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#all she ever wanted to hear him say was 'I am proud of you' but she never did. and she blames herself for not being good enough
fire0nfire · 6 hours
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king of my heart | pt. 2
pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader
warnings: love triangle? kinda.
author's note: go get some popcorn cause we have some drama here🍿... and it's a long part, so enjoy!!
part 1 | part 2
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, frosenqvist, and 79,121 others!
yourusername Miami GP over and out ✅🏁 No words could ever explain just how grateful I am for all of you and for the opportunity that I get to cover this amazing sport with such incredible people by my side. Thank you for everything Miami, I hope to see you again soon! 🌴💖
user1 the power she holds 🙌
user2 she's really living my dream 🥹
lissiemackintosh so happy to be able to share this with you!! love u❤️
yourusername we really need to do this more often😘 love u too! user3 y/n and lissie hosting track tv together is my new roman empire fr user4 SLAY QUEENS!! user5 the queens are thriving user6 i wanna be friends with them so bad 😫
user7 omg girl you're STUNNING
user8 BEST F1 WAG
user9 facts facts facts user10 she's not even a wag lol it's so obvious lando just keeps this nobody around for when he's bored and horny user11 user10 this "nobody" has done SO much in terms of women representation in motorsport, she's hardworking and a lovely woman. meanwhile, you're just a sad little person who's jealous of her because she's successful and close to your crush, who doesn't even know who you are. so get a life and stop embarrassing yourself. user12 user11 SAY IT LOUDER 👏 user13 user11 PREACH!!!
user14 i don't know if i wanna be her or be with her😩
user15 this is such a mood tbh
landonorris so proud of you, boo😍
yourusername 🥰🧡 user16 YNLANDO NATION WE WON user17 we love a supporting boyfriend 🤩 user18 i want what they have, your honor user19 is this considered a soft launch or what? user20 y'all are delulu😂 it's so obvious they're just friends user21 user20 girl being delulu is the solulu 🙌
user22 so when are we gonna talk about felix liking the post?
user23 i'm lost sorry, who's felix? user24 user23 he's pato's teammate in indycar and one of his besties user25 if felix liked then WHERE'S PATO user26 user25 doing more important things than being focused on this girl.
lilymhe such a pretty girl 💗
alex_albon should i be jealous? yourusername you should indeed. can u fight? user24 the friendship i didn't know i needed 🥹 user25 MY FAV WAGS INTERACTING YAY
user26 f1 is so lucky to have you!!!
user27 LOOOL why would they be lucky to have her?😂😂😂 she's nothing special user28 user27 and yet she's still rising 💅 user29 user27 then why are you even on her post? lol obsessed much?
user30 my role model ❤️‍🩹
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📞 incoming call
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[y/n; normal] [pato; cursive]
"...Hello? Did you butt-dialed me or something?"
"Uhm, hi. It's not a butt-dial. I-I actually just wanted to talk to you. Hear your voice, y'know. I've been kinda missing you."
"Oh really? And here I was thinking that your cold behavior toward me over the past three weeks meant that you didn't want anything to do with me. Silly me, I guess."
"I-I'm... [sighs]. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. About the way I've been treating you. I'm sorry, y/n. I really am sorry. I know I've been a total jerk-"
"Yeah, you can put it that way."
"...I've been a total jerk and I regret it very much. You didn't deserve it at all. I just- I'm not trying to excuse my awful behavior but I just think I got- Uhm..."
"You got what?"
"Well... I saw Lando's instagram story when you went back to Monaco, as you've probably already figured it out. And I think- Well... I got jealous. And I know it probably sounds stupid now but at the time it felt like a punch in the face."
"Pato..."
"I know I didn't and still have absolutely no business to be jealous about you and Lando, cause you and I are not dating or anything and you don't owe me any kind of explanation about the type of relationship you have with him. But after the great time we spend together in Long Beach... I don't know, it just hurted seeing you with him. But that doesn't excuse anything and I just regret so much the way I've been treating you since then, it hasn't been fair to you at all."
"And it didn't cross your mind that we could have had this conversation way before now? I mean, you waited three weeks to finally talk to me like a decent human being, how-"
"I know and I'm so-"
"Let me finish."
"Sorry, go on."
"However, I do appreciate that you're finally acknowledging all of this and communicating with me like an actual adult. I know it's not always easy to do. And although I don't owe you any kind of explanation, I just want you to know that there's nothing going on between Lando and me."
"So you and him...?"
"We're friends and that's it. We care for each other but there's nothing going on."
"Oh... well, thanks for clarifying that for me."
"Yeah, yeah. You'll have to work harder for my forgiveness, anyway. I appreciate the call but it won't be that easy for you."
"Is that so?"
"You've heard me."
"In that case, what would you say if I invite you for a few days to come here to Punta Mita? Maybe that'll help me a little to earn your forgiveness."
"... I'm sorry, what!?"
"You've heard me."
"You're joking. You have to be joking."
"I'm not joking. You're still in Miami, right?"
"I am..."
"Great! My brother in law is in Miami too and he'll take the jet tomorrow morning. If you want to, you can join him and come here with him! We'd be thrilled to have you here too."
"Oh my God... Pato, I don't know what to say!"
"Say yes and you'd make this birthday boy the happiest man in the world. You'd even make my sister happy, I've been telling her a lot about you and now she's eager to meet you."
"I hope you've been telling her good things about me, then."
"Only the best. She's even on your side, y'know. Said I was being a giant cabrón and needed to make things right. She wasn't wrong tho."
"[giggles] Fine. I'll go, but I'm only doing this for your sister."
"I'll take that anyway! I'll let Brett know you'll join him and I'll send you the details, okay?"
"Okay!"
"Now go and pack your bags for tomorrow."
"Hey! Don't get bosy with me, mister!"
"[Laughs] Fine. Take care, I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you, birthday boy!"
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patriciooward posted to his story!
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[caption 1; 🦈] [caption 2; beautiful views]
yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; para-para-paradise 🌞] [caption 2; in his sharkboy era] [caption 3; 🐶❤️]
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paddockgossips
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liked by magui_corceiro and 84,091 others!
paddockgossips Among the alleged "breakup" between y/n and Lando, the McLaren driver was photographed last night having fun in a Monaco club in the company of Max Fewtrell and other friends. Some sources have said that Lando seemed very cozy with a blonde woman at the party, whom he later left with. However, we cannot verify this information in any way, so it remains a rumor.
user1 I HAVE A CHANCE AGAIN (i'm delulu)
user2 so this confirms ynlando is over?? 😭
user3 girl i'm devastated 😭😭😭 user4 i'm still in denial user5 well they were never together to begin with user6 user5 THIS!! people act like they were a couple when they NEVER confirmed anything 😂
user7 "blonde woman at the party" "it remains a rumor" and magui goes and like the post LOL
user8 she's so desperate for attention🙄 user9 who's magui??? user10 user9 she's kika's friend and she was dating football player João Félix not so long ago (in fact, i thought they were still together lol) user11 user10 and don't forget she's a cheater. user12 user9 she's trouble
user13 yn >>>>>>>> magui
user14 user13 no need to compare them
user15 sorry but single lando it's so hot 🥵
user16 SO TRUE user17 FACTS he looks so good omfg
user18 in his heartbreaker era 😎
user19 in his reputation era 😎 user20 in his idgaf era 😎
user21 i'm a child of divorce fr
user22 i know y'all love y/n for some reason but i'm SO glad lando finally got away from her.
user23 SAME. and if magui makes him happy then great for him user24 stfu i'm mourning here
user25 y/n this magui that but max was, is and will forever be lando's true wag💅
user26 the one and only indeed
elbaoward posted to her story!
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[caption1; off to dinner] [caption2; my love🤍] [caption 3; lovebirds!]
patriciooward
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liked by landonorris, yourusername, brettkimbro, and 86,382 others!
patriciooward BDAY WKND DUMP 📸 thank y'all for all the love❤️‍🔥
user1 THE HARD LAUNCH IT'S HARD LAUNCHING
user2 OMG IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CAAAAALM
user3 he really said i'll give you what you want: thrist traps and y/n... and he's so real for that
user4 he really knows his audience user5 king behavior if u ask me user6 everybody say thank you Pato 🙏
user7 YNPATO NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING??
user8 I'M STILL SPEECHLESS user9 they're so perfect i wanna cry😭 user10 LOVE TO SEE🔥
user11 as a ynlando shipper i have to admit they're cute but ngl this still hurts 😩
user12 MOOD user13 ynlando will always be in our hearts 🥺 user14 ynlando >>>>>>>>>> ynpato user15 user13 girl grow up.
user16 THAT SHOULD BE ME
elbaoward where are my credits for the last pic? cuties🤍
user17 u literally gave us the cutest pic ever user18 elba thank you so much for your service🫡 user19 elba is ynpato's #1 fan and you can't tell me otherwise user20 elba is just like us fr user21 LOVE YOU ELBAAAAA 🩷
user22 MOM AND DAD
user23 can't believe how fast she moved on and got together with this dude lol lando really dodged a bullet with her
user24 how fast she moved on?? girl y/n and lando were never even together so stfu user25 ???? why are you even on pato's ig post? go away user26 user23 y/n is such an attention seeker and yet everyone loves her, i'll never understand it 🥱
user27 not to be that person but i would KILL to be that piñata😏
user28 MOOD
frosenqvist oh to be tanned, young and in love
patriciooward 😜 user29 IN LOVE??? FELIX BESTIE TELL US MORE user30 i don't know about y'all but this is all the confirmation i need about ynpato being real, bye user31 i think i can hear the wedding bells user32 user31 yesss and felix as pato's best man
user33 bestie don't be shy and drop more y/n pics 🫶
user34 i second the motion !!!
user35 NOT LANDO LIKING THE POST LOOOOL
user36 he is so unserious i love him user37 ICONIC BEHAVIOR TBH user38 yeah but i just know he's crying inside user39 user38 for what? lol lando knows he's so much better than this cheaper version of him. user40 user39 i'm so done with people like you who insult pato just because you cannot defend lando with good arguments.
yourusername magical weekend 💖
patriciooward with you there? always user41 STOP THEY'RE SO CUTE OMG user42 this is such an upgrade tbh user43 SO HAPPY FOR THEM 🥹 user44 what a bitch.
yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; back to reality✈️] [caption 2; I'm a high performance athlete. Athletes sweat. Sweat, baby] [caption 3; cutest model🧡]
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paddockgossips
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liked by magui_corceiro and 53,237 other people!
paddockgossips NEW WAG ALERT? 🚨 Magui Corceiro, the Portuguese model and actress, attended the Monaco GP after being seen a few days ago having lunch with Lando. It has been rumored that they could be in a relationship, especially since Lando and y/n apparently went different ways, and Corceiro's presence in the paddock has not gone unnoticed by anyone. Still, neither Lando nor Magui have confirmed or denied these rumors.
user1 A TRIGGER WARNING WOULD BE NICE NEXT TIME
user2 um let's hope there isn't a next time user3 user2 let's pray girl, let's pray 🙏
user4 "neither lando nor magui have confirmed or denied these rumors" well that's bs cause she just liked the post
user5 istg she's trying so hard to get attention user6 lando was asked about magui and he said she was just a friend... and then she goes and does this lol what a clout chaser user7 and people used to say that y/n was after lando's fame and yet she NEVER did anything like this user8 she's such a pick me girl
user9 everything i know of this girl has been against my will istg
user10 SAME
user11 oh good luck lando
user12 oh be prepared for the y/n fans and little girls that'll come attack magui when she hasn't even done anything wrong
user13 literally they're just mad at magui cause she's dating their fav driver loool user14 they're only jealous cause magui is a gorgeous woman user15 user14 she's gorgeous but she's still a snake
user16 i'd ask why lando would be with someone like her, but then i remember he's an adult and if he wants someone like her by his side then that's up to him. let's not treat him like a baby please
user17 say👏 it👏 louder👏
user18 weeeeell if this is the kind of people lando likes to have around then i guess y/n really dodged a bullet with him
user19 FACTS user20 i mean at the end of the day he's just another privileged white boy, so🤷‍♀️ user21 i really don't get all the hate that she's getting, is she really that problematic? user22 girl google it yourself but yeah, she is
user23 I MISS MY GIRL Y/N WHERE IS SHEEEEEEEE??
user24 what is she even doing there?
user25 must be cause lando wanted her to be there user26 why y'all never asked the same thing about y/n? y'all are such hypocrites istg user27 user26 cause y/n was actually doing her job????? user28 user26 oh you're stupid 😂😂
user29 magui in the paddock, pato not being able to finish Indy 500... it really is a shitty day huh
user30 DON'T EVEN REMIND ME WHAT HAPPENED WITH PATO OMFG user31 I'M STILL SO MAD ABOUT PATO user32 the only good part is that y/n and his family were there for him ❤️‍🩹
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see y'all in part 3!
taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65
(if you'd like to be tagged, just let me know in the comments!🧡)
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sinofwriting · 7 days
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I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen
Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)
Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund
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Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.
Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.
He wishes now that he had paid more attention.
There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.
She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.
She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.
Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”
She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”
Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”
The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.
A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.
Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.
She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.
A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.
She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.
Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.
Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.
She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.
And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his  wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.
She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.
She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.
It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.
She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.
It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.
She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.
Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”
She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.
“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.
“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”
Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.
His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.
Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.
Fuck.
“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.
Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.
Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”
Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”
Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.
“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.
“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”
The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.
It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.
The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.
The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”
Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.
“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.
They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.
Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”
It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.
“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”
“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”
“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”
Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.
“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”
He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?
Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.
“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.
“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.
“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.
Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.
“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”
It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.
“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”
“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”
“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.
Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.
Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.
She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”
And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.
“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.
“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”
His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.
His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.
There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.
His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.
Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.
“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”
“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”
“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”
He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.
“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”
“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.
“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.
“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”
“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”
Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.
He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.
“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”
“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.
“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.
“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.
“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.
She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.
He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”
“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”
He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.
“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”
She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.
Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.
The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”
Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.
Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.
“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”
“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”
“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.
Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”
He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.
Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.
“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”
“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.
She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.
“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”
Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.
“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.
“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”
He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.
“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.
Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.
“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.
It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.
“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”
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freedomfireflies · 1 year
Text
Show Me*
Summary: The second part to Teach Me*
Class is in session, and this time, Harry needs a little help exploring his favorite kinks. Like...how to get somebody off underneath a table.
And you're more than happy to lend a helping...hand.
Word Count: 6k
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“So…how did she like it?”
Harry laughs as he slips out of his car. “Wow, I think that’s a new record. Waited a whole thirty seconds to ask me.”
“Bite me,” you retort as he makes his way toward where you’re waiting on the sidewalk. “Well?”
He shrugs, hands shoving into his pockets. “Dunno. We never got to it.”
“So, just straight to the fucking, then, huh?” you question. “No foreplay at all? I mean, hey…if that’s what she’s into…great. But, personally, I think the foreplay is the best—”
“All right,” he interjects with a wicked yet amused grin. “That’s not what I meant. She got called into work before we could.”
“Oh.” You offer him a pitiful frown. “Sorry, bud.”
“Bite me,” he mimics as he brushes past you. “S’fine. It’ll happen when it happens.”
“That’s the spirit,” you encourage as you fall in-line beside him. “Gives you more time to find your nerve.”
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, glancing down at the concrete. “Or more time to practice…other things.”
“Other things?”
“Yeah,” he says again, one brow raising as he looks back over. “You know, like…how to eat ass.”
Finally catching onto his joke, you groan and reach out to shove him away from you, watching as he stumbles with a laugh. “Fucking hilarious.”
“Listen, I was actually looking forward to it,” he continues, hand over his heart as if disappointed. “I bet you really know how to eat some ass.”
“Ha…ha.”
“What? You do, don’t you? Cause of…Eric?”
The familiar but dreaded name sends a shiver down your spine as you recoil away and scrunch your nose in horror. “Ew.”
He looks proud. “Well? Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” you huff before sighing. “…no. But he wasn’t that great of a teacher, anyhow.”
“No fucking kidding,” Harry snorts with a smile. “You’re much better.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” he beams, reaching out for the door of the restaurant to swing it open. “After you.”
“As it should be,” you tease, winking to hint at the double entendre, and his eyes roll.
You find your large group of friends already gathered around a table near the back of the room, and quickly make your way over.
For the next few minutes, you all exchange pleasantries, catch-up, and tease Harry about his failed attempt at mating.
He’s a good sport about it, flipping everyone off with a smile before changing the subject. 
Because, despite the jokes, all of you know that Harry could have anybody he wanted. Maybe his experience in the bedroom is lacking but that’s only because it was a personal choice that he made. And everybody knows it. As far as charm and seduction go? Harry Styles is a king.
Perhaps even a God.
…no, that’s giving him too much credit.
You shake your head, clearing the thought away as you listen to your friends gossip about the newest celebrity drama and reality TV scandals.
And you try to care. Really, you do.
But your mind keeps…drifting.
To Eric.
God, you could just kill Harry for re-planting that seed in your subconscious and reminding you of the worst mistake you’ve ever made.
Because there was a time when Eric was everything to you. When you were closer to him than you were to Harry. When you trusted him—completely—with your mind, soul, and body.
And of course, he just had to shit all over the self-growth and progress you’d made.
You feel your phone vibrate from its place on your thigh, and you glance down to see Harry’s name flashing across the screen.
Sneaking a curious sideways peek his way, you swipe up to read his text. 
So…Pete Davidson is Kim Kardashian’s stepfather now? Am I hearing that right?
Confused, your brows pull together as you look over at him.
His explanation is to nod at your friends across the table with a smirk, and you laugh.
I don’t know, you type. I wasn’t listening.
Oh? Why not? This is fascinating stuff.
Idk. Just wasn’t.
Harry’s expression seems to fall as he studies you before his fingers are flying across the screen. You were thinking about Eric, weren’t you?
…nooooooo.
His eyes narrow.
So what if I was?
Bee…you can do better than that. Even in your head.
See, you say that, and yet…here I am.
Because you’re not doing better. You can…you just aren’t.
Yeah? And how exactly would I do better?
You catch the way his lips pull back into a Cheshire-like grin as he begins to type.
Well, you kind of already did do better. With me. The other day.
Swallowing a scoff, you type, That was only because I felt bad for you.
Think you felt a lot of things that day, Bee. But bad wasn’t one of them.
You toss him a playful glare. Are you ever gonna let that go?
Not likely. After all, you did promise me another lesson.
You don’t need another lesson, you just need to stop being so goddamn annoying.
Come on, you can’t deprive me now. Not when I know I have so much to learn.
Google it.
Ouch.
You’ll live.
It’s not living if it’s not with you.
This time, you do groan, and reach over to swat his arm. “Stop,” you hiss. “You really are fucking annoying.”
“Learned from the best,” he retorts, leaning closer to you in an attempt to conceal the conversation. “Learned a lot of things from you, actually.”
“Harry,” you huff again, but you’re smirking. “My god, you don’t really wanna learn how to eat ass do you?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t really know what I wanna learn. That’s why I need a teacher. To teach me what I want.”
You know he’s fucking with you. You can see it all over his face and yet, for some reason…your interest is piqued. “Thought that was a one-time deal.”
“It was,” he agrees. “But…the door to knowledge is never closed.”
He follows this up with a devious chuckle to let you know he’s teasing, and you nudge him again. “See? Annoying.”
For a moment, you both put the topic to bed and return to the conversation happening across the table.
But again, your mind wanders.
Wanders all the way back to your bedroom and the image of Harry’s curls wound around your knuckles.
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about that afternoon quite a few times since it happened. After all, you’re only human. And Harry had done a rather excellent job. Sure, you’ve had a tad better. But for his first time…it wasn’t half bad.
And you’d waited to feel weird about it after the fact…but you never did. Which was strange. The two of you returned to your normal routine as if it had never happened.
And you were certainly glad for that. So why is it that now, as the opportunity for a relapse is placed so obviously in your lap, are you not repulsed by it?
Why is it that you haven’t immediately shut the idea down? Laughed it off? Why is it that you’re…considering it?
Again?
You almost want to shudder at the very thought, but as you look over to the chair beside you and take in Harry’s relaxed smile as he listens to your friends talk…something seems to shift.
You will admit, since your little…experiment…you’ve begun to equate those kinds of memories and feelings with Harry instead of Eric.
And that’s another thing you wouldn’t dare complain about. You like the idea of being able to associate pleasure with someone that makes you feel safe. Secure instead of unhinged.
And perhaps this is a huge mistake…but suddenly, you can’t seem to see the harm?
He gets to learn how to make a woman feel good and you get to erase Eric from your past permanently.
What could possibly be so wrong with that?
Subtly, you clear your throat as you turn your head to him, calling his attention away as he raises a brow. 
“Okay, so…if I were to agree to another lesson…” you begin hesitantly as his eyes grow wide. “I’d need a little…information.”
He angles his body toward you as well, murmuring, “Yeah? Like what?”
You think for a moment. “I don’t know…what kinds of kinks do you have?”
“I don’t know,” he repeats smugly, nodding his chin at you. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me find out?”
You quickly glance across the table to make sure nobody is listening as you lean in and whisper, “Well…I don’t even know where to start with you. You’re a virgin, it’s hard.”
“I’m not a virgin,” he corrects with a scoff. “I just…haven’t done it a lot since the first time.”
“Mhm,” you snort. “Doesn’t change the fact that if you don’t know what you like, there’s no way I’ll know.”
He studies you for a second, seeming to think. “Well…why don’t you tell me what you like? Maybe I’ll get some ideas.”
You hesitate. What do you like? “Uh…okay. I mean, I like pretty much everything, I guess.”
“Yeah? Like what? Name something.”
Well…shit. “Um…I don’t know. Have you ever heard of…exhibitionism?”
He runs his tongue over his teeth in thought, brows lifting up with intrigue. “I’m 27, I’m not dead.”
“Hilarious.”
“Why? S’that something you’re into?”
You swallow but force a relaxed and nonchalant demeanor. “Kind of, yeah. Fun to play with what’s mine when anybody could see.”
He almost seems impressed, leaning back as he looks at you. Really looks at you. “You don’t fucking say.”
“Okay, don’t make it a whole thing,” you whisper urgently, already swatting at him in warning. “It was just an idea. We can always think of something—”
“Show me.”
You pause. “Show you…what?”
He nods his chin at you. “Show me how you’d play with what’s yours when anybody could see.”
Your expression falls. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He nods. “I’m a vessel. Show me. Teach me.”
And maybe it’s the glass of wine offering you an extra ounce of courage, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve already done this once before, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s Harry…
But whatever it is, you reach out, and smooth your palm along his upper thigh, just to watch his breath catch. “Are you sure?” you ask softly, careful to keep beneath the suspicion of the group across the table. “Because I need to know if you can…handle it.”
You feel him tense, his fingers flexing across the tablecloth as he regards you. “I’ll handle anything you want me to.”
Your hand drifts a little higher. “And you’ll sit here? And be a good student?”
He shoots you a coy smile. “The best.”
A little higher. “And you know your safe word?”
“‘Stop,’” he answers, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “Don’t think I’ll need it, though.”
“You might.”
“Won’t.”
“Maybe.”
“No fucking way.”
You slow to a stop, centimeters away from the rather obvious dip in his pants. “Don’t say that. Just use it. If you need to.”
His expression softens. “I know, Bee. I will. Promise.”
“Good.” So, with that and a deep breath, you take the plunge, ghosting your touch over his covered cock. 
And it’s different this time because it’s you touching him. It’s his body in your hands and this far exceeds your usual high-five.
You aren’t sure what you expected. You kind of already know he’s big from the few times you guys have gone swimming together. And he’s accidently brushed up against you before when scooting past you and worn sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to help him hide an erection (another reason why you’re never watching a Margot Robbie movie with him again). 
But feeling it now…knowing exactly what this man is in possession of…feels forbidden.
You keep your expression stoic, refusing to give him the satisfaction of your awe as you watch the way his lashes flutter.
“Easy,” you warn in a delicate whisper. “Rule number one…make a sound and I stop.”
His teeth grit as he leans back against his seat. “Fine.”
“Good.” You bring your fingers together until you can cup your palm around him, adding just the slightest amount of pressure before glancing back at your friends.
They’re laughing about something, you don’t really know what, but you smile and nod along as if absolutely enthralled.
And as the seconds pass, you feel Harry grow harder in your hand. Needier. He shifts at least three times a minute, clearly struggling to keep from bucking up into your touch.
You’re being as easy on him as you can. A few squeezes, a bit of palming, and some light brushing just to tease him.
He’s gripping onto the edge of the table so tight, you’re surprised it’s not shaking. But he’s restraining himself, as best he can, and you feel oddly…proud.
You maneuver a little closer, head dipping until your lips are close to his ear. To anyone else, it might look like you're merely trying to be heard over the loud music.
But Harry knows better.
"This...is where the fun is," you tell him. "Knowing it would be so easy to have you coming in your pants. Right here, right now. In front of everybody."
You add a bit more pressure and watch the way the veins in his arms begin to strain against his skin. The way the muscles in his jaw constrict and the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows.
“You feel it, don’t you?” you murmur as his fingers begin to scratch down the table, desperate to grab onto something. “Feel what it does to you…to be played with. Just like this…exactly like you wanted.”
He sucks in a quiet gasp for air as his head threatens to drop back, little curls falling across his forehead.
He’s not stopping you. And you know he won’t. He’ll happily let himself go right into his trousers, in front of the whole goddamn resturant. Right here, right now.
But that wasn’t apart of the lesson.
So, just when you can feel his resolve begin to crumble…you stop.
He exhales a long, deep breath, slumping into the chair as if completely drained of all energy, and you almost want to laugh.
“So…what did you learn?” you ask softly as you lean back in.
“That Eric’s a fucking ass,” he replies instantly, shooting you a lazy grin. “And that we’re definitely not kids in a tree house anymore.”
“No kidding,” you agree. “Anything else?”
He mulls this over, eyeing you closely. “That I think I’m more of a…hands-on learner.”
Your brow raises. “What does that mean?”
His answer comes in the form of his touch, hand outstretching for your leg, long fingers brushing across the hem of your dress. “It means…I need to see for myself.”
He pauses down by your knee in order to allow you the time to understand and either accept him or reject him. 
But you simply blink, focus falling from his face down to your lap. “Ah…I suppose that makes sense.”
His lips roll into his mouth. “Mhm…what do you say, Teach?”
Your nose scrunches at the nickname but you smile. “I say practice makes perfect.”
And he wastes no more time in slipping beneath the fabric to travel up your thigh and toward your hips.
Now, you’re the one forced into restraint, a gasp immediately hitching in your throat as he brushes his thumb down the front of your underwear.
It instantly brings you back to the last time, and his touch, while familiar and oddly reassuring, makes your head spin.
You slowly look over at him, taking note of the way he’s so goddamn proud of your reaction, and the way he returns his attention to your friends.
Exactly like you had.
Because this is the lesson after all. The concept of teasing and torture and watching somebody come undone so easily.
The idea of getting caught. 
You could tell from the moment you reached for him that this was something he was into. But even when he was trying not to thrust up into your hand, it was obvious that his interest lied with you and your pleasure.
With the idea of putting you under this sort of duress.
He really is a sadist.
Good to know.
"How's this for practice?" you hear him murmur as you become vaguely aware of the way he's scooted his chair closer to you.
You open your mouth, lips parted and ready to respond, but you can feel the beginning of a whimper threatening its escape.
So you swallow—thickly—and nod your head once.
"Good, then?" he asks, and you have to fight the urge to cross your legs over his hand. "Bee...I need you to speak."
But you can't fucking speak. The pressure of his touch has increased, and it feels so...so fucking good. "It's....yeah. Fine. It's fi—"
Suddenly, you gasp, and thankfully, it's lost beneath the jazz music still loudly playing through the restaurant.
But it's not lost on Harry, and you watch his smug smile expand as his teasing begins to slow. "Uh-uh," he tuts softly. "You know the rules. Make a sound...and I stop."
You exhale the singular word, "Har," and he hums.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What?"
You have to physically fight the urge to whimper with desperation. Truth be told, he’s hardly even doing anything, but his hands…
You’d fucked up by sneaking a glance down at the tattooed skin disappearing beneath your dress. Because it’s sinful to feel the cold, metal of his rings brush against your warm thighs. Sinful to know he’s pressing his thumb into you just to feel the way you’ve begun to soak the material he’s so effortlessly playing with. 
He…is sinful.
And then suddenly…his touch disappears. Retreats from between your legs as your mouth just about drops open.
And you could cry at the loss of contact because it felt so safe and so exciting. Teasing or not, it was so fucking good, and you hate him for making you go without.
But then…you learn why.
His fingers move to wrap around the edge of your seat, getting a good grip on it…before he yanks.
Your chair is forced closer to his, squeaking against the floor as he begins to smirk victoriously.
“There,” he declares quietly before his hand is returning to your lap. “Much better, don’t you think?”
And it is better because now he’s so much closer, and has so much more room, and you’re so fucking close to just throwing in the towel and hurling yourself at him. Friends be damned.
“Speak, Bee,” he repriminds after a minute of your silence, and instantly, you begin to squirm.
“Har,” you whisper, both begging him for his mercy and for his cruelty.
“What?” he replies evenly. “What do you need, hm?”
You, you think. “Can’t…s’just…”
“Come on,” he tsks. “Think you can do better than that, can’t you?”
But you can’t.
“Please,” you try again, a faint request. 
“Please…what?”
“Har…”
“Uh-uh. Tell me. What?”
Again, you swallow, willing yourself to stay silent. "Har—”
“No.”
“Harry—"
"...Harry?"
This time, it's Charlie calling his name, and immediately, you go deathly still as you turn back toward your friends.
However, Harry is calm as he raises a brow. "Yeah?"
For a moment, the three across from you simply stare, rather curiously before Charlie says, "Oh, I was just asking how Tina is?"
You could almost moan with relief.
“She’s good, yeah,” Harry answers cooly, pointer finger hooking around the edge of the material on your thighs to pull it aside. “Yeah, real good. Been working a lot, so I haven’t seen her much.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Jackie offers with a pout. “Is she nice? Will we like her?”
Harry laughs, head shaking with amusement as if he’s not dragging his thumb down your clit while you swallow a rather desperate whine. “She’s nice. I don’t know if we’ll ever make it that far, though.”
Caleb’s head tilts. “What do you mean?” 
He shrugs. “I don’t know. We’ve hung out, like…twice. S’not really that serious yet.”
And you almost snort, because to you…he seemed pretty serious about her.
But you suppose eating pussy doesn’t exactly require an engagement ring, and maybe he just wants a fuck buddy.
“Well…she still needs to pass the approval test,” Jackie argues with a wink. “And the fact that she strung you along for two months is not doing her any favors.”
“She was just making him work for it,” Charlie teases. “And he needs to be humbled, so I say good for her.”
“Please. Look at him,” she snorts. “He’s too pretty to be this dumb. Okay, he can do better than Tammy—”
“Tina,” Harry corrects before slowly easing the tip of his finger in, and your entire body goes rigid.
“—yeah, whatever. The point is…you can do better,” Jackie finishes proudly, shooting a pointed look toward Charlie.
Harry begins to smirk, slowly stealing a glance at you. “Yeah. Maybe we can all do better.”
Now curious, Caleb nods at you, and you do your best to control your reactions as he says, “Yeah, speaking of which…have you heard from…him?”
You shake your head quickly, mentally damning Harry to hell as he pushes in a bit further just to make it harder for you to reply. “Uh…no. Nope. Not since that night.”
“I’ll kill him,” Jackie tells you. “No, really. I will. I’ll hit him with my car and drag his dead body out to the woods, and watch the bears eat him.”
You breathe out a laugh, but it’s outrageously forced, and Harry can tell. “It’s…it’s fine. He’s…you know, we all move on. I’m fine.”
“Sure,” Harry says with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Yeah, you seem fine.”
“Oh, I am,” you murmur through a tight-lipped smile. “Fucking fantastic.”
“Good,” he hums before you can feel him curl upward. “Hope it stays that way.”
Your hands drop to the chair beneath you, and you grip onto the sides for dear life in an attempt to keep from reeling. “Thanks for your…concern.”
“Anytime,” he beams as you feel him slip out. “Just want you to…do and feel the best that you can.”
The wet pad of his finger then returns to your clit as he presses into it just to push it in a teasing circle.
Your eyes just about roll back as you quickly turn your face toward your shoulder and fake a cough. “Fuck…sorry,” you apologize hoarsely as your friends look on.
“Are you all right?” Jackie asks softly. “Sorry, we shouldn’t have brought him up. We can change the subject.”
“No, it’s…it’s fine,” you sigh, hoping to sound casual, despite the fact that you’re teetering on the edge of a wail. “Really, he’s just…a guy. Just some…stupid…sadistic…evil fucking…guy.”
And while the group across the table snorts their agreement, you see that Harry knows that jab was aimed directly at him.
He winks.
“I, uh…I need to go to the bathroom,” you suddenly declare, grabbing onto his wrist to forcefully shove it away before standing to your feet. “Be right back.”
“Feeling all right?” Harry asks innocently as he watches you push your chair in. 
“Just delightful,” you reply before brushing your hands down the front of your dress. “Seriously, keep eating. I won’t be long.”
You leave the table before Harry can make another quippy remark, quickly making your way for the extravagant restroom in the back of the restaurant.
Honestly, you thought you had a little more self-control. You thought it wouldn’t be so easy to get you so on edge, and yet here Harry is, making you clench so hard in your chair, you nearly burst a blood vessel.
You lock the door behind you and make a beeline for the sink. You flip on the cool water and gently trail it down your arms and chest to cool yourself down as you will the ache between your legs to subside.
It’ll be easy to take care of once you get home, but you’re rather impressed with Harry’s commitment to…education.
And something about looking your friends in the eye as he played with your cunt like a toy was oddly invigorating.
Far more invigorating than it ever had been with…Eric.
You’ve no sooner smirked at this thought when your phone begins to buzz from its place on the counter.
Glancing down, you aren’t surprised to see a text from Harry, but it does make you laugh.
How’s it going?
Good. Just getting myself off before I come back, you answer.
Yeah? Texting me while you touch yourself? Hot.
Well, it’s not the first time.
A good minute passes before he responds, and you can easily imagine the way his eyes went wide. 
Seriously?
Seriously. Why, is that weird?
Are you fucking kidding? No, it’s…I mean, it’s hot. Very, very hot.
Your brow raises. Yeah?
Kind of rude you never told me, though. Clearly I would have been of great help.
In my defense, I was a little…busy. It’s already hard enough to type with one hand.
And even if you aren’t exactly touching yourself right now…you aren’t lying about having done it before. Not on purpose, of course. He just happened to text you right in the middle of your alone time and needed an answer ASAP.
So…you’d answered.
Yeah? Do you need an extra hand? he replies next, and you chuckle under your breath as you lean against the sink.
Why, do you know someone?
Funny.
Thank you, I thought so.
Is that a yes, then?
I think I’m managing just fine.
Yeah? So you’re pinching your clit nice and tight for me? 
You feel your breath hitch. This certainly isn’t helping. Obviously.
And you’re clenching around your fingers for me? How many you using? One? Two? Maybe three? Know you like to feel stretched.
“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you glance off into the bathroom. He’s trying to kill you. 
Can’t really clench around anything when I have to keep answering these texts. Go eat your food and leave me to it.
And what kind of student would I be if I did that?
An obedient one.
And does that sound like me?
“Nope,” you respond aloud, but type, You have been so far.
Think I’d be more obedient if I finished what I started.
I mean…maybe if you knew how.
You wait to watch the bubbles roll across your screen, but when they don’t come, your heart sinks.
And then…there’s a knock.
A rather fervent and determined knock that makes you jump as you look toward the door.
“Bee…let me in.” 
Shit. “I…uh, I’m a little busy.”
“I know,” comes the deep, sultry reply. “So, let me in.”
“Har—”
“Open the goddamn door, Bee, before I break it down.”
Clearing your throat, you put your phone aside and cautiously tiptoe toward the door.
After sliding the lock over, you pull it back just a hair, and peek through the crack. “Uh, hi. Sorry, this bathroom is a little occupied at the moment—”
His large hand comes out to press against the wood as he forces it open and steps inside. “Are you okay?”
You blink at him before scrambling to push it closed and relock it. “Uh…yeah? Why?”
He strides a bit further into the bathroom before turning around to look at you, almost as if suspicious. “Honestly? I kind of thought you came in here to hide from me.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know.” His arms cross over his chest. “I know you didn’t actually come in here to fuck yourself, so I thought…maybe you just felt uncomfortable.”
“Oh, yeah? And how do you know I didn’t come in here to do that?” you retort.
He smirks. “’Cause you always use both hands. And if you were texting me…you weren’t fucking yourself.”
“And how do you know I use both hands?”
He shrugs. “You told me once.”
Oh…right. “Well…maybe I was multi-tasking.”
“You weren’t,” he rejects immediately. “No, I think you either came in here to hide from me…or because you were upset about what they said. You know, about…him.”
An invisible fist snaps closed around your heart as you stare at the man across from you. The devious intentions and teasing from before are long gone as the man you’ve known for years, your best friend…stands before you.
The concern is evident on his face as you take a step closer. “Har…honestly, I’m fine. I wasn’t hiding from you, and I really don’t care about Eric. I came in here to keep myself from coming all over your fucking hand.”
The corner of his mouth twitches with the temptation to smile, but his gaze remains skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” You nod, taking another step. “Come on, I think it’s a little late to start questioning me now, don’t you?”
He sucks on his teeth. “Well…I can never tell with you.”
“I feel like I made my enjoyment quite clear.”
“I thought so, too. Until you made me stop.”
Now, only inches away from him, you come to a halt. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly feel like explaining why I moaned to our friends, you know?”
His thumb rubs across the skin of his arm as he peers down at you. “Thought that was the whole point of exhibitionism.”
You shrug, eyes falling across his features. “Yeah…or maybe I just wanted to keep you to myself.”
His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You know…like a secret.”
Instantly, he grins, exhaling a laugh at the reminder of the pact you two made when you were younger. “We are good at secrets.”
“The best,” you agree giddily before the laughter dies out, and something seems to shift within his expression.
“Then I think it’s only fair we finish the lesson,” he says quietly, leaning a bit closer as you begin to still. “After all…I still need to show my work.”
Your lashes flutter, the smell of his cologne beginning to overwhelm you. God, why does he always smell so good? “Guess…guess that’s only fair,” you agree faintly, and he seems pleased.
His head dips, nose brushing yours as he works to catch you off guard. “Then tell me what to do, Bee. And I’ll do it.”
It comes out before you can stop it. “Kiss me.”
He’s surprised by this request, going momentarily quiet but you don’t miss the way his focus falls to your lips, as if pondering.
“Kiss me,” you repeat, fingers itching to latch onto the back of his neck. “And this time…do it right.”
He seems impressed as he fights an arrogant smirk. “Right, huh?”
“Yeah.” You straighten up, bringing your mouths a tad closer, but still without contact. “Know you can. Know you know how to be gentle, don’t you?”
And almost as if in retaliation, his hands find your hips, squeezing rather harshly as he begins to back you up toward the wall.
When you collide with it, he grins. “Dunno about that.”
“Try,” you whisper, hands dancing up his chest. “Trust me, you’ll get a lot more points that way. The right kiss can do everything, and I promise…she’ll love it.”
He considers this for a moment, studying you closely before you feel his palm delicately cup your cheek. 
He tilts your head back as he moves in, deliberately slow. “Everything, huh?”
You smile, nodding once. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Everything.”
He kisses you.
Soft, and careful, and sadistically tame. He kisses around your mouth, peppers kisses to your bottom lip, to your cheek, to the line of your jaw. 
He keeps his tongue from you, and you almost huff because after everything, you think you at least deserve a taste.
And finally, once you’re moments away from wilting in his hands, he takes that taste for himself.
Your head spins and your mind goes blank and everything makes sense.
Because kissing him is fun, and it makes you want to laugh, and kiss him forever, and never leave this one spot.
And you’re so enchanted by this revelation that you don’t notice his hand traveling between your bodies to return to its home between your thighs.
But he slips underneath your dress without a moment's delay, fingers returning to their work of pulling your panties aside to finish what he started. And when you gasp into the kiss…he swallows the sound with ease.
“Is that right, hm?” he teases as he slides in. “That good?”
Your lashes flutter closed as he presses his forehead to yours, and you don’t offer a response because he already knows.
His precision just about kills you. In, out, in, curl, twist, pinch, pull. You can feel the drip down your thighs, can hear the sounds he’s making, can taste his desperation in each kiss he gives you.
And when you suddenly whine and squirm in his hold, he smiles. “There it is, yeah? Right there…s’what you needed, isn’t it?”
It is. It’s exactly what you’d needed, and he strokes the spot with fervor and just a touch of wonder.
It’s cruel and it’s wonderful and it feels so fucking good, and nothing else makes sense to you except him.
Just him and the way you’re about to come undone by his hand for a second time.
You nuzzle your face into his neck, lazily kissing under his ear, and he seems to sigh with contentment as he braces you both against the wall to continue. 
“Come on, Bee…know it’s gotta hurt, doesn’t it?” he coos, but his voice is thick. “Know it hurts, so give it to me, yeah? Just give it to me. Let me make it better.”
And it overwhelms you, consumes you, controls you. His smell, his touch, his words. The past, the present, him. Just him. Only him. Right now. Everything.
The sound that rips from your throat feels foreign to you. It’s loud and desperate and eager, and he presses his lips to yours to be a part of it.
It goes for what feels like hours, but time doesn’t have a place here. It could have been ten seconds; it could have been ten minutes. You don’t know, you don’t care.
You just…let it.
And you don’t realize the way you’ve slumped into his embrace as he holds you up, keeps you steady.
You don’t realize he’s speaking to you, murmuring words of encouragement with just a hint of teasing. 
You don’t realize he’s refusing to let go.
But once you do, you realize something else, too:
You don’t want him to let go.
"Think we might have a problem," he whispers after a moment, lips following the curve of your shoulder as he offers a few parting kisses.
Your head falls back against the wall and you take a few deep breaths. "Yeah? And what's that?"
"Well...you kind of fucked up," he begins as he moves to the other side of your neck, sucking on the vein just below your ear. "You gave me a taste, showed me what I've been missing."
You can feel yourself smile through the haze as his hands continue to grope at your waist.
"I mean, just knowing..." he continues, nosing under your jaw, "...you've been keeping so much knowledge from me...this whole time."
Your laugh is airy as you reach up to comb through his curls. "Is that right?"
He hums as he nods, the palm of his hand slowly smoothing up your stomach, pushing the hem of your dress along with it. "And now I don't know if I can go without. Feel so fucking insatiable...just thinking about what else you might be hiding from me."
With this, his fingers delicately ghost under the curve of your tit, forcing you to arch into his touch as he smirks.
"And what is it...you want to know?" you manage to reply, voice soft and nearly inaudible.
He pulls back and meets your eye.
"Everything."
Shit.
"Everything?" you murmur, subtly tugging him closer.
"Everything," he repeats. "Anything. All of it. You. Me. Us. Every fucking second, every fucking way."
You know what he's proposing. Know exactly what this means, but you don't know if a friendship would survive.
And you don't know which is more important.
"So...what do you expect me to do?" you ask breathlessly, still squirming beneath his hold.
He smiles. "I expect you...to show me."
"Show you," you repeat, as if in a trance.
"Show me," he whispers, moving back in to lick at your bottom lip. "Teach me. How to be better. How to be right. How take care of you. Wanna give you everything you need."
"Everything," you breathe.
"Everything." His other hand gently comes up to cradle the back of your neck. "Whatever you want, whatever you need. Tell me and I'll give it to you. Promise."
But what do you need?
"Are you sure?" you ask, softly pushing on his chest to garner his attention. "It's not like teaching you to play pool, Har. Exploring kinks is...delicate. Sacred. It's not a game."
"I know," he replies, sobering ever-so-slightly. "That's why it can't be anybody else. It has to be you."
It has to be you.
"Why?" you challenge.
He simply offers you a knowing look. "Why wouldn't it be?"
You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking for a reason to say no. Looking for the strength to know better.
But maybe you don't know better.
Maybe you just know him.
"Teach me," he says again, thumb stroking your jaw as those familiar eyes bleed right through to your heart. "Make me better."
Better.
Everything.
Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else feels right.
Just him.
"Okay," you agree quietly, and his entire face lights up. "For science."
"For science," he repeats, dipping down to press his lips to your cheek in thanks. "But only if you're sure. I'd never want you to agree just because of me. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, I know."
He leans back. Frowns. He's unconvinced. "I mean it, Bee. I'm not asking just because I can. I’m asking because…it feels like something we both want. But if it's not—"
You kiss him again, stealing the rest of his argument. "I know how to say no to you, Harry. Think you should know that by now."
He smiles against your mouth. "Guess so."
For the next minute or so, you don't speak. He simply takes hold of your face with both hands and paints his gratitude across your tongue.
"So...where do you wanna start?" you ask when he finally allows you a second of reprieve.
"You tell me," he reminds you, and you feel yourself smirk.
"All right," you agree before slipping your fingers through the loops on his pants.
His eyes go wide.
Then, you tug.
"Let's start...with everything."
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You bet your ass there’s gonna be a part 3, because now that they’ve opened the door…there’s no closing it 😗 and Harry’s got a long list of new kinks to discover! And I’m strangely excited about it?? This is concerning?? Pray for me???
Next Part:
~ Hurt Me* (Pt. 3)
Previous Part:
~ Teach Me* (Pt. 1)
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Tags:
@tiaamberxx @harrystylesfan2686
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
Text
Steve always tells people "I love you" before saying bye to them. Maybe it's the years of Upside Down trauma, worrying that these words could be his last. Maybe it's the fact his parents never say it before leaving (if they even bothered to say anything to him at all). Maybe it's because each time his parents were away he thinks that this might be the time they never come back, and he isn't even sure if they love him. Maybe it's due to his years of King Steve, hurting others more than loving.
It doesn't really matter though, the why. What matters is that Steve has made it his mission to always do it before his goodbyes (especially after round three of the Upside Down). Always making sure to even say a quick "Love you! Bye!" as he is rushing out the door.
At first, everyone is a bit put off by it. Especially Nancy who at first thought it was a love confession until Steve turns to Jonathan and says the exact same thing. The kids think he's being gross and mushy, even an exasperated "mommmm" is thrown in his direction every once in and while. Robin is the only one who is receptive to it right away. A soft, "love you too dingus" she says to him, no matter if they are attached to the hip or in a screaming match that day.
Eventually, though, everyone accepts this as Steve's new normal. Gentle smiles, light snorts, and bruising punches (thanks max) are the responses given. But then after round four of the Upside Down, everyone seems to now embrace this part of Steve. Never forgetting to say "I love you too" in return.
Steve's heart comes a little closer to healing each time.
Steve only begins to realize it's a problem though when it comes to Eddie.
Steve finds that Eddie is the only one he has to resist saying it to. See, Steve over the years has become better at providing verbal affection. Note, his "I love you's" had blossomed into "I am proud of you" and "I'm worried about you" and so much more. He has grown out of the years of repressed emotion (well, he was actively learning to at least).
What Steve hasn't gotten better at is touch. Steve yearns for it, craves it in fact, but can't find it in him to reach out. His fear of rejection is too great. And Steve's friends don't really give out touch to those who don't actively seek it.
Eddie though may be the touchiest person he has ever met. It's small stuff at first.
A shoulder brush.
A clap on the back.
A poke in the ribs.
But then it soon turns into bigger stuff.
A boop on the nose.
A tug at his hair.
A goddamn hug from behind.
It's overwhelming, it's intoxicating. Steve can't really tell if it's good or bad for his health. And Steve knows if he asks Eddie to stop he will. Despite his touchy tendencies, the guy understood boundaries. But the problem is that Steve doesn't want him to stop.
The problem is that Eddie's constant physical affection is starting to collide with Steve's need to express verbal affection. The problem is Eddie is starting to fill the rest of the void in his heart. The problem is Steve...
The problem is Steve has to stop himself from expressing his normal "I love you's" because he knows it will mean something different, something more this time. He knows everyone will notice the difference after their years of hearing him say it.
So, Steve never says it to Eddie.
It's no biggie really. Or so Steve thinks until Eddie corners him in the kitchen during one of their game nights.
"Steve, do you...do you have a problem with me?" Eddie asks shyly, staring down at his boots. It was an odd look on him as Eddie was normally larger than life, commanding a room. It hurt Steve to see him like this.
"What? Why would you think that?" Steve asks shocked.
"Not really a no, Harrington." Eddie chuckles darkly, "And don't think I didn't notice but you kinda have a hangup about saying I love you to everyone except me. And ya know, I wouldn't really be offended really if it was cause we haven't known each other very long and ya know, cause I'm a guy. But then, I see you saying it to Argyle. Real easily in fact. And it wouldn't bother me if it was because we weren't close, but Stevie—" Eddie's voice cracks a little, as he slips into his nickname for Steve. Steve knows now, how serious Eddie is being. "—you've gotten to know me better than anyone in this whole stupid state. And that's including Wayne. Hell, you might even be my best friend even though I'm not yours. I'm not delusional I know no one can knock Robin from that spot." Eddie is rambling so hard that he gives Robin a run for her money. Steve thinks for a moment, that the two have been spending too much time together.
Steve stays silent as he walks towards Eddie to stand directly in front of him. Eddie continues without noticing. "Then I worry, it's because maybe. Maybe it's because you found out that I am gay. And that, you had a problem with that. That you have a problem with me." Eddie's voice starts off shaky but then turns into steel as he finishes. He makes sure to keep direct eye contact with Steve, driving his point.
Steve first thinks, wait Eddie's gay? Then Steve processes everything, panics, and loses his filter completely. Throws his worry about losing his best friend (don't tell Robin, but she's his soulmate so she'll forgive him) out the window, and throws his heart on the table instead. "Jesus, no Eds. I—shit. It's not that at all. Like I don't care about that stuff. You know that. I love Robin regardless."
Eddie gives him a look that screams, we both know why it's different. Steve pushes forwards anyway. "And it's not that I don't want to say it to you. It's just, it's different okay. Like with everyone else, I don't have to worry about it being bullshit. And god that sounds bad, but I don't know how else to say it. And I just know if I say it, if I say it you'll just know it's different, and then you'll hate me and it's one thing for the others to not say it back at first, but I think it might kill me if you didn't. And that's not fair to put that pressure on you." God, now Steve could give Robin a run for her money.
"Sweetheart—"
Steve cuts him off, he knows if he doesn't say it now he won't say it all. "God Eddie if you knew how much I cared—if you knew how much I worried every time you leave. If you knew how much I worry about how I don't say it to you when you leave, how I might not ever get to say it, it would terrify you, Eddie. This isn't a normal amount of affection. This is like—what's the word—astronomical amounts of affection. Cause Eddie, it takes everything in me every single time you walk away to not say I. Love. You."
Steve hears it, how he says it. He knows how it's going to sound before it comes out. How it's different. How it's more. Steve closes his eyes in shame.
Eddie's hand cups Steve's cheek. "Baby."
The hush, but the firm tone makes Steve open his eyes. Eddie has gotten so close they are breathing the same air. Steve's heart stutters.
"Baby," Eddie says again, before giving Steve the one affectionate touch he hasn't gotten yet.
A kiss.
A soft, heartstopping kiss. A kiss that has Steve's soul bursting at the seams.
Steve leans his forehead against Eddie's, feeling content for the first time in weeks. Knowing this was Eddie's way of saying it back.
Though, the delicate "I love you too." that Eddie whispers against Steve's lips doesn't hurt either.
Not even a little bit.
sometimes I set out to write a quick little thing…and sometimes that little thing turns into a big thing. enjoy :)
p.s. I apologize if there are any tense changes, I wrote this at 1 am lol
5K notes · View notes
81folklore · 7 months
Text
this is me trying - CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x small!singer!reader (fc: olivia rodrigo)
summary: after a twitter thread was made talking about the struggles you faced in a horrible way, you release a song you wrote with charles to talk about it
authors note: i am in no way saying olivia has struggled with or is dealing with anything mentioned in this story. this song means alot to me as someone who struggles with both addiction and my mental health so if im projecting..no one needs to know😁 i honestly have no clue how this is going to turn out but we will see. anything in bold italics is french
warnings: talks of addiction, depression, anxiety and suicide. alcohol addiction, drugs and self harm are all mentioned. the topics of this is me trying are mentioned, for obvious reasons but in a more personally focused way (if that makes sense). unwarrented hate (?). nothing really goes into detail but just regular warnings, please reach out to someone if you are struggling!!
authors note 2: i had to dust this one off and I HATE IT. its literally my least favorite work ive ever done so please feel free to keep scrolling😭😭 i just kept projecting by accident and it honestly kind of got out of hand. im also SO BAD with my wording so i have no clue if any of it sounds how i wanted it too!!
authors note 3: after reading it over i realised i never actually explained what i was talking about in the song thread so quickly, charles’ and yn split for a short period after yn started shutting him out, she spoke to someone (the stranger) who helped her start to extend the branches back out to charles and they got back together around 11 ish months before the song was released!! the fans never knew why they broke up, there was some speculation but most of it was dropped when they got back toegther
masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 2,457 others
good food, yummy people😋
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arthur_leclerc: you mean good people yummy food right?
yourusername: suuure😁
charles_leclerc: beautiful girl
yourusername: love you!!
user7: what is charles doing in the 5th picture😭😭
yourusername: he dropped his airpod😭
user10: girl have you seen twitter…
user75: charles run as fast as you can
user2: there is no way charles knew he’d never be with someone like that💀
user10: what and he’d be with someone like you??
user6: wait what is happening in these comments what happened on twitter?
user7: someone made a thread ‘exposing’ yn but its just a bunch of bullshit that his fans are using because they dont like yn
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yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 3,562 other
studio time with baeee💋💋
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charles_leclerc: my favorite musician💐
charles_leclerc: i love you so much
yourusername: you mean the world to me charlie
pierregasly: kika wants to know if she can come next time
yourusername: tell her to text me so we can arrange it!!
user73: oh my god new music soon
user64: does this mean charles is on her new music?!
yourusername: maybeee
user64: GIRL DONT TEASE US LIKE THIS
user99: im so sorry about whats happening on twitter you dont deserve that
user2: yes she does
arthur_leclerc: can you tell charles to stop talking about your music when im not allowed to hear it, please🙏
yourusername: sorry arthur!! wanna come for a car ride and listen to it with us??
arthur_leclerc: please please please
user82: yn and charles taking arthur on a car ride to listen to her new song, oh what if i cried😭😭
arthur_leclerc added to their story
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seen by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 86,289 others
*text in first picture reads: 🤍🤍* *text in second picture reads: so unbelievably proud of my sister*
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 8,215 others
if you had told me a year ago that not only would i still be here but i would be releasing a song talking about the darkest times of my life with the love of my life by my side i would never have believed you.
throughout the past few months i have revisited times of my life i wish i could have left behind but ive learnt that accepting that this is a part of me now is important in my journey of moving forwards, and in moving forwards ive learnt that my struggles do not define me and i wont be embarrassed by things that have affected me
sometimes i wish i could go back and erase that part of my life, erase the way i felt, erase the way i treated the people i loved the most. but i cant, and i wont let people belittle me for that time anymore
if you have struggled in the past or are struggling today, you are not alone. its a cliche thing to say but i promise you at least one other person will be experiencing the feelings your feeling, you may not know them, you may never know them but you are not alone, you never have been and you never will be
you are not weak for struggling, you are not weak for finding ways to cope, no matter what they may be, you are not weak for shutting people out and you are not weak for reaching out for help, no matter how little you think you need it. you deserve help, no matter how small your problems may seem to you, you are worthy of being safe, you are worthy of being happy
i never thought i would release a song highlighting those times for me, but i wanted anyone whose been through these things to know that i love you and i will always love you; this is me trying out now on all platforms❤️‍🩹
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arthur_leclerc: i am so so proud of you, you deserve all the happiness in the world
charles_leclerc: you mean the world to me, i am so proud of what you have achieved and i will be by your side forever and always
yourusername: charlie i hold so much love for you i feel like i may explode
user55: ive been struggling with an addiction for a while, i cannot express the way this song feels. just, thank you so much
yourusername: im right beind you darling, i believe in you❤️‍🩹
user81: i fear if i listen to this anywhere outside of the comfort of my room i will break down in tears
user93: 🩵🩵
user42: I😭JUST😭WANTED😭YOU😭TO😭KNOW😭THAT😭THIS😭IS😭ME😭TRYING😭
sebastianvettel: im so proud of you yn, come visit with charles soon sweetheart
yourusername: dropping everything and coming right now
lewishamilton: 💜💜
yourusername: hi lewis🤭🤭
user70: YN HELP😭😭 (just like me fr)
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charles_leclerc and yourusername added to their stories
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seen by pierregasly, sebastianvettel and 2,348,172 others
*text on first photo reads: i hold so much love for you🩷* *text on second photo reads: my bestest friend in the entire universe🩵*
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lehguru · 1 year
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CALLING THEM MY LOVE + STRAW HATS
characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, usopp, robin, franky, brook + jinbei
warnings: not proofread + commissions are open !
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monkey d.luffy doesn't even care about pet names. you try to call him out by using "my love", but he doesn't even look at you; he only notices you're calling him when you use his name or a nickname. "oh, what's up?" he simply answers, his wide eyes staring at you with obvious happiness and joy – simply out of seeing you there. everyone in the crew smiles at the obliviousness of their captain and the situation just becomes a joke. (nami asks if you need her to punch him till he acknowledges the pet names)
roronoa zoro almost growls at you when those two words leave your lips if you two aren't alone. it's not that he hated those cute names, he likes them, but in private; he knows that if you two use any pet name, sanji and the others won't stop bothering him, so he prefers to keep everything behind closed doors. if you call him 'my love' before bed, he will softly smirk at you and kiss your forehead, holding you close to his body.
sanji feels like doing backflips when you call him by any cute name. "my love, do you need any help?", he didn't need it, but as his body hits the floor, his eyes having hearts on them, he ends up needing help. he begs you to call him like that again, saying that it makes him feel all warm and nice that his sweetie is giving him such cute nicknames.
nami scoffs anytime you come up with a new nickname. "i'm not going to give you more money", she always says, her arms crossed in front of her chest. when she notices you're just being soft and adorable, she will press light kisses all over your face and woo at you. "you're s' lovely, baby! c'mon, les' have a date!"
usopp waves between being embarrassed by the pet name and being cocky about it. he can and will go "heh, obviously 'm your love! 'm usopp, after all!"; but if you do it in private, he will bury his face on your neck and quietly ask "do ya really think that?". no matter what, he will hug you and spin you around, laughing with joy at your own giggles. usopp will want to be next to you the rest of the day, doing his silly little jokes and telling you more stories to hear you laugh at him.
robin tears up softly after hearing you call her 'my love' for the first time. she never felt like that before; the straw hats make her feel like she belongs somewhere, but you... you make her feel something greater than that. the tall woman will grab your hand and softly kiss your knuckles, bringing you closer to her body so her other hand can rest on your hips. "you are my love, too." she will softly whisper against the skin of your hand, her lips forming the softest smile.
franky will immediately pick you up so you can sit on his metallic shoulder. "aren't you proud that your love is super strong?", he would say with a wide smirk. he would make sure to tell everyone that pass you two that you're the best partner ever and that he's so lucky to have someone like you – even if all crew members know about that.
brook laughs loudly. looming over you, he would start giggling and tease you a little; "yohoho? 'm your love! oh, my dear! i am truly your love!" he would pull his violin out and start serenading you, singing all the songs that he wrote about you. if you sit and applaud him every single timehe finishes a song, he will fall even harder for you.
jinbei simply smiles and puts his hand on the top of your head, cautiously so he doesn't end up hurting you. he resumes on doing whatever he was doing before, but your words would ring in his ears and he would remain with a smile on his face the rest of the day. at night, before you went to sleep, he would kiss your forehead and murmur, "goodnight, my love."
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2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used on them belong to their respective creators!!
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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Interviewers Are Assholes
The world didn't know about their relationship. But, once they find out, they refuse to leave her alone
(AKA I saw a martin brundle grid walk compilation and he asked someone 'who are you?' and i ran with it)
Loscar x reader
F1 Masterlist
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"Are we doing Thanksgiving this year?"
This was not the conversation Logan and Oscar expected to hear from their girlfriend as the three of them stood on the grid. It was normally F1 staff, drivers, engineers, mechanics and such, along with celebrities on the grid before a race. But, dating two drivers on different teams meant not being about to sit in both of their garage at once (she was only human, after all).
So, they stood on the grid together before the race, chatting before the national anthem was played.
"It's kinda early to be talking about Thanksgiving, babe," Logan muttered, shaking his head.
She held her hands up, somewhat defensively. "Just trying to be prepared."
They'd been together for four years at this point. For the first two years of their relationship they hadn't had to worried about traditional celebrations from their countries of origin. But when they all moved in together, she insisted on it.
The first year they'd lived together, they'd gone to Florida for Christmas, spent it with Logan's family.
The next year they'd done Thanksgiving before heading to Australia for a traditional Australian Christmas, filled with seafood and everything.
This year, though, they had no idea what they were doing. Of course she was already stressing about it. It didn't surprise Logan and Oscar in the slightest.
Suddenly Logan and Oscar were looking past her. "What?" She asked, readying herself to turn around. But then Logan and Oscar were retreating. "Guys!" She called, readying to follow them.
There was a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, coming face to face with Martin Brundle on his grid walk. "Hello, who are you?" Martin Brundle asked.
It made sense. She clearly wasn't working for any F1 team, and she was surrounded by celebrities. The fact that she was talking to two of the drivers probably made him all the more curious.
"I am..." But she didn't have an answer for him. Who was she? It had been four years already, why were they hiding it. "I am a... wag," she answered, and immediately regretting it.
What she didn't know was that Logan and Oscar didn't get very far. They stood behind her, just out of view of Martin Brundle's camera, giggling as they listened to her struggle.
"Who's wag are you?" Martin Brundle asked, but he already knew. He'd seen them retreating as he walked over.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Good question, Martin," she said. "Who's wag am I?" Did she choose one of the boys? If so, which one? Or did she just come out to the world, tell everyone that she loved Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri?
She went with the latter, unaware of how much it would come to affect her. "Sargeant and Piastri," she said, scratching the back of her neck.
This might have been the strangest grid walk Martin Brundle had ever done. She didn't sound entirely happy to be dating the McLaren Driver and the Williams Driver. Don't get me wrong, she was happy to be dating them, but she was ready to kill them. Assholes.
"What kind of result are you expecting from them today?" She asked.
"Well, Martin, I'm always hoping they do well. Every Grand Prix they try their absolute hardest and every week I'm proud of them," she said, the perfect answer.
Lets just say, after the grid walk, the internet kind of blew up. Loscar was a somewhat forgotten ship, replaced by Landoscar. But it had returned and it was real. It was actually real!
As with everything in F1, some fans loved it, some fans didn't. But, most of all, everybody was so curious. Nobody knew this four year long relationship was a thing until a couple of weeks ago. Everybody, especially F1 reporters wanted to know everything.
Media days were completely filled with questions about their relationship. Logan and Oscar rarely got asked about anything else. They didn't mind. They were more than happy to talk about it.
But interviewers took it too far when they pulled her into things. She wasn't media trained in the way they were. She didn't have a PR team that prepared her with every answer for every question. That was how the grid walk had gone so wrong (or so right, if you asked the Loscar boys).
Oscar had gotten through to Q3, Logan hadn't. As always, she was there to comfort him, to hold him close after media duties. Media duties, which were taking ages.
But then the interviewer spotted her standing behind him. "It was recently reviewed to the world that you and Oscar share a girlfriend. How did that come about?"
The camera focused in on her behind him, as she furrowed her brow. It picked up no sound, but watched as her lips moved, forming 'what the fuck?' It was lost on her, and everyone, what this had to do with racing.
"Uhm, well, we've all known each other for our entire lives, it just made sense that we all dated," he said, clearly uncomfortable.
As soon as the interview was over, Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her away. "Sorry baby," he said, kissing the top of her head.
"Why is it such a big deal to everyone?" She mumbled, shaking her head.
Most Wags weren't pulled in for interviews. The invasive questions had been a step to far already to the Loscar throuple.
This time, after checking on Oscar in the McLaren garage, kissing him before he went off to to his drivers room. She headed out, meeting the both of them at the car. She never expected to be accosted by an interviewer.
She didn't know his name, she didn't care. He grabbed her arm, pulled her on camera, and shoved a microphone in her face. "So, Y/N, what is it like to be dating to F1 drivers?"
There was a moment before she answered. Her brows were furrowed as she looked between the interviewer and the camera. "Why... why are you interviewing me?"
"The three of you have stunned the world with the announcement of your relationship. When did the three of you meet?"
"Uhm, I-Well... uhm... We've known each other for... sorry, why the hell am I being interviewed? This isn't... I don't want to be interviewed. Please leave me alone."
The interviewer bashfully turned to the camera, trying to recover. As soon as he looked away, she retreated, heading back towards one of her boys drivers room.
Oscar wasn't in his drivers room. He walked towards her, grabbing a hold of her before she had a chance to notice him. "Hey, baby," he said, pulling her close. "Is Logan not ready yet?"
Before answering, she turned back towards the exit, where the interviewer was still waiting. "Let's go get him," she said, pulling Oscar towards the Williams garage.
But Logan, too, was walking towards them. "Logan!" She called, throwing her arms around him. Oscar hung back. When she let go of him, they headed to the exit together. "There's a fucking annoying interviewer up there, and I want to kick his ass," she said, linking her arms through theirs.
"Kick his ass, baby."
They walked to the exit together. Once again, as they walked past the interviewer, he tried to grab their attention. Logan and Oscar were prepared to pull her past, to ignore him, but she stopped. She turned to the interviewer and grabbed his microphone.
"Just a PSA literally everybody," she began. The interviewer and the boys watched on with curiosity. "Our relationship is none of our business. Fuck off."
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drvscarlett · 1 month
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Let him cook pt 2
Charles Leclerc x Masterchef!reader
Series Part: 1
taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life
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CharlesLeclercUpdates posted a photo.
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CharlesLeclercUpdates Charles Leclerc appeared in MasterChef Australia episode "Cooking to Survive"
User1 Ariana what are you doing hereeeee??
User2 I thought only f2 drivers were allowed for that, why was Charles wandering around
User7 In his defense, Ollie was with him. Maybe Ollie got invited and Charles tagged along.
User3 Okay but did anyone notice how his eyes lit up when Y/N talked to him. The boy was whipped!
User8 Charles can't get Y/N, he can't even cook User9 Agree User8! Besides Y/N has a long-time boyfriend, they are super cute. Do you all not watch the different challenges she dedicated to him?
Y/NCooks posted a photo.
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Liked by Charles_Leclerc, friend1, and 255,000 others.
YNCooks what a stunning day! We won today as the captain of the red team and coincidentally there was a red team 1-2 as well??? #AlwaysBetOnRed
User1 Mother you slayed!!! I was so surprised to see you at the GP!
YNCooks me too!! This is one of the best team challenges ever.
User2 Charles is on the likes. Charles is on the likes.
Charles_Leclerc Congrats on your win!!!
Y/NCooks Thank you! You too, you did great!!!
User3 The collab of this masterchef and f1 community is not on my bingo list.
User4 Y/N's boyfriend how are you feeling that Charles is stealing your girl away??
"Are you seeing this right now? They thought that I am stealing you away" Charles grumbles over the phone. You can't see him right now but you can actually visualize the frown lines forming and the soft scowl that he has on his face "Why would I steal my own girlfriend?"
"Oh mon ami"
"And did they even watch the episodes? Like couldn't they piece it together that I'm the one that you are referring to I mean the cake and then the adopted italian narrative" Charles continued to rant on
It was adorable to hear Charles like this. How you wish that you weren't just conversing over the phone, how you wish that you could be there for him right now.
"Y/N you still there?" Charles' voice brought you out of your musings.
"Yep, I'm still here. Just a little bit tired" you explained
"You had a really long day mon amour."He says "I'm really so proud of you. You are slowly achieving your dreams"
"As I am very proud of you Charles. You always shine the brightest when you are up on that podium. I wish I could be there on the front lines cheering for you"
"One day you will be"
There is a peaceful silence shared between the two of you. The thing about you and Charles was that you both understand that this is a better situation than being under scrutiny by everyone. Charles had his fair share of public relationship and he learned a lot from it. He just wanted to keep this as his for a little while longer.
"I love you, I'll see you soon" "Love you more honey"
Risotto challenge
You were not always having a good day in the kitchen and this is one of those episodes that you did not do well hence the elimination challenge. The judges commented that there was no problem with the dish that you made but it was simply not as risky as what the others did. So you are really driven to show them creativeness.
Charles was watching the episode with so much dread as he hears that the elimination dish is a reinvention of a risotto. He watched enough MasterChef season with you to know that this dish is the death dish aka the dish that usually sends people home.
He understands the dilemma that you are facing right now, play it safe and stick to the classic which means it won't stand out or play it risky and be booted for elimination.
"I'm making Quinoa risotto" that was your bold decision and Charles couldn't believe his ears.
"Mon amour, risotto is rice. Quinoa is not rice" Charles mumbled to himself
"I know its a big risk but I have to show them that I am a risk taker and that I am a MasterChef winner material"you confidently state in the interview.
It was a stressful few minutes to Charles as he watched how the judges has already decided that the idea of a quinoa risotto would be an utter disaster. Nevertheless, he saw the determination in your eyes and how you defended why you opted to go for a risotto.
"Do you often cook quinoa at home?" Matt asked as he and Jean Pierre White scrutinize your table.
"I don't really" you replied with a shy smile "Well truthfully I don't even know what quinoa is before my boyfriend introduced me to it. It was a part of his diet so I went ahead and learn how to cook quinoa so he could eat"
This was new information for Charles and he felt warm with this new fact. He remembers how every time he visits you, there will be a variation of his diet meals that will ensure that he won't get bored of food and still be on track with his diet. He takes note that he will be grateful for that when she comes back.
"We're looking forward to taste that risotto" Matt says
Time went by and Charles let out a small sigh of relief after knowing that you completed your dish. Charles have full confidence with the dish that you made and he hopes that the judges will take a new perspective with this quinoa risotto.
"Quinoa is not a risotto" Marco Pierre White stated. It was all so menacing how he said it with flat emotions and a monotone voice. Charles could feel himself sweating as they tasted the dish.
"But this is another take that I will welcome" Another sigh of relief for Charles. He knows that you got this in the bag.
Cooking for a special someone
"We're now down to a challenge for the top two spots in the MasterChef kitchen, are you excited?"
Everything was so surreal. Starting from 20 and now they are down to the last 4 contestant. You were so grateful that you are another step closer to your dream of being a MasterChef winner.
"For this week, we will be bringing in some important guests who you will need to impress in order to secure a spot as a MasterChef finalist."
The contestants were asked to step one by one. You started to notice that they brought in their loved ones and you were fidgeting a bit because you don't know who they will bring out.
"Last but definitely not the least, Y/N step forward" Gary says "Are we gonna meet the boyfriend?"
"Oooh the boyfriend. We have been hearing about him for ages now" Matt teased
"The boyfriend is very busy" you replied as you remembered that he is probably in America right now.
"Oh cmon, cant he miss out a day or two"
"Its a job hazard to miss out a few days" you answered. It's all about the points so you really can't fault Charles not wanting to miss a single day at work.
"Okay in that case, our mystery guest for Y/N is............."
The MasterChef door opens and you were surprised to see not one but two Leclercs.
"What are you doing here down under?" you asked as you gave them a hug
"We're going to support you obviously!" Arthur grinned
It was weird because this was the first time that you will be with Arthur and Lorenzo with cameras rolling. You were nearly in tears when you hugged the two of them. Without even asking, you knew right away that Charles sent them since he will be busy with the races.
"And who are they to your life Y/N?" the judges asked
"This is Arthur and Lorenzo, they are very close friends. They treat me as if I'm one of their own" you smiled.
"I'm sure you are going to be inspired to cook now that you have them around"
The pressure was definitely on especially when you were told that there is a need to present 2 dishes, one sweet and another savory in 75 minutes. However, you were pumped to hear the cheers coming from the balcony as Arthur enthusiastically showers you with compliment while Lorenzo takes photos.
Charles, on the other hand, has been constantly checking his phone, now that he is done with free practice. He felt quite jealous that his brothers were able to see you and support you in person. Although, he was quite happy that they are having the time of life supporting you.
Lorenzo texted him about 30 minutes ago that they will be judging and eating the food that the contestants made. He was slowly getting impatient of the results, he wanted to know what's going on.
1 new text message.
Lorenzo: She got in! She's a finalist!!!
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mooshywrites · 2 months
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What they’d be like as a dad
Bg3 men and fatherhood
Masterlist
Art Commissions
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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Astarion ~
~ Astarion wasn’t sure he wanted to be a father at first
~ After all, kids require a lot of attention and affection, things he was still learning to give
~ So when he realized he was going to be a father, he was a nervous wreck for a while
~ Everything changed when he held his pale little bundle of blanket
~ After that, he was almost obsessive
~ His favorite was the toddler phase, he loved walking around and seeing your little one see discover everything in the world for the first time
~ He was a little too indulgent, though he’d never admit it. There was nothing his baby could point to that he’d say no to
~ Even if he had to steal it
~ In the evenings, you’d find him sitting in front of the fireplace, snuggled close with the baby
~ “I want to give you everything I never had and more”
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Wyll ~
~ Wyll was excited to be a dad and was very present through the whole process
~ He worked a lot, but made sure to spend as much time as possible with his kid
~ Even when he wasn’t home, he talked about the baby all the time
~ He told everyone who would listen everything new the kid had learned, proudly boasting about their accomplishments
~ His favorite part of the day was coming home from a long day as the Duke, being tackled by their clingy kid
~ He’d laugh and clean up, sitting with them to patiently hear about their day
~ He always brought home gifts for you both, little snacks or a new toy that had caught his eye
~ He was the perfect playmate, he loved making wooden swords and props to pretend
~ At dinner time, he made sure everyone got a full plate before he fixed one himself
~ Then he’d ask around the table, making sure to give his child undivided attention
~ “The highest honor I could ever receive is being called your father”
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Halsin ~
~ Halsin was made to be a dad and wanted a big family
~ In the end, he had a mixed herd of orphans he’d adopted, kids he’d fathered, and a few mystery cases
~ It didn’t matter if they were blood or not, he loved them all the same
~ Halsin’s a very patient dad, he loved to teach the kids everything he knew about the world
~ He memorized each of their favorite fruits, making sure to stop and gather them often
~ He loved when the herd gathered around him and begged him to turn into a bear, using him as a giant furry jungle gym
~ Those days usually ended in a big sleeping pile, all the kids snuggled into his soft fur
~ His kids were his entire world, and he knew each of their personalities well
~ It wasn’t rare at all for each kid to have a collection of whittled toys, each personalized to them
~ “Guiding you through life is my greatest joy and my deepest pride”
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Gale ~
~ Gale was nervous, but excited to be a dad
~ Tara was absolutely exasperated by the amount of questions he asked her, saying she was too old to remember how to raise a Dekarios
~ So he started researching instead
~ The two of you could have built an entire nursery with the parenting books he bought
~ He relaxed quite a bit after the baby was born, falling into fatherhood in a beautifully natural way
~ He loved sitting with your child and entertaining them, spending hours casting little spells
~ He made sure the baby never felt lonely, helping them sneak in all sorts of creatures
~ He loved when the kids hit school age and took interest in all of their hobbies
~ The house was an absolute mess of crafts and experiments, Gale never said no to exploring a theory
~ He was always a safe place for your kid to go to, he had the best listening ear and advice
~ “There isn’t enough time in the world for me to tell you how proud I am of you”
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eveningepiphany · 9 months
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welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot
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my masterlist!
summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.
warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!
a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.
also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig
———
There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.
That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.
You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.
You’d waited years just to get here in general.
When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.
But you’re here. At the front.
You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.
A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.
Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.
But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.
Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.
You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.
Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.
“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.
You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.
“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.
Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”
Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.
“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.
“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.
You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”
You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.
“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.
“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.
You could stay in this moment forever.
As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.
You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.
Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.
Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.
Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.
And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”
“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.
Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.
The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.
You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.
You were enamoured by him.
Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.
His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.
“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.
“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.
He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”
You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.
But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.
From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.
But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.
This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.
And then he reads the sign.
‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’
His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.
You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.
“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.
As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.
However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.
He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.
“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”
“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.
You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.
Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.
‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.
A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.
“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.
He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.
“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.
“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”
A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”
Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.
You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.
“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.
He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”
You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.
The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.
Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.
“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.
“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.
“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”
And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.
You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.
And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.
But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.
You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.
It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.
To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.
Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”
You blow a kiss back.
And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.
Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.
You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.
Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.
———
Post love on tour depression is a real thing.
There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.
But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.
The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.
And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.
The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.
You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.
You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.
It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”
It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.
That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.
Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.
“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.
He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.
He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.
“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.
You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.
But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.
You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.
“Hi…” You flush profusely.
“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.
Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.
The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.
That are very intensely locked onto yours…
“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”
He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”
“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.
“Y/N.” He tuts gently.
“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.
“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.
“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.
“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”
“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.
Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?
You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.
“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”
“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.
“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.
You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.
He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.
Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.
You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.
Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.
Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.
You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.
You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.
You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”
He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.
“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.
“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.
“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,
“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”
Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”
He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.
In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.
“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.
The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.
“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.
“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.
“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.
“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”
He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”
“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.
“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.
“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.
“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”
“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.
“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.
“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”
He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.
You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.
Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.
The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.
He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.
Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.
You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.
But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.
You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”
He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”
A friend of his?
“Alright, bye, I love you.”
And just like that the phone hung up.
“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.
“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.
You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.
“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.
It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.
“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”
“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”
As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.
Your brain stalls at his comment.
“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.
“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”
“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.
He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.
“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.
You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”
He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”
“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”
You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”
He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.
You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.
“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”
You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”
He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.
You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.
“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.
“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.
He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.
“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.
Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.
You check your phone to see the time.
1:53pm
1 new notification
Unknown Number | :)
So that actually did just happen.
———
To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,
so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?
And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.
———
part two!!
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adventuringblind · 10 months
Text
Defensive Maneuvers
Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader
Genre: fluffy with a pinch of angst
Request: yes! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Requests are open for Max, Charles, Oscar, and lando. Don't hesitate to send me ideas!
Summary: The normally soft-spoken leclerc sister becomes the out spoken girl her family knows. What triggers this change? Max Verstappen and his ridiculous father.
Warnings: Jos being Jos, mentions of verbal abuse, mention of physical abuse if you squint, *best Daniel Riccardo voice* nooooot prooooofreaaaad
Notes: written in third person . I am neither the youngest nor have brothers, so I tried my best to get an accurate relationship depiction. Ironically, I'm the oldest with sisters.
Masterlist
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The Leclerc sister is known by her brothers as the baby of the family. Even Arthur, who is only older by mere minutes, holds it over her head that she is the youngest.
The constant teasing from her siblings made her learn how to use her quick wit. Verbal comebacks becoming her specialty at a young age. Because of her ability to be polite in public, no one suspects what she is truly capable of.
Her brothers tease her regardless but she lets them. Her sharp tongue making them regret not holding theirs.
Pierre had made this mistake once. Mainly under the influence of Charles convincing him to say something at her expense. The verbal lashing he received in response had him apologizing profusely. Charles doubling over in laughter as her practically lectured his friend. Needless to say, Pierre has yet to make this mistake again.
Charles was by far her favorite sibling. Lorenzo had a habit of bossing her around and Arthur shared a room with her. She loved all her brothers, but felt the most connected to Charles. She followed him around like a lost puppy some days. Ready to cheer him on at every Karting race.
This was where she first encountered Max.
After the race, she went to go congratulate Charles for a race well done. He was third but all the Leclerc’s were proud nonetheless. On the way over to him, she saw Max. He was at majority of the races Charles was at. The two had never talked formally, but they were aware of the others existence.
Something about the situation she was witnessing didn’t felt right. Max was standing with his dad, his knuckles turning white from gripping his second place trophy so tightly.
As she walked by, she almost fell over at hearing how his father was treating him. The slander leaving his mouth over his son placing second almost made her tear up. She was only nine at the time, but even she knew whatever was happening was wrong.
So she steeled herself, took a deep breath, and entered into the conversation. She walked up and tapped Max’s shoulder. He jumped at the feeling, not having seen you coming.
“Hello Max, Charles is busy with family but wanted to congratulate you.” She smiled warmly at the Dutch boy. Obviously taken off guard.
Jos turned to her, also not knowing how to handle this. “Not much to congratulate,” he sneered. The young Leclerc narrows her eyes at him. Not realizing how brash the older man is.
“What do you mean, Mr. Verstappen? There is plenty to congratulate.” She questions back, her tone mildly snarky. Obviously having no intention of backing down. The older man didn’t even bothering responding to her. He turns on his heels and walks away. Yelling back to Max “I’ll be in the car.”
Max looks between the girl who he’d never spoken too and his father. Unsure of what he should do in this situation. Thankfully the girl notices this. “Sorry for stepping in. He sounded unreasonably upset.” She apologized with a huff.
“Thanks actually- for what you did.” Max stutters out. No one had ever taken the time to defend him.it was an unusual feeling. He knows he can’t stay long though. “I should go. I’ll see you around- I guess.” Then he runs off. Waving as he goes.
She had told her mother about it. The older woman explaining what was probably happening at home. It made her sad for the Dutch boy. Having to hear that it happens more often then just races.
This was only the first encounter with Max. The Leclerc sister made it a point to find Max after every race and praise for a job well done. Much to his fathers dismay. She knew she couldn’t stop what was happening, but maybe her words would help ease some of the hurt.
The girls mother occasionally helped out with her quest. Walking with her daughter to find the Dutch and congratulate him.
It became a routine. One that Max was starting to enjoy. The seeking out now being reciprocated. The two even finding time to converse about things aside from racing.
Max’s father had started to become increasingly more annoyed at this fact. Pulling Max away from you. Spitting vulgar words at a child that wasn’t even his own.
Pascals had made a note that if she was directly insulting to Mr. Verstappen, it might make things harder for Max. She still made her snarky remarks and threw insults at the older man, but only loud enough to make Max chuckle.
Her brothers eventually caught on. Charles and Arthur saying nice things to Max in passing. Charles was more strained, but was trying nonetheless.
The brothers began teasing her relentlessly as they grew up. Her fondness for Max only growing. Her quick tongue seemed to falter when they brought up Max. She held a soft spot for him, as he did for her.
When Max and Charles were in formula 2, she was incredibly proud of both of them. She divided her time equally between the two boys. Still always making sure to sing Max’s praises loud enough for everyone to hear.
Originally she though Max’s father would cool down and maybe start to see how talented he is, but she was mistaken. The older man somehow seemed to get more competitive.
It was increasingly easier to talk to each other now since the two both have phones. She comforted over video calls as he ranted about something stupid his father said to him. He listens to her talk about her fathers battle with illness. The two became inseparable. Being the reason for each others smiles on most occasions.
Then formula 1 came. Charles driving for Ferrari and Max for Redbull. The youngest Leclerc baskets in both boy finally making it. Years of hard work paying off.
Max no longer lived at home. Having moved to an apartment in Monaco. This meaning the two could spend more time together. The, now young woman, takes pride in that fact she convinced him to move closer to her.
She’d become more outspoken recently. Opening defending both her brothers and Max. Most people knew not to say anything if she was within earshot.
The year is now 2021 and Max and Lewis are both fighting hard for the championship title. Max was visible upset at the end the race. Second place wasn’t enough if Lewis is going to keep winning.
The young woman immediately trying to find him after the podium celebration. She had seen the look in his fathers eyes and is now frantically trying to beat him to Max. Charles and Arthur found her in a frenzy. Confused because she is usually calm, her sarcastic remarks and opinions given so level that you’d think it was rehearsed.
“I need to find Max.” She explained, panting from running around the paddock. They decided three sets of eyes would be better then one and split off in different direction.
She was so caught up in her search for Max that she hadn’t noticed her phone buzzing in her pocket.
A text from Charles reading: In the back of the Redbull garage. It doesn’t look good.
She took off running spotting snarled waiting for her outside. She could hear the commotion from Jos.
“I was going to try and break it up but they won’t let me in.” Charles gestures to the wall of Redbull engineers. She however, wasn’t going to let them stop her from getting to Max. She shoved her way through with determination and surprising strength. Immediately settling herself between the two Dutch men.
Jos had turned his anger towards her now. His finger getting dangerously close to her face. “You are part of the problem.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “The only problem currently is you.”
“My son has been distracted because of you. His hopes for a title this year not getting any better because of you.” He spits. She can feel his breath on her face.
“Personally, I think Max is a good racer because he wants to be. Not because of you or me helping or distracting.” She lets a smirk form on her lips. “Your just angry because your finally running out of things to berate him about. Hard to be angry when Max is better then you.”
Jos’ face had turned red. She could feel Max’s anxiety increasing from behind her.
Then everything happened in slow motion. She hadn’t noticed Jos’ hand raised above her. Charles moved faster then anyone. Shoving Jos to the side, his hand not getting to connect with anything but the nearest wall.
He was raging now. Thrashing like a child who didn’t get their way. Pierre and Charles who had somehow managed their way inside kept a firm grip on him as Christian ran to get security.
The Youngest Leclerc. The one who spent her days defending Max in secret, keeping the haters at bay never letting Max go a day without know he is loved. Finally she turned around and stared deeply into his eyes. Blue irises glasses over from tears he’d been holding back.
She embraces him warmly. His face buried into the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” She apologized softly.
Max pulled away and gives her a confused look. “On the contrary, I think you were right on time.”
Security had come and grabbed Jos to escort him out of the paddock. Charles and Pierre now finding then tension between the two heating up. The two boys giggling. “I swear if you two don’t kiss or something I will no play nice with Max.” Charles laughed.
She didn’t care about the teasing. Just taking time to comfort Max. The two still conjoined in a loose hold.
Max leans his forehead against hers. “You know I’ve loved you for awhile right?” He smiles.
“You would be stupid to not.” She remarks. Max shaking his head at the remark. “But I have to agree with Charles on this one.”
Max doesn’t hesitate any longer. Placing his lips on hers. Pulling her as close to him as he can. He then pulls away, his lips still close to hers and voice barely a whisper.
“Thank you, for protecting me all these years.”
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 4 months
Note
I don't know if your request is open can you write Creator reader who favorites Zhongli, Venti, Nahida?
They need love ok 🙄
Yep yep, got it! Lemme see what I can pull off :)
Favoritism! With The Archons (Discluding Ei and Furina—)!
(Warning: Might Be OOC!)
Nahida
She honestly loves the attention you give her! She's really happy to get to spend time with you, and really get to know you and who you really are despite your title as the Almighty Creator.
Loves it if you play with her—and especially loves to learn the kind of games that you played before you re-descended down to Teyvat. There's UNO...and that's pretty much all that I can remember but you get the idea—
Loves visiting you in your dreams to see what you dream of. The Almighty Creator would surely have dreams of all forms filled with creative and inspiring ideas!
Nahida would 100% try to ask you to hang out with her through the streets of Sumeru. She has no shame :D And, if anything, her people would see this as a blessing.
"Come on, Your Grace! I want to show you somewhere I found!" Nahida would also take you to the Aranaras, where you would eat fresh fruit, make flower crowns, and even play some hide-and-seek.
She loves making and meeting new friends, the Almighty Creator is no exception! Spend some time with her as much as you can, Nahida will cherish it!
Venti
Hohoho, you're down to hang out with this carefree bard? Well, the first hangout will definitely be inside the most extravagant tavern of all time!
Yes, he means Angel's Share. Or the Cat's Tail. Man has his standards and he ain't afraid to take you there. Prepare for the best wine you'll ever taste, because Venti sure as hell is proud of the wine of Mondstadt.
Loves to share ballads and songs with you. Some of them are even based off on you! Loves when you give him your feedback as well.
Give him apples. He'll be happy—that's not saying a lot. Any apple dish, he will eat. Even if the apple is very little.
"Yahoo, Your Grace!~ Wanna hear a ballad this amazing bard has made for you?" Would absolutely perform these ballads during Windblume Festival, so please praise him :D
Zhongli
OSMANTHUS WINE TASTES THE SAME AS I— *Aggressive Truck Noises Driving Pass*
Take him out for food, buy him any gifts, ANYTHING. This man loves anything you'll give as well (trust me)
Just take some time to spend with him. Strolling through the area, the market, it doesn't matter—he cherishes all moments with you, as you are a friend (and more cough cough)
Osmanthus wine. Yes.
"Ah, Your Grace. I am blessed to know that you have the time to spend it with me. Please, allow me to pour you a fine cup of tea." If you're a tea lover, you both are gonna have a really good time.
Zhongli loves to share stories, so if you like to know more about Liyue's history, you came to the right guy :)
He's also a good listener, so you can also share stories and he will be rapt with attention. He loves every single story you tell.
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: My procrastination is impeccable. I'm on a living streak, clearly. Welp, I hope this satisfies you—hopefully, the next request doesn't take too long (watch me eat those words).
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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floatyflowers · 3 months
Text
Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter Four
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<<< Chapter Three
You tried to fight them with your hardest, but you barely land hits on any of them.
But the sword is hard for you to handle and your hits are sloppy.
In the end, you got injured.
No, Ares's children didn't harm you, you cut yourself up with the sword by accident.
However, Percy fought them all off and your team won capture the flag.
Annabeth shoved Percy in the water where your doubts were confirmed as Poseidon claimed him as his son.
After the game, Chiron called you over to give you a letter from your mother.
For some reason you were so scared to open it, feeling like your mother was declaring in the letter that she disowns you and doesn't want to see you ever again.
But, it is the opposite of that.
My Sweet Angel,
I apologize for appearing like a coward, but I needed to get you to the camp.
However...I couldn't bring myself to enter the place because it brought bad memories for me.
I hate it, but I know it's necessary for your safety.
And you must understand that I would never be ashamed of you, I'm quiet proud of you.
After all, I was in your position when I was young.
PS. Your stepfather sends you his love and will prepare you all of your favorite food when you return home.
From your beloved mother,
Calista
You let out a happy laugh, finally feeling at ease that you misunderstood the whole situation.
Your mother loves you, but wait...
...She is a demigod.
But what do that make you?
Also who is her godly parent.
You will ask Chiron about it later, he must know who he is.
Suddenly you hear knocking on the front of your cabin door, you go to open it only to see Annabeth.
You smile at her cheerful and shyly but invite her inside.
Once she is inside, you begin apologizing.
"I'm sorry about my performance, I swear I tried my best but-"
She cuts you off.
"No need to worry, you did amazing on your first try"
Your expression brightens up.
"Thank you"
"No problem, girls stick together, am I right?" Annabeth says with a smile.
"Yes...would you like to stay over and chit chat for a bit?"
"Sure!"
And that's how you made a first female best friend in camp.
°°°
"I chose you for the quest, you cannot say no to it"
"Well, the quest is going to fail, did you not see my fighting skill? It's horrible!"
Percy as usual barged into your cabin to inform you of the quest.
"Come on, Grover and Annabeth will be there too, there is nothing to fear"
Your eyes grow big upon hearing the name 'Grover'  as a smile appears on your face.
"Grover is here? Is he also a demigod?"
°°°
"You are a Satyr?"
You tilt your head, looking down at the tan skinned boy's legs.
"Yes...weird, I know"
"No, it's not weird at all, actually it is kind of cute" you say.
Grover smiles and blushes but Percy walks between you both, to break the nearness.
"We need to focus on the quest" Percy asserts with jealousy.
"Is that Thalia?" you ask Annabeth as she says goodbye to the tree.
"Yes"
"She’s really gonna miss that tree, huh?"
Percy says sarcastically, looking with envy as you interact with Annabeth, also patting the tree gently, saying something he can't hear.
He doesn't want you to interact with anyone.
If he can lock you up, he will do it.
"When Annabeth first arrived here with Thalia and Luke, they were being chased by monsters. Agents of Hades. Sisters. Furies."
"Mrs. Dodds?" Percy points out.
"Yes! One was our algebra teacher. Alecto. Thalia turned back to fight to buy her friends some time. Her satyr protector tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. So, at the last moment... Zeus intervened to save her life and... changed her form."
"The most powerful being in the universe’s best idea to save his daughter’s life... was to turn her into a tree?"
Percy mocks after his friend finishes explaining as you and Annabeth walk back to them.
"She was the bravest demigod I ever knew. She fought valiantly, and she met a hero’s fate." Annabeth defends.
"She met a pinecone’s fate."
"Percy" you exclaim, piniching his arm.
"What? I'm telling the truth"
You sigh in anger, before turning to Annabeth with a gentle expression and say.
"If I ever meet Zeus, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind"
Grover nods his head slowly at you.
"Yeah, so he can strike you down with lighting bolt"
"Can't strike me down with something he lost"
You say playfully walking ahead of them.
"She is going to get us killed" Annabeth mutter
"And I don't mind dying for her" Percy respond firmly, following after you like a lovesick puppy.
°°°
Calista walks around the house, cleaning every corner and making sure everything is in order.
She developed an OCD, ever since she became pregnant with her only daughter, you.
The demigod woman feared that all her past relationships with the gods might come back and slap her in the face through you.
She would die if something happened to you, that's why she thought it was the best decision to send you to Camp Half-Blood.
While doing house work, the doorbell rings, she walk over to the front door and opens it.
But once she sees who is on the other side, she tries to close it, but the person stops her and shoves his way in.
"This is no good way to greet me, young lady"
"What are you doing here?" Calista demands in fear.
"Well, I came to take you back to the underworld"
Hades answers back with a smirk.
"I'm not going anywhere, my daughter-"
"Don't worry, I sent someone to get her, so we can all become a big happy family"
Chapter Five>>>
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hi lovely :) i have a request for you!!
i’m thinking spencer reid x reader (and platonic!bau team if you don’t mind!!) where reader is having a bit of a rough time with mental health, but is 1 year clean and they have a lil celebration? thank you!!
-🍓 (this is my application for being an emoji anon lmao)
hi, thank you! ♡ fem 1k
cw implied drug use
You're expecting your boyfriend's voice when a hand touches your shoulder, but it's actually Hotch that speaks. "Good morning. Are you feeling alright?" 
You meet his furrowed brow with a softer expression. "Morning, Hotch. I'm good, I'm," —you stretch your arms out in front of you in a lie— "just really tired." 
"Take it easy today, okay?" You nod quickly. "Okay. And Y/N? Well done." 
You enjoy the shoulder squeeze he gives you and hide your abject puzzlement as he heads up the steps to his office, briefcase in hand. It's always nice to be doted on, but what's today? 
"Hello," a new voice says, a hand again on your shoulder, ducking down to kiss you behind the ear. Here's your expected boyfriend, Spencer's voice low and spectacularly sweet, "Good morning. You're here early, I haven't even made you coffee." 
"That's okay, I can make it." 
His arms cross over your chest. He touches you so confidently, his lack of hesitance a great encouragement; it's hard to find room to feel insecure about things when Spencer seems to see no faults in you. Hard, but not impossible. 
As though he can sense your rough morning (rough week, rough month), he holds you that second longer than usual, lips like angora silk where they touch to your cheek. "I'll make it, thanks. It's the least you deserve today." 
"Right," you say. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb in farewell, leaving you wondering. Today isn't your birthday, you'd probably know if it were. 
"Hey, good morning!" Emily says as she arrives, thrusting her bag and her travel mug onto her desk before she descends on you. 
It's her hug that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. You give her hands an absent minded hold but pull back in her embrace. "Emily," you say, frowning at her, "what's so special about today?" 
She blinks like she's worried to tell you, but she gets it together and hugs you again. "You're one year clean today. Everybody's so proud of you," she says quietly. 
You almost bite the tip of your tongue off. "How do you know that?" you ask. The thing about staying clean is that it haunts you until it doesn't. Some people can't ever beat it, and some people can. It's been a huge struggle for you, but eventually relapsing stopped feeling like an option, especially while you've been with Spencer. You can't do anything to jeopardise your safety while you're with him, you just can't. (That doesn't mean you haven't desperately wanted to.)
"Well, I knew it would've been around now, but Spencer sent us a memo. Nothing too detailed, you know, but we all…" She smiles at you wryly. "We care about you so much, and we didn't get it right with Spencer." 
No, they didn't. Spencer didn't get half the support he deserved, so he's making sure you do. 
There's something of a mental block in you that doesn't allow you to cry, but this shakes you roughly. Emily gives you a sorry smile and a last quick hug, apologising that she has to go and speak to Hotch before the work day officially begins. You lean back in your chair and click dazedly on an email from Penelope detailing how deeply loved you are and wondering if you'd like to go shopping. I know today might be really hard, so if you need me you know where I am. Love Pen. 
"You okay?" Spencer asks, placing your coffee in front of you on the desk. 
"Come and sit with me for a bit." 
You don't sound like you're asking, but you are. Spencer hears the need in your demand and immediately grabs his chair to sit next to you. You're surprised he didn't squat. 
You turn your face, lay your cheek on the short back of the chair uncomfortably, and take him in. He looks great these days, the memory of a young man firmly buried beneath a well-fitting suit, a cropping of facial hair, and the subtle, lean lines of muscle especially evident as he sits back to copy you, curls falling into his eyes. "You told everyone about my anniversary." 
"Your accomplishment," he corrects quietly. "I did." 
"I do want them to know, just… I feel a bit raw." You hardly remembered yourself, though you knew it was soon. 
Spencer takes your hand, pulling the joined pair between his knees. "It's something to be extremely proud of. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating it." 
"It's embarrassing–" 
"It isn't." He sits up as someone comes closer and you follow suit. This is a complicated conversation and your simple intimacies are necessary but inappropriate in the workplace. "I'm sure there are a ton of people who find sobriety embarrassing, but those are all people who don't know what it feels like to have to do it. We," —his voice softens— "do. I know exactly how it feels, and I know exactly how you've been feeling lately, so I'm proud of you and everyone else should be too." 
"How I've been feeling lately?" you ask. 
"Come on." Spencer stands and takes your face into his hands. One is warmer than the other, and he uses it to stroke the baby hair's at your ear very gently. "You do a really good job at hiding how you feel, but you can't hide from me." 
"I'm not trying to." 
"Good," he says, leaning down to kiss you. A soft, brisk connection. "I love you." 
"Not as much as I do, loverboy!" Morgan says as he arrives, giving Spencer a little nudge as he needles his arms behind your back and kisses your cheek. 
"You're squeezing me." 
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Morgan asks, squeezing your harder. 
"Morgan, she knows you know." 
"Know what?" 
"You didn't see the memo?" Spencer asks. 
"What memo?" Morgan grins at you with pearly white teeth and scrubs at your shoulders until you're squirming at the pressure. It's nice. "Looking good, gorgeous." 
733 notes · View notes
chrollohearttags · 4 months
Note
sister cherry can we get some more sfw firefigher!ace hcs that you have in the vaults. i love him down 🥹🤲🏿🤲🏿
ask and you shall surely receive, my love!! y’all know how I feel about this mannnn omg. him and his stupid smile are in my cranium rent free 😫 driving me insane.
⚠️: fluff, comedy, light kissing and him being an absolute sweetheart
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FIREFIGHTER ACE HEADCANONS: PART TWO • SFW EDITION
firefighter!ace is unironically and blissfully unaware of the fact that he’s kind of Twitter/TikTok famous. Somebody happened to get a picture of him and a bunch of other first responders at an event and now he’s known on social media as ‘Firefighter Bae.’ Now he used it to his advantage to post workout vids, safety tips and humor about some of the things they encounter on the job.
firefighter!ace has a special lapel pin he always wears on his uniform or on his persons that he got from his crew mate, who passed in a fire years ago.
firefighter!ace has the HARDEST time letting the pets go from rescues. It can be someone’s dog with a whole name and address on the tag but he’s holding him like it’s his own.
“Are you sure we can’t keep him?” “Ace, give those people their dog so we can go!”
firefighter!ace adoresss kids! He’s always the first pick of the schools for fire safety day because he’s so charismatic and fun that the children just cling to him. Taking them on the fire truck, letting them wear the gear and even playing with them. He was such a natural, you became flustered and began to like him even more.
firefighter!ace gets along with all of your friends/roommates..a little too well in fact! Always going to Robin to snitch on you or Nami to gossip about how temperamental you are! But they adore him so much.
“You know how she is, she won’t listen to anybody.” “Tell me about it, she’s so hardheaded.” “Y’all do know I’m right here, don’t you? I can hear you!”
firefighter!ace owns a motorcycle and is an avid biker. He and his friends race + have their own lil club. He also brought you a matching jacket/helmet to ride with him.
firefighter!ace is suuuper affectionate. His love language is physical touch and always being near his s/o. All but gave up on being discreet when you guys FINALLY started dating and would kiss you on the cheek or grab your waist in front of the whole crew.
“What? I can’t kiss my wife? Assholes.” “You just started dating a month ago, calm down!
firefighter!ace loves when you play with his hair and lets him lay his head in your lap. He finds comfort in it after long days and rough calls. He’s already narcoleptic but he sleeps like a baby when you’re near him. Bonus points if you sing to him, he’s out like a light!
firefighter!ace loves dancing and he’s pretty good at it too.
firefighter!ace wears a matching beaded bracelet or necklace with your name/initials on it all the time. Carries it with him wherever he goes and always kisses it before going into a dangerous situation. And vice versa..to have each other’s strength. Even when you can’t show it.
firefighter!ace is incredibly bashful, despite his appearance, personality and reputation as a playboy. He gets insecure occasionally that you’ll find better.
“I know it’s not much, rookie. But I wanted to get you something. Just to show how proud I was of you..you did amazing on that call today.” “I know you can do better, I’m just happy you’re in my life.” “Oh shut up. As if anyone else could actually handle me. And I guess I’m kinda in love with you.”
firefighter!ace is never hesitant to tell you he loves you because he doesn’t know if it’ll ever be his last time saying it. So he doesn’t shy away from a moment to express his feelings.
firefighter!ace likes to show off during workouts by letting you sit on his back as he does pushups. But he knows you’re no princess and he’ll eventually get challenged by you to see who can do the most. (Of course placing a small wager to sweeten the deal.)
“Seriously, rookie. Here I am trying to be romantic and cool, and you ruin it. Such a goddamned brat.” “You were trying to showboat, you arrogant bastard and look where that got you. Now pay up.”
firefighter!ace LOVESSS watching you do your hair and going to the beauty supply with you. He loves the smell of all the natural oils and even asks you to pick him out some stuff. He doesn’t mind helping twist in a braid or two either. Once he gets the hang of it, this man is in your head like he’s a professional! Doing crochet, locs and all.
“Can you do the blonde braids again? They’re my favorite on you. Plus they look good with the uniform.” “You say that about all of them!”
firefighter!ace truly does love being in your presence. Whether it’s rushing through burning buildings or a chill night in his apartment, surrounded by ambient lighting and faux plants as the two of you cuddle…as long as he’s with you, it’s his happy place.
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runningfrom2am · 3 months
Text
cold nights // part twelve
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summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: i can't believe we made it to the end of s1! i am so, so excited to move on to the next era of this story! this is a reminder if you love this series and you haven't already please reblog this or the masterlist! it makes such a big big difference for me and my fellow writers know it all too well lol.
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
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Coriolanus wakes up, head on the open pages of Romeo and Juliet as people start to flood in, everyone anxious about what would happen to you.
He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, quickly casting his view to the screen ahead, camera view still locked on you. There was no one else for it to be tracking, after all. Except now, you were on Lamina's beam, lying down with your eyes closed. He wasn't sure if you were awake, or when you had even made your way down into the clearing, but you don't move. He can see the steady rise and fall of your chest as you lay with his scarf bunched up behind your head. Tigris was right, you had survived, but you wouldn't have without him. You looked peaceful- not at all like the girl he had seen crumbling apart on the same screen just a few hours prior.
"I feel as though I should inform you, they'll be going in very soon." Highbottom says, grabbing the boy's attention. "But I'd put my money on those boys being dead in there. Congratulations, Coriolanus. This means almost nothing for you."
He walks away before Coryo is even done processing what he had said. He wouldn't get the prize, most likely, but he would still have you.
You don't stir until you hear the peacekeepers entering the arena, sitting up and seeing them with guns pointed in your direction. "Don't move." One of them spits at you and you nod, eyes wide as you raise your hands. You watch as a designated team in different uniforms make their way up to enter the vents, and others spray something over the piles of snakes, stilling those that were still showing any signs of life.
"Is it over?" You ask, confused.
"Not until we can confirm you are the only remaining tribute." One of them answers and you nod, chewing on your lip as you watch the men disappear into the vents.
"Okay... Thank you."
You know what they would find in there, the bodies of the two boys trapped behind your salt line. You could tell them where the boys would be found, but then you'd be outing yourself. You had only confessed to Coryo. Only he could know. Last night, you didn't care. You have to assume he was the only one who witnessed your breakdown, your confession, because if anyone else had, you'd likely be dead by now. You have to hope your secret is safe with him if you want to go home.
The morning drags on forever as you sit there with guns pointed at you from the ground, and Coryo is pacing in the hall. There were many people around, excited to see if you would be crowned as the victor. People were rooting for you, and he was proud of that, but support didn't mean that you were promised a win.
Vipsania and Domitia were the only other two remaining mentors, whispering to each other across the room after they came back. It was eerily silent.
Then, one of the men emerges from the vent, turning all heads including yours as he just nods toward the peacekeepers watching you.
"Alright. Come on down." The same peacekeeper addresses you and you nod, a tear falling down your cheek.
"She did it." Coryo whispers to himself, realization forcing a grin onto his face.
Lucky laughs, clapping his hands together. "She's won! Y/N Y/L/N from District Twelve!" He calls out, making his way over to Coriolanus. "Coriolanus Snow is the Victor of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games!"
Coryo laughs in shock, smiling as the man pats his shoulder. He catches in the corner of his eye as his two classmates storm out, and he's quickly crowded with congratulations and praise.
"I won?" You ask quietly, feet landing on the ground again.
"Yes, they were found." He nods, and quickly your arms are being grabbed as you're led out of the arena.
"Do you know, did Coriolanus get his prize?" You ask them, but your question is ignored as you walk down the hall toward the exit, looking back over your shoulder as the gate is closed behind you.
Just outside the gates, you don't get much of a taste of freedom before you're being pushed into the back of the same truck. Empty. Bigger. Lonely.
"Empty your pockets." The peacekeeper tells you, standing at the entrance.
You do so hesitantly, holding up the compact on a shaky palm. "I'm sorry to ask, but can I have some water? Please?" You ask, once again ignored as the compact is pulled from your hand. "Please, sir, that was a gift... If you must take it can you return it to my mentor? Coriolanus Snow?"
He opens the cold metal, pulling out the piece of paper and unfolds it, quickly scanning it's contents. "That is for him, too. Though, if I had the chance now I would change it." You explain. You knew you both would be in deep trouble if you were caught for what you convinced yourself was no more than salt, and clarity came to you enough to lie about what the compact had contained all this time.
The peacekeeper hums, closing it up again and shoving both items into his own pocket, pointing the gun at you again. "Clothes off."
"Ex-excuse me?" You reply, taken aback by the request.
"Clothes off. Now." He repeats and you nod, swallowing the lump in your dry throat as you begin to slide off your dress, letting it fall at your feet. He moves the gun again, gesturing for you to continue. With trembling hands you remove your underthings, your shoes, and the scarf, placing them on the floor in front of you. He quickly gathers them, taking a step back and nodding to someone outside.
He moves out of the way and you stand there confused, watching as he shakes out your clothes and searches them, when suddenly you're being sprayed down with a hose. You yelp from the fast contact of the cold water pelting against your skin, but it wakes you up. After the initial shock, it actually feels good to be somewhat clean again.
You pant as the water is shut off, catching your breath and rubbing your arms to try and warm yourself again. Your clothes are tossed back into the truck at you before the door is slammed, and you use the scarf to try and dry yourself off a little bit before tying it around yourself the same way Coryo had. By the time you pull the second strap of your dress back on, the truck is moving and you're lurching forward.
You're driving for a while before the door is opened again, and you're relieved to get some fresh air. It was cold in there, and you were shivering in your small dress that was now also damp from your skin.
Once the doors open you're staring down the barrels of more guns as the peacekeepers usher you out and into the train station, right where you were let off all those days ago. Days... or weeks? You don't even know anymore.
"Lay off, why don't you? She's been through enough." A man in a black suit comes into your view, and they drop their weapons and let you go.
He steps in front of you and you wrap your arms around yourself to try and warm up. "Thank you, Sir." You smile, nodding at him politely.
"Nothing to thank me for..." He sighs. "I'm Dean Highbottom from the academy, it's a pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on your victory." Surprisingly to you, he doesn't seem inconvenienced. Someone other than Coryo and Sejanus seemed to be willing to talk to you, to treat you like a human again. When he congratulates you, he sounds sad.
"Thank you, Sir." You nod again. "Do I... Will I be going home now?"
"Yes. In just a few minutes." He nods, gesturing for you to follow him toward the train. "I am extremely familiar with your mentor, Coriolanus Snow." He tells you as you join his side.
"Oh, wonderful!" You force a smile. "I have some things for him, just a note and something he leant to me. I gave them to that man over there. Would you mind making sure they make it back to him?" You point out the peacekeeper as you follow him toward the train.
"I'll see to it that he gets it back, yes." Dean Highbottom nods with a slight roll of his eyes, stopping next to the stairs that would lead you onto the passenger train. "But... if I may offer you some advice?"
"Please." You nod, urging him on.
"Be grateful you survived him."
You want to ask what he means, but the anger you saw behind your friend's eyes that night in the arena would haunt you and you knew that. Surely, that's what the Dean is talking about.
"Yes." You agree, unsure what else to say when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stack of cash.
"Take this, your prize, I suppose." He hands it over to you. It must be hundreds of dollars. Maybe over a thousand. With this, you could do so much for your family. "Oh, and Miss Y/L/N... You wouldn't happen to know anything about the rat poison that was in that compact, would you?"
You tense up, tilting your head at him with a confused smile. "Poison? No... All I had put inside was salt." You reply. "Sejanus Plinth gave it to me, with food from his Ma. Salt is good for protection, you know, so I kept it for later. Keeps you safe from evil and harm." You ramble on, panic and shock in your tone. Sejanus had given you salt to put on some vegetables and sandwiches he brought you, but now that you're trying to piece the story together, you don't remember even opening the compact until you were in that vent. Coryo had told you not to open it, so you wouldn't have. Your own memory is confusing you.
"I've heard that." He nods, eyeing you skeptically.
The train horn makes you jump before you can even thank him.
"Go on, now." He urges you onto the train, deciding to let slide however you had came across the rat poison. Clearly, you didn't know what you had done. Or you were convincing yourself you didn't remember. "Enjoy your freedom."
You nod and step up onto the stairs. You were hoping you would get to see Coryo again, it disappointed you that you never would. Maybe it was a good thing you wrote your goodbye note, even if you had survived. "I give you, upon my knees, a thousand thanks." You smile to the man still standing on the ground below you who just nods in acknowledgment before you close the door behind yourself, Coryo's scarf still wrapped around your waist.
"Y/N?" Coryo calls out, walking into the high biology lab. He was told you had something for him, no doubt the scarf and the compact.
"She's gone." Dean Highbottom cuts in, just before Coryo spots him in the poorly lit room.
"I was told-"
"I know what you were told. Here." The Dean tells him, pointing to the metal compact on the table.
Coryo looks at it only briefly before returning his gaze to the man who offered it to him. "Where is she?"
"I wouldn't worry about that, Coriolanus. Your work is done." He explains vaguely. "Were you aware that she cheated?"
"Cheated?" Coryo asks. "How?" He feigns ignorance.
"The boys in the vents didn't die from snake venom, or violently, or, naturally- for that matter." The Dean tsk's. "It was rat poison. Which, before you argue with me, cannot be found inside the arena or even within reach of the monkey cage at the zoo. I checked. So be honest, you have no idea how she got her hands on such a substance?"
"No, I don't." Coryo lies. "But she did what she could to survive- don't take it out on her because she somehow cheated your games. Next year give them uniforms, or up security or something."
"Just thought I'd ask. She told me she got it from Plinth." He waves him off, and Coryo ticks his head in slight confusion.
"Sejanus? No, he-"
"She really... declined, in there." Highbottom cuts him off, making it evident that he at least believed that Sejanus wouldn't do such a thing. "Told me it was only salt. Genuinely, it seemed like she didn't know. Or, she forced herself to forget. A sweet girl like that, it doesn't surprise me that that's how she would rationalize her actions."
"Is she alive? Because if you killed her for that I-"
"You'll what, Mister Snow? I thought you said you just wanted the prize."
"She deserved better." He states simply, swallowing the anxiety building in his throat.
"She does. I agree." Highbottom nods. "Which is why you won't see her again."
Coryo furrows his brow. "I... I don't understand how that could be relevant."
"Oh, I know you do, Mister Snow." His superior replies, a condescending edge to his words.
Coryo snatches the compact off of the table and quickly pockets it, storming out of the room. At least he hadn't been caught for helping you cheat, though he was sure Highbottom knew better. Now, he didn't have the Plinth Prize, and he didn't have you.
When he finally got home, he couldn't help but slam the door behind himself.
"Coryo?" Tigris calls out, excited as she puts down the project she was working on and rushes to the entranceway to meet him. "I didn't expect you home so soon! Did you get to see Y/N?" Her smile fades when she sees his expression. "What's wrong?"
"They wouldn't let me see her. She's already gone." He explains, pulling off his blazer.
"Oh..." Tigris frowns, taking the blazer from him to hang it up. "I know you really wanted to say goodbye. I'm so sorry."
"She'll never forgive me." He shakes his head slightly. "If she's even still alive! I doubt they would tell me!" He laughs, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes with his palms.
"They wouldn't kill her, Coryo. People loved her too much." She is quickly reassuring, reaching out to rub his shoulders. "You did nothing wrong... You did all you could for her. She'll forgive you."
"Not that." He mutters. "It's what I told you. You didn't see the way she looked at me, Tigris. Like... Like I was a monster."
"She was already scared. She was way out of her element. I think now, that she's safe, she'll find the space to see it reasonably." She tries to soothe his worries as best she can. "You're a good friend to her, and she's a kind person. She'll understand."
"But I'll never know for sure that she does."
"You might one day... Don't beat yourself up about it, and don't give up on her."
After a long, two-day journey curled up on a bench on the train, you recognize the building the train is stopping at. Suddenly, all your energy is returned to you as it slows to a stop, and you're already waiting at the door. You hear the latch unlock and you couldn't get off fast enough.
No one you knew were there, not that you expected any kind of greeting party. You inhale the fresh air, once again surrounded by the trees and your own people. You walk out of the train station and down the street, in the general direction of your home. You tried waving at a few folks you knew on the way, but people just stared, for the most part, jaws slack with surprise. They had already grieved your death. Sometimes you were met with a sad smile, but no one wanted to speak to you. You understood. You were used to that after your time in the Capitol.
"Y/N Y/L/N, is that you?" An excited voice called after you resigned yourself to a quiet walk home, twenty minutes from the bustle of the train station. You turn your head to look up at the back entrance to the Hob, a wide smile taking over your face when you see the speaker.
Your friend is already barrelling toward you, throwing her arms around you as your eyes fill with happy tears. It was refreshing. "I never thought I'd see you again..." You sniff, resting your chin on her shoulder as you hug her back.
Rhythmically, your best friend sways you back and forth. "Oh, I know, I know, sweetheart..." She hums, rubbing your back reassuringly. You can hear her voice crack too. "But you're home now. You're okay..."
She lets you break down as she practically holds you up as you cry in each other's arms. From happiness or trauma, you're not sure. "I did some awful things, I regret it all..."
"Don't regret a thing." She shushes you. "You did what you had to."
"No, no... You don't know... You didn't see..."
"I watched, Hun. When I could." She pulls away, placing her hands on your cheeks to wipe your tears. "You did nothing wrong. All that matters is that you're home now."
You sniff again with a slight nod. "I fear too early, for my mind misgives; Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, shall bitterly begin."
"No... Y/N/N. You're safe here. You are forgiven." She assures you, rubbing your arms. "Now, let's get you home. A good rest will do you well, your parents have been waitin' on you." She waits for you to nod before stepping to your side, guiding you in the right direction with an arm around your waist.
"Thank you, Lucy Gray." You mumble, allowing yourself to lean into her hold.
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