suethh

[suethh]

My Lady Jane

[suethh]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.

A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.

Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.

Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.

With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.

There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.

Cereal it would have to be.

You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.

The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.

Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.

You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.

You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.

Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.

Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.

Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.

It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.

It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.

The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.

It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.

If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.

That was until the next morning came.

It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.

He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.

And then he remembers that he’s not alone.

Oh...

And then he wishes that he was.

Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.

Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.

This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.

Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.

Shit shit shit.

The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.

“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.

“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.

“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.

His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.

His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.

A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.

The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.

Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.

---

More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.

After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.

"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"

“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.

"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"

You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.

“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"

He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.

And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.

"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.

He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.

“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.

And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.

"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.

"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"

God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.

It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.

Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.

"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.

It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.

His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.

"What?"

"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.

"You want me to get naked for you?"

You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.

"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”

The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.

What the hell am I doing?

Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.

"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.

Oh my god is this really happening?

“...Yeah?”

"You're going to undress me"

---

Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.

[suethh]

FIND LANDO ★ LN4

pairing: lando norris x gf! reader ( she/her )

summary: As a WAG, you are known for helping fans meet lando, so when a kid in full mclaren gear is in the paddock, you know what you must do.

or this request

notes: i still don’t get over the P2. i missed his champagne celebrations so so much !!

yourusername’s insta story

ln4fanclub

8,625 Likes

ln4fanclub Mini fan on Mclaren gear today at Silverstone! 🧡

view all comments

livelaughlando that’s so iconic

piastri444 I WANT A MINI SUIT TOO 😭😭

thelewiscloset we need lando to meet mini him

norrizf1 @ yourusername please my queen do your magic

loverofcarzz YES @ yourusername

yourusername’s insta story

mclaren’s insta story

mclaren

Liked by yourusername, landonorris and 326,851 others

mclaren We found Lando and he met his twin! 🥹🧡

#F1 #BritishGP

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yourusername admin i LOVE YOU

yourusername Mission accomplished ✅

mclaren Our queen 👏👏

landonorris This kid made my day

yourusername you’re WELCOME

landonorris also i’m scared of y/n someone save me

mclaren Nono, she has permission to lecture you

landonorris betrayed by my own team 😔💔

yourusername say bye to your seat, lando

roscoelovescoco

Liked by yourusername and 188,255 others

roscoelovescoco Nice meeting's ya @ landonorris

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yourusername Roscoe this is HILARIOUS BAHAHAH

landonorris destroyed by LH’s dog. what is my life?

yourusername first of all, is ROSCOE HAMILTON not “LH’s dog” get it right

yourusername second, you deserve it

yourusername third, i love u

landonorris i love u too 🙄🙄

[suethh]

“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨” 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Pairing: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader (she/her), Max Fewtrell x reader

Summary: Reader and Lando share a sweet moment on stream, that the fans absolutely crumble over.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 600+

A/N: I'm not really sure about this one, so let me know what you think!

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

It was currently late on a Saturday night, and you were in the living room of Max's apartment, him and your boyfriend Lando on stream in the next room. You didn't mind at all though, as you and Lando hadn't been back home in the UK for a while, and you two had spent the day with your friends yesterday. You currently held a copy of Before the coffee gets cold in your hands, as you were finally coming to the last few pages of the book. A blanket lay over your legs, the only noise apparent coming from the TV playing at a low volume, and the muffled talking and laughs of Lando and Max from the next room.

You and Lando didn't have a secret relationship, but more of a private one. You came to any grand prix that you could, supporting him as much as possible whilst still working your own job, but didn't feel the need to put your relationship all over the internet. You appeared a lot on Lando's jgp account, which the fans absolutely adored, but that was the majority of which you were seen on social media, your own account being private.

So when it came to twitch streams, you preferred to stay out of the way and leave Lando and Max to it.

You just came to the last line of your book, and placed it at your side, taking a sip of the tea Lando had made you earlier. You put the mug back onto the side table, and tilted your head over the back of the sofa to look almost longingly to the door of which your boyfriend was. You wouldn't admit it, seeing that it has only been about 30 minutes, but you miss his touch. But you knew you didn't really want to be seen on the stream, so decided to leave it and just wait a little.

10 minutes passed, and you had decided that you were just going to have to pluck up the courage to appear on camera if you wanted your boyfriend. You got up from the sofa, put your now empty mug in the sink, and walked to the door, slowly pulling the handle down.

The boys stopped mid conversation to peer over at the door, just as you peeked your head round to see if you were in shot of the camera.

"You okay baby?" Lando asks, a smile playing at his lips.

"Yeah I just got bored" you reply with a chuckle, walking into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Come here" He says, also with a chuckle, beckoning you over as he shuffles back in his chair, an arm held out towards you. You walk over to him, putting your hand in his, him softly pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your head naturally falls onto his shoulder, your face away from the stream as you shut your eyes, Lando's arms almost instinctively wrapping around your waist in an instance. Lando looks round at you, kissing your cheek before turning back to the stream. For a few minutes, him and Max carried on chatting, Lando absentmindedly dipping his hand underneath your top to trace random shapes on the bare skin of your lower back.

"Mate the chats going mad over you two" Max says with a chuckle, turning his head to look to Lando.

"What" Lando laughs, shuffling closer to the chat screen on the chair, you lift your head up to also look.

Pretty much every single chat that popped up was about how adorable they found the interaction between you and Lando, though you struggled to read each one fully as they just kept flooding through. All you both did was laugh, Lando and you looking at each other, giving him the chance to place a soft and gentle kiss to your lips, which you happily reciprocated.

[suethh]

We’re Not Private, She’s Just Shy - LN (Shy Series)

Summary: Unlike Lando, his girlfriend only has a big personality when they’re alone or at least with people who she knows well. But his fans and the media think that they’re trying to hide the relationship and keep it as private as possible.

Gonna make this a series - as requested I've written about how they met

Extrovert Meets Introvert

Lando’s big personality attracted y/n to him and her significantly more reserved personality piqued his interest to know her more. He learned a lot more and realised that once he passed that barrier, she’s a a very needy weirdo. But she’s shy so he’s only of few who are fortunate enough to learn about her weird side and he loves every second of it.

For the f1 driver, there’s no point in trying to hide her as his girlfriend. The media and fans always find out, they’ll do investigative stalking to find her. So he has never bothered to keep her from the media.

However, recently everyone has been assuming that they’re making extraordinary efforts to keep her hidden or that they’ve already broken up.

Given the relationship is actually going onto the 6 month milestone, the media and fans only caught onto the relationship a little over a month ago. But she’s been in and around the paddock since the first month and she’s been in with the McLaren team and in the garage watching races that whole time.

She does kind of keep her distance from him going around the paddock, not wanting any attention from his fans or anyone else who might jump at the opportunity of speaking to her because she’s next to her.

But eventually Lando is on a stream for Quadrant with Max and some of the subscribers are completely obsessed with y/n who is actually asleep just out of the frame of the camera.

“You might as well answer them, we can all see the questions irritating you.” Max comments earning a groan since Max has read out every question he’s found. He always likes to tease Lando in general but obviously teasing him about the girl that he is so protective over just makes for him to be such an easy target.

“Guys, listen. Y/n and I are not trying to be private. She’s just shy. Like the shyest person I’ve ever met.” Lando stresses while actually gesturing over to the sleeping young woman. “So she likes to stay out of the spotlight that comes with dating me by any means necessary. Max is just choosing to be a twat by not saying all this and being honest about it.”

“Because I think they should hear it from you. You are the one in the relationship after all.” Max argues while Lando notices y/n wake up, probably from the sound of distress in her boyfriend’s voice. “Lando?”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Lando states pulling his phones off but not nudging his mic away. “Come here.”

“You’re streaming.”

“That’s ok.” Lando smiles lightly, reassuring her softly while holding his hand out for her to take which she looks at with a pouted lip. “Everyone wants to see you anyway. Come on.”

He manages to pull her over into his lap as he hugs her and immediately her face is a bright red as she tries to hide her face behind the hood of the stolen McLaren hoodie.

“See guys, she’s just incredibly shy and if she wasn’t so shy she’d probably be whining at me about doing this.” Lando grins while reaching his head around to kiss her cheek and actually feeling the radiating burn of her face. “Isn’t she pretty though?”

“Stop.” Y/n murmurs too quiet for the mic to even pick up while Lando smiles holding her more tightly to himself when she tries to get up.

“Baby they think you’re trying to hide from them. I’m just trying to make them see we’re not hiding anything you’re just my shy girl.” Lando states while gently pushing her hair back from where she’s trying to hide behind it. “Alright, I’m not going to torture you anymore. You can go if you want, I won’t be long on here for too much longer.”

Y/n seems to grow some courage leaning forward to kiss him before unsurprisingly nearly rocketing off of him and going back to sitting out of frame. Lando smiles at her before he begins to finish the game with Max and then log off.

-

After confirming that they’re not trying to be private and don’t care about the world being aware of the relationship. Media and fans alike felt that they had a green light to ask all about the couple, or more specifically be a bit more invasive with Lando about the relationship.

“Lando, is your girlfriend here for the race?” A young woman asks when they’re on the stage as part of the Thursday media.

“She is, but good luck finding her. She can disguise and hide herself incredibly well, sometimes I even have to call her so I can find where she’s put herself.” Lando admits while the crowd laugh and Oscar nods to confirm it.

“I can confirm, I’ve watched Lando panic when he hasn’t been able to find her and usually she’s actually really close by.” Oscar states earning a grin from Lando.

“So she’s really that shy?” The interviewer asks making Lando nod. “How on earth did you end up together?”

“She was a friend of a friend, we went to a birthday party and I spotted her. It sounds really bad when I say I had to chase her and practically corner her, but I promise it was just her shyness. She loves me now, but she was just scared because I have quite a loud personality and for her that was quite intimidating. Plus I think she secretly had a crush on me that she didn’t want to pursue because of the attention she’d get.”

“It can be quite intense, tell you what we’ll redirect attention onto racing.”

After the interview, Lando spends a while signing things for fans and doing some more media before he asks the McLaren comms assistant if they know where y/n has disappeared to. As part of keeping Lando focused and not panicked over her, the McLaren team always keep an eye on her whereabouts sot hey can always let Lando know.

“She’s in the unit getting something to eat. We can go there now if you want, there’s nothing on really for a couple hours.”

Lando practically ditches his teammate in favour of finding his girlfriend and when he finds her she’s sitting on her own, to no one’s surprise, looking at her phone while she eats a chicken pasta dish.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Lando smiles sitting down next to her.

“Hi. How’d it go?” Y/n asks quietly while he wastes no time pulling her over onto his lap, loving the sight of her fact flushing red at the action.

“Good, everyone is asking about you now they know that we’re not keeping everything completely private.” Lando states then moving her hair to lean forward and kiss her cheek. “How’s the food?”

“Really nice, I know you think it’s like rabbit food, but I think they make the best salads.” Y/n smiles as his arm wraps around her a little more tightly. “The chicken is so good.”

Lando accepts a piece of chicken before agreeing that actually it tastes really good.

They stay like that for a bit, just wasting a bit of time with each other. Which is no-so-secretly Lando’s favourite way to spend time even when he’s got a race to prepare for. But eventually he’s called for to do some simulator runs to practice.

[suethh]

A birkin bag for Y/n - Lando Norris x Horner! Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, mentions of alcohol

summary: When Y/n‘s situationship gifts her a really expensive bag seemingly out of the blue it causes quite the talk in the paddock. Little does she know he‘s just trying to show everyone who she belongs to. (Inspired by the famous birkin bag scene in Gilmore Girls)

Lando was intrigued with you from day one. Literally from the get go. He remembers the first time he had bumped into you in the halls of his close friends home. He clearly remembers every second despite being hungover from the night before.

Your hands were jam packed with all kinds of crafting supplies that shattered on the ground, crayons spilling everywhere.

„Ah shit!“ the sleepy guy exclaimed as a small hand immediately slapped his shoulder. He looked at your face in shock. He was violently hungover from his late night celebraions with a certain three time world champion yet he had never seen such a beautiful thing.

„Shh!“ you whispered, him raising his brows questiongly „Penelope could hear you!“

Lando chuckled, as you started picking up all the crayons. He kneeled down grabbing some as well. He knew your face was somehow familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though. The freckles, the dimples and that hair.

„Babysitter?“ he asked mustering your face.

„Sort of.“ you nodded, shooting him an innocent yet friendly smile „Family friend.“

He hands you a blue crayon with a grin. You knew the grin probably made any girl weak in the knees and judging from the blonde woman you and little Penelope had watched stumble out of his room this morning while munching on your cereal, he knew as well.

„Well nice to meet you nanny.“

You cringe at the name before rolling your eyes „Nice to meet you to Lando.“

Lando had loved that. You hadn’t acted like you didnt know his name. You just didn’t care enough to pretend to ask. You smiled again before licking your lips and getting up. Hearing Penelope call your name. Y/n. What a name. He eatched you stumble away on that day, knowing he wanted to get to know you.

And he did. He learned very quickly,that you were in fact Horners daughter. Which was of course to his luck, because Christian loved him. So he showed up at family hosted events, made some apparences in the red bull motor home and before he knew it you spent the night at his.

Well it wasn‘t that easy. He had to do some convincing. But god Lando loved kissing you. He was addicted to it in fact. In every corner, whenever noone was watching his lips were on yours as he pressed you against the walls.

„Someone could see.“ you mumbled against his soft lips, slightly pressing your palms against his broad chest. Having to control youraelf from giving in.

„I don’t care.“ he chuckled his hands under your shirt rather quickly.

It was always like this. Sneaking around, yet most of the grid was aware off the little fling. But Lando had told you quite blank from day one; he didn’t do boyfriend and girlfriend. And having gotten out of a longer realitionship just months prior you were okay with that. You could do it, you thought. And it was fun for a minute. Exciting and new.

„No strings.“ you held out your little finger snd Lando rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. But he interwined his pinky with yours anyway after some hesitation. Laying on his hotelroom bed with your body next to his.

„No strings.“ he nodded. You smiled waiting for the next words before you raised your brows.

„You gotta say it.“ you exclaimed gesturing to your interwined hands.

„I don‘t want to.“ he groaned, his body pressing against yours as he was hovere above you.

„Okay.“ you nodded before turning around and crossing your arms „Then no sex.“

Lando chuckled pulling you into his body as he inhaled your scent „Fine.“

You smiled waiting to hear the words escape his lips as he pressed his lips against the crook of your neck „I pinky promise.“

Months passed like that. And it was fun for a moment. But reality eventually creeped back up. And as you were sat at brunch at your dads house back in England, having scrolled through endless pictures of Lando celebrating his podium in Silverstone the day prior. Including pictures of him with countless women. But you knew it was no fair. He could do whatever he wanted. Yet you somehow had gotten the sense that he maybe wasn’t sleeping around like that anymore. After all, you two saw eachother almost every week at least very two weeks. You just thought maybe it was heading somewhere, but clearly its wasn‘t.

It had been so easy. Life had been good. You had an internship at a sports paper back in Monaco. You were studying to be a journalist, meaning you weren’t necessairily location bound. And it allowed you to attend races. Which allowed you to see Lando. But not this race. You hsd promised Lando you‘d make it but cancelled last minute as you had to attend some stupid event in Monte Carlo. You had watched the race on the toilet, your phone in your hands the whole night. God you had been so proud once he had finished that crossing line. If only he knew how important he was to you. You think you might even have screamed a little when it was over. And of course you had immediately texted him. „Plan A babyyyy! so proud of you Lan, kisses and see you soon xx“

But there hadn‘t been any response. And seeing the pictures from the whole ordeal over the weekend you now understood why. While you had sat on the plan, still wearing your gown from the event he had been out and fooled around with lord knows who. You knew you had no right to be jealous or something. But you weren’t even jealous. You were just dissapointed, having expexted to be a little more important than that. But Lando was a player. He didn‘t do boyfriend/girlfriend.

You were so lost in your thoughts, not even having heard the front door open. Starkng at the perfectly arranged flowers your stepmom had on the wooden table. The whole house and every corner was so perfect, it made you think about how your dad really had a great woman by his side. She had made this place a home. Something it truly hadn’t been growing up there.

„Well good morning sweetheart!“ your fathers voice appeared behind you as your dad walked into the dining room where the brunch had been prepared.

Max and Kelly following behind him, having all drove out here to get some time off. The countryside the perfect place to do so. No people who‘d recognize you, not even in the little town nearby. And even if they did, they truly didn‘t care enough to bother you.

„Dad.“ you smiled getting up and hugging your father tightly, your arms wrapping stound his taller figure. Your dad quite suprised by the affectionate hug, as he held you close for some seconds; He immediately knew. From the second he saw you staring blankly at that wall just before to this desperate hug, something was wrong. He watched you greet everyone else with a somehow fake smile, including Max and Kelly who both hadn‘t seen you in some time as your job was keeping you really busy.

„What are you even doing back home?“ your dad later asked as everyone was eating.

„Well, I was suprised to to see her stumble in here this morning.“ Geri, your stepmom chuckled.

Max mustering you. He knew, he had seen the pictures. Well he had been there. Having told Lando if he was aware of the cameras on him as he was pushing his tounge down some girls throat. He even told some people to delete the photos. But people were drunk, plus Lando was famous. A deadly combination.

„What about Y/n, Lando?“

Max knew you two weren’t exactly offical. He had no idea what kind of realitionshipi it was. But he had seen you two. It was evident you both had feelings for eachother. So this was just stupid. It would hurt both of you. Especially you and Max thought of you like a little sister.

„Why should I care?“ Lando groaned sounding extremly cocky, making Max wanna puke. Lando scrunched his nose before he pushed past the dutch guy who just stood there baffled.

Now seeing your puffy eyes looking at everyone at the table. Max knew; you had seen the stupid pictures. You probably had flown out to England for Lando. And Lando had been an absolute idiot the past 24 hours.

„I wanted to suprise you.“ you whispered, lying to your dad. But your dad wasn’t stupid, he knew it probably had to do with a certain british boy who you seemingly had befriended ove the past few months. He had his concerns but you were a grown woman, he knew he shouldn’t get inbetween anything.So he just smiled before nodding „Well that’s nice. I‘m certainly surprised honey.“

The week passed quick. You spent some time with your siblings and Max and Kelly before saying your goodbyes again. Telling your dad you‘d see him in Hungary.

„Come to London please.“ You couldnt believe it. After three whole days of zero contact he had finally texted you. He didn‘t ask yet he clearly saw your instagram story showing you were back home. You wanted to text him, be mad and tell him how hurt you were. But you weren’t like this. Your weekend with your patents had made you realize you haf been raised better. Maybe you had lied to yourself. Maybe you couldn‘t do no strings attached. Maybe having standards was a good thing.

So you didn‘t respond. You told him a couple of days later; „sorry was busy, see you in hungary.“

It was the weekend before the Grand Prix you attended yet another absoluetly jam packed Gala event in Monaco. You were luckily not gonna be important next to all the stars and socialites there. So you put on some regular black dress, did your own hair and makeup before getting an uber there.

The evening was rather dull. But you‘d have to report on it for the paper next week so you had to stay for every second. You saw a couple if familiar faces, talked to some old family friends before admiring the beautiful hotel the thing was hosted at. The big chandeliers sparkling so brightly, you were bound to be mesmerized. It was then as you grabbed yet another glass of champagne when you turned around bumping into some guys chest.

„Oh. I‘m sorry!“ you exclaimed looking up at the familiar face. The blonde hair sitting ever so perfectly as the tailored suit sat on his broad shoulders. The tall guy shooting you a sly grin „You‘re fine my love dont worry.“

„Logan.“ you chuckled. Having seen the rookie a couple of times at least. But never really having spoken to him.

„Hello there.“ he waved awkwardly before induldging you in some small talk.

Logan was nice guy. Despite the internet making fun of him for his very american ways he was nice and polite. It started as nice chatters but somehow you two ended up at a corner at the empty bar, downing glass after glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the american ordered.

„So weird seeing you without Norris.“ he eventually bound up saying.

You scrunched your nose, a thing you always did but even more when you were drunk. If there was botox for that you might as well start young.

„Why is that weird?“ you giggle, your words coming out slower than usual as you kick your heels against the legs of the bar chair. Playing with the rim of your already empty champagne glass.

Logan looks down at you, seeing you nervously bounce your legs. He licks his lips, and if you weren‘t shitfaced you would have gotten the ick a long time ago. The guy was so obviously trying to flirt with you. Something you hated. Well except when Lando did it.

„Ah, I don‘t know I just thought he was your boyfriend?“

You burst out into laughter, causing some of the last people in there to look at you. Women being loud, something people clearly hated or were at least severly triggered by.

„What‘s so funny?“ Logan blushed looking around, kind of embarassed by the eyes on you. Lando would never be embarrassed. Yeah well Landos laugh was also way louder than yours.

„See…“ you catch your breath, before rolling your eyes and playfully punching his shoulder „Norris doesn’t do girlfriend boyfriend or boyfirend girfriend silly!“

Logan chuckled before his hand was placed on your upper thigh. It was like he had waited to hear that. It came so quick and at the most obvious time. The american guy leaned in towards you before whispering into your ear „You wanna head home?“

He smelled weird. No he actually smelled fine. He just didn’t smell like Lando. Lando smelled so perfect. Like your favorite smell ever.

Your heart ached for a second. This probably was good right? You had to do the whole multiple people thing. Lando was doing it. So you also had to.

„Why not?“

So you walked out the place with the blonde american. Not looking back once. Only what you didn‘t notice as you stumbled down the stairs with your heels in your hands was that, Arthur Leclerc who was Charles brother and Oscars best friend had waited for his girfriend outside when he spotted a very tipsy you get in a car with none other that Logan Sargeant.

The week passed rather quick and before you knew it you were sat on a plane towards Hungary. You were gonna arrive just in time for Qualifying. Heading straight from the airport to the paddock, having to change into a appropriate outfit at the airport toilet. Again. Low point.

It was a long taxi drive later that you made your way into the paddock, holding your recorder and noteclips. What you hadn’t known strutting, in there in your still perfectly white suit that could have used some ironing but no one’s perfect, that you actually had been the talk of the grid over the past two days.

Arthur Leclerc had a loose mouth. He had immediately texted Charles asking if Y/n Horner wasn’t involved with Lando Norris anymore. To which the older Leclerc responded that as far as he knew Lando and Y/n were somehow together all the time but not really exclusive. When Arthur dished the tea to him later the next day that he had seen you and Sargeant looking rather cozy with one another Charles immediately texted Carlos asking if there was trouble in heaven. The boys just loved gossip. And we all know who Carlos is best friends with.

On press day the ferrari driver asked his former teammate, right after getting of the panel „So Y/n’s really not as goody two shoes as we thought huh?“

Lando looked at him confused, he had just spent four days figuring what he had done to seemingly piss you off. No messages, the way you had stayed with your dad when you had promisef him to come to London. He missed you. He just couldn‘ admit that. No strings right? Plus he didn’t do boyfriend girlfriend.

„What do you mean? What about her?“

„Yeah well…“ Carlos chuckled awkwardly now spotting the very hot topic off his rumor talking to Oscar in the corner of the waiting room. Logan was showing Oscar something on his phone while the two youngest guys on the track waited for their turn to do interviews.

„Carlos, I don‘t have all day.“ Lando groaned, punching his friends shoulder „What about Y/n?“

Carlos contemplated for a second. He knew Lando was acting like he had no feelings for you but Carlos knew exactly that wasn‘t the case. He had after all been the one dragging the brit home after the silverstone afterparty. And the whole drive to the hotel the young Mclaren driver kept on talking about you and everything about you and everything about your looks and so on.

„Her eyes. Her hair, the way she scrunches her nose when shes confused.“ Lando slurred his head on Carlos lap as he was about to pass out „Y/n‘s just great. She- She is girlfriend material.“

„So Charles told me that Arthur told him. That last Saturday at some sort of Gala in Monaco, he spotted Y/n leaving with another driver…“

„What!“ Lando yelled immediately , causing everyone to look at him. Carlos hand covered his mouth, stopping him from screaming the place down. Shooting everyone an awkward smile as they continued their own thing with raised eyebrows.

„Shh!“ Carlos whispered as Lando looked at him in fury before removing the hand from his mouth.

„Don’t tell me to shush! Who the fuck did she leave with!“ he whisper yelled, and Carlos sighed. He really didn’t want any bad blood in between the grid to start because of him so he knew he couldn’t tell names:

„Well, Lando you two aren’t official so you dont really have the right to get mad at her.“ Carlos explained trying to sound reasonable. But Lando just raised his eyebrows holding up his hands clearly acting innocent as a lamb.

„Hold on! I‘m not mad at her! Im mad at whoever thinks its okay to take something that clearly belongs to me!“

Carlos chuckled. His friend sounded like a little kid in preschool who‘s toy was stolen. Guess that’s what love does to you „Lando first of all no one really knows if you two are offical or not…“

„I don‘t have to be offical with her, she‘s off limits for any other driver and they know it.“ he argues back and it actually makes so much sense in his head. Much more sense than it does to Carlos at least „If you don’t actually your car, I‘ll still never juste drive it.“

„But Y/n‘s not some bag Lando. You cant actually own her-„

„Thats it!“ Lando smiled and Carlos looked rather confused. He musters his seemingly insane friend who looked like he had just found the answer to lifes most profound question.

„What?“

„Im gonna get her a bag.“

You had just arrived at some food stand, grabbing a coffee and a bagle when a hand grabbed yours. You turned around looking up at the beautiful curly haired guy. Landos eyes looked at you as he had a huge grin on his face „Hey baby.“

„Lan.“ you stated, rather suprised by the bubbly greeting. Last time you had checked both of you were ignoring one another. But Lando didn‘t even give you any time, he put his hand on your back before guiding you towards the mclaren motorhome like he was on some sort of mission.

„What are you doing?“ you chuckled as he pulled you past security who grabbed your bagle and coffee as it was not allowed to bring food from outside. Rude. You looked Lando up and down as you followed him. He was already in race gear probably having to go on track any minute now.

The young guy didn’t say a word he just pulled you into his drivers room closing the door behind him quickly. Before he immediately smashes his lips against yours leaving you no choice but kiss him back. After a while you come to your senses as you push him off you “What‘s going on Lan?“

You missed this. But you weren’t naive, he was acting like you hadn‘t completely had zero contact over the last two weeks. Like he hadn’t ignored you for days after Silverstone. Lando pressed his lips together, his hands still on your waist. He looked like he was contemplating to say something but then shook his head.

„Baby.“ he whispered, his fingers digging into the material of your white blazer.

„Yes?“ you asked sounding rather hopeful. Maybe youw two were actually gonna talk for once.

Lando looked into your eyes before taking a deep breath „I got you something.“

He what? The brit now turned around and you looked at him dumbfounded. He walked over to the cabinet pulling out an orange paper bag. You furrowed your brows. Not understanding what on earth he was doing. He got you a present?

„Here.“ the brown haired handed you the big bag and you looked at him confused.

„It‘s not my birthday yet.“ you stated knowing your birthday was coming up soon. Maybe he had remembered wrong, wouldn’t be a suprise as he seemingly didn’t care where you had been the last two weeks.

„I know but just open it!“ he chuckled, sounding like an excited little boy. You can’t help but giggle nodding as you walk towards the table. You place the bag down pulling out an orange cotton bag. You look at Lando still lost before pulling out the inside. Holding a rathe big snd bright pink leather bag in your hand.

You scrunch your nose „A purse?“

„You dont like it?“ Lando looks panicked and you get even more confused. He sighs rubbing his face „I thought pink was your favorite color.“

„No it’s nice! Really nice!“ you admit looking at the bag „Im just confused why you got me a- a bag? I mean i know im a girl, and I love bags but why..“

„It‘s not just any bag.“ he chuckles, only now realizing you had no idea what you were holding in your hands. He forgot you actually grew up with only a father. This could be amusing.

„What is it then? A special bag?“

„Ah forget it.“ Lando shrugged it off, kissing your cheek . This maybe was actually good. If you didn’t know what the bag meant you‘d go parade it in front of everyone which was exactly what Lando wanted. This bag would surely keep anyone away „I hope you like it baby.“

„I love it Lan!“ you smiled, before tiptoeing and kissing his cheeks. In all honesty the bag was nice but you had still no idea why he‘d just gift you some purse. But you figured it was his way of aplogizing or somethingand you really had no time to discuss the matter at that moment „If you excuse me now I gotta go show everyone my new bag and you have to go race. Good luck!“

Lando couldnt believe it. His plan had sorta backfired. But in the weirdest most unexpected way. He was stunned as he watched you strutting away with your new bag in one hand as you grabbed your coffe on your way out. This could be fun.

Kelly was watching her boyfriend qualifying from the redbull garage as she noticed you walk up to her. The dark haired woman smiled talking off her headphones „Y/n!“

„Kells!“ you embraced her in a hug. You two catch up a little and you just wanna ask Kelly about Little P when her eyes fall onto the bright pink thing in your hand. Kelly raised her eyebrows staring at it“Wow does your internship suddenly pay that much?“

„What?“ you chuckled, noticing her eyes on your bag. You pull it up swinging it around a little before wiggling your eyebrows „Oh, this?“

You roll your eyes turning it around „It‘ a pretty nice bag right?“

Kelly looks at you a little stunned „Nice?“

„You dont like it?“ you ask mustering the older woman „Well you won’t believe this but Lando got me this, totally random!“

„Lando got you a birkin!“ Kelly now yelled covering her mouth in shock as everyone started to look at the two of you. It was then that your step mom appeared from the backroom, taking off her own headset. Looking at Kelly and than at you snd than the very pink bag in your hand.

„That’s what it‘s called?“ you scrunched your nose before chuckling„Its apparently a special purse.“

„Who got you this?“ Geri now asked looking utterly confused at the very beauty you were holding in your hands. She had seen her share of beautiful birkins but this was next level. You grew more confused by the second as people were suddenly hovered around you, well especially women.

„Well- Hello to you to.“ you say rolling your eyes „It‘s just a bag girls. Lando got me it and it was so weird, it was completly out of the blue!“

„Just a bag?“ Geri asked, looking at Kelly unbelievingly „Y/n thats a very nice purse!“

„Oh.“ you state, raising your eyebrows „Maybe I shouldn’t use it then?“

„Oh no, A birkin bag is meant to be used honey!“ Geri chuckled, and Kelly can’t help but laugh along still absolutely shocked„Max never got me a birkin bag.“

„Whatever.“ you now shrug not knowing how a bag could be such a big deal. The two women continue their jokes before you walk around and take off. You had work to do after all. You muster your bag one last time. A birkin bag. Whatever that was. You should probably google it later.

Talk of the bright pink birkin bag that had been gifter by the very Lando Norris spread like water. Soon everyone knew about the most expensive hermes bag being given to a certain young journalist who was parading it like she had zero idea what it was. Well, that was actually the truth. Even instagram had their fieldday seeing you enter Mclarens motorhomes with Lando and leaving it with a pink birkin.

But you were too busy to notice. You only noticed the stared from every woman passing you and the fact that even some of the drivers started whispering and pointing at you whenever you passed them.

When Carlos bumped into you and noticed the little thing in your hand he immediately wanted to slap Lando. He Couldn’t believe the young guy thad actually pulled through with the utter insane plan. He had watched the guy make five hundred calls the day prior. If he had known what kinda bag he was on the hunt for, he‘d probably tell him to forget it.

„Max!“ Carlos yelled running up to the dutch driver, Max turning around „Yes?

„Did you see what he did?“ Carlos asked completely out of breath. Max raised his eyebrows taking a sip of his water in his Red Bull bottle.

„Who did what?“ Max asked, looking at the spanish ferrari driver.

„Lando.“ he stated and Max ju shrugged his shoulders, completely oblivious to the gossip that had been circulating all day„He bought her a birkin bag!“

„Who?“

„Y/n!“

„That little sly fuck!“ Max cussed, not actually believing what he was hearing. Everyone knew what gifting a birkin to a woman means. It‘s like putting a lock on her. It could be only described as some sort of pre proposal, letting every guy know: she is in fact off limits and you better back off.

„He couldnt ask her out normally huh?“ Max laughed shaking his head, grinning at the thought of the young brit.

„No. It‘s Lando. Typical Lando.“

On race day you decided you had enough for once and for all from the stares shot your way every second you walked through the paddock. The bag was pretty yes, but people were surely acting like it was a god. You walked into the redbulm garage approaching Kelly who was stood there with Max and your dad.

„Guys!“ they all stared at you as you looked at them in frustration.

„What the hell is the deal with this stupid purse!“ you held up the thing once again and your dad looked at you suprised while Max chuckles. There‘s a moment of silence before your father crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows.

„It‘s hideous?“ Christian asked. Max and Kelly looking at both of you stunned.

„Dad!“ you punched him with the bag as he laughed like an evil witch. He always made fun of your clothes so this wasn’t personal.

„Y/n!“ Kelly yells before the panicked women reaches out to garv the bag out of you hands like it was a child in need. She wrapped her arms around it protectively looking at you in fury. Meanwhile you look at her like she’s the one that’s lost her mind and so does your dad.

„What the-„

„Okay Christian.“ Max took a deep breath, looking at Kelly who was looking at him in desperation. Silently begging him to put an end to her misery of watching you treat a birkin like that„You may wanna take a seat for this.“

„Bullocks.“ Christian chuckled raising his eyebrows as you looked at Max confused. What was everyone’s problem?

„Well, this bag.“ Max ponited at the thing in Kellys hand and you looked at him exceptingly „It’s a birkin bag. And Lando gave it to you? Right Y/n?“

You slowly nodded, your dad already confused on why Lando would even buy you a bag in the first place. You weren’t that serious, right?

„Well its a forty thousand dollar bag. At least.“ Kelly now stated.

You felt like your heart stopped beating „A what?“

„Why?“ your dad now looks at you putting two and two together „Why does Norris gift you a forty thousand dollar bag Y/n?“

„I- Uhm.“

„I don’t know?“ you lied, before going to grab the bag from Kelly’s hand. Your dad throwing daggers at you. Realizing his daughter actually isn’t as innocent as she seems. You grin awkwardly „If you excuse me now. I gotta go!“

You wahtched the race from the stands, figuring you‘d be safest there as you tried to grasp the sheer fact that Lando had actually bought you a bag that cost more than all your other bags combined. And god you didn’t even say thank you really. But you also truly didn’t understand why he‘d do something so insane. This was serious. You don‘t gift bags like this to your situationship. After a long day you finally headed back to the hotel. Texting Lando to come to your room to talk on your way there.

You were getting ready to out to dinner with your family when a knock appeared at your door. In nothing but yout bathrobe you went to open the door expecting it to be Lando only to be met with a certain american guy lean against your doorframe „Howdy.“

„Logan.“ your eyes were wide open as he looked you up and down with a sly grin.

„Greetings.“ god he was unbarebale when not drunk. You look at the taller guy an awkward grin plastered on your lips.

„What do you want?“ you asked and you knew it sounded quite rude. But you quite honestly didn’t care because Lando could show up any second and you didn’t exactly want him to find you here with Logan.

„I wanna talk.“ He speaks as he pushes past you. You watch him enter your room. Well he was persistent.

„Well, now really is a bad time.“ you stated gesturing to your soaking wet hair and bathrobe. He really had to leave.

„How so?“

„Well, to be quite frank.“ but you couldnt finish it because a second later the door opened behind you. You shut your eyes knowing exactly who that was and how this was gonna look for you. Lando walks in fully dressed for the night, spotting you stand there in your bathrobe, your back turned towards him and in the room none other than. What? Logan? Really?

„What the fuck is he doing here.“ Lando asked not even acknowledging Logans presence. Great. Could anything go your way. You sighed turning around and looking at him „Lan…“

„I‘m here to pick her up for dinner.“ Logan states crossing his arms. You turn back around. He was not serious. „What?“

„Excuse me?“ Lando hissed, clearly already getting worked up about the fact that the Williams driver had the audacity to show up here after he had clearly made sure the whole paddock knew you were his. The birkin had done his job. People had already texted him congratulations on the realitionship.

„Yes remember, we made the plans last week when I came to your place?“ Logan asks you, quite literally doing it on purpose. You knew he was doing it on purpose.

„So hold on!“ Lando grabbed your shoulde and you turned around to look at his pissed off expression „He‘s the other driver?“

„The other what?“ you exclaimed being quite lost. Logan just chuckling, he had heard that Lando was trying scare someone off, apparently it was him. It mad Logan chuckle, surely you wouldn’t be so easy right?

„Last week you left an event with another driver!“ Lando hissed, pointing at the blonde american whi stood there with a cocky smile “It was him?“

„Yes.“ Logan grinned and you knew if he wanted Lando to punch him he was almost there. The brit had a short temper for stuff like this.

„Wait!“ you now yelled turning your attention towards Lando only „How do you know that!“

„Arthur saw you.“ Lando hissed, looking at you with a digusted expression. He starts to pace up and down the room and you roll your eyes at the dramatics.

„Lando calm down!“

„He’sinsane.“ Logan chuckled, shaking his head „Thinking he can put dibs on girl with some freaking bag just because he‘s too stupid to ask her out.“

„Logan!“ you now sighed , pointing at the door „Leave!“

Logan looks at you unamused but seeing you were serious. He rolls his eyes before pushing past you and leaving your room. Slamming tbe door shut on his way out, causing you to flinch as you stare at Lando who‘s looking like some maniac.

„Jesus!“ you sighed.

„Did you have s*x with him?“ Lando asked, blurting it out without hesitation but scared of the answer. You looked at him completely lost on what gave him that idea. Arthur for sure wasn’t a reliable source. Noted.

„What if I did Lando? We agreed on no strings!“ you tried to reason with him. The whole bag thing and him acting all jealous. It made zero sense „Its not like you weren‘t the one who was partying with a million girls after Silverstone.“

„Because I was mad at you!“ Lando now yelled. He really hated to admit this. He hated talking. He‘d rather buy you a million birkins but he knew his words were now needed.

„For what?“

„For not being there. You knew how important it was for me!“

„Lando I had to work!“ you sighed, still lost on how this all made sense „Thats why you slept with other women? Because you missed me?“

„I didn‘t sleep with anyone!“ he now defensed himself. You take a step back raising your brows as you realize you had been foolish.

„But the pictures?“

„Yes I made out with some of them. Im not proud. But I went home with Carlos.“ he sighed, looking at your smaller frame „And I got you that bag hoping you‘d forgive me for that. Well I also got it to scare the competition off.“

„Why didnt you say anything?“

„The bag speaks for itself or so I thought.“ he shakes his head „Only I forgot you aren’t like every other girl.“

„Lan.“ you smiled weakly, approaching him and putting your hand against his face „It‘s a nice bag. But unfortunately you will have to take it back because baby, forty thousand dollars? Thats ridiculous!“

Lando chuckled knowing how insane he sounded. He looked down at you „It was fifty thousand actually. I was trying compete with the other driver. If had known it was Sargeant I‘d gotten you something cheaper trust me.“

You can’t help but laugh „You’re mean!“

„No but seriously? He’s american!“ Lando said his voice all high pitched.

„I know.“ you. giggle, shaking your head „I didn’t t sleep with him tough baby. So you can take the bag back and buy yourself a car.

„Oh thank god!“ Lando sighed in relief his whole body relaxing. God he could be dramatic.

„I thought I was gonna have to pull an exorcism to get that thought out of my head.“

„Well we kissed.“ you smirk „So theres your exorcism.“

Lando fake gags and you punch his shoulder. Before wrapping your arms around his neck. Tugging on his curls. You look into his beautiful eyes, and he smiles down at you.

„So this no strings thing.“ he mumbles, biting the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart flutter as he comes down and kisses your lips softly his hand on your chin. He smiles „Its really just silly isn‘t it?“

You giggle „It is silly baby.“

„Okay from now on its strings baby.“ he states his hands wrapping around you body.

„Oh-„ you look at him with a scrunched nose „You might wanna skip that and go do boyfriend girlfriend right away.“

„Why?“

„Mhm…“ you sighed „Pretty sure my dad knows we had s*x.“

„What?!“ his eyes are wide open „How?“

„The stupid-„ you start but he interrupts you with raised brows.

„Birkin Bag.“

[suethh]

Nothing's New - Charles Leclerc

⋗ pairing - Charles Leclerc x female!reader, (Carlos Sainz jr x ex-best friend!reader)

⋗ summary - You're tired of Carlos's treatment of you as his friend, and when you get into a fight, Charles is there to pick up the pieces

⋗ word count - 6.3k words, fluff, hurt/comfort

⋗ masterlist - this was fun to write, I hope y'all enjoy my f1 fic on here, feedback and reblogs are appreciated

It has been as obvious as the sun, right since you two met. You're utterly and truly in love with Carlos, your older brother's friend. Then after a winter that had your families vacationing to a skiing place, Carlos became your best friend. A string of unfortunate events – or fortunate in your mind – had led to you and Carlos sharing a cabin, just the two of you. If you were smitten with him before, this was the turning point where you realised your crush had bloomed to love.

And well, you weren't exactly subtle about it. Carlos knew, and would never admit to having a hand in at least getting your brother lodged in a different cabin. A bit of bribery had made him create the perfect opportunity to spend time with you alone.

This was the winter that Carlos turned from your brother's friend to your best friend. Although, in Carlos's eyes, you were still just a friend, sure a newly acquired good friend. But just a friend. Because he realised very quickly that you would do practically anything for him, hearts in your eyes as you walked to the shed in the freezing cold to get logs for the fire. All the while Carlos stayed nice and cosy inside. Sipping on the hot chocolate you had made.

It made him realise that keeping you at just an arm's length would be a good thing. He once texted you if you wanted to come by with an umbrella because he knew you were in the area. You weren't, and Carlos was aware you weren't even in the same city. Yet there you were after his meeting waiting for him with an umbrella, and he took you out to eat on his treat. Venting about his frustrations as you listened carefully and tried to give advice.

Advice that Carlos didn't care for, you never really knew what you were talking about, you knew nothing in his eyes.

Calling you sheltered and naïve behind your back, and you would ignore the comments when they inevitably came back to you. Ignoring the blossoming pain in your chest, as Carlos would claim, he never said those things.

You had to stand on the sidelines as he got girlfriend after girlfriend, pushing you aside whenever a new relationship rolled into his life. Only for him to ask you to help pick up the pieces once it all fell to the floor. Usually by his own volition. It all felt so humiliating, and yet, a few choice words and promises you thought he would actually make good on this time, and you would have forgiveness ready for him on a plate.

The tabloids claimed he had a loyalty issue, and that he couldn't keep it in his pants. And he would poke at you, begging you to defend him and his honour, because he swore it was just a matter of misunderstandings. How foolish you looked, defending the man you loved in front of thousands of eyes, hoping that maybe this time. He would finally realise you would be the right one for him. That you wouldn't leave, that you could treat him so good. If only he would let you.

Blissful ignorance kept you in the dark. While you considered Carlos your best friend, closest confidant, practically your everything. As your life had begun to revolve solely around his. Carlos on the other hand barely considered you a part of his life, when he didn't need something from you. As the years passed by, he needed you less and less, your usefulness was drying up in his eyes. He had no qualms about simply stringing you along for the few times you did prove to be of help.

He had never used you for your name, not until your brother stopped socialising with Carlos. Then it had seemed all bets were off the table. Your brother could barely take hearing Carlos's name without having a visceral reaction. He wasn't blind, he knew that Carlos was using his younger sister, but he also didn't care enough to interfere. You had stated to him so clearly that Carlos was your best friend, and what could your brother really do when you seemed to be swimming in your delusions? Your brother was forced to stand on the sidelines until you would start drowning, so he could finally pull you out, and go I told you so.

There was no saviour to pull you out of your predicament, only yourself.

Your dad has always liked to parade Carlos around when given the chance, to events he would make you talk Carlos into attending. The type of events where your dad bought his tickets into everything. Sure he had made it big once, but that was before you were born, and now his biggest investment was Carlos. You didn’t mind these events, it meant having Carlos all to yourself for a few moments after. It meant having him tell you that you’re pretty in your dress, even though he would say that no matter what you wore. Your last name was painted on his jacket as he was paraded around by your dad. 

It was always the same, the same empty words filling your ears, that sweet and devilish smile that had made you fall for him all those years ago. It was unanswered text messages and poor excuses without any apologies. It was knowing his voicemail by heart, for that was most of the time you spent on the phone hearing his voice. That tiny snippet of a prerecorded message. 

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Your patience was starting to wear thin, as your heavy heart barely moved around Carlos. The flutters you had once felt, had all seemed to slowly be replaced with the hurt that was filling your body. The way he would repeatedly stand you up, disappoint you, lie to your face. You knew you were the fool, but having to face it before felt too terrifying. But now, it no longer felt as scary as it used to.

Not when he showed up at your door, asking for shelter because a girl was sleeping in his apartment, and his girlfriend didn't know about it, and he didn't want to be there when that went down.

"No." You found yourself sighing, the disappointment filling you, as he once again was only breaking his weeks of silence since his newest relationship started. All to ask you to cover for him.

"What do you mean no?" Carlos is perplexed, you never say no to him. "I promise I'll take you out to dinner later, and you can wear that-"

"No Carlos." You could feel a headache coming in, or maybe it showed up when Carlos knocked on your door, and you just hadn't noticed it till now.

"C'mon it's just a little thing, just go over there and say you were borrowing my place with your friend." Carlos leaned close into your face, a move that always seemed to make you feel weak, but now you just felt utterly uncomfortable. "Baby, Hermosa, you know I love you, come on, help me out here."

You pulled back, watching the man in front of you, he seemed kind of pathetic when he was propped up against your door like that. You knew if he kept going you would crack.

"No, I- Carlos no. You need to tell me, you need to say those words like you mean them. You need to convince me, that you aren't just repeating the same thing you've done 100 times over." You tell him, you actually tell him.

"Hermosa! You can't ask this of me, you're my best friend." Carlos is grasping at any strand that might help him.

"Your best friend?" You sigh, "Your best friend?! I was such a fool, I've never been your best friend. You've always been mine, but I've never been your best friend. You've always been my highest priority, and I know I can't change that. I'm not even sure if I want to change that. But I can't take it anymore Carlos. Go home. Go home, Carlos."

You knew you were about to cry, but fuck, you weren't going to do it in front of him. You weren't going to give him the luxury of calming you down, and then try to pass it off as an intimate moment later.

"Go home, Carlos." You repeat.

"But Hermosa, I am home." Carlos tried, and you knew your tears were falling. Even now, even in your own home, he was lying to you, telling you the words you wanted to hear.

But you will not fall for them. You promised yourself you wouldn't fall for them.

Carlos reached out to try to wipe your tears away. Instead, your hand smacked his gesture away.

"Go Carlos, go home."

"Hermo-..." He stopped himself. Collecting himself, he bore a look you could never forget, one of indifference. He looked at you like you truly didn't matter to him. "You get to explain to your dad what happened yourself."

And with those words, Carlos turned around. Sauntering out of your apartment, as though his longest friendship hadn't just been broken up, no he sauntered away as though someone had told him his favourite candy at the shop was sold out.

Carlos didn't even close your front door. 

The door was still ajar by the time you realised he wasn’t coming back. Carlos left. Carlos wasn’t coming back. He had truly left you for good.

You closed the door slowly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The weight on your shoulders seemed to lift, and you realised that you had been carrying the burden of unrequited love for far too long. A flash of envy took over, how unfair it felt to be left in the mess. Even as he had walked out your door. You would still have to be the one to make up for it all. Dread filled your stomach as you knew your dad would come to question you once the news reached his ears. 

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

In the following days, you spent your time throwing yourself the greatest pity party you could. A well-deserved one in your own mind, a constant checking of your phone, hoping, praying Carlos would reach out. You spent countless hours trying to convince yourself that he hadn’t looked at you like that, that he hadn’t looked at you like you truly didn’t matter to him. 

The questions from your dad were the worst. It was official now. Carlos was not to be a part of your life anymore. His personal assistant had told your dad all about the falling out, well Carlos’s version of your falling out. A tale spun from the most vicious lies, the type of story you would have once defended. The type you had put your name on the line for, was now directed at you.

Humiliation bitterly coated your mouth, as your dad chided you for making Carlos feel suffocated.

Why you couldn’t have done what the great racer just wanted?

Why did you have to go and ruin his great investment?

Then came concerned glances from friends who knew how entangled you were with Carlos. You kept your composure, explaining that things between you two had changed and that you needed space. It felt horrible to watch as the people you thought cared for you, slowly seemed to chip away with each “I’m so sorry to hear.” The way these people would turn around and spread whatever they could, all for a grasp of recognition. Milking the situation for the last bit of fame they could get from you.

The whispers reached your brother's ears, and he offered a supportive shoulder, a mix of sympathy and "I told you so." You appreciated the comfort, even if it came with a hint of vindication. The irony in his offer shining bright, he sat across the world, and you both knew neither of you would make the trip to see the other. You weren’t close like that, in fact, you were barely close enough to exchange gifts for birthdays. 

As if the world wasn’t caving in beneath you already, his teammate had texted you. Charles Leclerc himself had texted you. It made you feel mental. 

Charles Leclerc: Hey... It’s Charles. I don’t know if you have my number saved. I hope this isn't too forward. I heard about what happened with Carlos, and I just wanted to check-in. If you're not comfortable talking, I completely understand.

The text from Charles surprised you, a glimmer of unexpected support in the aftermath of your break with Carlos. You hesitated before responding, unsure of the dynamics at play and Charles's true intentions. Why would he text you? Why did he think you would have deleted his number? You know, the only reason the two of you ever swapped numbers was because of a night out last year. You think you could count your meetings with the Monegasque on one hand.

Your fingers finally worked up the courage to reply.

You: Hi, I do have your number saved. Thank you for reaching out. Yeah… It has been a lot. But why are you texting me?

The three bobbles popped up as your mind started running through all types of scenarios. From him telling you that Carlos should have walked away from you sooner, to asking if you were sure you couldn’t forgive Carlos.

Charles Leclerc: I get it if you're sceptical. But I've seen how Carlos treated you, and I felt like someone should offer support. If you're not comfortable with me, I totally understand.

His honesty surprised you, softening your initial reservations. You decided it was worth it to test the waters a bit more.

You: I appreciate the offer. But why now? Why not when I was at the races with you and Carlos was... well, Carlos?

You hesitated before hitting send, wondering if your bluntness was too much. There was a pause before Charles replied, as if he was carefully choosing his words.

Charles Leclerc: I guess I've been questioning a lot of things lately. I overheard Carlos complaining about having to play nice with your dad, and it rubbed me the wrong way. It made me realise I should've reached out sooner.

You had left him on read for half a day after that message, it had felt like a slap in the face. Even in your misery, your last name seems to be so much more important than you. It had hurt, and then you had texted him in annoyance one last time before bed. You even promised yourself you didn’t want to spend more energy on race car drivers. 

You: It’s been a mess.

A short, simple message. That neat brief text perfectly summed up all you needed to say. Except then, you had woken up to a reply from Charles. 

Charles Leclerc: If you ever feel like talking, or even if you just need a distraction, I'm here. No pressure, seriously.

It's possible that you weren't done with race car drivers. Your resolve had never been the strongest, and you did have a long list of poor decisions. You tried to rationalise with yourself, what would adding one more to that last really do for you?

You had found yourself texting Charles a lot more than you had thought you would. It surprised you how eager he seemed to respond. There was no waiting for three days for a response. He rarely left you on read without acknowledging he had at least read your message. You couldn’t find any fault with the charming Monegasque, so it was self-evident when you accepted his proposal to get coffee together. 

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The coffee meetup with Charles turned out to be ‌easygoing. Both of you approached the conversation with a degree of caution, but as minutes turned into hours, the conversation flowed naturally. It started with light banter, a shared laughter over amusing anecdotes, and gradually evolved into more personal topics. Then he finally breached the topic. 

“What happened between you and Carlos?” Charles didn’t smile. Instead, he looked at you seriously, a drastic change from the man who had just told you he still gets lost at most race circuits. 

It was as if the floodgates had opened, you spilt everything that had happened between you and Carlos. When your brother had brought Carlos to meet your dad for the first time. How you thought it was love at first sight upon seeing the Spaniard. To the skiing trip where you had lodged with Carlos alone for 2 entire weeks, and how you two had bonded and really connected. How he became your best friend after that. Then you admitted to having let Carlos string you along for years because every time he would leave you crumbs, feeding your delusions that one day you two would end up together. How it took years of disappointment and broken promises for you to finally muster up the courage to tell him to get out of your life.

“I’m so sorry-” You cut Charles off. 

“I really don’t want to hear those words right now.” You had told him, a saddened smile on your lips. “Don’t apologise on behalf of someone who never will.”

Charles reached out across the table, putting his hand on top of yours. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. His silent display of support had been more than Carlos had ever shown you. 

After that meeting, all the hesitation that had lingered in the corners of your minds seemed to seep away. Slowly but surely, Charles had become a constant in your life, in every sense of the word. He was there for you. He would send a good morning text, and you would send a picture of the sunrise. You would ask for recipe ideas, and he would send back the most horrid creations of his that he thought counted as good food. 

He had snuck his way into seemingly every part of your life, bleeding into your daily routine, as though he had always been a part of it. Charles even made you start watching a show you had written off as not being for you, and yet he had been correct. You had been so absorbed you binged the first two seasons in a weekend.  

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Then came the travels, Charles asked you if you had ever been to Monaco and seen the place for what it was beyond the track. You had experienced the waters from a yacht once, Carlos had rented one and insisted you went with him because he wanted his best friend to be there with him. What a lie it had turned out to be. He had used you as an excuse to tell the press the other people on the yacht were your mutual friends. And that no, he didn’t cheat on his girlfriend at the time. How could he? You had even backed up his statement. What a fool you used to be. 

Flying to Monaco had been a pleasant experience, a first-class ticket your dad had paid for, under the pretence you would bring up his name to Charles. 

Despite your constant texting with him, this was the first time since the coffee meet-up you had seen Charles, and suddenly 8 months seemed like such a long time. You shot him a quick text after you landed. 

Charles🏎️: I’m waiting for you :)

His eyes were brighter than you remembered, in a way a camera could never truly capture. His white button-up sleeves had been rolled up, and a few buttons undone at the top. He looked the part of the rich Monegasque that he was. 

“Hi…” you breathed. 

“Hey…” he responded. 

“You look…” You trailed off, not knowing what to say, what could you even say in a situation like this. 

Then a smile spread across his face, and just when you thought he couldn’t get any more handsome, your heart skipped a beat. “Handsome? Dashing? Might I even suggest breathtaking?” His laugh was so pure, and you knew you were threading dangerous territory as you watched his arms flex. Charles was making easy work of getting your suitcase in the trunk of his Ferrari. 

“Is that a Stradale?” You reached out for the handle. 

“Wait!” Charles closed the trunk and rushed over, flashing you a smile as he opened the door for you. “And yes it is, I never took you for being a car person.”

You slipped into the supercar, smiling up at him. “Well, you pick up a few things when your friends are Ferrari drivers.”

His penthouse was stunning. You recognised the view from a few of the pictures he had sent you over the last months. The interior decoration oozed with Charles’ personality in a way you had never expected it to. You would admit, you forgot Charles was probably significantly richer than you took him for. So used to only seeing him in his tracksuit, or that casual black t-shirt he had worn for your coffee meet-up. The image that had burned itself into your mind. He made even a simple outfit look so… You didn’t want to continue that sentence. 

Charles took you out to eat that evening, promising he would give you a personalised tour of the city the day after. And he did just that.

First, in broad daylight, he pointed out places he had been when he was growing up, places he liked to eat now, and then the small cafe. The one he had texted you about. Where he had made you promise not to tell his dietician that he shared an ice cream dessert with you. 

Then, as the night had come creeping up on you two, he had taken you for a walk around the track, horrified to learn you had never accompanied Carlos on a track walk before. Even an unofficial one, like you two were doing now. 

His hand brushed against yours as you walked around the track. Your mood was light, trying not to savour the few times Charles bumped his shoulder into yours. All in the attempt that you would look at him instead of the road markings. You wished he would just grab your hand, for you don’t think you would have let his go. You don’t think you could even let Charles go. 

The thought soured your mood, and it seemed Charles picked up on it. Unaware of why, you had a frown on your face, and you regretted so badly not to have given him an excuse. The shoulder bumping and hands brushing against each other seemed to stop for the night, despite the way both of your voices carried chipper tones. 

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Your fingers lightly brushed over the black finish of his grand piano. It was beautiful. Far above any piano you had ever played before. You gracefully slipped onto the bench, flipping up the cover, as you marvelled at the keys. Unaware Charles had come to join you.

“Do you play?” A simple question, and yet you think Charles had more intrigue in that one question than Carlos had ever had during your entire friendship. 

“I’m a trust fund baby, of course, I can play.” You told him your fingers danced across the bright white keys, your eyes fixed on the keys as the music filled the room. Charles took it as his queue to sit down beside you, his body pressed up against yours. 

A sharp tone cut through the tranquil melody. Expecting Charles to chastise you for the simple mistake, instead, he laughed as you stopped playing. When you turned your head to look at him, you finally realised just how close the two of you were.

“You play a lot better than I expected a trust fund baby to.” His smile was truly blinding, you slowly retracted your hands to yourself, as Charles placed his fingers on the keys. “I’ve made a few pieces myself. Don’t judge me too hard.”

“I could never judge you.” The words had left your mouth before you had realised you said them. 

Charles hummed in response, his shoulder lightly pressed against yours. You pressed right back up against him. 

The first few notes came floating from the piano, his fingers mesmerising you as they danced across the keys. He was far more elegant than you could ever imagine yourself being. The melody made your body feel warm, he had captivated you completely. Wasn’t there anything this man could do? One of the greatest race car drivers of his generation, an exceptional pianist, and not to mention… You couldn’t deny it much longer, he was truly handsome. 

As the music drew you further in, your head rested against his shoulder, and Charles said nothing. Instead, he kept playing and playing and playing, one piece flowing right into the next one. You weren’t aware of how much time had passed. Completely lost in the moment, lost in Charles. You didn’t realise when you had closed your eyes, all too absorbed in the comfort Charles seemed to radiate here at his piano. 

“I can’t have you fall asleep on me now.” His voice gently brought you out of the trance. You wanted to dispute his words, but he had been right. If he had kept playing. You would probably have slept up against him, not that you would have minded. 

You slowly opened your eyes, shifting your head slightly. His eyes were already looking at yours. Your breath hitched. 

Had his eyes always been this green?

You barely noticed how he had moved his hands from the piano, not until one of them gently graced your chin. He looked so peaceful, so content, as though this was all that mattered to him. As though you were all that mattered to him. 

“Can I?” He whispered.

“Please.” You replied. 

Then your eyes shut closed, as you felt his soft lips on yours. The kiss was slow and passionate. Charles was the first to pull away, and your eyes fluttered open. Anxious thoughts were quick to enter your head, he was going to say it’s a mistake. 

Instead, Charles simply threw a leg over the bench, so he could pull you closer. Both his hands were quick to find your face once more. A carefree smile on his lips, the ones you just kissed.

“Chérie…” he breathed, before pulling you into him once more. This time the kiss was more desperate, and you mirror his sudden change in attitude. You craved him. You needed him. You wanted Charles with every inch of your body, and you wanted him to know it too. 

Waking up tangled in the Monegasque’s bedsheets, his arm lazily wrapped around your body, was nowhere in your vacation plans to his country, and yet it had been the best part. 

Peaceful times rarely last as long as people want them to. 

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Nearly a year of travelling back and forth to see Charles in Monaco, and him to you. Had made the two of you realise this was serious. It was blissful, and heaven. Your dad had even got to meet him, must against your better judgement, but Charles had managed himself fine and brushed off the need for your dad to sponsor him. He had stated a clear-cut need to not mix business with pleasure, and he planned to keep you around for as long as you would let him. 

Time always seems to stand still when you’re waiting for something. And right now you wished it would pass faster. You were waiting for Charles to call, he had told you to wait by the phone. But that was 5 minutes ago, and you know he’s busy. But it never made you any less nervous when he was late to call.

Cariño🏎️ is calling…

A sigh of relief flooded your body. His voice greeted you with an apology before launching right into what he wanted to talk about. 

“Chérie, come visit me next month. We can stay in Monza for a week, just the two of us.” Charles had pleaded with you. 

“But what will people say?” You asked him, as though you weren’t already thinking of what to pack to see your boyfriend. Wanting to look your best when you were to cheer him on from the side.

“Let them talk.” Charles laughed, “I know you’re already starting to pack.” 

“No, I am not!” You dropped the red dress you were holding in your hands. 

“Sure, Chérie.” He seemed to know you better than yourself some days, and you had never thought you would ever feel this way. And yet here he was, showing you day after day, that he loved you like no other. “We’ll talk later okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, Cariño.” You told him, as the phone line went dead. A small laugh escaped as two flight tickets and a hotel booking immediately popped up in your mail. He was well aware you could not stand to say no to his charm, and he loved it. 

As the car pulled up to the paddock, Charles clasped his hand around yours. You were wearing your best red dress. The one you knew gave Charles a hard time. You enjoyed his eyes on you, and Charles enjoyed having his eyes on you. 

The Grand Prix was only a few hours away. You had opted to stay at the hotel for Friday and Saturday. You didn’t want to cause unnecessary press to be directed at Charles. Ferrari appeared to already have that in their bag, judging from the sudden car issue during qualifying, which resulted in Charles starting from P14 on the grid. 

“It will be alright, Chérie.” Charles kissed the back of your hand. “I’ll be your knight in shiny red.” 

You laughed. He always seemed to know how to make your worries disappear and float away. “You’re too cheesy, Cariño.”

“And yet you love me.” 

“That I do.”

Then the car door went up, and Charles stepped out of the car, making a big show of helping you out of the car. Before offering his arm up for you to take. Your previous years of coming to the paddock had more than prepared you for the flashes of cameras and the screaming of fans. Charles took it all nonchalantly as well. Just another weekend, just another race. Expect the pictures would come to tell the story of a man so utterly in love, a far cry from his usual demeanour on the grid. 

Charles had no qualms about showing you off to anyone who would look at him. A hand constantly rested on your lower back, and he enjoyed your closeness. A small hint of protectiveness in the air, and you suddenly wished he showed his side of himself more. 

“Charles! And- oh hey, long time.” Max Verstappen was the first to approach the two of you. It slightly surprised you to have him remember you. You were never the big socialiser when you had been on the paddock before, but you suppose even after a few years certain faces stick around in others' memories. 

Max didn’t have more to say about you and Charles, rather he had started talking about the breaking zone in turn 6. Although you were clearly checked out for most of it, Charles never let go of you during the entire interaction. His hand never strayed from your lower back. He enjoyed your closeness, and he was going to soak in every single moment of it he could get. 

It wasn’t long before Charles got called away. Max took that as his queue to leave as well. 

“I’ll see you right before the race, Chérie.” He stole a quick kiss from you right in front of everyone before being led away. You didn’t know until after that those pictures were quick to make the rounds on social media. Neither were you aware of the fact that Carlos had seen the entire ordeal. His blood was boiling at the sight. 

Nearly two years of no contact, and the first time Carlos saw you, you were kissing his teammate. What a cruel joke. He didn’t even laugh. 

You made use of your time without Charles to wander down the grid, saying hi to a few of the engineers in the McLaren garage. Even exchanging hellos with Lando, albeit it was a short-lived conversation. He, like every other driver, was busy. You took in the paddock's atmosphere, realising to yourself you had missed this place. Or maybe you were just finally enjoying it for all of its worth. 

True to his promise, as Charles always was. Fully geared up in his tracksuit, and suddenly red had never been as pretty a colour. 

“Well thank you for calling me pretty, Chérie, although I will say, you’re the pretty one here,” Charles said, putting his hands on your waist. 

“I said that out loud.” 

“For everyone to hear, and I am flattered.” Charles teased you before he stole a quick peck on your lips. You lightly punched his chest, and he faked a look of hurt. 

“Good luck out there. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at him, stealing a kiss for yourself. 

“Well, I have to, since I have such a pretty one waiting for me.”

“Charles!” 

He laughed with you, before stealing one last kiss and hurrying over to his car. Reading up for the formation lap. The race itself was nothing special for the top 5, not that you would know. All too fixed on following the red car carrying your boyfriend. Who was fighting for his life to get anything useful out of starting P14. 

However, Charles soon ran into issues as he and Carlos had become P6 and P7. Carlos was refusing to let Charles overtake him. Despite Charles having a much better pace. The fighting continued for multiple laps, as the ones behind them started to catch up. Charles finally got an opening that was good enough for him to pass Carlos properly, but Carlos would not let it slide that easily. Defending hard against Charles, but ends up clipping the tire of the other Ferrari, sending Carlos into under-steer right out of the corner. Carlos lost 3 positions and was all the way back in P9. With Charles in P6. 

Charles overtakes twice more in the rest of the race. Landing him just out of the podium, and yet your pride for him is overflowing. Not hesitating to kiss him once Charles reaches you. 

“It’s just 4th place, Chérie.” He would say, and you would correct him. “It’s still better than 15 others.” Kissing him every time he would display any dissatisfaction about his ending result. 

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The media pen had gone easy on Charles in comparison to Carlos. While most had asked Charles about the small tire touching with his teammate, most were interested to hear if this 4th place could mean Ferrari was to get a podium soon. And then he answered some questions about you, confirming that he was no longer single and very much in a happy relationship. 

Some mercy might have been shown to Charles, but the same couldn't be said for Carlos. The Spaniard was already enraged before stepping into the media pen. Then he was thrown for the wolves to be torn apart. Question upon question about how he could have gone against team orders and not let Charles pass. How Carlos endangered both of the Ferrari drivers with his reckless and downright unnecessary defending. But then there was a question about you to finally snip his thin thread of patience. 

“How do you feel about seeing a familiar face on the paddock after the last 2 years?” The interviewer asked Carlos. 

“It seems anybody and everyone is welcome these days.” Carlos laughed disdainfully. “Even gold diggers and fame chasers.” The headlines were writing themselves after that interview. 

Formula 1 driver Carlos Sainz Jr. drags his sponsor's daughter in an interview.Carlos Sainz speaks out about his teammate dating his ex-friend.Sponsor pulls out of contract with Carlos Sainz Jr. after interview. 

It seemed even your dad had his limits. A surprise to you. Instead of bothering to call you about it himself, he let you find out from an article your brother sent you. Your brother had asked if you knew anything, and you had been honest about being as blindsided as he was. 

“What are you looking at, Chérie?” Charles kissed your shoulder as he leaned over the couch. You tilted your head back, as he leaned down to kiss your lips this time. 

“Dad pulled out of his sponsorship with Carlos.” You told him. 

“What?” Charles wandered around the couch, falling down beside you, he was quick to open his arms, and let you cuddle into him. 

“I know!” You showed him the article. You handed over your phone to Charles, as you settled into your favourite spot in the whole world. 

“Merde, he actually did.” Charles was in disbelief as much as you were. It was no secret your dad absolutely adored Carlos. Even after first, your brother fell out with him, and then you as well. Your dad had never strayed from putting Carlos on an absolute pedestal, his favourite child.

“Are you going to start walking around with my last name on your chest then, Cariño?” You snuggled closer into him, enjoying the warmth he was omitting. Your eyes closed in bliss, as Charles started carting his fingers through your hair. 

“I would much rather you took my last name, Chérie.” Charles kissed the top of your head. 

“Slow down there Romeo, my dad just broke up with Carlos, I don’t think he can take another earth-shattering situation within this year.” Your head resting against his chest, you were able to follow his heartbeat. You had always loved the sound of it, because his heart was truly beating for you. And Charles never let you doubt it for a second.  

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, a tremendous shout out to @thisismeracing and @pucksandpower for suffering through my obsession with all of this, and helping me through editing. And lastly, thank you to @toiletwipes for always telling me to keep writing and getting me back into proper fic writing

[suethh]

Lucky Charm

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

pairing: james potter x reader

summary (request by @delusionalcancer): hello! I was wondering if you could do a James Potter fiction where he has a very important quidditch match and begs you to go but you can’t so he is really sad but midway through he sees you in the crowd and gets super happy? Sorry if requests are closed!

word count: 5k

warnings: weed, language, a tiny bit of angst, james calls you doll, no y/n (i think)

a/n: been really liking writing about quidditch recently lol. This is based on book!james who is a chaser not a seeker. its a bit cheesy but i think its cute

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The common room was never quiet after Gryffindor had a quidditch match. Even when you lost -a rare occasion- there would be a crowd of bitter fans, grumbling about an unfair call or an unlucky miss, late into the night. Usually quidditch brought life and excitement to Gryffindor, no matter the outcome. But today as students in red and gold shuffled up the marble staircases and through the portrait hole they were silent, even in large groups there was no more than a hushed nervous whisper among them. The usual complaints that followed a loss had been discarded and forgotten. 

It bothered you. It was uncanny and made you shift uncomfortably in your chair by the fireplace. A glance around told you that you weren't the only one feeling that way, an uneasy air had filled the room. 

The match had been a brutal one, even now the heavy drops pounded against the windows of the tower, the winds shifting and fighting, unable to decide which way to blow. The air was just cold enough to turn what should have been rain to sleet, sharp and cold. Many had been surprised that the match had even taken place, expecting it to be canceled due to such terrible conditions. But the heads of houses refused to back away from a challenge, and the Gryffindor team hardly seemed to mind. 

“Quidditch is played in any weather and every weather.” James had insisted, the morning before the match, “They won’t cancel a match for anything and I don't expect them to.” 

You had stared up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall anxiously watching as chunks of hail were blown sideways uneasily, “I don’t think I even wanna go watch.” 

James' face dropped as soon as you said this, “What? No!” he exclaimed, “You have to come watch. You're my lucky charm!” 

And of course when he said that with his lips pulled into his signature boyish pout you couldn’t deny him anything. 

Gryffindor was the favorite to win this year's cup, as they were every year since James joined the house team. It wasn’t all him of course but he had something no one else seemed to possess; raw and unbridled talent. People often joked that he was born to ride a broom, but it was hardly a joke. James’ broom wasn’t something he rode, it was a part of him. It seemed to a spectator that he could hop onto it and tell it what to do with nothing but his mind. He was graceful and precise so casually it seemed as if he were hardly trying at all. Today's game against Slytherin had been a shoe in, an expected win.

Which is why the loss had come with such a heavy silence. You couldn’t deny that Slytherin thought ahead, they too had been expecting the rain and had been a bit smarter about it, casting a series of enchantments and charms onto their players, paying extra attention to their seeker. So while your team fumbled through heavy storm clouds bogged down by drenched robes, the Slytherins had a relatively easy time navigating the skies. With this advantage they had taken the opportunity to humiliate the Gryffindor team as much as possible. 

Their chasers played dirty, purposefully slamming into the Gryffidors and then claiming they simply had not seen them. Their beaters were ruthless as well, using their bats for hitting more than just bludgers, one of them had hit your new third year seeker, Aada Laine, straight between the eyes with their wooden bat, breaking her glasses in two and bloodying her nose.

James, who was so used to winning and doing it easily, took this bitter start to the match poorly. His anger had risen quickly leading to a number of unnecessary fowls that the Slytherin team took with great enthusiasm and by the time Regulus had caught the snitch right from under a near blinded Aada, Slytherin was already up 120 to 40. Perhaps it was just the shame of a horrible game but as James landed he had been angrier than you had ever seen him. His usually unruly hair plastered down across his skull from the rain, one of the lenses of his glasses was cracked and he was gripping his broom so tightly you had been surprised it had not snapped in two. 

His obnoxious parade that usually occurred after a match had not taken place, in fact he had not even glanced at where you, Sirius, and Remus stood waiting for him on the edge of the pitch. Instead he marched across the mucky grass straight towards the seeker.

She was sobbing uncontrollably despite the fact that her nose and glasses had both been fixed by Madame Hooch. A few other teammates stood around the young girl attempting to offer comfort. But when James reached her he did no such thing, in fact he snatched the broom from her hand and yelled so loudly that even over the whipping of the wind and the jeers of Slytherin you had heard him kick her off the team. The rest of the Gryffidors had made to protest angry shouts and bitter words thrown at James but he had simply marched across the field and into the changing room leaving Aada wailing even louder than before.

No one had seen James since, and as you sat quietly in the common room with the other students it began to seem like you were all waiting for him. Waiting for him to show up, all smiles and jokes, and everything would go back to normal. But as hours ticked by and he never showed it became clear this was not going to be the case. 

By dinner time the common room had almost completely cleared out. The die-hard fans retreated to bed while the rest of the house trooped miserably to the Great Hall preparing for the taunts and jeers from the Slytherin table across the hall. 

It was almost dark by the time Remus climbed through the portrait hole looking annoyed, but he grinned when he saw you. 

“No dinner?” You asked him and he shook his head sitting beside you. 

“Been out looking for James.” 

Your eyes widened, “You still haven't found him?” 

“No we did.” He assured you quickly, “He's just acting like a prick so I decided I wanted to come in and dry off.” 

“Makes sense,” you sighed, “he looked furious out there.” 

“Tell me about it.” Remus groaned slumping back, his wet robes soaking onto the couch as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table, “He’s sulking like a child out at the boat house.” 

“Oh, he’s very mature.” You chidded and you both grinned lightly. 

There was a moment of quiet and the fireplace snapped, a portrait yawning. 

“I don't suppose you could go get him?” Remus asked, looking up at you hopefully. 

You sighed expecting this, “What makes you think I could bring him to reason?” 

“You know how he is,” Remus said and he was right. You knew exactly how James was, earnest and genuine and proud. You thought about it for a minute, Remus eyeing you hopefully. Reluctantly you gave in. “Well I best go get him.” 

You mumbled complaints under your breath on your way down towards the lake, the enticing smell and warmth of the great hall taunting you as you passed. 

The trail to the boat house was muddied and steep. By the time you reached the bottom you were shivering and damp, glad for the cover it provided from the wind and rain. James was seated at the edge of one of the docks staring out across the lake. 

You sat next to him and he turned, “Oh.” he said, “I thought you were Sirius.”

You grimace, “Does my hair look that bad?” 

James' usual laugh didn’t follow and instead he cracked a small forced grin. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, the sound of the rain pounding onto the roof and splashing onto the water. 

“Congrats on the game by the way.” You say.

“What?” James looked at you bitterly, “That's not funny.”

You grin, “Yeah but you were, I’d stand out in that shit weather to watch you knock Connaham off his broom again.” 

James paused, “He scored because of that.” 

“Eh, whatever,” you shrug, “Totally worth it.” 

You were expecting a laugh but instead James just shook his head, “You don’t understand.” 

“Well then explain it to me.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully at him. 

“We’ve got absolutely no chance at the cup anymore.” He says fiercely. 

You shrug again, “Since when I thought we were favorites? You just lost one game.”

By the way James looks at you you can tell he's getting frustrated but you don't back off keeping his gaze lock with yours. 

“Ravenclaw hasn’t lost at all, and there's no way we're beating them by 230 points. We’d have to be 80 points up and catch the snitch.” 

“That doesn't mean impossible.” You point out and he glares. 

“You don't understand quidditch.”

“Says who?” you say and he shoots you a look, “Okay so what if I don't understand quidditch, I do understand that you're bloody good at it.” 

Your praise raises a genuine smile out of him for the first time that night. 

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me.” He said, wiggling his brows. 

“Don't let it go to your head.” 

There's another pause in conversation and you take the opportunity to pull a small joint from the pocket of your robes.

James grins, “Ah so this is the reason you're out in the cold.”

“What? No! I'm here purely to comfort you.” You giggle, lighting it with the flick of your wand. 

He watches you out of the corner of his eye, the way your face lights up from the soft orange glow of burning hash. Your eyes sparkle and your lips pucker as you exhale. He finds it hard to look away but does so quickly when you turn to look at him. 

“Want some?” 

He nods and takes the joint from you grinning, “Thanks doll.” 

You flush at the pet name, something he called you a bit too often. 

The two of you pass it back and forth a couple times silently, watching the cold rain splatter onto the surface of the lake. 

“You should really apologize to Aada though.” You mumble the slight buzz of your high making your voice sound floaty. 

James doesn't say anything for a moment before he folds his arms stubbornly, “I was serious about that. She played like shit.” 

You furrow your brow, “You all did James, that's not fair.” 

Heat rises to his cheeks as shame bubbles in his stomach, “I don’t care if it's not fair. That snitch was four centimeters from her nose when Black caught it. She cost us the game.” 

“Her broken nose.” You fight back, “And it's a team sport, she screwed up yeah, but so did you.” 

Embarrassment flooded James' head in an angry red, “If it weren't for me it would have been a bloody blowout!” He snaps and you're taken aback, “I scored every damn point we had and youre saying I screwed up?” 

You look at him bitterly, “Yeah I am. You let yourself get all pissed off before the game was even up and your team fell apart. You're the captain, take some responsibility.” you scoff. 

James is now glowering, the softness of being high turned sharp and awkward, “You don’t even know what youre talking about.” 

“I may know nothing about quidditch James but I do know that making a little girl cry over a game is a prick move.” You spit. 

“It's not just a game!” He shouted at you so loud you flinched back. 

Your eyes are narrowed as you stand, “That's exactly what it is James, a game. And you let yourself get all worked up over it like a child.” 

He tenses as you speak, he feels as if someone had punched him in the gut when you look at him like that. But his pride takes over in a swoop and anger rises as he stands too, “What are you even doing down here?” He demands, “To smoke fucking weed and ‘comfort me’? You're not my bloody girlfriend!” 

You stop dropping your shoulders, he was right of course, you weren't his girlfriend. As much as everyone always seemed to assume you were, as much as you flirted and touched, sneaking off together into the night beneath his cloak. The two of you had always toed the line of intimacy but you had yet to cross it, something you lay awake thinking about most nights. 

“You're right.” You state firmly, “I don’t know what I’m doing down here.”  And you turn, throwing the roach onto the ground and stomping it out. You're back out into the night grateful, as the weather hides your tears. 

James doesn't follow though he bites his tongue harshly when you leave, wanting to call out, apologize and beg you to stay with him. But he doesn't, just watching you go with balled fists before he yells and swings at the stone wall.

The next morning is awkward when James makes it down to the great hall for breakfast, his hair messier than usual and dark circles under his eyes, the knuckles on his right hand scabbed.

The two of you sit on opposite sides of Sirius who carried the conversation on his back with great effort. 

“Godric, what is up with you two?” He asks finally, “You’re walking around like fuckin’ corpses.” 

“Nothing.” you shrug not meeting his eyes, “Just tired.” 

Sirius eyes you both, and then glances at Remus who is mentally praying for him to shut up. “Sure…”

You excuse yourself to head to Arithmancy and Sirius turns to James immediately, “So you guys finally shagged huh?” 

James sputters and Remus scoffs in disbelief. 

“That's not while you’re all awkward?” He gaped, “What the hell else could it be?” 

James grimaced, “We just… had an argument. “ 

“Don’t tell me it was over Quidditch.” Sirius says and James looks away, “Christ you're an idiot.” 

James just nods in agreement, letting his head rest in his arms. All of the anger he felt towards you had been replaced by regret over his sleepless night and now all he wanted was for you to smile at him, but you wouldn’t even meet his eyes. 

“Well, apologize.” Remus says, beginning to pack up his things, “Seems you have a lot of apologizing to do after yesterday.” 

James stares gloomily at where you had been sitting, “Yeah I know.” 

It's not till lunch when he finally gets you alone, cornering you on your way out of Herbology and back up to the castle. The grounds are wet from yesterday's weather and your shoes are covered in mud. 

“I’m sorry.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, “I didn’t mean to yell at you last night, I was just upset and tired and I… I shouldn’t have done that. I'm really sorry doll.” 

You eye him skeptically, looking for a hint of anything but pure sincerity, but find none. His eyes are glued to you like he's begging you to forgive him and as usual you just can't say no. 

“All’s forgiven James.” You say simply, “Though you're lucky I didn't push you into the lake.” 

Neither of you mention the real reason you stormed back to the castle last night, what he had said about what you were, or more what you weren’t. The topic seemed too heavy for the bright sun that seeps through cracks in the clouds. 

He grins and throws an arm around you, “See this is why you're the best.” 

You raise a brow, “Why ‘cuz I put up with all your bullshit?” 

“No, because you forgive me for all my bullshit.” 

“That's because I know you're an idiot who only means about half of what he says.” You snicker and it feels as if the world has gone back to spinning when he leans into you.

“I'd give myself at least a good three quarters.” He smirks. 

“Of course you would.” 

Remus looks pleased to see you hooked under James’ arm when you enter the common room, “See you two have kissed and made up.” 

You flush.

“I think we're missing half that equation.” James said slyly, leaning in to peck your cheek, “There, all better.” 

“Get off me James,” You huff, heart pounding as you half-heartedly push him away to take a seat on the couch and you know everything is back to normal when he sits beside you and throws his arm back over your shoulder with a pout. 

And things stay normal, well as normal as they usually are. 

The weather begins to warm and the trees begin to sprout new growth, green and pink flowering across the forest whenever you look out the window. A sense of excitement has gathered in the students, even as exams approach the sun gleaming through dusty windows in the castle make everyone feel giddy. 

James has been practicing non-stop now as the final match against Ravenclaw approaches. He's out late, keeping the team out till dark to run drill after drill, play after play. He's even taken to giving private lessons to the new seeker, “Can’t have them falling apart when I leave, doll,'' He explained when you asked, “Plus I need her to be prepared for the match, we’re gonna win that cup again I swear.” 

It was nice to see he was nothing but optimism again, his natural state. But it all crashed to the ground when the date for the match was set. 

Your eyes go wide when he tells you, “The 16th?” 

“Yeah, so you better start making your ‘Go Potter’ banner now.” He says cheekily.

“James..” You pause and feel guilt bubble in your chest, “I have my apparition test on the 16th. It was set ages ago.” 

His face falls, “I thought we all took the test back in January!”

You shake your head, “Wasn’t 17 yet, my mum had to pull some strings so I didn't have to wait till summer.”

“So you can't come?” He’s devastated, his heart sinking into his stomach, he doesn't just want you there, he needs you there; to glance down at in the crowd after he scores, to wink at as he sweeps past, “But youre my lucky charm.” His voice is so soft it hurts.

 “I know James, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” You look down at your hands unable to handle the disappointment that was written on his face. 

He doesn't say anything, just staring down at the food on his plate. Suddenly his appetite was gone, he didn’t know what to think, how to think. What was even the point of quidditch if you couldn’t be impressed by his amazing dives and dodges?, “Will you at least be there before the match?” he asks.

You shake your head, “I’m leaving Friday after classes. My mum is gonna bring me back on Sunday.” 

And he wanted to cry, it was childish and dramatic but it felt like you were abandoning him before his big moment, his big match, one that he had been working so incredibly hard to win, “Oh.” is all he can muster out and you're both left looking at your laps. 

You apologize again, and try not to let the heaviness in your chest drag you through the floor. You weren’t sure if there was anything worse than disappointing him, you preferred him fiery and fuming.

When James reached the Quidditch pitch for practice that day he seemed to have lost all of his energy, his feet dragging. He kept getting asked if he was okay and he kept saying yes even though it felt like someone had smashed him to bits and put him back together with nothing but scotch tape. 

He played terribly, his usual charisma lost leaving his passes stale. He felt anger rising with every mistake he made, how could he let this happen? How could he let you have so much impact on him? How could one person missing from a stand of hundreds make him not even want to play? It was infuriating how obsessed he had become with you. Sirius and Remus had warned him this would happen, that his little crush would grow into a bulging monster, and they had been right. He simply couldn’t help it, you were stunning. And funny and brilliant and every other positive adjective he could possibly come up with, he would list what he liked about you for years if you asked. It was this reason he just couldn’t bring himself to confess, the only thing worse than having to keep you at arm's length was losing you altogether. And despite his friend's assurance that his feelings were returned he just couldn’t risk it, he couldn’t risk being wrong and not even being able to call you his friend anymore. Because, once again, he needed you. 

So he played it up, with the petnames and the touches, he took what he could trying to make it obvious, to convince you to make the move he so desperately wanted to. But you hadn't, you had just blushed and giggled, turning his heart to mush. 

And now he was sitting in an empty locker room, tears spilling down his cheeks because you couldn’t be at the most important game he had ever played, would ever play. He wiped them away desperately but they just kept coming, making his face feel hot and his head throb. 

The ache didn’t go away over time like he thought it would but grew, weighing him down like a ball and chain. Everyone noticed, his friends, his teammates and worst of all you. 

You kept apologizing, like it was your fault that his match had been scheduled on the one weekend you would be out of the castle. He could tell you felt terrible about it and it only made him feel worse that he wasn’t just bringing down his own performance but your own. If you didn’t pass your exam he was sure it would be his fault for making his own devastation at your departure so obvious. 

The sixteenth approached with building anticipation, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors that usually got on quite well had begun to shout obscenities at each other at dinner. Team members were taunted constantly in corridors on the way to classes, a duel had even broken out between two beaters, landing them both in the hospital wing for a short spell. But of course ever the strategist, the Ravenclaws had saved their best ammo for last. 

It was Friday night before the match and you had already left giving James a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek ‘for luck’ that had actually improved his mood quite a bit. As if sensing this the Ravenclaw captain had materialized before him on his way back from dinner with a sick grin on his face. 

“Heard not even your girlfriend wants to watch you lose tomorrow Potter.”

James flushed red, “Piss off, Robinson.” 

He just laughed, “I mean after your horrid performance last match I bet you asked her to leave huh?” 

James tried to swallow his fury but he was not doing very well, his fists bunching at his sides. 

“Maybe when I win she’ll realize you're all talk and finally go on that date with me.” he taunts. 

James knows this is very untrue, you had confessed to him many times that you found Robinson nothing short of annoying, claiming he had an even bigger head than himself, but he still felt jealousy rising in his gut. Would you think less of him if he lost again? Would you laugh about it behind his back? Would you give some other guy a kiss on the cheek and wish him luck instead? He wasn’t sure he could bear even the thought. 

He strode past Robinson with a seething glance, “You're gonna be bloody crying by the time the match is over tomorrow.” He hissed and then marched up the stairs to a restless night of dreams involving you kissing some faceless guy in blue quidditch robes. 

James felt sick the next morning, his head was throbbing behind his eyes and no matter how much bacon he tried to force into his mouth he just didn’t feel like eating. It wasn’t until Aada came up to him literally shaking from nerves that he realized he was just gonna have to pretend to be okay. 

He gave his usual pep talk in the locker room, but his eyes were cold and hard instead of the usual glowing excitement that he alluded. The team was tense when they marched out onto the field, the sun was out and the sky was clear. A cold morning breeze swept across the grass as he shook hands with a smirking Robinson and he shivered. 

The whistle blew and it began. 

“Potter with the quaffle!” The commentator began, “Nice dodge there, oh that looked like it hurt! It’s Ravenclaw with it now.” 

James growled rubbing his side where the bludger had hit him and racing after the girl who had snatched his fumble. 

The game pushed on and James was surprised to find that while he was playing mediocre at best, the rest of the team seemed to be making up for it on the tenfold. Aada, who had been instructed to do nothing but annoy the Ravenclaw seeker until Gryffindor was eighty points up was doing a magnificent job, the extra time he had put into training  her showing obviously in her skillful maneuvering and dives. The beaters had yet to miss a hit and twice James had been able to score with only the keeper as an obstacle. 

Despite the fact that they had gone in at a significant disadvantage the Gryffindors were shockingly loud, James didn’t glance much at the crowd, afraid it would make him realize who wasn’t there more than who was, but he could hear them even over the whooshing of wind in his ears. 

They were almost an hour into the game when the snitch was first spotted, but only 50 points up, Aada was unable to go for it and instead took the opportunity to run straight into the Ravenclaw keeper, nearly knocking him off his broom. She played it off beautifully, tears and all, and it cost them only one penalty shot which their keeper saved. James could have hugged them both. 

When the quaffle was tossed after, Robinson had snatched it from James’ grasp and sped towards the hoops. A bludger caught him in the side and the quaffle spiraled from his grip down towards the Gryffindor crowd, James raced after it, his feet sweeping inches from the heads of his classmates when he caught it with a roll. It was then that something caught his eye. 

A flag so large it was being held by four people was spread and waving mere inches from his face, the words, “Go Potter!” sprawled on it in red and gold ink that had been enchanted to send off sparks that crackled and snapped with golden light. 

He looked down and saw you staring up at him, a red hat pulled over your head as you cranned up at him, waving your arms as wildly as you could possibly manage. You were grinning so wide he could see each of your teeth, your cheeks pink and eyes glinting as you cheered up at him. 

When you locked eyes he felt his heart rise from his stomach and pound away in his chest. He wanted to drop into the stands that very moment, take you into his arms and kiss you stupid. But instead he sent you a wink and sped off towards the goals feeling like someone had just gifted him a pair of wings. 

“Potter with the quaffle, bludger coming his way. A beautiful dodge!” The commentator yelled, “And he's looped Robinson as well, look at him go!” 

James had never felt so confident in his life, and he scored with ease again and again, coming to do a victory lap round your flag each time he did. 

“And Potter scores again!” shouted the loudspeakers, “He has been simply unstoppable! Gryffindor leads 160 to 80!” 

The cheers were deafening around you and James once again hoovered above you momentarily, blowing you a kiss that caused your cheeks to light on fire. He was actually doing it, he was winning the match he had told you was impossible and pride swelled in your stomach. It wasn't ten minutes later when Aada caught the snitch and it was official, you had won, both the game and the cup. 

The team hurdled to the ground and swarmed their seeker, but James had started in a run the opposite way, towards the crowd that was now rushing out onto the pitch. 

He shoved past the first few to reach him and beelined for where you were jogging at him, arms spread. 

You collided with such force that if he hadn’t lifted you into the air you were sure you would have toppled over onto the ground. His arms wrapped around your waist spinning you around with a shout, “You came!” 

You nodded, smiling so hard it hurt, you looked down at him, his cheeks flushed, brown eyes glistening in the sunlight and you knew at that moment that it was meant to be. You took both hands and cupped his face pulling it into yours and kissing him feverishly. 

There was a loud chorus of cheers and whoops around you but neither of you heard, too lost in the taste of one another. When you broke away he was grinning even wider, “You passed then?” 

You had forgotten all about your test that morning, but he hadn’t, of course he hadn’t. 

“Yeah, I disappeared as soon as they handed me my license.” You giggled, heart hammering in your chest, “Mum’s gonna kill me for missing dinner.” 

“You’re a bloody treasure doll.” He laughed, and then he drew you into another kiss squeezing you tight around the middle as your hands ran through his hair. “My lucky charm.” 

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[suethh]

Eddie giving you face smooches to wake you after dozing off on the couch.

He starts off quiet, a whisper next to your ear, “Baby..sweetheart, gotta wake up. Can’t sleep on the couch.”

You groan in protest, as he pecks your forehead.“Tired.” is all you manage to say, rubbing your eye.

“I know you are, sweet girl, but you don’t wanna stay out here. You’ll wake up sore, c’mon.” He encourages.

“Eds, I don’t want to. ‘M comfy.” you pet his arm to try and convince him to let you have your rest. He doesn’t budge.

“Hmm. Just what am I gonna do with you?”

Eddie moves around you slightly and cradles your face, a moment of peace you think to yourself. Wrong.

He begins his barrage of kisses by planting a wet and sloppy smooch to your cheek first,

“Eddie-,”

Trailing down and across your jaw, he continues in a quick succession,

“Baby,”

he plants a fat one underneath your chin and then down your neck,

“‘Scuse me,”

he pecks under each eye,

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“‘M just gettin’ you to wake up so we can go to bed.”

Smack to your other cheek, leaving that one extra wet.

“Baby.” You whine, as if you didn’t love the attention.

He grabs your hand, kissing the back, and flips it over to leave one on your wrist.

“Ready now? If not, I can continue.” He grins.

“I love you, but I want sleep right now.” You huff, heading falling against his chin awkwardly.

“Yeah, well. You can sleep in bed. Come on.”

You don’t listen, so he ends up carrying you to bed, where you both snuggle up and share a few kisses before succumbing to sleep. He was always happy to take care of his sweet girl.

[suethh]

Leonid Pasternak (1862-1945) "The Night Before the Exam" (1895) Oil on canvas Post-Impressionism Located in the Musée d'Orsay, Paris, France

[suethh]

Athena Nassar, from "Love Is Not Always Song, but the Swelling"

[suethh]

I’ve passed away from laughing too much

[suethh]

Alex Dimitrov, from "August"

[suethh]

any chance you'd be willing to do disassociating!reader with sirius as a fade into you prompt?

Thanks for requesting!

join the party

cw: mentions of blood, reader is in shock/dissociates after injury-related trauma

Sirius Black x reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’ve long since stopped shaking by the time you get back to your apartment, but it still takes you a few tries to get the key in the door, your movements robotic and seeming somehow separate from you. 

“Hey, you’re home late,” Sirius greets you as you walk through the door. “I was just starting to think about dinner. How would you feel about…shit.” He stops as he comes into the living room, gaze snagging on your legs, dried blood staining them from the knees down. Your shoes, which used to be white but are now a rusty brown. “What happened to you?”

“It’s not mine.” 

“Okay.” He’s still standing a good few feet away, like you’re characters in a play, reciting your lines without moving. “Whose is it?”

“Macy’s.” 

“Alright.” The word is meaningless, but not any more than the rest of them, you suppose. Sirius steps closer, slowly, as if wary of spooking you. “Is she okay?” 

“She, uh.” You swallow. “Yeah, she’s okay. Or she will be. She fell and hit her head, but they said she’ll be okay.” 

“Who said, darling?” 

“The nurses. I just got back from the hospital.” You remember the ambulance ride there, the ridiculous quiet of it all. You’d thought that when someone was hurt that bad, hospitals were all beeping and yelling and people running around. But they’d only asked Macy questions in calm, measured voices, no beeping or alarms to be heard. What did you have to eat today? Do you know why you fell?

“Sweetheart.” Sirius looks gutted, and you don’t know why he’s using that tone with you. You’re not the one who cracked your head open. “You should have called me, lovely. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

“You were at work.” It’s simple, a fact. “Anyway, there was nothing you could do.” 

Sirius takes your face in his hand, and it feels like he’s touching someone else, your skin waxy and foreign. “I would have left work to be there with you. It sounds like it was an awful thing to have to deal with by yourself.” 

You guess it probably was. You’d had to put pressure on Macy’s head until the paramedics got there, kneeling in a pool of her blood as it seeped from the wound and time seemed sluggish and unreal. You know, objectively, that it was one of the more awful experiences you’ve had, and you’ll probably be dreaming about it for years. But it doesn’t feel that way right now. Nothing feels any sort of way right now. 

“How long were you at the hospital for?” Sirius asks. “When did this happen?” 

You don’t know. It was…the sun was still out, when she fell on the sidewalk. But the length of time you were sitting there with her, or the time in the ambulance, is all stretched out and murky. You know you got back to your car and drove home, but you can’t recall any part of the journey. You leave that last bit out of what you tell Sirius, but his frown deepens anyway. 

“That’s okay,” he says. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh? Here, let me take those off.” 

He bends over, untying your shoes for you, and you watch as dried blood flakes off the laces where they bend unwillingly. Sirius doesn’t comment on it, slipping your shoes off one after the other and setting them by the door. His hands are delicate about your shoulders as he steers you into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet. You’re distantly cognizant of him moving about, opening and closing a cabinet and turning on the faucet, but it’s not until he crouches in front of you that he enters your awareness again. 

Sirius takes your ankle in his hand and begins just below your knee, rubbing a warm, wet washcloth over the blood staining the skin there. He’s talking, still, in a low voice, but the murmurings don’t seem to have much importance other than placation. It’s more ambient noise than anything else. He works the washcloth down your leg, the rough fabric scrubbing gently at your skin. He presses harder in some areas where the blood is stubborn, and that’s where you feel it most. The beginnings of real sensation, connected to you rather than some shell that you occupy and that moves when you tell it to. 

By the time he starts on your other leg you feel as though you’ve been thinking through a dense fog that’s beginning to lift; you’re able to feel the warm droplets of water running down your calf and make out some of the quiet words spewing from your boyfriend’s mouth. He finishes with your legs, and you hold up your hands, now trembling again. The blood there is cracked around the lines of your palm, and Sirius takes your hand in his, wiping it away gently. You can feel the cloth even more there, where it brushes against your sensitive fingertips. You can tell now that Sirius is telling you stories, various anecdotes of when he or his friends had gotten hurt. 

“It’s scary to see someone you care about in pain,” he goes on at a murmur. “Even when you know they’ll be alright, I think it hurts worse than when we’re in pain ourselves.” 

A tear dribbles down your cheek, landing with a splat on your thigh, and Sirius looks up, surprise morphing into heartbreak when he sees your expression. He drops the cloth on the floor, rising to an awkward height so that you can put your head against his shoulder when his arms come around you. 

“I know, baby.” His voice sounds almost fragile, as though he’s feeling this as acutely as you are. “I’m so sorry you went through that. Are you feeling a little more like yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you sniff. Your tears are still coming slowly, and you know the majority of your panic is still buried somewhere safe inside of you, but this is enough for now. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s happening to me.” 

Sirius pulls back, thumbing away your tears as he studies your face, eyebrows set close together in concern. “I think you’re in shock, sweetness. It makes sense, that’s a lot for anyone to have to see.” He strokes at your hairline, just beside your eye. “Do you want to talk about it? If not, we don’t have to. We can just watch a movie or something, try to forget about it for tonight.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to find the voice inside yourself that usually tells you who you are, what you want. It’s still quiet, but you think that’s answer enough. “The second one, please. I don’t think I’m ready to think about it yet.” 

“Alright, whatever you want.” Sirius nods, rising and offering you his hands to help pull you up. You take them, and he presses a kiss to your forehead as soon as you’re standing. “Whenever you feel ready, lovely, I’ll be here.” 

[suethh]

summary, you and your brothers bestfriend are in a secret relationship, though as it turns out. subtlety isn’t your strong point.

pairings, brothersbestfriend!sirius x potter!reader

when the two of you first started dating, keeping it a secret seemed like the logical idea.

no crazy protective brother. no gossip. being in your peaceful little bubble with eachother was nice.

but then it got hard. it was hard not to kiss the man that you loved whenever you want, or act as if you didn’t know everything about eachother. act as if it didn’t kill you to see him with other girls vice versa. it was hard.

though the longer you took to go public, the harder it was.

but, as it turns out. basically everyone you had been trying the hardest to keep it from. we’re the ones who had known from the very start. both your older brother and the general public.

the two of you hadn’t been very subtle with excuses.

“sorry i have to go to the bathroom.” — “me too.”

those were not very subtle at all. not only that. both the glances. the longing glances.

plus. as it turns out, hanging out with somebody so much you pick up eachothers mannerisms.

your brother was confused when he hard you make a ‘your mum’ joke.

as months prior you said those jokes were irritating and the most childish jokes to ever come from a man’s mouth. he had a sneaking suspicion that you had got it from his good friend sirius. as he made the jokes the most. but brushed it off. as you changed your mind about things often.

but it was lily who had been the first to know. when she had set you up for a date.

she had remembered you weeks prior complaining about how there were ‘no good bachelors’ suited enough for you. and so she got the best bachelor she knew.

amos diggory. the most wanted man in school. well, second most wanted man in school.

she had asked why and noticed your eyes not so very subtly glance over to a certain grey-eyed boy.

at first she had thought you had a crush on him. and was going to smack you over the head for being so stupid as to fall for the schools ‘biggest player’ but it just so happened he looked back. and smiled the softest smile she had ever seen him smile. his eyes full of the same look yours had. love. she definitely hadn’t been expecting that.

remus was the second to find out. by the map. he had been carelessly chewing on some muggle chocolate watching where everyone went. when he saw the two of you together. in the same corridor— an unusual pair.

and when sirius came back his tie was askew, hair a mess. and he looked like he did whenever he got back from a hookup. he raised his eyebrows when he saw it. he had been with you the whole time.

“another one?” he asked casually. “my favourite one yet.”

and well finally. everyone knew. because of two very meddling plotters.

“ugh. you know that muggle movie lily and you had forced us all to watch— dirty dancing.” remus asks, sirius head shots up. one of his favourite movies had been mentioned. “yes?”

“what’s the girls name again?” the scarred boy asks, feigning curiosity. “it was quite unusual.”

the black-haired boys eyes lit up. “oh i know this one, baby.”

you— who had been reading a book looked up. “yes” you say.

silence.

safe to say you couldn’t make up an excuse for that, and were questioned all night.

your brother wasn’t mad. infact. he couldn’t have been more relieved. claiming he knew you were dating someone. but he didn’t know it would be his bestfriend. who he trusted the most with you.

[suethh]

How about reader fainting at a club/party and (situationship or bf) Sirius gets all protective and worried for the next few days.

Btw love your work ❤️

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~ 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭! 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭. 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟐.𝟕𝐤 (𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭. 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (𝐲𝐚𝐲!) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭).

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Residing on the same strip as The Leaky Cauldron was another small pub with the same purpose: to take wizards into a magical area away from the prying eyes of muggles. Through this pub you would end up in Enigmere, a small town with shops and buildings for witches and wizards to live in. In this small town, you and Sirius Black were roommates in a two-bedroom flat.

The two of you had only met about a year ago, when you saw a posting for a cost effective flat close enough to anywhere you would need to go. When you went for a tour, you met the guy who put up the poster, which happened to be Sirius. He was charming enough for you to agree to tolerate him as a roommate, but shortly after moving in the two of you had become friends. You would often spend the evenings together, eating dinner and sometimes even watching a movie on the couch. 

Sirius most definitely had ulterior motives for hanging out with you at first, wanting to butter you up so that you wouldn’t complain about him constantly having friends or girls over. However, he quickly realized that he genuinely enjoyed your company: maybe a bit more than he should.

You were completely oblivious to his little crush, and you refused to admit that you fancied him too. Well, you refused to admit it until one night when the two of you had one too many drinks in the living room and ended up in a heated snogging session. You didn’t even want to consider how far it would’ve gone if his friends hadn’t barged in at just the right moment. You told him that it was a drunken mistake and he agreed that it shouldn’t have happened.

The next day was painfully awkward, and the two of you couldn’t even look each other in the eye. It had been a week since then, and things had gotten a little less uncomfortable, but not by much. The only time the two of you spoke was when you’d get home from work, and he would greet you and ask about your day. After the small talk, you’d retreat to your room for the night. 

It was Friday night, and you were in your bedroom attempting to unwind after a stressful week. I use the word “attempting” because Sirius knows how to interrupt anything remotely tranquil, and that's exactly what he did. There was a knock at your bedroom door, to which you sighed and reluctantly walked over. You opened the door to be met with the bright and bubbly face of Sirius.

“Hey, Y/n. I didn’t hear you come in.” He looked incredibly captivating, especially with the freshly smudged out eyeliner around his eyes. 

“Hm, I wonder why. It’s not like your music is loud enough to wake the entire building.” You spoke in a teasing tone, which you hadn’t done since the incident.

He chuckled, leaning on your doorframe. “Have you forgotten that I am a master at charming our flat to be soundproof?”

You tried to shake any erotic thought away from your mind at his statement, clearing your throat. “Right. I did forget. Anyways, do you need something?”

“I actually came to ask if you’d like to come with me to a party tonight.” 

You certainly weren’t expecting that. “I think I’ll pass today, Sirius. I’ve had a long week and I want to get some rest.”

“Oh come on. Please? I can’t remember the last time you went somewhere other than work. Besides, James told me to bring you. He’s the one hosting.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “We leave when I say I want to leave.”

“It’s a deal. We’ll get going as soon as you’re ready.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

After a long search through your closet to find a suitable outfit, you sat at your vanity to do some makeup and make an attempt at some eyeliner. You tried your best, but today just wasn’t your day. You had drawn and wiped so many times that your eyes were watery. Sirius walked through your open door at just the right moment, stopping behind you in the mirror. “What is taking so long?”

“I can’t get this stupid eyeliner right.” You sighed, putting the pencil down. 

“You could’ve asked me to do it. Let me help.” He kneeled down to get to eye-level with you, picking up the eyeliner. He began carefully drawing the line, holding your face with his free hand. His cold hand on your warm skin made you all fluttery inside.

“There. Can we go now?” He stood up, placing the eyeliner back on your vanity. 

You nodded, looking at yourself in the mirror before standing up. Sirius looked you up and down, quite obviously checking you out. “You look good, Y/n. I’ve never seen you dressed like this. You should do it more often.”

You felt your face heat up instantly. Was he flirting with you? After he agreed that the kiss shouldn’t have happened? Now you’re more confused than ever. 

“Thanks, Sirius, but these are my party clothes. And I don’t party often, so I won’t be dressing like this often.”

Sirius sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “Alright. Let's get going.”

He grabbed two motorcycle helmets from his bedroom on the way out, casting a disillusionment charm on them to hide them from your view.

The two of you headed down to the parking lot, Sirius leading you to his motorcycle. 

“I am not riding that, Sirius. No way.”

“Oh shut up and get on.” He grinned at you. 

“You don’t even have helmets! We’ll be dead before we can get there.”

He undid the charm on the helmets, offering one to you. You rolled your eyes, taking it from him reluctantly. “If I die, I swear to Merlin himself I will come back and haunt you forever.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He pulled his helmet on, mounting the bike. You sat behind him, holding on to the back of your seat.

“I hate to break it to you, Y/n, but that won’t do. You’re going to have to hold on to me if you want a chance of staying on.”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself.” He smirked to himself, the motorcycle roaring to life. He sped off immediately, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms around him. 

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

After a terrifying yet exhilarating ride through London, Sirius pulled into a small alleyway, turning off the headlight and parking at the end. The two of you got off and Sirius used a disillusionment charm on the motorcycle.

“What are we doing?” You questioned, looking around.

Sirius began patting down the wall, his hand going through it once he found the right spot. “Here. Come on.” He took your hand, pulling you through the wall. 

On the other side of the wall was another alleyway, but with a door at the end of it. You followed him towards the door, and waited as he knocked on it in a specific pattern.

James swung the door open, clearly already tipsy. “Aye, the party has arrived!” He yelled towards the living room behind him before looking back at you and Sirius. “Come on in!” 

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The party got old pretty fast. It wasn’t that you weren’t having a good time, it’s just that your social battery had run out and you were beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. You were sitting on a couch in a random corner where a friend of James was talking your ear off. “I’m sorry, could you just excuse me for a minute?” You asked, offering him a polite smile.

“Oh, of course.” He nodded, smiling back at you before turning and beginning to speak to the person on the opposite side of him.

You made your way through the crowd and into the kitchen, feeling a bit dizzy. You dumped your drink down the sink, filling it with water and taking a few sips. The room felt like it was spinning: the combination of the loud atmosphere, the drinks, and your tiredness from a long day was catching up to you. You wanted to go home, but you didn’t want to pull Sirius away from his friends so early. 

Ultimately, you decided to just find your way out and then attempt to apparate with whatever strength you had left. You stumbled through the party, your vision blurring the more you trudged on. 

The last thing you saw was Sirius’s face before everything went black.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

You woke up to find Sirius leaning over you, gently wiping your makeup off for you. Your head was pounding, and the room seemed far too bright.

“Y/n! Thank Merlin you’re awake. How are you feeling?” Sirius asked in a worried tone. He was sitting beside you on the edge of your bed, holding a cotton pad full of eyeliner residue.

“What the hell happened?” You slowly sat up, looking around the room.

“You passed out at the party and I apparated us home right away. I was lucky to have run into you when I did. I was able to catch you, so no bruises.”

“What about your bike?” 

“Don’t worry about that, Y/n.” He chuckled. “James kept it and will bring it back in the morning. But going back to the previous topic, what happened? You should have told me that you weren’t well.” 

“I just didn’t want to bother you.” You admitted, shrugging.

“We made a deal, remember? We leave when you say it’s time to leave. I would have taken you home happily if it meant it would’ve prevented this.” He shook his head, frowning slightly. “Here, take this. It’ll make you feel better. If you’re still feeling unwell in the morning, I’ll take you to St. Mungos.” He handed you a small potion from your nightstand, watching you down it quickly to avoid the harsh taste. “Oh, and Remus said to give you some chocolate, so here.” He took a chocolate bar out of his pocket, unwrapping it and giving you a piece.

“I appreciate this, Sirius, but I’m honestly alright. I was just tired, that's all. No need to go to the hospital.”

“Are you sure? Because if you aren’t alright then it’s no trouble for me to take you.”

“I’m sure, Sirius. I should get some rest, now.” You laid back down, getting comfortable.

“Very well, then. Just yell if you need anything. I’ll come and check on you in the morning. Goodnight, Y/n.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The next morning, Sirius had woken up earlier than usual just to make sure you were okay. He knocked on your door, opening it slightly when he received no response. He peeked in, seeing that you were still fast asleep. His anxiety kicked in and he decided to get a closer look just to ensure that you were breathing.

He quietly approached the bed, sighing in relief when he saw the slow rise and fall of your chest. Just as he turned to leave, your voice broke the silence.

“Sirius?” You rubbed your eyes, trying to get them to focus on him. 

Since he had practically jumped out of bed the second his “go check on Y/n” alarm went off, he was still in his own pyjamas. Of course, his pyjamas happened to be a pair of plaid pants and no shirt, allowing you to see every single tattoo that was etched onto his back. He turned around to face you again, giving you the perfect view of his front, littered with even more tattoos. 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you? I was just coming to make sure you were okay.” He chuckled nervously. He looked so beautiful in the morning; his tired eyes and messy hair made you feel like fainting all over again.

“...Y/n? Are you feeling better?”

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you nod quickly. “I am. Much better. I told you, I just needed some sleep, that's all. But now I’m starving and need some breakfast.” You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, beginning to get up when Sirius stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“You stay right there. I’ll make something and bring it here.”

“Sirius, I’m fi-”

He cut you off with a sassy finger in your face. “Don’t argue. I’m not taking any risks.” Without another word, he rushed off to the kitchen.

A little while later, Sirius came into your room with a tray of breakfast. He placed it in your lap, grinning proudly. The eggs were a bit burnt, and the toast was hard, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“Thank you.’ You smiled up at him before looking down at the food.

“Of course.” He turned to exit, but you stopped him this time. 

“Aren't you going to eat with me?” You questioned.

“Would you like me to?”

“Of course.” You shifted over, patting the spot next to you.

“Let me grab my plate, then.” He disappeared into the kitchen again, coming back with his own food a minute later. Two cups of coffee carefully floated behind him, each one landing on the nightstands on either side of the bed.

“Other than saving a damsel in distress, how was your night?” You asked, picking up your coffee and taking a sip.

“…Can I be honest with you, Y/n?” He set his plate down on the nightstand, turning to you. 

“Of course you can. Always.” 

“I hate this dynamic we have. Absolutely loathe it.” He stated, crossing his arms. 

You stared at him, completely caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I know that I agreed when you said that kiss was a mistake, but honestly, I just said that so you wouldn’t feel weird about it. I wanted to kiss you that night. Hell, I want to kiss you every night. I’ve never cared for someone as deeply as I care about you, Y/n. I left my bike in an alleyway for you, surely that must prove something. And the worry I felt last night was unlike any other. I could hardly sleep from the anxiety.”

You were speechless. You couldn’t think, yet there were a thousand thoughts running through your mind at the same time. 

“Don’t tell me that you don’t feel the same way, because I know you do. I mean, you quite literally fell for me last night. I’m just not sure why you won't admit it.” 

“I’m scared, that’s why.”

“Why are you scared, darling?” He inquired. The adoration in his eyes was enough to melt every worry away. 

“We live together. If things don’t work out, I don’t want to have to move out, and I know you won’t move out either, but if we both stay it’ll be so awkward. And I don’t want to get my heart broken by you. I’ve already felt enough heartache just from seeing women walk out of your room on random mornings, and I can’t imagine how much worse it would feel if we were together and something went wrong-“

Sirius cut you off by taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips against yours. Despite the rough gesture, he kissed you with such tenderness and care. After a few moments, he pulled away, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Nothing will go wrong. What good would it do to throw what we have away over fears of something that hasn't even happened? We won’t know what’ll happen until we try, Y/n.” He assured you, taking your hand.

“And you’re sure you won’t miss the spontaneous life that you’re so used to?”

“Ever since you moved in, every girl I’ve ever brought home hasn't been good enough. You know why? Because they aren’t you. I’ve never experienced something so frustrating, but I want you, and only you. So please, just give me a chance. I promise you won’t regret it-“

You cut him off with a light peck on the lips, followed by a warm smile.  

“Alright, Sirius. Let’s give it a try, then.” 

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞! 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

[suethh]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mentions of drugs/drug dealing, alcohol consumption, and mentions of sexual favors.

Eddie Munson always liked talking about you.

When in situations as such—slumped into the worn couch with his legs spread wide, and an arm over the back to accommodate the red solo cup filled with the bourbon liquid in hand—pointing you out to whichever friend of his was closest, so his buddy could get a view of what he got to lavish in a couple times a week. And they didn't.

Because you'd never do that to him. No matter the lack thereof label, you'd never betray him. And Eddie Munson really liked that.

On the humid spring night, Reefer Rick had just escaped his four year conviction of Indiana's statute of limitation on drug possession. Defying the advice of his parole officer, a party had been sought out in the crowded woods of Lover Lake to welcome his newfound freedom.

Being the tightest of buddies, you knew Eddie would be in attendance. And he knew you knew he'd be there. It was your coyness of avoiding his presence that made you that much more alluring, pissing him off in the best way possible; lip-bitingly enticing.

So when you were in the kitchen, speaking to some nobody, Eddie and his friend would watch. His buddy's eyes following the curve of your body, as Eddie detailed just how much you were willing to do for a free exchange of weed, but only for him. Eddie would pick up on how his friend's breath would hitch, as he spoke about the innocence of it starting out with a kiss to you hungrily bouncing on him until the night bled dark. "God, she's my special little customer." He'd groan in his friend ear, because nothing spurred him on more than the fact that he got to revel in what all the other guys wanted.

Because he had you, and you had him.

And what was his friend's name again? Oh, yeah... Steve Harrington. The notorious king known to have women wrapped around his finger. So maybe that's why talking to Steve turned him on a bit more than usual. Sure the man was undeniably pretty (that'd be a discussion for another day), but seeing Steve salivate for you was quite incredible when you'd want nothing to do with the ladies man, because standing in front of you was Eddie Munson, your something.

Despite the filled cup in hand, Eddie slapped Steve's chest to derail his attention away from you. "Come on, need a drink." It was very obvious that that was never the agenda, when Eddie steps had fallen straight to your path. "Havin' an awful lotta fun, aren't you?" You heard his baritone voice speak to you, as he perched himself against the kitchen counter next to you.

As if on cue, your friend knew to leave you be. And, of course, you beamed at him, nodding your head as you took a sip of your drink, letting your eyes cast upon him. "Havin' fun ignorin' me?" He smugly looked down on you.

Your head leaned seductively. "I'm not ignoring you." While taking him in, your eyes landed behind him, falling on the looming figure of Steve Harrington, where you watched his eyes rake you down before meeting you.

Eddie watched from his peripheral, grinning with a smile on his face as he restrained himself from hurting his friend. His jealously evident in his sudden bluntness. "You like Harrington?" Steve, of course, smirked.

Your attention fell back on Eddie, and it irked him just how easily you caught on to his possessiveness. "No." And there it was. The big, fat ego boost that made his cock twitch.

Men were really weird. The insult had, for whatever reason, Steve Harrington smiling down at you. "Well, that's just not fair." He ticked. "You guys can't have fun, if I can't."

"There're lots of other pretty girls around here." You offered. Eddie chuckled, slamming a rough hand to Steve shoulder. "Lots of other pretty girls." He patronized with a shit-eating grin.

Steve scoffed, playfully flipping him the bird as an unspoken "you win" to the man who got to have you, before leaving you two to be. Eddie's arms managed to cage you against the counter, before his lips met your ear. "I really don't like you ignorin' me, sweetheart." He scolded you.

You whined with jutted lips. "I wasn't." A lie to entice him. Eddie looked you in the eye. "I don't like guys lookin' at you, either." You rolled your own, peering behind you to the crowd of people invading Reefer Rick's house.

"No one is-"

"Oh, but they are, baby." He was quick to coo at you. "See, you're just this pretty, little thing, you don't know how filthy guys think. But believe me, baby," his forehead leaned against yours, "I do."

You quieted your voice. "And... what do you think?"

"What do I think? Well, I think I got this pretty girl in front of me, who I kiss, and, y'know... touch," he huffed his breath against your lips, "and I think that I don't like the idea of some other fucking guy gettin' to do the same." He spat sternly. "So what the fuck does that make you?"

Your breath heaved. "Um, y-you're girlfriend?"

"My girlfriend, yeah, that's right." He nodded.

"Are you asking me?" You questioned him. His lips crashed down before you could think, letting his taste of the alcohol he abandoned just to speak to you, invade your mouth. A connection so deep, his work had you moaning against him, as his hand indented the back of your neck to keep you from leaving him.

Eddie Munson was eating you alive. "No. I'm telling you."

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | When has a situationship ever ended nicely? Never. So here you go, happiness.