#if they see this hello thank you I owe you everything actually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherry-leclerc · 28 days ago

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method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all.

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny.

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it.

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?”

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality.

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him.

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared.

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled.

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

How do you do that?

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking.

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it.

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be.

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles?

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status.

Who’s going to do all of that, then?

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here.

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder. “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.”

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now.

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test.

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!”

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent.

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression.

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully.

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon.

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes.

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough.

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow. “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

I’ve decided.

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud.

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise.

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there.

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it.

Notes.

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration.

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed.

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile.

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.”

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared.

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice.

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod.

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?”

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits.

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant?

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully.

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination?

The thought of failing the same way they did.

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples.

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion.

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his…

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.”

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too.

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use.

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong.

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away.

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes.

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal.

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed.

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again.

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else.

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember.

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen.

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it.

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year.

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around.

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you.

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.”

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens.

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken.

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language.

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought.

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.”

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue.

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue.

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.”

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too.

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how.

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume.

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes.

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are.

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.”

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget.

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter.

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile.

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

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

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girlgenius1111 · 6 months ago

Text

unknowns

barça x reader young barça reader has an allergic reaction for the first time obviously, descriptions of a severe allergic reaction, use of epi pen, vomiting, etc.

-------

The day had gone as you had expected it to. Until it didn’t. Vicki Lopez being the voice of reason and calm in an emergency situation was not something you expected, either.

Normally, Vicki was a bit of a troublemaker. It wasn’t entirely her fault; most of the younger girls could be trouble when they wanted to be. Vicki, though, could get away with anything. Maybe it was her age, or maybe it was the soft spot Alexia had for her. Either way, your captains didn’t hesitate to scold you, or Jana, or Pina for a harmless prank. When Vicki was the culprit, though, they would fight back smiles and shake their heads affectionately at the young forward.

But while Vicki got away with everything, she was also very responsible. A fact that you were incredibly thankful for; her calmness and ability to think clearly in an emergency saved your life.

-------

Double training sessions were not anyone’s favorite thing. Alright, maybe Alexia loved them, but she was Alexia. It was a nice day out, though, and while most of the older girls had headed inside during the break, most of the younger girls stayed outside, basking in the warm sun. The film session was due to begin shortly, but you all were trying to enjoy the fresh air before you had to retreat inside to the stuffy media room.

You were content to just lay on the pitch with your eyes closed, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards today. Not when you very suddenly heard a loud buzzing sound in your ear, causing you to sit bolt upright and look around.

“Falling asleep, pequeña?” Salma teased.

You shook your head, looking around suspiciously. It was no secret that you hated bugs. Hated them. And one had evidently been close enough to your body for you to hear the buzzing sound it made. A flash of yellow caught your eye, and you stayed watching it until you realized what it was. A bee. Flying towards the bench planted in the grass. Actually, flying underneath it. The bee flew up, and you leaned forward a bit, trying to see where it had gone.

Then, you jumped backwards, almost flopping onto Jana’s legs.

“Off pequeña, it is hot today.” She complained, shoving you away from her.

“Jana!” You shrieked, scrambling further away from the bench. “There’s a bee hive underneath the bench, don’t push me back towards it.”

“A bee hive?” Jana asked, sitting up and looking at you seriously. “Oh my god, Ona-”

You looked at Ona, who also looked concerned, pulling her phone out of her pocket and holding it to her ear. “Hello? Mr. President? There is a beehive on the Barça training grounds, you have to send the army in.”

Your face burned as you rolled your eyes at your friends. “Alright, haha, I get it.” You rose to your feet, intending to walk away from your friends, but Jana stood too, lightly pushing you towards the bench.

“Watch out pequeña, the bee might eat your head right off your body!”

“I have heard Spanish bees can chew right through bone!” Vicki added. Everyone was laughing around you, and you shook your head, fighting back a smile. You knew they were just teasing, and you weren’t upset by it.

“Fine. Get stung. I don’t care.” You declared.

“I’ll go find someone to get rid of it.” Ona said kindly, though a slightly teasing smile adorned her freckled features, too. She walked away, and you were promptly distracted by Jana lunging for you, jokingly trying to push you back towards the hive. This time, though, you stumbled slightly and fell onto the ground much closer to the bench than you would’ve liked to get.

“Sorry, nena,” Jana said sincerely, holding out a hand to help you up. It hadn’t been her intention to make you fall. Just as you reached to take her hand, though, you felt a sharp sting on your arm.

“Ow! Fuck,” you shouted, your head whipping down just in time to see the offending bee fall away into the grass under you. “It stung me.”

You scooted far away from the hive, closer to Cata, who laid motionless on the grass, not even cracking an eyelid open to look at you.

“Let me see.” Bruna asked, crouching down next to you and holding out a hand. You held your arm out, and the brunette inspected the small red mark on your skin. “Yeah, it got you. The stinger isn’t in there, though, so I'll just go get you a sting wipe. That should make it stop hurting.”

You thanked her, and Bruna headed off towards where she knew the nearest first aid kit to be.

“Pobrecita. Are you okay?” Jana asked, smiling at you. She was teasing, but you could tell she felt bad too.

“It really hurts, Fernandez. I’ll get you back for this.” you muttered angrily, holding your wounded arm close to your body. It really did hurt. More than you expected. You’d never been stung by a bee before, but you weren’t sure it was supposed to hurt this much; you felt an odd surge of anxiety rush through you, though you weren’t quite sure why.

“Don’t be dramatic pequeña, it’s just a little bee sting,” Jana laughed, not unkindly, turning away as Ona returned to say that the grounds crew would be out to look at the hive soon. “Bruni went to get the first aid kit, you’ll be fine.”

You nodded, even as the world around you seemed to slow a bit, as the feeling of anxiety within you grew. You knew your teammates were talking to each other, joking around, but they seemed far away. You knew you were outside, and there was tons of fresh air around, but it felt like you couldn’t get enough oxygen into your lungs. You looked down at your arm, and though it was a little hazy, you knew it had swelled, and the redness spreading across your skin wasn’t normal.

Desperately trying to inhale enough air, you turned to where Cata lay next to you, eyes closed as she basked in the warm sun.

“Cata?” You mumbled, reaching out a shaky hand to grab her hand.

One of the keeper’s eyes cracked open, and she sat up quickly seeing the look of fear on your face. “What is it?”

“I don’t feel good.” You said, holding out your arm for her to see. “It’s hard to breathe,”

“Fuck. Shit. Okay, okay,” Cata said, scooting closer to take your arm into her hands. She looked at it for a second, before looking at your face, which was growing red and splotchy as well. “Fuck. Jana, get a physio, get a captain, get someone, she’s having an allergic reaction,”

Cata said the words in a frighteningly calm tone, but everyone’s attention snapped to you, and it was only a moment before Jana was taking off at a full sprint towards the building,

“I have an epi pen,” Vicki shouted, looking frantically between the older girls, awaiting some instruction. Cata nodded at her, and that was all the younger girl needed before she was running after Jana.

Salma sat down on your other side, gently rubbing your back as it became clearer and clearer that something was really really wrong. You could barely get a breathe in, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to convince yourself that your throat was not closing up.

“Cata, what do we do?” Salma asked, seeing her own terror reflected on the normally easy going keeper’s face across from her.

“We keep her upright so it’s easier to breathe, and we stay calm because everything is fine, everything is fine,” Cata said quietly, pulling you to lean heavily against her. “Breathe, chica, as much as you can.” She reminded you, hearing as the wheeze in your chest grew more pronounced, and as your gasps for breath sped up.

“Cata, please help.” You gasped, reaching up to claw at your neck, completely in vain. It was swelling shut and there was nothing you could do. Your vision was growing dark around the edges and you fought to keep your eyes open as they tried to slide shut. Your body slumped down, Cata catching you just in time to ease the impact.

“Easy, easy. Stay awake, please, pequeña,” Cata insisted, tapping gently at your cheek.

You heard loud voices approaching, and just barely identified them as belonging to Alexia and Ingrid.

“What the fuck happened?” Alexia shouted, sprinting over to where you were now laid, your head in Cata’s lap. Ingrid was right behind her, with Jana bringing up the rear. Jana was crying, and Salma stood to pull her away slightly, trusting the older girls to take care of you.

“Bee sting. She was okay at first but then she was acting weird and she said she didn't feel good and her arm is swelling and I don’t think she can breathe,” Cata explained in a rush, looking wildly between Ingrid and Alexia, fully panicking now that your eyes had closed, and that there was more adult adults there to take control of the situation.

“She needs an epi pen, and someone needs to call an ambulance,” Ingrid stated.

“Vicki went to get hers.” Cata said.

“I’m calling right now,” Salma chimed in, looking over from where she stood a few feet away, one arm wrapped around a very distraught Jana, one holding her phone to her ear.

“Hey, nena? Can you open your eyes for me, cariño?” Alexia said softly, though you were mostly oblivious.

It was the warm hands on your face, tapping a bit more firmly now, that had you realizing your eyes had fallen shut. You forced them open, your inhales barely more than a rattling wheeze now to see Alexia leaning over you. She looked more scared than you’d ever seen her, which didn’t make you feel very reassured. It was comforting, though when she began to softly run her fingers across your forehead and down your cheek, a motion you focused on instead of the tightness of your throat.

“Good, good nena. You’re okay, everything is okay. Just try to stay awake for me okay? We’re getting you help, you just need to keep breathing.”

“Hard,” you croaked, your good arm shifting and blindly reaching for someone, for anyone, to anchor you to consciousness. Ingrid took your hand in hers, her face appearing next to Alexia’s.

“I know it’s hard, sweetheart, just keep trying. Vicki is coming right now with an epi pen. You’re gonna be okay, just keep your eyes open.” She cooed, her eyes looking suspiciously watery.

“Can’t,” you mumbled, eyes falling shut once again. This time, they didn’t flutter back open.

“Nena. Nena! Venga, chica, open your eyes,” Alexia said desperately, looking around frantically. She spotted Vicki in a dead sprint across the pitch.

“VICKI” Alexia shouted, for no other reason than to do something other than lean over your unconscious body. She couldn’t focus on that right now, nor could she focus on the way your chest had stopped heaving.

It was only seconds, really, but it felt like minutes, before Vicki made it to the group of panicked footballers. Alexia and Ingrid both held their hands out for the epi pen, though neither of them had ever used one in their life. Vicki took initiative, though, very calmly shoving Alexia out of the way and crouching at your side. She rolled your shorts up a bit, took the cap off the epi pen with her teeth, and thrust it at your leg without further thought, pressing the button on the end. Once the medication was dispensed, she dropped the pen onto the ground next to her, and sat back on her knees, her eyes fixed on you.

“That’s it?” Irene asked. Vicki looked around, nodding. A group of your teammates had followed the commotion out to the pitch, and now stood in a very tense group around you.

“Yeah. She’s breathing better already, she should be okay until the paramedics get here.” Vicki explained, a bit shocked at how little everyone seemed to know about allergic reactions and epi pens.

“She’s going to be okay?” Alexia asked anxiously.

“She should be. The paramedics are here, they’ll take care of her.” Vicki noted, nodding to where the ambulance was backing onto the field.

By the time the paramedics had pushed everyone away and began to get an oxygen mask on your face, you started to wake up. As your eyes blinked open, seeing two strangers hovering over your body, you were extremely disoriented. Not just disoriented, but panicked. You couldn’t remember what had happened, where you were, why you were lying on the ground, or why your whole body seemed to hurt. You tried to push the stranger away from you with your hand, but it was shaking too much to really do anything.

“Hey, relax, you’re alright. We’re here to help.” The man said, pushing your arm back onto the grass under you. You squirmed nervously, a quiet sob falling from your mouth. Suddenly, a familiar face appeared above yours, and you relaxed almost instantly.

“You’re okay pequeña, I’m right here.” Alexia soothed. You felt her hands on your face, keeping you pressed down onto the grass.

“Ale,” you cried, your voice barely more than a croaking gasp. The feelings of panic in your body were intense, like anxiety was coursing through your veins instead of blood.

“You’re okay.” Alexia repeated. “You got stung by a bee, and you had an allergic reaction. The paramedics are taking care of you.”

You relaxed slightly, letting Alexia take your hand in hers. She coached you to breathe deeply, batting your free hand away when you tried to push the oxygen mask off your face.

“No, no, that has to stay on for now.” She told you, feeling hysterical laughter bubble up inside of her at the disgruntled look on your face. You flinched when they placed an IV in your hand, a few tears falling from your flushed face into the grass. Once the IV was in, they were moving you into the back of the ambulance. You caught a glimpse of the entire team watching on nervously, and you felt another surge of panic rushing through you when you realized Alexia wasn’t by your side anymore. You tried to sit up, but you were too weak to do so. Instead, you removed the mask from your face, craning your neck as you looked around for your captain.

“Ale?!” you croaked.

You had been slid into the back of the ambulance fully when Alexia appeared at your side again.

“I’m here, nena.”

“Can you stay? Please?” You requested tearfully, relieved when Alexia took a seat on the bench next to you. As the ambulance began its journey to the hospital, you focused on the feeling of Alexia’s hand holding tightly to yours, and the incessant questions she was firing at the poor paramedic. It was a bumpy ride that had your stomach turning before long, and you struggled to sit up, yanking the oxygen mask off. Your face had gone completely white as you looked around frantically.

And though Alexia looked confused, trying to guide you back to lay down, the paramedic seemed to have been expecting this, and held a sick bag out in front of you. Your throat still felt tight and scratchy from before, and throwing up felt more uncomfortable than normal. You whimpered as you were sick, unable to hide your intense feelings of discomfort.

“You’re okay, pequeña,” Alexia soothed, as she continued to rub your back, and you would have been embarrassed if you were in any other state. She looked, panicked, at the paramedic, every new symptom worrying her further.

“It’s alright, this is completely normal. Her body is just reacting to the allergen and the epinephrine.” She assured your captain. “I can’t give her anything for nausea until we get to the hospital.”

Alexia nodded, turning her attention back to you. You pushed the sick bag away, collapsing back onto the gurney and weakly reaching out for the blonde’s hand again. You sobbed and covered your face with your other hand, feeling so incredibly horrific, you could barely think. You would have explained it as feeling like you were dying, if you hadn’t just experienced that feeling a few minutes ago. Your body felt like it was caving in on itself, though, and the blonde next to you could tell you were starting to freak out.

“Shh, nena. Just breathe, in and out.”

“Ale, I really don’t feel good,” you cried. Alexia nodded sympathetically; she could tell. Your face was as white as a sheet, you had broken out into a sweat though you were shivering violently. You looked so miserable and uncomfortable, tears pooling in your eyes, as you looked helplessly up at your captain.

“I know, cariño. We’re almost at the hospital, okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on breathing. Another minute passed, another minute of your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You could hear it pounding in your ears, the anxiety building inside of you with every passing second. It wasn’t getting better. If anything, it was getting worse, and you weren’t sure you could cope with it for any longer.

With a whimper, you reached out to Alexia, clinging onto her shirt.

“What is it, pequeña? Are you going to be sick again?” She asked, frowning when you shook your head.

“My- my heart is beating so fast, I don’t, I can’t,”

“That’s the epinephrine.” The paramedic told you sympathetically, grabbing something from her side and injecting it into the IV. “This might make you a bit sleepy, but it should slow your heart rate down.”

It made you really sleepy. Your eyes fluttered shut almost as soon as it hit your bloodstream. You were in and out for the rest of the ambulance ride. Everytime you cracked your eyes open, you were comforted to see Alexia next to you.

Alexia tried not to panic when you dozed off, knowing it was probably for the better that you sleep now, instead of being forced to stay awake through the worst of the side effects from what had occurred.

--------

You awoke slowly, looking around blearily as you came too. There was still an oxygen mask sitting on your face, but your chest didn’t feel as tight as it had before. It was significantly easier to breathe, and though your body still ached, it wasn’t as pronounced.

“Hey, nena.” Alexia cooed, appearing in your line of vision as soon as you moved your hand that was resting in hers. “How are you feeling?”

“I-” you coughed, throat too dry to get any words out. Another face appeared in front of you, and a straw was being pressed to your lips. Ingrid watched you drink the water with great concern, her eyes creased with worry. “I’m okay.”

“You’re sure? You can breathe okay?” Irene asked, a third face leaning down over the bed.

It was getting claustrophobic, and you leaned back a bit. “I can breathe. I’m fine.”

They all seemed to deflate at that, giving relieved sighs and moving back to their respective chairs.

“You scared us, nena.” Irene said quietly.

You nodded, a frown on your face. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“No, elskling, don’t be sorry. That wasn’t your fault, not at all.”

You shrugged, trying to pull your hand away from Alexia’s in order to reach for the water cup in Ingrid’s hand.

“What? What is it? What do you need? I can do it.” Alexia said, leaning forward anxiously and holding your hand tighter in hers.

You gave her a strange look. “I just want the water?”

“I got it!” Ingrid said, once again holding the straw to your lips. All three women watched as you took a sip, and their overbearing concern was beginning to get to you.

“You guys, I’m fine. Relax.”

“No.” Alexia said sternly.

“No?” You echoed.

“No, I will not relax. I will hover if I want to.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching up to scratch at your face. Alexia caught your hand again, as all three women leaned forward.

“What do you need?” They all said, in complete unison.

You sighed, letting Alexia scratch your forehead for you. There was no use arguing. Once your teammates set their minds on being protective, there wasn’t anything you could do to change it.

-------

The rest of the team stopped by throughout the day, with your younger friends coming in only an hour before you were set to be released. They joked around with you, though clearly they were overcome with thinly veiled relief. They were worried, and you understood why.

You were preoccupied, though. Because while every one of your teammates had come to see you, one had yet to speak.

Jana stood in the doorway of the hospital room like coming any closer would set off some kind of alarm. You looked at her, repeatedly, but she refused to meet your gaze, her eyes fixed on her feet.

You exchanged a look with Alexia who was making sure your friends didn’t get too rowdy. The captain tried to engage Jana in conversation for a few minutes, but only got shrugs and one word answers. The room fell into a slightly awkward silence as the tension grew, and all you wanted to do was get out of the stupid hospital bed and pull Jana into a hug. You would settle for her speaking to you, though, and your captain evidently had the same idea.

“Alright. She needs to rest. Everyone out.” Alexia declared, beginning to shoo everyone from the room. She caught Jana’s elbow before she could go, too, though, stopping her from leaving.

Even when the room emptied, and it was just the three of you, Jana refused to raise her head.

“Jana.” Alexia murmured, pulling the defender further into the room. “Come on, cariño.”

The brunette took a deep breath, before she looked up at you, eyes filled with tears. “I am so sorry.”

“Jana, it’s okay.”

“It’s not!” She cried, throwing her hands up in the air, and shaking off the hug Alexia tried to pull her into. “I almost killed you. It is not okay. You almost died and it was my fault.”

“That could have happened to anybody. You could have pushed Ona or Bruna or Cata. It was a freak accident.”

“But it happened to you.” Jana said miserably.

You shook your head, feeling guilty that she felt so guilty. “And I’m fine! Jana, come here.” Alexia half dragged the defender over to the chair next to your bed and you grabbed her hand as soon as she was within reach. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t even know. We were just joking around, like we always do. You didn't do anything wrong, Jana, and I’m not mad.”

She looked up at you, looking so unlike her usual joyful self. “You aren’t mad?”

“No.” You insisted. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. Now we know, and I can push you in front of any incoming bees.”

Jana huffed out a laugh, wiping a stray tear away. Alexia was looking at you proudly, rather touched at how kind you were being to Jana, who was clearly a mess at the moment.

“Can I carry one of your epi pens?” Jana asked.

“Oh my god.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“I am getting one for everyone on the team.” Alexia said seriously, causing you and Jana to giggle even harder. “What?! We have to be prepared!”

You groaned, though you weren’t really upset. How much your teammates cared about you would never really be a bother. It was something you hadn’t really had in your life until you arrived in Barça, and it wasn’t something you’d trade for the world. Even if it came with very frequent teasing, and even more frequent overprotectiveness.

-------

ive been agonizing over this for so long and i strongly dislike it but i hope you guys like it more than i do 🫶🏻🙂

also i have only gone into anaphylaxis once and i was like 6 but this is pretty much what i remember + some help from google.

#barcelona femeni x reader #barça femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine

1K notes · View notes

chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

Text

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐰 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

ʚsmau

ʚlando norris x female reader

ʚnothing better than a little soft launch with your favourite boy around

ʚthis was requested thank you for everyone who is sending in ideas! i love them all!

ʚface claim is cyrielle verstuyft

yninstagram

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, dior and 79,000 others

wedding season & the sweetest little friend🥰

see 7,000 comments

username that dress is everything!!

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous girl😘

>yninstagram says you baby❤️‍🔥

username look at the mini pony 🥹

username lando in the likes..?

landonorris nice😊

>yninstagram thank you 😁

carlossainz55 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

>yninstagram that’s a lot of smiles carlos…

>carlossainz55 what? no it’s a normal amount

>landonorris mate it’s not

>username WHAT IS HAPPENING

landonorris

liked by yninstagram, maxfewtrell, mclaren and 654,000 others

wedding season has begun

see 15,000 comments

username wait a second…

username i swear i saw that pony somewhere

yninstagram nice 😊

>landonorris thank you😁

maxfewtrell you two are insufferable

*comment deleted*

username DID YOU SEE MAX’S COMMENT BEFORE IT DELETED?!

>username I THINK LANDO AND THIS GIRL ARE TOGETHER

mclaren as usually looking dapper mr.norris

danielricciardo 😏😏😏😏

liked by landonorris

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

waggossip

liked by formulagossip, yninstagram, wagnews and 6,700 others

rumoured girlfriend of mclaren formula 1 driver lando norris, y/n y/l/n has been spotted in Monaco for the grand prix this weekend! eagle eyed fans spotted the pairs similar photos at a wedding recently as well as comments between lando’s friends on their posts! all we know is she studies political science and minors in women and gender studies at university in Paris! she also models with pierre gasly’s girlfriend kika!

see 1,500 comments

username she’s so pretty!!

username how do we even know if they are actually together 💀

username lando got himself a girlboss

yninstagram wow you guys are fast😭

>username HEY QUEEN

>username so are the rumours true..?

>yninstagram 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

landonorris

liked by quadrant, yninstagram, charles_leclerc and 876,000 others

monaco baby let’s go 😎

see 67,000 comments

username OH HELLO

username hubba hubba🤤🤤

mclaren oh yeah baby😎

yninstagram wow

>landonorris you okay?

>yninstagram uh huh yeah totally

username y/n in the comments😭

carlossainz55 i think you forgot to shave

>landonorris you think you’re so funny😐

yninstagram

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, maxfewtrell and 100,000 others

monaco i’ve missed you!

see 45,000 comments

username SLAYING

username lando is one lucky ass man tbh

liked by landonorris

landonorris yeah tbh idc anymore she’s all mine

liked by yninstagram

landonorris beautiful baby❤️

>yninstagram i love you silly boy😘

username lando said fuck it she’s mine😭

maxfewtrell well carlos owes me $150 😁

>carlossainz55 yeah yeah

>username cross over of the century 💀💀

francisca.cgomes stunning!!!

>yninstagram love you❤️‍🔥

landonorris added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

landonorris

liked by yninstagram, rebeccadonaldson, apmmonaco and 324,000 others

two types of people at the country club😁

tagged yninstagram

see 56,000 comments

username look at y/n and then lando…HOW

>yninstagram you’d be surprised he’s very charming

>username LANDO HAS RIZZ?

>yninstagram a lot 😁

username is love these two together 😌

yninstagram at least i didn’t get us kicked out

>yninstagram you’re still cute though baby❤️

>landonorris 😁🥰

username lando is the type of person i’d imagine to get kicked out of a country club tbh

yninstagram

liked by landonorris, lilyhme, oscarpiastri81 and 104,000 others

the city of love with my love, nothing better than this ❤️

tagged landonorris

see 32,000 comments

username these photos are so cute 😭

username ‘the city of love with my love’ i think ill cry😭

landonorris i love you so much

landonorris my favourite girl in the world ❤️

>yninstagram you’re my favourite boy in the world🥰

lilyhme okay i’m obsessed with you

>yninstagram wanna go out?

>lilyhme um yes!!!😍

>alexalbon HUH

>landonorris😃😃😃😃

*why are smau’s so hard for me now 😭😭 someone give me a new brain*

1K notes · View notes

golden-moony · 7 months ago

Text

king of my heart | pt. 2

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader

warnings: love triangle? kinda.

author's note: go get some popcorn cause we have some drama here🍿... and it's a long part, so enjoy!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

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

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, frosenqvist, and 79,121 others!

yourusername Miami GP over and out ✅🏁 No words could ever explain just how grateful I am for all of you and for the opportunity that I get to cover this amazing sport with such incredible people by my side. Thank you for everything Miami, I hope to see you again soon! 🌴💖

user1 the power she holds 🙌

user2 she's really living my dream 🥹

lissiemackintosh so happy to be able to share this with you!! love u❤️

yourusername we really need to do this more often😘 love u too! user3 y/n and lissie hosting track tv together is my new roman empire fr user4 SLAY QUEENS!! user5 the queens are thriving user6 i wanna be friends with them so bad 😫

user7 omg girl you're STUNNING

user8 BEST F1 WAG

user9 facts facts facts user10 she's not even a wag lol it's so obvious lando just keeps this nobody around for when he's bored and horny user11 user10 this "nobody" has done SO much in terms of women representation in motorsport, she's hardworking and a lovely woman. meanwhile, you're just a sad little person who's jealous of her because she's successful and close to your crush, who doesn't even know who you are. so get a life and stop embarrassing yourself. user12 user11 SAY IT LOUDER 👏 user13 user11 PREACH!!!

user14 i don't know if i wanna be her or be with her😩

user15 this is such a mood tbh

landonorris so proud of you, boo😍

yourusername 🥰🧡 user16 YNLANDO NATION WE WON user17 we love a supporting boyfriend 🤩 user18 i want what they have, your honor user19 is this considered a soft launch or what? user20 y'all are delulu😂 it's so obvious they're just friends user21 user20 girl being delulu is the solulu 🙌

user22 so when are we gonna talk about felix liking the post?

user23 i'm lost sorry, who's felix? user24 user23 he's pato's teammate in indycar and one of his besties user25 if felix liked then WHERE'S PATO user26 user25 doing more important things than being focused on this girl.

lilymhe such a pretty girl 💗

alex_albon should i be jealous? yourusername you should indeed. can u fight? user24 the friendship i didn't know i needed 🥹 user25 MY FAV WAGS INTERACTING YAY

user26 f1 is so lucky to have you!!!

user27 LOOOL why would they be lucky to have her?😂😂😂 she's nothing special user28 user27 and yet she's still rising 💅 user29 user27 then why are you even on her post? lol obsessed much?

user30 my role model ❤️‍🩹

📞 incoming call

[y/n; normal] [pato; cursive]

"...Hello? Did you butt-dialed me or something?"

"Uhm, hi. It's not a butt-dial. I-I actually just wanted to talk to you. Hear your voice, y'know. I've been kinda missing you."

"Oh really? And here I was thinking that your cold behavior toward me over the past three weeks meant that you didn't want anything to do with me. Silly me, I guess."

"I-I'm... [sighs]. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. About the way I've been treating you. I'm sorry, y/n. I really am sorry. I know I've been a total jerk-"

"Yeah, you can put it that way."

"...I've been a total jerk and I regret it very much. You didn't deserve it at all. I just- I'm not trying to excuse my awful behavior but I just think I got- Uhm..."

"You got what?"

"Well... I saw Lando's instagram story when you went back to Monaco, as you've probably already figured it out. And I think- Well... I got jealous. And I know it probably sounds stupid now but at the time it felt like a punch in the face."

"Pato..."

"I know I didn't and still have absolutely no business to be jealous about you and Lando, cause you and I are not dating or anything and you don't owe me any kind of explanation about the type of relationship you have with him. But after the great time we spend together in Long Beach... I don't know, it just hurted seeing you with him. But that doesn't excuse anything and I just regret so much the way I've been treating you since then, it hasn't been fair to you at all."

"And it didn't cross your mind that we could have had this conversation way before now? I mean, you waited three weeks to finally talk to me like a decent human being, how-"

"I know and I'm so-"

"Let me finish."

"Sorry, go on."

"However, I do appreciate that you're finally acknowledging all of this and communicating with me like an actual adult. I know it's not always easy to do. And although I don't owe you any kind of explanation, I just want you to know that there's nothing going on between Lando and me."

"So you and him...?"

"We're friends and that's it. We care for each other but there's nothing going on."

"Oh... well, thanks for clarifying that for me."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll have to work harder for my forgiveness, anyway. I appreciate the call but it won't be that easy for you."

"Is that so?"

"You've heard me."

"In that case, what would you say if I invite you for a few days to come here to Punta Mita? Maybe that'll help me a little to earn your forgiveness."

"... I'm sorry, what!?"

"You've heard me."

"You're joking. You have to be joking."

"I'm not joking. You're still in Miami, right?"

"I am..."

"Great! My brother in law is in Miami too and he'll take the jet tomorrow morning. If you want to, you can join him and come here with him! We'd be thrilled to have you here too."

"Oh my God... Pato, I don't know what to say!"

"Say yes and you'd make this birthday boy the happiest man in the world. You'd even make my sister happy, I've been telling her a lot about you and now she's eager to meet you."

"I hope you've been telling her good things about me, then."

"Only the best. She's even on your side, y'know. Said I was being a giant cabrón and needed to make things right. She wasn't wrong tho."

"[giggles] Fine. I'll go, but I'm only doing this for your sister."

"I'll take that anyway! I'll let Brett know you'll join him and I'll send you the details, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Now go and pack your bags for tomorrow."

"Hey! Don't get bosy with me, mister!"

"[Laughs] Fine. Take care, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you, birthday boy!"

patriciooward posted to his story!

[caption 1; 🦈] [caption 2; beautiful views]

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; para-para-paradise 🌞] [caption 2; in his sharkboy era] [caption 3; 🐶❤️]

paddockgossips

liked by magui_corceiro and 84,091 others!

paddockgossips Among the alleged "breakup" between y/n and Lando, the McLaren driver was photographed last night having fun in a Monaco club in the company of Max Fewtrell and other friends. Some sources have said that Lando seemed very cozy with a blonde woman at the party, whom he later left with. However, we cannot verify this information in any way, so it remains a rumor.

user1 I HAVE A CHANCE AGAIN (i'm delulu)

user2 so this confirms ynlando is over?? 😭

user3 girl i'm devastated 😭😭😭 user4 i'm still in denial user5 well they were never together to begin with user6 user5 THIS!! people act like they were a couple when they NEVER confirmed anything 😂

user7 "blonde woman at the party" "it remains a rumor" and magui goes and like the post LOL

user8 she's so desperate for attention🙄 user9 who's magui??? user10 user9 she's kika's friend and she was dating football player João Félix not so long ago (in fact, i thought they were still together lol) user11 user10 and don't forget she's a cheater. user12 user9 she's trouble

user13 yn >>>>>>>> magui

user14 user13 no need to compare them

user15 sorry but single lando it's so hot 🥵

user16 SO TRUE user17 FACTS he looks so good omfg

user18 in his heartbreaker era 😎

user19 in his reputation era 😎 user20 in his idgaf era 😎

user21 i'm a child of divorce fr

user22 i know y'all love y/n for some reason but i'm SO glad lando finally got away from her.

user23 SAME. and if magui makes him happy then great for him user24 stfu i'm mourning here

user25 y/n this magui that but max was, is and will forever be lando's true wag💅

user26 the one and only indeed

elbaoward posted to her story!

[caption1; off to dinner] [caption2; my love🤍] [caption 3; lovebirds!]

patriciooward

liked by landonorris, yourusername, brettkimbro, and 86,382 others!

patriciooward BDAY WKND DUMP 📸 thank y'all for all the love❤️‍🔥

user1 THE HARD LAUNCH IT'S HARD LAUNCHING

user2 OMG IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CAAAAALM

user3 he really said i'll give you what you want: thrist traps and y/n... and he's so real for that

user4 he really knows his audience user5 king behavior if u ask me user6 everybody say thank you Pato 🙏

user7 YNPATO NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING??

user8 I'M STILL SPEECHLESS user9 they're so perfect i wanna cry😭 user10 LOVE TO SEE🔥

user11 as a ynlando shipper i have to admit they're cute but ngl this still hurts 😩

user12 MOOD user13 ynlando will always be in our hearts 🥺 user14 ynlando >>>>>>>>>> ynpato user15 user13 girl grow up.

user16 THAT SHOULD BE ME

elbaoward where are my credits for the last pic? cuties🤍

user17 u literally gave us the cutest pic ever user18 elba thank you so much for your service🫡 user19 elba is ynpato's #1 fan and you can't tell me otherwise user20 elba is just like us fr user21 LOVE YOU ELBAAAAA 🩷

user22 MOM AND DAD

user23 can't believe how fast she moved on and got together with this dude lol lando really dodged a bullet with her

user24 how fast she moved on?? girl y/n and lando were never even together so stfu user25 ???? why are you even on pato's ig post? go away user26 user23 y/n is such an attention seeker and yet everyone loves her, i'll never understand it 🥱

user27 not to be that person but i would KILL to be that piñata😏

user28 MOOD

frosenqvist oh to be tanned, young and in love

patriciooward 😜 user29 IN LOVE??? FELIX BESTIE TELL US MORE user30 i don't know about y'all but this is all the confirmation i need about ynpato being real, bye user31 i think i can hear the wedding bells user32 user31 yesss and felix as pato's best man

user33 bestie don't be shy and drop more y/n pics 🫶

user34 i second the motion !!!

user35 NOT LANDO LIKING THE POST LOOOOL

user36 he is so unserious i love him user37 ICONIC BEHAVIOR TBH user38 yeah but i just know he's crying inside user39 user38 for what? lol lando knows he's so much better than this cheaper version of him. user40 user39 i'm so done with people like you who insult pato just because you cannot defend lando with good arguments.

yourusername magical weekend 💖

patriciooward with you there? always user41 STOP THEY'RE SO CUTE OMG user42 this is such an upgrade tbh user43 SO HAPPY FOR THEM 🥹 user44 what a bitch.

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; back to reality✈️] [caption 2; I'm a high performance athlete. Athletes sweat. Sweat, baby] [caption 3; cutest model🧡]

paddockgossips

liked by magui_corceiro and 53,237 other people!

paddockgossips NEW WAG ALERT? 🚨 Magui Corceiro, the Portuguese model and actress, attended the Monaco GP after being seen a few days ago having lunch with Lando. It has been rumored that they could be in a relationship, especially since Lando and y/n apparently went different ways, and Corceiro's presence in the paddock has not gone unnoticed by anyone. Still, neither Lando nor Magui have confirmed or denied these rumors.

user1 A TRIGGER WARNING WOULD BE NICE NEXT TIME

user2 um let's hope there isn't a next time user3 user2 let's pray girl, let's pray 🙏

user4 "neither lando nor magui have confirmed or denied these rumors" well that's bs cause she just liked the post

user5 istg she's trying so hard to get attention user6 lando was asked about magui and he said she was just a friend... and then she goes and does this lol what a clout chaser user7 and people used to say that y/n was after lando's fame and yet she NEVER did anything like this user8 she's such a pick me girl

user9 everything i know of this girl has been against my will istg

user10 SAME

user11 oh good luck lando

user12 oh be prepared for the y/n fans and little girls that'll come attack magui when she hasn't even done anything wrong

user13 literally they're just mad at magui cause she's dating their fav driver loool user14 they're only jealous cause magui is a gorgeous woman user15 user14 she's gorgeous but she's still a snake

user16 i'd ask why lando would be with someone like her, but then i remember he's an adult and if he wants someone like her by his side then that's up to him. let's not treat him like a baby please

user17 say👏 it👏 louder👏

user18 weeeeell if this is the kind of people lando likes to have around then i guess y/n really dodged a bullet with him

user19 FACTS user20 i mean at the end of the day he's just another privileged white boy, so🤷‍♀️ user21 i really don't get all the hate that she's getting, is she really that problematic? user22 user21 girl google it yourself but yeah, she is

user23 I MISS MY GIRL Y/N WHERE IS SHEEEEEEEE??

user24 what is she even doing there?

user25 must be cause lando wanted her to be there user26 why y'all never asked the same thing about y/n? y'all are such hypocrites istg user27 user26 cause y/n was actually doing her job????? user28 user26 oh you're stupid 😂😂

user29 magui in the paddock, pato not being able to finish Indy 500... it really is a shitty day huh

user30 DON'T EVEN REMIND ME WHAT HAPPENED WITH PATO OMFG user31 I'M STILL SO MAD ABOUT PATO user32 the only good part is that y/n and his family were there for him ❤️‍🩹

see y'all in part 3!

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65

(if you'd like to be tagged in the next part, just let me know in the comments!🧡)

621 notes · View notes

love-belle · 1 year ago

Text

the love of our lives !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they come back after almost a year with a pretty big announcement.

for when you get everything you have prayed for. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hey!!! i hope u like this one, the amount of love i received on my charles' one is overwhelming and im so grateful for it and for each and every one of you. i love you, thank you. requests are open at the moment!!!

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 892,718 others

yourusername our best kept secret for about a little bit over a year and we couldn't wait to share it with you anymore!!!

atlas kian y/l/n-ricciardo ❤️ the love of mine and dan's lives

tagged danielricciardo

8,728 comments

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-> yourusername the same question i ask myself everyday

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 858,926 others

danielricciardo thank u to y/n for making me a dilf, not just in theory but in practice. i owe u one.

tagged yourusername

8,692 comments

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#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo blurb #social media au #fake instagram imagines #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au

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moody-alcoholic · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 1 - The Job.

I just don't know when to stop, if I don't have like 20 projects going at once I get bored. I waited until I had a name though, no longer will I be titling everything 'untitled XYZ fic. It was actually my fiancée who came up with the name.

Work summary: 141 retired and decided to open a delivery company. Only it's not a delivery company, it's a cover for less legal practices. Need a creepy stalker out your life? Someone owes you money? You need to disappear to a new life? Special Delivery Service has got you covered, for a reasonable fee.

Chapter Summary: 5.5k words, Simon x reader, female reader, name used: Dani (this is just personal preference, I don't like using Y/N.) You accept a job offer to work as an office admin for a commercial delivery company. Only the job is not quite as it seems and you come to learn neither are the people you work for.

CW: mentions of abusive ex, alcohol, language, flashbacks of domestic abuse.

masterlist - next

AO3 link

Enjoy <3

You see the job listing towards the bottom of the page:

Office admin wanted! To start immediately. MUST have a background in logistics. Send CV to: [email protected] Competitive salary.

It was short, sweet, to the point and the most promising job posting you had seen all day. You had a background in logistics, you’d just spent the last 3 years working as a supply chain manager. Mainly it was just organising warehouse deliveries but it was experience none the less. You copy the e-mail and send the CV, with a job posting like this you didn’t expect to hear a response back for a few days.

It was already 8pm you’d been applying for jobs all day. You decided to give up for tonight, the sofa and the TV were calling you. You head into the kitchen rummaging through the fridge to see what sad meal you would cook up tonight. You pull out a box of Chinese leftovers, they still smell good. You tip them on a plate throwing it in the microwave as you pour yourself a glass of wine. Turning the TV on channel surfing when your phone starts ringing, you go to pick it up. It’s not a number you know but you swallow your nerves accepting it in case it’s about a job.

“Hello?” You say.

“Hello is this Dani” A male voice comes through the other end.

“Yeah,” You reply feeling nervous all of a sudden, you sip the wine.

“You applied for the office admin job?” The voice says back. You have to think for a second, he can’t mean the job you literally applied for less then 10 minutes ago. You look back over at the laptop screen the e-mail still open.

“Hello?” the voice says.

“Yes, sorry yeah, wow I didn’t expect to hear back so quickly.”

“Yeah, we need someone to start immediately, can you come down for an interview tomorrow?”

“Sure what time?” You ask, you need this job, you need to get back on your feet.

“I’ll message you the time, and the address.” He says, you hear noise in the background sounds like a door slamming.

“Thank you,” you say as you hear the microwave beep.

“No problem, see you tomorrow.” He says and hangs up the phone. You take your food out the microwave and flop down on the sofa tuning into whatever soap was playing on the TV. You’re halfway through your food when you get a text with the address and a time. 10am. You copy the address and put it into google, now is a better time then ever to find out about this company. Special Delivery Service, SDS, you don’t know why that makes you chuckle, it makes you think of DFS, the sofa company. The address is close by only a few streets actually, you could walk there in about 20 minutes, that’s convenient at least. From the looks of the website it’s a commercial delivery company. ‘Discretion is our specialty’ it says as you continue reading, there is not much info just how to contact them for a quote. The pictures are mainly stock images bar the logo.

You’d never heard of them before but it’s not exactly like you’re in the market for commercial deliveries, it has good ratings though, that means something. You throw the phone to the side turning back to the TV. This was good, this is a good start it’s what you need to move on, maybe even a fresh start. It feels like the right time, newly out of toxic relationship, made redundant, all in less then a month.

Maybe you could use a nice change of pace, or maybe you would go to the interview tomorrow and it will be a complete waste of time. Either way it’s a step in the right direction and at least your mum will be happy you’ve found a job, you’re pretty sure she was dreading the thought of having to financially support you until you were back on your feet. Now you were definitely hoping the interview would will go well, the thought of having to rely on your mother to support you was the worst. You would rather ask your ex, Lord knows he owes you one. You finish the food and lounge around watching TV until you start to dose off. You peal yourself off the couch heading into bed, a good nights rest will do you good, besides you want to make a good impression tomorrow.

——————————

You get to the building early, it’s sunny weather for once and you can see the large doors to the building flung open. You peak in and see delivery vans, the whole place looks like it was an ex-mechanic shop. A figure catches the corner of your eye, he’s talking to another man walking across the floor, you can’t hear what they’re saying but the shorter man seems enthusiastic about something. Before you can get a better look they disappear out of your line of sight. You look over to what you assume is the customer entrance, and walk in. There is a man sat behind the counter, he seems distracted by something angrily typing on a computer. He sighs as you reach the desk, his eyes flicking up to you, he scoots back in the chair.

“How can I help?” He asks, his demeanour changing, he’s got a nice smile.

“I’m here for an interview,” You say suddenly feeling nervous. He nods getting up.

“Yeah of course, come through.” He says opening a hidden door in the counter and you walk though. He leads you through to the main room it still smells of fuel, this place definitely used to be a mechanic shop, you can see the covered up pits on the floor where they would access under the cars.

Your attention is drawn to the sound of laughing and you see the two men from earlier stood round a coffee machine. The taller man has his back turned to you while the shorter man is chuckling, hitting the taller man on the back. His eyes move to you, he’s fit, well built, tanned skin, he runs his hand through his slick mohawk, you could have swore he just winked at you. You turn your attention back to the man leading you as you reach a metal staircase.

The second floor-if you can even call it that-is furnished with sofa’s and a kitchenette, you can see a dart board and what looks like a pool table. Looks like a cool place to hangout. You feel bad for not asking the man his name as he leads you an office door. He knocks and you both wait.

“Come in!” a voice calls, you think you recognise it, its the same person you spoke to on the phone yesterday. The door opens and you walk in. You look at the man sat behind the desk, he looks older then the other people you’ve seen, his beard makes him look older then you suspect for some reason, you can see the bags under his eyes like he could do with long nap.

“Thanks Kyle,” He says as you walk in. Okay, his name was Kyle you’d have to remember that. He nods leaving the room closing the door behind you. The man behind the desk gets up as you walk over to him. He comes round putting his hand out for you to shake it.

“John Price,” he says as he nods at you smiling. You nod back.

“Sit please, coffee? Tea?” He gestures to the chair and walks back round the desk.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You look up at him smiling as you sit down. His office walls are massive windows looking down on the room below you can see people moving around now opening the back of the vans. You look back up at him as he takes a paper in his hand.

“3 years as a supply chain manager, studied business in college, pretty impressive.” He says putting the paper back down.

“Thank you,” you say, not that it’s really that impressive the only reason you did a business course was to make your parents happy. You had no idea what you wanted to do when you finished secondary school.

“So do you have any experience in warehouse management?” He asks leaning forward on the desk.

“Well at my last job towards the end, there was a lot of inventory organisation and I was pretty much left in charge of clearing the whole place out before the business went under.” You say, you’re not sure if that’s what he’s expecting, to be honest with the little research you managed to do and the vague job posting you were not sure what to expect.

“The jobs pretty simple. There are three main aspects, the first is the most important; the clients send us a list of good they need transporting, it’ll be your job to assign it to a driver then create the invoices, paperwork, the system is already pretty automatic. A lot of it is just data entry if I’m being honest.” You smile at him as he continues, so far it seems like a pretty easy job.

“The second part is when a client sends a special request, the system is not set up to handle them yet so they can come through as errors, with just an e-mail address attached. If you can assign them to someone great if not forward them on to me. The system will let you know if a driver has available delivery slots.” You nod as he finishes, you could handle this, data entry, assigning jobs to people, easy.

“Sounds good so far.” You reply. He nods.

“The last part is just your general office admin work, you’ll man the front desk, answer the phone, the boys will tell you if they need supplies ordering that kind of stuff. The hours are standard 9 to 5, 5 days a week, we’re closed Saturday Sunday.” He says spinning round in his chair and taking some paper from the printer.

“I live close by actually it’s really convenient.” You say.

“That’s nice, if you want the job I have a contract ready, you can start tomorrow then you’ll have the weekend off.” He says spinning back round straightening the paper out. That’s sudden, the job did say start immediately though, and you really need this job.

“Of course, that’s great.” You say smiling, hoping he can’t see your hesitation. He pushes the stack of papers towards you, you flick through the first few pages of standard workers rights.

“You’ll get 2 weeks paid vacation a year, sick leave and maternity leave should you need it kick in after a month of probation.” He explains, pretty standard. You flick through it to the end page with the salary break down. Holy shit!

“The job requires a certain level of…Discretion.” He explains. “You’re compensated for the inconvenience.”

“What like I can’t tell people were I work?” You ask confused. He looks at you like he’s trying to think of what to say.

“We have clients who expect their information to be handled, appropriately. On top of that some of your colleagues like to keep their work and home life separate.” He says eventually, you frown. That’s strange and he didn’t answer your question. You nod like you understand though, regardless you’ll take the 'hush money.' Especially since you’ll be making more then you’ve never made for what is basically a data entry job, and maybe having to answer the phone a few times. It almost seems to good to be true. You skim over the rest of the legal jargon and company rules.

“Any questions?” He asks as you pick up a pen, you shake your head and sign both pieces of the paper, then hand it to him. He smiles signing it too and ripping off one of the pages handing it back to you.

“One last thing.” He says hesitating for a second. “Do you have a criminal record?”

“No,” you shake your head. He stands nodding and you get up too, as he walks round the desk, heading for the door to his office and you follow him.

“I’ll get one of the boys to show you round before you leave.” He says opening the door.

“MacTavish!” He calls as you follow him out the room. You watch as a man appears at the bottom of the steps, it’s the guy from earlier who was laughing. He’s defiantly good looking there’s no denying it.

“Come show our new recruit around.” He nods coming up the stairs.

“If you have any questions let me know and I’ll e-mail you a full copy of your contract.” John says as he puts his hand out and you shake it.

“I will thank you,” you smile and he heads back into his office.

“John MacTavish!” The man says extending his hand out to you, he’s got an accent for a second you look at him confused.

“Another John?” You ask as you shake his hand.

“Aye, most people call me Johnny though.” He winks. Now you’re sure he winked at you earlier. He walks round you over to the sofa’s and the pool table.

“This is where we chill out between deliveries, or just in general. Do you play?” He asks pointing at the pool table.

“Once or twice, at the pub.” You say. You’re still trying to pin his accent, Welsh or Scottish? You’re too embarrassed to ask. He comes back over to you and you see he’s walking with a limp, it’s especially obvious as you follow him down the steps and he has to grip the banister for support.

“This is were we load the vans up with anything we need, toilets over there and next to them is the store room.” He says pointing to the rooms directly under the upstairs office. There are metal shelves filled with all different kinds of things from basic office supplies to what looks like medical equipment and machinery. The store room door is the only door you’ve seen with a key-code lock on it, makes sense. There is a long table surrounded by chairs and a projector against a far wall. You look over to see another man sat at the table typing on a laptop.

“This is Simon, Simon Riley.” Johnny says as he takes you over. He’s wearing a hoodie pulled over his head and a black surgical mask. Maybe he’s a clean freak? Or maybe this was what John meant by ‘Your colleagues like to keep their work and home life separate.’ You extend your hand out too him as you approach.

“Nice to meet you.” You say, he looks up at you for a second. His eyes are beautiful, a dark caramel, thick eyebrows and you can see strands of blonde hair peaking out from under his hood. He shakes your hand, his grip is firm, you swallow hard. He’s giving off a different vibe then the rest of the people you’ve met so far, you almost want to run away from him.

“Don’t worry about him he’s always grumpy in the morning.” Johnny says leaning into your ear. Simon rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to typing on the laptop. John, Johnny, Simon and Kyle, you repeat the names in your head so they’re burned into your memory. Johnny continues his tour showing you round the main floor, you were right as he explained the building used to be a mechanics until they took it over. Before that it was an abandoned munitions processing plant from the second world war. The building did look old, stylish red brick, huge arched windows that let in a lot of natural light. The doors were even old on rollers, thick and wooden. The more you looked around the more it reminded you of the old workhouses you’d seen in history books. Johnny leads you through to the lobby, the only part of the building that seems to have been renovated in the last 10 years.

“This is Kyle Garrick, we call him Gaz.” Johnny says as Kyle stands up and you shake his hand. He’s fit too, dark skinned, short hair and he’s got a lovely smile, London accent you can tell he’s local too.

“This will be where you work.” Johnny says pulling the chair out.

“I’m sure Price will give you the rundown tomorrow on how the system works, we’re still working on getting it up and running properly.” Johnny says enthusiastically. You nod looking round at the desk, there is a large printer/photocopier in the corner and a plant that looks like it’s seen better days. At least the computer is up to date and honestly you can work with this.

“So nervous for your first day?” Johnny asks as Kyle sits back down.

“Not really.” You say smiling.

“Good lass, that’s what we like to hear!” Johnny says patting you on the shoulder. Scottish, definitely Scottish. Kyle chuckles as he goes back to typing on the computer. You feel like now is the best time to take your leave. You thank Johnny and tell them both you’ll see them tomorrow.

“Wait a second lass, here.” Johnny reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a business card.

“Any questions drop me a message.” He smiles. You nod pocketing the card and heading out. You look back at the building as you leave seeing Johnny wave, you wave back awkwardly. Why would anyone care about keeping there home and work life separate when you work for a simple delivery company? You think back to Simon with the mask, maybe he’s just hygienic? Regardless it was a good job, close to home and good pay. You wouldn’t have to rely on your mum or your ex to get you through the month. At least that was a weight off your shoulders.

——————————

Later that evening your mother calls.

“Hey mum.” You say as you reluctantly pick up the call, not really feeling in the mood for her energetic energy, especially after Johnny’s enthusiastic tour.

“Hey sweetie! I was just thinking about you today and I thought I would call to tell you, Anne from church has a job opening at her son’s restaurant. You know Chris? He works at that nice Italian place, well I said you were looking for a job and Anne said she would put in a good word.” You sigh as you let your mother talk.

“It’s okay mum I got a job today actually. I went for an interview and they offered me the job on the spot.” You say.

“Oh sweetie that’s amazing where is it?” She asks, you pause, maybe telling your over sharing mother about a job you were warned required discretion was not the best idea.

“It’s just a small firm in the city centre, they were looking for a logistical analyst.” You say lying through your teeth.

“Oh well that sounds fancy, I hope it pays well if you’ll have to be trudging into the centre of London everyday.” You hear her chuckle.

“It does mum don’t worry, I start tomorrow actually.”

“That’s fantastic, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks mum.” You say smiling. There’s a pause on the line.

“Have you spoken to Joe?” She asks, you sigh.

“No mother I have not spoken to him since we broke up.” You reply bitterly wanting to end the conversation now.

“He’s been asking about you, you blocked him or ignored him or something but sweetie I think you should talk to him he misses you.” You sigh, of course he’s turned on your mum, your sweet mother who couldn’t hurt a fly and always sees the best in people. Even toxic abusers.

“I’ll think about it mum, look I have to go I have an early start tomorrow.” You say.

“Okay well get a good rest and good luck for tomorrow I love you.” She says.

“I love you too,” you reply and hang up.

That night you dream of your ex. You’re still with him trapped in the cycle of wake, make him happy, work, make him happy, sleep, repeat. The verbal abuse, the physical abuse, the days he would lock you in the bathroom for hours on end.

You took the lock off the door when he moved out. You’re not sure why it just felt like the right thing to do. You bought a deadbolt for the front door and no longer sleep with the windows open, fearing he could scale the apartment building to get to you. That’s what he does in your dreams, he gets around all the precautions you put in place. You dream of him being in your space, questioning everything you do, insisting on checking your phone and e-mails, even your work ones. Anytime a male’s name came up he would grill you about it for hours, no matter what you said it always felt like he never believed you. But then he would make you feel good, take you to the bedroom and treat you like a princess and it was like he was a different person.

‘He’s just protective sweetie’ your mother says. ‘He loves you.’ The bruises on your arm would say otherwise, wearing turtle necks in summer became your fashion statement for at least a year. ‘He probably doesn’t mean it have you tried talking to him?’ Your brother was no better, to busy with uni to care, too much of a mans man to understand. He’s gone now though and that’s what you have to remember, it’s easier said then done.

——————————

The next morning you show up early. Your body feels heavy after the restless night. You walk in seeing John bent over Kyle’s shoulder as their looking at something on the computer behind the counter.

“Hey, maybe you can figure this out, we’ve been trying to get these documents to copy over and it’s just not working.” Price says as he steps back you walk round watching Kyle trying to drag and drop a file into a folder. An administrative error pops up.

“Mind if I?” You gesture for Kyle to move he holds his hands up rolling away on the chair as you try again. You’re not the most competent with computers but you could probably figure it out. You try compressing the file first then moving it and it works.

“What did you do?” Kyle asks.

“I think the file was too big so I compressed it, do you need it sent in an e-mail?” You ask looking at John.

“Yes please if you don’t mind.” You nod.

“Coffee?” Kyle asks as he gets up out the seat heading into the main building.

“Yes please.” You say turning to smile at him and pulling the chair over so you can sit down. Price explains how everything works as you get situated. He shows you the documents on the computer for how to answer the phone, and deal with walk in requests. The ‘system’ they have set up for assigning deliveries is basically just a glorified spreadsheet which is good, you can work with that it’s not too far out of your comfort zone.

“If you have any questions just call, there is a direct line to my office if you press 1 on the phone.” You nod trying to take it all in as Kyle comes back with a cup of coffee.

“I didn’t know how you took it so I just did milk.” He says.

“That’s fine thank you.” You reply, as he places it next to you. Then heads back. John tells you again to ask if you need anything then also leaves you too it. You’re looking through the computer making sure you defiantly understand everything when Simon and Johnny walk in.

“Morning,” you say to them smiling.

“Morning lass, guess we didn’t scare you away yesterday!” Johnny beams, he seems to have too much energy especially compered to Simon who is still sporting his hoodie and mask combo. His eyes lock onto you as he walks through the lobby, his glare sending shivers down your spine. In a strange way, you’re not scared of him, more intrigued. He walks through the counter to the main floor without saying anything.

“Sorry, he’s a rude bastard when he hasn’t had a coffee yet.” Johnny says.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. You look through the window into the main floor watching Gaz open the large garage doors out to the street.

“Hey, if we’re both around at 12 want to get lunch together? I know this great sandwich place down the road my treat!” Johnny says. You nod, he really has a way of putting you at ease with his palpable bubbly energy.

“Right, I’ll see ya then lass,” he says and he heads through.

The morning goes quick or maybe it’s because everything feels so new and foreign that it takes you a lot of concentration to make sure you’re doing it right. Before you even try to do anything you’re already calling John in his office about the names, instead of it being Johnny, Simon and Kyle, it’s Gaz, Soap and Ghost. Gaz you remember but the other two it’s a 50/50. John laughs and tells you Soap is Johnny and Ghost is Simon.

Each time you give them a job they stick their heads round the door to pick up the invoice, you try to make it a habit of printing it out as soon as you assign the job, so it’s ready when they come in. You purposely give Simon a job over lunch so Johnny is free, it’s a little cheeky for your first day but you wouldn’t mind spending more time with Johnny.

When lunch comes around Johnny shows you how to set the phone to go to Price’s office and you both leave. The shop is right round the corner but by this time of the day it’s packed with people on their lunch break, you order your sandwiches to go and head back to work to eat them there. You’re both sat upstairs in on the sofa’s, it is nice up here and you can see down to the floor below you gives you something to watch while you eat.

“How’s your first day been so far then?” Johnny asks.

“Fine, it’s just getting used to the system that might take a while.” You confess.

“Yeah, you’re doing great though, my jobs have been smooth and easy all day.” He says. You nod.

“So how did you all meet?” You ask.

“Now that’s a story!” He says sitting up in his chair.

“We were all military together, SAS.” He says. That explains the company name Special Delivery Service, you chuckle it’s cute, funny now you get it.

“Why’d you quit?” You ask.

“Our time was up we chose not to re-enlist, it was Simon’s idea to start a delivery company, something easy we could do in retirement.” He says smiling at your interest.

“Did you ever kill anyone?” You ask, but then immediately regret it, you don’t know if that’s an appropriate question to ask. Johnny just laughs.

“Someone's got to deal with the bad guys.” He says winking.

“Don’t mean they didn’t fight back. Got a nice fucked up knee to show for it.” Johnny says slapping his left leg. That explains the limp he always has when hes walking.

“Has John always been your boss?” You ask moving it away from killing people and being shot.

“Price, yeah he was our captain, it just felt right letting him continue to tell us what to do.” Johnny explains, chuckling. You nod listening to him talk about their life in the military, he’s careful not to go too into specifics, but enough for you to understand it seemed like it was quite a dangerous job. Johnny mentioned something about bombs at one point, that’s scary.

“I bet you travelled a lot though?” You ask finishing your sandwich.

“Oh yeah! That was one of the perks I guess, been all over the place, met some great people.” Johnny says naming a bunch of countries off. You watch as Simon comes back reversing the van into the bay. He jumps out and heads straight into the store room. That reminded you you needed to ask for the code. Johnny gets up checking his watch and throwing his trash in the bin.

“Got a delivery to make, I’ll see you later.” He says heading to the stairs. You nod smiling. When you’re done you knock on John’s door before you head downstairs.

“Come in!” He calls. You go in, for some reason you get this feeling like you’re back at school walking into a teachers office about to ask them for the key to the storage room to get more paper.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks smiling, it almost immediately puts you at ease.

“Good, I was just wondering, the store room, Johnny showed me yesterday but he didn’t give me the code.” You explain. Price nods his head.

“You don’t need the code, it’s for the drivers only, it’s where we keep, sensitive equipment.” He explains. You nod feeling heat rush to your cheeks, maybe you should have asked Johnny instead saved yourself the embarrassment of this conversation.

“Got it, thank you.” You nod leaving the room and closing the door behind you. What kind of sensitive equipment? You hadn’t seen anyone moving anything in or out of there, and you’re pretty sure you saw Simon go in empty handed just now. You’re just more curious then ever. You look down the steps at Simon making his way up with a mug of tea in his hand. You wait until he has reached the top of the stairs before heading down. You smile at him, you can’t tell if he’s smiling back with the mask but you’re assuming he’s not. You make your way back down as he walks into John’s office without knocking.

The rest of the day seems to go by slower, your mind obsessing over the store room for some reason. It’s like an itch you need to scratch, you find yourself looking over to check it now and again. You get a few of those ‘special request’s’ John warned you about, you try to assign them but it doesn’t work. Clearly the system does not like it so you send them off to John. It’s almost like they’re encrypted, maybe you could figure out how to fix it and stop the system from freezing up every time it happens, a task for next week you think.

Jobs stop coming through around 3 and you spend the last few hours of your shift catching up on the other part of your admin job, then you find yourself cleaning the coffee machine. Johnny and Gaz leave early, apparently this is normal for Friday, you wish them a good weekend as they leave going out the vehicle entrance closing the garage doors behind them. You head to use the bathroom next, as you’re washing your hands you hear the door of the store room beep open and the sound of feet running in and out. You hear it open but you don’t hear it close.

You hold your breath, could it be? It’s open. You’re excited for some reason. You quickly slip out cracking the door. Sure enough the door didn’t fully close it’s stuck on the latch. Your curiosity gets the better of you, you can’t help it. You look round quickly, you don’t see anyone, you don’t hear anyone. You push the door open, it’s dark you can’t see inside. You take a step in and an automatic light flicks on. You gasp as you look around the room. It’s way bigger then you expected, so big there is enough room for a table in the middle. Each part of the wall is covered in weapons, knifes, somethings you don’t even know what they would be but they look scary.

The hairs are standing up on the back of your neck, it’s almost like your fight or flight has kicked in as your eyes widen. There are crates everywhere some open with what look like boxes of ammo. You let out a breath feeling fear rise in you, maybe it was airsoft? You move to look in one of the crates near the entrance. Nope those are real bullets. You shouldn’t have seen this you feel panic rising. This is bad and very illegal. You start to back out the room, slowly you’re trying to be as quiet as possible. Your body hits something, not something someone. You hear a sigh.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” It’s Simon. You slowly turn his head is tilted to the side his brow creased as his gaze burns into you. Fuck.

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charminglyantiquated · 2 months ago

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9/25 update on the Nautilus, for anyone curious. Details below (long), but in summary: the damage is more expensive than we'd hoped. We will have to buy Nautilus back as salvage and repair her mostly out of pocket. We still do intend to repair her, but it seems now it will be over a timeline of several years. The fundraiser for her repairs has been raised to reflect the new estimate, and will remain up as long as we're working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute. I'm so unbelievably, profoundly grateful to all of you who have helped us so far. Thank you so, so much.

Damage: a joint survey was conducted Tuesday between surveyors from our insurance and that of the other vessel. It will be another 3-4 weeks before we have the official paperwork, but the consensus was that the damage approaches twice Nautilus' value. In addition to the mast and all the attached rigging, sails, hardware, etc., the teak deck would have to come up in order to address the damage to the deck and hull. This means that rather than pay for repairs, our insurance company is almost certainly going to write her off as a total loss.

I am waiting for formal documentation before sharing any exact numbers. Once we have them I will be more precise. But the general process as I understand it right now is below, for anyone curious about how everything shakes out.

What a loss means with insurance: my understanding is that repair damages are only covered by insurance up to the point a vessel is totaled. Since the damages almost certainly surpass her value then she would be totaled instead. In this scenario, our insurance would give us the value the Nautilus was insured for, and then pursue the other vessel's insurance for their own reimbursement. Additionally the other insurance might give us the income we lost over the remainder of the season, but whether that will happen and what amount that would be is up in the air, with the three different attorneys we consulted agreeing that we'd be fortunate to get any amount. Anything beyond that is apparently unlikely, any other legal pursuit would possibly lose us more money that we might hope to gain.

On our end: we took out a loan to buy Nautilus in April, and still owe the majority of it. By the terms of the loan, with a total loss we would have to pay back the full loan immediately. Then, because this is essentially our insurance 'buying' Nautilus from us, we would have to buy her back as salvage. The salvage price would be determined by the salvageable parts of her, and the surveyor. Hopefully it would be less than five figures, but it depends heavily on which insurance company actually ends up with her, and how exhaustively they tally up the pieces of her that they could sell. The surveyors could not tell us at the time of the survey who would end up with her or what they would charge. For the next month or two Nautilus is in a kind of purgatory where we do still technically own her, but only until insurance gets through the paperwork, which makes it difficult to begin any work right now.

Financially: when the dust settles, once the loan is paid and we own Nautilus once more as salvage, I think that based on the current estimates we may have some funds remaining. But even in the best case scenario - low salvage price, and we do receive lost income - it wouldn't be enough to finance all the needed repairs. My partner and I will be keeping the fundraiser up for as long as we are working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute to her repair fund. Any help from anyone who would like to see her sailing again will always be deeply appreciated, but we're both aware it's an absurd number. If we fail to meet it, we're both keenly aware it's not through any lack of generosity - I cannot possibly express how grateful we are for the help we have received already, and what a massive difference it has made over the last month as we deal with the immediate and long-term fallout, covering her haul-out and towing and bills over the months it will likely take to resolve all this.

Fixing Nautilus: my partner and I are still committed to repairing her, despite the cost and the time involved. The thought of letting her be cut up for salvage is too heartbreaking to bear. But at the pace things are progressing and with the resources we have, it's obvious now that it's not feasible to fix her fully over the winter; it will instead be over the course of several years. However, my partner and I hope that by doing as much of the work ourselves as we are qualified for, we can bring down the overall cost of repairs by a fair amount. Additionally, the broken mast was built only a few years ago by a gentleman who still has the plans for it and is willing to guide us through the process of building a replacement. There is a possibility we can connect with a local boat building school's fledgling restoration program. And a great many people have offered their time, advice, expertise, and contacts. The timeline has changed, but we are not giving up on her.

In the meantime: with the survey done, we now have at least a general idea of what the future will look like. Since working nonstop to get Nautilus sailing again by June is not on the table any longer, my partner and I are currently figuring out a long-term plan for ourselves, our little company, and the Nautilus herself. We have discussed a few ideas, which I'll share more about once we settle on anything concrete. Nautilus herself is finally clear of wreckage, with the pieces of her mast on sawhorses beside her, her deck swept clean, solar panel plugged in, and a tarp over the worst of the damage. She's as safe as we can make her for now; there's nothing else we can do except wait for the wheels to turn.

Lastly: thank you all, more than I can say. I have been trying not to miserypost, but I have been having a very hard time dealing with this, as has my partner. It took us ten years to save the money we put into Nautilus, and the few months we were able to spend sailing her together were the happiest and proudest I have been in my life. We have lost the future we'd imagined, and regardless of how this resolves, we are never getting that time back. We are determined not to lose the Nautilus as well, but it has honestly been difficult some days to push through the grief. The one consistent silver lining has been the kindness and sympathy and outrage from everyone who has taken the time to reach out to us. I have been floored, over and over, by how many people we have rooting for us. I am never, ever going to be able to express my full gratitude to all of you. Without exaggeration, you have kept me going.

I will share more once we know more - exact numbers, exact damage, exact plans for repairs and the next steps. Until then, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

#the other crew clearly felt awful and in fairness they were very forthcoming with all the information we needed #but two days later #kneeling on the deck picking up the splinters of the mast and taping over the worst of the exposed wood to keep the rain out #while they laughed and clinked glasses on their yacht which was still docked directly behind us #was a very difficult evening to get through #nautilus update #nautilus fundraiser #nautilus

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 7 months ago

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Hello, oh my, damn... so english isn't my first language and i wasn't sure how to phrase it better so don't worry, i totally understand being uncomfortable and I'm sorry 😅

I did enjoy your version very much and i also think that you should definitely go for a crow reader cause that is such a cute idea!

- accidentally proposing anon

No problem! And since you're interested here's some very quick ideas I had about crow reader before I go to work today!

Alastor

Nothing phases this man anymore. Niffty literally gifted him a crown of dead roaches. So when you flutter excitedly and present him with a string of shiny can tabs, you've been collecting he accepts it graciously.

"You're quite right dear, these are incredibly colorful. Yes, very shiny are you sure you don't want to keep this? Oh! You made it for me? Well, aren't you just precious."

He makes it into a necklace or even something to decorate his horns.

Vox

Valentino likes light, you like shiny things, both of you tend to like being around screens and bright colors.

Except you don't just like screens, it's anything colorful or shiny. Actually sometimes it's not even that, its just random odds and ends that caught your attention for some reason. He gets it sometimes, textures, patterns, things like that.

But you have everything from soda can tabs to random buttons to rocks of various shapes, sizes, and colors. You have different sticks and pieces of wood you found that for some reason you then had to have. Pieces of mismatched jewelry. It's cute but it also clutters up space and he eventually designates one room for your stuff and tells you to keep it condensed. You do, and swear it's organized, but it's all just a jumbled mess to him.

He's in his lair, observing all the many different cameras, looking for some wannabe actress who owed him money, when you bounce in, barely stifling excited squaking. He sighs fondly and turns to you, knowing he's not going to be able to concentrate until he sees what you want to show him.

It's a collection of your molted feathers, the best ones, sleek and iridescent, bound together with some colorful twine you found and attached to it is a miniature glass jar filled with colorful, shiny bits of plastic, metal, and rock, and corked shut and sealed with hot glue.

It makes a nice rattle sound when he shakes it and the feathers are nice to pet and run his fingers over and..."Did you make me a fidget toy? From....random stuff you found? That's, that's actually really cute, thanks Doll."

He downplays how much he uses it, but it's literally on his key ring, so you know it goes everywhere with him and if during long meetings his staff are subjected to the consistent background noise of little shiny bits rattling around in a jar, then that's their problem.

Lucifer

As you may have noticed Lucifer also tends to collect things he has no need for. But he might need it one day! Between the two of you it does get to be a bit of a problem, so you both agree to sort through and condense your piles.

It takes days cuz you guys keep stopping to show each other cool stuff you guys have. Then, several more days just to get through his numerous rubber ducks. Eventually it's down to a single room where your collections have merged. Each item carefully chosen and presented to one another like expensive jewelry or other such luxurious things. But it's a cool rock you found, a giant bronze spring, a box full of candy wrappers with clever sayings, and a scrapbook with various brightly colored pieces of cardboard from snacks, toys, shoes, literally anything, that caught your eye.

It's anyone's guess on who adds what, but you do both have to agree on it before it's added so you don't hoard things again.

That's the end, but maybe I'll go back and add Adam and some of the other characters later. I just wanted to get my initial ideas down before work.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader

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campbyler · 2 months ago

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our chapters average at 27,000 words, the total fic length is already 3x the average novel length, and we lost one of the authors working on this fic. it must be so nice to only have to endure the wait for a chapter to be uploaded so that you can interact with it rather than being the one to actually write it.

im going to be cruel (no pun intended) to be kind: this is such an intense externalisation of blame. you are the ones in control of the fic length; the chapters could handle some heavy editing and it wouldnt make them any less wonderful (such as regarding the descriptions of mike and will's internal thoughts, not the action between the characters themselves). fic is free and its a gift to be able to read works that inspire our hearts and minds while we wait for the show, but then again, when at the stern of a juggernaut work such as this, one that will inevitably have many followers chomping at the bit on tumblr as well as ao3 (as you designed it to have!), you surely must be aware of something that only usually exists in professional marketing spaces involving customers + brand IP: the relationship between consumer and creator, and what they can give each other.

not 'owe each other' - nothing is owed, except perhaps basic human kindness. fans want your work, and its free, so we should be grateful; likewise, you want readers, feedback and clicks, and that should be free, too. but in order for this to work smoothly, there has to be fair give and take. i mean, if you wanted to monetize the fic i'm sure many people would pay to read it, but thats beside the point here.

what fans of this fic simply want is the same honesty and self-awareness from you that they might expect from any artist who has embarked on such am ambitious project. and this doesnt just mean transparency about potential uploading dates (which is already much appreciated by the majority!), or notifications about how hard it is to balance work and life (something most people on the planet struggle with). it means total honesty and hard answers. people like to know where they stand. plenty of writers (both professional and fan alike) abandon works for months, years at a time, and if the work is THAT good, people will always be thrilled to see a return. it's the mucking people about that is what destroys relationships - no matter how good your reasons are.

your fic is wonderful and very, very memorable. you could take a big, undefined hiatus and people would, im sure, return, including me. seeing you admit that you have been prioritizing this fic over your mental health does not inspire confidence either, or even comfort - do i want to read something that has caused the creator such harm?

i think everything about this process would be happier for everyone if you set boundaries that work for you and didn't place blame elsewhere. after all, as you said, it's just a fanfic. it doesnt matter if you don't finish it. it doesnt matter if it takes all the way to s5 for 10.2 to release. everyone would, though, appreciate you taking a stance and being consistent (and therefore fair) to both yourselves and the readers.

please feel free to not post this publicly or do as you wish with it.

hello! thank you for your feedback and for sharing it in a way that is both kind and respectful. you make many valid points that i agree with -- we are in control of the word counts and could stand to edit down more, and we do recognize where being transparent about the reasons behind the chapter delays might not inspire confidence or comfort. i do, however, think that isolating one response/chain of responses to a particular ask is a little unfair, so i'd like to provide additional context.

i do not think that it's fair to say that we haven't been honest, self-aware, or fair, because we have been incredibly transparent throughout the entire run of the fic (over a year) about our writing process. just last month suni said she hadn't been working on 10.2 at all because abby had been visiting her house, and readily took ownership of that fact. there was a 4-month wait between chapters 9.1 and 9.2, and i was very open about the fact that i simply needed a break for at least the first of those months because i didn't want to write it. we have continued to maintain several times that we are not abandoning the fic, even if it takes longer between chapters, and have tried to stay as active as possible on the blog because we know that seeing us interact with asks Does inspire confidence. if you just scroll down and see how we have answered other asks inquiring about the upload, we responded kindly and respectfully.

what you interpreted as externalization of blame in that one (1!) ask response was me trying to provide perspective to someone who clearly lacked it. we understand that people will be frustrated about chapter delays, especially if we keep pushing them back, and this is also something that we have received feedback about before and tried to implement; however, it is also a double-edged sword where if we don't give an estimated upload, people get upset, or we give an estimated upload that we think is completely reasonable for us to achieve and then hurdles get in the way, whether it's writer's block or work or time with friends. i absolutely get the frustration on the receiving end, but something i have learned from being in this fandom for two years is that a pretty big majority of those who are interacting with fanworks are not creating it themselves, hence why my response -- while snippy and annoyed, because i was matching the energy, and will not apologize for that -- was contextualizing the whys behind the chapter delay: the chapters are long, the fic is long, we are down one entire body from where we started. the intention was not to shuck blame off of ourselves, but i get that intentions don't always translate into effect, so it's understandable that it was received differently.

we don't always respond to things perfectly. when we have a million and one asks inquiring about the next upload, one stray one that comes off the wrong way is likely going to set us off, because we are people, and this is not a job. we have set a boundary by disabling anon, and again, i cannot stress enough how much i appreciate that you've come to us with this feedback off-anon and with respect and decency. i get where you are coming from and again, agree with a lot of your points.

the only other thing i want to make clear is that this fic, no matter how much attention its garnered, should not be treated as a creator/consumer relationship that mirrors anything where the exchange of money is involved. not only is it unfair to apply this standard to fanworks, where it is illegal to monetize such content, but the entire purpose of fanworks is to celebrate what you are a fan of together. when you apply expectations on either end -- i am a fan of this work, therefore, people should create timely content for it; i am creating this fanwork, therefore, people should interact with it -- defeats the entire nature of fan-created work as a whole. while we have continued to be vocally grateful for the love and support our fic has been shown, we both maintain that we would continue writing and continue uploading even if we were getting less than half of the amount of interaction that we do. it's nice to have interaction, but not necessary, because we what write and post is done because we love it, and it's shared so that we can look back on it, so our friends can enjoy it, and anyone else who might want to. we are, of course, excited to share that world with anyone who cares -- we created the blog and the promo because we wanted to share it -- but that does not mean that the relationship between us and our readers should have expectations. we are all creating and enjoying this work for free for the sake of love for the characters, as the star trek obsessed housewives of the 60s (and the law) have intended.

i feel like this response is a bit jumbled so i apologize if anything isn't clear or hard to understand. thank you again for your time!

#asks

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cobaltperun · 11 months ago

Text

Lost (12) - You had me from hello

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-If I never told you I just want you to know you had me from hello-

Proving that yesterday was a fluke, Tara woke up to the sight of you already up and rolling the dough, which, knowing you, probably meant you were making crescent rolls. Tara stretched a bit, grabbed your pillow and got comfortable. She smiled and just watched you work for a couple of minutes. The years working as a cook really paid off, as you moved in the kitchen with practiced ease and Tara found herself swooning at the thoughts of eating your cooking for the rest of her life. She didn’t even feel like she was rushing with that thought. The two of you went through enough to know for sure that nothing, absolutely nothing, could separate you. And that thought made her smile. She let out a content sigh, humming as she got up and approached you. She hugged you from behind, the same way she did yesterday, only without putting her arms underneath your shirt this time.

"Good morning, Y/N," she said a bit sleepily, she lazily leaned down a bit and kissed you just beneath your shoulder blade, loving the way you went still just for a moment. You heard her even when she stretched, it was the kiss that made you stop for a moment.

"Good morning, birthday girl," she didn't even need to look at you to know there was a grin on your face. She heard you moving a bit, and wiping something before she felt your hands on top of hers. "Great timing actually. What filling would you like?"

Tara hummed at that, it was tempting to go for something sweet, but she'd have her cake later. "How about pizza?" just some tomato sauce, cheese, and ham would be perfect.

You nodded, fake coughing and tapping her hand lightly. Right, she'd need to let you go. "Thank you," you teased, turning around to kiss her cheek before heading to the fridge.

Tara leaned against the counter, careful to avoid dough and flour. "You're making a lot. Are Sam, Chad and Mindy coming?"

"Yeah, apparently we owe them for leaving us alone yesterday. Although, should the three of you be this relaxed about school?" you asked while looking inside the fridge, causing Tara to freeze for a moment and look away. You got everything you needed and came back, a bowl, ham, cheese and a bottle of tomato sauce in your hands, and you were carefully observing her. When you stood in front of Tara you set aside the bowl and ingredients down, took your apron off, and then tucked a few strands of hair behind Tara's ear. "What's wrong?"

You noticed. Not that she was surprised about that. No one knew her as well as you did. "It's been difficult lately," Tara sighed, if she wanted you to always be open with her, she'd have to be the same way with you.

You frowned and she swore she could see gears turning in your head. "Because of what happened?" you figured it out quickly, though it wasn’t that difficult to figure it out.

"Yeah," she leaned into you, seeking the comfort of having your arms around her gave her. And you gave her just that, pulling her in. She rested her head against your chest, listening to the sound of your heart beating. "Promise me you won't go crazy when I tell you," if anyone knew you, she knew you. Even if she failed to recognize you weren't fine for years. She knew how you were when it came to her. She knew you'd get pissed off the moment you heard how things were at school.

Tara heard a reluctant sigh and smiled when she felt you picking her up and taking her to the sofa. You sat down, with her safely sitting on your lap. "I don't like it, but I promise."

"It's either pity or blame. You know, some say they are sorry for me because of what Amber did to me, some say I should have noticed Amber was... the way she was," some went on to say Tara wasn't any different, that she killed Amber, so she was just as dangerous and sick in the head as her now deceased ex. She couldn't tell you that. You'd want the names of those people regardless of what you promised.

She felt you clenching your fists, she felt the tension in your muscles as you held her, she heard the deep breaths you took.

"Y/N," she nuzzled into your neck, hoping she could calm you down with touch, with assurance that she was right there and fine, and that you didn’t need to get into trouble over this. And you would get into trouble if you got involved with this.

"I know, I know. I trust you to tell me if you need me to do anything," that was what she wanted to hear as she caressed your cheek, slowly kissing from your neck all the way to your lips. It was a soft, brief kiss, but it was enough to calm your down.

Tara pulled back first, smiling. "I love how protective you are. I love knowing you are always there when I need you. I still need to handle things myself, you know? I need you to get back to the way you were before I was attacked," back then you were protective, but not to the point of handling any problem she had yourself. You didn't get to that point now, either, but Tara worried you might if she didn't point it out to you right away.

Before you left two months ago Tara absolutely needed you. She needed help moving, she couldn't take care of herself properly and at first needed help with even some of the more basic tasks. That was embarrassing, but you were patient and made sure she never felt like she was an inconvenience. She couldn't do anything too difficult and with the damage to her hand, she'd still need help with certain tasks in the future. That was the physical side of things. Carrying her, carrying things she couldn't, all the things like that, all of that was fine. She knew her limits and she was fine with your help with what she couldn't do. That's how things were before she got attacked as well, only back then they were less intimate.

As for handling issues like the one she currently had at school, well, that was where she drew the line. She couldn't have you solving everything, or getting involved with everything. She needed you to go back to the way you were before. Where you'd only get involved if she asked you to and would otherwise just offer her the support.

"I can still get angry, right?" you asked, relaxing a bit at her words.

"There's not much I can do about that," Tara laughed and leaned down once again to kiss your cheek. “Other than kiss you and hope that’ll calm you down,” she joked kissing the corner of your lips as you smiled. "I have you," she kissed your cheek again. "And Sam, and Mindy, and Chad," with every name she kissed another part of your face, your other cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose, purposefully avoiding your lips. "I can handle anything this stupid town throws at me."

How she wished she could erase what happened, go to a place where no one knew who she was and what she went through so that she could live a normal life. Hopefully, she could do exactly that once she leaves Woodsboro with you, Chad, and Mindy, and, she hoped, Sam as well.

You got tired of her insistent avoidance of your lips and gently cupped her cheek to properly kiss her. "I know you can. You will. And then we'll leave this damn place and never come back," Tara liked that idea. She liked the slow and gentle way you were kissing even more, the soft caress of your thumb across the side of her face. You separated too quickly for her liking. "Breakfast, Tara" you reminded her.

"Breakfast, Tara" she repeated, dejectedly getting off your lap and sitting next to you with folded arms, and you just laughed. "What?" she asked, surprised by your reaction.

"Pancakes, Y/N," you reminded her, and Tara blinked a few times, realizing she did exactly what you did yesterday.

And so, she laughed as well, jokingly pushing you to get up quicker. You got together yesterday, no one could blame her for being a bit more eager for everything than it was necessary. Besides, you weren't any different. Give it a bit of time and you'll both get used to the relationship, which should, in turn, make you a bit less excited about being in a relationship than you currently were. Twice a day was definitely not a pace either of you needed or could keep up with.

You didn't head right back to the dough, instead, you dug for something in your bag and walked back to her with a small bag. "I saw them and figured your hand might be sensitive to cold," you handed her the package. "Happy birthday, Love," you said, quickly bending down to peck her lips one more time.

Tara, pulled you into a hug, the package still in her hand. "Thank you," she whispered in your ear. The gift turned out to be a pair of rechargeable hand warmers. "I love it," could she tell you? Was it too early? She kinda figured you weren't the most usual couple, between near-death experience and being in love for years. Still shouldn't there be more build-up to those words? A relationship that was longer than thirty hours? "Y/N."

"Yeah?" you looked taken aback when you looked her in the eyes.

"It's just, I-" she was sure of what she felt, she just feared you might think it was too soon.

You smiled. "I love you too, Tara," her jaw dropped.

"Wha- How?" she jumped to her feet as you laughed and went back to making crescent rolls. "Y/N!" she scolded you with a pout on her face.

"Eyes are the window to the soul, right? Well, no one has eyes quite as expressive as yours, Tara. Besides, we've been through so much together. Saying 'I love you' feels more like stating the obvious, rather than a huge declaration," you shrugged while you began grating the cheese

Tara wanted to be annoyed, but, frankly, she couldn't be. You just had to be right, didn’t you? Tara did have to admit most people didn’t go through what the two of you did. There certainly wasn’t a book about when to say ‘I love you’ if you and your partner survived a couple of crazy killers trying to kill you. "You're right. Let's redo it. I love you, Y/N," she said and your smile morphed into a wide grin.

"I love you too, Tara."

~X~

About an hour later Tara got a text from Sam that her, Chad, and Mindy were almost there, and just in time as you were just done setting the table. The crescent rolls smelled absolutely divine and if they weren’t fresh out of the oven Tara would have tried them already.

The two of you heard a knocking on the doors and Tara jumped to unlock them.

“Sam learnt her lesson,” you teased as Tara walked past you and she just grinned at you, blushing slightly at the reminder of what nearly happened yesterday.

The moment she opened the doors Sam burst in, hugging her tightly. “Easy Sam, I was with Y/N,” Tara laughed, hugging her sister back.

“In more ways than one,” Mindy quipped shamelessly.

“Mindy!” Chad, luckily, chastised her before Tara could.

But Mindy just smirked, patting Tara on the back. “Early birthday present? Seeing stars without getting punched?”

Tara knew her face was as red as a tomato, she felt the heat in her cheeks as she looked away, of course Mindy would keep teasing her even now that she got together with you. “That’s… It’s not,” damn it, why was she so embarrassed? The two of you were in a relationship, of course you would…

“Damn it, Mindy, we’re supposed to have breakfast,” Sam complained as she let go of Tara.

“Exactly, and leave Tara be,” Chad jumped in to defend her as well.

Mindy just smirked, and while she stopped talking she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively causing Tara to groan. “Well, I had my fun, happy birthday, T,” Mindy finally went and hugged her. “Also, seriously, about time you two!” she exclaimed loud enough for you to hear her as well, but considering the way you were looking at them, with your jaw dropped, you definitely heard everything that came before as well.

“What the dingus said, I mean the about time thing,” Chad grinned and pulled Tara in for a hug. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, all of you,” Tara smiled, and just for a moment, for a fleeting second, she expected to see three more faces there. As if what happened was a horrible nightmare, as if Wes and Liv were still alive and Amber was alive and not a crazy murderer. But they weren’t there, they were all dead.

She tried to keep the smile on her face as she the three of them inside. All five of you sat down and Tara snuggled as close to you as she could, seeking your warmth and trying to push those thoughts away.

You always had a sixth sense for her distress, and you wrapped your arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

“So, world champion?” Chad awkwardly patted you on the shoulder.

Ever since Tara told the three of them of your retirement, they weren’t sure how to approach the subject, and that was with Tara. Now you were right there, and that awkwardness came back like a boomerang, and it was only slightly eased by the fact that you won. Well, depending on how you looked at it. Chad, personally, thought that you winning made it even worse, since you wouldn’t get the chance to defend your title and dominate the women MMA. He looked it up, you were the youngest women’s MMA world champion in history, and by a lot, especially in your category.

“Until the next title match, yeah. Anya will probably take it right back by beating up whoever her unlucky opponent ends up being,” you weren’t bothered though, not even a bit and Tara trusted you were honest.

“I bet, that woman hits hard,” Sam agreed, wincing slightly when she remembered how much Tara was panicking while they were all watching your fight.

You chuckled. “Tell me about it,” and just like that the tension was gone. Tara eased her worried mind by leaning into your touch, and you eased the worries of all your friends by being fairly chill about the retirement. For a brief moment Tara even chastised herself for ever doubting you in the first place.

~X~

Later that day you were washing the dishes while Tara and the twins choose how to pass the time. That was when Sam approached you.

She leaned back against the fridge, not quite looking at you, instead she crossed her arms and looked at Tara. "So, you and Tara," Sam began a bit awkwardly.

"Yes?" you couldn't help bit smirk a bit, but when you noticed Sam’s nervousness and the fact that she chose to keep her tone low, your smirk dropped, and you dried your hands. You were done anyway.

"You're official?" there was the question, honestly, you expected it a bit sooner, but you guessed there just wasn’t a chance for Sam to ask. And you guessed she was a bit conflicted.

You should have been annoyed by her demeanor. And maybe you were a bit annoyed. She was gone for five years, came back only when she had to, and while you were thankful she came back, you didn’t exactly appreciate the fact that she was tethering on the edge of protecting Tara from you of all people. But you did understand. Tara went through a traumatic experience, and she jumped into a relationship with you the moment you came back. Not to mention the circumstances surrounding you leaving weren’t the best either. Sam couldn’t know that you and Tara completely talked it out, before you got together, and then during the rest of the day, you just talked it all over. Or at least the most important topics.

So, between understanding where Sam was coming from and the excitement you felt over being with Tara you couldn't wipe that stupid grin off your face as you glanced at Tara debating with Mindy on which movie to watch was enough of an answer on its own. "Yeah, it kinda just happened," you then quickly raised your hand. "Before you give me protective older sister speech, I know. I get it. If I ever hurt her, you're free to do whatever you want," of course, after you chose your own fitting punishment.

Sam nodded, smiling at your reassurance. "Honestly, if it had to be anyone, I'm glad it's you," she looked at Tara, at the grin on her face that mirrored your own when she glanced toward you. "She's happy with you."

You smiled, that was all you wanted. To make Tara happy and be happy with her.

"Sam, Y/N, come on!" Tara said, interrupting the conversation you had with Sam, still, you doubted there was anything else left to say. Sam approved, even if she was justifiably concerned for her sister.

~X~

As the celebration began coming to a close the five of you were left sitting, just chilling in your and Tara’s apartment. Mindy and Chad were on the couch and Chad was eating his second slice of cake. Sam and Mindy refused the seconds, but you and Tara were sharing a piece, since Tara was already full, but craved something sweet and you weren't about to turn down extra cake. Sam was sitting at the bottom of your and Tara’s bed, while you sat cross-legged on your bed with Tara sitting on your lap. You had one arm around her waist while holding the plate in the other. Tara was the one with the duty to feed either of you.

"Hey, what should we do when we leave Woodsboro?" Chad suddenly asked as he took another bite of his cake.

"Go to university, get our degrees, you know how it goes," Mindy didn't seem too interested in the topic. She never was the one to complicate things, she knew what she wanted to do, and she would do it, thus talking about it in detail felt unnecessary to Mindy.

"Well yeah, but I'd like us to stick together. You know, after what we went through," he said and you couldn't help but feel relief at his words.

You glanced at Tara, seeing the hopeful look in her eyes. This clearly wasn't something they talked about before.

"I don't think I can trust other people easily, after what Amber did," Mindy admitted. "And I really care about you two," she said to Chad and Tara. "No offense, Y/N, Sam."

"None taken, I get it," Sam immediately assured her and you just grinned.

You and Mindy were friends, you were on good terms, you could see she was happy for you and Tara. You also fully understood it was a friendship that relied on your mutual connection to Tara.

"Well, I care about all of you," Chad was, for the lack of a better description, much more open to caring about people than Mindy. Granted, you had more in common with Chad than Mindy, so that may have had something to do with the closer friendship the two of you had.

"How about we pick the same university and rent an apartment together?" Tara went for the best-case scenario in her head.

Mindy immediately crossed her arms in an X shape. "No way, university yes, but living with you two? No, I can't handle how stuck together you two are," she immediately shut it down.

Tara laughed, jokingly smacking her shoulder. "We're not that bad!"

Mindy just looked at Tara blankly and shook her head. "T. We know what you did yesterday, a day, actually scratch that, hours into your relationship, by the way," Tara and you got embarrassed at that. It wasn’t even hours, it was more like minutes. "Also, kind of hard to believe you when you haven't left Y/N's lap for longer than a minute the whole night."

"She got you there Snuggle Bear," you snickered, pulling the embarrassed girl closer to you, despite not doing much better than her.

Tara pouted and untangled herself from you, so she could go to Sam who happily accepted the role of hugging her sister.

"There, there, don't worry about it," Sam smoothed Tara's hair and pulled Tara to her right side. Tara eagerly leaned into Sam's embrace.

"See! This is what I'm talking about! As if being sweet with Y/N wasn't enough, there's Sam as well!" Mindy laughed and honestly, given the situation, you and Chad couldn't help but join in. "It never ends, and I worry it might be contagious."

Tara just turned around and stuck her tongue out.

'We're all just touch-starved, aren't we?' you couldn't help but think as you shook your head slightly.

"No, look at it from the brighter side, at least she's going from one to the other," and Chad had to say it.

Tara immediately perked up and looked at you. "Y/N," she said sweetly and made a 'come here' motion with her hand.

"No!" Mindy and Chad jumped to grabbed onto you.

"Duty calls," you smirked, getting up to shake the two off and get closer to Tara and Sam despite the two trying to pull you back.

"Stay with us Y/N! She has you wrapped around her little finger!" Mindy laughed.

"How does Tara hold you back and pull you around all the time?" Chad complained as he relented and gave up on trying to hold you back.

Looking over your shoulder you saw Mindy looking at Chad with an 'Are-you-serious' look on her face.

"I let her," you shrugged and dropped down next to Tara. "Yes, Tara?"

Tara glanced down at her left hand, resting on her thigh. Then she glanced at your own hand. Okay, you could figure that one out. You leaned back and slid your arm around Tara's lower back so you could reach her left hand from behind. "Like this?"

"Just like that," going by the smile on Tara's face she really enjoyed the moment. Sam having her arm around Tara's shoulders and you hugging her at the same time.

"See, it's like she has two guard dogs now," Mindy's laughter suddenly stopped. The reminder of Amber's nickname for you hanging in the air like an uncomfortable weight on everyone's shoulders. "Shit, sorry, Tara," she apologized.

"No, don't worry about it," Tara got up, but before you or Sam could go after her Mindy got up and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm really sorry. For teasing as well, hug them all you want," Mindy dropped the tough act just for a few moments.

Tara returned the hug and you saw her shoulders relaxing before the two girls separated.

"Uh, I'd like a hug too," Chad grinned sheepishly, prompting Tara to hug him as well.

If there really was a group of life-long friends forming between the five of you there was no doubt in your mind the heart and soul of that group was Tara.

A/N: The gift is an idea from Anon's headcanon, I didn't even know those were a thing until Anon mentioned them. Thank you, Anon!

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 1 month ago

Text

half past five high: chapter 6 - a fool's broken heart

pairing: photographer!Joshua x influencer!reader (fem), supermodel!Mingyu x influencer!reader

genre: angst, love triangle!au

warnings: cursing, emotional distress, an argument, mingyu (probably the biggest warning)

word count: 3k

summary: joshua's kind nature puts him in more trouble than he can manage. but it also leads him to a strengthened resolve.

taglist: @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu @husbandhoshi @wonwoosthetic @boowanie @billboard-singer @gaebestie @jaeyux @aurumness @chwebychew @xrubyrosesx @lovelyhan @himbocoups @wongyuseokie @prettygyuuu @karynnoona

Author's note: hi everyone! i am actually alive and kicking again :D and what better way to come back with a new chapter, right? huge thanks to @tusswrites and @seokgyuu for beta/proofreading this 💕

Joshua walks through the rotating glass doors of the hotel as he drags his metal suitcase behind him. With heavy steps, he approaches the reception and rings the golden bell on the black marble counter.

The receptionist greets him with a radiant smile. “Good evening, sir. How can I help you?”

“Good evening. I would like to book a room.”

“Of course. We have deluxe suites available-”

“Just a normal room with a single bed is okay.” Joshua cuts the man off with a half-hearted smile, “Luxury isn’t my current priority.”

“I see,” the receptionist checks the available rooms, “For how long will you be staying, sir?”

“I wish I knew,” Joshua sighs in defeat, “I’ll pay for this week and then I’ll see where it takes me.”

“Very well, sir.” The receptionist nods and hands over the room key. “Your room is on the seventh floor. You can pay for the room at checkout, if you wish.”

“I…,” Joshua trails off, “Thank you.”

“Have a good night, sir.”

Joshua walks towards the elevator and presses the button to the seventh floor, the door opening a few seconds later. It doesn’t take him long to find his assigned room and open the door to reveal a very clean and cozy room, just like he asked for.

Placing his suitcase aside, he plops down on the bed, shoes already kicked off and arms clenched tight. Running down a palm over his face, he lets out a heavy and long sigh.

How did things come down to this?

This question has been running laps around Joshua’s mind ever since he left the house, heart clenching every time he remembers revving the engine of his car and speeding into the heart of Seoul.

“No point in doing this now…” He mutters to himself and gets up from the bed to remove his clothes and jump into the shower, turning the tap to warm.

After a long and steamy shower, Joshua is neatly wrapped in the hotel bathrobe, sitting on the armchair next to the window with his earbuds on.

The song he’s listening to is abruptly interrupted by an incoming call, a quiet groan escaping his lips as he answers the call.

“Hello?”

“Good evening Shua! It’s me, Seungcheol.”

“Oh, Cheol, hi!” Joshua chirps when he recognizes the voice of the caller. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s gonna be pleasant for you, because it’s definitely not the most pleasant time for me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The photographer who was supposed to take the pictures for tomorrow’s photoshoot had an accident and they had to cancel everything.” Seungcheol states with an audible sigh.

“Jesus- Are they okay?!” Joshua gasps loudly.

“It wasn’t something life-threatening, thankfully.” The man admits. “But they have a wrist fracture, which is a pain in the ass.”

“Oh God, that’s gonna take weeks to heal.” Joshua sighs audibly.

“Yeah, I know. If it wasn’t so urgent, I wouldn’t have disturbed you - Besides, you must be busy with wedding preparations, right?”

A bitter aftertaste washes over Joshua’s mouth, his gut churning at Seungcheol’s words - not that it’s his fault. How could he have known?

“Yeah, it's been hectic lately, but I’m managing.” He musters as much fake happiness as he can, in order to sound believable. He thanks whatever higher being exists for hearing his friend laugh and congratulate him for his patience.

“So, can I count on you for tomorrow?” Seungcheol double checks.

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Joshua’s composure remains unfaltering.

“Wonderful! I’ll email you the details in a few minutes. You’re a lifesaver, Shua.”

“No worries, Cheol. Have a good night.”

The call ends on a positive note and Joshua breathes a sigh of relief. He’s glad for this sudden change of events, hoping the extra work will take his mind off the mess that has become his personal life.

That was, until he received the email from Seungcheol with said details of the job.

Model: Mingyu Kim, 27.

It was only three words, but it was enough to twist and turn his guts around in the worst way possible. It feels like someone is doing shit on purpose, just to make him suffer.

He switches off his phone in haste and places it next to his earbuds. He knows what is going to happen if he calls Seungcheol back to cancel on his offer and unnecessary questions are the last thing he needs on his plate.

Guess we gotta put the brave facade on and power through this, too.

The next morning finds Joshua in the studio rented by the magazine directors, doing the necessary changes in his camera setup for the photo shoot.

Despite being welcomed warmly by the rest of the staff, he knows it won’t last long. Once Mingyu steps in, he’s in for the real crash test-

“Good morning everyone!”

Speak of the devil.

Joshua whips his head around and sees the man in question greeting everyone with a big, bright, toothy smile - as if he’s the most perfect, greenest flag in the whole universe.

It makes him want to vomit.

“Well I’ll be, if it isn’t Joshua Hong!” Mingyu exclaims, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Well, good morning to you too, Mingyu.” Joshua responds with a fake smile.

“Sir Hong will be today’s photographer.” One of the staff members explains to the model, “Unfortunately, the other one who was supposed to be here recently suffered a wrist fracture.”

“Dear God, are they okay?!” The tall man asks with worry written all over his face.

“As far as we know, they’re safely recuperating at home, but they had to cancel their schedules for the next month.

“Do you have their contact info? I would like to send them my wishes for speedy recovery.”

“I believe you must ask sir Choi for that.”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll go search for him after the shooting.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Joshua cuts through the conversation, “But I think sir Mingyu needs to go get his makeup done soon.”

“Oh, of course! I’m sorry for keeping you from your schedule.” The man apologizes with a bow and walks away.

“Certainly didn’t expect you of all people to show up for the shooting.” Mingyu says with disdain.

“If I knew you were the model beforehand, I wouldn’t have even bothered to say yes.” Joshua replies in a similar manner.

“Has anyone ever taught you that you always ask for details before you accept a job? Oh right, they don’t teach you that in freelance school.” The tall man snickers while looking at his phone.

“Have you ever heard of ‘helping a friend in times of need’? Oh right, they don’t teach you that in whatever school you attend for toxic people.” Joshua retaliates and allows a smile to form on his face when he notices Mingyu’s grimace.

“Toxic or not, your girlfriend - sorry, fiancé - still preferred me over you.”

“Listen here, you fucking bastard-” Joshua grabs Mingyu by the shirt, bunching up the fabric in his fist.

“Ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that here. Don’t wanna bring back bad memories from Venice, do you now?”

The older man grunts and lets go, quickly looking around to check for any prying eyes.

“That’s what I thought as well. Now, if you don’t mind, I must get my makeup done for the shooting.”

Joshua runs his hand through his hair, nervously pacing back and forth. The current situation isn’t in his favor at all and it couldn’t have come at a worse time. He absentmindedly opens his phone to check the time and his heart sinks when he notices a few unread messages from you.

soon to be wife: i miss you

soon to be wife: i know you don’t want to talk to me rn

soon to be wife: but i hate everything without you

soon to be wife: i’m so sorry shua

“Goddamnit, Y/N…..” He mutters under his breath and shoves the phone back into his pocket, focusing on the task at hand - mainly pulling through this job.

To his surprise, the photoshoot went way smoother than he anticipated. But what surprised him the most was the sheer professionalism Mingyu exhibited during the shooting. It was as if he was working with one of the most composed models he has ever seen - a sheer contrast to his repulsive demeanor.

The model was willing to follow any directions Joshua threw at him, resulting in perfect photos for the magazine issue and a round of compliments from the staff.

No matter how smoothly everything went, Joshua felt like he wanted to physically puke. With each passing moment, he could feel himself suffocating and wanting to scream on top of his lungs. How could all these people be so easily fooled by Mingyu and his act? How does he always get away unscathed, despite the public stunts he pulls every now and then?

Just…..how?

He wordlessly disassembles his camera, carefully placing each component in their designated spots in the box.

“Wow, that’s one hell of a camera case,” Mingyu comments with a low whistle right behind him, “Must have cost a fortune.”

“Didn’t really make a dent in our bank account, if that’s what you want to know.” Joshua replies monotonously.

“Our bank account?” The model repeats with curiosity, fueled by his desire to mock the man in front of him.

Slip of the tongue. Fuck, Joshua curses within. He shouldn’t have said that, let alone in front of Mingyu.

“Aw, it was a gift from your beloved fiancé. How sweet of her.”

“Yeah, it was. Are you happy now?”

“Me? I was just making small talk.”

“For someone who is an expert at changing facades, you’re being an awful liar right now.”

“You’re so perceptive, aren’t you, mister Hong?”

“What do you want from me, Kim?”

“A good look on your pathetic face. And I got plenty of them.” Mingyu grins like a wolf.

“How miserable must you be to find joy in ruining people’s lives?”

“Way less miserable than you right now.”

Joshua scoffs and turns his back on Mingyu, walking away in disgust.

“Bet that’s how you walked away from home when you found out about Y/N.”

Joshua flashes a middle finger behind him and leaves the studio for good, picking up the pace to reach his car.

As soon as he gets in the driver’s seat, he exhales shakily, body slouched in the leather seat and the camera bag discarded in the passenger’s seat.

“God fucking damnit,” he almost yells and punches the wheel, the skin on his knuckles turning red because of the impact.

Out of the blue, the phone rings and Joshua pulls it out of his pocket, grimacing when he sees your name on the screen. Without a second thought, he turns down your call and puts it back where it was.

soon to be wife: shua please answer the phone

soon to be wife: your mom called earlier

soon to be wife: i told her you were busy with work but i don’t know for how long i can stall things

soon to be wife: can you please stop by home? we really need to talk this time

He thinks that you’re lying this time too, but part of him wants to go home and see what this is all about.

“Home, huh…”

He fastens his seatbelt and turns on the engine of his car, gripping the wheel with determination.

Let’s go home, then.

You sit on the couch, quietly drinking a cup of tea. Ever since Joshua left the house, everything seems lifeless, the guilt eating you from the inside day by day.

The phone call by his mother was another nail on the coffin - you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth about breaking her beloved son’s heart. So, you did what you’ve been doing so well since Paris.

You lied to her.

You lied about the marriage preparations going well, you lied about you and Joshua doing fine, you lied about everything.

You check your phone in hopes of Joshua answering your texts, but nothing has changed. Not that things would change so easily, but delusions aren’t always bad.

Suddenly, you hear the front gate of the house opening and the familiar noise of your fiancé’s car entering the parking lot. You rush to the window, parting the curtains to confirm the source of the commotion and your heart skips a beat.

He came…. He really came!, you smile to yourself and back away from the window, rushing to the door.

Right before you put your hand on the knob, the door unlocks from the outside and Joshua walks inside with a neutral expression.

“Welcome home, Shua.” You greet him fondly.

“I take it you’re doing well, since you’re greeting me so happily.” He responds dryly.

“I- I’m just happy to see you again.” You nervously rub the side of your neck.

“Yeah, sure.” He scoffs.

“I mean it, Joshua. I’m glad you’re here.” You look him straight in the eyes.

“Cut to the chase, please. Did my mother actually call?”

“Of course she did! Around twelve o’clock-”

You notice the lack of trust written all over his face and your shoulders slouch down.

“....You thought I lied to you, didn’t you?”

“Can you blame me, Y/N?” Joshua crosses his arms, “You were lying to me for the past months, why would I believe you now?”

“But I’m telling you the truth!” You desperately defend yourself.

“Okay then. Let’s suppose that you are indeed telling the truth. What did my mother tell you?”

“She asked me about the marriage preparations and if I need any help from her.”

“Well, that does sound like her.”

“She also said that she wants to fly over and give me a helping hand, but I told her that we have everything under control.”

“Is that all?”

“No, she also asked if she could speak to you, but I told her that you were out for a photoshoot and that she wouldn’t have to bother to call you, because you always turn off your phone during work.”

“Believable enough, I suppose.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Shua.”

“Don’t expect any sympathy, Y/N. All of this is happening because of your actions.” He reminds you with a stern voice.

“I know! I’m not looking for sympathy, because I am aware of the mess I’ve made!”

“Then what do you expect me to do?!”

“I just want to ask for your help, to see what we’re going to do from now on!” You yell.

“Oh, so now you want my help?” Joshua laughs bitterly, “The audacity is fucking real.”

“Joshua, please, this isn’t just about me!”

“You know, it’s really funny how you just remembered ‘us’ in this relationship.”

You swallow thickly, the tension ramping up with each passing second.

“Tell me - After everything you did to fuck me up and this beautiful thing we built after all the shit we went through in Venice, why would I even want to help you out?”

“I’m not asking you to lie, I’m asking you to sit down for a while and see where we’re standing!” You raise your voice again.

“Have you considered the possibility of me not wanting to do that?” He deadpans.

Your heart drops in your stomach and a tear rolls down on your cheek.

“Then…. Why did you even come here?”

“That’s a pretty damn good question.” Joshua replies, wiping away a stray tear.

Silence befalls the lounge as the two of you stand across each other, unable to put your feelings in words.

“One week.”

“What?”

“One week. In one week, both of us should have sorted out our feelings and come to a conclusion,” Joshua proposes.

“I accept.”

“I wasn’t finished, Y/N. Until then, none of us should contact each other, for the sake of avoiding situations like this one.”

“Fine by me.”

“I’m glad we could agree on this.”

“Yeah, I guess….”

“Um, I should be going now,” he announces and walks towards the door.

“I-I’ll see you off.” You rush to open the door for him and his eyes fall on your hand, noticing that you’re still wearing the ring he gave you.

“Stay safe, Y/N.”

“You too, Joshua.” You give him a small smile and watch him go to his car, leaving shortly after.

You abruptly close the door and burst out in tears, sobbing loudly in the middle of the empty house. Your knees turn to jelly and you collapse on the floor, tears flowing uncontrollably.

The last time you saw Joshua looking at you with such disdain before coming to an agreement was back in the Venezian police station.

And it tore your heart to pieces.

Serves me fucking right, you think and wipe your face with the back of your hand.

Your phone rings and you force yourself to get up and pick it up, but as soon as you read Mingyu’s name, you wince in disgust.

“What do you want?” You ask with irritation.

“Whoa, not the nicest tone for a pretty lady, is it now?” He

“I’m not in the mood to flirt with you, Mingyu.”

“A shame, because I am in such a good mood today, especially after seeing your pathetic fiancé.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he was the emergency replacement photographer for my photoshoot today. You should have seen his face when-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You curse at him with gritted teeth.

“Okay darling, now you’re being mean-”

“I said shut the fuck up! And don’t even try contacting me again.”

“What, had a change of heart all of a sudden?” He chuckles.

“And what if I did?”

“Your loss, sweetheart. You’ll eventually come around.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They always come around for seconds. You’re no exception to the rule.”

“Fuck you.” You spit and end the phone call, instantly blocking Mingyu’s number and any other means he has to contact you.

“Every rule has an exception, asshole.” You mutter to yourself and put the phone down on the table.

Perhaps Joshua wanted to tell you about this encounter, but his pride didn’t let him do so - quite typical of him. Maybe it was for the better.

At least now you’re certain of what needs to be done. Of what you want to get done.

The rest is up to Joshua’s judgement.

#svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #joshua angst #mingyu angst #svt joshua #svt mingyu #joshua hong #kim mingyu #svt angst #seventeen angst #seventeen #hpfh

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