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in-my-feels-probably · 7 months

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Hi there, hope you're doing well. I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better. Cheers!

Right Where You Left Me

Request: I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better.

Hi! I’m so sorry for the wait, it took me forever to get to this request, and even longer to finish it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump, but I feel better. I love this request, thank you so much for sending it in! I hope you enjoy it :)

(Warnings: swearing, mentions of azkaban and sirius’s treatment there, mentions of death, vague mention of nudity, let me know if i missed anything)

—

When you received the Patronus from Remus telling you Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, it brought you to your knees.

You thought about him every day. But you could only ever picture him in the days before he was arrested. It hurt too much to think about him rotting away in prison. But hearing that he got out? That he was out in the world and could be anywhere by now? The fact that he was suddenly much closer to you than you thought he would ever be again?

It terrified you.

You married Sirius right after school ended and the war was beginning to pick up. He proposed on a whim, telling you that the rest of your days weren’t guaranteed, and he didn’t want to live through another day without you tied to him. You would have always been by his side, but this was tying more than just your lives together—it was your souls. When Harry was born, you were named his godparents. All was well for a while. Calm, even. Of course, the calm didn’t last.

It wasn’t long after your marriage before that night in Godric’s Hollow came, and Sirius was taken away from you.

But it wasn’t just Sirius.

It was James, Lily, and Peter—even Mary. Marlene was in the weeks before, and Dorcas too. They were ripped away from you, far before you were ready to let them go. Remus was the only one who you kept in touch with after that night. You clung to each other in the weeks after, seeming to be the only people in the world the other could find solace in. But as the years passed, your visits and letters became few and far in between.

Then—after all that time—another Patronus came.

Sirius had come to Hogwarts, and he’d proved his innocence to those who mattered. It was Peter who had betrayed everyone, and he was still alive.

And, while Sirius had you and Remus on his side, he was still considered a fugitive. The Aurors were after him, and he needed to be kept some place safe where they wouldn’t come looking. Luckily for you, the flat you bought was outside of Wizarding London. Sirius had always loved the feeling of places untouched by magic, so after you married, you moved in together in a quiet area on the outskirts of London. It was his idea to use magic to ward it so that people looking for you would have a hard time, and after so long away from the Wizarding community, not many people would think it was worth it or even remember to come looking for Sirius in hiding with you.

After twelve years of solitude, you couldn’t fathom the idea of your husband coming back to you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of him being part of your day to day life again. All you could do to keep yourself together was tidy up and prepare for Sirius’s arrival.

You couldn’t believe it when Remus finally brought him home to you.

Your boy—who was a man now, or at least the shell of one—was sitting right in your living room. The only home he had ever known outside of Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts, and he couldn’t have looked more out of place.

Neither of you spoke when Remus eased him down onto the couch, before coming to your side. You’d always pictured that by some miracle if Sirius ever came home to you, you’d rush into his arms and he’d hold you like no time had passed. You spent years missing his touch, wishing you could hug him just one more time. But now he was right in front of you, and you had no idea how to act. You didn’t know if he even wanted you to touch him. You couldn’t take your eyes off Sirius, eyes wide as you looked him over.

Time had not been kind to him.

You could see the man you once knew bleeding through, but so much of this version of him was unknown to you. Sirius kept his eyes on the floor, but would occasionally glance up at you. You knew he was seeing a stranger, too.

“I have to go back,” Remus whispered, turning your attention to him. “They’ll know what’s happened back at Hogwarts if I don’t leave soon, and too many people know what’s happened already. I’m sorry. I’ll come back as soon as I can, yeah?”

You could hardly hear him, but you quickly nodded, giving him a squeeze. “Be careful, Remus. I’ll take care of him while you’re gone.”

“I know you will,” he murmured, squeezing you tight.

He let you go, kneeling down next to Sirius who was watching you both with a look full of anxiety. Remus placed a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, his touch light and gentle.

“I have to go, alright? But you’re safe here. I promise. It’s just Y/N.”

Just Y/N, Sirius thought. He just nodded, a conflicted look on his face. Remus stood up, giving you one last look of sympathy, before walking out the door. He left a deafening silence in his wake.

It took you forever to get your feet to move. But when you did, you were falling. You landed on your knees just in front of Sirius, peering up at him through teary eyes. You could see him take a breath, stilling as you got closer.

“Can I touch you?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Sirius swallowed hard. He gave you an almost imperceptible nod, and you gently reached your hand up, your fingertips hovering over his face. Taking a breath, you cradled his cheek in your palm. You could feel the stubble along his jaw, and the sharpness off his cheek. His skin was cool, far from the usual flush you remembered from all those years ago.

“You’re really here,” you murmured, your voice catching in your throat. “Oh, love. You’re so beautiful.”

Your words pulled a pained whimper from Sirius’s chest. He nestled his face into your hand, a few stray tears pooling in your palm. You were quick to wipe them away, leaning in close. He tilted his head down, resting his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath, taking you in.

“I pictured your face every day, and I still think I’ll never get tired of looking at you. How could I? You’re right here in front of me, as beautiful as the day I lost you. But you’ve always been the pretty one in this relationship, haven’t you?”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “In my dreams. But it’s good to see your sense of humor is still intact.”

The next few moments were quiet, nothing but the sound of sniffles and shaky breaths reaching your ears.

Finally, Sirius forced himself to look around. He’d braced himself from the moment he walked in to see all that had changed since he left. He’d expected you to move on and live your life without him, and he’d expected the flat to reflect that. It was honestly more of a shock to him when Remus told him you still lived there than anything else. But as he looked around and took everything in, he realized how wrong he had been.

“You haven’t changed a thing,” he said, looking at the art on the walls you’d picked out together when you first moved in.

You glanced around as well. You wanted to tell him how you didn’t have the heart to change anything. And although seeing him in everything around you felt like you were being stabbed, you just couldn’t get rid of anything. Getting rid of it would mean getting rid of all you had left of him.

And you would have rather been stabbed a thousand times than do that.

You shook your head, pointing to the spare room. “Actually, Remus lived here for a while. He pretty much flipped that whole room. Said something about you having too expensive a taste for him to have to endure for extended periods of time.”

“Merlin, I bet it looks like grunge threw up in there,” he mused, making you smile and nod.

You stood up, offering him your hands. “Are you hungry? We need to get you fed and cleaned up, love.”

Sirius looked down to the robes he was wearing. They were tattered—resembling rags stitched together more than they were resembling clothes. His hair was greasy and matted to his head, and his face and body was caked in dirt. He had almost forgotten just how dirty he was, a flush spreading across his cheeks as he gave you an embarrassed look.

“It’s alright, darling,” you said softly, taking his hands in yours. “We’ll take it at your pace. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Reluctantly, Sirius nodded. You smiled, gently leading him up off the sofa and into the kitchen.

—

It took ages to find him something to eat.

You nearly keeled over when he told you that pretty much the only thing he had been given to eat for the past twelve years was bread and water. It was what he’d grown accustomed to eating, and he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything else. You had to choke back tears when you finally suggested soup—one of the first things he learned to make on his own without magic. It took a while, but he managed to get most of it down.

You made small talk while he ate, telling him little things he’d missed while he was gone. You left out the most painful details. You could tell him about those later.

Finally, he couldn’t stall anymore.

He let you take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom, his eyes on the floor as you shut the door behind him.

“Shower or bath?” You asked, turning the water on to let it heat up. “A bath might be easier. You look tired, and I don’t want you falling over or something.”

Sirius just nodded, and you assumed he was alright with you choosing for him. You let the tub fill up, making sure the water wasn’t too hot before you turned the faucet off. You turned back around, frowning when you saw Sirius looking back at you with anxious eyes.

“It’s ready,” you said softly, stepping out of the way.

Sirius watched you for a moment, fidgeting back and forth on his heels. Just as you opened your mouth to speak again, he beat you to it.

“Can you turn around?” He asked, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I don’t mind if you stay, but could you…could you maybe turn around for this part?”

You quickly nodded, stepping towards the door. “Of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted me in here—”

He was quick to speak, his voice shaky. “I do! But this is just a little weird, you know?”

You nodded, backing up to the doorway and turning to face it. You could feel the heat creep up to your cheeks as you heard his clothes hit the floor, followed by the sound of him climbing into the tub. You had seen Sirius naked a thousand times before. He was never ashamed of his body, he never shied away, and you had seen plenty of him in your years of knowing him. This version of him made your chest tighten, and all you could do was stand there and hope he wasn’t feeling the emotions you were. You waited another moment before talking over your shoulder.

“Do you need anything, love? I’ll wait outside if you want me to. Unless you want me here. I’m happy to do whatever you want, it’s up to you.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “Uh…could you maybe help me? My hair is matted and I don’t think I can fix it on my own.”

There was probably a spell you could have used—some sort of detangling charm to help get the mats out. But Sirius had gotten used to not being able to use magic, and you didn’t feel like using it either. The truth was, you preferred it this way.

It was an excuse to get close to him again and spend time with him.

It was an excuse to take care of him.

You nodded, turning around to grab your brush. You kept your eyes on his as you sat down on the edge of the tub, trying your best not to let your eyes wander. You set your brush on your knees, reaching for a cup off the ledge of the tub to dip down into the water and fill up.

“Tilt your head back for me, love,” you directed, smoothing your hand over his hairline as he tipped back far enough for you to pour the water over his hair.

You repeated the process a few more times before setting the cup down and grabbing the conditioner. You smoothed it through his hair, gently tugging at the knots with your fingers before you grabbed your brush. It was silent while you worked, making slow but steady progress. Eventually, Sirius shifted, and the water sloshed just over the side of the tub.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking over his shoulder with guilty eyes to see if he splashed you.

“Don’t be,” you replied quickly, smoothing a comforting hand across his shoulder before moving back up to his hair. “Are you alright? Getting cold?”

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, before deciding against it and closing it. He just shook his head, growing silent once more. You knew there was something he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t want to push him. But you hadn’t made much progress with his hair, and you didn’t fancy sitting in silence for the rest of the evening.

You set your brush down, gently smoothing your palm over his hair. “Sirius…you can tell me anything. You know that, right? I know this feels strange, but it’s still me you’re talking to. Alright? It’s me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”

There was another splash as he shifted, twisting around to face you. He was going to say that he’d tell you another time, and that he didn’t have it in him to say it just yet.

But then he looked into your eyes.

And you were looking at him with such sincerity and warmth that he couldn’t help but spill. You watched his eyes fill with tears, and you quickly reached for his hand which he gladly let you take.

“I saw Harry,” he finally choked out.

You felt your breath catch in your chest. A deep sorrow spread through you, filling your gut with dread. You could feel your own tears stinging behind your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. It wasn’t the time for them.

“He looks just like them, doesn’t he?” You breathed, squeezing Sirius’s hand. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Remus promised he’d say hello for me once he got to Hogwarts.”

“He knows who you are?” Sirius asked, his voice full of surprise.

“Dumbledore wouldn’t tell me where he was when they came for him. The bastard said I was “in no shape” to look after him, and it was too dangerous for me to get involved. I tried so many times to get him to tell me, but I knew he had already pushed me and Remus to the back of the list as far as who could be around Harry…I didn’t even catch a glimpse of him until he was eight. Merlin, you have no idea how angry I was when I found out they had given him to Petunia and her sorry excuse for a husband.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. You could see the anger brewing inside him, watching as he took deep breaths to calm himself. But he didn’t let it out on you. He just squeezed your hand, tightening his grip.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Did you try and go get him?”

“Dumbledore threatened to have my magic taken away if I didn’t leave the matter be. He didn’t tell me anything about Harry or where he was kept hidden away. He just brought me a picture of him, and promised that when it was finally time for Harry to go to Hogwarts, he’d let me see him. Remus had to keep an eye on me till he was sure I wouldn’t do something stupid before that time came. He’d been waiting as long as me—he’s just better than me at patience, I guess.”

“You never were very good at being patient,” Sirius mused, but you could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke.

You gave him a tight lipped smile, trying your best to mean it. “Anyway, I met Harry for the first time in Diagon Alley. Dumbledore finally let me see him under the condition that it be in a public and magical place—but I wasn’t allowed to tell him about you.”

Sirius frowned, and you could feel your chest tighten. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, your eyes in your lap.

“I wanted to tell him—so badly. But Dumblefore wouldn’t let me. All I could say was that I was a friend of Harry’s parents, and that I was there to help him get ready for school. I finally told him I was his godmother last summer when I took him for school supplies again. He spent the afternoon asking me about how I knew his parents. He kept pressing for every detail about them and how I knew them, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I told him everything about James and Lily I could remember. It just about killed me—”

Your words caught in your throat, cutting you short. Sirius reached his other hand up to reach for yours, his brows furrowing in concern. You looked up, giving him a sad smile.

You swallowed, choking back tears. “He’s so like them, Sirius. He’s got James’s ridiculous hair, and Lily’s fire. I can hardly look at him without seeing her eyes staring back at me. It’s so fucking unfair.”

A pained sound was pulled from Sirius’s throat, and you stopped yourself from talking about James and Lily any further. You grabbed the brush again, burying your nose in your work as you tried to ignore the sorrow you caught in his eyes before he turned his head straight.

“Tell me about it,” you prompted, changing the subject. “Tell me about him.”

Sirius was quiet a moment, like he was trying to find the right words. “He was…beautiful.”

You smiled, nodding for him to continue as you worked the knots out of his hair.

“He’s got this little witch by his side who quite honestly scared me—”

“Hermione,” you finished for him, grinning. “She’s a wonder, isn’t she? Ron, too.”

Sirius nodded, wringing his hands. “I’m glad Harry has someone. They seem like good friends. He’ll at least have them by his side to keep him from getting into too much trouble. He’ll certainly have a better shot than we did.”

You chuckled, smoothing your hand over his hair. “Remus told me he’s doing really well. It was a big year for him, but…he’ll be alright. We’ll see to that now.”

Sirius stiffened, turning around to face you. You paused what you were doing, setting down the brush. His eyes were lowered, his voice quiet as he spoke.

“I told him he could come stay with me, at least once it was safe to and he was able. I wasn’t really thinking about where that would be. My first thought was Grimmauld Place, but I don’t think I can stomach having him there. It’s not right. But I didn’t think to ask you—”

“Sirius, love,” you interrupted, gently cupping his cheek. “This is your home. You can invite whoever you want—you don’t have to ask my permission. And Harry will always be welcome here. If it’s what he wants, he can come stay with us. It can be his home too.”

His eyes softened, and his shoulders fell as he let out a breath of relief. “Merlin, I missed you.”

You could feel yourself growing emotional again, but you refused to let it show. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak without your eyes welling with tears. You just cleared your throat as you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder.

“Tilt your head back for me again, darling,” you managed to whisper, rinsing his hair out. “Almost done. We’ll get you cleaned up so you can rest, alright?”

—

Not long after, you had Sirius clean and out of the tub, bundled up under the pile of blankets you had dragged over to your bed. He looked a bit ridiculous buried under them all, but it made you smile seeing him comfortable, and he was very happy to oblige you.

You laid next to him, under a considerably less amount of layers. “Warm enough?”

A warm laugh came from next to you as Sirius rolled over to face you. “Yeah, I think I’m all set, darling.”

You smiled, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Out of habit—one you didn’t even know you still had—you reached for his hand under the sheets. You used to always wind down every night like this, cherishing the time you had together. You never knew how much longer you’d be able to do it with the war raging on, and you both got quite used to doing this each night.

Sirius stiffened in surprise when he felt your fingers reach his, but he quickly recovered once he realized what you were doing. He let you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers.

“This bed is so soft,” he murmured, tilting his chin down to look at you. “I forgot how soft it was.”

You tried not to let your mind wander, thinking about the sleeping conditions he would have had in Azkaban. He would tell you one day about what it was like there.

Neither of you were prepared to talk about it just yet.

“Do you wanna sleep somewhere else? I could make up the couch—”

“No, love,” he said, squeezing your hand. “This is good.”

You nodded, resting your head against the pillow. Another silence fell over the room. You shuffled to get a little closer, absentmindedly tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. Sirius let out a heavy sigh, drawing your attention up to him. You waited for him to speak, lying still until he looked down and his eyes met yours. There was a pain in them you couldn’t describe.

“Did you think I did it?”

You sucked in a breath, your grip on his hand tightening. You could feel his eyes on you as you frowned, bring your joined hands up from under the sheets to rest on top of the blanket.

You had been waiting for him to ask you this.

You knew he must have spent the past decade wondering what you thought happened. He’d sat in that cell all alone, thinking his wife thought he was a cold blooded murderer who had killed her best friends.

The world thought he was a killer. Why wouldn’t you?

You dropped his hand, gently reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm against yours, a pink flush spreading. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? You didn’t know. You caressed his cheek, giving him a sad smile. You could see his eyes welling with tears.

“No,” you finally said, your voice sure. “I didn’t think it was you. I didn’t know what had happened, but I didn’t think it was you.”

Sirius let out a breath, his voice cracking. “Really?”

You swallowed hard, nodding.

“You would have died before ever hurting James—and you would have done a lot worse to save him. There wasn’t a single part of me that thought you could have killed James and Lily. I just couldn’t fathom it. There was no one in this world you loved more than them, and I knew that it couldn’t have been you. I didn’t know they had made Peter the secret keeper last minute, and I didn’t know where his body was if he was supposed to be dead, but I knew you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I think Remus knew it too…deep down. He thought I was crazy with the theories I was coming up with to try and absolve you. But he never truly blamed you—and eventually, we stopped talking about it all together. It hurt too much to keep trying to solve the mystery. It was easier to let it go.”

Fresh tears spilled, and Sirius was quick to wipe them away. Your heart ached at his kindness, even after all these years. All these years of solitude when you had left him behind, and yet, he was the one consoling you.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, composing yourself the best you could. “I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to get you back. I’m so sorry you had to suffer there all those years while I got to just keep living my life. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please forgive me, Sirius.”

Sirius quickly shook his head, his palm resting against your cheek. “None of that, pretty girl. It’s not your fault—”

“But it is,” you tried to say, but he just kept shaking his head.

“Well, I don’t care—it doesn’t matter…I don’t blame you. I never blamed you, darling. So stop blaming yourself. I’m sure you’ve spent long enough doing that, and I won’t watch you torture yourself. Don’t you think we’ve both been through enough torture?”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. He was so strong. It shocked you, just how strong he was. He had been through so much, and yet he still carried himself like the man you knew. He still let other people lean on him even when it should have been him doing the leaning. It was remarkable, really.

“Since when did you get so wise?” You asked, and you had mustered a grin that made him smile too. “Where’s the stubborn man I once knew?”

Sirius shrugged. “He’s still in here somewhere. Just needs a little practice. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll meet him again soon.”

You scoffed, breathing out a laugh. “That’s alright. I kinda missed him.”

Sirius chuckled, and your smile widened. This felt easy—this was good. You were so worried that, after all this time, you wouldn’t know how to act around each other. You were so afraid that Sirius would walk around the flat like a ghost of the man who once called it home. But he didn’t. It only took him a few hours to start cracking jokes, brushing his fingers against yours.

It wasn’t perfect—neither of you expected it to be.

But it gave you hope. Sirius was going to be okay. You both were going to be okay. And you’d get there together.

—

A/N - Hi! Again, I'm so sorry for the wait. I honestly don’t love the outcome of this, but I figured I’d finish it anyways. I loved this request, and I just kept coming back to it and adding it. Hopefully this is what you were looking for, sorry if it’s shit. Thanks for the request :)

#sirius black #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #the marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #right where you left me #taylor swift #folklore

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breakbleheavens · 9 months

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TAYLOR SWIFT and AARON DESSNER perform RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME for the first time ▸ The Eras Tour — Santa Clara, California (Night 1) | July 28, 2023

#tswiftedit #taylorswiftedit #tswiftgif #taylor swift #aaron dessner #the eras tour #eras tour #evermore #right where you left me #*mine #*2023 #*gifs #mine: eras tour #mine: evermore #i'm the girl who's 23 inside her fantasy and lives in delusion why thank you taylor ! aslkdfjah #1k

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hazel-tv · 1 year

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guys did you know...

friends break up

friends get married

strangers get born

strangers get buried

trends change

rumours fly

matches burn

pages turn

wages earned

lessons learned

but me? it's been 2 years and I'm right where you left me.

#right where you left me #evermore #taylor swift #midnights #evermore anniversary

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lily-chen-supremacy · 1 year

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holy trinity

#taylor swift #call it what you want #ciwyw #rep #rep tv #right where you left me #rwylm #evermore #you’re on your own kid #yoyok #midnights #zara’s bs #it’s tay tay time

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suburbanlegnd · 1 year

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right where you left me by taylor swift x the wedding dress by frederick elwell

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folklouire · 2 months

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Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

right where you left me Taylor Swift & Aaron Dessner | The Eras Tour - July 28th, 2023 (x)

#taylor swift #tswiftedit #tscreators #networkthirteen #dailyswiftgifs #folklouireedits #right where you left me #rwylm #evermore #aaron dessner #the eras tour #haha......look at that......#23! 🥳...................lol

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midnightspunisher · 6 months

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when taylor swift said "and the only way back to my dignity was to turn into a shrouded mystery" and when she said "but if he's a ghost then i can be a phantom" and when she said "nobody physically saw me for a year" and when she said "i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost" and when she said "you know i didn't want to have to haunt you but what a ghostly scene" and when she said "help i'm still at the restaurant, still sitting in a corner i haunt" and when she said "when she stood, she stood with a desolate knowingness" and when she said "i knew you'd haunt all of my 'what-ifs'" and when she said "i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted"

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archivedsmile · 10 months

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#right where you left me #taylorswift #taylor swift lyrics #taylornation #evermore #collageart #digitalcollage #digitaldiary #collageartwork #diary #digitalart #digitalillustration #collageartist #journalinspiration

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ourstaturestouchtheskies · 3 months

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Evening at Café Bauer – Lesser Ury // right where you left me – Taylor Swift

#lesser ury #right where you left me #rwylm #ts evermore #taylor swift evermore #evermore ts #evermore album #evermore taylor swift #evermore #taylor swift #tswiftlyrics #tswiftedit #ts edit #art #art history #lyrics #lyric art

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natlovesls2 · 3 months

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Right Where You Left Me

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Warning: no use of y/n, swearing, some angst, all images used are not mine and are from pinterest, possible grammatical errors, mentions of blood once or twice, randomly changes pov, brief mention of mental illness (and the slight misunderstanding it/ disregarding it), I'm American (I think that should be a warning 🤷‍♀️ ), a little rushed, there might be more that I missed, feel free to correct me

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Lando living in the past or literally Taylor Swifts RWYLM

Quick note: italics are flashbacks and normal font is present time

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Lando sat on the bar stool at the restaurant you both had frequented during the relationship, a place of sentimental value. He stared at the table where it had all happened– where your relationship had started and where it had ended. The table next to the window that overlooked the bustling streets, where on that rainy day he had mustered all his courage and asked you to be his girlfriend. The small table that barely fit both of your food and was often uncomfortable to fit at. The table with the mix-match chairs because the original were old and Lando had broken one of the chairs on your first date. The same table that he continued to seek out despite its lack of hope.

He looked up from his menu and stared at you, admiring how your face filled with concentration and indecision despite frequently eating there. You would sit there staring at the menu for minutes, occasionally asking for his opinion on what to order, asking the waitress for more time when she approached to take your order. It was the same routine every time the two of you went out, he knew you would eventually sigh and order some type of pasta.

“Okay, okay– I’ll just get the soup of the day,” you said, catching him off guard. He quickly looked up from his own menu, brows furrowed in confusion at your choice of food.

“Soup?” he asked, tilting his head as he asked, watching as you nodded and looked at the window being hit by a steady stream of rain.

“It’s cold outside,” you said with a shrug and a soft smile that reminded Lando of all the reasons he had fallen for you. He watched as you smiled at the elderly couple beside you and the way you quickly stood up to help the man when he dropped his silverware.

“How long have you been married for?” you asked the couple as you placed the silverwave back on their table. The dinner went on with you occasionally making conversation with the elderly couple, smiling widely at them. You would turn to Lando a few times, whispering about wanting to be exactly like them when you both got older.

“Marry her, don’t let her get away,” the older man said to Lando, patting him on the back as he and his wife left, causing Lando to chuckle.

“He’s not wrong… I shouldn’t let you go,” he said, nervously playing with the food on his plate. There was silence– not an awkward unmanageable silence but the thoughtful, yet comforting type. He glanced up from the table, noticing your small smile and it gave him enough courage to finally ask; “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say… umm– will you be my girlfriend?” he whispered, quickly averting his gaze back to his plate.

“If you’re not joking right now, I would love to be your girlfriend.”

The couple that approached the table and sat there brought him back to his senses, forcing him to turn away, reminding him that the table and its memories no longer belonged to him. The table had been snatched from him, you had taken it and destroyed every last bit of it. Using its worn wood to make a boat which you had used to sail away from his life– metaphorically of course.

He supposes he doesn’t know the exact point in which the relationship started to deteriorate. One moment you both seemed to be hopelessly in love with one another, and the next you were distancing yourself from Lando and your shared friendships– playing it off as being busy focused on your work and studies. He could still somehow vividly remember the day you left– still feeling the weight of the night suffocating him.

“Let’s just go and have dinner, if you still feel bad we could leave early,” Lando whispered as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head against your back.

The drive to the restaurant was silent– the type of silence that made anyone feel uneasy. The type of silence that would push you to nervously pick at the skin around your nails until it bled.

“Do you want me to order for you?” Lando asked, looking up from his menu to see you staring down at your hands as you continued to quickly and nervously pick at your skin. “Hey are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine– you wouldn’t mind ordering for me would you?” you asked him, your voice sounding distant and void of emotion as you finally noticed the small pricks of blood– carelessly wiping it off on your jeans.

“I don’t mind at all… are you sure you’re okay?”

“I think we should break up,” you impulsively said, nervously running your hands along your thighs in order to stop the urge to continue to pick at your skin.

“If this is because of your… issues then we can work through it together. You don't have to struggle alone,” he whispered, desperately attempting to save the relationship, which he thought was stronger than ever.

“That's not what this is about, Lando–”

“Then what is it? Because I don't see why we have to break up. I love you and I thought you felt the same way.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Then what do you expect me to do? I’m not going to sit back and watch you destroy this because you’re going through a mood” he reaches over the table to grab your hands in his own, as an attempt to calm you.

“I don’t… I don’t find joy in this anymore– it has nothing to do with my mental health. We aren’t the people we were when we first got together, Lando. I want more than this– I know I want more than this” you responded, moving your hands out of his own.

“And I can’t give you more?”

“I’m sorry” you abruptly stood from your chair, walking out of the restaurant. Lando stayed there for what felt like an eternity, body frozen with shock and slight embarrassment.

He felt the eyes of their waiter, who you had become rather close with over the years, sympathetic eyes that made contact with his own as he attempted to keep himself together.

“Haven’t seen you here in a while, you want the usual or something new?” Alex, the waiter who had witnessed the whole relationship, asked.

“You still remember my order?”

“Of course I do,” Alex let out a small laugh, “You and… you practically lived here before you stopped coming.”

“Yeah, I guess I did. I’ll take the usual then” Lando turned to look at the table once more, envying the happy couple that now claimed the weathered table as their own.

“I don't mean to overstep but I’ve seen her come with some guy. I think it's time for you to move on– I mean, clearly she has”

Lando nodded, slowly turning away from the table watching as Alex sadly smiled at him before walking towards the kitchen. You had been here with another man– moved on, as Alex had put it. He struggled to look straight ahead, the table in some weird way had a sort of magnetic pull on him. It urged him to take one final look at it– it wanted to taunt him with what ifs and happy painful memories. The sound of cheers finally pushed him to turn towards the table once more. Watching as the couple that sat there promised to marry one another– the table had issued one final blow. A reminder to Lando that you would never want that with him, he would never be able to promise himself to you at that damned table– it now belonged to someone else.

He supposed it never really belonged to him to begin with. He had been stupid to think that a table would be the glue that would forever hold your relationship together. Of course, he would be lying if he said he didn't still love you or yearn for your affection. If you ever thought you were wrong about your decision that night, he would take you back in an instant. But as he sat there in the suffocatingly happy atmosphere, he couldn't help but think that perhaps the table wasn’t as important as he had thought it to be. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to move on– to start over.

“Hey,” said a voice from beside him.

He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face as he turned to look at the source of the soft voice, “Hey.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 au #right where you left me

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goldsbitch · 3 months

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Could we dance in the past?

part 2 to I gave so many signs

summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

right where you left me - Taylor Swift Before love came to kill us - Jessie Reyes

warning: Present time, the past....alcohol and typos

Charles did all he could to appear normal and not give away that he was shaking on the inside. He was used to masking his true feelings, can't let other drivers know you're nervous, ever. Years of training and overused trick with digging his nails to his palm paid back. His latest girlfriend didn't seem to notice.

Life's good and I'm gettin' paid, mm But I think about you everyday, oh no (still) When I miss you I medicate (pour up drink, drink)

They went home earlier than planned, but Charles could not spend another minute locked up in the same space as Y/N without acting out or worse - getting up to talk to her. It was surprising that his lame excuse worked and hadn't caused any alarms with his girlfriend. He tried his best to look chill, laughed at the jokes he would have, listened attentively, contributed to the conversation, kissed his so called love on the cheek and took her home, where he made her feel good, as he normally would. Only once she fell asleep, only when he was really sure of that, he allowed his mind to roam free. He had to get up and leave the bed their currently shared. If he had been a smoker, this would be the moment to drag out half of pack. In the end, he opted for a glass of his favorite drink, or at least something that would resemble that. As he sipped his faux Moscow mule, he cursed the day Y/N showed him this drink.

For a moment at least I know You were mine and it was beautiful

"Ok, ok, listen, listen Charles," Y/N insisted, waiving her drunker finger around with a drunken sassy demeanor. "Yes, mon chéri," he replied, so alcohol flowing through his system one could be surprised he was still lucid. "I absolutely hate this...this thing," she pointed to the contents of her glass. "Oh, come on! You can't leave me alone in this celebration!" he moaned like a little baby. It was right after one of his biggest achievements in racing yet, but he was just too young to celebrate publicly, so there they were, two teenagers discovering the limits of alcohol in Y/N's empty apartment. Charles was over the moon when he found out that her parents were out of town, already being high on the post race hormones. Sometimes the starts just align. "I'm not going to leave you alone, you're stuck with me. But! We have to stop pretending like this tastes good," she nearly threw her fancy glass containing her dad's whiskey. "I mean, it is absolutely horrible," Charles admitted and made Y/N laugh. One of his favorite things. He got closer to her, one narrow kitchen counter parting them. "So what will we do?" "Let's get creative," she exclaimed and started to google around and sent Charles over to the fridge for a variety of ingredients that did not go together in any situation. "We need to find our signature drink. I want to walk over somewhere one day and be like...one martini, dry," she played a parody of her older self. "Yeah, you're right. Because the whiskey is definitely not it," he agreed and spit the rest of his out. "That's like few hundred euros you spit there, buddy," she whispered. Charles's eyes went wide and immediately started to apologize and offering to pay back. He was not amused when she laughed at him and brought it up when he went to the toilet, saying that he did not have to pay for the toilet paper. When he came back from the bathroom, he managed to bump right into Y/N, who though that the best thing to do was to jump at him from a corner. This resulted in her spilling her Moscow mule on both of them. Charles found it funny at first and took it as a great opportunity to take his shirt off, with a little hope that it might actually impress her a bit. He had worked out a lot lately. This had totally backfired the minute he noticed that Y/N was also soaking wet. He had already noticed earlier that she was not wearing a bra and tried not to imagine what she would have looked like without her loose t-shirt. His imagination could have gone on vacation now, her nipples were poking through and the t-shirt hugged the shape of her breasts tightly. Once again, as he had been times before with this girl, he was speechless and frozen. The internal battle being that he wanted to be as respectful as one could be, but his dreams were also becoming real right before his teenage eyes. She seemed to be drunk enough not to take care. He peaked several times and cursed himself when he heard the diplomatic words coming out of his mouth, informing Y/N of her situation. She thanked him dearly and covered herself by wearing his hoodie. This image made Charles's situation ten times worse, especially when he saw the little blush on her cheek. For a moment he imagined that she was his and only his. Took him two years before he washed that hoodie again.

But I wanna hold ya Like it's June in the west end Back when you were my best friend Before love came to kill us

It was always hard, seeing Y/N. He thought with time and age it would get easier, but all those talks about talk about time healing wounds did not align with his experience. He somehow got over it, had several girlfriends after her and discovered he really was the relationship type. But she just shined in colors brighter than anyone else. They understood each other. Charles was aware of that when he was young, but underestimated the rarity of that kind of a connection. Years had passed - and it didn't seem to matter.

Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me

He loved his girlfriend. He must have. The note was there simply in case she woke up when he was on his fake midnight jog. Occasional midnight run was something he did from time to time, so it was not suspicious. To sell it properly, just in case, he put on his running shoes and a hoodie. Strangely similar one to the one he gave Y/N that one Moscow mule night.

She must have stopped going to their usual café spot. It had been weeks since they talked, Charles took the events that happened at her prom to heart and decided that it was time for him to get over his best friend. He was sure you'd be friends again, sooner rather than later, but he needed some time to process. Or at least he thought, this was all very new to him, nobody to talk to about it and nowhere to get some decent advice. But that was what all the songs he blasted for hours on end seemed to agree on, so he tried that. No contact. He caught himself taking the roads that lead pass the spots he knew you might be, whenever he was back home. His body playing tricks on him. He always peaked into the café window - what if... After sometime, the realization that Y/N had stopped coming there hit him hard. Suddenly, the possibility of you two never talking again started to look a little too realistic. No word from her, which was odd. She would always be the one to bombard Charles no matter how bad it got.

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "What a sad sight"

And with days adding up to their friendship hiatus, he started to literally occupy that café, way more that when the pair hung out there together. There were only two waiters there changing their shifts back and forth. What Charles didn't know was that they put a bet on how long it would take for the girl that used to accompany the young man, whom they'd known by his name at that point, to come back with him one day. Young love, they used to reminisce of their own first heartbreak whenever he left the door.

They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared Right where you left me

He imagined this is what it felt like to have an heart attack. She finally sent him a message. And with that one text, he threw away all the work he tried to accomplish by keeping his distance and ended up right back where he started. Madly in love.

It's gettin' late And I should go

He knew he shouldn't have. Was old enough to know better this time. Understood that it was all super toxic for him and that he was in a much better place now. Oh, and then there was the fact that he had a girl back in his apartment. And it wasn't Y/N. But still, he casually jogged right back to the bar they'd left not even two hours ago. Surely, she'd be gone by now. He'd just check it out, have one last Moscow mule of the night and call it a day. That would have worked just fine. Hadn't it been for Y/N, standing alone in front of the bar entrance. Charles saw her getting shocked the moment she noticed him and dropping her cigarette. He slowed down and stared back at her. As if to make clear that him being here was not an accident this time. And also to finally look at her gorgeous, now adult, face without having to hide it.

So under the mask of the moon Could we dance in the past? Before love Before love came to kill us

part 3

#song fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x female reader #ferrari f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #chalres leclerc fluff #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x y/n #taylor swift #jessie reyes #right where you left me #before love came to kill us

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