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katsu28 · 1 month ago

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summer's golden haze - chapter four

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a confession, a second first date, and the start of something special. (4.8k)

a/n: happy birthday landooo!!! my gift to him is a girlfriend 🙂‍↕️

previous chapter | masterlist

A loud clang from the kitchen startles you from your sleep, blinking awake to a still dark room.

Your head throbs a little bit, but the headache isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. It’s easy to ignore, especially since your mind is occupied by the snoring boy sprawled out under you.

Lando’s fast asleep on his back, one arm slung over your torso loosely while the other hangs off the end of the sofa above his head, legs tangled with yours. You don’t remember cuddling up like this during the night, but you’re not complaining. He’s warm and comfy, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest soothing.

You almost don’t want to get up, but your curiosity about the noises coming from the kitchen wins out in the end. Very carefully, you wiggle out from under his arm, peeling yourself away from him as slow as you can so as to not wake him.

Once you’ve successfully extracted yourself, you can’t help but drop a kiss to Lando’s forehead before you go, pushing his curls away from his browline to do so. He lets out a little sigh, rolls onto his side, but remains deep in slumber as you pad out of the room.

The ruckus turns out to be Camille puttering around the kitchen making coffee—an essential hangover cure.

“Sorry, sorry, I was trying to be quiet. Did I wake you?” She hisses, cringing. You wave an absentminded hand, stifling a yawn as you plant yourself on a stool at the counter.

She slides a mug of coffee towards you and you gladly accept, leaning over the steam wafting from the piping hot drink. It’s taking all of your willpower not to gulp it all down in one go and burn your throat.

Camille lets you sip and sit as you attempt to wake yourself up a little more, but you can tell she’s dying to say something. You sigh. “Say what you wanna say.”

“Oh thank god. I hate you for making me wait more than five seconds, but whatever. Anyways, Lando stayed over last night?”

“Mhm, yeah. He did.” You bob your head noncommittally, staring hard at the dark liquid in your cup. Despite your laser focus, you can still feel Camille’s eyes boring into the top of your head, and when you finally do look up at her, she’s looking at you very pointedly. “What? We talked for a bit, and then we fell asleep.”

“And that’s all that happened?”

“Uh…” Your voice goes higher pitched than necessary, one eye squinting shut. You want to tell her everything, but you haven’t had the chance to speak with Lando yet. You’re not sure what “everything” entails yet.

Lando shuffles into the kitchen right at that moment, rubbing furiously at his eye with one hand while the other scratches at his stomach aimlessly. He extends his arms high over his head in a loud yawn and stretch combo, in doing so revealing a strip of tanned torso that has you nearly choking on your sip of coffee.

That earns you two confused, yet amused looks, for wildly different reasons.

“Hot.” You say lamely, in a very poor explanation. Lando’s expression turns slightly smug. “The coffee. Burned my tongue.”

“Morning, sunshine!” Camille chirps happily. Knowingly. She beams at Lando and it stops him in his tracks, blinking unsurely at her chipper form like he’s hallucinating instead of responding. “Cool, just stare at me like I’m an alien.”

“Sorry, I just—how are you not hungover right now? You could barely walk straight last night,” He asks incredulously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She hums, winking at him.

Lando pulls himself onto the stool next to yours with a groan, but doesn’t hesitate to give you the best smile he can muster in greeting. “Morning. How��d you sleep?”

“Good,” You say softly, wrapping your hands around the mug in front of you. “You?”

“Really good. Best sleep I’ve had in months, actually.”

“On a shitty couch with no back support? Interesting.”

Lando checks to see that Camille isn’t paying any attention before he responds. “Maybe it was the company.”

You feel your cheeks blaze hot under his intense gaze, but you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact with him. You still need to address what happened last night. It’s still something you haven’t quite wrapped your head around yet, and you feel the need to stall so you can gather your thoughts some more.

“Coffee’s fresh on, if you want some,” You blurt.

Lando takes your reaction in stride, as if he senses you need time. “Oh, that sounds amazing right now.”

Instead of going to pour himself his own cup, he eases yours out of your hands and takes a hefty sip from it in one fell swoop, before you can even tell him it’s just coffee. He doesn’t like plain black coffee. Then he shudders, face scrunching up in adorable disgust. “Blegh. Needs milk. Sugar, too.”

“That’s because it’s mine, and I happen to think it’s just fine the way it is, thank you very much.”

“You don’t wanna share?”

Your nose crinkles in the same way his had a few moments ago. “Not if you’re going to dump a fuckton of sugar in it.”

“Not a fuckton! Just a spoon or two. Maybe three.”

“Get your own, Norris.” You roll your eyes playfully, and Lando cocks his head in challenge, lifts your mug back to his lips for another long sip, this time obnoxiously loud. Paired with the adorable crooked troublemaker’s grin, you have to fight the need to kiss him again.

You want to, but you can’t. Not yet.

Samira and Maren trudge in a little while later, looking much worse for wear than you all. Neither of them even have it in her to reply to any of your good morning’s, only to make it over to pour themselves a generous mugs of coffee.

“See, that’s what I thought you lot would be like right now,” Lando says, waving a hand at your two zombies of friends. “That’s what normal people are like after hitting up four bars in a night, you psychopaths.”

“If my head wasn’t pounding right now, I’d punch you in your pretty boy face,” Samira grumbles, glaring at him through bleary eyes. “What’re you even doing here, anyways?”

“Who d’you think brought you all home last night?”

“Then why do I remember Max doing a horrible rendition of We Belong Together by Mariah Carey?” Maren groans, face screwing up in confusion.

In perfect timing, you hear the front door open, and then Max’s booming voice.

“Your savior has arrived!” He saunters into view with his hands behind his back, as if he’s hiding something behind him. The closer he gets, the more you can smell something mouthwatering wafting from whatever he’s just brought.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I guess,” Camille chuckles.

Max juts his lower lip out, smacking one hand over his heart. “Aw, you guys were talking about me? All good things, I hope.”

“Always, mate,” Lando assures him, but not without shooting you a cheeky wink as soon as his friend turns away.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Samira grits out, glaring at no one in particular. “You’re all being way too loud right now.”

“Guess that means you don’t want the food I brought?”

“...What is it?”

“Sugar and carbs.”

“Hand over the box right now and you’re forgiven.”

The four of them get into some other conversation quickly after that, giving Lando the privacy to lean over towards you, lips nearly ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think we can slip out and have that talk now?”

You cast a glance at your friends fighting over the pastries in the box. They won’t even notice you’re gone.

Lando’s mouth is on yours as soon as you’re out of sight and earshot, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You almost forget what you’re supposed to be doing, but catch the thought at the last second before it slips away.

“Mm, Lando, hold on—” You mumble, splaying a hand flat across his chest. He lets out a distracted sound of question, squeezing at your waist. “Less kissing, more talking,” You chide.

Lando pouts, but obliges, taking a step back to put just the smallest bit of space between you. “Fine, fine, I’m listening.”

“Look, I don’t—I’m not normally one to do things that scare me. And when you told me who you were, I immediately shut down because I thought no, that’s not me. I can’t do that, that’s too scary to be me. I wanted to play it safe.”

His heart beats strongly under your palm, if not a little quicker than usual with your fingers curled into the softness of his rumpled jumper.

You’re not looking at his face right now. With how vulnerable you’re being with him right now, you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to utter the words if you look him in the eye.

Instead, you’ve got your gaze trained on his hand on top of yours, the collection of bracelets on his wrist that you remind yourself to ask about another time.

“Getting to know you, realizing how much I like you, I think it also made me realize that life is too short to always play it safe. Some people are worth stepping out of my comfort zone for. What we are, what we could be—you’re worth stepping out of my comfort zone for,” You say softly, but firmly.

It’s nothing but the absolute truth. You’re putting yourself out there in a way you’ve never had the courage to do before. But Lando, he gives you courage. He makes you want to try.

“So this is me, doing something scary, asking if you’ll…take a chance on me?”

Only then do you muster up the courage to look him in the eye, and when you do, you’re met with the biggest, most smitten grin you’ve ever seen grace his face. Dimples on full display, eyes squinted with happiness, he’s smiling so hard it almost looks like it hurts.

“I’ll take every chance I’ve got on you,” He says earnestly, cupping your face in both hands. “And if I’ve got none left, I’d find some more, ‘cause you’re worth it a hundred times over.”

“Sorry it took me so long to figure my shit out,” You say sheepishly.

He gestures towards himself suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. “I knew you couldn’t resist all this for long.”

“You’re so dumb,” You scoff, shaking your head at his antics. Even so, your affection for him has never been clearer. You may say he's dumb (you know he isn’t), but he’s yours now. He’s yours now and you've never been more excited to see what’ll happen.

“Well, you like me, so…guess you’ve just got to deal with it.”

“Yeah? And what do you think I should do about that?”

“What do I think? You wanna know what I think? I think you should…” He trails off, pushing in closer, closer, closer, until his mouth hovers a millimeter from yours. Careful fingers tilt your chin up to guide you the rest of the way, meeting your lips gently.

You’d kiss Lando all day if you had the time, just because now you can, but there’s still the issue of the when and how you’re going to tell your friends. Reluctantly, you pull away. “We should get back before they notice we’re missing.”

“Probably, yeah.” You wait for him to move but he doesn’t. He just looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“What?” You reach up hastily in an attempt to smooth out your hair. “Do I look okay?”

“You look perfect.”

“Stop being so sweet. I mean, do I look like I’ve just been kissed within an inch of my life?”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

You press one more quick peck to his lips in lieu of a response, giving his hand another squeeze before turning on your heel to head back. Lando follows behind like a puppy, close but not too close.

All eyes are on you the second you step back into the room, four pairs flicking from Lando to you, back to him, then back to you. Granted, it probably would’ve been a smarter idea to return at separate times so as to not raise suspicion, but it’s too late for that now.

“...What?” You try for a lighter tone to throw them off, tilting your head to the side.

One second passes. Two, three, four seconds. You almost think you can pull this off. Then—

“You fuckers!” Maren huffs, seeming much more alert and awake now. “You couldn’t have waited another day to get your shit together?”

Definitely not the reaction you were envisioning in your head, if you’re being honest.

“‘Scuse me?” Lando asks, looking both bewildered and a little bit offended by the outburst. He aims a sideways glance at you for an explanation that you can’t provide.

All it does is confuse you, but for some reason, Samira begins to giggle uncontrollably. Even Max looks a mixture of happy and smug.

“I just lost thirty bucks to Max because of you two!”

“You bet on us? What the fuck, mate!” Lando exclaims incredulously.

Max lets out an offended noise from the back of his throat. “You expect me not to take my chances on easy money? Get real, mate. I can give you a cut of it if it gets your knickers out of a twist.”

“What they mean is, we’re glad you finally figured out you belong together,” Camille says earnestly, only a tad apologetic. Lando takes this moment to sling an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Right, well, in other news, I actually came over here with a purpose other than providing joy to everyone,” Max interrupts the tender moment, clapping once. “Lando, we’ve got Keegan’s thing today, so we gotta, y’know—gotta get going, yeah?”

Lando inhales sharply, shoulders slumping. “Right. Fuck, I forgot about that.”

“Yeah, I know you did. Too busy wooing your lady and all,” Max teases, aiming a wink in your direction that has you throwing up a playful middle finger at him. Lando turns to face you, frowning.

“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta—I wish I could stay, I really do. I totally spaced on this thing one of our mates has going on today, we promised we’d go—”

“It’s okay, Lando,” You say, endeared by his scrabbling for an explanation. He didn’t really need one to begin with, but it’s cute that he feels the need to explain himself. “Go do your thing. I’ll see you when you’ve got time.”

“You’re the best. How did I get so lucky?” He sighs, dramatically dreamy. Humor twinkles in his eyes.

“Bye,” You chuckle, moving to peel yourself away from him. You want to get in on one of the pastries Max had brought before they’re gone.

“Wait, wait.” Lando slips his fingers through yours, tugging lightly to stop you before you can get even a few steps away. “Before I go. Do you have any dinner plans tonight?”

Your brows pinch in the middle. “No. Why?”

“I want a do over of our first date. One that doesn’t end in…y’know.” You hum in thought, like you’re even contemplating turning him down, and he lets out a little frustrated whine that makes you giggle again. “Come on, let me take you out. Wanna wine and dine you properly, baby.”

The term of endearment rolls off his tongue so easily, so casually, like he’s called you it all along. It makes you concede.

“Where are we going?”

“That’s for me to figure out before tonight,” He hums. You raise a semi-skeptical brow. “I’ve got ideas, I swear! Just wear something pretty and be ready by seven. I’ll be by to pick you up then.”

“Okay.” You nod. Lando perks up, beaming bright. He kisses you again, briefly but enthusiastically, before turning to follow Max towards the front door. “See you tonight. And you better not be late!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!”

The rumble of a car driving away echoes out soon after the two boys disappear from sight.

You sigh lightly, returning your attention back to the enticing box of pastries on the counter. You pray the one that had been calling your name in the little peek you'd gotten when Max first handed them over is still there.

Your hand gets smacked as you eagerly reach for the box, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to make you curse. You look up to see all three girls waiting expectantly for you to fess up and tell them how you’d gone from awkwardly avoiding Lando to what they'd just witnessed.

“Can I at least eat first?” They shake their heads firmly, and you whine. “What? Come on, I’m starving!”

“Explain, then eat.”

Your shoulders creep up towards your ears in a shrug. Seeing as it was kind of just a gut feeling more than anything, it’s a little hard to articulate with words. You try your best at it anyways.

“I…realized I was making a mistake by walking away because I was scared. You guys know I’ve never been great with change, but I dunno, maybe change is okay sometimes.”

“Oh my god, our girl is growing up.”

-------

The closer it gets to seven, you find your nerves growing with every tick, tick, tick of the clock. You’re not even sure why. It’s just dinner, and it’s just Lando. You’re comfortable with Lando. You like Lando.

So why does it feel like you’re about to do something so much bigger than that?

Dinner might as well mean canon event in your mind. Things with Lando are literally brand new, not even a full day old yet, but it feels like something monumental. Your first date ended in shambles (thanks to your own doing), so the urge to make sure this one goes perfect is high.

The pressure is on, and you don’t do too well under pressure. That doesn’t even include the fact that your feelings for him are stronger than anything you’ve felt for anyone before.

The moment Lando pulls up in front and you lay eyes on him climbing out of the car though, all your worries start to melt away. He looks so happy to see you again, even though you haven’t even been apart for a full day. It makes you remember that there’s no reason to get all worked up about anything with him.

“Hey, you,” He says, leaning in to wrap an arm around your waist as soon as he’s close enough. “Missed your face today.”

“Just my face?” You tease.

Lando’s head lists to one side, nose scrunching adorably. “Maybe other parts of you too.” Your eyebrows lift towards your hairline amusedly at his words and he groans, nudging you gently in the ribs with a large hand. “Oh, get your head out of the gutter! I didn’t mean it like that.”

You giggle, dotting a kiss to his pouting lips. “So what’d you come up with for our second first date?”

“Why don’t you get in the car and see?” He offers out his arm and you take it gladly, accepting his help into the car too. You think he’s about to start the car when he slides into the driver’s seat, but he catches you by surprise by sneaking in another kiss instead. “You look amazing.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” You shoot back. He’s gone for simple but put together with a classic white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and some dark trousers, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t pull them off fantastically.

“All for you, baby.” He grins, winking boyishly. “I got us a reservation at the nicest restaurant in town. Well, nicest according to the loads of travel blogs me and Max looked at. Fancy seeing if Greek summer gal dot com knows what she’s talking about?”

“With a name like that, how ever could she be wrong?” You play along, lacing your fingers through his. He dots a kiss to your temple.

Lando chats about his day on the way into town, all the way until his phone rings. His brow furrows, and for a split second you think it might be work calling again. If it is, you have half a mind to answer it yourself and chew them out.

“Sorry, d’you mind seeing who it is?” Lando lifts himself off the seat, shoving a hand into his pocket to squeeze his buzzing phone out and passing it to you. A wildly unflattering photo of Max flashes across the screen.

“It’s Max. Want me to answer?” You offer, giggling at the silly sight. He nods gratefully, keeping his eyes on the road. You tap the accept call button, putting the other boy on speaker.

“What’s up, mate?” Lando says, hitting you with a ‘get a load of this guy’ sort of look. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Yeah I know, that’s why I’m calling. You can’t go to that restaurant.”

Lando’s expression morphs into one of confusion, one you’re sure that you’re mirroring as you squint back at him. “Uh…sure we can. I made a reservation, everything’s set already.”

“I know, asshole!” Max huffs. “Someone must’ve leaked your name on the reservation to the press or something, ‘cause I just drove by a few minutes ago and it’s crawling with people. Like, swamped with paparazzi and fans.”

Lando’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, face screwing up into something between anger and despair. “Shit. That’s not good.”

“Just thought I’d let you know before you get there,” Max says. He sounds guilty, but he has no reason to be. You’re glad he’d been able to get a hold of Lando beforehand. “You can still go out, just…maybe find somewhere else to go, I dunno.”

“Thank you, Max,” You chime in.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, mate. Cheers.”

Lando flicks on his blinker to pull off to the side of the road the first chance he gets after Max hangs up, and when he does turn the car off, he immediately goes to bang his head against the steering wheel. “This is so bad,” He groans.

You smooth a hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. “It’s fine, Lando. We can just go somewhere else.”

“I wanted this so badly to go perfect, and again, I’m the reason why it’s all going to shit.”

“It’s not going to shit. And you wouldn’t be the reason for it, even if it was,” You insist firmly. He straightens up in his seat, turning to face you with doubt crinkling his face that you immediately want to rid him of. Your hand finds his, prying his fingers off the steering wheel to intertwine. “I mean it. I don’t care that we’re not going to some fancy restaurant. All I care about is that we’re together.”

Lando squeezes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a grateful kiss to your knuckles. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“I know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. It makes him chuckle, brings back the twinkle in his eye.

After driving for a bit, you eventually find yourselves at a little gyro spot to grab some food. You push open the door to get out once Lando has put the car to a stop, but at the very last moment, you turn back to face him.

“You should probably stay here,” You say, gnawing on your lip.

Lando pouts, but doesn’t make a move to exit the car. He must know it’s for the best. Even so, he digs out his wallet, pressing a few bills into your hand. You click your tongue, giving your head a shake. “Don’t look at me like that. I asked you to dinner, I pay for it.”

“Alright, fine.”

“Mint. Get me something good?”

“‘Course I will. Salmon, right?” You quip, smiling innocently. His hatred for fish is something you’ll never tire of poking fun at him for.

“Don’t even joke about that, you monster!” Lando exclaims, slapping a dramatic hand over his chest. You laugh out loud. “And don’t you think about getting fish either, or I’ll never kiss you again.”

“Well, someone’s dramatic!”

“I’m serious!”

You leave him behind at that, giggling to yourself about his theatrics.

The lady working the counter in the little mom and pop gyro shop is very kind, compliments your outfit and calls you a beautiful young woman while you wait on your food—even gives you an order of veggie kroketes, on the house.

She kind of reminds you of your own mother, whom you make a mental note to call when you have the time. You’ve been having such a good time here, you’ve nearly forgotten the rest of your world outside of it.

You wind up finding someplace not far away to enjoy your food once you’ve gotten it. A hidden spot, a little off the road—not a place anyone would come across unless they were looking hard enough. Perfect for two people who’d rather not attract attention.

Lando procures a beach towel from the boot of the car for the two of you to sit on as you eat.

“I’m sorry about the restaurant again. I usually don’t use my actual name when I do things like that, but they were just about booked up and I really wanted us to go, so I did,” He sighs, tracing a finger along the patterned cotton. “I had no idea it’d get leaked, I swear. Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Does that usually work? Using your name to get things.”

Lando’s cheeks flush pink and he smiles guiltily, ducking his head momentarily before nodding. “Usually, yeah. I don’t do it often though. Almost never, really. Only for special things, and this…well, I wanted it to be just that. Special.”

“It is special,” You say, letting your knee bump his.

He scoffs lightly like he doesn’t think the same, lifting his half eaten wrap in the air. “We’re sat on the side of the road eating takeaway.”

Even a date like this truly is something special to you. Spending time with the person you’ve become so close with in such a short amount of time—the one who makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, who makes you feel like you can truly be yourself—it’s something you were starting to think you’d never have. Lando’s come along and changed all that.

“Do you think you have to impress me?” Lando doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth snap shut, but you can see it in his eyes that yes, he feels the need to impress you. You’re not sure why, but you suspect it has less to do with you and more to do with his own feelings. “Because you don’t. I couldn’t care less about your name, your money, or anything else that comes with it. I like you for you, not for what your status can get us.”

Lando stares back at you long and hard, as if he’s searching you for any ounce of indication that you’re not telling him the truth. You’re certain he’ll find nothing, because even though you’re still getting to know each other—flaws, fears, and all—you’ll never lie to him.

“I’m sorry,” He says eventually. “I dunno why I thought—” He cuts himself off with a shake of the head. “Y’know what, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be better.”

“You don’t need to be better,” You hum, resting your head against his shoulder. “You just need to be you.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re really good at this pep talk thing?”

“Never had to give anyone this many pep talks before.”

Lando pokes his fingers into the ticklish spot between your ribs in response. You reach to bat away his hand, but he moves quicker, leaning in to drag his nose against your cheek.

“Is now a bad time to tell you I did actually get the fish?”

Lando rears his head back faster than you could’ve imagined, looking so absolutely horrified at your insinuation it has you breaking composure almost instantly. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was two seconds away from gagging out loud. “No you did not.”

“I didn’t, but wouldn't it have been funny if I did?”

“That is so not cool,” He grumbles, lips pulling into a pout. You have the urge to kiss it away and you fight it for a moment, but then you remember you can kiss him whenever you want, so you do. It seems to make him forget about his disgust, because he kisses you back immediately.

You’re one who’s dazed when you finally resurface for air, but you manage to smile sweetly. “Better now?”

“Getting there. Maybe a little longer would help.”

“Just a little longer?”

“A lot longer works too.”

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris fic #lando norris series #ln4 x you

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nessa007 · 1 year ago

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Halle Bailey's screen test looks for The Little Mermaid Camille Friend (Ariel's hair designer): A wig going over [Halle's hair] just never looked right. It was more important keeping the look of [Halle] being an African American Ariel and not trying to change her. Halle Bailey: I was just really pleased with Rob Marshall and John DeLuca's decision to keep my natural hair but also add some loose tresses to it so [it looks] more mermaid-y as well. I was really pleased that I got to keep that piece of myself.

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gingiesworld · 1 year ago

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Gingie's Kinktoberfest

Hey awesome people, this is my first ever Kinktober event and I hope you all will enjoy what I have in store with a range of characters from Lizzie with appearances of Nat and Maria too. The list and dates they will be released are as below.

1st: MILF Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: It has been a while since Wanda has had an orgasm so she asks her best friend for a helping had.

3rd: Natasha Romanoff x Porn Star Avenger (Amab! R) Summary: Reader is a porn star and Natasha is a secret fan, especially when she learns that the masked crusader on the hub is indeed her fellow Avenger

5th: Therese Raquin x Fem Reader Summary: Therese is unhappily married to Camille and she has always had feelings for reader who was also part owner of the pub. So one night when Therese decides to let loose and have some fun, she finally takes what she wants.

7th: Gerri Fields x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Gerri Fields still goes to college a virgin where she meets an old school friend she used to admire before graduation. The two soon start to date and Gerri asks them to be her first.

9th: Maria Hill x Lower Level Agent Reader(Amab! R) Summary: Maria is on a mission with reader who makes one tiny mistake and she is fast enough to berate them on the way back to headquarters. But Reader stands up for themselves which soon turns into something more ;)

11th: Step sister Wanda x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda visits her step sibling in the city and they offer to take her to a club. The two soon get drunk and Wanda finds herself dancing seductively which doesn't help with the tension that was between them before ;)

13th: Jane Banner x Mob Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Jane Banner was always the one who wore the trousers but that was until she met Y/N. The mob boss who she was trying to take down. Soon finding herself tied to their bed as they used her for their pleasure.

15th: Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Readers favourite place to be is between the Infamous Black Widow's legs. Pleasing her until she squirts.

17th: Step mom Wanda x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda overheard Y/N screaming her name only to walk in on them jerking themselves off to the sinful thoughts of their step mom.

21st: Innocent Wanda x Step Parent GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda comes home after being dumped by her boyfriend since high school in search of comfort. Soon receiving more than she never knew she needed from Reader

23rd: Maria Hill x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: At one of Tony's parties, exes bump into each other and soon fall into old habits.

25th: Assistant Wanda x CEO Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Reader requests a little bit more off of their assistant and she is more than ready to comply as they bend her over the desk.

27th: Bratty Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Natasha decides to be blunt and abrupt with reader who doesn't care for it, especially when she is cocky and disrepectful in front of their friends.

29th: Wanda Maximoff x Stripper Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda hires Reader claiming it is for a Bachelorette party which turns out to be sex party for all of her friends.

31st: WandaNat x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Both Wanda and Nat are persuing reader thinking they are clueless but they are loving the attention a little too much.

18+ MINORS DNI

HAPPY KINKTOBER BUDDIES!!!

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #gerri fields fanfiction #jane banner x gn! reader #maria hill x reader

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theorahsart · 2 months ago

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Incorruptible pt 45

I like to think that when they got along, Brissot and Camille sang Revolution Songs together (they're not drunk, they're just...Brissot and Camille together in a room).

Also, the song is VERY loosely translated from this song, made in 1791. Robespierre was featured in songs as far back as that! Because the song seems to pursue rhyming over other elements, I also chose rhyming over a more direct translation.

Another also: thank you @anotherhumaninthisworld for several posts and links, which helped me figure out Brissot more easily, alongside discovering that he's like *ridiculously* short lol

#incorruptiblecomic #I figured brissot out fairly quickly #it became evident early on in reading that he had unbreakable confidence #and just went head first into things because he seemed to believe every time it would be fine lmao #I guess that sums up his war decisions? lol #frev #french revolution #brissot #camille desmoulins #maximilien robespierre #robespierre #petion #jerome petion #frev comic #frev art #history comic #french history #historical drama #historical fiction

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hookhausenschips · 4 months ago

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Butterflies {OP81}

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Summary: Amidst past heartbreak and fear of vulnerability, Y/N gradually allows herself to fall for Oscar, whose patience and sincerity offer a promising chance at love, revealing that the journey of trust and commitment is worth the risk.

Warnings: themes of emotional vulnerability, past trauma, fear of intimacy, struggles/uncertainties of opening up to someone new, and the complexities of trust in relationships.

Join my taglist by clicking here or shoot me a message!

Loosely based on this song

you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

I don't wanna fall so fast

But I'm open

I’m 24, young, and full of potential, yet I've already learned some tough lessons in love. Being a black woman, navigating the complexities of relationships hasn't always been easy. I’ve had my heart broken more times than I care to admit, and each time, it left a scar that hasn’t quite healed. The people I trusted with my deepest emotions didn’t treat them with the care they deserved, and now, it’s hard not to feel jaded.

There was Darren, who made me believe in forever but disappeared when things got tough. Then there was Camille, who said all the right things but never really meant them. Each of them left me with a little less faith in love, and a little more doubt in myself. I keep asking myself, "Why do I always end up hurt?" and "Is there something wrong with me?"

Lately, I’ve been trying to rebuild—focus on myself, get my confidence back. But deep down, there’s a yearning that I can’t quite shake, a desire to find that connection again. To love and be loved, but this time, without the heartbreak. Yet, every time I think about letting someone new in, my stomach twists with anxiety.

They always say that good things never last

And I know 'cause I've been broken

One evening, while sitting on my bed, I scrolled through old messages from past relationships, the ones that used to make me smile. Now, they just remind me of broken promises. I whispered to myself, "I can’t do this again. I can’t let myself fall for someone just to end up picking up the pieces later."

But there’s a part of me—a small, stubborn part—that still believes love is worth the risk. And that part scares me the most because what if I’m wrong? What if I let someone in again and end up more broken than before?

My friends say, "You deserve someone who treats you right, someone who values you." I know they’re right, but how do I open up to that possibility when my past keeps haunting me? How do I let go of the fear that history will repeat itself?

And that’s where I was—stuck between wanting to love and fearing the pain that might come with it—when Oscar came into my life.

I'm tryin' to protect my heart

But you're making it so hard

It was a random Tuesday, and I had no idea that day would change anything. I wasn’t looking for love, not even close. My focus was on work, my friends, and trying to enjoy life on my own terms. But then, there he was—Oscar Piastri.

I remember the first time I saw him. It was at a small coffee shop around the corner from my apartment. I had just picked up my usual order, a caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso, and was about to leave when I accidentally bumped into someone.

“Whoa, sorry about that,” I said, looking up to see who I’d almost drenched in coffee.

He smiled, a warm, easy smile that immediately put me at ease. “No worries, I could use a little caffeine splash to wake me up.”

I laughed, a bit nervously, and noticed how his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m glad I could help, I guess?”

He chuckled and extended his hand. “I’m Oscar, by the way. I think I’ve seen you around here before.”

I hesitated for a split second before shaking his hand. “Y/N. And yeah, this is my go-to spot. Best coffee in town.”

“Agreed. Though I have to say, you’ve got a pretty intense order there. Tough day?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just the usual grind. You?”

“Same here. But this,” he held up his cup, “is the highlight of my day so far.”

We both laughed, and for a moment, everything felt easy. There was something about him that intrigued me, something different from what I was used to. He wasn’t trying too hard, wasn’t putting on a show. He was just… Oscar.

And I guess it's safe to say

You take my pain away

Over the next few days, I kept running into him—at the coffee shop, at the grocery store, even at the park where I liked to jog. It was like the universe was nudging me toward him, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to listen.

One afternoon, after another “coincidental” meeting at the coffee shop, he asked me to sit with him. I almost said no, wanting to stick to my usual routine, but something in his eyes made me pause.

“Just for a few minutes,” he said, his voice soft and inviting. “I promise I won’t keep you long.”

I found myself nodding. “Okay, a few minutes.”

As we sat down, the conversation flowed effortlessly. We talked about everything and nothing—our favorite movies, the best places to eat in the city, and even the little quirks we had. I learned that Oscar was a bit of a perfectionist, always striving to be the best at whatever he did, but he had a laid-back side that balanced it out. He loved racing, which didn’t surprise me, but what caught me off guard was how he spoke about it—with passion, but also with a humility that was refreshing.

At one point, I mentioned my love for books, and his eyes lit up. “You’re a reader? That’s awesome. What’s your favorite genre?”

“Anything that makes me feel something,” I replied. “I love stories that are real, that don’t shy away from the messy parts of life.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. I think the best stories are the ones that make you feel like you’re not alone, like someone out there gets what you’re going through.”

There was a sincerity in his words that made me want to know more about him, even though I was still hesitant. I couldn’t deny that I was drawn to him, that there was something about Oscar that made me feel… safe. But at the same time, a voice in the back of my mind reminded me of the walls I’d built, the ones that had protected me from getting hurt again.

As the conversation wound down, Oscar looked at me with a smile that was both gentle and knowing. “I’m really glad we got to talk, Y/N. Maybe we could do this again sometime? No pressure, just… whenever you feel like it.”

I hesitated, the familiar apprehension bubbling up. But then I found myself nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great,” he said, his smile widening. “I’ll see you around then.”

As I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like maybe—just maybe—this was something worth exploring. But I was still cautious, still unsure if I could let myself fall for someone again. Only time would tell if Oscar was different, if he was someone I could trust with my heart.

And I just wanna hold you all night long

Whenever I'm around you, nothing's wrong I'm hoping that you'll always be around

The days turned into weeks, and before I knew it, Oscar and I had developed a comfortable routine. We’d meet up for coffee or grab dinner at one of the spots we’d discovered together. There was a natural rhythm to our conversations, a back-and-forth that felt easy, almost effortless. But with that ease came something I hadn’t expected—the butterflies.

At first, it was just a slight flutter whenever I saw his name pop up on my phone. A quick text from him, like, “Hey, thinking about trying that new sushi place tonight. You in?” would make my heart skip a beat. I’d find myself smiling at the screen, trying to keep cool as I typed back, “Sounds good. What time?”

But it wasn’t just the texts. It was the way he looked at me when we were talking, like I was the only person in the room. One night, we were sitting in the park, watching the sunset after a long day. Oscar had brought a blanket, and we were sprawled out on the grass, just talking about everything and nothing.

You got me on a high, I don't wanna come down And I love it, I love it (these butterflies)

Yeah I love it, I love it (I'm on a high)

Yeah, I love it, I love it And I just wanna love on you (ooh)

“Do you ever just look at the sky and think about how small we are?” he asked, his voice soft and contemplative.

I turned to him, surprised by the question. “Sometimes. It’s kind of overwhelming, though, isn’t it? Thinking about how big the universe is and how tiny our problems are in comparison.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the sky. “But I think it’s kind of comforting, too. Like, no matter what happens, the world keeps turning, the sun keeps setting, and there’s always a new day.”

I looked at him then, really looked at him, and felt that familiar flutter in my chest. It wasn’t just the words he said; it was the way he said them, with a quiet assurance that made me feel like everything would be okay.

Ever since you crossed my path

Everything is different

You always know just how to make me laugh

You got me all up in my feelings

“You’re a bit of a philosopher, aren’t you?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He laughed, a low, warm sound that made my heart flip. “Maybe a little. But seriously, Y/N, it’s moments like this that make me appreciate the simple things. Like just being here with you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. His words were simple, but they meant so much more than that. I could feel the butterflies intensifying, that mix of excitement and nervousness churning in my stomach.

“Yeah,” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I get that.”

And then there were the little things he did that made me feel seen, really seen. Like the time we were at a bookstore, and I was browsing through the fiction section. I mentioned offhandedly that I loved a particular author but hadn’t read their latest book yet. A few days later, Oscar showed up with a wrapped package.

And as much as I love the feeling I hate it, it gets me frustrated

Wanna say just how I feel

“What’s this?” I asked, curious.

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Just open it.”

I tore off the wrapping paper to find the book I’d mentioned. My eyes widened in surprise, and I looked up at him, speechless.

“You said you hadn’t read it yet,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I figured you might like it.”

My heart swelled with a mix of emotions—gratitude, joy, and something deeper that I wasn’t ready to name yet. “Oscar, this is… thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice softening. “But I wanted to.”

It was in moments like these that I started to feel those butterflies taking over. He made me laugh like no one else could, like the time we tried to cook dinner together and ended up burning half the food. We were both hopeless in the kitchen, but instead of getting frustrated, Oscar just laughed, his laughter infectious.

“Well, I guess we know what we’re not good at,” he said, shaking his head as he surveyed the mess we’d made.

“Yeah,” I laughed, wiping away a tear. “But at least we didn’t burn the whole place down.”

He grinned and bumped his shoulder against mine. “Small victories, right?”

But it wasn’t just the laughter. It was the way he was there for me, supporting me in ways I hadn’t expected. Like the time I was having a rough day at work, feeling overwhelmed and stressed. I hadn’t told him much, just that I was having a hard time. Later that evening, he showed up at my door with a tub of my favorite ice cream and a stack of movies.

“I figured you could use a break,” he said with that easy smile of his. “And maybe some company?”

I couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the butterflies fluttering stronger than ever. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

But don't know how you would take it

Why do you do what you do to me?

He chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Just trying to be a good friend.”

But the way he looked at me when he said it, I knew there was more to it than that. And that was when the nervous excitement hit me hardest. I was falling for him—harder and faster than I’d expected—and it terrified me.

As the days with Oscar grew longer, so did the feelings I was trying to keep in check. Those butterflies that started as a gentle flutter had turned into a storm inside me, making it harder to ignore what was happening. I was falling for him, and it scared me to death.

One evening, after another perfect day with Oscar, I sat alone in my apartment, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I could see it in my own eyes—how happy I was, how alive I felt. But underneath that happiness was a growing fear, a fear I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” I whispered to my reflection, frustration lacing my voice. “Why are you letting yourself feel this way again?”

I thought about the last time I’d let myself fall, how it had ended in tears and broken promises. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t go through that again, that I’d protect my heart at all costs. But here I was, teetering on the edge of another fall, and I couldn’t decide whether to jump or pull back.

When I was with Oscar, everything felt right. He made me laugh, he made me feel seen, and he made me believe—if only for a moment—that maybe this time could be different. But when I was alone, the doubts would creep in. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if I was just setting myself up for another heartbreak?

I promised myself I wouldn't fall

But every time I see you, I just wanna risk it all

One night, we were sitting on his couch, a movie playing in the background. I was barely paying attention to the screen, too caught up in my own thoughts. Oscar must have noticed because he nudged me gently.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. I wasn’t tired—I was scared. Scared of letting him in, scared of what it would mean if I did. I wanted to tell him, to lay it all out there, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just sat there, feeling the frustration build inside me.

Oscar turned to face me, his brow furrowed in that adorable way he did when he was trying to figure something out. “Are you sure? You seem… I don’t know, a little distant tonight.”

I bit my lip, the battle raging inside me. Part of me wanted to tell him everything, to spill out all the fears and doubts that were eating me up inside. But another part of me, the part that had been hurt before, told me to keep quiet, to protect myself.

“It’s nothing,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

He didn’t push, but I could see the concern in his eyes, and that only made me feel worse. Here was this amazing guy who was nothing but kind and patient with me, and I couldn’t even bring myself to be honest with him. The frustration gnawed at me, making my heart ache.

Later that night, after Oscar had walked me home, I sat on my bed, my mind racing. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t I just tell him how I felt? I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest, trying to quiet the turmoil inside me.

I closed my eyes, remembering a conversation I’d had with my best friend not too long ago. She had told me, “You have to take risks in love, Y/N. You can’t protect yourself from everything, or you’ll never really experience it.”

Her words echoed in my mind, and I knew she was right. But knowing and doing were two very different things. I wanted to take the risk, I wanted to let myself fall for Oscar, but every time I got close, the fear would pull me back.

The next time we hung out, the tension was still there, lurking beneath the surface. We were at a small, cozy restaurant, sharing a plate of fries and talking about nothing in particular. Oscar was his usual charming self, making me laugh with some ridiculous story about his latest racing practice. But even as I laughed, the frustration was bubbling up inside me.

“You know,” he said, dipping a fry in ketchup, “I’ve been thinking about going on a road trip. Just get in the car and drive, no destination in mind. What do you think?”

I smiled, trying to focus on the conversation. “That sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to do something like that.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Maybe you could come with me. We could just take off, leave everything behind for a while. What do you say?”

My heart leaped at the idea, but then the doubts crashed in like a tidal wave. What if I said yes? What if we spent all that time together, and I ended up falling even harder, only for him to not feel the same way? The thought terrified me, and I felt the words catch in my throat.

“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady. “I mean, it sounds great, but…”

“But?” he prompted gently, leaning in closer.

I looked down at my hands, fiddling with the napkin on my lap. “It’s just… I don’t want to mess things up, you know? What if…”

He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine, his touch warm and reassuring. “Hey, whatever it is, you can talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words should have comforted me, but instead, they made the frustration even worse. How could I explain that the thing I was most afraid of was exactly that—that he wouldn’t go anywhere, that he’d stay, and I’d end up falling too deep?

And baby, yeah, I know it ain't right

But the chemistry we have is so hard to fight

I took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to speak. “Oscar, I… I like spending time with you. A lot. But sometimes, I get scared, you know? I’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

His expression softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. “I get it. I really do. But I’m not those other people, Y/N. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I know,” I whispered, my voice barely holding steady. “But it’s still hard. I want to let go, to just… be with you, but I’m afraid of what might happen if I do.”

Oscar looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he nodded, his grip on my hand tightening just a little. “It’s okay to be scared. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We can take this as slow as you need to. I’m not in a rush.”

His words were exactly what I needed to hear, but even as he spoke them, I could feel the frustration gnawing at me. I wanted to believe him, I wanted to trust that things could be different this time, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that wouldn’t quite go away.

As we walked out of the restaurant that night, his arm around my shoulders, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—gratitude for his understanding, frustration with myself for holding back, and a deep, aching longing for the security I so desperately wanted. I knew I had to make a choice soon, to either let go and take the leap, or pull back and protect my heart. But the decision wasn’t easy, and the battle between vulnerability and protection raged on inside me, unresolved.

The tension had been building for weeks, like a tightly wound spring ready to snap. Every time Oscar and I spent time together, I could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. I knew I had to say something, to finally let him know how I felt, but fear had kept me silent. That all changed one evening when the moment of truth arrived, unplanned and unexpected.

And I just wanna hold you all night long

Whenever I'm around you, nothing's wrong I'm hoping that you'll always be around

It was a Friday night, and Oscar had invited me to watch one of his races on TV. We’d done this a few times before, but this time felt different. Maybe it was the way he seemed extra excited, or maybe it was just the way my heart pounded every time I looked at him. Either way, I knew something was going to happen that night.

We were sitting on his couch, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room. The race was in full swing, but I was only half-watching, too caught up in my own thoughts. Oscar, on the other hand, was fully engrossed, his eyes glued to the screen, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the cars speed around the track.

“You’re really into this, huh?” I teased, trying to lighten my own mood.

He grinned, not taking his eyes off the screen. “You have no idea. There’s just something about the adrenaline, the speed… it’s like nothing else.”

I smiled, but the butterflies were back, and they weren’t the good kind this time. I felt a knot in my stomach, a sense of urgency that I couldn’t ignore any longer. I had to say something—tonight.

You got me on a high, I don't wanna come down And I love it, I love it (these butterflies)

Said I love it, I love it (I'm on a high)

Love (And I just wanna love on)

And I just wanna love on you

As the race neared its end, Oscar finally turned to me, his expression full of excitement. “That was incredible, wasn’t it? I swear, every time I watch, it just gets better.”

“Yeah, it was great,” I replied, but my voice was distant, my mind elsewhere.

He noticed immediately, his smile fading a little. “Hey, what’s up? You seem… off. Did something happen?”

I hesitated, my heart racing faster than any of the cars we’d just watched. This was it, the moment I’d been dreading and anticipating all at once. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the words caught in my throat.

“Y/N, talk to me,” Oscar urged, his voice gentle but firm. He reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

I looked down at our intertwined hands, the sight of them together giving me a strange mix of comfort and anxiety. I knew I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. I had to let him in, or I’d lose my chance.

“Oscar, I… I need to tell you something,” I began, my voice trembling slightly.

Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya (uh, uh) Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya (uh, uh)

Ay, ay (uh, uh)

He squeezed my hand, his eyes locked onto mine. “I’m listening.”

I took another deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’ve been holding back… a lot. And it’s not because I don’t enjoy spending time with you—I do. More than I can even explain. But the truth is, I’m scared. I’m scared of what might happen if I let myself really fall for you.”

Oscar’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything, just letting me speak.

“I’ve been hurt before, Oscar,” I continued, my voice thick with emotion. “And every time I’ve let myself fall, it’s ended badly. I don’t want to go through that again. But at the same time, I can’t deny what I’m feeling. Being with you makes me happy, really happy, but it also terrifies me. I don’t want to get hurt again, and I don’t want to hurt you either.”

And I just wanna know you would catch me if I fall

If you tell me yeah, boy I might just risk it all If you tell me no, it's okay, then I will leave (ooh)

I hope you feel the same, you're the only one I see

I see, I see

The room was silent except for the hum of the TV, and for a moment, I was afraid I’d said too much, that I’d scared him away. But then Oscar reached out, gently lifting my chin so I was looking directly into his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring, “I can’t promise that nothing will ever go wrong. I can’t promise that I’ll never make a mistake. But what I can promise is that I’ll always be honest with you, and I’ll always do my best to protect your heart.”

My breath hitched at his words, the sincerity in his eyes breaking through some of the walls I’d put up. “I’m not asking for perfection, Oscar. I just… I just need to know that if I take this leap, you’ll be there to catch me.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing gently over the back of my hand. “I will be. And I want you to know something, too—I’m scared, too. Scared of messing this up, scared of not being what you need. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, right? Because what we have… it feels real, Y/N. And I think it’s worth the risk.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them back, a mix of relief and hope swelling in my chest. “It does feel real,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “And I want to try, Oscar. I really do. I’m just… I’m afraid of falling too hard, too fast.”

He smiled then, a soft, understanding smile that made my heart ache in the best way possible. “Then we’ll take it slow. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time. You don’t have to do this alone.”

I nodded, finally allowing myself to lean into the feelings I’d been holding back. “Okay,” I said, my voice steadier now. “Let’s try.”

Oscar pulled me into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around me in a way that made me feel safe, like maybe—just maybe—I’d found something worth holding onto. As I rested my head against his chest, I could hear the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of peace.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice muffled against his shirt.

“For what?” he asked, his hand gently rubbing my back.

“For being patient with me. For understanding.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I’m just glad you trusted me enough to tell me how you’re feeling. We’re in this together now, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered back, my eyes closing as I allowed myself to relax in his arms.

The fear was still there, lingering at the edges of my mind, but it didn’t feel as overwhelming now. For the first time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could let go of the past and embrace whatever the future held with Oscar by my side. And as we sat there together, the tension that had been building for so long finally began to melt away, replaced by a sense of hope and possibility.

The night after our conversation, I couldn't stop replaying everything in my head. I had bared my heart to Oscar, and instead of retreating, he’d held on, promising to take things slow and be there for me. It was a step forward, but the fear still lingered, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew that what happened next would either solidify my trust in him or shatter everything we’d been building.

Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya

A few days later, Oscar invited me over for dinner. He had planned to cook—something simple, he’d promised, since we both knew his culinary skills weren’t exactly top-notch. But it wasn’t the dinner that had me on edge; it was the feeling that this night was going to be a turning point for us.

When I arrived at his apartment, I was greeted by the smell of something delicious wafting through the air. Oscar met me at the door, a slightly frazzled but excited look on his face.

“I hope you’re ready for the best—or at least, the least disastrous—pasta you’ve ever had,” he joked, stepping aside to let me in.

I smiled, feeling a little lighter. “As long as it’s edible, I’m happy.”

We sat down to dinner, and to my surprise, the pasta was actually really good. We laughed and talked like we always did, but there was a new layer to our conversation now—an openness that hadn’t been there before. Every time our eyes met, I felt a warmth spread through me, a connection that was deepening with every word we exchanged.

After dinner, we moved to the couch, the remnants of our meal forgotten on the kitchen counter. Oscar put on some music, something soft and soothing, and we settled in, his arm draped around my shoulders. For a while, we just sat there in comfortable silence, the music filling the space between us.

“Y/N,” he said after a while, his voice low and serious, “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night. About being scared and wanting to take things slow.”

I tensed slightly, my heart rate picking up. “Yeah?”

He nodded, his thumb gently rubbing circles on my shoulder. “I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I said—I’m here, and I’m in this with you. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

His words washed over me like a balm, soothing the anxiety that had been gnawing at me for so long. But there was still a part of me that needed more, that needed to see if he was really willing to stand by me, even when things got tough.

“Oscar,” I began hesitantly, “I appreciate that. I really do. But… what if things get hard? What if I freak out or push you away? I’m not always good at this, at letting people in.”

He turned slightly to face me, his eyes serious and full of warmth. “Then I’ll be here, waiting. I’m not going to push you to move faster than you’re ready for, but I won’t let you push me away, either. We’ve got something good here, Y/N, and I’m not about to give up on it.”

My chest tightened, emotion swelling up in me. It was everything I wanted to hear, but there was still that small, lingering doubt, the voice in my head whispering that it was too good to be true.

“What if… what if one day you wake up and realize you don’t want to do this anymore? That you don’t want to deal with my issues?”

He shook his head, his expression unwavering. “That’s not going to happen. I’m here because I want to be, because I care about you. We’re both going to have our moments—times when we’re scared or uncertain—but that’s part of it, right? It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being there for each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

His words hit me deep, breaking down some of the last barriers I’d been holding onto. I wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant every word. And the way he was looking at me now, with such sincerity and conviction, made it impossible not to.

“I’m trying, Oscar,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying to let go of all the fear and just… be with you. But it’s hard.”

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against mine. “I know it is. But you don’t have to do it alone. We’ll take it one day at a time, okay? No pressure, no rush. Just us, figuring it out together.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath against my skin, the steady beat of his heart against mine. “Okay,” I breathed, finally allowing myself to let go of some of the fear I’d been holding onto. “One day at a time.”

We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, the silence between us comfortable and reassuring. For the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of peace, a quiet hope that maybe—just maybe—I could trust in this, in us.

As the evening wore on, Oscar pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. “Do you want to stay tonight? No pressure, of course. We can just watch a movie or something.”

I hesitated, the old fears still whispering in the back of my mind, but they were quieter now, drowned out by the warmth and security I felt in his presence. “I’d like that,” I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’d like that a lot.”

He smiled back, his eyes lighting up in that way that always made my heart skip a beat. “Good. I’ll go grab some blankets.”

As he got up to gather the blankets, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. This was new territory for me—allowing myself to be vulnerable, to trust someone else with my heart. But with Oscar, it didn’t feel as terrifying as it once had. It felt right.

Later, as we lay on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and each other’s arms, I felt the last of my apprehension melt away. This wasn’t about perfection or guarantees; it was about trust, about taking things one step at a time, together. And for the first time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could really do this.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Oscar murmured against my hair, his voice laced with contentment.

“Me too,” I whispered back, closing my eyes and letting myself drift off into the comfort of his embrace.

As I lay there, surrounded by the warmth of his arms, I knew that this was just the beginning. There would be more challenges ahead, more moments of fear and doubt, but for now, I was content to take things one day at a time, knowing that I wasn’t alone in this journey. And as long as Oscar was by my side, I knew I had something worth holding onto—something real, something that could last.

Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya (uh, uh)

Ay, ay (uh, uh)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚☽˚.⋆ *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅✈︎ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

OP81 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @evie-119, @asparklysoul, @dhanihamidi, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @cmleitora, @d3kstar

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar

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rizlowwritessortof · 1 month ago

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@jacklesversebingo Square #3!

Written for Jacklesversebingo2024. The prompt for this one is 'Come on. I'll show you how to dance.' This went a little bit of a different direction than I expected, but I think I like it - hope you do, too!

The big Founder's Day party for Vought International is a 70's disco theme, and your friend Camille has talked you into going, even though you'd rather stay home with a book and glass of wine. You never imagined you'd be dancing the night away with your superhero crush.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2992

Warnings: Nothing but smut (and maybe a little glimpse through the cracks in Soldier Boy's armor)

Dividers thanks to @firefly-graphics

You walk up to the entrance, shivering a little as a brisk late-October breeze dances around your bare legs and ruffles your skirt. You hand the expressionless suited man at the door your Vought ID, and he nods, waving you by.

You’re not sure why you came. You are a low-level executive assistant at Vought, and you’re honestly surprised that they have bothered to invite people at your pay grade to this Founder’s Day party. You know very few people that you work with, and you would much rather be at home in front of your fireplace in your fuzzy socks with a glass of wine. But you had promised your coworker, Camille, that you would come.

“It’ll be fun! We get to dress up retro and cut loose on the company’s dime! And who knows? You might get a chance to dance with a supe!”

The whole night was planned around a 70’s disco theme. You had raided a vintage clothing store and found the perfect dress, a jewel-toned blue that shimmers in the light, the fabric soft and clingy, with a skirt that will whirl when you dance. If you dance. And if you don’t break your neck in the platform heels you’re wearing. You even tried to curl your hair in the Farrah Fawcett style, but you’re not sure if you really succeeded. Oh, well, not like anybody will really notice anyway, right?

Vought has rented the entire night club for the event, and you’re a little intimidated at the number of people attending. Once again, visions of sitting by your fireplace where you’re safe and alone flash through your mind, and you’re tempted to turn around and leave. But you hear your name, and turn to see Camille rushing towards you, her mouth open in amazement. “Oh my God, girl, you look fantastic! Where did you find that dress?”

She proceeds to pull you into the main room, over to a table she has already claimed, and you hang your jacket on the back of your chair and let her lead you to the bar. “Tequila sunrise, please,” you order, glancing around the room. They have gone all out for this – two huge mirrored disco balls hang above a lighted dance floor, both inactive at the moment. There is music playing in the background, but the DJ hasn’t started the show yet, giving more people a chance to arrive. The bartender slides your drink over with a wink and flirty smile, and you smile back. He’s dressed for the theme, right down to his puka shell choker.

By the time the DJ is in full swing, you are actually enjoying yourself. Of course, the tequila is probably helping, but you had expected to be heading back home by this time. A few people are on the dance floor, but you haven’t ventured out there yet. More tequila is probably needed for that.

It’s fun seeing all the 70’s costumes, but most of the supes in attendance are just wearing their normal suits, and it’s kind of a disappointment. Of course, they’re all in their own orbit – most of them wouldn’t be caught dead fraternizing with Vought peons.

Flirty bartender has just handed you your third (you think?) drink when a smooth, deep baritone interrupts your conversation. “Well, well, well - where has Vought been hiding you?”

You turn to face a broad chest, leading up to even broader shoulders, and from there… “S-Soldier Boy?” you stammer, instantly star-struck. You have never actually seen him in person, and he’s more than impressive. He has actually embraced the theme, dressed in a silky shirt swirled with iridescent blues and purples, open far enough to expose a pair of gold chains gleaming against his tanned chest. His light-colored bell bottoms are clinging to his powerful thighs, and they are doing nothing to hide his other – assets.

“Oh, kitten, you can call me Ben.” The tone of his voice is like a caress, and you nod, unable to speak at the moment. You take a swallow of your drink, watching as he turns to lean an elbow on the bar. “Seriously, why have I never seen you before?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep your heart from pounding its way out of your chest. “I work in the accounting department. I don’t suppose you get in there very often.”

He scoffed. “Never. Numbers are not my job. But I might have to find a reason to check in once in a while, if they’re keeping gems like you hidden in there.” You’re blushing, or it’s the alcohol, but either way, your temperature is rising. “So – how about a dance?”

You duck your head, embarrassed. “I – I don’t really know how. Especially this kind of dancing, I’ve never…”

He reaches over to take your hand in his, caressing it with his thumb, and your mind immediately begins to imagine his touch on other more intimate parts of your body. “Come on. I’ll show you how to dance. After all, I was here in the 70’s, you know. I practically invented The Hustle.”

You’re a little panicked as he leads you towards the dance floor, and you glance back at your table. Camille is staring at you with her mouth hanging open. The flashing lights make you a little dizzy as he pulls you close, his hand large and firm on the small of your back, holding you close to his body. He’s warm, and solid, and when he starts to move, he just guides you along with him. “It’s just like making love, baby doll – feel the rhythm and go with it.”

By the time you’re almost through the second song, you’re getting the hang of it. “You’re doing great. All you have to do is let your body do what it feels.” He leans closer, his lips next to your ear. “Your body’s got my body feeling all kinds of things I can’t do out here on the dance floor.” His hand moves down a little farther, and the movement of his hips is causing sparks to run up your spine. “Hold on, kitten,” he says, then spins you out away from him, twirling you and then bringing you back close, grinning down at you as he dips you back before bringing you upright again. You look up at him, your eyes sparkling as you laugh. “See, you just have to let go. Having fun?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you answer a little breathlessly, letting him have the lead and following as best you can. You’re not perfect, but he’s strong enough and accomplished enough to keep you where you need to be, and you are not hating the feeling of being held tight in his arms. The two of you are drawing some attention, and he obviously loves it, shamelessly showing off and bringing you along for the ride. You dance your way through Stayin’ Alive, Car Wash, Boogie Fever, Funky Town and yes, even The Hustle. When the DJ announces that he’s taking a break, you are a little relieved. You need a cold drink and to get off your feet for a while.

You move to head towards the bar, but Ben stops you, grabbing hold of your hand. “Come with me – I’ve got a nice, quiet spot where we can cool off.”

As soon as the two of you leave the main room, Ben backs you against the wall, his eyes fixed on yours. He bends to kiss you, slow and sensual, and when he finally raises his head, you stand there stunned for a moment. Of course, like many women, you’ve dreamed of this – but it’s so much more than you could have imagined. Then he takes you by the hand, and you follow him around the corner and down the hall. He opens a door and leads you into a lavish office, complete with a living room area and a full bar. “Want a drink?”

“I just need some water,” you say, your eyes scanning the room. “So – do you own this place or something?”

Ben laughs. “No, just a frequent flyer. Owner lets me use this room if I need, you know, a little privacy.” He hands you a bottle of water, opening one for himself and downing almost the whole bottle.

You stare at his lips and his throat as he swallows, feeling your body flush hot, finally pulling your eyes away and drinking a good portion of your water as well. You wander around the room, examining things here and there, the whole night feeling a little surreal. “So – can I ask you a question?”

“I’m an open book, baby doll.”

You pause your exploring, leaning your back against the front of the bar, looking up at him as he moves to stand in front of you. “Why am I here? I mean, why are you spending time with me? You go out with supermodels and movie stars. I’m just an executive assistant in the accounting department, just an ordinary girl, nowhere close to the glamorous people you’re usually with.”

He looks down at you, the back of his fingers brushing over your cheek. “The thing is – the people around me, they are always putting on an act. Trying to do or be or look like what they think I want. Not an authentic one in the bunch. It gets old. Sometimes – well, sometimes I just want to be with somebody real. Someone sweet and genuine,” he says as he gazes into your eyes. “Somebody who doesn’t put on an act. Somebody who just is who they are. So maybe I can fucking let down my guard for a little while.” There’s a fleeting flash of vulnerability in his eyes, gone so quickly you’re not sure you actually saw it.

His response to your question is unexpected, and you look up at him, debating with yourself for a moment. Then you step up close to him and reach to put your hands behind his neck, standing on tiptoe to press your lips to his. He sets his water behind you on the bar and slips a hand around to your back, urging you closer, the fingers of his other hand tangling in your hair as he angles his mouth over yours and deepens the kiss.

You cling tighter to him, your heart pounding, as he scoops you up and carries you over to the large sofa, lowering you down and hovering over you, your lips still sealed with his. Your eyes flutter open as he lifts his head, and he stares down at you with a warmth in his eyes that sets your pulse racing. “If you don’t want this, now’s the time to tell me,” he says, watching you closely for a reaction, but you pull him back down and kiss him again, no question at all in your mind. You want him, and you’re pretty sure your stars won’t align this way again.

Somehow he manages to slip his hands underneath you and unzip your dress, and he soon has it down around your waist. He stops, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks his fill. “You’re a beautiful girl,” he says, his voice rough with arousal as he palms your breast with one large hand, bending to flick his tongue over the nipple of the other. You let out a breathless moan, and he chuckles quietly as he sucks a mark into your soft flesh, one hand slipping up beneath your dress to explore the heat between your thighs. “So wet for me,” he murmurs, his mouth still teasing at your nipples, making you arch up underneath him. You are aching with the desire for more, and you let out a desperate whine.

He tugs at your nipple with his teeth before raising his head to look down at you, then standing up and taking your hand to help you to your feet. “Let’s get rid of this dress, shall we?” He slips the silky garment over your head and tosses it over a nearby chair. “Much better. And you won’t be needing these.” He tears your panties apart with one tug, dropping them to the floor, then pushes you gently back down on the couch. “Now, where were we?”

His lips are hungry as he bends to kiss you, his hands roaming over your skin. He finally slips a finger inside you, and your hips lift up to meet his touch. “Oh, you want more,” he teases as he lifts his head to watch your face, adding another finger and stroking inside you until he gets the reaction he’s waiting for. “Feel good, baby doll?” You nod, soft little noises escaping your lips, and you buck up hard as he begins to rub at your clit with his thumb. He ramps up the speed, and you are almost in tears, so desperate to relieve the tension in your body. When he moves his other hand to pull and twist at your nipple, that tension snaps and you cry out as you come, faintly hearing his soft, victorious laugh.

When he pulls his fingers free, you slowly let your eyes drift open, watching him suck his fingers clean. “You think that was good, just wait,” he says, raising up to one knee, his other foot planted on the floor as he unfastens his pants and pulls them down to free himself. Your eyes grow wide as you take in the sight – he is bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you’re a little uneasy.

“Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll take it slow,” he says, and you swallow hard, nodding as he watches you. He lowers himself down, scooping one arm beneath your knee as he slots himself between your thighs and begins to push inside you. He nuzzles at your neck, whispering, “Relax,” and you take a deep breath and try. He’s not hurting you, but the stretch is intense, and you grasp at his biceps, your nails digging in. He continues slowly, a low groan in his throat when he is finally flush with your body. “Good girl.”

You shudder hard, and he crushes his lips to yours again as he moves, just slightly at first, allowing you to adjust to him. Then he raises his head, looking into your eyes as he begins to thrust, slowly building up to a steady rhythm, each stroke becoming harder, deeper. Your quiet little whimpers and moans are getting louder as he ramps up, fucking into you at a furious pace, so deep it almost aches, but it feels so damn good that you never want it to stop. “Such a sweet, tight pussy,” he growls out, and you begin to wail and shout his name as he pounds into you. “Come on, baby doll, I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

And you do, so hard it feels as if every cell in your body explodes, your cunt gripping him so tight he swears. “Fuck!” He keeps driving into you as you clutch mindlessly at him, hoarsely crying out his name. You are finally starting to come down when he lets out a long, low moan and unloads, flooding you with heat and sending aftershocks through you that make you clench your teeth, whimpering as you finally go limp underneath him.

When you walk out of the bathroom a while later, after getting dressed and doing damage control to your hair and makeup, Ben is standing at the bar. He finishes snorting something white off the bar top before tossing back the remainder of his whiskey. “So, time for the real party to start?” you ask quietly, going to retrieve your shoes from beside the door.

He clears his throat. “Gotta go mingle with the elite, part of the job,” he says, watching you slip your shoes back on. “And doing that sober? No thanks.”

“Then why do you do it?”

His voice is different when he answers – cocky, arrogant. “Hey, I’m America’s first superhero. That’s my fucking life, baby doll.” He turns to look at you. “Looks like maybe you’re done for the night.” He smirks. “Did I wear you out?”

You stare back at him. “I liked you better before. When you were just being Ben. Soldier Boy might be a superhero, but I think he’s kind of a dick.” You reach for the door handle, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“How about I walk you out. My driver can take you home, if you want.” He sounds softer again, and you hesitate for a moment before nodding.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

He escorts you back through the club, stopping to grab your jacket. Camille is on the dance floor, so you’re spared explaining where you’ve been. He keeps a hand on the small of your back as he guides you through the crowd, and you take a deep breath of the cool, crisp air when you finally make it outside. The quiet compared to the deafening noise inside the club is a relief, and you turn to face him with a smile as his driver pulls up to the curb. “Thank you, Ben. I really did have a great time tonight.”

He responds with a crooked smile, raising a hand to touch your face. “Yeah. Me, too.” He bends to place an almost chaste kiss on your lips, then another not so chaste, leaving you with face upturned and eyes slowly fluttering open. “Do me a favor, kitten. Stay just the way you are.”

You smile up at him a little shyly, then get into the back of the car when he opens the door for you. “Good night, Ben.” You watch him standing there, lighting a cigarette (or a blunt, you’re not sure) as you pull away. “Good night, Soldier Boy,” you whisper to yourself.

Tags for my lovelies:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

@geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel

@darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5

@melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog

@savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain

@undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie

@tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic

@kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma

@ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1

@winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @torn-and-frayed

@sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @maliburenee @mrsjenniferwinchester @yeehawbitchs

@emily-winchester @hobby27 spnbaby-67 @zepskies @ladysparkles78

@alwaystiredandconfused @just-another-busyfangirl @muhahaha303 @deansimpalababy @kr804573

@suckitands33 @ej13928 @lmhf1

#seduction at the disco #jacklesversebingo24 #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x reader #ben x reader #soldier boy smut

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asimmingpunsquared · 1 year ago

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given permission, it's time to call the matchmaker! who catches camille's eye, apparently, lmao

#the sims 2 #ts2 #sims 2 #simblr #sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 maxis match gameplay #stilla #spc #spc: yearfiveweekone #spc: martell #spc: my5w1 #camille loose

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photmath · 4 months ago

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Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: After the Storm

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him.

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: anxiety, self-doubt, miscommunication, cursing

Note: Aurie reminding us that even the most strongest and independent people have their moments of doubt and still need reassurance too.

Aurie isn’t in bed next to Kylian when he rolls over and feels for her. Maple is curled at his feet, snoozing with her tail covering her eyes. The sun shines brightly into the room, filling every crevice of the bed that he knows it’s way too early for Aurie to be gone. He listens quietly for the quiet patter of her footsteps, trying to figure out where she wandered throughout the house as she’s not in the restroom.

Scoffing, he rises and dresses himself with his boxers and a pair of shorts. They slept late last night, Kylian staying back to help Aurie break down the decorations of the nursing home, and then laying in a tangle of limbs in her bed. Once it hit two in the morning, they finally slept, after having spent the night together tracing and memorizing every sliver of skin they shared.

Kylian pats Maple’s head, causing her to open her eyes and purr, stretching out towards him. A small smile finds his face as he exits her room and searches for Aurie. Already he knows something is uneasy. The rest of the house reeks of cleaning supplies, drenched dirt, and there’s a low hum of music coming from her library. Thudding down the stairs, he turns towards the library and sees her dusting the bookshelf, a large stack of books on the small table, a second away from collapsing onto the ground.

“Aurie,” he mutters, noticing her in a short pair of night shorts and a loose shirt.

She spins around to face him, her cheeks flushed. “Did I wake you?”

He shakes his head, walking closer to her. “No.”

“Sorry,” she smiles softly at him and then bends down to clean the bottom shelf. She grabs a book and haphazardly places a book on the ever-growing stack, it wobbles, and Kylian steps towards it, holding it.

“Aurie.”

“What’s up?”

“Come on, what are you doing?” He rubs his face, splitting the stack so that it doesn’t fall over on top of her.

“Cleaning.”

“It’s not even seven in the morning yet, Aurie,” he sighs.

Aurie purses her lips, disliking the way he utters her name. She knew he was tired, and she would’ve been too if it weren’t for her mind thinking of a hundred thoughts per second. She didn’t get much sleep last night, constantly thinking about Kylian and his move to Madrid. It was infuriating to be consumed by a man who lived so differently than her, yet made her question what she wants. The same man who seemed to have torn down her walls so easily before but now they were back up.

Before Kylian, she was sure of herself and her career. She had bounced through different departments—pediatrics, geriatrics, nursing homes, out-patient care, physiotherapy for a club—and was sure that the simple life of working at nursing home was it for her, that she wasn’t strong enough mentally to handle any other group, but now she wasn’t sure.

Besides Kylian, she thought of Maria and Estrella’s words, how she does have the time to still figure everything out. Still has time to see where she fits, whether that is in the nursing home or somewhere else. She had the power and skill.

And then Aurie scrambled to the last thought: that Kylian still had yet to ask her if she would even be willing to go to Madrid with him. What if he didn’t? What if he understood what the nursing home, the house and pets, and how much Camille and Simone meant to her, that the thought of splitting them up would never come across his mind, so he wouldn’t even think to ask Aurie—

“Aurie,” Kylian whispers, slipping his hand behind her waist and pulling her closer to him. He grabs a hold of the dusting cloth, prying it out of her hand and setting it down near the edge of the books. “C’mere.”

His warm skin burns her cheeks and neck as his strong arms engulf her. He smells of heat and her bed sheets, the sleep marks still evident in his shoulders. Aurie hugs his waist, clasping her hands where they meet, sighing deeply. She can feel her own body relax and mold into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.

He kisses her temple, pulling back. His finger traces around her ear. “What are you thinking? Let me in.”

It’s three simple words that Aurie wishes were as simple as saying them. But her tongue knots, her throat closes as she stares at his eyes. They’re soft, but there’s an emotion in them that makes her heart lurch, an ache that travels underneath her breastbone and through her ribs, paralyzing her in that spot. Aurie can plainly see the tension around his eyes and jaw.

“I can’t,” she croaks, slipping out of his grip. Kylian sighs, reeling his arms back slowly, offering her a faint smile but she knows it’s merely out of politeness rather than genuine. “I’m sorry. I know I said I wasn’t going to run away and I’m not, but—I need some time to think.”

“Okay,” he says softly, stepping away from her. The air stills between the two of them, a silence so sudden and profound that even Bleu stutters to a stop, his wagging tail going stiff.

Kylian glances at Bleu, walking out of the library, petting his head before going upstairs. He doesn’t know what to do. Maybe in some way this is her punishment towards him after the past week, but Aurie isn’t that cruel.

His phone buzzes from his pocket as he reaches the top of the stairs, he reads the message from Raphael.

Hey, I found Stefan. I have his mother’s contact information, should I send it?

“Hey,” she says, sandwiching the phone between her ear and shoulder. Escaping to the ballroom to clean the rest of the remnants of last night, she called Martin, needing to talk to him.

“Aurie,” Martin beams. “What do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

Aurie snorts, tossing the last bits of trash into the bin. “Hardly pleasure. Erm, got to ask, are you staying at PSG?”

“Absolutely not,” Martin says curtly. “Management is in shambles. I cannot in good faith stay there and try to micro-manage all their injuries while simultaneously listening to a new staff try and implement their different plans. No one can agree on anything.”

She purses her lips. “That bad?”

“Very, had I not been dealing with this, I would’ve fallen up on more of those in-person visits of Kylian like I said I would, but I knew you could handle him.”

Aurie nods, “So what are you going to do now?”

“Well, at the moment, back to orthopedics, in-patient and out-patient. Rather do that for the next couple of months at least. And you, Aurie? Has taking care of Kylian changed your mind about going back on the field?”

She laughs, sitting down in a seat. “No. Not at all—”

“You aren’t bad, you know? It can be intense and quick-paced, but you have it in you. You always have.”

“I know, I just rather not always be on edge all the time. It’s too much.”

“Mm-hmm,” Martin hums.

“Working with Kylian has made me realize that maybe I can do something else as well. Maybe just volunteer at the nursing home instead of working primarily there.”

“Ah. I saw that you two got very close…” There’s a light-hearted tone in his voice, perhaps teasingly.

“I know,” Aurie cringes, remembering who she’s talking to.

“I mean, technically—”

“Martin, we do not need to have this conversation.”

“Okay okay,” he chuckles. “All I’m saying is that you two got close and now he’s leaving. Is this why you are asking me?”

“Yeah…I don’t know if I want to get back into the hospital setting but maybe.”

“You can always work with me.”

“Martin.”

“Well, maybe not if you are planning on being with Kylian. Look, I don’t have much time on me right now, Aurie, but wherever you end up, you will excel. I’m not sure when and why you ever started doubting your abilities. You are capable of a lot of talented and remarkable things. I would have never selected or trusted you with Kylian had I had any doubt about your ability,” Martin pauses. “Truthfully, I think you should try the in-patient setting again. I know peds scared you, but you didn’t get to see the way those kids and parents walked out of the room when you were there. Maybe even geriatrics. You have given so many people hope, Aurie. You’ll be okay, alright?”

Aurie chokes back a sob. Listening to Martin’s praise reminded her of who she was when she was seventeen and taking his class, immediately getting his attention when she was the only one to pin the diagnosis on a patient of his. What she thought was an example ended up being the diagnosis of a patient he was currently caring for. It was a rare diagnosis, yet, Aurie seemed to know it within ten minutes, asking him all the right questions to arrive at her conclusion. Since then, her skill was highlighted in all of their exams and practical studies.

When she first walked into his class, she would’ve never imagined it leading to where she is now. At seventeen, she wasn’t fearful. She never hesitated, head-on with certainty, yet it all changed five years ago during her mother’s accident.

“Aurie?”

“Yeah,” she musters, sniffling, “okay, yeah, thank you.”

“If you ever need anything, you know you can always call me.”

“I will.”

“And oh hey! I can take over Kylian’s rehab from here. His medical in Madrid revealed that his calf is 95% healed,” he enunciated. “They were impressed with it and want him doing more agility exercises and getting his fitness up. I’ll send you a plan that they shared with me.”

Like a madman on the street, Aurie drove five over the speed limit because there were no nearby cars. It was barely anything over the speed limit, but it felt so damn powerful and exhilarating to steer into her driveway, feeling every jostle and jolt of her car, slamming on the brakes as she stopped in front of her house. Turning it off, she quickly hops out and ruffles Bleu’s fur before bolting through the front door.

Kylian stands there, sweat glistening off his toned biceps through his sleeveless tank. One of his cheeks is bulged as he carries the canister of strawberries.

Aurie’s mouth falls open. “You’re eating my strawberries again?”

A lopsided grin breaks out on Kylian’s face as Aurie nears him, snatching the canister of a few wet strawberries. He bristles, “Hey!”

“Come here.” She grabs his wrist in her other hand and he turns his palm over so that their hands can intertwine. She leads him to the living room and sees that the couch is drawn out into the bed, a blanket loosely drawn over it. She sits down and pats the spot next to her to sit down. “Okay I need to say it now before I start crying, but this is all so stupid.”

His eyebrows crease as his head tilts. “Hmm?”

“I know I haven’t been handling this right and have been very…emotional…but it’s silly because you haven’t even asked me yet.”

Kylian’s hand tightens around hers. He shakes his head, “You haven’t been too emotional. Asked you about what? Madrid?”

Aurie purses her lips, slightly embarrassed. “Not just Madrid, but where we go after this. What this—” Aurie raises their hands together, “—really means? Or what…is this just a summer fling?”

Kylian shakes his head immediately, not being able to hold his laugh as he says, “No, Aurèle, you are not a summer fling.” He lets go of her hand and slots it on her cheek. “You are not a summer fling. I love you. I’m in love with you. Selfishly so, that I would force you onto a plane and move you to Madrid with me if I could, but not only is that illegal…and unfair. You love it here, and I want you to come with me, really, I do, but that is only if you want to come.”

Aurie can feel the tears brimming around her eyes and a tear slipping down that Kylian doesn’t hesitate to wipe away. The small smile he gives her is full of adoration and love. His eyes are a stark difference from the ones she saw this morning.

But he didn’t leave. She left the house this morning, and he had three hours to leave but instead he worked out, spoke with Raphael, ate her strawberries, and waited for her to come back home.

He chuckles, a laugh that is suppressed but he attempts to hide it. “You are going to break my heart if you say no, but that’s okay, you don’t have to tell me your answer right now. I do, however, want you at my presentation. I know you may be reluctant and hate the media’s light, but they think you are my manager, so it won’t be odd that you are there. It’s okay if Madrid is too big for you, hell it might even be too big for me, but I don’t want this to end, Aurie.”

Despite the surge of courage Martin’s call gave her and remembering Maria and Estrella’s words from last night, she feels like she needs to debate just one more time about moving to Madrid—and the only way to do that is to get her career in order. She needed to cross her t’s and dot her i’s before she left.

The idea of being at Kylian’s presentation terrifies her. Her window was a blatant reminder of what happened during the first and last time she was under the cameras of the public with Kylian. But, the hope in Kylian’s eyes causes her to utter the words before she can stop herself. “I’ll be at your presentation.”

“Really?” His mouth falls open in a gleeful smile like a child being promised ice cream on their way home.

Aurie rubs his hand with her thumb, exhaling a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Kylian kisses her cheek, letting his lips linger. “Thank you.” He faintly tugs her with his hand and captures her lips, sealing the promise with a kiss. When he retreats, Aurie feels a surge of heat travel through her body.

“I don’t want this to end either, Kylian,” she whispers. “I need to figure out my job, what happens to this house, my animals—if I do end up moving to Madrid permanently.”

“You need me to convince you?” Kylian proposes with a smirk.

Aurie laughs, hitting his chest with her hand. “No. I just don’t want to leave with many things unfinished.”

“You can always come back.”

“I know, but if I come back and there are problems…I’ll want to stay and fix them.”

“Okay.” He smiles, leaning against the couch, and pulling her into his chest. His arms swallow her whole as he kisses her forehead. “Thank you. For not running away and talking about this. You don’t have to decide everything right now, Aurie, although I know you were probably lying awake thinking about this the entire time, hmm?”

She nods sheepishly, chuckling as she draws little shapes on his clothed chest. “I wanted to wake you up in the night and tell you to just rip off the bandaid, let me know if you want me in Madrid or not.”

His chest vibrates. “You really thought you were a summer fling?”

“No,” she scowls, sitting up to face him. His hand traces the edge of her jaw as he smiles, it’s such a hazy smile behind hooded eyes that if he were anyone else she would’ve asked him if he were drunk. “My mind went there as I thought of the words, trying to describe a short-term girlfriend.”

Kylian snorts, shaking his head languidly. “I don’t know what else I need to do to prove to you how much I love you and would wait for you. I know we moved fast, but I’m sure of it, there is no one else I would rather have beside me than you.”

Aurie simpers, pecking his nose. His words felt like an arrow shooting right into her heart, striking with all its might, imprinting into her, and if she were to pull it out, it would leave a gaping hole that would never be filled. They gave her reassurance, that her worries weren’t for nothing, and that of course Kylian would be patient, would be willing, and wouldn’t rush her to uproot her entire life.

He knew when he walked into her house that falling in love with her would be damn near impossible, but he also wasn’t going to force this girl, who brought the smile to all of her residents and her niece, out of the town. Sure, he would get on his knees and beg for it, but it was Aurie’s decision at the end of the day. And she had a lump of baggage to sort through.

“You don’t have to do anything else. I know you do.” Aurie nestles her head back into the space between his arm and shoulder, her nose scrunching. “You’re kinda stinky, but I love you.”

He pulls her closer, tightening his arms around her so that she can’t wiggle out. “That’s a bit rude, chérie.”

Within the next two days, Aurie reluctantly straightens out her résumé and sends it to one hospital in Madrid, one that she has volunteered for back when she had the stint with the Spanish national team. Martin also enjoyed this particular hospital, so she knew if he had nothing but good things to say about it, then it was good.

She sent it in the middle of the night as Kylian laid with an arm strewn over her lap, snoring softly. She debated on sending it for thirty minutes, switching over the tabs repeatedly, until finally, thirty minutes later, she sent it while muttering a small, “Fuck it.” She shut her laptop and scooted it towards the end of her bed. Closing her eyes, she snuggled into Kylian’s body and sleep came swiftly.

In the morning, Aurie stirs awake before Kylian. Her legs are intertwined in his, sandwiched tightly around his muscled thighs. When she untangles from him, she kisses his cheek demurely, making his eyebrows twitch and turn toward the pillow. She kisses him again, running her hands over the planes of chest.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, his eyes slowly fluttering open.

“I’m going to head to the nursing home,” she says, because really, she did have an actual shift today. Kylian’s lips curl into a smile, his eyes still groggy as he rubs them, not interpreting any of her words. Aurie chuckles, kissing his forehead. “Okay I’m leaving, Kylian.”

“No,” he rasps, grabbing a hold of her propped wrist and pulling her back down.

“I’m going to be late for work.”

“Shhh,” he hums, pulling her back down to his warm frame. “Or take me with you.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“They love me,” he smiles, pecking her cheek. “And they love you.”

Aurie smiles, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. They do love Kylian, and while no one would really care that he was there, it was still…odd? But she also didn’t care to ponder about it, he could volunteer to help some of the residents if he wanted to while she made her rounds, either way, she needed to start getting ready.

“If you want to come, you have about thirty minutes.”

“Thirty?” His eyes pop open.

She shrugs, “Yes.”

“Jesus, Aurie, how do you get ready so quickly and are so calm for something that starts in thirty minutes?”

“It is my first day back, officially, so…I don’t know,” she says nonchalantly like it explains everything. “I’ll eat there, so don’t have to worry about that. Just quickly shower, and then throw on some scrubs, and then I’m out the door.”

Kylian stares at her as if she suddenly grew antlers from the side of her head. But as much as he would’ve loved to join her, he knew he needed to start his new exercise regimens that he received from the physios at Real Madrid.

He kisses her lips chastely and releases her so that she can get ready. He watches her ruffle up Maple’s sleeping form, rile up Bleu and then grab a set of clothes before trotting towards the restroom. He snorts at the sight, his heart thumping in his eardrums.

He falls back to sleep for what he imagines is five minutes, but in reality it’s been 25 minutes. He wakes up with Aurie kissing his forehead, his chin pinched in her fingertips.

“I’ll see you in a bit, don’t forget dinner with your parents!” And then she rushes out of the bedroom door with the animals in tow.

Kylian is restless when the time of the reservation for the dinner comes, pacing back and forth down the hallway as Aurie stands in the kitchen, casually writing down a list of groceries she needs.

“Ky,” she mutters mindlessly, knowing that he is fretting about something, but doesn’t indulge him because the worry is most likely nothing.

He fusses with the tie on his neck, pulling it off entirely and tossing it onto the couch. He doesn’t need a tie, he realizes, it’s just his family. He undoes the top of the buttons and walks down again, spinning around and then stopping abruptly in the kitchen.

“Yes?”

Aurie perks up at him, leaning against the counter with one hip. Setting the pen down on the notepad, her brows raise, “Have you ever been to a grocery store?”

He sighs, and walks—no, strides—towards her. His hands land on her cheeks, cradling her head before he leans in and kisses her lips. The small stubble he was growing is gone, cleanly shaven that she feels his smooth chin against hers.

“You are beautiful,” he says when he pulls away, exhaling with a ragged breath. He glances down at the white blouse she wears, and then at her black pencil skirt.

She chuckles, her cheeks warm up like the first time he’s ever looked at her for more than two seconds. “So, have you?”

He shakes his head. “It’s been years, possibly six, no seven—eight?”

She laughs, her hands fixing the top of his white button-up. “I hate that you haven’t experienced a grocery store in so long. There’s nothing like the crushing disappointment when you realize they ran out of the ice cream you’ve been craving for days, and then a screaming child is behind you begging their mom for candy.”

Kylian smiles, shaking his head at her rambles, too distracted with the way her necklace is shining underneath the kitchen’s light fixtures. He chuckles as he kisses her jaw.

“Oh! And then of course you always forget something on your list. No matter how many times you think you’ve got everything, nope! And it’s the most important item, too.”

His hands snake behind her waist as he pulls her closer to him, pulling her body closer into him. Her neck is exposed so he pecks it, tickling Aurie in the process.

“What are you fussing about?” Aurie asks.

He sighs, resting his head against her shoulder. “I’m just nervous. Worried that the media will find us.”

Aurie smiles softly, hugging his shoulder blades. “They won’t.”

“And if they do?”

“Then,” Aurie shrugs. “Oh well.”

“You won’t be mad?”

“No, I’m more focused on meeting your family than the media.” And it’s the truth for Aurie. The media is at the bottom of her worries for tonight. She also frets about Camille and Raphael making it on time. If she’s going to move to Madrid, she’ll need to get used to cameras.

When Kylian peels away, Aurie massages the worry lines on Kylian’s face, chuckling at the way his lips pucker out.

“They’re going to love you,” he whispers.

“I know you say that, but you know, I still don’t want to do anything embarrassing.”

Kylian grins. “Like what?”

“Fall on my face?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You’ll be surprised what happens when I’m under pressure.”

“Can promise there’s no water bottles,” he smirks, referencing the time she recounted her spraying the Marseille player with water.

She gasps. “Hey!”

His lips split into a laugh as he grabs a hold of her face and kisses her. “I’m kidding! But let’s go, Mac and Paul are here.”

Making their way to the car, Kylian holds open the door and Brice sits in the backseat, who waves with a welcoming smile. “Aurie, hello.”

“Hi.”

Paul turns his head from the passenger seat. “Please tell me you aren’t trying to flood the car again.”

“Oh, my god,” Aurie groans as she sits down, a chuckling Kylian behind her, slithering his hand onto her thigh.

“You know, Brice,” Kylian says, glancing at him. “Aurie called you cute when she first saw you.”

Aurie’s cheeks redden, palming her face. She isn’t sure how she suddenly became the butt of the joke, but she wasn’t going to let them run away with it. “Was I supposed to call him ugly?” The boys snicker, and Aurie taps Paul’s shoulder. “And I didn’t see you attempting to cool him down.”

Paul laughs, throwing his head back, his beaded locs slam against the headrest. It’s the first time Paul shows any personality in front of Aurie, even Mac cracks a small smile from the driver seat. Kylian’s security detail that he kept in place around her house were cordial, never talked to her, not that she minded. She would see them playing with Bleu occasionally but that was about all they gave through their tough exterior. Just three men whose names she mixed up.

“I heard that you took Kylian driving,” Paul says, angling his body towards Aurie. Kylian intertwines his hand with Aurie’s, leaning his head on the headrest, simpering.

Aurie narrows her eyes. “Mmm, yes he was scared the entire time.”

Kylian gasps. “For a good reason!”

Paul snickers as he intigates, “Come on, Kylian, you’re going to Madrid without a license.”

Kylian’s jaw drops, glancing between Aurie and Paul and hearing a stifled laugh from behind him. How are they suddenly teaming up against him now? “Alright now.”

Aurie laughs at his antics. She sticks out her hand towards Paul who shakes it, silently acknowledging their success to get underneath Kylian’s skin. Paul turns around while Aurie, noticing Kylian’s small pout, kisses the back of his hand.

“Tatie Aurie!” Simone leaps off the bench and runs towards Aurie. Camille and Raphael are right behind her, hand in hand. There are hardly any cars in the parking lot of the restaurant. The incandescent lights that line the restaurant cast a glow on Simone’s pale blue dress.

Kylian doesn’t hold Aurie’s hand, worried of paparazzi lurking nearby, though so far it seems calm. They chose a restaurant in Aurie’s town, knowing that the quietness of it wouldn’t draw much attention and renting it out for the night would be easier on such short notice. His entire family was already inside, having arrived about ten minutes ago.

“Hi, Keelan,” Simone greets once Aurie picks her up. She gives Kylian a small wave from the crook of Aurie’s shoulder. Kylian chuckles, waving back to her and then introducing her to Brice.

Camille and Raphael stand up once they meet at the bench. Aurie settles Simone back onto the floor and Kylian fixes the side of Aurie’s blouse. She turns around, thanking him with a smile and his knees go weak. She slots her arm around his back like it’s second nature.

Brice gets the front door and they make their way inside, the hostess leading them towards their table. The lights are drawn down, the only lighting coming from hanging bulbs, a kind of elegance that you would find in the city. It was a wonder she had no idea about this place, it was stunning.

There was some greenery hanging throughout the ceiling, being able to see hints of what it would look like in the daytime. Kylian nudges Aurie to keep walking as she gets distracted, his hand finding her lower back.

“It’s pretty in here,” she whispers. “Seems expensive.”

Kylian snorts. “Hardly. It’s just a pretty restaurant.”

She knows it isn’t expensive, but the ambience is rich. They chose a very good place, one in which she would visit again.

Kylian perks up when he sees his family. His parents, Fayza and Wilfried, are seated on one end, Ethan sandwiched between his niece and nephew—Lana and Isayah—and then Melissa beside Lana. Intertwining his hand with Aurie’s, he pulls her past the hostess and Brice. Aurie laughs, tightly holding onto him.

His nephew and niece greet him first excitedly, getting up from their seats and immediately jumping at his side. Kylian hugs them and then one by one he introduces Aurie and her family to his own. They each draw her in for a hug; Lana and Isayah immediately friending Simone and kicking Ethan out of his seat so that they can sit together.

Afterwards, Kylian pulls out Aurie’s chair and she sits in between Camille and him, Simone across from her, already engaged in an animated conversation with Lana.

It’s Fayza who catches Aurie’s eyes throughout the beginning part of dinner, she glances at her, staring at her and Kylian carefully. Kylian speaks enthusiastically amongst his family, wanting to hear what they’ve been up to more in detail since he’s been gone, and then highlights some of what Aurie has done for his recovery. There’s no way someone could miss how happy Kylian is at that moment. Fayza’s quiet, presumably soaking in the conversation like the rest of them, but Aurie feels like she’s silently assessing her.

Aurie stifles a smile, earning a snort from Camille who then jabs her side with her elbow. Aurie leans in towards her sister and whispers, “Don’t start.”

“That’s about the fakest smile I have ever seen in my life.”

“I feel like this is a test,” Aurie whispers, catching Raphael’s ear who chuckles quietly.

“You are doing fine, really,” Camille assures.

Raphael nods. “Stop doing that smile though…seems odd. You have a naturally resting smile, so just do that.”

Aurie’s face warms when Kylian’s hand slides underneath the table and clasps his hand with her own. Aurie forces a smile that quickly fades, her awareness of every muscle on her face sharper than ever.

A waiter distracts them as they place the order of their meals, a variety of pasta dishes. Kylian smiles bashfully as he strokes her hand with his thumb. “Stop worrying, mi amor.”

“Mi amor?” Aurie raises her eyebrow.

“Practicing.”

Aurie chuckles, feeling some of the tension ease off her shoulders with Kylian’s brief interaction. His squinting eyes and glowing face, he looked so handsome underneath this kind of light—and his happiness is contagious.

The kindness Kylian’s family shows the staff doesn’t go unnoticed by Aurie or her sister. Their manners are all profound, even the youngest of them, and Aurie watches them as they point to the menu of what they’d like. Simone sneaks glances at Aurie across the table, giggling when she does a silly face and then hides her face with the menu.

“She’s made friends,” Camille laughs.

“And look at you, you were worried she wouldn’t make friends in school when she starts next year.”

Camille shakes her head. “Because she can be too blunt.”

“She’s a kid, you know how they are. We certainly were like that.”

Raphael nods, blowing a raspberry. “Tell me about it.”

“Hey,” Camille interjects. “You didn’t have to tag along.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well you should’ve made other friends instead of always following me around.”

“You are all I need,” Raphael winks at her and Aurie snorts, a bubbly but loud noise that grabs the attention of the rest of the table.

“Did you just snort?” Ethan chimes, amusement in his eyes.

Aurie embarrassingly drinks a sip of her wine as the rest laugh, before setting it down. “It comes out sometimes.”

“All the time,” Kylian notes, raising his finger.

“You aren’t that funny.”

The table immediately bursts into a laugh—including Fayza—not that Aurie was taking note of it. She slaps her hand over her mouth to cover her own laugh and looks back at Kylian, quickly muttering, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Melissa interrupts. “That was good.” She raises her glass for Aurie to clink with hers. Kylian is slightly flustered as they clink glasses, smiling fondly.

He leans in to kiss Aurie’s cheek and whispers softly, just for her to hear, “I love you.” Aurie's smile widens and Kylian’s breath catches, brushing her cheek with his thumb before intertwining his fingers with hers again.

Conversation flows swiftly, Aurie grows increasingly at ease, even when the discussion shifts to focus on her. Kylian, never once breaking his gaze from her, becomes more certain that Aurie is the one for him. She speaks with such ease, striking the perfect balance between professionalism and passion, without coming across as inauthentic. Impressionably, she doesn’t back down when Wilfried asks in-detail about her career choices. Kylian knows he can interject but Aurie doesn’t need him to.

Aurie should have known that Fayza was going to be the least of her problems, because the interrogation that Wilfried was putting her under, even Camille grabbed her other hand underneath the table.

“Why did you leave PSG?”

“To be frank, I became too emotionally invested in working as a physio,” she replies candidly. Thank god for the many sips of wine that she had. She’s sweating under his gaze. “Too many season-ending injuries. It felt like I was putting in a long time with these athletes just for them to get tackled and reinjure themselves. It was beginning to take a toll on me.”

“So then you went to the nursing home?”

“Not necessarily in that order,” she says meekly. “I worked in a hospital prior and then settled at the nursing home next door. I am specialized in pediatric and geriatric care, orthopedics as well.”

“Ah, impressive,” Fayza responds, eyeing Wilfried. With that glance from Fayza, Wilfried tips his glass towards Aurie, and she’s never been so thankful for the conversation to subside there, immediately sipping on the glass in a silent toast, and then exhaling a deep breath quietly.

Camille squeezes Aurie’s hand and then retreats it. She gives Aurie a thumbs up before the attention returns to Kylian. His eyes are more glossy than Aurie remembers them, perhaps it’s a mixture of the lighting or the wine, but it’s endearing.

“I’ll be right back,” Kylian excuses himself, following his mother to the terrace. She made a subtle sign earlier for him to follow her, and he’s barely gaining the confidence to get up and follow her. He kisses Aurie’s head before finding his mother outside. The cool air hits him when he opens the terrace door, the wind blowing the door open more forcibly than he anticipates.

Fayza chuckles, a lit cigarette in between her lips. “Are you drunk?”

“Non,” Kylian mutters, closing the door.

“Wine drunk has always looked so interesting on you. Can’t hold your liquor at all.”

Kylian smiles softly, relishing the wind rippling against his shirt. He hadn’t realized how nervous he was for both him and Aurie just now.

“I knew I would like her when you first told me about her,” she starts. “But I think I enjoy her even more now. She’s very smart too.”

“Incredibly.” He sits down in one of the seats.

“What are you worried about then?”

“That she won’t want to leave,” he mutters, glancing away at her careful gaze. “I mean you saw her with her family, they adore her… They’re already tight-knit and deeply protective of each other, just trying to get close with them was tough.”

Kylian sighs, resting his head against his propped fist. Seeing little Simone teasing Aurie from across the table and stealing glances between them throughout the chatter, his chest ached thinking about them being separated by a country-line.

Fayza puts out the lit cigarette in the ashtray and sits down in front of her son. “They are, I can tell. You aren’t going to separate them, Kylian. She’s moved before, without them.”

“I know, but—”

“Seeing the way she is now, she will have no problem traveling for the people she cares about,” Fayza interrupts, and Kylian knows she’s right. “I’ve never seen you so infatuated with someone like this, it’s pure. If it’s true love, the two of you will have no problem adapting to your new life.”

Kylian smiles, nodding alongside her words. He lets her grab his hands and she cradles them protectively.

“Besides, she is very beautiful, strong too. I didn’t think you’d fall in love so quickly with her, but after seeing how she is, I understand,” Fayza chuckles.

They could agree on that as well. Aurie was certainly the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, inside and out. Her heart captured him and locked him inside, and he didn’t want to escape.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Kylian grins, feeling his cheeks grow warm. Fayza squeezes his cheeks, making him laugh.

When the two of them make their way back inside, Kylian heads to the men’s room while Fayza saunters back to the table quietly, sitting in Kylian’s spot. Before he can even stop her, Raphael whistles at him and motions him down the hallway.

“Have you contacted Stefan’s mother yet?”

Kylian shakes his head. “Was waiting on a couple of things.”

“Like what?”

“Whether or not Aurie would be at my presentation and my official announcement to the team.”

“When is that?”

“Tomorrow…”

“And your presentation?”

“Not until a few weeks,” Kylian scratches his neck. “You and Camille and Simi are invited by the way”

Raphael smiles briefly, “Thanks man. I’m sure Simi will enjoy that.”

Meanwhile, Aurie and Fayza disappear onto the terrace. Simone, growing restless and sleepy, rests her head against Camille’s shoulder.

Aurie frets with her skirt once she steps outside, unsure whether to sit or admire the small garden, she does the latter.

Fayza smiles warmly when she stands next to Aurie. “This place is beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” Aurie pinches several flower petals between her fingers.

“Kylian told me about your reluctance to the media,” Fayza continues. “I know the rock being thrown in your window gave you quite a scare, that must’ve been terrifying.”

“Oh,” Aurie says, glancing down. She lets out a forced laugh, “Erm, yeah, a bit. But it’s fixed now, and I feel safe knowing it was all resolved.”

Fayza laughs. “Aurie, you have nothing to worry about. I completely adore you.”

Aurie grins, leaning against the garden’s railing. “Sorry, I am just a little tipsy. I apologize, genuinely, but I’m nervous.” Aurie lets out a shaky exhale, one that she had been holding since Fayza sat down next to her.

“No worries at all, you and my son both seem to be that way—tipsy.” Aurie laughs alongside Fayza. “Anyway, I know being in the spotlight of the media seems daunting and downright scary, but you won’t always have to be in the spotlight. We’re very private and if you don’t want to be in the limelight all the time, that’s perfectly fine. You’ll never be forced to explain yourself.”

Aurie nods, digesting her words. Slowly, they calm her nerves.

“Unfortunately, it will always be a factor, Aurie,” she continues. “But it’s about how you let it affect you. How you react to it or choose to embrace it. You can stay away from social media, set everything to private, or even delete your accounts altogether, but don’t let it hinder you from being with someone you love, okay?”

“Yes, that’s very wise. Thank you for those words,” Aurie says breathlessly. This all but intrigued her and comforted in one go.

Fayza laughs. “You said you were currently looking at jobs?”

“Oh, yes!” Aurie excites. “Well, I only applied to one at a hospital. It’s for geriatrics, the older population. It’s a smaller hospital, and I expect to hear a call back, but—” Aurie shrugs, “—kind of nervous for the first time. I debated applying for a long time the other night and really the idea of starting over in a hospital nauseates me.”

“You’ll be great there. I can tell you bring the kind of energy that lights up the entire room. You showed it tonight.”

“Thank you.” Heat creeps against Aurie’s cheeks. “I appreciate your words, immensely. I needed the extra boost in confidence…been an uncharacteristically few days feeling down.”

Fayza empathizes and holds her arms wide, beckoning for Aurie to hug her. Aurie doesn’t hesitate, chuckling nervously when she wraps her arms around Fayza. Her head rests against her shoulder, feeling small but reassured that everything would be okay.

She blinks away the tears, not wanting to ruin Fayza’s blouse, but her words did mean a lot to her. Hearing them from someone who had yet to meet her in person gave her a newfound confidence—a better judgment than anyone who knew her because Fayza immediately saw Aurie through any walls she attempted to put up.

“You are very lovable, it’s no wonder he fell in love with you so fast.”

Aurie laughs as a tear slips, wiping it away quickly.

As they hug and say their goodbyes, Melissa strikes up a conversation with Camille, the kiddies run alongside the sidewalk after their energy was revived with ice cream for dessert. Kylian’s hand tightly grips Aurie’s, not letting her go as he speaks to his family,

Ethan seems bashful in front of Aurie, and she can’t tell why, but she doesn’t pick on him despite it being on the tip of her tongue.

“I’ll see you at the presentation?” Ethan asks, glancing down.

“You will, it was nice meeting you,” Aurie says.

“You too,” he nods, before Kylian engulfs him into a hug.

“See you later,” Kylian utters towards his brother.

Finally, Aurie untangles their hands and waves at Ethan once more before strolling over to Camille and Raphael. They've moved closer to Paul and Mac, who are standing outside the car, playfully teasing the kids. As Aurie passes Melissa, she gets a warm hug, and Melissa then gathers her children from Paul. Aurie chuckles as she watches Simone leap up to give Paul a high-five.

Camille and Raphael embrace Aurie before she bends down and says bye to Simone. Simone wraps her tiny arms around Aurie’s neck before hopping away with a giddy smile.

On the way back to Aurie’s house, Kylian leans his head on her shoulder the entire time and mumbles incoherently, speaking just to speak. Not that Aurie minds, she’s checking her email, waiting to see if there was any update regarding her job position. She waits some agonizing seconds for the app to refresh before finally, there is an email regarding the position. She skims through the introduction and finds the paragraph she’s been waiting for.

Upon reviewing your application, we believe your exceptional skills and experience are better suited for our out-patient geriatrics role, while possibly aiding some of the new in-patient physiotherapists. Your expertise in both in-patient and out-patient rehabilitation and your compassion—

Aurie’s eyes went wide, her application was accepted!

By the time they make it inside, they can’t keep their hands off of each other, not even bothering to make it up the stairs, just settling down on the couch in the living room. Their discarded clothing lines the path from the front door to the couch. She tells Kylian the news when their chests are still silently heaving.

“Ky,” she says, sitting up. She slips on Kylian’s white dress shirt, which distracts him.

“Hmm?”

“I applied to a hospital about two days ago in Madrid,” she murmurs sheepishly, feeling shy under his gaze. He cradles her head against his shoulder, peering down at her.

His brown eyes widened. “Really? That’s amazing—”

“I got it.”

“What?!” He tries to reign in his excitement, but he can’t because if the position was offered, it meant she’s a step closer to moving to Madrid with him. That she was going to choose him. It also meant that she was over her hump of doubting herself. He kisses her forehead with a firm kiss.

“I got the position.”

“Well of course you’d get it,” he beams, pulling her impossibly tighter into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, chérie.”

She silently curses all the doubts that have plagued her over the past few days and weeks. Despite her insecurities, this hospital recognized her exceptional skills and experience at just 25, deeming her capable of teaching the new physiotherapists. Whatever spell she had been under, she hoped it was gone for good.

Although she completed possibly the biggest task she needed to figure out, she still wanted to speak with her mother before she left. She didn’t even want to think about what she would say when she was moving, but Aurie vowed to not let it affect her. She was able to move past many of the things her mother told her, and one more thing wouldn’t hurt.

Aurie squeezes Kylian’s torso tighter, snuggling into him until she finds a comfortable position to sleep. His protective arms wrap around her like a secure cocoon, and she’s never felt so relaxed as she does now.

-----

Note: Almost to the end. :')

Taglist: @karotland @mrs-bellingham @kylianswifey @kymb-10 @fictional-l0v3r @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @itsjuspenny-blog @mattmurdocksbigtoe @formula101x @et-in-arcadia-ego77 @lovekm @okayymochi @titti-maja @jokertbh @venus2eros @heli991113 @neymarloverxxx @444jodie @mm2007 @freespirit-51 @flawlessdiamond1 @euphoriapillz @imagesthatlive @ohpuckyeah @nothingtoes

#em.writes #comme les fleurs #kylian mbappe x oc #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x reader

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wishcamper · 11 months ago

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Nesta, Interrupted: gendered perceptions of alcoholism in ACOSF

CW: addiction, sexual assault, gendered violence.

Creds: I’m a licensed counselor with a degree specialization in treating addiction. I have career experience with multiple modes of mental health, trauma, and substance use treatment in women-specific carceral, institutional, and healthcare settings. And I know anyone can come on the internet and say that, but I pinky promise.

The short version:

ACOSF stigmatizes alcoholism in line with cultural standards.

Western culture feels differently about female and male alcoholics due to systemic sexism, and thus treats them differently.

Women’s experience of alcoholism is often compounded by or even a result of systemic factors and intersectional identity.

Nesta’s treatment in ACOSF, while repugnant, is in many ways very accurate of attitudes today.

(I’ll be using “women/men” and “male/female” to denote cis afab and amab people. Little research exists on the experiences of queer, nonbinary and gender expansive considerations in addiction and recovery, which is a fuckin’ shame. Studies are also largely conducted with white participants due to enormous barriers to treatment for Black, Indigenous, and people of color, so this convo is inherently incomplete where it neglects those intersections.)

Okay, first things first: ACOSF is a book that stigmatizes alcoholism. I will not be taking questions.

The number one thing to understand is that in America, land of Miss Sarah, we are very bad at addiction treatment (tx). Why? Because our culture hates addicts has as stigma around addiction. And female alcoholics bear a very specific set of stigmas based in their identity.

In Susanna Kaysen’s memoir Girl, Interrupted , Kaysen’s character is institutionalized following a non-fatal suicide attempt. When evaluated, she’s diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, that bastion of diagnoses perfect for people (75% of whom are female-identified) who don’t fit into our polite definition of functioning. As the book unfolds, she reflects on how (white) women are often pathologized when they buck against systems of oppression that create the dysfunction in them in the first place. That is not to say other women in the institution are not genuinely in need of help, nor that mental illness in women is always from a systemic wound. But it’s crucial in the treatment of female addiction and mental health disorders to considered the systemic factors of gendered violence and patriarchy, and the attitudes we hold about women who struggle with drinking.

Think about female alcoholics in media. If she’s young, she’s a loose, reckless sl*t looking for trouble and deserving of the reality check when she finds it (Amy Schumer in Trainwreck, Lindsay Lohan in general). Or if the woman are older, they are discarded, or gross, or pathetic, or evil like anyone Faye Dunaway played or Eminem’s mom in 8 Mile (deep cut lol). Men are afforded a much larger spectrum of experiences and struggles - Ernest Hemingway, Leaving Las Vegas, Sideways, the dude from A Star is Born, Frank from Shameless (brilliant), frat boys, blue collar workers, introspective tortured artists, fucking IRON MAN. I could go on forever, but I hope that illustrates the depth and diversity of male-centric stories of alcoholism not often afforded to women.

One of the most empathetic and accurate portrayals of female alcoholism, in my opinion, is in the show Sharp Objects (the book, too, but actually witnessing it makes a difference). We see Amy Adams’ Camille swig vodka from an Evian bottle while fending off vicious, veiled attacks from her verbally and emotionally abusive mother and experiencing flashbacks of teenage sexual assault. We watch her struggle to find emotional safety in her conservative hometown, both wanting to fit in and get out in order to survive. We GET why she drinks and I have trouble blaming her for it even as she wreaks havoc on herself and others. We can see her clawing just to make it out alive, and alcohol is the tool she’s using to do it, for better or worse.

Which is where Nesta enters the chat. When we get our first glimpse of her alcohol use is ACOFAS, it’s portrayed as something everyone knows about but that she’s still mostly keeping it together - her dress is clean, her hair is neatly braided, she doesn’t need a chaperone to show up to a family event. The deterioration between ACOFAS and ACOSF is alarming, and we know that alcoholism is a progressive condition so that tends to happen. Was there a particular trigger? That’s hard to say. Solstice certainly didn’t help, especially with the pressures to perform and conform to the standards of the Inner Circle aka the people in power. I imagine seeing her sisters bouncey and reveling in the world that stole them and killed their father was probably.. tough, to say the least. The barge party seems to be a turning point as well, though this one is more confusing to me. But given the child abuse, extreme poverty, sexual assault, kidnapping, bodily violation, witnessing her father’s murder, almost dying, WAR - and that’s not even to mention essentially becoming a refugee - it would be amazing if she DIDN’T drink. She 100% has complex trauma, and is looking for ways to cope.

No one with full capacity dreams of becoming an addict when they grow up. Addiction, in my professional and personal experience, is largely a strategy for coping with a deeper wound. People don’t drink to feel bad. They drink to feel good, and to survive. Nesta herself is drinking to survive, but it’s having the unfortunate side effect of killing her at the same time. As she slides into active addiction, the thought of her own death may even be comforting, and alcohol in that way is her friend. (There's some interesting research right now framing addiction as an attachment disorder, but I don't know enough to speak on it much.)

So she obviously needs help. That’s not a debate. What is a debate is how the IC should best go about intervening. A variation on the Johnson method is used in ACOSF (the one from the show Intervention) and appears to be successful only because they threaten her if she doesn’t comply. This method has mixed data to support it, and while it’s very good at getting people into tx, there is a higher relapse rate for those who receive it (1). The “family” gathers and tells her the ways she’s hurt them and tell her the consequences if she doesn’t seek the help they’re offering. And again, so many of their reason are the effects on THEM, how she’s making THEM look, not her pain.

The IC’s ignorance and dismissal of her alcoholism in ACOSF is frankly mystifying. Why do they intervene on all the drinking and sexing, anyway? It seems like they’ve been fine enough with it up to this point. But now it's gone too far, not because of her illness but because she is embarrassing them. And I don’t know about you, but between Cassian apparently fucking half of Velaris and Mor’s heavily documented emotional drinking, that’s hard to square. It makes it feel much more likely that they don’t like the way she is coping, that she is not fitting into their picture of who she’s supposed to be. This picture is inherently gendered, because Prythian society and those who live in it have explicit and implicit expectations of gender roles, whether they’ll admit it or not. Cassian and Mor are playing their roles well; Nesta is not.

That leads me to believe it is NOT all about her, but the systemic and internal factors influencing their perception of her and the ways she’s struggling. It’s distasteful to them for her, a female, to be deteriorating this publicly, despite the fact that her very identity makes it harder for her to function in the patriarchy of Prythian. We hear almost exclusively about sexual violence against women, aside from 2 male characters. Past or present assault of women is a major plot point on multiple occasions (Mor, Gwyn, Nesta, Emerie, Rhysands mom and sister, the lady of autumn, Cassians mom, Azriels mom, I could go on). But something about the way Nesta is contending with that is unacceptable, and I believe it’s because she’s not trying to cover up her dysfunction. In prythian, we keep these things hidden- Mor’s assault is never processed in full, Azriel’s mom seems to be alone at Rosehall, priestesses are literally hidden inside a mountain for centuries. Women process trauma alone and in the dark, but Nesta is in the light and she is loud. She is refusing to hide her problems, and the IC don’t like that, whether they realize it or not.

So why don’t the IC understand this? Like I said earlier, as a culture we hate addicts, or what they stand for, in very much the same way I think we hate people experiencing homelessness. We convince ourselves it was a series of bad choices that led someone where they are, choices we would never make because we are smart, smarter than them. We believe are more in control than that. We can prevent bad things from happening to us because we are good, because we are better than whoever it’s happening to. But the reality is almost ALL of us are one hospital stay away from homelessness, just as all of us are one trauma away from addiction. And with female addicts, we have another layer of expecting women to only struggle nicely and quietly, or to go away. Intersectional factors are at play here, too: white women are much more likely to have alcoholism attributed to mental health and trauma factors, where people of color often suffer the same addiction being more associated with crime. You can imagine how that plays out differently.

So what is the effect of all this? Gendered expectations lead to not only external stigma around addiction and tx, but also to internalized stigma which can limit willingness to seek tx. (2) Many social forces encourage women to drink and discourage them from telling anyone. Factors such as poverty, family planning, access to education, racial discrimination, and location can make services harder to access. Internally, women are more likely to enter treatment with less confidence in their ability to succeed, but report more strengths and more potential to grow recovery strengths during and following tx. For men, the pattern is reversed (3). And women have more successful tx episodes overall when gendered considerations are a part of the design and implementation of services (4). For Nesta, the effect is that she’s forced into treatment and copes by having hate sex with her ex and changing herself to conform to her family’s expectations while the House and the Valkyrie’s actually take care of her. I do not see how Sarah drew the line from there to recovery, I truly don’t. If anything, she recovers in spite of the ICs intervention, not because of it.

In summary, Nesta Archeron deserved better. Nesta deserved the same compassion the book gives to men who are struggling, and it’s a reflection of not just the book’s culture but the author’s culture that she doesn’t get it. Female alcoholics are worthy of treatment that integrates their identities, as those identities are often essential factors contributing to their addiction. What's shown in ACOSF is a reality many women live, and they shouldn't have to.

Barry Loneck, James A. Garrett & Steven M Banks (1996) The Johnson Intervention and Relapse During Outpatient Treatment, The American Journal of Drug and Alcohol Abuse, 22:3, 363-375, DOI: 10.3109/00952999609001665

Groshkova T, Best D, White W. The Assessment of Recovery Capital: Properties and psychometrics of a measure of addiction recovery strengths. Drug Alcohol Rev. 2013;32(2):187–94.

Best D, Vanderplasschen W, Nisic M. Measuring capital in active addiction and recovery: the development of the strengths and barriers recovery scale (SABRS). Subst Abuse Treat, Prev Policy. 2020;15(1):1–8.

Polak, K., Haug, N.A., Drachenberg, H.E. et al. Gender Considerations in Addiction: Implications for Treatment. Curr Treat Options Psych 2, 326–338 (2015). https://doi.org/10.1007/s40501-015-0054-5

#nesta archeron #pro nesta #alcoholism #mental health #sexism #acotar #acosf #stigma #rehabilitation #prythian university #sjm critical

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years ago

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Meet Me At The Altar

AN: for those that don't know angst is my specialty so be prepared 🤭🤭🤭

Synopsis: Your dream wedding to the love of you life is quickly approaching and you couldn't be happier. Little did you know, Joe hasn't been completely honest with you and you get a lot more than you bargained for when it finally gets revealed

Pairing; Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe Burrow Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You twirled around to show your mom, older sister, and best friend your wedding dress as final alterations would be made to make sure that it fit you perfectly. You were due to become Mrs. Joseph Lee Burrow in about another month or so and the closer you got to the wedding date, the more that reality was setting in. You had planned out your wedding with your big sister Marlene ever since you were eight years old while she was ten but swore up and down that she would never get married.

She claimed that boys were too much trouble and maybe she was right.

She had been married before.

And divorced before.

Twice by the age of twenty five.

But you always had hope, and sure enough your dreams came true when you had met Joe and he had swept you off your feet. No one could compare to him and you had even confessed to Marlene that you knew for a fact that he was going to propose to you.

Within three weeks of you telling her that, he did while on a trip for the two of you to the Bahamas.

The engagement would only last a total of eight months with the two of you wanting to walk down the aisle as soon as possible.

You looked over at all three of them to see them handing the box of kleenex to each other as tears brushed the corner of their eyes as they peered up at you.

“So, what do we think?” You asked them as your best friend and maid of honor Camille simply let out a sob.

“Umm, okay, so obviously Camille likes it. Just… girl…. Get yourself together. We have a month to go still. Now mom, Mar?”

“You look absolutely stunning and his jaw will hit the floor once he sees you.” Your mom said as she came over to you and grabbed your hand. She was proud that she raised two daughters who were successful and only wanted the best for the two of you.

“Gorgeous as ever, baby sister. He’s going to really love it. I’m so happy for you. Hopefully this is your first and last marriage. The last thing you want is to be like me and mess up not only once, but twice.”

“Mar, you simply learned a lesson from it. It’s not the fact that you messed up. You truly thought that the both of them were your forever, but it’s their loss anyway. I know how amazing my big sister is even if they don’t.” You said while smiling at her as she came to squeeze your other hand that wasn’t occupied by your mom.

“All they have to do is take in the back a little more and it’ll be a perfect fit.”

You had turned the key into your front door and was met with hearing the sound of the television from the living room. You figured that was where Joe was and you followed the sound to find him knocked out with your puppy Jonah that was a gift for you from Valentine’s Day earlier this year laying at his feet. You took the opportunity to hop into his lap while kissing his cheek. He woke up startled, but immediately relaxed as he saw that it was you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Mmm, when’d you get back, baby?”

“Just now, but you were too busy sleeping to hear me come in.”

“Did everything go okay with your fitting?” Joe asked as he was now massaging small circles along your back and kissed your forehead.

“Yes, and I’m so excited for you to see it. She has to take the back in a little bit at the top and it should be fine.”

“And it’s loose enough so….?”

“I’m not even showing yet so when we want to let everyone know we can, but for now it can stay between us.”

“But we have another month to go.”

“I promise that the design of the dress will make it very hard to tell if anyone is in there.” You said as Joe placed his left hand on your somewhat flat stomach before smiling at you.

“Can’t believe we’re going to be parents too. I couldn’t see myself doing this with anyone else.”

“Me either. Ever since that first date, I couldn't get away from you since.”

“Well, damn. You make it sound like I’m sort of a stalker.” Joe said and you simply laughed.

“You were very persistent I should say.”

“And being persistent led to me finding my wife.”

“And also led to you getting me pregnant.”

“Well it’s not like you exactly said no and you weren’t complaining when I had your legs on my shoulders.”

“Touche, Burrow.”

“Calling it like I see it, baby.”

As the wedding date got closer, you noticed how Joe seemed like he was distancing himself from you. You just assumed it was because he had a lot going on and wanted to get finished before the two of you walked down the aisle so that all of his focus would be on you and the little life growing inside you.

But maybe you were overreacting.

Then again, he would be waking up early and coming home later more frequently. He would always tell you the night before if that would be the case for the following day, however, he hadn’t been doing that either which left you confused.

You knew your fiance inside and out and knew that there was something off about him so you took it upon yourself to send him a text around 3 pm asking him what time you would expect him back home.

You- Joeyyyyy

He replied about seven minutes later.

Future Hubby- Yes, baby? You okay?

You- I’m fine, when should I expect you? I’m making food for us

Future Hubby- I’ll try to be back around 8 but no promises

You- I’ll expect you at 8 because your future wife hasn’t seen you all day and I miss you so make it happen

Future Hubby- Yes ma’am. You know you’re my priority. I’ll be there as soon as I can

You- Can’t wait

“Is that her again?” Marlene asked Joe as the two of them were tangled up in her white bedsheets with her laying her head on his chest.

“Yeah, it is. I promised her that I would be back by eight so I need to leave soon.”

“When are you going to leave her? You said that we would be together and you keep putting it off.”

“First of all Mar, I’m cheating on my soon to be wife with her older sister. It’s a little more complicated than that. And when the hell did I ever say that? I never planned on leaving her for you. Let’s be real.”

“How so? And you have said it..”

“Do you not care about your little sister’s feelings at all?” Joe questioned her and she immediately rolled her eyes.

“Well, do you? I see that you’re here in my bed and not at home with her so what does that tell you exactly?”

All Joe did was sigh.

“She’s pregnant Marlene. I’m not about to do that to her.”

“Just pay child support, she’ll be okay. And besides, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant too.”

Joe realized that he had only one month to go before he walked down the aisle to you, he wanted to spend as much time as he could with Marlene. The two of them had been sneaking behind your back for a while and as much as Joe was trying to cut it off, he didn’t have enough strength in him to do it. Something about her kept him wanting more and pulled him back in every single time.

The first encounter happened when she came over to the house, still distraught about her latest divorce being finalized. The two of them had been legally separated and Marlene wanted to see if they would be able to work things out, but it didn’t go like she wanted it to. She was looking for you, but Joe, seeing her so upset, invited her to come in and said that if he could help her in any way to tell him.

He helped her alright.

Making her cum over and over again in the bed that you two shared.

And you had no idea.

But why would you suspect anything?

She was your older sister, your ride or die, one of your best friends that you trusted with your life so why did she feel the need to go behind your back like this?

Truth be told, she didn’t know why.

You were her baby sister and she would murder anyone who caused or brought any harm towards you, yet she was the main one doing it.

When she thought about it, keeping it a secret from you was the best thing that they could possibly do, but secrets eventually get revealed and she knew that she wasn’t ready to face you. There was no excuse in the world that she could give to you that would make you forgive her and she knew that.

Joe was everything to you and oftentimes you would confide in her about him and about your relationship.

She had never seen you so happy and even though she was happy for you, she couldn’t help but to feel jealous also.

She had already been married and divorced twice.

When was it going to be her turn to feel an ounce of happiness?

Joe was silent for a few minutes while trying to get his thoughts together.

“When did you find out?” Joe asked as he hung his head in disbelief. He could hide a lot of things from you, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide an entire human.

“About two weeks ago.”

“How far along are you and are you keeping it?”

Marlene got a confused look on her face and couldn’t believe that he had just asked her that.

“Are you serious? Of course I’m keeping it. And I’m about a month and some change in.”

“And we’re going to explain this to your sister how? Especially if they look like me! And that means you’ll be due before her. Fuck!”

“So I’ll actually get to have your first born and not her. I thought that you would be a little more excited than this.”

“Move so I can get dressed.”

Joe was now sitting across from you eating his dinner in silence and you couldn’t take it anymore. He had been quiet since he had gotten back home, only barely kissing you on the cheek and nothing else. You could tell that something was bothering him and you were going to try your hardest to get it out of him.

“Babe?” You said, but was met with silence.

“Baby?”

Silence.

“Joe?”

Silence.

“Joey?”

Silence.

“JOSEPH!”

“HUH?! What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that I’ve been calling you for the last two minutes and all you’re doing over there is staring into space. Baby, what is wrong with you? You’ve been off for these last couple of weeks.”

“I’m sorry, I just…. I’m tired, that's all. Wedding planning is a lot but I wanted to make sure that everything was the way that you wanted.”

“But it’s your wedding too, not just mine.”

“I know, but you know I’ll always do anything that I can to see you smile. I just love you a whole lot and I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“Why would I ever forget that? And I love you too, more than anything.”

“We never know what tomorrow might bring and you know I’m always going to tell you how much I love you every chance that I get.”

“Are you sure that there’s nothing else bothering you?” You asked, looking across the table at him concerned.

“No, I promise.”

“Okay, well I promised to call Mar before I went to sleep so I’m about to go and do that while you finish.”

“I got it, baby. Just go ahead, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay.” You got up from the table while putting your plate and glass in the sink before going over to Joe and leaning down to kiss him. He eagerly kissed you back and it almost seemed as if it was desperate.

Like you were going to disappear into thin air once he broke away from you.

“I love you and I’ll never get tired of saying that, you mean everything to me and I can’t wait to marry you.” You said while smiling at him and running a hand through his hair.

“I love you too and you know that no one else compares to you. Can’t wait to change your last name.”

All you did was smile in return before leaving the kitchen and making your way to your shared bedroom as Joe was trying to come to terms with the mess that he had now made. How could he go into your marriage with this hanging over his head? It was only a matter of time before Marlene said something and he felt as if he had to do it first.

But knowing this, you probably wouldn’t forgive him so the wedding would be off the table. But he knew that you were the one for him and that he didn’t want to marry anyone else. No one else compared to you and he was beside himself thinking about how he had been hurting you these last few months going behind your back with someone who is that close to you.

He didn’t know what to do and he obviously couldn’t tell anyone about it, so he had to come to a decision by himself.

And time was running out.

It was now two days before the wedding and Camille was trying to whisk you out the door since you would be staying with her until it was time to say ‘I do’. But you were too busy lip locking with Joe.

“Girl, will you come on?! You can have all the kisses you want from your man in two days because I promise you that he’s not going anywhere. JOSEPH! UNHAND HER NOW!”

“Camille, you have always been such a hater.” Joe responded before kissing the side of your mouth and finally letting you go.

“And I’ll be that because you are cutting into our quality girl time.”

All you did was laugh as Joe rolled his eyes.

“I guess I can let you go then. Less than 48 hours until we’re married.”

“I know and it just seems so surreal.”

“Can’t wait for you to meet me at the altar.” Joe whispered to you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“And I’ll be the one in white.”

“Off-white, baby. Ain’t nothing virgin about your ass.”

“CAMILLE!”

“What? What did I say?”

Camille was now treating you to lunch at one of your favorite restaurants and she could tell that something was off and that you were deep in thought.

“I’ve known you since we were ten and I know you like the back of my hand. Spill it.”

“I…. Joe has been distant this past month and I don’t understand why.”

“Joe? Distant? Are we talking about the same person because? The one who was just all over you literally sucking your face off? That Joe?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. I kept asking him about it and all he said was that he was tired from all the things that we had to do for the wedding but it was weird. I could tell that he was hiding something because then he said something along the lines of for me to never forget how much he loves me and he’s always going to show that he does.”

“Hmm cold feet, you think?”

“No, that’s not it. But something is definitely off with him.”

“You’re probably thinking into this too much, babe. That man loves you and absolutely worships the ground that you walk on. Anytime you walk into a room, I swear his face lights up. He probably has wedding jitters. Everything is going to be fine.”

“You’re probably right, I just don’t want to lose him.”

“And you’re not going to. If he ever hurts you, you know me and Marlene will kick his ass. Now let’s go and get you married.”

“You look absolutely amazing.” You hear your mother say from behind you as she caught your eye in the mirror.

“Thank you, mom. Can’t wait for the rest of our lives together.” You said as you felt the tears coming on, but immediately heard Camille screech.

“NO! DO NOT CRY YET! YOU CAN ONLY CRY WHEN YOU SEE JOE! DO NOT MESS UP MY WORK WITH YOUR EMOTIONS! HOLD IN TOGETHER FOR ANOTHER TWO MINUTES.”

“Damn, who are you? The crying police?”

“I will stab you with my makeup brush, but I don’t think that your husband will appreciate that, but don’t push me Y/N!”

“Just for that I’m crying right when the music starts.”

“Make sure you don’t ugly cry. That won’t be cute for the wedding photos.”

Next thing you knew, it was time to walk down the aisle to your forever love.

With your arm locked with your fathers, you heard the wedding march and slowly began to make your ways towards Joe. When he looked up and saw you, his jaw immediately hit the floor. Once you finally reached him, your dad placed a kiss on your cheek before placing your hand in Joe’s who then brought it up to his lips to place a light kiss on it.

Even now with him standing in front of you, you could tell that something was off. You figured that it would have gone away by now, but something was wrong and today was going to be the day that you got it out of him and wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. The last thing that you wanted was for your marriage to start out with the two of you keeping secrets from each other.

But little did you know that he was about to tell you and that he was going to do it when you least expected it.

When it was time to say his vows, Joe looked at you and saw how you were looking up at him with so much admiration and he knew. He knew at that moment that he had to come clean and would deal with the consequences later.

As the preacher looked towards Joe for him to say ‘I do.’ he said something else instead.

“I… I can’t say that until I tell you something.”

Your cheeks started to get hot and your heart rate had increased. You looked up at him in a state of panic and rightfully so.

But then you heard Marlene’s voice behind you.

“He’s been sleeping with me for the last four months and got me pregnant.”

Taglist:

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

@wickedfun9

@keiva1000

@dandelionwrites8

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow angst #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfiction

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katsu28 · 2 months ago

Text

summer's golden haze - chapter three

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: bar hopping, damsels in drunken distress, and a late night heart to heart. (5.1k)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, lando talks about the hungarian gp shitshow

a/n: yes this is me maybe slightly projecting my feelings about hungary onto my characters okay! they're my barbie dolls to play with i can do whatever i want 😌↕️ anyways hope u enjoy <3

previous chapter | masterlist

“Hello? Are you even listening?”

You blink, bringing yourself back to reality and back to the current conversation. Your friends are looking back at you with matching concerned, albeit a little annoyed expressions. “What? Sorry, I was—I’m here, sorry. What’s going on?”

Samira tuts, but not unkindly. They all know you’ve got a million things running in your mind at the moment. “I was saying our dinner reservations got canceled. Something about the kitchen having to close down for maintenance, I dunno. Anyways, it frees us up tonight and we’re trying to figure out what to do instead.”

“Oh. We could stay in? Order some food, watch a movie?”

“I know what we need,” Camille gasps suddenly, eyes lighting up like she’s just had a brilliant idea. “We’re going bar hopping tonight.”

“Bar hopping? We haven’t done that since—” You pause, taking a moment to think. You haven’t been bar hopping since Samira got dumped by her girlfriend a few months back, the time before that when Maren finally cut ties with her situationship last year. The only time you all go bar hopping is after a breakup. They think what happened with Lando is the same as breaking up with a partner. “Guys, seriously, I’m fine. He was never even my boyfriend anyways!”

“Say what you want, but you’ve been super out of it these past few days. You need to let loose, do something that makes you stop thinking of Lando and start thinking about yourself again.”

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think about myself plenty.”

Camille rolls her eyes at you. “I mean not in that mopey, sad ‘I say everything is fine even though it’s not’ way. There’s more fish in the sea than Lando. Find one, or don’t, it’s up to you. But you need to forget about him.”

Your lips press into a thin line as you sink back into your seat.

You don’t want another fish in the sea. You want the weird little crab with the cute accent and the sparkly eyes, the one you’ve already let back into the water.

The one you can’t have.

Things haven’t been too awkward with Lando yet, but they definitely aren’t the same. Two people who really like each other but have decided to remain friends doesn’t really scream smooth sailing from now on to you. The wound is still fresh, and there are hints of it as you spend more time with the guys.

Immediately filling the empty seat next to each other like it’s second nature but then having to awkwardly scoot away when your shoulders bump or your hands brush. Lingering glances across tables and rooms until one of you breaks and looks away first. Finding him first in a place full of other people and drifting towards him, only to come to your senses and switch up directions at the last moment.

You wish you could say forgetting Lando would be easy. It really isn’t—not when your friend groups have basically melded into one big one, and everyone gets along so well. It would’ve been easier if you’d gone your separate ways, but you don’t think your heart would’ve liked that very much. Not that it enjoys skipping a beat every time you catch Lando’s eyes on you a little too long either.

You wrinkle your nose, brows following. “I’m sad and mopey?”

“A little bit.”

“Okay, fine. Fine, let’s go bar hopping,” You concede, letting your shoulders drop.

If you’re going to get over him, you might as well start right now.

That’s how you end up in bar number one of the night, four tequila shots on the bar table in front of you. You eye the unassuming little glass warily, even as each of your friends snatch one up eagerly.

Samira, as if sensing your hesitation, nudges yours toward you. “It’s one shot, babe. It won’t kill you.”

“I know that,” You insist, throwing your shoulders back. “I just…need a second.”

“Take all the time you need. We’re going all night.”

Tonight isn’t about your feelings for Lando. Tonight is about you moving on, moving past what could’ve been with him and looking forward to what might come next. With or without him.

You hold up your shot towards them, grinning big. “Here’s to moving forward, and making memories that’ll last a lifetime!”

Clinking your glass against all of theirs, you throw back the clear liquid as smoothly as you can, only wincing a little bit at the burn of it going down your throat. It isn’t your usual drink of choice, but change has to start somewhere, right?

-------

As far as bars go, this one isn’t the worst one you’ve been to tonight, but the fun has started to wear off for you. You’d stopped drinking around bar number two, the buzz of your much tamer drink choices after those first few shots starting to die down bit by bit. On the other hand, your friends are still going full steam ahead. You’ve honestly lost track of how many drinks they’ve had at the bars you’ve hit tonight, but they’re holding on pretty well.

“Fuck boys!” Samira exclaims, slamming another shot glass down onto the table with gusto. Maren and Camille agree wholeheartedly with identical slurred ‘yeah, fuck ‘em!’s that make you chuckle into your glass of water.

You know they’re just trying to make you feel better about your decision, and in a way, it helps. You’d finally been able to talk about what went down that afternoon without feeling an indescribable rush of guilt, and although they were disappointed at first, it became less when you’d told them why. They’re your best friends, and they know you better than anyone, so they know for a fact Lando’s lifestyle was not the one for you.

Tonight was supposed to be all about forgetting your feelings, but as the night went on longer and your inhibitions became lower, you still couldn’t help but think about Lando. That mental box you’d put him has burst wide open already.

You’re a little embarrassed to admit it, but you’d done a little research on him after getting home, which turned into a deep dive of his career, his life, anything that piqued your interest in him. You were curious to know what a guy like him saw in someone like you.

It felt a little weird to see him outside the Lando you’ve gotten to know him as, because he seemed…different. He’s still the same sweet guy you know, but on video he’s a more tame version of himself.

Carefully chosen words and shy smiles, he wears his confidence like a suit of armor on camera, to protect himself against the world. Here, he’s all bursting grins and loud belly laughs, unfiltered and so, so happy. He seems so normal, it’s hard to remember that he’s not just your everyday guy. Lando is one of the best and well known racing drivers in the whole world.

Making sure to separate the two is important if you want to stay firm in your decision.

Somehow it hits nearly four in the morning, and it’s about high time you make the executive decision to call it quits and go home. The only problem is, you’re the only semi-sober one out of the four of you. You have the car, but you don’t trust yourself to drive in this state. None of your friends are in any shape to be of any help either, not when Maren is nearly passed out on the tabletop, and Camille and Samira drunkenly swaying with each other right next to you.

You don’t really trust any rideshares at this time of night in an unfamiliar place, and even then, there’s no way you can get them all home by yourself. There’s only one other thing you can think of, one other person you can call to help you out. The one person you were hoping to not have to call.

The moment your finger hits Lando’s number, you have half a mind to hang up. You’re about to, but then the line connects.

“Yeah, what?” Lando’s voice is gravelly, thick with sleep. A little grumpy. Of course he’s grumpy, it’s nearing three in the morning and he was probably asleep. You feel bad that you've woken him up, but you couldn't think of anything else.

“Lando? I’m so sorry to be calling you this late, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Immediately, he sounds more alert when your name leaves his lips. “Is everything alright? What’s up?”

You gnaw on your lip in contemplation until he says your name again, gentler this time. “We’re at a bar in town and the girls are really drunk and we need to get home, but I had a few drinks too so I didn't think I should drive. And I tried to call an Uber but at this time of night I don’t—”

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can come pick you up.” He interrupts your rambling and you're grateful for it, because the more you talk the more you think this was a bad idea. You’re asking him for too much, you're stretching the limits of an already awkward friendship too far, you're— “Just tell me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Drop me your location and stay there.” You can hear rustling on his end of the line, pounding on a door, someone’s groggy voice saying something you can’t make out. Then Lando’s voice fills your ear again, soft yet firm. “Hang tight, ‘kay? Be there soon.”

“Thank you so much,” You breath, truly grateful. He hangs up, and you can finally let out a breath of relief. Lando is coming. You won’t be stranded here.

Lando jumps out of the car as soon as it pulls to a stop in front. He’s got on some nondescript jumper with the hood pulled up over his head and a random pair of joggers, and he definitely doesn’t look like he’d just been roused from his sleep. In fact, seeing him all disheveled with worry like this is kind of doing it for you.

You’re in the middle of apologizing again when Lando crashes into you, arms wrapping around you tighter than you’re expecting, nearly squeezing the breath out of you. You meet Max’s eyes over his shoulder, who you’d just realized was also here, and he doesn’t look surprised at all. He looks rather smug, actually.

“Are you okay?” Lando holds you at arms length, worried eyes scanning you for anything out of place, any injury. Other than your pride, you remain unharmed. Though that pesky fluttery feeling in your stomach is back again, as is the warmth in your chest, and it isn’t from the alcohol.

His hood has fallen off from the force of his hug to reveal the tornado of curls on his head, flat on one side from his pillow most likely, as are the lines on his face from what was probably a good night’s sleep. Until you called, that is.

You blink at him, caught off guard by the amount of care he still seems to have for you. It feels like an impossible feat to tear your gaze away from his. “Yes? I mean, yeah, I’m fine. You—wow, you got here fast.”

“I thought maybe something—nevermind.” He cranes his neck around you to glance at your half asleep friends on the bench. “Are…they okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Tequila, y’know?” You shrug.

Max lets out a snort of laughter from where he’s wandered over to check on them, waving a hand in front of Samira’s face. She swats at him halfheartedly, mumbling a sleepy, “Fuck off, Fewtrell.”

“Sorry to wake you too, Max.”

“Oh no, you didn’t wake me. He did.” He juts his chin over at Lando, who still has a hand around your elbow. You can’t help but let your eyes drop down to it, and Lando does too, inhaling sharply before letting go. Still, the warmth from his grip lingers. “And not very nicely might I add.”

“I had to get you up quick!”

“You nearly took my head off with a pillow, you dickhead!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss on the forehead?” Lando snorts.

“Not from you!”

“Come off it already, won’t you?” Lando turns his attention back to you instead, rolling his eyes playfully when he finds you stifling a giggle behind your palm. “You said you had your car?”

“Um, yeah, it’s around the corner. We can just leave it here, I’ll circle back and pick it up in the morning.”

Lando clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “It’ll probably be stripped for parts by tomorrow. How bout we split up? Two and two?”

“Well, we all know who you want,” Max says knowingly. It makes your cheeks flame hot and Lando’s flush pink, but Max doesn’t waver in his shit eating grin. For some reason, you find his candid bluntness refreshing, even if it is poking fun at what’s going on (or not going on) between Lando and yourself. “You guys take Maren in your car, I’ll take these two and meet you at your house.”

Max manages to coax Camille and Samira to their feet with little trouble, and before you know it they’re off, leaving you alone with Lando and a very sleepy Maren. He rocks back on his heels, biting the inside of his cheek awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do.

“Should we—”

“I think—” Lando bites back a laugh, gesturing for you to speak first.

“We should probably get going.”

“Right. Let’s get her in the car then, yeah?”

You couldn’t be less well versed in cars if you tried, but even you know the one Lando came to your rescue in is expensive. You’re almost too reluctant to even sit in it. But then Lando’s hand touches softly against the small of your back as he pulls open the door without hesitation, and you have no choice but to help Maren in.

Not like you had much of a choice anyways, what with him being the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress call.

“Did you have fun? Before having to play mum to the girls, I mean.” Lando asks a little while later, not taking his eyes off the road.

You blow out a deep breath, sinking back into the plush leather of the passenger seat. The soft smoothness is heaven on your skin. “Kinda. The first few drinks, at least. Felt a little out of place, honestly.”

“What, you didn't charm some guy the same way you charmed me?” Silence fills the car like cement as soon as the words leave his mouth. A pang of something sharp shoots through you, something akin to hurt that flashes through your chest but is gone a second later.

No, you shouldn’t feel hurt. You’re the one who hurt him. Even though he’s told you over and over that it’s okay, it’s fine, he understands your decision, Lando has every right to express his true feelings, no matter how it makes you feel.

“Sorry, that was—that came out wrong. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” You say quietly. He wants to know if you met someone else, and the answer is no. No, you didn't meet another guy, because all you could think about was him. But you’re just friends. You’d made certain of it. So why did you feel like you’d done something wrong? “I didn’t meet anyone else.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Is it?”

A muscle in his jaw clenches as he swallows thickly, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, if that’s what you want. What you’re looking for.”

“I don’t think I’m looking for anything right now,” Your voice is soft, nearly a whisper.

I’m not looking for something that isn’t you, you could add. You don’t. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt him, and yourself, even more.

The rest of the ride home is basically silent, and Max is waiting on the sofa with the other two when you finally get there, entertaining a story that Camille is telling not unlike one would with a child, uh huh-ing and wow, that’s so cool-ing until he realizes you’re finally here.

You take over from then, thank him profusely yet again when he says he’s going to head home, before corralling all three girls into the bathroom like a zookeeper with their animals.

One by one, you help each of your friends through an abridged version of their night routines until they’re all ready for bed, and then you tuck them into the same bed as best you can. You’ve relegated yourself to the floor with a littering of pillows for the night. It’ll be easier to get to them if they need anything during the night if you’re all in the same room.

You’re surprised to see Lando in the doorway once you’ve gotten them all settled in for the night. You thought he'd left with Max, but apparently not.

He glances up as he hears you approach, frowning. “You’re gonna sleep on the floor?”

You shrug. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can keep an eye on them that way. You can, erm, you can go home now. Go back to sleep.”

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure they’ll sleep through the night. Plus, you must be knackered too. You should get some rest, yeah?” You want to say no, but your body’s response betrays you in that moment, because you yawn big, and it makes him chuckle. “Come on. Sleep in your own bed. I’ll watch over them.”

“No way.” You shake your head insistently, despite the enticing offer. “You’ve already done more than enough, Lando, I can’t ask you to stay up all night. I’ve got them covered.”

“You shouldn’t either.” He shoots back, chin tilting up in challenge. You match him as best you can with your eyes growing heavier and heavier by the moment, and eventually, he backs down, hands up in mock surrender. “How ‘bout we take shifts? The living room’s right across the hall, if we camp out there and anyone makes a racket, whoever’s up will be able to hear them.”

You twist your lips to the side in thought. “Deal. I call first watch though.”

“I can live with that. Why don’t you go freshen up, or something?”

“Is that your way of telling me I stink?”

Lando’s eyes glint with mirth, teasing smile curling his lips. “Maybe.”

“Well, maybe you don’t smell too good either!” That’s a total lie. He actually smells really nice, a mixture of remnants of his heady cologne from the day and something fresher, a little citrusy. His soap, maybe?

A hot shower certainly does wonders to sober you up the rest of the way, and as you’re toweling your hair dry enough to where it won’t be dripping water down your shirt, you take a good look at yourself in the fogged up mirror.

This is fine. You can spend a night alone with Lando without feeling anything towards him. You can do this. You’ve done harder things than this.

Lando’s frowning at something on his phone when you make your way back into the living room, scowling like whatever’s on the screen has personally wronged him. It isn’t the first time you've noticed his demeanor turn sour like this, and your concern is piqued each time.

You clear your throat as if to announce your presence, offering him a small smile when his head whips up. “Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just work.” He tosses his phone on the coffee table, dragging a hand forward through his curls, mussing up the front before raking them back. It doesn’t seem to do anything but make them messier, but you suspect it’s more of a nervous habit than anything.

He smiles back at you as you sit a respectable distance away from him on the sofa, though even that looks entirely forced. Something is wrong, and it’s eating away at him.

“Look, I know things aren't how they used to be with us, but I hope you know I’m still here for you. You can always talk to me if you need to.”

Lando gnaws on his bottom lip, head tilting from side to side like he's unsure. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Friends are there for each other.”

He blows out a deep sigh, sinking back against the pillows like a deflated balloon. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

“I’m a good listener, remember?” You nudge his knee with yours gently. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.”

He isn’t ready right away. For a little while, you sit in silence. You get the feeling Lando doesn’t have much experience with letting people in very easily, but it's okay. You’ll sit here as long as he needs to get his thoughts together.

Finally he speaks, but even then, his tone holds hesitance.

“I feel like everything is going to shit. The car is great this season, it’s better than it's ever been before, so that’s not the problem. It’s me, I’m the problem, I keep fucking everything up," He sighs, shoulders slumping. "And my team work so hard for me to be able to perform and deliver and I feel like I’m just letting everyone down, y’know? They deserve someone who can give them better than the shit stuff I’ve been putting out these past few races.”

Lando as a person is impossibly hard on himself, you’ve come to learn—always thinks he could’ve done better, even if what he’s already done is enough. The same is true when it comes to his job.

You’d know—you checked. In your uninformed opinion, the results he’s been achieving in the races are great. To be finishing high in the top five out of twenty of the best drivers in the world in almost every single race recently, it’s enough to make anyone proud.

But when you think about it from a competition perspective, a cutthroat drive with everything you’ve got, put everything on the line perspective, you get a sense of why he’s beating himself up.

To know he can win and still fall short, race after race…god, you can’t even imagine how he must be feeling.

You might be clueless still, but at the very basis of it all, you understand. Lando has worked so hard for so many years, put in blood, sweat, and tears, and he feels like he’s not living up to expectations.

You know what it’s like to have such high expectations placed on your shoulders and nearly be crushed by the weight of everyone counting on you. Surely not on a scale as large as his, but you understand the struggle.

Then he goes into the race in Hungary a few weeks back, and you can tell there’s some lingering hurt in him about what happened.

“It’s like they were guilt tripping me or something. Telling me I’ll need the team in the championship fight, that I should do the right thing and give up my position. Call me crazy, but that just didn’t sit right with me at all. They want me to be a team player and that’s fine, I’m happy to, but I dunno…” Lando trails off, nose wrinkling like the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

You notice him picking at the skin below his nail and move without thinking, closing the distance between the two of you and redirecting his fiddling fingers by linking them with your own.

It gets him to stop picking, but it also makes him stop talking. Whatever words are about to come out of his mouth die into a drawn out exhale, eyes drawn to your joined hands like a magnet.

“Yeah? Keep going, I’m still listening,” You urge gently, nodding. Lando blinks at you, as if he’s lost his train of thought. “Hungary? The team?”

“Uh…yeah. Right. I was—I guess I just didn’t think they’d pull all that crap over the radio. Like, everyone could hear what they were saying—other teams, the commentators. It was on live broadcast too!” His fingers tighten around yours ever so slightly, dark brows knit with frustration.

Even though you know close to nothing about the sport, what his team pulled seems like a dick move. You understand wanting to put their drivers in the best position possible, but airing things out on a radio where everyone can hear it feels wrong to you. Then again, you have no idea what goes on within a team at this type of performance level.

“It’s like, they knew I’d do what they wanted me to do and I did, but for a moment, I almost didn’t. I almost went against team orders, and that’s…” He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “You don’t do that. You can’t. You listen to what your team says and you do it, and that’s the end. My boss has been calling every now and then, trying to get me to talk and shit, and I just don’t really wanna talk about work right now. I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Oh, Lando…” You sigh. Your thumb rubs circles over the prominent ridges of his knuckles, hoping it brings him some sort of comfort.

“I know I probably sound like such a brat right now, but I’ve given everything I have to McLaren and it still doesn't feel like enough. They want more, and right now…I’m not sure how much more I’ve got in me.”

“Can I be completely and totally honest with you right now?”

“Yeah, please.”

You hesitate, taking a beat to reply. You don’t want him to take your response the wrong way. “I’m not gonna sit and pretend like I have any clue what it’s like to be in your situation, because I don’t. But I do think you’re being too hard on yourself. Yeah, sometimes you might not get the results you’d hoped for, but you’re doing the best you can, and that’s all you need to be doing.”

Lando doesn’t need your advice, and you’re in no place to be giving any in the first place. He just needs someone in his corner, someone who cares about him to tell him that it’s okay to not be perfect. You want to be that person, even though you’re both still trying to settle into this new dynamic with each other.

Thankfully, your words seem to soak in, easing the tension in his shoulders just a little bit. “Thank you. I think I really needed that.”

“Glad I could help,” You say warmly, squeezing his hand.

“Y’know, I just realized that I’ve never said any of that out loud to anyone.”

“Do you feel better?”

Lando chuckles, and somehow, he even seems better. Like whatever was weighing him down was gone. “Yeah, I do. I feel…lighter, actually? Is that weird?”

“Not at all. That’s what letting things out will do for you.”

“Maybe. But maybe it’s more than that, maybe it’s…you.”

Your breath hitches in your chest. “Me?”

“You make me feel like I can be myself around you. Like, the real me, not the me the rest of the world knows me as. I feel genuinely happy around you, and I—I can’t just sit here and ignore it any longer. I still really like you. And I know what you said about us, and I know why, but I can’t help the way I feel around you. The way I feel about you.”

“Lando, I—”

“I swear I’m not trying to change your mind or make you feel guilty, or anything like that! I just had to say it before it made me explode,” He adds, exhaling shakily. “In the spirit of letting things out.”

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been starting to question whether or not you’d made the right choice by deciding to walk away from Lando, because the more you get to know him, the more it chips away at your resolve. He’s kind and sweet and funny, and he gets you like nobody else has before. It’s been hell these past few days, tiptoeing around each other when all you want to do is kiss him senseless.

Right now, you want to kiss him senseless. He’s right here in front of you, holding your hand, looking at you with those stupid sparkly eyes. You want to say it’s the leftover alcohol buzzing in your veins making you feel this way, but that would be a lie too.

Fuck it.

You cross the already dwindling space between the two of you, sliding a hand around the back of his neck, and kissing him softly. Lando freezes for a split second, but before you know it, he’s kissing you back, guiding you closer until you’re nearly on his lap. His hands roam your back, curling into the material of your shirt, thumbing under it just a tiny bit to stroke at the warm skin there.

It isn’t at all like the first time you kissed. He lets you set the tone, following your slow lead without question.

You’re not sure how long you keep at it—lazy, gentle kisses punctuated with hushed giggles and tiny satisfied noises from the both of you.

Lando takes a pause every so often, pulling back just enough to look at you, take in the sight of you breathless from his doing, and every time, his mouth curls into a squinty, close mouthed smile. You can only bear the fondness in his expression for a few seconds before growing too aware of the way he looks at you and kissing him again.

Your brain doesn’t want to stop, but apparently your body decides you’ve had enough action for a day, because at some point you feel your eyes start to droop, chin following.

As if sensing your exhaustion, Lando pulls away, chest rising and falling heavily. He’s breathless, lips kiss-swollen as they curve into a soft smile. “We should stop. You need to get some sleep.”

“No! We should talk about this. Us.”

“I agree, but I don’t think you’re really in the right headspace to do it right now.”

“I’m fine! I’m okay, I swear.”

“You just nearly fell asleep whilst we were making out.”

“For a second!” You whine, letting your head thunk against his chest. A chuckle vibrates through him. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m tired.”

“Then go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” He insists, lips pressed to the crown of your head. You sigh through your nose. You’d argue a little more, but Lando is right again. All you want to do is go to sleep. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ll be here when you wake up, we can figure it out then.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

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