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afterglowsainz · 6 months ago

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bye | charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader x alexandra saint mleux, reader x ex!max verstappen

summary: when max breaks up with you, you find solace in his childhood rival and his stunning girlfriend

fc: taylor swift

request: here

a/n: guys i’m not even a charles girlie but he looked so happy in that podium i wanted to cry

—

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and others

yourusername always the biggest pleasure, paris🤎

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username she’s unreal

username forever obsessed with this tour

username watching the video i record of vigilante shit over and over

username max verstappen can you fight??? 🤨

username the most magical night fr

alexandrasaintmleux 💗

charles_leclerc ☺️

username max not even liking this but charles and alex …

username they’re hilarious 😭

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and others

maxverstappen1 free practice was okay, now we can focus on quali and the race

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username no but max being furious and still finding a way to post charles 😭

username no power on earth can separate those two

username can’t believe we’re watching the fall of red bull in real time

username FREE MY MAN FROM THAT TRACTOR

username time for me to suggest y/n going to the grand prix and bring max good luck 😁

username frfr she hasn’t been in forever

username lestappen is alive and breathing i see

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f1wags y/n y/l/n on saturday and sunday at the paddock for quali and the grand prix

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username glad to see she’s still alive 😭

username omg i thought she wasn’t gonna go with the tour and everything

username the best wag everrr

username so iconic

username OMG SHE SAW THE COMMENTS

username y/n in the paddock means a good race for max i know it 🧿

username the way i had completely forgot she was dating max 😭

username those two don’t interact with each other anymore i swear 😩

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f1gossip max verstappen and girlfriend y/n y/l/n were seen fighting outside their hotel after the grand prix, y/n later walked away and left max alone

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username damn

username right after we thought everything was okay 😔

username no because the first gp my girl goes to after forever and they fight?

username idc what happened i’m blaming max

username lol agree

username guys be honest do you think they’re breaking up???

username my heart says no but my head says they haven’t been seen together for a while and when they do they always fight so…

username yes

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yourusername fresh out the slammer … into the studio

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username HUH?

username miss girl ??? explain

username new music yay!

username is the caption a lyric or something ??? WDYM FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

alexandrasaintmleux sooo excited! 💕

yourusername 💞💞💞

username alex what do you know

username is this like a happy song or is it going to make me hate men?

username no because i need to know too 😩

liked by yourusername, flavy.barla and others

alexandrasaintmleux with a full heart ❤️

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username i love their friendship

username guys charles made it to the feed!

yourusername pretty gorgeous beautiful everything

alexandrasaintmleux 🤭

username no but y/n in the last slide took me out 😭

username SAME i thought this was a charles post

charles_leclerc favorite girls❤️

alexandrasaintmleux 💘

username “girls” ????

username explain !!?

username is this a safe space to say what i’m thinking? …

alexandrasaintmleux’s instagram stories

[caption 1: 🍝] [caption 2: 💘]

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ynupdates charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux, kika gomes and pierre gasly at tonight’s show of y/n’s tour in milan

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username i love their friendship they’re so supportive of her🥰

username now THAT is an outfit

username alexandra the fashion icon that you are

username this is such a green flag for all of them

username friends who support y/n >>>>

username notice how max has been quiet since y/n won charles in the divorce

username i know that man is FUMING

username no but seriously i’m glad she still has supportive friends after the break up 😔

username was i the only one who noticed that she kept looking at the vip tent while singing the love/crushing songs? 🤭

username which could mean nothing!

username WHAT WERE THE SURPRISE SONGS

username invisible string and sweet nothing!

username :0

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f1wags alexandra saint mleux and y/n y/l/n today at the paddock, y/n used to date max verstappen but recently broke up and was seen today at the ferrari hospitality with alexandra and charles, with whom she stayed friends

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username 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

username they both look so hot

username and if i say power couple then what 🤨

username i’d say alexandra has a boyfriend and you’re delusional 😭

username messyyyy

username the amount of money i would pay to know what’s going through max’s brain

username imagine losing THE y/n y/l/n and not only that but your rival since you’re four years old stayed friends with her

username he lost the break up

username we got y/n at the ferrari garage before gta 6

yourusername’s instagram stories

[caption 1: alexandrasaintmleux 🫶🏽🫶🏽] [caption 2: 🍸]

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charles_leclerc mes trois coeurs❤️

tagged yourusername and alexandrasaintmleux

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username DAMN

username what do you mean your three hearts? wydm!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

username honestly it makes so much more sense that they’re all dating 😭

username CONFIRMATION AT LAST

username the most drop dead gorgeous woman you’ll find and the cutest puppy on earth 🥰

username charles really won in life 😩

username and they called me crazy for even suggesting this 🙄

username POWER THROUPLE

scuderiaferrari the family as god intended🫶🏽

username ferrari 😭

yourusername gotta learn french asap!

alexandrasaintmleux we’ll teach you love💗

charles_leclerc de cette façon nous pouvons te dire que nous t'aimons dans toutes les langues chérie ❤️ (this way we can tell you we love you in every language dear)

yourusername ily both too much💘

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yourusername monaco! you are one of the best crowds ever ❤️ i had too much fun singing from the top of my lungs with all of you and performing for the first time ever my two new singles, “fresh out the slammer” and “bye” 😽 i have the feeling we’ll see each other wayyy more often

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username STOP she’s so cute 😭

username i’m afraid “bye” is one of the best songs ever made and “fresh out the slammer” changed the trajectory of my life

username “boy bye it’s over its over oh yeah” GIRL-

username she had too much fun writing that one

username “didn’t think you’d lose me now it’s just too late to choose me” UHM

username if that song is not for max-

username RED DRESS FOR FERRARI IKTS

username “now pretty baby i’m running back home to you” the fact that she calls them home i- 🥺

username “another summer taking cover, he don’t understand me” i gasped

username y/n calling her relationship with max literal prision was not in my bingo card

charles_leclerc you’re incredibly mesmerizing love 😍 best concert ever!

alexandrasaintmleux the prettiest and most talented there is! 💗

yourusername je vous aime tous les deux❤️ (i love you both)

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felibrary · 11 months ago

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wish you were sober

synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)

tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)

“i love you.”

your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa.

colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.

one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.

the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.

it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.

he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.

the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)

as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.

it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.

aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.

but he freezes.

the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)

his throat hurts.

(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.)

it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.

he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)

twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin.

he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.

the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.

it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.

all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.

the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases.

his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it.

“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.

(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)

his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.

crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.

walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.

the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.

forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is.

aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.

you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be.

the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.

the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?

you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is.

love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.

if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.

but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”

you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.

a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself.

as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose.

there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.

a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.

in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.

vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you.

he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again.

“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.

“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.

“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.

..did you seriously just black out?

aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you.

e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)

#toorurs #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine angst #aventurine imgines #aventurine headcanons #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #hsr headcanons

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charlesf1leclerc · 2 years ago

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KUWTL

Summary- Indy Jules catches her parents doing something she wasn’t supposed to see

Warnings- Smut, NSFW minors do not interact! Also badly proofread.

It’s currently a Sunday morning and Charles and y/n we’re relishing in the fact that they had a bit of time to themselves as their two daughters were still asleep in bed. Charles and Y/n were currently sat in bed Y/n on top of Charles lap as they measly made out, knowing their time was limited especially with a 6 and 2 year old.

“Your morning breath is so bad this morning” You giggle as Charles looks at you disapprovingly

“Do you want me to stop?” He quirked a eyebrow at you

“No please don’t” you went back Into kissing him running your hands through his hair

“Ok we don’t have much time remove your clothes Leclerc” you humorously demanded

“What happened to the times were we had hours to do all this, didn’t have to rush”

“Well it’s because all those hours are the consequence of why we only have ten to fifteen minutes now” You laughed

Charles and you were both undressed in a hurry.

“Roll over Cherie” Charles encouraged as you got off his lap to lay on your back.

He began to move down the bed but your grabbed his hair

“No no time for that I want us both to get some before the girls wake up no time to waste leclerc!”

“I’m sure we have a little bit of time cmon I know what I’m doing” he winked

“Ok 2 minutes”

“You’re just like the girls, Ms bossy pants” he giggled before getting to work

He definitely knew what he was doing there was no doubt about that, but of course you knew because he was good enough to have two kids with.

“Omg it feels so much better after babies” I moaned

“You saying I wasn’t good before” he removed himself offended

“ babe not this good”

He continued working his lips in all the right spots.

“Mm yeah omg that’s soo good” I moaned

“Still want me to stop after two minutes” he smirked

“Don’t stop please don’t you dare stop”

“That’s what I thought”

Little did you know that in the other room Indy was wide awake and was ready to go have her morning cuddles with her parents like she always does. She removed her sheets and walked out of the bedroom but when she made her way to her parents bedroom door she heard some stars he noises coming from the inside.

“Yes omgg that’s so good”

“YES”

She heard from behind the door. Was mummy hurt? what was happening? she didn’t know what to think after all she was only 6 what was she supposed to think.

She reached up and opened the door to the bedroom

“Mummy why are you screaming?” Indy asked

Charles halted his movements and turned around to see his sweet little daughter standing there.

You and Charles quickly covered your body with the bed sheets.

“Papa why was mamma screaming were you hurting her?” Indy asked coming closer to the bed

Charles reached down to get his boxers and sweats to then come out of the covers while you still sat against the headboard with the sheets to your chest.

“No no baby mammas not hurt don’t worry angle” he spoke crouching down to her level.

“Then why was she yelling?”

“ well you know how mamma loves chocolate cake, we’ll I told her I was going to make it for her tonight for dessert and she got very excited” he explained in the best way he could think of

“YAY chocolate cake” she screeched jumping up and down

“ yes yes now why don’t go you go downstairs and watch some Tv I’ll be down to make breakfast for you a your sister soon”

“ ok papa” she agreed running down stairs

Charles turned around to face where you sat in bed

“ I told you we had to be quick but you didn’t listen’” you spoke up

“Shh Im making you chocolate cake” he rolled his eyes before kissing your lips and going to check on your children

————————————————————————

Hope you all enjoyed even though it’s short pls continue to keep sending in your request for my KUWTL series and my other drivers tysm xx

#charles lecrelc #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #x reader #arthur leclerc #fanfic #lando norris x reader #smut #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagines #imagines #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly

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gor3-hound · 1 year ago

Text

sneaking out of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents

a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3

word count: 1.3k words

Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.

You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.

Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.

This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.

You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.

As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.

That was until the Kennedys moved into town.

Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.

Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.

As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.

You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.

Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.

It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.

You were not so lucky.

As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.

His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.

“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.

“I-I haven't…”

“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”

Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.

“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”

He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.

“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.

“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.

“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.

“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”

“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.

You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.

“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.

He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.

“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.

“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.

“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.

If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.

You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.

“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.

“Yeah. Friends.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy

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httpiastri · 8 months ago

Text

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER FOUR (MONACO)

genre: fluff, angst, etc.

warnings: heartbreak as usual

word count: 5.3k (like, exactly 5.3k. on the word. 😭)

author's note: it feels so wrong to say that im posting this to celebrate ollie's graduation to f1 because... this is such a sad chapter.... pain pain pain for everyone involved (especially ollie) 💔 but yay happy ollie f1 announcement day!!! hope you're all doing well & hope you enjoy <3 (also i wrote a lot of this chapter back in february? and proofreading it today nearly brought me to tears bcs of ollie-)

series masterlist

the career of a racing driver is a roller coaster for everyone involved.

if your name is max verstappen, then you've got more ups than most others. that roller coaster seems pretty fun.

but if your name is y/n harper, then your roller coaster isn't as fun these days. but if there’s ever a place to turn things around, it's monaco.

even just the track walk is enough to bring up your mood after a bad week like last. walking along the monegasque streets, almost getting hit by cars as you sign autographs and take pictures with fans... it's an experience you just can't find anywhere else.

coincidentally enough, ollie is done with the track walk just as you are, which means that the two of you can make your way back to the f2 paddock together. your boyfriend has always loved monaco – he pretty much doesn't ever shut up about the track and it's history unless you tape his mouth shut when you're in the country. that's why it's surprising that he not only brings up another subject, but also that he chooses a quite sensitive one – your father.

"he's going to be here this weekend, right?" ollie asks, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. he seemingly doesn't quite understand just how tense things are with your dad yet. to be fair, it isn't really his fault, since you haven't told him and since he isn't a mind-reader. but still, something in your chest tightens at the way ollie brings him up so casually.

you nod. "you know how much he adores monaco," you say with a sigh, before putting on your best impression of your dad. "the most iconic track ever, the only track to ever... blah blah blah."

having your dad along for races was always a given when you were younger. he was your best helmet carrier, your number-one supporter, and the first person you went to when celebrating or complaining.

but somewhere along the years, having him around started to become more problematic and anxiety-inducing. his support turned into criticism, and it became far more common for him to tell you to "go apologize to the engineers and ask them what you should do to perform better tomorrow" rather than give you any constructive feedback of his own.

at first, it was rough; the man who had always been your pillar to lean on, your main source of support, your safe haven, was seemingly gone. you continued to perform well, though you weren't sure if that was because you wanted to make him proud or if you were terrified of making him disappointed.

"let's have dinner with him someday, then," ollie suggests as the two of you come to a stop right outside the prema garage for the weekend. "maybe sunday, if we have things to celebrate?"

"let's hope so."

pepe calls your name once, twice, thrice, before he resorts to shaking your shoulder gently. his touch, along with the sound of the spaniard's raspy laughter, makes you finally wake from your slumber. you blink up at him, eyes droopy and mind empty. "what?"

"why are you sleeping?" pepe asks, shaking his head. "quali starts in... about an hour."

you begin to slowly push yourself up from the couch you've been lying on, yawning loudly. "i was supposed to just rest my eyes," you start, rubbing your eyes with your hands. "i didn't mean to fall asleep..."

"did you not sleep well last night? were you up late again?" pepe asks as he sits down next to you, watching you stretch your arms over your head with yet another yawn.

what are you supposed to say? yes, i was up until four am because i couldn't find any peace of mind at all? i've been dreading every second of this weekend because i never know when my dad will appear from around the corner? i'm scared he's going to be so mad over my performances that he disowns me?

pepe may know a lot of what's going on with your father, but he doesn't need to know this much.

you did, in fact, meet him earlier today, right before practice – if greeting him briefly and then instantly bolting in the opposite direction counts as a "meeting" – but since then, he's been nowhere to be seen. not even around dino or ollie when you last saw the two of them.

pepe takes your silence as an answer in itself, and he lets out a hum. "well, i'm quite nervous myself," he says frankly, pulling a hand through his hair.

"you did so well here last year, though." you nudge his shoulder with yours. "you'll be great again, i'm sure of it."

"dinner with the prince on sunday? both of us?"

you nod, shooting your friend a smile. "of course." but despite how much you wish it would become a reality, there's not even the slightest trace of faith in you. the only thing you can think about is how likely it is for this round to go in the same footsteps as your recent ones.

a great attitude to bring into a race weekend.

p9.

a top ten placement, sure. second in the reverse grid, sure. but other than that, there's not much positive in it. it's a step in the right direction, but in some way, it feels like a step that's way too short.

the sprint race starts with an incident right by you on the track, which is extremely unlucky for you since you get pretty much blocked and have nowhere to go. after being passed by several cars, the safety car finally comes out, and you find yourself in p7.

of course your father's words echo in your head all the way through the safety car period. "starting p2 means a free podium," he had told you when he stopped by right before you were getting into your car. "don't mess it up."

you're so focused on that expression on his face, the way he tilted his chin up and his head slightly to the side as he spoke, and the way it felt like your heart stopped beating for a few seconds, that you don't even realize that your engineer has told you about the safety car being about to end. you don't even acknowledge the fact that the race leader has taken off, nor that the rest of the field starts pushing again before it's too late.

some blue car tries to overtake you on the outside, and with another car on your inside you have no chance of giving either of them space – and you manage to crash into them both. not only did you ruin your own race, but also two other drivers'.

and of course, one of the cars buried into the wall next to yours is a silver hitech with a big number 17 on it.

climbing out of your car, you can hear several voices calling out for all three of you from the grandstand nearby, and you consider throwing them a wave as you climb through the metal fence to get off the track. but then, you hear one voice that's more familiar – one that belongs to the last person you want to talk to right now. "are you alright?"

you almost don't look at him, but the little glance you shoot him is enough to take in every single bit of disappointment in his eyes. what are the odds that your dad was sitting in the grandstand right where you crashed?

a nod is enough of an answer you reckon, pulling your helmet off your head and beginning to walk the way towards the paddock again. "do you want me to carry that?" your dad asks, having gotten past the security guards after showing his pass, now jogging to catch up with you.

"i'm not ten anymore," you groan. "i can handle it on my own."

"i wasn't saying you can't-" he cuts himself off, placing a hand on your shoulder. "you looked really out of it out there."

you keep your gaze forwards so he won't see you rolling your eyes at his words, determined steps carrying you forward quickly as you shake his hand off. "oh, you could see through my visor? that's cool."

"what's gotten into you lately?" your dad pushes, and you flinch slightly at the harsh tone in his voice. "what's wrong with you?"

"what do you mean?"

"well, frankly, your driving had been shit recently." your eyes snap to him when he speaks, eyebrows furrowed. "it looks like you're not even trying."

you stay silent for a long while, trying to navigate your way back – and to a place where your dad hopefully won't be allowed – but you can't help but scoff. "thank's a lot."

"what? am i wrong?"

"yes, you're wrong!" you finally stop in your tracks, fully facing him by now. a hand goes up to your hair, pulling on it to relieve at least some tension. "i'm trying my best, i-"

"is there something going wrong with ollie?" your jaw drops. "i'll talk to him, i'll settle it with him."

"don't you dare!" you exclaim. "there's nothing wrong with ollie, okay?!"

"then what is wrong with you? why can't you score ten points in nine races?"

that's it – you're going to completely lose it if this goes on for even one more second. "leave me the fuck alone," you tell him, turning your head away so he won't get a chance to see the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

the worst part of it all? the fact that you agree with him. the fact that you can't even argue against it; nine points in five rounds is not a good result at all.

surprisingly enough, he doesn't follow you when you hurry away, allowing you to get to the paddock alone. the silence doesn't mean you can hold back from crying, however; it doesn't take long before your cheeks are stained with your tears, your breaths growing quicker and quicker for every step you take. navigating the paddock with blurry vision is hard, and you're basically just relying on muscle memory to take you back to the right part of the garage. just as you're rounding a corner, you bump into someone – someone whose white suit and broad, muscular shoulders are easy to recognize even through your tears.

the other last person you want to talk to right now.

"hey there," he says, a hand coming up to your shoulder to keep you steady as you stumble a little upon the impact with his chest. "are you- woah, are you crying?"

"leave me alone, paul."

he lets out a little chuckle, one he regrets in hindsight because it makes him sound like he thinks the state you're in is funny. "i can't just walk away when you're this upset, can i?" he asks, having to use all of his willpower to hold back from wiping away a few tears from your cheeks. "is it about the crash? i'm not mad at you, and i don't think victor is either-"

"i couldn't care less about the stupid crash!" you explode, a few sobs following your words. "i'm just- i can't-"

paul's eyes widen in surprise at your outburst, hand on your shoulder slipping further along so he's got his arm draped across your shoulders and it's easier for him to force you to walk with him. now it's your turn to have to hold back, wanting nothing more than to lean into his chest and just let out all of your tears. he pushes you with him into the hitech truck, looking around the lounge area to make sure no one's there before guiding you to sit on one of the sofas there. "what's going on? did something happen?"

"i'm a bad driver, that's what happened." paul slumps into the seat right next to you, eyebrows raised when he hears you speak. "i don't belong here, i don't know what i'm doing, i-"

"hey hey hey," he cuts you off with a shake of his head. "what have we said about this?"

you look down at the floor, wiping away a few tears from your cheek as you continue to sniffle in the silence that fills the area. a burning feeling spreads through your chest at his words, the familiarity of it all making your head spin. it isn't the first time you've been like this in front of him; through the almost entire year you dated, there were quite a few times when he'd have to console you after a breakdown. paul knows your issues like the back of his hand, he knows how hard it can be to convince you that you do belong. but he also knows to never give up.

"you are a great driver," he starts, hesitating for a moment before letting his hand rub your shoulder. the action makes your breath hitch in your throat, but not because it's wrong – it's because you've missed his touch, probably far more than you've admitted to yourself before now.

"even my lousy dad thinks i'm bad," you finally get out in-between sniffles, resting your face in your hands.

"and since when do you care about his opinion, huh?"

he's right. at least partially. but still, you remain hunched over, shaking your head. "i may act like it doesn't matter, but… him calling me all kinds of things…" paul allows you to gather your thoughts, his touch remaining gentle over your racing suit. "it hurt. a lot."

he hums understandingly, letting out a sigh. "when is that stupid little brain of yours going to understand that you're doing well?" his words should bring a smile to your lips – a few months ago, they would've. but now, you don't react at all. "no matter what he says, no matter what the critics say. you're a good driver."

after another few moments of silence, you drop your hands to your lap and look at him. there's a hint of curiousity in his eyes, surprised by your sudden eye contact. "why do you even care?" you question. he's been acting like a complete idiot these past few months – and after you literally cursed him out in melbourne, you haven't spoken a word to each other. and yet, he's taking time out of his day to comfort you like he would a year ago.

"come on…" he presses his lips together in a firm line, shaking his head. "no matter what happens between us, i'll always look after you."

his words, and maybe especially your emotional reaction to them, take you by surprise. despite the anger and frustration you've built up over the last few months, there's an undeniable warmth in his gaze that softens your defenses. the feeling of nostalgia and longing is so strong it's almost painful, as if he has reminded you of a connection you thought had been lost forever.

it's quite strange, considering everything that's happened. but you're not opposed to it.

"how are you feeling after the crash?" paul asks to break the silence as you reach up to dry away the last of your tears from your cheeks. "that was a big impact you had. i got away lightly in comparison."

for the first time since the crash, you stop to actually think about it and allow yourself to feel through your body. the adrenaline from the race has worn off by now, and there's a throbbing in your head that seems to just grow stronger by the second. "i think… i'm alright…"

"do you want me to go get ollie for you? the race should be done by now," he says, checking the clock on the wall in the truck. "he can take you to go see a medic."

you shake your head instantly. "please, don't. for real."

paul shoots you a strange, confused look, though he gives you a slight nod. "okay, but you have to tell him," he says, pausing a second before continuing. "i know that head of yours, you're going to combust if you keep hiding this. you can't go through it alone."

"i promise."

you don't end up going to the medical center.

you do, however, go find ollie yourself – but you don't tell him about your chat with paul. instead, you hope he doesn't take notice of the not-so-subtle signs that you've just had a complete meltdown.

it's easy to break promises to people who you don't need to stay truthful to, you realize. last year, you wouldn't even think about breaking a promise to paul – but an ex boyfriend is much easier to lie to.

your current boyfriend wraps his arms around you the second you step close enough. his lips press to the side of your head, his arms giving you another squeeze before pulling away.

ollie has gotten used to your red eyes.

he's gotten used to the sight of your tearstained cheeks, the slight pout on your lips, the heaviness in your sighs.

he's gotten used to the sinking feeling in his stomach, the pain in his chest, the guilt.

but he's also gotten used to not asking, because he knows you won't tell.

when you wake up on feature race day, something is different. it's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders after talking to paul; like the air is suddenly much easier to breathe, and the whole world seems a little lighter. you're much more excited for the feature race of the day than any race so far this season.

in today's race, it's ollie's time to crash out. it isn't his fault, though; he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and got squeezed up against the wall by a trident car. there was nothing he could do.

as soon as he's deemed free of injuries, he makes his way back to the prema garage, joining the team in watching the rest of the race. it's a good one for you; choosing to go with the opposite strategy has really worked out for you so far, with you and zak o'sullivan being the only two drivers in the top who haven't pitted yet.

ollie follows your car intently on the screen in the garage, secretly hoping for a safety car to come out and help you out with your strategy as it's nearing the last few laps. he almost doesn't pull out of his trance even when a hand lands on his shoulder. "she's doing great," dino says from behind him, the brit nodding along to his words. "especially considering... well, she must've told you about yesterday, so i won't repeat it to you."

yesterday?

ollie looks dumbfounded for a moment before he composes himself, though he has no idea what the swede is talking about. "of course."

dino lets out a chuckle, patting his friend's shoulder. "paul said she was a complete mess when he found her," he continues, not realizing he's giving ollie more clues to help figure out what in the world he's talking about. "her anxiety was all over the place, apparently. but she's recovering, she's strong. she won't let this affect her."

ollie hums agreeingly at his words, eyes still glued to the tv in front of him. "certainly," he finally gets out. "she'll get through it with ease."

and so you did – at least for this particular race.

the virtual safety car was incredibly lucky, but that's racing sometimes. with both you and zak changing your tyres in the last lap, you both managed to end up ahead of the rest of the field, and secure a podium each.

unlike in jeddah, seeing paul's car pull up right next to yours on parc ferme isn't all that bad. after yesterday's heart-to-heart with him, you feel like at least part of this podium is thanks to him. if it weren't for his encouragement, you likely would've stuck it in the wall again.

you don't ignore him this time. you don't scoff at his words, you don't feel frustrated at his mere presence. this time, you give him a tight hug when he comes over to congratulate you, arms around his shoulders forcing him close.

"thank you," you can't help but whisper, and paul is grinning from ear to ear when he pulls away from the hug.

"don't," he answers with a quick shake of his head. "you could always pull this off. you just needed a little reminder."

and not only do your shoulders and mind feel a bit lighter as you step onto that monaco podium, but most importantly, your heart.

"i'm exhausted," you huff as you shrug your bag off your shoulders, leaving it by the door as ollie, too, makes his way into the hotel room. "thank god this weekend is finally over."

you dive onto his already-made bed, landing face-down between the pillows and blankets. the bed is huge, probably over two meters in width, and unbelievably soft. it's the first time you feel like you can truly relax since you got to monaco, and every single cell in your body thanks you for allowing them to rest a little.

"and i don't even have any sim sessions scheduled in over a week. i'm the luckiest person ever." ollie lets out a chuckle at this, his own bag crashing to the floor with a thud before his feet carry him deeper inside the room.

you turn your head and watch as he picks out a water bottle from the mini fridge, but he doesn't drink from it. instead, he makes his way to the bed, choosing to just stand next to it at first. you can't really read his expression, so you speak up – but he beats you to it. "ollie-"

"can we talk?"

you press your hands into the mattress, sitting up properly. "of course," you say, a look of unknowing dejection spreading across your features. "what's wrong?"

"that's... what i wanted to ask you, actually." ollie finally sits down on the bed, but on the opposite side of it, far from you. "what's going on? what happened yesterday?"

"oh, well..." you pause for a second, eyebrows rising as you try to find an explanation. "i just had a bad day, i didn't realize that the safety car-"

"i don't mean the race, i mean what happened after the race." his eyes are piercing into yours, not missing even the slightest movement of your face now. you've got his full attention. "with paul."

your breath hitches in your throat and you instantly look away. your voice is as low as a whisper when you speak again. "i can't believe he told you..."

"he didn't. it was someone else, but that's beside the point." you don't know if you should feel relieved that paul didn't tell ollie, or furious that he told someone else who then told ollie, but you don't have any time to think before his voice infiltrates your thoughts again. "i heard you were... i'm not going to use the same word he did, but i heard you were really upset. something about anxiety, or..."

he hopes you'll pick up where he trailed off, and despite how you're really not in the mood for this conversation right now, it feels unavoidable. "i guess... yesterday's race was really rough on me. and my racing has felt really bad recently, the anxiety has been through the roof, and..." your eyes land on your hands, watching as your fingers tremble slightly in your lap. "i don't know. something about yesterday just triggered it all again."

out of the corner of your eye, you can see ollie nodding understandingly. "how long have you been feeling like this?"

"since always, basically." a single teardrop rolls down your cheek before you even notice that you've started tearing up. you hurry to wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. "my mom likes to tell this story about how i used to cry if i performed poorly when i was jumping rope in kindergarten. or about how one time, i came home sobbing over the fact that i thought i was getting kicked out of kindergarten because my drawings weren't as good as the other kids'." the old stories bring a soft smile to your lips, one that soon disappears when you shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut. "it's not usually this bad, but…"

you sigh.

"it's like... imposter syndrome. i'm one of the very few women in motorsports, and i can't help but think that i'm just here because the fia wants to make the sport more equal. or because my sponsors think it's funny to have a woman among the men. or if i'm just here as eye candy. i don't deserve this, i don't have enough talent."

your little rant makes him speechless – both because he didn't expect it at all, and because to him, you're so wrong.

"you're here because you do deserve it and because you consistently perform good results, unlike most other drivers. that has nothing to do with your gender." ollie pauses for a second. "if you didn't have enough talent, you wouldn't be performing this well in a series this hard."

you can't hold back the little smile that slips onto your lips. "this is all very sweet, and i really appreciate it. but it's not that easy for me to just accept what you're saying."

yet again, he nods. "i understand." his voice is so calm, so gentle, so patient. it makes your heart soften. "i'll make sure to remind you of it more often, so that maybe it sticks."

"thank you, ollie."

a long silence follows, and you take the time to brush away a few more tears that have left your eyes. you don't know what to say or how to follow up on this heavy subject, but you don't have to think much more.

"why did you go to paul instead of me?"

your eyes dart to him at the sudden question. he's sounded so composed and calm, but he actually looks quite... nervous? his fingers are fiddling with the lid of the water bottle in his hands, and his entire upper body looks like it's trembling slightly as he breathes. "i didn't," you tell him simply. it's not a lie, per se. "he just happened to walk in on me crying."

"but why did you tell him?" ollie questions, looking up at you from the bottle. "i thought you two weren't even talking these days? ever since that fight you had?"

he is right. you don't even know why you confided in him yourself – it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. you didn't even try to deny his help; you welcomed it (and him) with open arms.

"we talked about my struggles last year," you finally say, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. "so he knew already. and… i don't know, i guess it felt nice to talk to someone who really knows me."

"but i want to know you." he takes a deep breath before continuing. "i want to know more than your birthday and your favorite color. i want to know it all; what makes you feel good, what makes you anxious, what keeps you going, what slows you down..."

the physical distance between you two may only be a mere two meters, but you feel much more separated than that. you totally understand where he's coming from – he might be exaggerating a little, but your conversations with him are never really deep. though not sure whether it's because you just don't trust him or because you just have a hard time opening up, you can understand the despair he must be feeling.

when ollie notices that you aren't too keen on saying anything, he keeps going. "i want you to trust me. i want to be the person you tell these things to." he scoots closer to you on the bed, one of his hands landing on top of your knee. "i really want to make this work between us. my feelings for you are so strong, just..."

the pain in his eyes is so intense it sends a shiver down your spine, his gaze cutting through you like a knife. your own eyes begin to well up again, but you can't look away now.

"i really want you to give this, give me, a chance."

you've never seen him like this before. hopeless, desperate, practically begging. and in an instant, the guilt comes creeping back into you.

you're the one who's making him feel like this; it's all your fault. and how cruel wouldn't it be to not at least give him an honest chance?

"of course." your voice is weak and shaky, but you nod. "i want that, too. really."

ollie drops his water bottle to the floor before opening his arms wide for you. "come here."

it's easy to climb into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he holds you close. it's easy to lean into him, to inhale his sweet scent, and it's so easy to relax.

you wish it was as easy to open up to him. oh, how badly you wish it was as easy as a-b-c or do-re-mi. you really want to let him in; you, too, want this to work.

the silence that follows is a comfortable one. the air feels thick with unspoken emotions, a heaviness of the previous conversation still lingering, but there's an unspoken understanding between you and ollie. the previously well-known weight of the world on your shoulders seems to lift, if only momentarily; his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back is like a silent reassurance that he's there, he's present, and he's willing to wait for you to open up in your own time.

after what feels like an eternity, ollie breaks the silence. "let's do something. let's go on a vacation together."

you lean back slightly, just enough to look at his face but stay in his hold. "…what?"

your reaction isn't exactly what he had hoped for, but he goes on. "i'm going back to italy this week, you should come with me." he reaches up with a hand to your face, thumb softly massaging away the frown you hadn't even noticed had formed. "we'll travel around, go see the national parks, hike in the mountains... swim in the sea, eat at good italian restaurants..."

your features soften at his suggestions; it all does sound very sweet. still, you can't hold back from asking, "but why?"

"we have almost a month until the next race weekend, and you said that you don't have any sims this week. this could help take your mind off racing, and..." a sheepish smile appears on his face. "maybe it could make us get a little closer."

uncertainties and conflicting thoughts continue to cloud your heart, making the decision harder than it should be. on one hand, accepting the offer could offer a much-needed reprieve from all the pressures of the racing world. on the other hand, your unresolved feelings for paul still hold you back. spending a romantic holiday with ollie sounds like a dream, just as much as the mere thought of revealing yourself to him makes you nauseous from the fear.

but you want to be brave. and maybe to let go of paul, you need to just forget about your worries and dive head-first into ollie.

"it sounds perfect. let's do it."

yourusername just posted!

yourusername we're back baby!! leaving monaco with some good points. 🔜 barcelona and the team's home race, let's go 😁

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user finally back on the podium! ❤️💙

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user great drive today !!!

→ user it was just luck 😭 without the vsc she would've never gotten that podium

→ user okay and??

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olliebearman what's up with the hair dinobeganovic_

→ yourusername it's called fashion

→ dinobeganovic_ it's called waking up at 5 for a feature race

→ user you're still gorgeous dino 😚

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

redbulljuniorteam 💪💙❤️

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

sebasmontoya58 pepe don't punch the girl, she did nothing wrong

→ yourusername i did nothing wrong!!!

→ pepemartiofficial tell him what you did

→ yourusername never

→ pepemartiofficial sebas check your whatsapp

→ yourusername YOU WOULDNT

→ pepemartiofficial i totally would

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30somethingautisticteacher · 2 months ago

Note

Yay! Congratulations on 300! My brains are too full of boogers to come up with a prompt, but I will take any kind of fluff that your lovely mind will give me. ❤️

Kay! I am sending all the healing vibes to you 🫶 lucky you...you actually got a full fic!

Enjoy ❤️

@herrmannhalsteadproduction

****

Tommy's uncanny ability to anticipate surprises was both impressive and frustrating to Buck. No matter how hard he tried, Buck could never catch his boyfriend off guard. It seemed Tommy had a sixth sense for detecting when Buck was plotting something special.

One lazy Sunday afternoon, as they lounged on the couch, Buck couldn't help but voice his frustration.

"How do you always know?" Buck asked, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "It's like you have some kind of surprise-radar."

Tommy chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's because you're a terrible liar, baby," he explained, reaching out to ruffle Buck's hair affectionately. "You get all squirmy and nervous, and you have zero poker face."

Buck pouted, but there was no real annoyance behind it. "I do not get squirmy," he protested weakly.

"Oh, you absolutely do," Tommy countered, pulling Buck closer. "Your eyebrows do this little dance, and you start fidgeting with anything within reach. It's actually pretty adorable."

Buck buried his face in Tommy's shoulder, groaning dramatically. "Great, so I'm a human mood ring. No wonder I can never surprise you."

Tommy pressed a kiss to Buck's temple. "If it makes you feel any better, I love that about you. Your transparency is one of the things I fell in love with."

Buck lifted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'll just have to work harder at being mysterious."

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. "Good luck with that, Mr. Open Book. But hey, feel free to keep trying to surprise me. I enjoy watching you squirm."

Continue reading on Ao3!

#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #engaged #bucktommy endgame #300 followers #30sat writes

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semperama · 26 days ago

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Several Sentence Sunday

@playinginthunderstorms tagged me in several share-a-snippet day things in the past few weeks, and so have other people probably, and I never had anything to share, but TODAY I HAVE WRITTEN WORDS!! MANY WORDS!! I might even actually finish the Will Fic either tonight or tomorrow!!! Yay!!!! Here's a little bit:

He gets on the highway going north. Oregon might be nice, the gray and the gloom, the constant drizzle. He’s seen pictures of the coast with its jagged rocks and choppy surf and thinks that would suit him, now, more than sun and palm trees. Or maybe he’ll keep going all the way to Canada. He’d probably need to get recertified to be a firefighter up there, but that might be nice, to earn it again. To put in the work and prove to himself he can still do something right. He makes it twenty miles before he swerves across two lanes of traffic to take the next exit and turn around, his heart pounding, his hands sweaty on the steering wheel. He just—he can’t do it. The last words Eddie said to him were tainted with anger, and Buck couldn’t even look him in the eye. That can’t be the way this ends. It’ll fucking kill him, if that’s his last memory of their time together. He’ll go back and sleep off this awful, sucking despair, and in the morning he’ll go back to Eddie’s and apologize, help him pack up his life, help him sell his house. He’ll hug him goodbye, face tucked into his neck so he can imprint the way he smells into his brain forever. And then he’ll watch him drive away. What was he thinking, trying to change this fundamental truth? Buck can’t be the one to leave. He’s meant to be the one left behind.

Tagging @wildehacked, @sonofatoasterwaffle, @wimbledon2008, @sibylsleaves

#buddie #911 show #911 abc #my writing

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menlove · 1 month ago

Note

read I've got you under my skin today and am absolutely obsessed, do you have any other age gap fic recs?👀

a few yeah !!

here ya go !

your lucky break

17k. explicit. When Paul was nine years old, he watched John Lennon sing Twist and Shout on Sunday Night at the London Palladium. Where Paul is a rising singer in the 1970s who grew up idolizing performer-turned-producer John Lennon. notes: by my darling dearest @forthlin i'm sure you've read it but this fic is seriously just so beautiful. i love you twink paul. i have said everything under the sun about this fic but genuinely miles just Gets Them. i love how obsessed with each other they are.

bright are the stars, dark is the sky

explicit. anonymous: Hey I'm not sure if this is a little too wild/taboo for you to consider, but I really love the idea of 1960s John developing a crush/having the hots for his friend/bandmate's young father (otherwise known as older!Paul). If you would consider it (if you have time, of course), I would be ecstatic! notes: this is 2 chapters of Unchained_Daisychain's smutlet series and i think about it a lotttt like so much. it's so good and awful in the hottest way. i love when paul has to struggle against these darker parts of himself yay

Lonely Hearts Column

19k. explicit.

It’s a section of the newspaper Paul flips past every Sunday without a second thought. It was a crutch for people more romantically desperate than himself. No matter how yearning the single life sometimes leaves him, he’d never stoop to such means for love. But one morning a phone call from a random stranger draws more attention to the column than he ever wanted to give it. - He nibbles on his lower lip while it rings. A similar wave of emotions sweeps over him like every other hour of the day; anxiety seizes the muscles in his neck before the lack of reception deflates him like a balloon. After the fourth ring he considers hanging up. He waited too late and missed his opportunity. Reluctantly, he removes the phone an inch from his ear to hang up when the other line connects. notes: this one is soooooo. oh i love it. the dynamic here is just beautiful and also i love dilf paul more than anything.

In Bed

9k. explicit. The year is 1989. A friend from 1964 comes to visit. notes: godddd this one is sad. but also so beautiful. man. i think about this one a lot.

Two of Us

8k. unrated. John doesn’t have a clue why 19-year-old Paul has seemingly stepped out of a photograph and into his living room, but he’s had a painful lack of Paul lately, so he can’t really complain. notes: this one was soooo beautiful like oh my god. something about 70s john with like 60/61 paul always makes me absolutely insane.

new york city is a crowded place

5k. gen. No amount of time with Paul—touching, kissing, talking—was ever enough. Whatever he felt was never stagnant: it ran deeper than he could possibly see, the widest and wildest of rivers. And distance, he was beginning to realise, could only ever keep it at bay for so long. notes: this one was a gift from my lovely secret santa @alameda444 and it is SO good. it's the only gen one on the list but don't let that put you off from it- it's absolutely gorgeous. it says so so many interesting things about john & i could read it 20 times.

#mclennon #fic recs

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inkandiridescence · 3 months ago

Text

The Start of Something New

This is chapter one of something I've been writing yay

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

Every year on Oscar Sunday my family and I would make our own pizzas and eat in front of the TV watching our favorite actors win awards.

"You know one day..."

"You're going to be on that stage. We know, you say that every year." My dad says with a teasing grin. I would smile into my bite of pizza before going back to cheering on my favorite film of the year.

This year is different though. This year I'll be ordering my pizza and eating it in my hotel room. This year I'll call my parents and tell them "I told you so."

Sure, I haven't actually been nominated (yet) but presenting an award is pretty cool too. Especially at my age. At first, I was a little upset that my movie hadn't gotten nominated, but it's still an honor to be a part of the show.

I'm smoothing out my dress when I hear a knock on the door. I don't get a word out before my agent rushes into the room.

"Kiddo you look stunning." She says and I smile to myself in the mirror.

"Thank you lucy. I mean I gotta look good, Billie Eilish might be there." I say and shoot her a smirk through the mirror.

"I mean, she probably will be. This is her first-ever nomination." My eyes widened.

"Don't get my hopes up. Dude, imagine she actually wins. I would hand her the award oh my god." Lucy laughs and picks up a necklace.

"That would be a sight to see for sure. Oh, by the way, Matt was looking for you." I roll my eyes.

"He knows I'm getting ready. I told him five thousand times." She laughs before patting my shoulder, "He just wants to make sure you're okay. He really cares about you." She gives my arm a quick squeeze, "Car will be here in ten. Come down soon." I nod and look back toward the mirror.

Matt and I have been dating for almost two years. Our relationship is kind of rocky, to say the least. Sometimes he's really loving and sweet and other times it's like I don't even have a boyfriend. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Everyone would always tell me how they felt when they saw their boyfriend. How giddy and happy they would feel. I don't feel any of that. Even when he's being all lovely. I don't know, maybe there's something wrong with me.

——

As we pull up to the carpet I see the many many flashes of lights. Butterflies erupt in my stomach as it finally hits me. I'm at one of the most prestigious award shows. Holy shit.

Matt grabs my hand and gently squeezes it. I smile and look at him just to see that he's recording it. Again. I pull my hand away and open the car door without waiting on someone to do it.

The cheering gets louder as I step out making me blush. Matt gets out right behind me as we line up to start walking down the carpet.

"Why'd you pull your hand away?" He asks while grabbing my hand again. "I don't want to talk about it right now." I say as Lucy hurries us onto the carpet.

"Alyssa over here!"

"Alyssa! Matt! Look here!"

"Give us a kiss!"

I smile and look at everyone, ignoring the last comment. Not quickly enough, Lucy comes over to take Matt to the end so I can take solo shots.

As soon as I'm finished I take a deep breath and walk over to Lucy and Matt. I grab Matt's hand and walk into the theater. We make our way over to our seats and sit down.

"So, we have time, why'd you take your hand away?" I sigh and face him, "I just hate how you can't be cute or whatever without filming it. Youtube isn't the only thing in the world you know." He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I know. And acting isn't the only thing in the world." He mumbles under his breath. I take a deep breath not wanting to start an argument now.

——

As the night goes on and awards are collected I grow more and more nervous. I'm backstage waiting for the commercial break to end before I go out to announce the winner of Best Original Song.

I almost shit myself when I hear the voice overhead. "Welcome back to the 94th Academy Awards. Here to announce the nominees for Best Original Song, It's Alyssa Greer." The audience claps as I walk out with a smile and wave. I take a second to admire the audience. I'm standing on the Oscars stage.

"Each of these pieces has powerful and engaging lyrical motifs, combined with dynamic instrumental storytelling that have touched our souls. They created an emotional experience that will remain with us long after the final credits. Here are the nominees for Original Song." I smiled and let out a small breath as the nominees played on the screen behind me. When it got to Billie's name I said a silent prayer that it was her. Suddenly the cameras were back on me.

"And the Oscar goes to...Billie Eilish and Finneas!" I smile. I see her and her brother get up and hug everyone. They make their way up to me and I hand Finneas his award first then Billie hers. She hugs me tightly, "Thank you, baby." My cheeks heat up and I can't stop smiling. Baby? You can't be doing that to be girl, I will go feral.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts and staring like a kid in love at Billie, that I didn't even realize they had finished their speech until I made eye contact with ocean-blue eyes. We walked off together, me trailing slightly behind the siblings.

"Congratulations Billie," I whispered in her direction before quickly making my way back to my seat.

——

The night seemed to drag on. The awards seemed a lot shorter when I was sat comfortably in my own home. But finally, finally, they were over. "Hey, baby we're going to the party right?" Matthew asked. I looked at him confused. "You know, the after-party?"

"Oh. Right. Sure yeah." He nodded his head happily and pulled me out of my seat to go get dressed in something more suitable for a party. I don't even know what I'm to do at this party. I can't legally drink, everyone here is much older and more famous than me. I'm gonna feel so out of place, and it won't help that Matt will just be vlogging everything.

Sighing I put on a tight sparkly top with matching dress pants. I look kinda hot. "Hey Al, you ready?" I hear from the bedroom. "Yup!"

We make our way down to the lobby and out the door into the car. Here we go.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #finneas #matt sturniolo #x reader

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shizucheese · 5 months ago

Text

Shizu's Official Pinned Post Yay!

Updated 10/31/2024: Added YouTube and Bluesky ^_^ Updated 1/29/2025: Kofi memberships and vtuber lore commissions now available!

Hey Everyone! I’m overdue to write a new pinned post for this blog, so here it is! I’ll be editing this as time goes by with new info, so be sure to follow me for update announcements! (As well as to know when I go live on Twitch, post new stories on AO3, and other writing news!)

I’m Shizu, and if we haven’t met before, it’s nice to meet you! I’m a queer romance and fanfiction writer, freelance editor, and Vtuber! If you want to follow me on Bluesky, you can find me here!

If you want to read my fanfiction, I mostly write BG3 fanfiction about my Tav Lysander and Astarion, and post Mag200 Magnus Archives fanfiction. You can find it here! Updates may be a little slow because besides my fanfics I'm also working on an original novel I want to get published, a story for Ko-fi and a story I intend to post on Patreon in the near future, but I can promise updates will come.

If you’re a writer and want to hire me to edit for you, my rates are listed below. Feel free to DM me here on Tumblr if interested, or email me at [email protected]! If you would like me to do an editing test ahead of hiring me to edit a full manuscript, I will edit up to 2 pages for free! I am also willing to negotiate a payment plan if you need one! Alternatively, you can commission me for my editing services via my Ko-fi if you would prefer to do it that way!

Proofreading: $10.00/ 1,000 words (or $0.01/ word)

Combing through your work to check and correct spelling, grammar and punctuation.

Copyediting: $15.00/ 1,000 words (or $0.015/ word)

Combing through your work to check and correct spelling, grammar and punctuation

Ensuring tone is consistent throughout your work

Ensuring that your work complies with the style guide you designate

Fact checking

Developmental/ Content Editing: $20.00/ 1,000 words (or $0.02/ word)

Feedback on narrative structure, characterization and world building

Notes on dialog, voice and tone

Highlighting any plot holes

Creation of a style sheet to ensure the spellings of names and locations in your story are consistent, as well as any other word use that might be unique to your story.

Buy me a Cocoa by supporting me on Ko-fi! Or commission me to edit for you! You can also become a Coffee Biscuit for $3/ month for access to the story I'm writing about my vtuber, Shizune Himebara, and her adventures as the magical girl, The Champion of Hope! First chapter is available for free! If you're a vtuber and you like what you read, you can also commission me to write things related to your vtuber lore! Bio (up to 500 words) - $20

Flash Fiction (up to 1,000 words) - $35

Short Story (up to 5,000 words) - $150

I don’t have a Patreon yet, but do have plans for one once I have enough of a buffer written for the story I intend to post there. Consider this a placeholder for when that happens.

Finally, if you want to tune in and watch me play video games or hang out while I write on stream, be sure to drop by my Twitch streams, where I play mostly Final Fantasy and other RPGs, the occasional visual novel, and if it’s October or if I get bullied enough by my chat, something spooky! I also do a writing stream on Fridays that I call Friday Night Writes where it’s all cozy chill vibes and communal support and productivity!

Streaming Start Times: Sunday: 4:30 Central

Tuesday: 7:30 Central

Wednesday: 7:30 Central

Friday: 8:00 Central

twitch_live

Edit: I'm also on YouTube now!

Finally, be sure to join my discord for streaming and writing news, as well as chill community fun times! (Streaming-related polls I hold here on Tumblr also get held in the Discord, so you can even double dip on voting if you want to!)

#pinned post #pinned intro #vtuber #final fantasy streamer #writer #writers on tumblr #indie author #editors on tumblr #fiction editor #vtuber lore #twitch streamer #twitch affiliate #twitch #ko fi link #buy me a kofi #ko fi support #kofi #ao3 #should I be putting my fandom tags here? idk...

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markiemelon · 2 years ago

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kiss it better

pure fluff

bf!renjun x gn!reader

—{7:07pm} ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

as much as you adored your boyfriend, renjun, he was a bit of a klutz… your so called ‘dates’ were practically babysitting. thank goodness he has you by his side, otherwise, he might set something on fire.

it was sunday night. it’s typical for you to invite renjun to your apartment so you can keep him from doing anything too stupid. you sat on your bed as you watched renjun sit at the desk in front of you, typing away at an essay due tomorrow. you admired how his pretty hands moved across the keys to make clicks and clacks. the rhythm almost lulled you to sleep, but of course, renjun, who might as well be your child, had something to say.

“done!” the boy said while closing the laptop that gleamed in front of him, darkening the room ever so slightly.

“yay. good job.” you yawned and rubbed your eyes simultaneously.

“now i just need to print it.” he jumped out of his chair. “do you have paper?”

“yes.” you gestured over to your dresser. “it’s in that drawer.”

renjun waltzed over to open the drawer and reached in to grab a sheet of paper.

“ow ow ow” renjun suddenly exclaimed.

“what, what?!” you ran over to the boy.

“paper cut.” he cried over-dramatically.

you slouched a little in relief after remembering that renjun is just a drama queen, and it’s not actually the end of the world.

“yn,” he tried to pout while holding in his laughter, “it really hurts.”

“knock it off renjun.” you scoffed and turned around to walk back to the bed until renjun grabbed your shoulder and pulled you into his chest.

“kiss it better.” he said while pulling you closer.

“renjun. you’re way too old.” you tried to squirm away from his embrace.

“ynnnnnn” he whined. “ow ow owwwwwwww it really hurts.” he tugged on your arm.

you rolled your eyes before picking up his hand and placing a gentle kiss onto the teeniest tiniest cut on his pinky. “there. feel better now?”

“almost.” he replied, now pointing to his cheek, “it hurts here too.”

and so you kissed his cheek softly.

“and here.” this time pointing to his other cheek. then his nose. then his forehead. then his lips. the next thing you know, you’re kissing renjun all over the place.

“there.” you patted his cheeks. “all better now.” turning back to your bed, renjun pulls you in again.

“wait.” he whisperd. “bandaid.”

you slapped his shoulder playfully. “it’s not even bleeding! you can barely see it—”

“owwwwwww” you were cut off by renjun’s whining.

“fine. I’ll go get one.” you brought back a bandaid and wrapped it around renjun’s pinky, placing it over the invisible wound.

“now draw a smiley face on the bandaid.” renjun made yet another request.

you reached for a marker and traced over the surface of the bandage.

“ow that hurts.” he let out a very unnecessary whimper.

“you and i both know that didn’t hurt.” you said.

renjun looked to you and smiled. “it did! so can you at least do one more thing?”

“what, renjun.”

the boy looked down to his hand, and held out his bandaged finger in front of you.

“can you kiss it better?”

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

thx for reading! pls send requests ! ＾＾

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enmuslullaby · 2 years ago

Note

Could you please make where reader goes off on Sebastian for misgendering grell 🥺 maybe a little spice in it 😊😊

yay, my first request!! hope what I came up with lives up to your expectations! enjoy <3

TW: slight transphobia

“What in the devil are you wearing, Grell?”

It was late Sunday night, and you had decided to take Grell to a fancy French restaurant as a treat for working herself to the bone during the previous week. You had left your date at the dinner table briefly to use the bathroom, and when you returned, this is what met you.

Sebastian Michaelis, hunched over the table. You were pretty sure it was his voice that you heard just now addressing your reaper’s attire. Deciding to watch the interaction from afar, you stalled next to the large potted plant and peered at the two.

“What am I wearing? It’s quite obviously a dress, darling.” Grell beamed, her sharp teeth on full display. She seemed quite satisfied with her outfit of choice. And she should be: the woman looked stunning in that wine-red dress of hers.

Sebastian, however, did not seem as pleased. “Yes, I can see it’s a dress. Something a man such as yourself should not be wearing.”

That was when you chose to intervene. You absolutely hated it when anyone misgendered Grell, and would always defended her and corrected the person whenever it happened. This was one subject that you absolutely refused to back down on. And at this point, you were absolutely sick of seeing this happen to your girlfriend over and over again.

Needless to say, Sebastian was rather surprised when you walked up to the table and exclaimed, “She’s a girl!” Sebastian opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off. “Look, does she not seem feminine to you? She’s very clearly a lovely young lady!” You gesture to Grell’s long silken hair and the short ruffles of her dress. “Please refer to her as a girl from now on.” With that, you paid the bill for the meal and took Grell’s hand to exit the restaurant, leaving Sebastian to stand there awkwardly.

You walked hand-in-hand with Grell down the uneven London sidewalks, silent for a few minutes. A gentle breeze tickled your cheek as you walked.

Then, Grell spoke. “Darling… you didn’t have to yell at Sebastian for calling me a man back there.” she said in a soft voice.

“But I wanted to. I’m sick of people calling you a boy, because you’re not.” you replied, stopping to cup Grell’s cheek in your palm. “You’re my gorgeous queen, you know?”

Grell couldn’t help but smile at these words. “I know. Thank you, my love.”

She slowly leant into your touch until your forehead was touching hers, still smiling gently.

Then she pressed her soft lips against yours. At the taste of Grell’s favorite cherry-flavoured lipstick, you felt yourself melt into her touch. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her closer, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your red reaper. Grell’s lips parted just enough to let your tongue slip past and run itself over her sharp teeth. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Grell’s throat as you continued to kiss her.

After a while, you pulled back, breathless, to stare at her crystal-like chartreuse eyes. Her cheeks were flushed a sweet shade of pink and her lips moist and ready for another smooch.

But you held back. You took her hand again and pulled her along the sidewalk. “Come on, my queen, we’d better not be late for that show!”

“Ooh, yes, I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world! What was it about again?”

“High school girls having drama with a little bit of murder on the side.” You replied, grinning at Grell.

The red reaper smiled back. “Sounds like exactly my cup of tea.”

You let out a laugh. “That’s exactly why I chose this musical. Now come on!” Picking up your speed, you sprinted down the sidewalk giggling, hand in hand with Grell, ready for your next adventure.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #grell sutcliff #grelle sutcliff #grell x reader #sebastian michaelis

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filthyjoetini · 2 years ago

Text

Love is in the Air(BnB)

a/n: Part 7! Sorry it took me so long..also, this is the last part of this story but there will be an epilogue! Yay! Thank you again to @barfightzanddiscolightz for being so patient with me and your time and effort and friendship, I looove youu. And THANK YOU, my loves, for reading. I never could’ve imagined that this little idea of mine would become this big. I loved receiving your feedback and your messages. Anyway, enjoy!

warnings: just so many emotions. Don’t get whiplash!

wordcount: 5k

part 1 - Friday night - part 2 - Saturday - part 3 - Sunday - part 4 - Monday - part 5 - Tuesday - part 6 - Wednesday - Epilogue

Thursday

Yawning, you toyed with the sausages and baked beans of the full English breakfast that Wesley had treated you to on your final morning at his and Joe’s flat. Occasionally, you’d take a bite of the food in front of you. You hadn’t slept at all last night, too afraid to miss precious time with Joe. The man in question was sitting beside you, silently watching you play with your food, nibbling on a fried mushroom.

Joe had fallen asleep rather quickly after a sweet kiss goodnight and yet another promise that you’d make it work. You guessed that dealing with your doubts must be very exhausting for him, so you decided to just watch him sleep. Occasionally, he would mumble in his sleep and even form fully comprehensible sentences. Some of them were odd and made no sense at all whilst others were just plain out funny. You had to pull yourself together so you wouldn’t laugh out loud. Most of the time, he slept peacefully, and you liked to think that your gentle touch through his hair and comforting back rubs played a role.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, you set down the fork next to your plate and ran both of your hands down your face.

“Everything alright, love?”, asked Wesley, his mouth full of baked beans.

“Yeah…sorry, I’m just not that hungry, but the food is delicious.", you replied apologetically.

Wesley swallowed down his bite of food and smiled at you compassionately. As you looked at his kind face, guilt washed over you because you knew how much effort he had put into the breakfast you had silently watched him prepare. Determined not to disappoint him, you picked up your fork again and forcefully stabbed a whole sausage with it, quickly biting off half of it. Joe raised an eyebrow at you, stifling a laugh, whilst Wesley couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Hey, you don’t need to force yourself to eat it.”, Wesley explained, still chuckling after you had swallowed your bite of sausage. “If you want, we can pack it into a container so you can take it with you and eat it on the plane.”

You nodded curtly and set down your cutlery once more, pushing your plate away from you and instead picking up your morning tea, gingerly bringing it to your lips.

“OK.”, Wesley announced after he had cleared his plate, rising from the chair. “I have to leave soon…oh come on, love, no, no, no…no sad faces right now.”, he chided you softly when he noticed your teary eyes and downturned lips. Joe immediately leaned over from his chair and placed a gentle kiss to your temple, tenderly resting his hand atop yours, which was now gripping the table’s edge. He soothingly rubbed your hand, trying to get you to relax your grip. Eyes unfocused, you stared blankly at the wall across the table. You weren't ready to say goodbye to Wesley just yet; you needed more time.

Wesley, whose face was now also reflecting sadness, knelt beside you and lightly tapped his finger on your thigh. Slowly, you blinked, refocusing your gaze, and turned to face him. His hand now fully rested on your thigh, gently squeezing it.

“Love, believe me. This is hard for me too.”, he explained, a faint smile gracing his lips. “I mean, I gained a new bestie in a few short days. That doesn't happen often, you know. I’m so very glad I got to meet you, which is why I got you a little something. If you’ll follow me.”

Removing his hand from your thigh, Wesley stood up, extending his hand towards you. You looked at him, then at Joe, who managed to make you let go of the table. Now, your hand was in Joe's, his thumb tenderly caressing the side of yours. When you met his gaze, he nodded softly, released your hand, and got up as well.

“Go on. I’ll take care of the dishes.”, he said, placing another kiss on your temple before starting to clear the table. You slowly rose from your chair, placing your hand in Wesley's open palm. He gently led you out of the kitchen and into the hallway, eventually stopping in front of the commode adorned with the various photographs that hung on the wall above it. Letting go of your hand, he opened the top drawer and pulled out a small envelope. He quickly shut the drawer again and slowly turned to face you, soft smile still playing on his lips as he held out the envelope to you.

“Here, this is for you.”

Gingerly, you took it from his fingers and slowly opened it. Inside were several photographs, which you carefully extracted and examined one by one.

The first one captured the lively night at the pub when you first met Joe and Wesley's friends. It showed you twirling and laughing with Becky and Dan whilst Felix, Jack, and Oliver were pictured behind you, gulping down their pints. Standing out amongst them was Joe, whose eyes were filled with adoration as he watched you. The next photo displayed the group’s broad smiles on the day at the lake, taken by Wesley using his phone’s self-timer. It was a fantastic shot. The third photo depicted you and Joe, cuddled up and sleeping on the sofa. You had been illuminated only by the hallway's ceiling light; the rest of the room shrouded in darkness.

You looked up at Wesley with a raised eyebrow to which he just shrugged and giggled.

“You both looked adorable. I couldn’t resist.”

You playfully shoved his shoulder, then shifted your attention to the last photograph. It captured Joe and you in a tight embrace at the pub the previous night, your heads resting on each other, as you were swaying gently. Somehow, Wesley had managed to capture just the two of you, with everyone else vanishing from around you.

You stared at the picture for what felt like an eternity when you noticed a few droplets forming on its glossy surface. Gingerly, you brought your free hand to your face, tracing the stream of tears with your fingertips. Wesley, who had been watching you intently, now engulfed you in his arms, holding you close to his chest.

A faint sob escaped your body and Wesley tried to calm you down, gently rubbing your back and shushing you softly.

“Tha-ha-nk yo-uh-hu…I’m…go-ho-nna mi-hi-ss you so-ho mu-hu-hu-huuuch.”, you cried into his chest, and he let you, continuing to stroke your back. You had tried so hard not to cry but to you, goodbyes were one of the worst things to go through and always resulted in you breaking out in tears.

Once your sobs had somewhat subsided, Wesley released his embrace and took the photos from your hand, returning them to the envelope. He placed it on the commode, then took your hands in his.

With tear-streaked cheeks, you finally looked up at him, noticing the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, which he managed to hold back. You silently wished you were as strong as him but here you were, a blubbering mess instead.

“You’re very welcome.”, he replied, swallowing hard. “I’m gonna miss you too…so much.” He turned to face the wall above the commode and spoke again. “By the way, I made copies of the pictures…well only of three of them…I can’t hang the one of you lovebirds on the sofa on the wall for everyone to see. It's a bit too intimate.”

Following his gaze, you saw three new additions to the photo wall. Sniffling, you let out a choked laugh at his reasoning, understanding the significance. It was an incredibly personal moment, and you were grateful he had captured it, even if Joe and you had been oblivious to it.

“There it is…”, Wesley smiled and hugged you once more. “I’m gonna miss that smile… can I share one more secret with you?

You nodded softly, and Wesley brought his lips to your ear.

"My loneliness wasn't the only reason I rented out Joe's room.", he confessed, prompting you to lean back and look at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't give me that look. It's not that bad... well, maybe it is a little bad, but hear me out, okay? So, yes, I was feeling lonely, but the money thing was a complete lie. I'm not struggling financially. The truth is, Joe has been miserable in his love life for a while. His dates never end the way he hopes. Most women figured out who he was and only wanted one thing from him. Sure, he had his fair share of flings, but as his best mate, I knew he wanted something more serious. I tried to help him, set him up on more dates, and we even tried countless dating apps. Nothing worked. Eventually, he gave up.”, he explained as you stood there, still in his embrace, shocked and feeling sorry for Joe. You couldn't imagine how challenging it must have been for him, knowing that women were only interested because of his newfound fame.

“So, you listed the room on AirBnB? Out of all places?”, you asked incredulously.

“Yes. I mean. I had a plan. Besides, I received numerous inquiries. I went through all of them, and then I saw you, and it felt perfect."

“Jesus Christ, Wesley.”, you scolded, wriggling out of his arms. “This could have gone in a completely different direction, you know."

“But it didn’t.”, he replied, sporting a smug grin.

“No, it didn’t…which is crazy.”, you agreed.

“Look, I noticed Joe's interest after your brief interaction the night you met. I just had to work my magic."

You rolled your eyes at him and eventually pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”, he retorted, returning your hug. "Just one thing, don't say a word to Joe about this, or he'll tear me a new arsehole.

“OK. I won’t tell him. But you definitely deserve a new one.”, you giggled softly, releasing a deep sigh.

Wesley let go of you and clapped his hands together.

“I’m really sorry, love. But I have to get going. My boss won't be pleased if I'm late for work again.”, he pouted, beckoning you into one more hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, Wes.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, love. Have a safe flight, and text me once you've landed.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes once more, but Wesley shook his head, planting a tender kiss on your now dried cheek, then releasing you for the final time.

“Take care.”

“You too.”

---

After Wesley had closed the door behind him, Joe enveloped you in an embrace from behind, and you leaned back into his chest.

“Are you alright?”

“Not really.”, you confessed, and he nodded, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You both stood there for a few minutes, motionless, until you finally spoke up.

“I have to finish packing my things.”

Joe nodded and hesitantly let go of you, taking your hand and leading you into his bedroom where your open suitcase and backpack were on the floor. Sighing, you eyed them warily.

"I'll go grab my toiletries. Baby, would you mind putting the rest of my clothes back in my suitcase? I'd appreciate it.”, you asked Joe with a defeated tone. Nodding, he approached the bed where a few items of clothing and two pairs of shoes were still laid out. He carefully picked up the shoes and placed them inside the netted compartment of your suitcase. You observed him for a moment, then turned and walked off to the bathroom.

Grabbing your washbag, you collected your scattered belongings, finding your hairbrush in the soap dish of the bathtub alongside your razor. Half of your lotions, face creams, and other skincare products, as well as your makeup, were scattered across the sink and floor. It took you ten minutes and two more searches through the cabinets and drawers until you were certain you had everything.

Closing your washbag, you returned to Joe's room to find him standing inside your suitcase with a huge grin on his face. You stopped dead in your tracks, raising an eyebrow and gaping at him in bewilderment. Shaking your head, you couldn't help but snort.

“What are you doing, Joe?”, you asked with a light chuckle, taking slow steps in his direction.

“I packed up the last of your things. Now all you gotta do is zip it up. If I curl up in a foetal position, you might be able to smuggle me through airport security.”, he explained animatedly. You took one more step forward, stood on your tiptoes and placed a soft peck to his lips.

“Oh, how I wish I could do that.”

Taking his hands in yours, you gently tugged at them, making him step out of the suitcase. As his feet touched the ground again, he leaned down slightly, capturing your lips in another tender kiss.

“I need to call a cab soon, my flight’s at 1:00 PM and it’s already 9:30 AM.”, you said, pulling away from the kiss. Kneeling down on one knee, you brought the suitcase closer, placed your washbag inside, and zipped it up.

“You don’t need to call a cab. I can drive you to the airport.”, Joe sweetly offered, helping you up from the floor and pulling your suitcase up as well.

“No, baby, you don’t have to do that.”, you politely declined, putting on your denim jacket and checking your trouser pockets for your phone, “Besides, didn’t you have an interview scheduled for this afternoon?”

“I cancelled it. Said I had a family emergency.”, he casually confessed. Your mouth fell open and your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at his nonchalant admission.

“Joseph Anthony Francis Quinn! You shouldn’t have done that. You can’t just put your life on hold because of me.”, you berated him, placing your hands on your hips. Joe initially looked incredulous, not expecting such a reaction, but upon seeing your flared nostrils and furrowed brows, he burst into laughter.

“I mean it! Don’t laugh at me!”

“You’re adorable, darling.”, he commented on your anger, taking the two steps that were in between you to close the distance. “Besides, right now, you and the limited time I have left to spend with you are more important than some silly magazine interview."

His lips were now mere millimetres away from yours and his arms wrapped around your waist. You released a shuddered breath, your anger melted away to be replaced with new tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. Softly, he hushed you, moving one hand to your face, delicately wiping away the unshed tears from your eyes down your cheeks and sealing his caress with his plump lips against yours.

In all the years you had spent on this planet, no one had gone out of their way for you like Joe had done multiple times these past few days. And that fact showed you how much he already cared for you. It was just very overwhelming for you to accept even the tiniest and most common gestures.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from his lips and cleared your throat, averting your eyes and looking down at your hands.

“Thank you.”, you whispered softly. “And sorry for chiding you.”

Chuckling softly, Joe shook his head and bent down to pick up your backpack, swiftly slinging it over his shoulder.

“It’s fine…go put on your shoes. We have to leave in five minutes otherwise you’re gonna miss your flight.”

At first, you didn’t move a muscle. Missing your flight seemed like a great idea, but then Joe moved behind you, placed his hands on your shoulders, and shoved you towards the hallway.

“Wait! I need to say bye to your bedroom!”

He rolled his eyes and went back to get your suitcase.

“Fine. I’ll wait by the door.”

He grabbed your suitcase by the handle and pulled it behind him to the bedroom door, playfully slapping your bum as he passed you, causing you to yelp softly.

“Idiot.”, you muttered under your breath, then turning to take one last look at his bedroom. You would miss his incredibly comfortable bed, which was ten times better than yours at home. And you would miss his so called “organised chaos”. But most of all, you would miss the time spent together in this very room. With a sigh, you turned and walked out of his room, closing the door behind you. Just as you were about to make your way down the hallway, the open living room door caught your attention. Glancing at Joe, who was now impatiently waiting by the front door and tapping his wrist, you nodded towards the living room, asking permission to say goodbye to it as well. He rolled his eyes once more, and you peeked inside the living room, soft smile on your face.

“Goodbye, living room. I will miss you.”, you said, then turned to the sofa, feigning disgust. "Although I won't miss you. You evil piece of furniture."

You heard a snort coming from down the hallway, followed by a whiny voice.

“Babe. Come oooon! It’s 10 o’clock! We have to go now.”

“OK, fine. I’m coming. Just tell me to my face that you want to get rid of me.”, you replied, exaggeratingly stomping towards him, crouching down, and deliberately putting on your shoes at an extra slow pace.

“Yes. Please. I can't stand having you around and taking up Wes's and my space any longer.”, he deadpanned, grabbing your hand and opening the door, practically dragging you out of the flat. You then rushed down the stairwell and out of the house to one of the parking spaces on the street where his car was parked.

He placed your suitcase in the boot before climbing into the driver’s seat and handing you your backpack.

“You ready?”

“No.”

“OK. Let’s go.”

---

Hand in hand with Joe, you patiently stood in the short queue at your airline's check-in counter, waiting to drop off your luggage. You thanked whoever was up in the sky that online check-in existed in these times you were living in because London’s traffic had once again proven to be a nightmare. It took you a gruelling hour and 15 minutes to reach London City Airport from his flat, and time was slowly but surely ticking away. You were well aware that in a couple of minutes you had to say goodbye to Joe and the uncertainty, not knowing when you would see him again, weighed heavily on your mind.

“…thank you. Here’s your receipt.”, the lady at the counter, whose professional smile showed a trace of sympathy, spoke to you, holding out your passport and receipt for you to take. Your mind being elsewhere, you didn’t notice that she was talking to you. Joe smiled at her and took your documents, exiting the queue to your left. As London City Airport was relatively small, you knew that taking the escalators upstairs would lead you directly to airport security. However, you weren't ready to go just yet because it meant leaving Joe behind.

Joe led you away from the bustling crowd, finding a quiet corner, his face displaying a sad smile. Seeing him like this almost made you break down on the spot. He spoke to you, but his words didn't register as you just saw him holding up his hand towards you, signalling for you to wait a moment. It finally sank in that this was it; you had to say goodbye. Your flight would start boarding in an hour. Shit - this means I only have 15 minutes to say goodbye to him. I’m not ready. No. No. Please. I am not ready!

Unaware of your inner turmoil, Joe had one hand rummaging through his pocket, his forehead creased in concentration, and his tongue peeked out from between his lips. You were blanky staring at him, tears burning in your eyes and lips trembling.

With a soft ahh he pulled something out from his trousers’ pocket and held it up in front of your face. Refocusing your eyes, you saw a delicate golden necklace, but what caught your attention was what dangled from it. You glanced at Joe’s hand and sure enough, his favourite ring was missing. The bulky sterling silver ring provided a striking contrast to the slender chain.

Your lips quivered and he motioned wordlessly for you to turn around which you did instantly. Once he had closed the clasp and laid the necklace gently against your skin, you turned around, covering your face with your hands as tears now silently flowed down your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t have, Joe.”, you mumbled into your hands. “This is your favourite ring.”

“And you’re my favourite person, so it’s only right that you keep it.”, he pulled you into his arms and you slung yours around his neck tightly, leaning up to press your lips against his. Suddenly, you felt a cool sensation on your arms and pulled back slightly to look up at who you now certainly could call the most important person in your life. He also had tears spilling down his face as he fought to hold back a trembling sob.

“Baby.”, you cooed softly trough your tears, pecking his lips again. “Thank you so much. I’m gonna wear it every day…I’m really sorry, I don’t have anything to give to you.”

“You don’t have to.”, he whispered back, his voice filled with tenderness. “Spending the past few days with you was enough to fill me with happiness. I will cherish every second right here.” He took one arm from around you and placed it over his heart, smiling softly through his tears, causing you to sob even harder.

Placing both hands on either side of your face, he drew you in for another deep, passionate kiss, caressing the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs. You kissed him back, leaving both his and your lips slightly swollen. Pulling back slightly, Joe whispered against your lips.

“Wanna know a secret?”

You nodded in response.

“I really, really like like you and I’m gonna miss you so so much.”

Sniffling, you nodded again, opening your mouth slightly to speak against his lips.

“Wanna know a secret too?”

Now it was his turn to nod, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I really, really like like you too and I’m also gonna miss you so so much.”

You were now both smiling against each other’s lips, tears still streaming down your faces, leaving salty trails on your chins, and staining your shirts and the floor below.

“Good thing we’re on the same page.”, Joe uttered, removing one of his hands from your face and wiping his with the sleeve of his thin jumper. “Otherwise, I might have had to take back my ring.”

You shook your head at his statement, pulling him closer to you again. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and moved his other hand, that was still on your face, to wipe away your tears.

“Come one, darling. Time to go upstairs.”

You nodded softly and he let go of you, taking your hand in his once more. Slowly, you two made your way up the escalators to where the queue for checking the boarding passes started. Joe pulled you aside once more, holding your hands in his.

“This is it.”, he started, and you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Please call me when you’ve landed. If you forget, I will take the next flight and personally make sure you got home safely.”

You tilted your head to the side, a quaint smile forming on your lips.

“Is that a promise?”

“Babe. No. It should be a threat.”, he groaned, throwing his head back.

“Sounds like a promise, though.”

“Shush, I’m not finished yet.”, he hushed you, letting go of your hands and briefly covering your mouth with his hand. “Please call me.”

You nodded, and he continued.

“I promise, I’m gonna call you every day. We can FaceTime. I love FaceTiming, even when I'm abroad for work, which will be soon. I'm heading to the United States for some conventions, and then I'll be filming my next major film in Morocco - Gladiator 2, baby! Can you believe it? But I'll call you whenever I can, even if it's the middle of the night for me or the early hours of the day. We'll make it work.”, he rambled, his hand still covering your mouth. It was kind of cute, listening to his word vomit.

You gingerly removed his hand from your lips and tenderly held it in yours.

“We also need to finish watching Stranger Things.”, you declared, glancing up at him, searching for his warm chocolate eyes.

“Oh, yes. We can schedule FaceTime dates and watch Stranger Things together.”, he smiled and nodded softly, leaning down to give your lips another peck. Just as he pulled away, your phone vibrated in your pocket, signalling that your flight would begin boarding soon. A lump formed in your throat. This was now it. This was goodbye. Overwhelmed, you couldn't hold back your emotions any longer. They had been building up inside of you for the better part of the last 24 hours and you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Your body shook violently with sobs and Joe pulled you into his chest, swaying you gently. Kissing your forehead, he whispered that everything’s going to be OK. You nodded stiffly against his pecs trying to regain composure. Giving yourself a couple of moments to even out your erratic breathing, you swallowed hard.

“I have to go now.”, you croaked out and Joe nodded against your hair. He cupped your face for one final time, placing the sweetest, most emotionally charged kiss on your lips, which you returned with equal fervour.

Pulling back, he kissed the side of your mouth, your cheek, and finally your temple before grudgingly letting go of you completely, leading you to the end of the queue. He stood beside you until your boarding card was checked and you were guided through the gate to join another queue for the security check. He gave you one final peck, and then you were out of his reach.

Joe had moved to a corner where he could still see you slowly advancing towards the luggage and body scanners. He was rubbing at his face, wiping away his tears and sniffling loudly, but kept his eyes trained on you and you did the same. With every second step you took, you would turn around and search his face. When it was time to turn the corner, you saw Joe blow you a kiss, which you caught and pressed against your chest. Returning the gesture, you blew a kiss back, and he even made a locking motion over his heart. You snorted softly, a small smile forming on your lips as you shook your head and waved one last time before disappearing behind the wall.

Joe watched you vanish around the corner, your hand still up and waving with that smile on your lips he had grown to adore, his hand still mid-air. He lingered there for about ten minutes before an airport staff member informed him that he couldn't stay in that area and asked him to return to the check-in hall. He apologised profusely and swiftly made his way down the escalator by himself when his phone chimed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a new WhatsApp message from you. You had made it through security and were now on your way to the gate. He smiled down at your message and immediately responded with a string of heart emojis, asking you to keep him updated.

He decided to leave the airport only once your flight had taken off, so he walked over to the waiting area and sat down on one of the seats. Whilst waiting for another update from you, his mind raced. He calculated dates and made mental adjustments, opening his calendar app to confirm his thoughts. Bingo. He was right. He quickly opened his contacts, scrolling through until he found this one particular person he was looking for.

Just as he was about to press the call button you updated him once more that you had boarded the plane which was now taxiing toward the runway and that you already missed him terribly. He replied that he missed you too and wished you the safest flight of all flights that had ever taken place and finished it off with the kissy-face emoji. You quickly sent one back yourself, informing him that you were switching to airplane mode now.

His last reply which read: “OK. Please call me when you’ve landed. You promised.”, showed only one tick, indicating that your phone was now truly in airplane mode. Sighing, Joe closed WhatsApp and returned to his contacts and pressed the call button.

He stood up slowly from the row of seats, making his way toward the exit of the airport and the car park. Joe almost hung up after the fourth ring when suddenly, the person he was looking for, answered the phone.

“Hey, Alex. Are you busy? No?...Good. Uhm, I just checked my calendar and realised I have nothing scheduled after wrapping up my new project…keep it that way.”

THE END

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