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lyjen · 5 months ago

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Freeway 710

Summary: When (Y/n) drives home from her work, she meets the 710 freeway wrong-way driver. The 118, including her fiancé Evan gets dispatched to the scene. When the 118 finds the car on the scene, (Y/n) is barely conscious and Evan tries to keep himself together.

Request by: @shauna-carsley

Taglist: @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley

9-1-1 Masterlist

(Y/n) stepped down on the gas pedal as soon as she entered the 710 freeway in Los Angeles. Driving on the freeway was always something that made (Y/n) nervous, even though she had to drive over that road every single day to get to work and back.

But on the other hand, driving was like some kind of therapy for her. It was one of the moments she could empty her mind, something she really needed after a day of work. She didn’t have a typical 9 to 5 job everyone talked about.

(Y/n) worked for the 9-1-1 Metro Dispatch Center in Los Angeles. She loved the job, but it could be heavy sometimes. You would be expecting the most normal calls, the house fires, someone breaking into someone's home or someone having a medical emergency. But apparently there are so many more kinds of emergencies, but you wouldn’t know until you were an actual dispatcher.

A yawn left (Y/n)’s mouth as she looked over her shoulder to see if she could switch lanes. With her left hand she clicked the blinker on to the left and switched lanes.

The job was fun, sometimes tiring, but it was something she was born to do: help people. And the best part of it was the fact that she could stay anonymous. Something she didn’t like was being in the spotlight, and this way she could do both.

All she wanted right now was to get home, drop herself on the couch and sleep, or maybe watch some trash tv.

(Y/n)’s thoughts wandered, something that sometimes happened as she was tired. She would start daydreaming. She knew the route from home to work and back like the back of her hand, she could dream it if she wanted to. She would stay focussed on the road, but after driving this road so many times you start to get used to a routine.

Her sweaty palms held onto the steering wheel as she switched the blinker up, gesturing to the other drivers on the 710 that she was going to the right lane. With another quick look into her blind spot, she moved the car to the other lane again.

Her hand reached out for the touchscreen panel, trying to skip the song that was currently on. (Y/n)’s eyes wandered back from the screen towards the road as she could hear other drivers in the distance from her start using their horn. Something that would make her mad and her anxiety rise if it came from the cars behind her.

“Really?” she sighed as the honks kept sounding over the freeway. But when the cars in front of her started to move towards the side and her eyes were completely in focus with the two headlights in front of her.

She felt like a deer looking into headlights, literally. Her pupils grew wide as she tried to react to the sudden situation she was in. But suddenly she didn’t know what to do, she felt like she was frozen. She couldn’t think, or act. Like the connection between her brain and her nerves system was cut off, as if some kind of error had occurred.

Just a few feet before the car would’ve smashed hers, she yanked the steering wheel towards the right to avoid the wrong-way driver.

The second she saw the other driver pass her car, she thought she had made it through without any scratches. It wasn’t until another car hit her passenger side, her forehead connects with the steering wheel as the airbag goes off and lashes her head back against the headrest of the carseat.

(Y/n) could feel the car start to spin. But those spins quickly made the car flip to the side and go over the head multiple times. A loud squeal left her lips as she could feel her body being shaken up. It felt like her stomach together with all the intestines almost came out of her mouth.

The smell of the engine fought its way through her nostrils.Her throat was burning from all the screams and cries that had left her mouth as the car finally stopped rolling.

A groan left her lips as she had a throbbing pain in her head and her ears were ringing due to the airbag going off, it was hard to focus on anything really.

She could feel all the blood from her body go towards her head, which made her realize that the car was flipped upside down.

Her eyes filled with panic, she tapped her fingers onto the display where her phone was connected to. It wasn’t reacting to the contact of her fingertip.

Broken. Of course.

She could feel herself slip away, as she tried to keep herself conscious, but she didn’t know how. She needed to find her phone. She squeezed her eyes closed for a second, trying to get back her vision, but it only became worse.

And the fact it was dark outside didn’t help much either. The mix of a blurry vision and the darkness outside didn’t give her an advantage.

Her breathing was becoming shallow, and she could feel the blood dripping off her forehead, into the car. She scanned her surroundings, until her eye fell onto a black haze. That had to be her bag.

She tries to reach out, but as she tries to make her body longer, a scream leaves her mouth and a throbbing sensation spreads in her leg.

Short breaths were passing her lips. Her leg was killing her, her head and arm were starting to hurt even more. The adrenaline must be leaving her body.

But she had to get to her phone. How was someone going to find her otherwise? She needed to get through the pain and call for help, it was the only way.

With her arm she reached out for the black blur that must be her bag. She bites her lower lip as she could feel the pain in her leg becoming worse as she reached further and further. Her fingertips brushed the handles of her bag.

Another scream leaves her mouth as she reaches another small inch further and finally manages to grab her bag. She quickly rumbled in her bag as she fished out her phone.

Her eyes wandered over the screen as she couldn’t see anything but a blur. She could blink for minutes, but it wouldn’t matter because her eyes wouldn’t stop projecting a blurry vision.

How was she going to call someone if she couldn’t read the numbers?

She held the on and off button, as soon as she heard the tone that Siri was activated. “Siri call nine, one, one” She watched the phone go to the caller screen as a few drops of blood fell off her face onto the screen.

As she waited for an operator to pick up, her vision was starting to project black dots. Her ears were still ringing, but she could hear the phone trying to connect with dispatch.

“9-1-1 are you calling about the pile up?” The familiar operator's voice sounded through the phone. It was a young one, and there only worked one younger person there than (Y/n) .

It was May, Athena’s daughter.

Her voice sounded dull in the back of her mind as a gasp fell off her lips. “I think.. I-.. I was in it.” she stumbled with a soft voice, as if she was whispering. She was trying to breathe away the pain she felt in her entire body.

“First responders are on scene and working, you should be able to see them.” May said as she typed details from the call on to the log.

“I- don’t see.. anyone” her weak voice said as she looked around the car, seeing nothing but the night sky and feeling her own blood dripping off her face onto the roof of the car. Which was now connected with the ground.

“Are you injured?” the younger girl’s voice asked through the phone.

“I think my leg is stuck” she claimed. The black and white dots in her eyes were expanding and multiplying until she couldn’t see anything at all.

“Are you there? Ma’-” May's voice sounded on the background, getting duller with each letter she was pronouncing, but the call got cut off. The only thing she could see right now is the color black as she heard the beeping sound fade out.

Evan was just walking beside his captain, as he heard Sue’s voice over the radio. “Dispatch to one eighteen, come in. This is Sue” the voice from Sue, the supervisor of the Metro Dispatch Centre, sounded over the channel on their radio. Evan’s eyebrows furrowed at the sound of Sue. Why was she talking over the radio? That was something that rarely happened.

Bobby wrapped his hand around the radio as he pushed in the button to speak. “Go for captain Nash” he said as he let go of the button which turned his microphone on. Evan and Bobby kept walking over the freeway, scanning the scene if there were any more persons trapped in their cars or in any other way of distress.

Evan’s eyes swept over the scene, crashed cars, broken windows and mirrors, and lots of damage. And this all because a woman was drunk and decided to get in the driver's seat. He couldn’t believe that the woman in this situation had a little underage boy in the backseat.

“Captain Nash, we received a call from a woman, who claims that she was in the pile up on the freeway seven ten.” The sound of Sue sounded through the radio clipped on Buck’s turnout jacket.

Did they miss someone? It couldn’t be. Buck was sure he had checked every vehicle, every small corner. But he was starting to question if he didn’t miss anything.

Bobby seemed confused, his eyes furrowed at Sue’s words. Evan could read on his captain’s face that he was going off some kind of mental checklist. “I’m sure we’ve already extricated everyone that has been in this crash, are they sure she was in this crash?” Bobby knew for sure he and his crew already checked every vehicle.

“Hold on captain, we are trying to get the phone’s coördinates” Sue’s voice said again. In the meantime Evan and Bobby stopped both in their tracks, waiting for Sue to find the exact location of the phone that sent her the coordinates. Evan focussed his eyes down onto the asphalt of the freeway, trying to make out if maybe he did see anything.

Evan did remember lots of cars crashed into each other, but he didn’t see any other vehicles get off the road somehow. He would’ve spotted it. He never missed a victim.

His eyes shot up as he could hear the noise from the radio pop up again. “The location from the caller is the forty-three exit ramp” the female voice spoke.

Evan’s eyes wandered over the scene to see where they were. When he couldn’t find any signs telling him where they were, he quickly turned around. His eyes found those green freeway signs, telling him exactly where they were.

Exit ramp forty-six.

His stomach turned as his eyes read the sign. They were three exits further than where another car had crashed? Evan slowly turned back around towards Bobby. “So.. this car wasn’t in the pile up.” He concluded.

“She was in front of it.” Bobby added to Evan’s conclusion.

How didn’t anyone else see that one car? People behind the car that got hit should’ve seen it, right? “Everybody on me! Come on, let's move!” Bobby said loudly as he waved his team over as he was running towards the truck.

They needed to get back to exit ramp forty-three as soon as possible. This victim was hurt, and was in need of immediate medical attention. Every second counts in these kinds of situations.

Just as Evan jumps in the truck as the last one of his team. He shut the door with a bang as he made a fist with his hand and banged it against the roof of the truck, as a sign that the truck could go. “Let’s go!” Evan’s voice spoke as Miller stepped on the gas pedal.

Even though Miller’s foot touched the bottom of the truck with the gas pedal, it felt like a dozen minutes until they arrived at exit ramp forty-three.

Evan’s eyes didn’t leave the sight of the window he was looking through. He was on a mission. He was going to find that car that he couldn’t have missed. And he for sure wasn’t missing it now.

The truck pulled to a stop, even before it pulled to a stop, he flung open the door and he jumped out. Scanning every inch of the entire scene.

His eyes rushed over the scene until his eyes fell onto the sign ‘Exit 43’. He let his eyes wander not even an inch lower, until he spotted tire tracks in front of the sign.

His veins were being filled with adrenaline as soon as he saw those tire tracks. “Hey hey! Tire tracks! Right here!” Evan pointed out as he looked over his shoulder, looking at his team, silently asking if they were seeing it too.

From a distance he could spot a small amount of smoke floating into the air and spreading itself. ”Let’s go let’s go!” he yelled at the team as he started running towards the side of the road, following the tire tracks into the grass. Just at the edge of the grass he stopped in his steps as he scanned the scene. Suddenly his stomach turned at the sight.

A blue Mini Cooper.

******

A soft smile was projected on (Y/n)’s face as Evan held the door open for her and she ducked a little to avoid hitting her head against his arm. She walked through the doors of the bar where she and Evan had spent their Friday night.

No date, no alcohol, just a few drinks with a friend. It was nice, having someone to talk to who didn’t do the same job as you. (Y/n) didn’t have many friends, and most of the time after her shift at the dispatch center all she wanted to do was to go home.

But when she got that text from Buck, asking if she wanted to grab some drinks after shift. She couldn’t say no. Mainly because she had a bad shift, and she needed to vent to someone, but also because somehow she couldn’t seem to stay away from the firefighter.

“Thank you. I really needed this” (Y/n)’s voice spoke up as Evan caught up and was walking on her right side. With her hands in the pockets of her beige thin corduroy jacket, she glanced over at Evan who gave her a small smile. “Glad I could offer that listening ear for you.” his voice said as he nodded, happy that he sent that text message.

There was silence, not the awkward kind. It was nice, she felt comfortable.

Evan stopped in his tracks. “Hey, do you need a ride home?” he carefully asked, he didn’t want to push her into anything. She gave him another small smile as she stopped walking too and was in front of him. “That’s sweet of you, but…” she opened her bag and dug in the small compartment, as she fished out her car keys from her bag.

”Already taken care of that” she smiles as the hanger of the key chain was balancing on her index finger, moving it slightly as if it was some kind of price.

“Always thinking ten steps ahead” he chuckles.

A small laugh fell off her lips as she looked down at her feet, and let her eyes slowly wander back to his face. “Well then, can I maybe walk you to your car?” he asked, as he scratched the back of his head.

“That would be nice, thank you” she said as Evan quietly asked her which way to go. She pointed towards her left, where a small parking lot was stationed a few feet away from the restaurant and where they were now.

As they made their way towards the parking lot, (Y/n) could feel her arm brush against his. “You know, I was going to offer to even walk you back to your house” Evan spoke up. “But then I realized, I didn’t know where you live” he continued as he looked to his left.

“Very subtle” she laughed as she looked back at him. “Just a few minutes from here actually.” she added as they entered the parking lot. Fidgeting with the car keys in her hand she felt Evan’s fingers brushing against her hand.

“This is me” she smiled, pointing at the blue Mini Cooper and unlocked the car with a click on her car key. With his eyebrows furrowed, he looked at the car and back to the girl he had spent hours talking with inside the bar. “Not what you expected?” she reacted as she waited for him to speak up.

A laugh rolled off his lips. “It’s just.. I didn’t..” he couldn’t even finish his sentence, because he didn’t know what he would’ve expected otherwise. “Because if you were expecting me to drive a Toyota Prius, I’m not that kind of girl.” she teased him, as he was finding the right words.

His fingers traced over his chin, as he was thinking of what to say. “Apparently you’re a blue mini cooper kind of girl” he concluded as he pointed at the car. “Are you making fun of me?” she shot back as she took a step closer.

She could feel her breathing becoming slower and deeper. “Me? Oh I wouldn’t dare..” he said as he took a step closer, closing the distance between each other.

She could feel his deep breaths on her skin. Their noses almost touching each other. “Evan..” she sighed as she felt his hand brush over her shoulder, getting rid of the strands of hair. “(Y/n)..” his soft voice said. As the hand traced from her shoulder to the side of her face. Slightly wandering over her cheek.

“We shouldn’t..” she breathed as she felt his fingers touch hers. Their faces are dangerously close to one another. “Tell me we’re just friends..” he whispered as his hand went from touching fingers to grabbing her hand, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. As the thumb of his other hand brushed over her cheek. “I can’t..” she said softly as she leaned in to the touch of his thumb.

She felt him leaning closer and closer, as she turned away her head, making a bee-line for his cheek. Her warm lips touched the soft, stubbled side of his face. “Goodnight, Buck”

******

Evan was sure his heart just dropped from his chest down to his feet. It was her. It was his own girlfriend, trapped in her blue Mini Cooper that was flipped upside down.

Without thinking clearly, he ran down the oblique concrete blocks. His voice screaming her name, making his throat hurt from the loudness and his legs were moving faster than his head at this point.

He didn’t know how many times her name fell off his lips, he needed her to react. To give her some sign of life.

He let himself fall down onto his knees next to the driver's side as he tried to get a visual of (Y/n). The glass windows were broken in the crash, the opening where the glass window used to be, was pancaked a few inches smaller because of the rolls it made over the concrete blocks.

It was smaller than usual, the window. But he could see her.

Cuts and bruises were spread over her face, and the blood from those wounds were smeared all over her face. “I see her!” he yells at his team as he stands up and backs away from the door so Eddie could break open the door. Eddie places the halligan he was holding between the door and the frame of the car, trying to open the jammed door.

He popped the door open, and not even a second later, Evan wormed himself through the door opening of the driver's side.

His eyes fell onto the blood on her face, dripping off her face and onto the inside part of the roof. A large stain of blood had appeared on the roof fabric, meaning she had lost a lot of blood, but he could see the blood still dripping from her head. “Looks like she has lost a lot of blood!” he concluded.

In the meanwhile, Hen had squeezed herself through the passenger's side of the car, placing her fingers against (Y/n)’s neck. “Her pulse is racing!” Hen says as Evan scanned the environment, seeing her leg being pinned between her seat and the dashboard. “Leg is pinned between the dashboard and the seat! Possible broken leg.” Evan says.

Evan could hear Bobby commanding the others of the team to go and get the hydraulic spreaders. But he needed her to open her eyes, give him some sign of life. “(Y/n)? Can you hear me?” He asks as he softly patted his fingertips against her cheek, trying to get her conscious again.

Hen in the meanwhile, got a c-collar and put it around (Y/n)’s neck. “Please, open your eyes” Evan begged her. She was still there. He knew she was.

A groan left her mouth as she could hear his voice in the back of her mind, with her ears still ringing of the blow from the airbag.

Her eyes felt heavy, almost like there was someone trying to push them down again. As if someone didn’t want her to wake up. She fought the feeling of her eyelids closing, but she couldn’t. It felt like all her energy was being sucked out of her body.

So she needed to find her voice, and use it. “Leg..” she groaned as she felt the stinging pain in her leg become worse within the second. Evan’s eyes grew wide as he heard her soft, quiet voice through his ears.

“Hey, hey, hey! We’ve got you” He tried to keep her calm. “I need that spreader over here!” Buck said towards his team. But just as those words left his mouth, Eddie came over with the spreaders and Hen left the passenger’s side to get to the ambulance and get out the gurney.

“Okay, (Y/n).. this might hurt” Eddie says as he placed the spreaders between the chair and dashboard so the tool can push the dashboard away from the seat and her leg. Evan took off his turnout jacket as he held it as some kind of shield in front of her body and face.

She placed her hand onto a part of Evan’s leg, curling up the fabric of his turnout pants in between her fingers.

Just as an inch of the dashboard was pushed away from her leg, she felt a heavy, painful shot of pain going through her leg. She could feel the tears because of the pain welling up in her eyes as she let out a loud scream.

The scream that left her lips went through Evan’s bones, he wanted to do anything to take her pain away. With every scream her hand became stronger and pulled more and more the fabric of the turnout pants.

Multiple squeals, and screams later, her leg was free.

He felt her hand loosen her grip on his pants. Evan threw aside his turn out coat as he crouched down to finally get her body out of the upside down position she was in. But when he called out her name, to get her attention. She didn’t react.

Panic started to build inside of his body as he could feel his heart stop. There was this pressure on his chest, telling him that this wasn’t good. “(Y/n)?” he called out her name again. But as he placed his two fingers in the crook of her neck, his gut feeling was right.

She didn’t have a pulse.

“I can’t find her pulse!” he yelled, as he could feel his soul leaving his body. No. This wasn’t happening. In the middle of Evan’s panic, he could vaguely hear Bobby shouting orders, and that was when Eddie entered the passengers side. “We got you” he tried to reassure himself but also the woman in the seat.

They didn’t have time now to go and splint her leg. They needed to cut her loose and start CPR.

With his eyes locked on Eddie, he watched and heard him countdown. Eddie was holding a seatbelt cutter in his hand as Evan’s hands held both her shoulders, ready to guide her down. “One.. two.. three” Eddie’s voice counted down as he cut through the fabric of the seatbelt. Evan guided her body down, so she would land on her back. They straightened her body so Evan could carry her out through the driver’s side.

It was horrifying. Seeing someone talking and breathing and within the snap of a finger, she was unconscious and in cardiac arrest.

He placed his arms underneath her arm pits and pulled her out through the driver’s side. He guided her neck and head and placed it gently onto the backboard. Evan let himself fall onto his knees as he interlaced his right hand on top of his left hand. “Starting compressions!” he called out as he started pumping up and down his fiancé’s chest.

“Buck” Bobby’s voice spoke from behind him, as he felt a hand being placed on his shoulder. But he made a turn with his arm, telling him quietly to get off. He was busy. Saving the love of his life. “Twenty five, twenty six..” he breathed through the chest compressions.

“Buck..” Bobby said again, but this time with a more commanding tone. But he ignored it. Again. He knew he had a team of paramedics around him. He knew he could’ve just asked Hen, Eddie or Chimney to take over. But he felt the urge, a responsibility to do it himself. He needed to know what he did all he could to save her.

But that chance of saving her was taken away from him when he felt two arms gripping his upper arms, pulling him away from the lifesaving actions he was doing.

A cry left his mouth, “No! I need to save her!” he screamed. The visual he had of her, was becoming smaller and smaller every feet he was being dragged back. He could see Hen taking over the chest compressions. He wanted to break free from the grip someone was holding him in. But Bobby jumped in front of him, trying to calm him down, blocking his view of his girl.

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. All the screams, all the people running around him. And he couldn’t do anything. Every single thing Bobby said, didn’t even enter his mind. As if he was muted.

“I got a pulse!” Hen’s voice entered his mind, and just as he heard those four simple words. He lost it. He stopped fighting. The arms around his upper arms slowly loosened, as he didn’t fight back.

He saw Chimney and Eddie carrying the backboard with her on it, placing it on the gurney and racing down the asphalt towards the ambulance. As he watched her being wheeled away, he could feel his knees caving in.

“Buck? Are you alright?” Bobby asks as he tries to get some kind of contact with his team member he was standing eye to eye with But the firefighter didn’t react. His eyes were locked onto that gurney, and didn’t leave its sight.

His knees buckled as he fell down onto his knees. Just as his knees wanted to connect with the asphalt beneath his feet, two arms were curled up around his arms. He could breathe again, as if the blockage inside his airways were being taken away and he could take a proper breath again. He held onto Bobby’s arms as tears rolled down his cheeks.

She was alive.

_____

There she was, connected to all those wires and tubes. Both her left arm and left leg were casted. Her arm was in a sling, it was a cruel sight, something you even didn’t wish your worst enemy to happen.

Evan had been sitting in those horrible hospital chairs, sitting next to the side of her bed, silent. Hoping that some kind of miracle would make her breathe on her own.

With his hands clasped together dangling between his legs, his eyes shot at the door as he felt the presence of someone in the door opening.

“Hey, I came as soon as I could” the voice of Evan’s sister sounded through his ears. He saw Maddie stepping over the threshold, already with her arms wide open, ready to give him a hug.

Evan stood up as she pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. He had no tears left to cry, he wrapped his arms around his sister's body as he buried his face into the crook of her neck.

After a few counts she loosened her grip and pulled back from the hug.

“What happened? Is she okay?” Maddie asked two questions at once. Evan looked down to the ground. “I don’t know” he silently whispered.

All they knew right now was that she was stable. She had a broken arm, a broken femur, multiple cuts and bruises over her body and a concussion. And the worst sight of it all, was her being connected to a ventilator.

Two minutes and forty seconds. That’s how long her heart stopped on scene.

The doctors put her in a medically induced coma and connected her to a ventilator to minimize the injury to the brain.

He wished he had never had to see this. It was horrible to see the one you loved with a tube down her throat and a machine doing all the work. The beeping inside the hospital room wasn't really helping Evan to calm down.

His breathing was shaky as he searched for the right words. “W-we got a call about a pile up… Then dispatch told us there was another woman stuck.” He tried to explain, with a trembling voice.

“(Y/n)” Maddie concluded as she kept her eyes on her little brother, whose hands were starting to shake as a leaf. A broken “yes” fell off his lips, as Maddie placed her hands onto her brother’s. Telling him she was there for him, that it was okay to be scared of the unknown.

“She wasn’t in the pile up Maddie.” His slightly less trembling voice was sounding through the room. He was on the edge of crying, again. He wasn’t sure how many tears he had wiped away from his cheek in the last hours. “She was in front of it.” He added as he looked down to his hands.

“I just.. wished I would’ve found out sooner.” He said as his eyes wandered back to (Y/n). Breathing in the oxygen that came from the ventilator. Evan feels one of Maddie’s hands being placed onto his upper arm as she shortly rubbed her hand up and down.

There was a silence between the siblings. Maddie let go of Evan’s hand and his upper arm as her gaze went to (Y/n). Slowly she walked towards the right side of the bed, as her brother took place on the other side.

He watched his sister take her hand and gently rubbed her thumb over the top of (Y/n)’s IV’ed hand. He could see the tears welling up in Maddie’s eyes. “I still remember the first time when I introduced you two to each other..” Maddie’s voice sounded quite dreamy but ended with a small sob.

Through the small amount of tears, a small laugh fell off his lips. Of course she had to bring that up. It was in the exact same hospital as they were in right now. Not the kind of location you’d think of to meet the love of your life.

******

With in his right hand a tray filled with two to-go cups and in his other hand a small pink box, he stepped out the elevator as soon as the bell rang. Letting him know that he had reached the level where his sister was staying the last few days.

At first she was staying in a hospital in Big Bear, but all she wanted was to get out of that hell hole that reminded her of her dead ex-husband she killed out of self defense. She needed to go to Los Angeles and did whatever it took to be transferred to the same hospital as Chimney.

Even though his sister told him that she was fine, and he didn’t need to visit her that often. He still came over during visitor hours, he didn’t care if she told him not to. Evan needed to see for himself that she was fine. He knew Doug was dead, but it killed him from the inside that he wasn’t there to protect her when she needed him.

He walked through the hospital hallways, the atmosphere here was always so chilly. Everything was white, the employees were always dressed in scrubs: pink, green, blue, navy blue, even black.

Not the kind of location you wanted to spend your days inside. Even though Evan came here multiple times a day sometimes to drop someone off at the emergency room, he’d rather be somewhere else. You’d think as a firefighter you’ll be working more with burning buildings. But believe it or not, overall there are more medical calls than actual fires.

Evan took another turn, and finally got his eyes on the room where his sister was in. With his gaze locked on the to go cups, keeping an eye on the cups so he wouldn’t accidentally spill any of the drinks. He stepped over the threshold.

“Hey Maddie I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I-” he stopped mid-sentence as his eyes scanned the room. Realizing that there was another person in the room. “Oh- I didn’t know you had a visitor” he stumbled awkwardly.

The girl gave him a small, but gentle smile. Evan on the other hand, was tongue tied.

“Oh it’s okay Buck, I wanted to introduce you two anyways. So you can finally visualize a face to all the stories” Maddie says as she pointed at the stranger and back to him. Evan furrowed his brow, so she had told him stories with her name in it before.

He placed the two to go cups and the paper bag he had onto the small table next to his sister’s bed. He wiped his hands clean quickly on his thighs, getting rid of the warmth on his hands.

“(Y/n), this is my little brother Evan.” Maddie says as her eyes wander from (Y/n) back to Evan. The name sounded so familiar to him. He had heard that name before, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“And Evan, this is my colleague (Y/n)” Maddie continued. He stepped closer to the colleague of his sister and held out his hand. She placed her hand into his as she shook it. “Buck, nobody really calls me Evan.” He corrected Maddie.

“Buck..” she repeated him, his name fell softly off her lips. “I heard some great things about you.” she continued as she gave him another smile. A smile that made him weak at the knees. She had one of those smiles that made the rest of the world smile too.

“Oh no.. what did she tell you?” Panic was slightly building up in his chest, Evan knew that Maddie sometimes would give too much information. ”If she told you about stealing evidence from the police-” he added, as he gets interrupted by his sister.

“Wait, you stole evidence?” she asked with a confused expression projected on her face. Evan turned towards his sister. “I thought you knew?” Maddie shook her head with that same expression still on her face. Wow he was really making a fool out himself now.

There was a silence between the siblings.

“Anyways.. for example during the earthquake, when you guys helped save a man and a woman from the tilted building. Pretty impressive.” She spoke. Trying to make things right again. “Just doing my job” Evan smiles as he places his hand on the back of his neck.

“She helped at one of your calls during Christmas, the overworked guy who ended up in a box?” Maddie jumped in on the conversation. “There was a dispatcher that kept calling the man’s phone for the team to find him.” She added, trying to help her brother to refresh his mind.

His eyes grew wider; he knew he had heard her voice before. “That was you?” He asks, pointing at her. “The one and only” she laughed. Evan wasn’t sure if she was laughing because of the surprised reaction he gave or the fact that he looked like some kind of fanboy.

“That action of yours saved us so much time. That was insanely smart.” He complimented her as his eyes wandered from her addictive smile towards her eyes. He noticed her looking down to the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m just.. trying my best. But really, you guys are the real heroes though. We’re just sitting behind a desk answering calls” she says. But Evan didn't quite share that opinion. They needed dispatch. Without them they were just some confused firefighters, not knowing where to go and what the situation was. They could see things that the firefighters couldn’t when they were on scene.

“Nonsense, your job is as important as mine. You are our eyes in the skies.” Evan said.

What was this? A compliment challenge? Who can give the most compliments wins?

A shy smile appeared on her face, (Y/n) could feel her cheeks burning. Almost blushing. Compliments like that she gets from her co-workers, never from anyone who wasn't a dispatcher.

As if everything in the room had disappeared and they were the only two left. The two of them just stared at each other. Evan wasn’t sure for how long, but Maddie broke the silence in the room by clearing her throat.

When Maddie cleared her throat, it worked like a finger snap. Snapping (Y/n) right out of her thoughts. “Anyways! It was really good to finally meet you. Evan- I mean Buck.” She corrected herself.

She hung her purse over her shoulder as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as soon as she stood up straight again. ”But I have to go.. feed.. my cat.” She stumbled, (Y/n) gave Maddie and her brother a quick goodbye as she left the room.

Evan’s eyes followed the woman out of the room, even when she left the room he followed her movements through the window. “You think she’s cute, don’t you?” Maddie’s voice made way through his eardrums, getting him back to reality.

“What? No! No.” His voice was defensive at first, but at the second denial his voice sounded more soft. Evan walked towards the table where he had placed the two to go cups and a small paper bag.

“Oh you so do..” she said as she noticed him turning his back to her to get the cups. “Maddie, you know I’m done dating first responders.. I’m not doing that again.” He stuttered as he handed his sister the right cup.

Maddie accepted the cup from her sibling and held it between her two hands. “Uhuh.. oh and.. for the record..” she started, and stopped to open the cup and threw in a small bag of sugar. “She doesn’t have a cat.” She continued, taking a sip from her coffee.

Evan shook his head as a smile appeared again on his face. His sibling was way too good at reading him.

Maddie swallowed her sip of coffee as she was already bringing the cup to her lips. “So.. when did you steal evidence? And why?” she asked as she took another sip of her coffee.

******

“I knew from the second I introduced the two of you, that you’d end up together.” Maddie stated, as she kept her eyes on the girl in the hospital bed. Evan’s eyebrows were raised, surprised his sister would say something like that. But on the other hand, it was Maddie.

Maddie’s voice kept on going on the back of Evan’s mind as he took a look at the devices his fiancé was hooked up on. Evan wasn’t much of a doctor or a paramedic, but he noticed the smallest kind of difference in the device that measured her heart rate.

His eyes wandered from the devices back to her body, he scanned her body, every sound of her heart beat, every breath.

Something is wrong” he said under his voice.

His stomach turned at the sight of his fiancé. This whole time when he looked at her, he felt fine. But right now in this moment, something felt off. He couldn’t describe what or why, he just knew.

He watched her breathing become faster within every second he spectated. Evan held out a hand towards his sister, as a stop sign, to tell her to stop talking for one second. Her breathing was as if she had run a whole marathon, while the machines were starting to beep faster with every breath she took. “She can’t breathe..” Evan said. He felt the panic rising inside his chest, but he didn’t hesitate and clicked the emergency button above her hospital bed.

He pushed himself from the side of the bed and sprinted down the room, towards the hallway. He repeated the same sentence multiple times, each time he let those words leave his mouth it became louder and louder.

Before he knew it, a few nurses came running down the hallway, aiming for (Y/n)’s hospital room. They entered the room as Evan was still standing at the door, not knowing what to do with himself.

In the meanwhile Maddie gets guided away from the bedside, so the nurses could do their job and figure out what is wrong with his girl. Maddie made a beeline for her little brother, as he could see the tears in her eyes.

He could sense his sister’s hand onto his shoulder, saying things like “she’ll be okay” and “she’s stronger than you think”. But at this moment, the sight of the nurses disconnecting her from the tubes made him question if they actually knew what they were doing.

Why were they disconnecting her? What was going on? A thousand questions were running through his mind at the same time.

“They put her on ECMO three days ago.. and now they’re already telling me that they want to get her off.” Evan said as he stood eye to eye with the window that looked over her hospital room. “Isn’t that what you wanted? For her to be healthy and to wake up again?” Eddie asks as he looks at his best friend.

Evan looked like a ghost wandering the halls of the fourth floor of the hospital. He was here day and night, at least.. until one of the nurses or doctors had to kick him out of the hospital. It was like he was stuck to that chair in the room and he drank that terrible hospital coffee.

Every now and then friends of Evan, or (Y/n) came to show their support during visiting hours. They’d bring drinks and food, they knew how horrible the drinks and food were in the hospital.

He leaned his palms onto the small frame of the window, With his eyes still locked on the window he shook his head. “But what if it’s too soon?” he said. He knew the consequences back and forth of getting someone off ECMO and out of a medically induced coma.

“They’re doctors, they know what 's best for their patients.” Eddie explained. Evan sighed, he knew Eddie was right. Eddie turned ninety degrees to the right, now fully facing the side profile of Evan. He crossed his arms as he waited for a reaction of his best friend. “There’s something else that is bothering you, isn't it?” Eddie asks.

Eddie knew him too well to miss this signal that he was giving him. Evan pushed himself up with the palm of his hands and turned towards Eddie. He scratched the back of his head. “They told me she may suffer from amnesia” he admits, keeping his eyes on Eddie. Waiting for some kind of reaction.

“You’re scared she won’t remember what happened?” Eddie asks, trying to get some more clarification. “I mean, what do I do when she won’t remember the accident? Hell, what do I do if she won’t remember me?” God he sounded so desperate. But he needed to share the questions inside of his head before it’d actually become too much for him alone to handle.

Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to find the right words to motivate and support his friend, who felt more like a brother to him, in these difficult times. “Buck..” Evan’s name fell like a sigh off his lips. But before he could even speak, Evan’s voice spoke up. “I don’t know if I can handle that Eddie.” he sounded like a sixteen year old again, doubting himself with making choices.

Eddie’s eyes softened at the sight of his best friend looking like that. As if he didn’t go through enough already. He placed his hand on Evan’s shoulder, and gave it a soft squeeze, getting his attention. “It’s going to be hard, but you can’t back out now. She’s your fiancé, and in the worst case scenario she won’t remember you. Okay, fine. It will hurt. But I’m sure, if you just love her, care for her, just like you always have done. Everything will fall into its place.”

Deep down, he knew Eddie was right. But there was this feeling of fear of the unknown inside his body, making him feel anxious with everything he did. “But is that enough?” his voice was on the edge of breaking. Eddie simply patted Evan’s shoulder as he disconnected his hand from his friend's shoulder. “I guess you’ll have to see and find that out for yourself bud.” he answered as Eddie’s eyes wandered across the hallway. He motioned with his head, Evan immediately who it was, and what was going to happen.

“Good luck” Eddie said under his breath as he made his way to leave the window of (Y/n). Just when Eddie passed Evan, he quickly patted his shoulder again.

Evan turned around to face the person who was walking towards him. “Mr Buckley” the female voice sounded. “Shall we?” she said as she held out her arm towards the entrance of the hospital room (Y/n) was in.

He took a deep breath in, trying to calm his nerves. He got this. (Y/n) has got this. They were going to be fine. Everything was going to fall into its place.

He followed the doctor and nurse into the room, as the doctor explained what the plan was and what was next. He watched the doctor and nurse do their jobs.

It could take two till twenty four hours for her to actually open her eyes. He didn’t care if he needed to wait a hundred hours for her to wake up, he would stay with her until she woke up. He didn’t want her to wake up in an empty hospital room.

Evan was tossing and turning, trying to find back a comfortable position in the chair to doze off in again. He pushed himself up, with his eyes squeezed slightly open because of the small amount of light that was peeking through.

He rubbed his eyes for a second as he tried to adjust his eyes to the brightness of the light. Getting some sleep out of the corner of his eyes that annoyed him. But just as he turned to find a comfortable spot to sleep in, he could hear a small, soft cough.

Wait he was alone right? With (Y/n)?

He shot up out his chair as his eyes wandered towards his fiancé. She was trying to breathe on her own over the tube. But the second he came closer to the bed, he could see her eyelids lift.

He couldn’t do anything but watch her, her eyes kept on opening and closing. With every time they did that, the gap between the lids became bigger and bigger. Her head rolled to the side. Evan could feel her eyes burn into his skin as she finally found him.

A wide smile spread across his face, this was where he had waited for these past days. He placed his hand onto the headboard from the hospital bed she was in and clicked on the emergency button. “Hey” he panted. He didn’t know what to say. He had waited so long, and he had so much time to think of something. But here he was, speechless.

She gasped. When she realized she couldn’t speak, her right hand wandered towards her mouth. “No, no, no” he said as he grabbed her hand and he could see the panic building in her eyes. “It’s okay, just don’t try to talk.” he says as he keeps her hand in his, placing it on his chest as he loosened his grip on her hand.

Slowly, her hand wandered from his chest towards his cheek. Her fingers tracing over his skin as he could see her eyes softening when tears filled her eyes. She remembered him.

He leaned into her touch, placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “It’s okay.. everything will fall into its place” he sighed as he grabbed her hand once more, and kissed the top of it. “I’m here” he whispered.

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine

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wagconts · 29 days ago

Text

Senna's Legacy | Charles Leclerc

summary :: where you're Senna's daughter and carry on your father's legacy through your institute

word count :: 2.320 words.

The atmosphere in the paddock during the Brazilian GP was unmistakable. Maybe it was the tropical breeze, the green and yellow flags swaying in the wind, or the unmatched passion of Brazilian fans that always made history. For you, though, this weekend had an even deeper meaning.

As Ayrton Senna’s daughter, your name carried a weight you bore with both pride and responsibility. For years, you had been at the helm of the Ayrton Senna Racing Dreams Institute, a project dedicated to supporting children with dreams of becoming Formula 1 drivers by providing education, infrastructure, and opportunities in such a selective sport.

The Brazilian GP was always a golden opportunity to promote the institute’s work. This time, however, Formula 1 had organized a special visit to the project for some of the drivers. They would pay tribute to your father and see firsthand the impact the institute had on these kids’ lives.

It was Thursday morning, the perfect day for the visit since it aligned with the institute’s busy class schedule and fit the drivers’ agendas before the race weekend. You stood in front of the building, waiting anxiously for your guests. A large panel featuring Ayrton’s face and the phrase Dreams Start Here welcomed visitors. As the black cars began to arrive, you adjusted your blazer and took a deep breath.

The first to step out were Verstappen, Norris, and Hamilton, all enthusiastic and friendly. Leclerc followed shortly after. Dressed in his Ferrari gear and wearing sunglasses that accentuated his sharp features, he smiled as he saw you.

─ You must be the mastermind behind all of this ─ said Lewis, shaking your hand firmly but kindly. ─ It’s an honor to be here.

─ Thank you all for coming ─ you replied with a warm smile. ─ I’m sure the kids are even more excited than I am to meet you.

Charles chuckled, removing his sunglasses and hooking them onto his shirt.

─ Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.

As you guided them through the institute, you explained every detail, from the racing simulators to the classrooms where kids learned English, math, and engineering concepts. The drivers listened attentively, but Charles seemed particularly interested.

─ How many kids does the program support each year? ─ he asked, watching a group using the simulators.

─ Around 200 directly ─ you answered. ─ But with our partnerships, we reach thousands in underserved communities.

Charles nodded, clearly impressed.

─ That’s incredible. Your father would be so proud.

A lump formed in your throat. Hearing such words from someone who genuinely admired Ayrton always stirred deep emotions.

After the tour, the children had their moment with the drivers. Photos, autographs, and simulator challenges turned the day into pure joy, as if everyone had reverted to childhood. Yet, Charles seemed to stick close to you the entire time.

─ Can I ask you something personal? ─ he began as you both watched the kids play.

─ Of course ─ you said, curious.

─ What’s it like carrying Ayrton’s name? It must be amazing, but also overwhelming.

You smiled softly, taking a moment to gather your thoughts.

─ It’s a mix of both. The pride is immense, but so is the constant expectation. It feels like I always have to live up to his legacy. That’s why I pour so much of myself into this institute.

Charles nodded, his gaze locked onto yours.

─ Well, from what I’ve seen today, you’re doing just that. He would be immensely proud.

The sincerity in his eyes made you look away briefly, your cheeks flushing as a smile crept across your lips.

That afternoon, Formula 1 held a tribute to your father. A float shaped like Ayrton’s iconic helmet made its way around, and Vettel led a walk with the drivers along the circuit. Watching these heartfelt gestures left you in awe, proud of everything being done to honor him.

Later, a professional filming team arrived to record a special segment where each driver would give a speech about Ayrton. Since you had been invited to observe, you stayed close enough to hear every word.

Max Verstappen spoke of how Ayrton had inspired his generation. Lewis Hamilton, visibly moved, shared how watching Senna race had ignited his passion for the sport.

When it was Charles’s turn, your heartbeat quickened.

─ I grew up hearing stories about Ayrton Senna ─ he began, holding the microphone with confidence. ─ To me, he was more than just a driver. He was the embodiment of determination, courage, and passion. Today, I had the privilege of visiting the institute led by his daughter. What she’s doing is nothing short of continuing his legacy, but in a way that touches lives on an even greater scale.

He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd until they found yours.

─ Ayrton inspired generations to dream, and his daughter is ensuring those dreams have a chance to become reality. It’s an honor to be here and witness this.

The cameraman lowered his equipment as murmurs of praise for Charles’s speech filled the room. Your heart raced, overwhelmed by the mix of emotions his words evoked—not only for being a Senna but for the way Charles had mentioned you so personally.

On Sunday, the stands at Interlagos were packed. The Brazilian fans were electric, and the energy was contagious. Before the race, Charles found you in the paddock, where you stood with some of the institute’s kids.

─ Ready to cheer me on? ─ he asked the kids in broken Portuguese he had hastily learned from a translator.

─ Yes! ─ they shouted in unison, laughing as they hugged the driver.

He straightened and turned to you.

─ I hope I can live up to the hype today.

─ Good luck, Charles. We’ll be rooting for you.

Later, at the post-race celebration, you were chatting with other guests when you felt a light touch on your arm. You didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was—the familiar scent of Charles’s cologne gave him away.

─ Can we talk? ─ he asked, his smile slightly shy.

─ Of course! ─ you replied, following him to a quieter corner.

─ I just wanted to thank you for this weekend ─ he began. ─ Visiting the institute and meeting the kids gave me a new perspective on racing.

─ I’m glad you enjoyed it ─ you said sincerely.

Charles hesitated, running a hand through his hair, clearly nervous.

─ Actually, there’s something else I wanted to say. Or, rather, ask.

─ Go ahead ─ you encouraged him.

─ Would you let me take you out to dinner? Not now, of course. But after the season ends.

His question caught you off guard, but the smile that spread across your face was answer enough.

─ I’d love that ─ you replied.

Charles’s grin widened.

─ Great. I promise it’ll be special—you won’t regret it.

─ I’ll be looking forward to it, Charles ─ you said, meeting his eyes as your heart raced.

#imagines charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc #leclerc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 #scuderia ferrari

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imaginesig · 6 months ago

Text

“I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU + Written parts

You’re Lando Norris’s little sister (18) and a spark flares up with a notable F2 driver (18) , how does everything go down?

Bonus: “I had the best day with you today”

I wanted to state that as I’m writing this I am 17 years old, on top of that I am an American. I do not know how to be 17/18 as a Brit so I did a bit of research but I’m not 100% confident. I gave Y/n an internship bc I assumed she’d be at the end of her secondary schooling. Sorry if that’s wildly off base.

~~~

A laugh erupted from my chest as a balled up sucky note made contact with Kimi’s forehead. I quickly grab my takeout lid to block his response attack. Only when I heard the ball make contact with the plastic did I relax my shield. On the other side, Kimi laid out on my hotel bed in sleep pants and a racing sweatshirt. His messy curls barely moved as he laughed. The soft light of the hotel lamp illuminated the scene like some kind of dream.

In here, it was a dream. No pressure, loud engines, cruel media, or annoying deadlines tainting the scene. It was authentic; our looks to each other were obvious, no sneaky glances.

In one smooth motion I moved from the desk chair to the opposite side of the bed from him. Propped up on my side, I mustered my best reporter voice, “So Mr. Antonelli, you've touched down in beautiful Barcelona a few hours ago and are gearing up for the weekend. The Spanish Grand Prix is known for its special conditions: corners of varying speeds, high chance of tyre wear, and many openings for overtakes. How confident are you in the car for this weekend? Any good strategies in the works to take advantage of rough tyre conditions the other teams will face?

Kimi and I laughed so hard we both turned red, “Well Ms. Norris it looks like someone’s done their homework.”

“It is my job” I shrug, “I also just love turn 9. I quite literally look forward to it every year.”

“Of course you love the hard one,” Kimi pulled his arm out from under his weight and fell into the bed.

“No sir, you have to go. Dont get comfortable,” I said.

“Y/n” kimi whines.

“No,” I laugh, “you need to go back to your own room.” With a huff and a few more comments Kimi is reminded of the reality outside of the hotel room, one where he has to return to his own room and wake up alone. With a hug and kiss, Kimi is on his way and I turn back to start cleaning up. Next to the takeout trash, my work bag also lays unpacked. I fall into a steady rhythm of tidying before bed while my mind wanders off to my secret relationship.

Kimi and I got together right before this season started. We met last season at a couple of different Motorsport events and spent the season getting closer. Then we spent the offseason working through the new depth added to our friendship. And now, we’re navigating unforgiving media who might not take our relationship too well and potentially ruin it.

With a yawn I finish up my task and head to bed. I go to turn off my bedside lamp and notice a goodnight message from Kimi.

~~~

yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris, user1, and 918,289 others

yn_norris: Barcelona, you have kept me busy 🥴

tagged: no one

Lilyzneimer my busy bee!! Best gp watch buddy ever, you always keep me updated with the top info 💖💖

yn_norris love you sm 💖💖 thank you for letting the teammates sister join you

user1 my fav intern 😍😍

user2 she always delivers 👏👏

user8 and grinds until the end everyday

landonorris wow I don’t even get shown, I’m hurt

yn_norris I completely flooded my stories with celebrations and you when you won. This is my moment

landonorris proud of your work always!!

yn_norris🫶🫶🫶

martagarcialopez19 pleasure to be interviewed by you!!

maya_weug lovely panel❤️🏎️

hamdaalqubaisi_official women in motorsports forever!!

user3 I love how Y/n and Lando always have 2 comment threads with varying emotions under every post

user4 KIMI IN THE LIKES???

user5 he stays in her likes

user6 tbh most of the F2/F1 academy drivers are, between her being Landos little sister and covering them the most with her job/internship they’ve gotten familiar

user7 exactly, even her and Ollie Bearman have reported they talk and could consider themselves in a friendship

user8 Abbi Pulling and Hamda Al Qubaisi have been known to hang out with Y/n apart from the track

~~~

It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, Spain. I was so thankful I was able to take a few remote work days so I’d be able to stay another day and explore. It all worked out perfectly because both my brother and his teammate invited me to join their exploration and Kimi was able to get a late flight.

With the sun shining and birds singing I made my way down a less crowded street and was met by my boyfriend snapping photos of the scenery around him. I decide to quicken my pace and give him a hug.

“Hello there,” he says surprised. A chuckle escapes his mouth once he’s turned around to reciprocate the affection.

“Hi,” I smile. I look around as he pulled back and saw the iconic kissing mural surrounded by greenery, “wow.”

“Pretty right,” he says.

“Beautiful,” I gush,”let’s get a photo.” Kimi nods and I set my phone up to record a video to screen record to screen shot from since there was no one around at the early hour.

“How do you wanna pose?”

“Let’s kiss and really be that couple, you know,” I joke.

“Come here then,” the warm air and slight breeze made the moment feel like a fairytale. The world melted away as I enjoyed the sweet kiss. For a moment it felt like we were out to the world. But when the kiss ended, I felt disappointment that no one has seen us. Part of me grew restless with the secret keeping, “I found a really cute place for breakfast I think you’ll like it.”

We walked hand in hand down the quiet streets, passing by locals going through their morning chores. Soon enough we arrived at a small restaurant and were sat outside. Concealed by aged buildings, the place itself was low traffic and gave up peace of mind.

“Smile,” I look back towards Kimi from the surrounding scenery to see him holding up his camera. We took a couple of different shots before returning to conversation.

“I had the weirdest feeling earlier,” I start. Kimi looks a little concerned, “when we took that kissing photo I wanted someone to see. I wanted our relationship to get out.”

“I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s been and is so nice to have our little bubble, but part of me just wants to be and not worry about the when and where.”

“Exaclty my feelings. I’m glad we’re talking about this, let’s let the idea sit for a little while longer and then we can come up with a plan. I’m scared to rush into an announcement and not be ready for the outcome.” Kimi agrees and we fall into other topics of conversation over breakfast. After we go to an outdoor market and look around. I purchase some trinkets for other interns at the office who cover other sports. As the air slowly got hotter, Kimi’s time with me got shorter. Eventually it was time to take him back to the hotel to take a ride to the airport. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call me when he landed.

I quickly traveled to the lunch spot my brother informed me to meet the group at. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the scenery, taking cool photos, and just enjoying each others company since extra days like this were scarce.

Too soon the sun went down and our activities ended. Back in my hotel room I worked in the soft lamplight and prepared for my flight back to reality tomorrow.

~~~

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, lilyzniemer, user91, and 928,827 others

oscarpiastri: pro tip: never explore with the Norris siblings, they’ll make a scene everywhere

tagged: lilyzneimer, landonorris, yn_norris

yn_norris ummm this is embarrassing you seemed to have misspelled “Y/n thank you so much for the adorable pic of me and Lily! Thankfully your skill is far superior to your brothers so I was able to post one”

landonorris you twat

yn_norris I mean he didn’t post yours so…

oscarpiastri that’s it I’m getting a restraining order on you guys

landonorris we only made a couple…

oscarpiastri yea bc Y/n was only with us a few hours

user1 LMAO THE BIKE PHOTO

user2 they were ready to square up

yn_norris I kicked his ass

user2 OMG SHE REPLIED

user3 everytime I see a Y/n and Lily interaction it always gives little and big sis🥹

user4 omg ikr!! It makes me so happy that even though her bio sisters aren’t able to be with her 24/7 she has someone at gps and such

user5 what I wouldn’t give to explore the world with this group

kimi.antonelli

Liked by user4, yn_norris, olliebearman, and 819,728 others

Kimi.antonelli: Barcelona, beautiful as always 👏

tagged:no one

olliebearman 💪💪

Prema_team glad to see the weekend allowed for relaxation 😎

user1 happy with the results this weekend!!

user2 ok scenic shot

user3 Kimi is coming for Y/n with the digital camera effect

user4 I wonder why it’s only on the last photo tho?

user5 maybe this is where she was when she wasn’t with the McLaren boys…

user6 ok grandma get back to bed

Yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, abbiepulling, and 718,828 others

Yn_norris: España, mi amor

Tagged: lilyzniemer

oscarpiatri so glad my gf make the post and I didn’t

yn_norris cry me a river

landonorris who took the first pic you don’t have any friends other than me 🤨🤨

yn_norris choke

carlossainz55 always love your love of Spain 🇪🇸♥️

yn_norris with every bit of my heart!!

Riabish gorgeous!!

abbiepulling travel looks gorgeous on you

yn_norris 💋💋

user1 she ate this up

user2 first pic >>>>>

yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I get door dashed coffee even when he’s thousands of miles away 🫶🫶

Replies:

landonorris

who what when where why

idk, it’s coffee for those of us who don’t have the energy of a seven year old, this morning, my office, bc I’m loved

wdym “idk”

Y/n are you soft launching?? Your own brother doesn’t get to know before Instagram

I have a plan no fear

🙄

Kimi.antonelli

I’ve discovered you can special order a message or simple drawings through the app too

I can see that

so be prepared, there’s so much more where than came from

as much as I love this and would love to see what you come up with, I can get my own coffee

not happening

lmao ok

Not my hill to die on

I love you

I love you too, have a great day

Oscarpiastri

your bother is pacing

Lmao good

Let him squirm

Yes ma’am 🫡

~~~

The smell of exhaust fills my senses and V6s roar across the track. Lando and I were currently camped out in the Prema garage with our eyes glued to the screen. We let out a few comments and had mini conversations throughout.

When Kimi’s car cross the finish line the enter building jumped up. As the crew and engineers all ran out to the baraxade. I decided do lead Lando over where the podium is interviewed before the cool down room so we don’t interrupt team celebrations. We stand meters away so we don’t bother anyone but I still might be able to sent Kimi a thumbs up and a wink.

“I didn’t know you two got so close,” Lando mused as we still admits the buzzing padock.

“Well you know through other friends I’ve made from tagging alone to events and races with you we were bound to meet, especially with him being Ollies teammate this season,” Lando nods at that. “So how are you feeling about your race, the home ones always a big deal.”

“I’m super excited, but the nerves of potentially messing things up are there,” he confesses, “I want to win really bad.”

“Call it reporter’s gut but I feel-“ suddenly I was cut off my someone yelling my name.

“Y/n!” Kimi is sprinting over to us. So much for not making a scene, I think.

“Kimi! You did it!” I yelled back. Soon, he was a meter away and not stopping. I was grabbed along with him and brought a couple steps away as he slowed down. Before I could even comprehend the previous action, Kimi let out another victory cheer, grabbed my face, and kissed me in the middle of the paddock. The adrenaline and joy from his win charged the kiss from both ends. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. All those kisses in hotel room or hidden corners of the world were put to shame, this was the kiss. I was so focused on the moment that I didn’t remember that there were eyes on us everywhere, including the eyes of my brother.

“Y/n- I- What!” Lando stuttered with wide eyes. He still stood in our previous spot and seemed to be stuck there. After a moment of staring back, I realized my hands had come up to rest on Kimi’s biceps.

I quickly jumped back before turning to look at Kimi again, “Hey, I’m so proud! We can catch up and all that later. Go do your media stuff, I love you.” I wave him off and walk back to Lando, “before you say anything we need to talk privately.”

Once we find a quiet place I begin explains everything, “And that’s brings us up to now. We had a plan to slow launch and then during that time we hoped to tell family and close friends before anyone else. I swear this weekend was the one-“ he cut me off.

“Y/n don’t worry, I can tell the adrenaline got to him,” he smirks, “I know the feeling well.”

“Ew, ew Lando please stop there,” I cringe. “Are you sure you’re not mad? It wasn’t supposed to come out this way, especially not to you.”

“I’m fine. Granted I only saw a few seconds of that this relationship is but any man who’s gonna come running to you after a race before even heading to a mandatory interview or cool down then he’s a good one. Also you can’t fool me, your eyes lit up and you forgot I was even next to you when he showed up. I’m happy for you,” Lando pulled me into a bear hug.

“I love you Lan.”

“I love you too,” he pulled back and added,” but mum might be so give her a ring before she finds out.”

We both laugh before I FaceTime the family group chats for round 2 of explaining.

~~~

f1updates

Liked by user82, user282, user1, and 173,827 others

f1updates: After his first F2 win, Kimi Antonelli kisses Lando Norris’s little sister in the middle of the paddock! Videos from multiple sources have been reposted on our Twitter account.

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, yn_norris

used1 WHAT

user2 this was not on my 2024 bingo card

used3 after watching the videos it was right out of a romance movie

user4 the way he sprinted to her while ignoring everything else

user5 lando’s face killed me

user6 he was just as shocked as we are

kimi.antonelli

liked by yn_norris, user43, prema_racing, and 918,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: maiden win anyone??

tagged: prema_racing, mercadesamgf1, yn_norris

yn_norris “where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me” 🤭🤭

Kimi.antonelli ❤️❤️

landonorris 😑

yn_norris fuck off

prema_racing that’s our boy 👏🏆

User1 KIMI IS A RACE WINNER

user2 anyone else absolutely die when he kissed her

user3 yea I think Lando almost did

user4 Y/n’s comment 😭😭

carlossainz55 the last pic 🤨

danielriccardo so it is true

landonorris OF COURSE ITS TRUE A VIDEO HAS BEEN TRENDING ON TWITTER

Carlossainz55 honestly I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying but he could be worse

landonorris mate.

danielriccardo I say shovel talk before his next race see how he celebrates then

yn_norris no no no yall are done scheming in my boyfriends comment section

~~~

The British Grand Prix had been a rollercoaster for the younger Norris who sat in the coverage of the McLaren garage watching the race. Kimi and I had sent a few messages about the race but since Lando lost his lead during his pit in lap 40 I have been zoned in. I’ve been praying since Lewis passed that something would happen, that by a miracle Lando would regain his lead. Unfortunately as the laps dwindled, Lando lost time between the winner and in lap 49 Max had successfully overtaken him. Sighs and cuss words could be heard all throughout the building. My head fell into my hands as I watched the race though hooded eyelids, weight down with sadness.

When the race was over I slowly took the same path Lando and I had taken yesterday towards the media area. I flashed by badge once again and found a stop on the r of the action. Eventually, Lando made his way to Jensen and completed his interview.

“Hey,” I said empathetically as I pulled him into a hug. “I know you hate this and I know you’re upset. Lando, you hold yourself to the highest standard imaginable, but please know you did great. Third place is still a handful of points and now you’ve gotten more experience so you and the team can make better calls in the future. This wasn’t a race that you could predict, you had to roll with the punches and you did. I’m so proud of you and now I have a new trophy I can steal for my future apartments decor!”

Lando let out a loud chuckle before he hit me on the head, “you’re not getting my trophies you muppet.”

“That’s what you think,” I fired back before he pulls me into another hug, this one more playful than the last. I waved him off to the cool down room and said a quick congratulations to Lewis before heading to get a spot with McLaren for the podium ceremony.

~~~

landonorris

Liked by yn_norris, user3, mclaren, and 819,928 others

landonorris: Silverstone I love you, my sister not so much ❤️ congrats on the win @/lewishamilton, we’ll review, do better, and come get you next time 😜

Tagged: lewishamilton

yn_norris I cried real tears @/lewishamilton

yn_norris you fought hard, it was entertaining race. Love you to the moon and back🫶🫶

landonorris love you to the moons and back twice 🫶

user1 HELLO?? THIS IS TO SWEEET

used2 with no warning either 😭😭

yn_norris also for the record I did nothing

Kimi.antonelli ok now I said I was sorry

user3 why war McLarens strategy all messed up this week

Kimi.antonelli great driving today 💪

landonorris 😑

yn_norris lando try that again.

landonorris 👍

user4 you still did great!!

user5 lmao the jab at Y/n 😭😭

yn_norris

liked by danielriccardo, olliebearman, user88, and 198,828 others

yn_norris big weekend :)

tagged: landonorris, kimi.antonelli

landonorris big weekend? BIG WEEKEND? THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??

yn_norris I mean a lot happened

danielriccardo I think that trophy was kissed better than you

yn_norris 🙄✋

Kimi.antonelli love you ♥️

yn_norris love you too ♥️

user1 her and Lando 🥹🥹

olliebearman thanks for the support on your off weekend 👏👏

yn_norris anytime care bear

user2 “care bear” IM CRYING YN YOU CANT DO MY MAN LIKE THAT

user3 the McLaren flag slays so hard

kimi.antonelli

Liked by yn_norris, landonorris, used928, and 727,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: I owe an apology to Y/n for ruining our soft launch on a whim, Lando for doing it front of you, and my family for not telling you guys sooner. But that’s all besides the point because I can finally say LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND

tagged: yn_norris

yn_norris omg I love you ♥️

Kimi.antonelli I love you more ♥️

user1 the uppercase at the end he’s so cute 😭😭

user2 you can tell he’s so excited

oscarpiastri so does the Barcelona photo prove that’s who Y/n was with that morning?

landonorris no shot they snuck around right under my nose

Kimi.antonelli no comment

yn_norris not my fault you’re an idiot who doesn’t ask enough questions

landonorris oh just you wait for my questions now

Oscarpiastri oh look now you’ve opened Pandora’s box y/n

carlossainz55 I guess I like you

Kimi.antonelli that’s comforting?

Carlossainz55 be happy it’s not hate

yn_norris he’s a tad bit overprotective

danielriccardo you’ve got balls kid, I respect it

Kimi.antonelli thank you 😁

user3 pls not this summoning all of Landos old teammates

user4 guess he’s not the only one they’ve grown attatched to

landonorris this is cute ig

Kimi.antonelli I’m taking this as a win

yn_norris don’t act all grumpy on main

yn_norris

liked by Danielriccardo, user817, Kimi.antonelli, and 817,828 others

yn_norris: “this night is sparkling, don’t you let it go”

tagged: Kimi.antonelli

Kimi.antonelli fav taylor song 🫶🫶

yn_norris see aren’t you glad I made you listen to it

user1 Kimi is an Enchanted stan???

landonorris wtf is that last picture

yn_norris 🤷🏼‍♀️

user2 I love them so much 😭😭

User3 she dedicated Enchanted to him?? Girlie is in deep

Carlossainz55 does he make you happy?

danielriccardo this is is a very important question

yn_norris very 🥰

landonorris cancel the plans guys

Kimi.antonelli I’m scared

yn_norris

Liked by lilyzniemer, user4, carlossainze55, and 981,828 others

yn_norris: he’s family approved ☀️😌

tagged: Kimi.antontelli

Kimi.antonelli Aunt Y/n 😍

landonorris absolutely not

danielriccardo I’m watching you

carlossainz55 stop right there

yn_norris do you guys always materialize in time to ruin the fun 😒

oscarpiastri 👶🚫

yn_norris OSCAR YOU TOO???

Landonorris take that helmet off her now, Uncle Lala’s is the only one allowed

yn_norris possessive much

user1 I can never tell how Lando feels about Kimi

user2 right mixed signals much? He bullies him in insta comments but openly supports him irl

user3 speaking from personal experience, that’s just him being an annoying older brother

lilyzniemer the matching outfits 🥰🥰

abbiepulling they are too cute!!!

yn_norris I love you both 🫶🫶

#f1 #f1 imagines #f2 #f2 x reader #formula 2 #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli imagine #kimi antonelli #formula 1 smau #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader

591 notes · View notes

the-saltiest-saltine · 1 year ago

Text

Reservations and Repose

(Yan!Chrollo x Fem Reader)

@sukunasfavoritehole hopefully this is enough to tide you over until my ao3 finally gets an update hehe

Word count: ~7.3k

------

You’re naïve enough to believe Chrollo’s asleep. He loves that about you.

Warnings: NOT SFW, non -con thigh fucking, somnophilia, drugging, imagined not sfw scenarios etc

a/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IT WAS 3/4 FINISHED THEN I FORGOT ABOUT IT my sincerest apologies.

Also this is my first time writing smut so please go easy on me 😥

Chrollo is very disappointed in you.

You let him kiss your cheek this morning following a deep sleep. You didn’t reciprocate, though he continues to see your progress and knows that an ever-hopeful yet can be added to the end of that statement. To some extent, the allowance of such an act could be chalked up to his acceptance of you, flaws and all, willing to appreciate the neutrality of it as opposed to ardent rejection. In a matter of weeks, you’ll be returning the gesture. And in a matter of months, you’ll be doing it gladly. Warmth, or perhaps weariness, has slowly but surely seeped its way into your actions recently, your shaky hands finding a place in his, fingers interlaced.

Is that to say he was under the impression that you’d completely given yourself to him? Absolutely not. There’s fear in your smiles, as much as they may have metamorphosed from obviously and mockingly forced to meek and endearing. Chrollo has shown you all that you know he can do. This has been enough to keep you relatively restrained over the months. If he showed you all that he knows he can do, you’d most likely curl up into a ball and sob until you dried out. That’s not necessary, though. It’ll never be.

Like many things, it wasn’t linear. It was a path that went upwards and downwards and forwards and backwards and in cycles, cycles that would always leave you curled up, sobbing in his arms, grasping onto him for whatever comfort it would give. But progress is progress, right?

Ignorantly, he began to believe the crumbs of affection, of acceptance, of acquiescence. Stupidly, he thought you were making progress. It’s been a significant amount of time since he was last this naïve. If he wasn’t so disgruntled by your transgression, he’d most likely bask in the nostalgic feeling. But he can’t, for the time being, because you’re trying to do something very rash.

As unfortunate as it is, you’re trying to leave him.

It’s audacious, having thought that the monumental power difference between you two had been thoroughly demonstrated on multiple occasions, a well established and silently acknowledged fact of your travels with him.

It’s irritating, although regarded with the same irritation as one would have with a pet goldfish trying to jump out of its tank. You silly thing, why do you want to abandon the place in which you are safe?

It doesn’t particularly make sense, though. He’s checked his cards - nothing suspicious has been bought in his name. No travel tickets or prepaid car hire. He’s even checked the jewellery collection - maybe you’d snatched up a nice necklace or bracelet or pair of diamond earrings to pawn off. But again, nothing. No suspicious bags have been packed. No loose tiles or floorboards or ceiling panels to hide supplies in. Your clothes are all neatly folded and hung in your wardrobe.

You’ve got something up your sleeve- something desperate and jittery and not fully thought out. Something that relies on luck and prayers far more than precision and blow-by-blow planning. He never particularly took you for a daredevil, but to see you get pushed to such a limit, to be forced against your own timid nature, is beyond satisfying. If he could pluck it out of you and analyse it under a microscope, he’d be elated. Or perhaps even, he supposes to himself, he’d be so fulfilled that he might abandon the current pathway of his life, aimless and bloody and cyclical, finally so consumed with his obsession over you that nothing else is valued in the slightest.

He can’t say he didn’t expect an ulterior motive for your apparent benevolence, at least initially, but for it to be kept up for this long? The stares felt almost too natural. The gradual lessening of your flinches when he placed a hand on your shoulder, the way your gaze would be drawn to him rather than away, even if only to flick away immediately - the subtleties were downright impressive. To be able to track everything simultaneously, to be able to remember to exhibit so many behaviours at once…Perhaps he should be taking acting lessons from you.

Chrollo had watched you, humming a pop tune this morning, cheekily shaking your hips from side to side as you fried some eggs, over easy, the notes sometimes interrupted with a sharp inhale between your teeth when the oil spat just a bit too high and would burn you ever-so-slightly. A domestic sight.

You’d let him give you another kiss on the cheek before he shrugged his coat on, giving you one last lingering glance before he’d walked out the door and into the hallway of the apartment, locking it with warm Nen made of comfort rather than capture. He gave you another cheek kiss (despite his ever-growing urge to dip lower) when he got home to the smell of spices and vegetables and the bubbling sound of a low simmer. You don’t fight them anymore, and barely even recoil now, a result of steady but slight crossing of boundaries - his record was eleven times in one day (at least, his record for when you were conscious) when he was feeling particularly affectionate, although you’d definitely soured up by the end.

The…fantasies he’d had of domesticity…they were just that, weren’t they? Fantasies, mere ideas that were appealing enough to fully flesh out in his mind. Whatever actions you’ve taken, whether it be pecks to the cheek or folding his shirts, staining them with the scent of you, they’ve all been a means to an end. That certainly wasn’t part of the fantasy.

You’ve been buttering him up like the thick slices of white bread next to his bowl. What a betrayal.

Tonight’s stew is spicy and chunky, served courteously by you. His palate is experienced from an adulthood of travel, wealth, and nights spent with gullible women who couldn’t tell the difference between a Prince Charming and a swindler. Truly, there is little he hasn’t at least tried. Including this.

So, if there’s no other signs of you wanting to leave the comfort of the apartment and the familiarity of his presence, then what could’ve possibly cued him into your motives?

It’s something tenuous, something that could’ve gone unnoticed to anyone else. It’s something subtle, buried under layers of rosemary and thyme and paprika. But diphenhydramine is such an acquired taste. And it’s one that’s made the past few weeks and months crumble to dust.

Oh, you sweet thing.

Acting as oblivious as ever, he spoons chunks of zucchini and carrot onto the bread, taking large bites, chewing and swallowing with purpose, the taste of the sedative lingering. He considers smacking his lips for good measure, to play around with you a bit, but eventually decides against it. That’ll come later.

You sit across from him, silence between you two. Normally, he’d fill it with tales from his busy day - but you’ve been so good lately, that he’s begun to refrain from doing that. Nowadays, he asks you what you’ve been up to, every painstaking detail from your dull days without him. But that’s only if you’ve been good, or at least if he’s under the impression that you’ve been good. As it turns out, you haven’t been good, you aren’t being compliant, and now he simply waits.

You stare into your bowl of stew, but he can tell you’re watching him in your periphery. It’s so very fascinating, the way you absorb each mouthful he takes, washed down with frequent sips of water (there’s no other substances in that, obviously). He takes another swill of the liquid, tilting his head slightly back, and in the corner of his eye, he can see the way you observe his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp. Does it appease you, the sight? Does it intrigue you? Does it make you, even for a moment, reconsider what you’re about to do?

Chrollo pauses for a moment, before placing the half-empty glass back onto its coaster. He knows the smirk that comes onto his face is nothing short of wicked, but he truly can’t help himself.

“Are you not hungry, my love? You’ve barely touched your food.”

Barely is an understatement. You haven’t touched it at all, in fact. Stupid, really. He knows that you know that he’s observant - but that information is irrelevant in this situation, considering it doesn’t take an keen eye to figure out your pattern of stirring your spoon around, picking up some carrot - even blowing on it for good measure - and nodding along with what few words he spoke initially, before giving an mhm! of agreement and letting it drop back into the bowl. You spend extensive amounts of time apparently fishing for just the right piece of zucchini, sorting through copious amounts of lentils (and seemingly taking the time to individually count them all), dragging chunks up the side of your bowl only to push them back down into the fray of assorted vegetables.

There’s almost a sort of jump in response to the words, ringing clear and well projected. But it’s contained above the shoulders - your head snaps to look at him, your eyes widening momentarily, staring into his own, trapped.

He can feel the shaky breath you take to steady yourself from over here, air stagnant and mouth dry.

“No,” you reply, “not particularly.”

He cocks an eyebrow at that, mouthing an oh before returning to his meal. It doesn’t matter whether you take the bait or not, his suspicions have long since been confirmed. Confirmed, in the sternest sense of the word, syllables enunciated with force, the knowledge of your true intentions well recognised. Whether that displays on his face or within his interactions with you is inconsequential to the known ending of your silly stunt.

The sound of you chewing is enough to bring his attention back out of the bowl. That’s not fake.

So you’re eating it too? It’s certainly a bold move, but one he wouldn’t dare put past you anymore. You were always a clever one, one to be placed a mere few tiers below his own intellect.

He hasn’t caught you swapping the bowl out for a fresh one. Maybe you’ve mastered the art so quickly that even he can’t notice?

No, not likely. Not in just a few months. That’d be impossible.

Your bites of pumpkin are preceded with the slightest hesitation, a quick breath to presumably psych yourself up to the self-sabotage. He hates to see you so scared when you’re properly sharing a meal with him like this, deciding to return to normalcy as a reward for your cooperation.

“Tell me, darling, what did you get up to today?”

Your eyes flick to his, momentarily ensnared in the grey, before looking up at the ceiling to aid in the process of giving a verbal description of what you read, how you cleaned, how you entertained yourself with rearranging your meagre book collection (not his, that would be asking for trouble). The response is practically identical to every other time he’s asked the question, plain and unindulgent. It’s boring, he thinks, even with the unacknowledged omission of the hours you spend staring at the walls and pacing around the living area. He’s tempted to pry into how you decided on tonight’s dish, but decides against it. Not for lenience or mercy, but rather amusement. To give away what he knows now would simply be a waste of a situation you’ll never attempt to put yourself in again.

If you knew what Chrollo knew, would you still bother to indulge him?

You stare at him for a moment, allowing him to draw things out, before nodding at the I see he gives in response. He gives a forward nod to your bowl, giving you gracious permission to eat again after starving you for the length of your interrogation, merciful as ever. Your fear is better contained behind a split second’s confusion before you register the nonverbal instruction, picking up your spoon once more and eating with more confidence this time, taking exaggerated bites of zucchini that barely make it past your teeth, chewed excessively into grey paste before being swallowed. Maybe you reason that if you chew enough, you can break the drug down into something that won’t knock you out. A cute thought.

The spices stain your lips an enticing red, the chilli making them plump up so deliciously. If he kissed them, would they burn him? Would the capsaicin leave his lips tingling, a reminder of your soft touch?

He likes to think he’ll know the answer soon.

Chrollo feigns sleepiness, furrowing his brows in mock confusion as he tells you that he can’t quite keep his eyes open - perhaps he overdid it at work today.

Yes, work, as he loves to call it, like there’s the possibility of him spending his time away from you at a desk, punching in numbers on a computer, monotonous and repetitive and damn, couldn’t things just switch up for a day? Work, as in a beer-bellied husband whose idea of experimental fashion is changing which tie he wears with the same white button-up and black dress pants each day. Work, as in an assembly line employee who wakes up at three o’clock to be at the factory by four, ready and willing to make whatever sacrifices necessary to support his loved ones. Work, as in something at least vaguely respectable.

Work, as in literally anything other than stealing and slaughtering and scourging.

Chrollo relishes in the way your shoulders relax a little. It’s almost too adorable. Chrollo also relishes in the way they tense up again when he adds how it’s suspicious really. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt a tiredness such as this.

There’s an underlying anxiety in your pretty, pluckable, ever-so-slightly bloodshot eyes. Where others would be concerned for your health, he finds endearment, you precious thing. After admiring them silently for a moment, he announces that he’ll be off to bed now, darling. Remember to be there for me when I wake.

He leaves you alone in the kitchen to stew in your unease.

____________

Now he’s lying in bed, on the side closest to the door, limp as anything. It doesn’t matter whether his facade convinces you or not, he’ll have you in his arms by morning. The blinds aren’t fully down, leaving a pleasant blue hue that gives him a good visual of most of the room. Your side of the bed is still firmly tucked in from when he made it this morning, after running his hands up and down your arms until you’d given a great shudder and shoved him away - a pitiful attempt that he’d impishly gone along with.

Anticipation tickles his nose and prods at his heart. Childishly, he wants you to get over with it already, to sprint in, swinging a knife wildly, or cue him to start the chase with a slam of the front door so violent that the hinges threaten to crack. It’s unfortunate how your faux compliance conditioned him to be unable to accept a halt, or even slowing, of progress.

Ah, some solace - he can hear your footsteps come up to the door, attempting, albeit poorly, to be quiet. Or maybe they are quiet, to the average man, but someone well-versed in the art of stealth can practically see the way you tiptoe closer. The faint sounds paint a detailed visualisation of your movements - the balls of your feet lifting from the ground, the flexing of your toes, the dorsiflexion at your ankles, the soft thud of your heels hitting the ground.

The bedroom door creaks open, a thin streak of light hitting his eyelids, making him see an ever-so-slight orange behind them. He might be able to visualise your walk accurately, but the same cannot be said for your face. Are you fearful, lips downturned and eyes wide? Are you determined yet cautious, eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line? Are you smug? Condescending? Grinning from ear-to-ear, excited to finally have what you believe to be freedom?

You’re not, he discerns.

Instead, you huff a sigh, a sweet note that makes his heart jump, a small flutter that could only be instigated by you. It’s a sigh of relief. The door is shut. He expects another door to be slammed, too - the front door, hinges quaking as you sprint to the stairs as far as you can, too scared to wait for the elevator (and for your sake, he hopes you’ve brought a pair of running shoes - you’re on the 35th floor, after all). But that doesn’t happen.

Instead, he can hear the clanking of bowls and dishes, the smooth schwip as you push breadcrumbs off the chopping board into the bin with the back of the serrated-edge knife, and how you place said knife into the block without taking another one out.

So you’ve decided against stabbing him tonight? How agreeable.

In fact there seems to be no malice in the way you’re stacking the bowls, no scraps of extra force in how you shut the fridge. Whilst the sounds of your cleanup are nothing short of a ruckus to his alert ears, there’s an intentional tenderness he can hear. A conscious effort to be as quiet as possible with somebody sleeping peacefully in the next room.

It’s a gesture he’ll interpret in the best way he can. Even if he knows he’s deluding himself that you want to be quiet for his own peace rather than so you can escape, he’ll be sure to bring up the former as reasoning for your actions over the next few days, regardless of how you’ll spit venom at him, hissing that he couldn’t be more wrong.

Next is a movement he didn’t expect in the slightest.

You come back to the bedroom, with a pile of fabric in your hands - clothes, maybe? He thought you’d be off and away as soon as possible, or you wouldn’t get close to him again at the very least, standing patiently by the door until whatever you’re waiting for had occurred.

The quiet-ish footsteps make their way past him this time, and straight into the ensuite.

There’s the soft sound of clothes falling, and then the tap is turned on.

You’re…showering before you leave?

You really are a good teacher of the quirks of humanity. Logical as ever, he’d most certainly take no time for hygiene practices if it reduced his chances of being able to go on a small, liberating adventure. But perhaps that’s part of the plan? Do you not want to have a speck of dirt on you so you don’t smell bad? Will you hide out at a fancy gala, and have to be as fresh as possible? Are you trying to wash off Nen, perhaps?

No, that would never work, and he’s certain you know this too. Still, the idea of a little hopeless fire in you, taking a precaution you know is futile, makes his lips twitch.

So many questions, few of them answerable at present. His mind is stimulated so wondrously, for once not finding boredom in the predictability of human behaviour. He’s truly chosen well.

And then there’s something else, rising above the sound of the rushing water, above the drain gurgling it down, greedily gulping it away.

You’re humming.

It’s relatively random, most likely improvised, and slightly off-tune, but endearing all the same. He can taste the notes, sweet and soothing, running down his throat smoothly and pooling warmth in his belly.

You heave a sigh, and the tune changes. And then he recognises it.

It’s something he heard as a boy, back in Meteor City. He’d hear it at night, walking back to whatever semblance of a refuge he had with Franklin and Shalnark, past the hamlets of the younger children. Letting himself get lost in it, he can feel himself crawling to shelter on scraped knees, walking on calloused heels, eating stale bread, all accompanied by the faint smell of garbage, a smell that years of exposure had waned to a neutral accompaniment of the setting, rather than an inconvenience or hazard.

Despite the unhygienic nature of it all, it’s sweet. It’s these memories - memories of grime and rot and infection - that are the most pure. The most uncorrupted. They’re full of innocence and hope - just like you.

These qualities make you think you’ll leave him.

Upon remembering this, he’s tempted to barge in and ruin your peace, eager to hear your inevitable yelp and nervous laugh as he quizzes you about tonight’s events. But he doesn’t. Your lullaby is too enjoyable, the tune far too agreeable to stomp out yet. Resisting sin by committing another, he decides he doesn’t want to kill this mockingbird, if only to selfishly continue to hear it sing.

Few moments have come like this since you came to be with him. They’re all short-lived in comparison to the cold life he’s had, a firecracker popping on his tongue, fleetingly filling his mouth with syrupy sweetness before quickly dying off, barely an aftertaste to be savoured. He’s scratched them all down in an old leather journal with a quill and ink, lest he forgets what it feels like, or how to get that feeling again, but thankfully they’re scratched even deeper into his psyche.

You’d been agreeable enough for a reward of a dinner somewhere several stories up, city lights shining behind you, framing your hair beautifully. You were reluctant at first, turning your nose up at him and the priceless food in front of you, opting for the bottle of red wine instead. It wasn’t supposed to be gulped down with such vulgarity like that, but that was part of your charm and by your second glass you were giggling and halfway through your third you looked at him right in the eye, cheeks tinged pink, and you smiled a smile that you’d forget by morning but he wouldn’t…

He’d returned to the villa after a long day to find the fans blasting, and you slumped over on the couch as credits rolled on the screen in front of you. He’d flicked the TV off, not before noting the rom-com’s name, and regarded you, with your deep, even breaths and singlet strap falling down. He picked you up and carried you to bed, laying you down on the thin blankets, fixing your strap despite the small voice that called to him to take off the thing entirely. Your head rested on the pillow, your face not scowling for once, and you’d huffed the sweetest of sighs…

That’s the kind of moment this is.

There’s no thought of what he’ll be doing with the troupe tomorrow, or in a week, or what move to make next depending on what you decide to do. Every nook and cranny of his mind, every convolution of his brain is filled with the thought of you. Tonight, it’s warm and viscous, slowing time and cutting both of you off from the rest of the world; the rest of its filth.

In this moment, he can see himself in the shower with you. He’s across from you, lathering body wash onto his shoulders, letting the foam run down his back. All the while, he keeps his gaze on you, watching how your hands run over your body, soap running along your sternum, between your breasts, along the curve of your hips, your ass, all whilst you hum that tune… shit, he can’t let himself get hard now. He manages to drag himself out of the daydream, barely, just managing to claw himself to the surface of reality.

Caps are popped open and the lathering of soaps can be heard over the course of your performance, with a finale of the tap being turned off. There’s a fumbling of fabrics before you come out, followed by yet another move he doesn’t expect.

You walk up to the bed, peel the sheets back, and lie down beside him. You then roll onto your side, facing him. After a few moments, you prop yourself up onto your elbow.

A moment of nothing. You’re frozen, as is he. Calm before the storm, he prepares himself to catch your wrist and hear you shriek.

You lean over.

And then there’s a featherlight sensation on his forehead, right in the middle of his tattoo.

Had it been a split second later, he would’ve opened his eyes and turned to face you with a smirk as you screamed. But it’s not a split second later, it’s now, and now you’re kissing him. There’s no real benefit for doing such a thing that he can identify right now - perhaps you know he’s awake, and would like to make amends? Surely you know that that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.

The contact sends an electric zap to every corner of his body, although he manages to not make himself jolt. Months of stifled desire bubble up from his insides, desire that’s spent so long smothered by rationale of better outcomes and forcing himself to think of his bloodied obstacles and late nights alone in the shower. As often as his lips find their way to your forehead, unfortunately the reverse doesn’t occur even half as much.

You pull away, like you’re hesitant about what you’ve done, like you’re waiting for him to snap his eyes open and sit up with inhuman speed, ready to pin you down or tie you up or even slap you for tonight’s inconveniences. But that doesn’t make sense, because hesitation is supposed to occur before such an intrepid act, not afterward.

After receiving apparent confirmation that you’re not about to be attacked, he can sense your head slowly but surely coming to rest on your pillow. You shouldn’t strain your neck like that, someone like you could get hurt over time.

The back of his shirt is peeled up, slowly, delicately, and he has to focus to keep his breathing even.

There you lie, staring at the twelve-legged spider etched into his skin, his number a pale contrast to the black ink, practically jumping out at you.

It’s your reminder, he supposes, of what he is. Theoretically and legally nonexistent, practically traceless. Zero evidence. Zero remorse. Zero morality.

Zero.

Then-

One, two, three.

Your lips mark a trail up his spine, at the bottom of the abdomen, right in the middle of the zero, on its head. Don’t shudder.

Once your deed is done, you pull back. There you lie, staring at the twelve-legged spider etched into his skin, so silent that you’re barely breathing.

The fabric of his nightshirt is guided back down. You roll over and proceed to go limp, succumbing to the drugs intended for him.

What was that?

You’re not touching him anymore. He can sense the gap between your bodies, one that he would close every night, pulling you close.

Was it a relief? To go to sleep without him touching you?

You’d always stirred up such a fuss about his arms being around you as you slept.

It had always been a cause for seething rage on your part, later argument, later whining, and more recently huffing. Even last night, the stiffness before you fell asleep was a cause of his own discomfort. But you didn’t have to deal with that tonight, and now you’ve fallen asleep in record time. He can’t say it was just from the pills.

Did you change your mind on leaving after you felt their effects? It doesn’t seem likely that you’d ditch all that to sleep. Rather, that you wanted to sleep on your own terms.

He’d spent so much time concerned with stopping a potential escape, that he didn’t stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, that was never the goal to begin with.

And now Chrollo rolls over to face you, gently tugging on your shoulder to pull you onto your back.

You’re serene as ever, a sight to behold.

He brushes the back of his knuckles along your hair, feeling its texture, so light that his calloused hands - hands that have seen many a bruise and burn and slice and hangnail caught and ripped on the job - almost can’t feel it. Your exhales come out more as huffs and sighs now compared to gentle breathing, and he allows a chuckle (one that he finds incredibly endearing, as much as you’ve let your disagreement to that sentiment be known, preferring to describe it with wounding words such as “condescending” and “grating”) to slip past his lips.

It reminds him of you when you’re awake, when you used to try so hard to be difficult for him, when you used to scream and scratch as he’d spoon you, grip ironclad, until all you could do was huff and puff and plead with him (and as much as he enjoyed your attempts to compromise, this was something he simply could not relinquish) and eventually, your cursing would die down, your muscles would go limp, and you’d fall asleep.

Sometimes the sun would be up by the time you relented, and your breaths would be the heaviest then. It was amusing, how quickly you’d switch. One second, you were cussing him and his troupe out, the next, you were a paragon of tranquillity, the visage of an angel before him. He’d pray you love him.

He wants to grab your jaw, hold it firm, and kiss your lips as hard as he can. He wants to tilt his head and take and take and take. He wants to keep taking even if your breathing lightens. He wants to keep taking even if your eyelids flutter open, hazy doe-eyes looking at him with dozy confusion.

Well, he’d never deny his own indulgence.

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to your forehead, just as you did to him.

The touch is as gentle as he can make it, as gentle as he can permit himself to be. There’s a split second of what he could almost call fear, an image of accidentally squeezing you too hard and hearing your bones snap flashing in his mind.

He rubs his thumb over where his lips previously were, feeling an unanticipated wetness left behind.

It’s then that Chrollo realises his mouth is full of his own saliva - whether that was because he was so entranced by your actions that nothing else mattered, body as limp as he could allow, or because, like some sort of filthy animal, he couldn’t help but drool at the contact from you, starved for it like a hyena, he doesn’t know. He swallows. That’s better.

And now for the main event.

He dips down to your lips, and lightly presses his own against them. The feeling is so heavenly, he wonders if you really are an angel. If you were one, would you bless him? Would you destroy him?

If you were to know what he’s doing, would you hate him more?

He pulls away.

The journey to get here was sizable. Memories of tonight flash by; your cooking, your conversation, your shower. Your humming.

Ah. The tune he heard as a boy. Innocent, naïve, hopeful.

Well, he’s a man now. And far less innocent.

He lets out a hum of his own, deep and rumbling.

Chrollo moves to straddle you, peeling the duvet and sheets back, layer by layer, unveiling the best present he’s ever gifted himself. Just moving into such an intimate position is enough to send pangs of heat downwards, the hardness he fought against earlier returning with an urgency.

For a moment, he tries to fight against it.

Is it to save himself from your hatred? Is it to save you from what he’s planning?

It’s neither, he discerns, as the attempt was doomed to fail before it even started. He knows it was never meant to succeed.

His groin only throbs harder, aching for friction. It’s a spur-of-the-moment thing, the way he presses it against your clothed crotch, rocking back and forth, the slight relief just momentary as his desire only grows.

He regards your unsuspecting face. Stunning.

Restraint is draining faster now, but still is present just enough to stop him from grinding any harder despite the urge. But if he’s to stop his movements, he’ll need a different kind of stimulation.

He bunches your shirt up, pulling, sliding a hand under your back so he can slip it off your arms and neck.

Now your chest is bare. How ravishing.

His fingers hook under the band of your sleep pants, dragging them off in a clean motion.

And now your legs are bare. How alluring.

He doesn’t take your underwear off - that would simply be crude, and he doesn’t need to tempt himself anymore. If he got the privilege (or right, considering your standings) of seeing you fully nude, as opposed to having a single layer covering the most tantalising part of you, he’d be oh-so-inclined to do something regrettable. His logic fights to win space within his buzzing thoughts, fingers daring to twitch as his imagination fills in the gaps of what the thin black layer forces to be left to it.

Chrollo parts your thighs for good measure, the maximum he can allow himself at this moment. It’d be impossible to not let his hands and gaze trail up them, observing how as he roams upwards, your flesh gets softer, warmer; how the flimsy fabric can’t hide all of your darker flesh; how your lower lips are pressing against the cloth, visible despite the darkness…

God, you’re so fuckable.

There’s a pretentious voice in his head, albeit muffled, that cries protests at the use of such a word to describe you. You’re something far more than that - beautiful, exemplary, one-in-a-million, ethereal. Surely your mouth would be better put to use having a fulfilling conversation with him, a conversation he can dissect and steer and puppeteer, as opposed to just opening as wide as it can to accommodate his cock, taking it as deep as your gag reflex will allow, barely able to breathe, much less talk. Although, he thinks with a faint, deep groan, twitching in his pants, that’s certainly a hypothesis I’ll have to test.

With the sight of your breasts, nipples hard and skin goosebumped from the chill of the room, it’s decided. Just because making his cheeks warm and his cock rock hard isn’t your most prominent trait, doesn’t mean that you aren’t absolutely exceptional at it.

Temptation isn’t something he’s inclined to resist, brushing a thumb over your nipples before leaning down to take one into his mouth. He swears he can hear your breath hitch as his tongue swirls around, breathing getting slightly lighter. An eager hand reaches for the other one, kneading as gently as he thinks he can.

Soft is the first thing he thinks. Your flesh is so soft, so delicate, so tender. If you were awake, he’d vocalise his compliments - and do so loudly, unrestrained.

Your breathing changes as he points his tongue to lightly flick at your nipple repeatedly. Chances are you’re being taken out of REM sleep, but your consciousness doesn’t matter at this stage. And some part of him hopes for it, brief images flashing in his mind of barely-open teary eyes slowly rolling to the back of your head. They’re obscene, so utterly immoral to even fantasise about, yet even the split-second thought makes his stomach jump, shivering a bit as he feels himself be almost overcome by them.

He can’t help but slightly wet his lips in anticipation, relishing in the knowledge that his instincts are being held back with the slightest thread. If he moves even slightly faster than his rational, calculating, non-carnal mind intends, then it’ll snap. He’ll snap.

Almost trembling, he reaches across to his bedside table. The movements are imprecise, but he’s sure this practice will allow him to execute them with much more grace for the inevitable time you’ll be awake. Yes, you’ll be awake and whining and he’ll wet his lips in anticipation and be met with your lingering taste and you’ll want him as much as he wants you-

He almost falls forward as his own lust threatens to overtake him. Focus on the necessary steps.

Taking a shuddering breath, he leans down to pull open the drawer, to find a bottle hidden at the back, purposefully concealed behind an upright copy of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Quickly shifting his weight back, he pops the cap open, spreading some of the slick contents onto his fingertips. With his free hand, he pulls down the loose elastic of his pyjama pants, shucking them off, the cold air making him quiver slightly.

Time’s running out.

The movements are trembling, sloppy as he pours lube onto his length, and then onto your spread thighs. There’s a frantic inertia of sorts, a mad momentum - the more he does, the faster he has to go, the anticipation making his stomach swell and dip. He’s really going to do this. It’s really going to happen, and it’ll be amazing.

There. Done. Everything’s ready.

Chrollo takes a shaky breath, gripping just above your knees, and squeezes your thighs around his dick.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Your thighs are warm from the duvet, perfectly cosy and wet from the lube for his cock.

Little time is wasted as he begins to thrust his hips, trying not to give himself too much too soon. The steady pace is slowly increased, little by little, a fragile incline so he can drag this out for as long as possible.

Can you feel it? Can you feel the warmth radiating from him? Is there some part of your mind that’s awake, but can’t do anything to stop him? Or better yet, is eager to please him?

He strains out a hiss through gritted teeth, peppering kisses over your exposed neck, trying his best not to bite. The pace increases yet again. His eyes are fixated on the mound in your underwear, a more sinister form of curiosity burning within.

What does your pussy look like?

He won’t use En, that’s just cheating. He wonders and ponders and conjures up the most filthy images his mind can muster. A warm, tight hole that clenches for him as he slips in and out, teasing you. A pretty clit for him to tease with his fingers as you whine, for him to suckle on as you choke on sobs of pleasure. Folds for him to run his tongue through as you rut your hips against his face; for him to run his tip along, collecting your slick.

He imagines how his cock would look disappearing inside of your cunt, how your grip would be so suffocating, how your tits would bounce as he fucks it (because shit, they’re already moving so vigorously now, as he holds his strength, and he can’t even begin to picture what they’d look like if he loses control buried deep inside you, repeatedly stuffing you to the hilt as you cry out). He imagines how you’d tighten around him, babbling something incoherent as you wrap your arms and legs around him, and oh fuck, he can’t pull out now. He imagines the tension snapping, giving a rumbling groan as he shoves himself into you as deeply as possible, eyes screwing shut and burying his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder, riding out his high with a few shallow thrusts.

And finally, he imagines how his cum would look leaking out of your pussy, twitching and swollen from a nice good fuck. The afterglow. The squeak you’d give if he fingered it back into you, growling at you to not waste a drop, keep it all inside for me.

The thought makes his hips stutter a little, threatening to slip out of the plushness between your thighs. Once he regains his rhythm, though, they’re speeding up, relentlessly fucking himself into your thighs over and over, kneading the flesh as he squeezes them tighter and closer.

Chrollo cups your face with a single hand, and leans in.

It’s the second time he’s properly kissed you tonight, and it feels fucking amazing. Your soft lips, your soft thighs, they’re all working together to make his head swim in bliss. You’re working to make him feel good. Yes, him. Nobody else. You’re his.

The thoughts run wild. He has as little control over them as he does his hips.

How would it feel to fuck you in some other position? How would it feel to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your hips back to meet his, as he stuffs himself into your sopping cunt over and over, watching your ass bounce? How would you cry out at the way his balls slap against your swollen clit, building up the pressure inside you until you just can’t take any more?

How would you grind on top of him? How would you moan as you bounce, tilting your head back as you stretch yourself on his length, panting? How many times could you do it until your legs trembled uncontrollably, forcing yourself to impale yourself on his cock just one more time? When he’d plant his feet on the bed firmly and thrust his hips up, grabbing yours and bouncing you in time, would you wail, or simply slump over, completely unable to form a thought as you cum around him for the nth time?

You’re flexible enough to fold into a mating press, right? How deep could he go? How fast could he go? How would your beautiful skin look covered in love bites?

The coil of pressure within him grows even tighter even faster, balls slapping against your thighs, hips pistoning rhythmlessly.

If he asked, oh-so-nicely, for you to get on your knees and please him with your mouth, would you oh-so-sweetly do it? Would you suckle his swollen tip? Would you tease him with a glint of mischief in your eyes? Would you find his most sensitive spots and exploit them? Would you trace your tongue along the veins? Would you massage his balls? Would you let him control the pace, a hand intertwined in your hair? Would you look up at him as you tear up, doe-eyes wide and eager to please? Would you rub your pretty pussy while he shoots thick ropes of cum down your throat, pressing your nose against his pelvis?

Yes, he decides as the coil begins to snap, you would.

Chrollo comes to a sudden halt, choking out a rich groan in a low timbre. The noise becomes more strained as he rides out the high, the overwhelming euphoria becoming just a bit too intense as it begins to morph into overstimulation. Once he’s sure the moment’s over, he lets go of your legs, pulling back to catch his breath and admire his work.

Ropes of cum paint your chest, some making it as far as your neck, your chin. It’s beautiful, the unruly mess he’s made - no, the mess you’ve made of him.

You’re a real beauty, you know that?

The bathroom tiles are cold against his feet as he grabs a washcloth to clean you up. It’s sad to see it go, to a primal extent, but it’s probably for the best to ensure he doesn’t get any ideas for a second round tonight.

For future nights, though? The chest he’s covering up will soon be exposed soon enough.

He’ll have to get more sleeping pills. You simply must try this again soon.

Next time, he’ll taste you. The time after that, you’ll taste him. He can hardly wait, nor can he stop the dull throbbing starting up in his groin again.

He sates himself for the time being with the knowledge that the time after that, you’ll be awake.

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