#i need to know about his previous teammates

[logan-lieutenant]

goodbye to a world

reading between the lines of the various goodbyes and dismissals to logan sargeant

Pt. 3: Oscar (press conference)

full series

not a goodbye (in the traditional sense of the word) but a fucking statement. obviously. because piastri.

the loscar dynamic is absolutely FASCINATING. out of all the friendships in the grid, this one plays a special role: it reminds the audience that there’s so much more than formula 1, there’s so much more to f1 drivers than this stage of their career. most of us (spectators) have a broad conception of the “typical” driver backstory; rich kid with rich parents, got in a go kart at age 4, karting and then single-seater and junior series was their whole life and they climbed up the ranks like rungs on a ladder. i think a lot of people who only watch f1 (myself included) tend to focus so much more on the Pinnacle of MotorsportTM that everything else just seems like prep. even though most if not all of the drivers grew up either 1) racing each other 2) watching each other on tv, we don’t really think of these relationships beyond and BEFORE f1.

until loscar. because what draws them together? they’re not teammates. they’re not rivals. williams is so far behind that they’re not even competitors. in many way, logan is entirely “out of oscar’s league”.

and yet they have this endearing, sweet, playful friendship that’s exactly what it seems like: people who have known each other since they were kids, grown up together, watched each other become the person they are today. there’s a casual, domestic intimacy neither of them have with their teammates, even if those relationships are also going well, because there’s this history element.

which is recalled no more vividly than when oscar and logan are compared. as they are too often.

total polar opposites. f1 stories practically the inverse of each other. one was a promising young talent who f1 teams had been keeping an eye on for years that, once thrown in the car at that “wait! isn’t he just a kid??” age, immediately proved his worth as a future superstar. Future World Champion, to quote the official moniker. “look at him go! look at OSCAR PIASTRI!” he’s a prodigy, he’s a social enigma, he’s a raw force of pure and driven talent.

then you have the other promising young talent who one f1 team had been keeping a loose eye on for years. who’s never done any free practices or tests. who’s barely even dipped his toe into the waters of f2. who’s shown a lot of raw potential but more noticeably, glittering fancy sponsors. who gets chucked into a car as a last-minute, scrapping underprepared and thrown-together plan B after the previous f2 graduate fails to keep his seat. and, while oscar soared off into the stratosphere, logan flops IMMEDIATELY.

go fucking figure. it’s almost like people like max verstappen and lewis hamilton are exceptions to the rule, not the rule itself, and an underprepared rushed overwhelmed rookie is actually NOT in a position to achieve immediate stardom! in fact, maybe that’s the OPPOSITE of what they need! so, in loscar, we have the exception to the rule (oscar) and the rule (logan). but that’s not the solidified narrative; the story, how history will remember the two of them, is that logan was nothing but a pale and washed-out shadow. always. open and shut case.

what does oscar have to say about it, though?

this was said to gp blog (great website); the full quotes from him are:

I sent him a text yesterday. He seemed okay. Obviously a little bit of a shock. Obviously it wasn't an easy time for him in F1. It was much more difficult for him than maybe I expected it to be going into F1. I think for me, his potential was much greater than what was on show in F1, for whatever reason it might be.

I know firsthand, being his teammate in the junior categories, racing him in basically everything, I know how quick he is. I don't think the change was completely unexpected...

Best of luck to him. Just a shame that, for whatever reason, he wasn't able to show everything that he's got. Because in the junior categories, he was genuinely one of the quickest guys I went up against. I think his potential is much greater than what some people have seen.

first of all, some BEAUTIFUL toeing-the-line from oscar here. he’s even more subtle than alex in that none of his words imply any sort of passive aggression or ill intent; the only emotion that’s really conveyed, in understated tones, is a mild perplexity about logan’s career and failure in general as opposed to its gut-wrenching end in question. the implications in his wording imply nothing more than a personal opinion, but the ambiguity itself is some massive shade. let’s take a closer look:

much more difficult for him than maybe i expected it to be- this is masterful. “yeah, that’s right. i’m the next-gen prodigal superstar talent with my future as a world champion pretty much written for me, and i’ve shown the skill to back it up, and not only did i know logan before the catastrophe of f1 but i regarded him with so much respect that i had actual expectations. his skill had become such an intertwined part of his character in my eyes that i just assumed things would go so much better. because i believed in him.”

his potential was much greater than what was on show in f1…- toeing the line again. balance. acknowledging both the reality and all the roads not taken. “i’m not making false claims. i’m not making excuses for him. i’m not blaming the car or the team or the lack of support or the disgrace or the mistreatment and i’m not challenging the results. i’m not talking about what happened, i’m talking about what could’ve happened. potential. i’m talking about everything that wasn’t on show– and by not on show i mean that his potential, his skill, his pace, him as a person was not seen or understood or respected or prioritized by anyone. i’m not saying ‘oh, one point in 36 starts is all anyone could do with x/y/z excuse’ i’m saying ‘you guys missed the point’.”

for whatever reason that might be/just a shame that, for whatever reason- fucking hell, this is harsh. this is practically an attack. “i’m not gonna make excuses, but i’m gonna leave this open. i’m not gonna call this bad luck or the way it goes sometimes or a bad break, i’m saying that Whatever Reason This Happened is not what should have happened. not a matter of chance or objective misfortune; this situation could have and should have worked out better and whatever obstacle got in the way of that was a matter of misjudgment.”

I know firsthand, being his teammate in the junior categories, racing him in basically everything, I know how quick he is- alex said something similar, about pace. “raw speed” he calls it. and it’s really interesting that his teammates, who learn firsthand about him as a racer, his driving style, his strengths, his weaknesses (whether they’ve been teammates for months or years) identify a specific trait/skill about logan rather than just making the empty claim that “he’s good” or “he’s better than this”. and this is very interesting coming from oscar in particular given his current teammate. lando isn’t the best starter or the best defender or the most coordinated overtaker, but even with all the areas he needs to work on he can still compensate for it by being really fucking fast. his pace is his defense; he gets clean air and boom, he’s fucking gone. obviously that’s an oversimplification but oscar directly competing against that and observing/absorbing that and bringing up the same category of skill in logan– even in flashback– can’t be overlooked. in addition: “yeah, i’ve raced against him in basically everything. you’ve watched him on tv in a backmarker team for a season or so? i’ve known him for YEARS. i know. i don’t care what you’re seeing, i’m the expert on this and i know.”

I think his potential is much greater than what some people have seen- shit, this is as close to passive aggression as he gets, but it’s still done so precisely and subtly that it’s almost an art form. i mean, leave it to oscar piastri to use the phrase “some people” and NOT make it sound like a straight up, poorly-veiled callout. try to use that in a sentence without seeming like you’re shit-talking someone, potentially in the room. this is part of the lovely passive-aggression classic: “….unlike SOME people” (sometimes while staring at them directly, depending on how passive you want the passive aggression to really be. so, he’s (in unofficial terms) calling out who– anyone who hasn’t seen logan’s potential. who have underestimated him. who have invalidated his situation and him as an athlete. this could be any category of haters– negative fans, petty journalists, the horrid type of reports who will ask questions like “what does it feel like to be the slowest driver in formula 1…”. and that would make perfect sense. almost perfect. if we thought oscar piastri paid any attention to the haters, his own or anyone else’s. if it was ever on his mind. so, people who haven’t seen his potential… what, like, team principals? the ambiguity in itself is simultaneously a direct implication and oscar piastri’s intelligence needs to be studied because it is sometimes terrifying.

oscar doesn’t make a statement on social media, doesn’t bring it up further, doesn’t make any sort of personal goodbye available to the media– of course he wouldn’t, not just because that’s incredibly private but also because he’s oscar and he’s basically kimi raikkonen (in this analogy lando is sunshine boy seb but that’s an idea for another post). oscar’s whole public image is that he doesn’t want to have a public image. he doesn’t give the media any more parts of himself than he’s contractually obligated to. what he does give is concise, serious, the strongest points in the fewest words. and because of the enigmatic, tantalizing nature of that approach paired with the fact that he’s a fucking brilliant driver, people listen to what he has to say.

so oscar has a lot more weight to throw around than alex. alex’s image is that he’s a cuddly sunshiney cat dad who is a living anomaly in that he’s a good driver and a total sweetheart at once. whether or not what he says comes from the heart (it does. he’s alex) the reaction can always be “awww look at alex he’s such a nice guy :)” and the focus is on the kindness of the gesture/praise/respect itself rather than what alex is actually saying. so if alex says logan had more potential, that’s alex being alex.

if oscar says logan had more potential, that’s a fucking statement. and if the media wasn’t coming for JV’s head at this point, oscar just gave them a diagram for how to build a guillotine.

beautiful.

[senseearly]

Thinking about this very panel, when it was said that Mithrun wanted a peaceful life with his friends and beloved, and the friends that were shown here were his first (previous is probably the more accurate term) squad:

From top left to bottom right (these are my guesses, based on the panels we had of the other Canary members):

Nils (convict)

Sita probably (warden)

Mithrun (warden)

Unknown canary (convict)

Coyote (convict)

Unknown canary (convict)

It's so interesting to me that his own squad is what he considered his friends. Not that it's bad, but you'd think that other people in Mithrun's life would show up in this panel (tho chimera-fied because the demon is not strong enough to poof the actual people up in the dungeons). It could mean two things: 1) he never was able to make friends with other people, particularly those in his own standing (other nobles in elven noble society); 2) no matter how much he judges his own canary peers, I think he cared for his own squad very deeply, enough that he'd offer refuge for them in the dungeon. And I think they do care for him too, since we're shown here that they're just dining with him despite the fact that he is now a dungeon lord.

(I don't think they're under a spell or made to stay by force. And I do think that they know at this time Mithrun is already relegated as dungeon lord when it was like forbidden by their regulations x100 times)

Much like what happened to Thistle, Delgal, Yaad, and the rest of the Golden Country citizens, a fallout between all of them was inevitable. Mithrun was getting unstable because of the demon's influence; the demon keeps chipping away onto his desires, subtle enough that Mithrun doesn't notice. Either his squad members have noticed and tried to convince him to go out, or just wanted all of them to make it out of the dungeon. Maybe they got in the crossfire against gold strippers or the other Canaries that were stuck in the dungeon.

Rip, unknown Canary :(

I know that in Kabru's re-telling of MIthrun's story, knowing the other characters weren't relevant. As Kabru said, there were just too many of them, and making everything complicated. But I think it's a nice but subtle touch to Mithrun's past and character, that the very main thing he wished for is to have a peaceful and simple life with his loved ones.

I wonder at some point during his dungeon lord days, if Mithrun had said similar lines.

[mclqren]

THE LECLERC CHRONICLES ★ F1 GRID

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!younger sister!reader ; f1 grid x fem!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you're the younger sister of charles leclerc, and your relationship with the rest of the f1 grid has the internet going crazy [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing, use of the word 'slut'

NOTES ✦ let's pretend the dog i used looks relatively like leo!! reader is 22 years old, and the youngest leclerc sibling. the fc i've used is lexi jayde, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are closed. i acc love writing for this series no joke.

SERIES ✦ the leclerc chronicles masterlist ; previous part ; next part

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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 745,109 others

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

yourusername to summarise: these sunglasses were the best investment, i am THE GOAT at bowling, and im planning on stealing alex from my brother. 😘

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user1 Y/NNN MY FAV LECLERC

user2 SO REALLL

user3 how are you not jet lagged rn

yourusername believe me i am (can't wait for japan though!)

user4 so like does she work orrrr

user5 she's an influencer babe?

charles_leclerc that's my girlfriend??

yourusername not anymoreee!!

alexandrasaintmleux im sorry baby, i didnt want you to find out this way 😔

charles_leclerc this isn't fair ☹️☹️

yourusername boo hoo life's not fair mate get over it

landonorris pretty sure i beat you at bowling though???

oscarpiastri so did i??

yourusername listen yeah the australian bowling lanes are a bit wonky so that's why i lost. otherwise i would've owned BOTH OF YOU

lilyzneimer i beat y/n too but i love her too much to be rude to her 🩷

yourusername this is why ur my favorite lily, instead of ur rat of a boyfriend & his teammate

landonorris im sorry?

yourusername BOO MCLAREN 👎👎 FORZA FERRARI ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc you are awful at bowling y/n but FORZA FERRARI ❤️

maxverstappen1 the one thing you could probably beat me at ☹️

yourusername get used to it verstappen 😘 LECLERC 🔛🔝

maxverstappen1 yeah but who's won 3 f1 championships 🤔

yourusername watch yeah put me in a racecar and you're officially done mr verstappen ‼️

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 801,333 others

yourusername ticked another city off the bucket list today! 愛してるよ東京 🩷 ( i love you tokyo )

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user6 Y/N IN JAPAN WOOHOOO

user7 seeing y/n in japan makes me so happy idk

user8 she's living her best life fr!!

charles_leclerc the second photo was taken moments before disaster 😘

georgerussell63 WHAT HAPPENED

yourusername charles marc hervé perceval leclerc don't you dare.

charles_leclerc she dropped her sandwich in the koi pond and they all ate it 🤷‍♂️

yourusername WHY ARE YOU EXPOSING ME CHARLES. IT WAS EMBARRASSING ENOUGH. FUCK YOU.

georgerussell63 that's not THAT bad y/n but also your name is so long charles??

charles_leclerc tell me about it ☹️

yukitsunoda loved getting sushi with you y/n!!

yourusername YUKIII WE NEED TO DO IT AGAIN i swear you know all the best spots

landonorris sushi 🤮

yourusername mr norris you have the palate of a five year old boy now shut up before i remove your ipad privileges ❤️

logansargeant third pic goes harddd wonder who took it 😍

yourusername thanks logie much appreciated babes 💋💋

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 856,210 others

tagged charles_leclerc, pierregasly

yourusername last slide is very much true, coming from a very credible source (me). loved being in japan this week, すぐに戻ってきます ❤️ ( i'll be back soon )

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user9 sometimes i forget that y/n is monegasque as well

user10 NO REAL

user11 THE RED THEMEEE LOVE!!

user12 the last slide HELPPP

user13 everyone say THANK YOU Y/N for the charles crumbs

user14 THANK YOU Y/N WE LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU MORE THAN YOU KNOW 💋

charles_leclerc the last slide y/n 🤣

yourusername @/pierregasly my favorite bromance 👊

pierregasly thanks for the love y/n 🤣❤️

landonorris photo credits? 📷☹️

yourusername not needed after the little stint you pulled today ☝️

oscarpiastri lets normalise giving context 😊😊😊

yourusername someone (naming no names) CHEATED at uno.

landonorris I DIDNT KNOW YOU COULDNT KEEP CARDS FOR SAFEKEEPING

yourusername IN WHAT GAME CAN YOU KEEP CARDS FOR SAFEKEEPING??

oscarpiastri yeah...the no photo creds was deserved

yourusername

( caption one: ferrari girls on film 🏎️ + tags | caption two: to all the haters saying i can't bowl, guess who just fucking won!! @/charles_leclerc you are a WEAK opponent 👎 )

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 799,012 others

tagged charles_leclerc, lec

yourusername i hereby declare that this ice cream brand is officially y/n certified (coming from ice cream's no.1 fan). now go support my brother or wtv 🍦😜

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user15 AWWW Y/N SUPPORTING CHARLES

user16 my fav siblings ever 🫶🫶

user17 THE ICE CREAM LOOKS SO NICE CANT WAITT TO BUY

charles_leclerc thanks for the free advertisement y/n 😊😊

yourusername you're welcome cha!! (i'll act like you didn't ask me to do this 😊)

charles_leclerc shhh y/n that's meant to be a secret!

yourusername whoops?? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

landonorris if you advertise my quadrant merch in the future i'll give you a papaya paddock pass? 👐👐

yourusername unfortunately y/n leclerc's services extend to that of her immediate family only. if you have any issues with the above, don't message me about them!

landonorris why are you speaking like someone else y/n

yourusername so i sound more fancy

alexandrasaintmleux something delicious is in this post and it's not the ice cream 🤤

yourusername MY WIFE 😘😘

charles_leclerc not the public flirting AND being rude about my ice cream ☹️☹️

yourusername hahahaha sucks to be you rn 🫵

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 901,221 others

yourusername "i've only had leo for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself"

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user18 Y/N IS A B99 FAN CONFIRMED??

user19 THE BEST SHOWWW

user20 LEO IS THE CUTESTTT

user21 auntie y/n babysitting omg 🥺🥺

yourusername stop it rn auntie makes me sound so old 😔😔

user21 OMG SHE REPLIED?!

charles_leclerc my baby 🥺

yourusername im planning on stealing him from you at some point 😘

charles_leclerc im sorry?? first my girlfriend now my dog??

yourusername stay on high alert charles nothing is safe around me 🚨🚨

lilymhe cutie 😉😉

yourusername YOUUUU!!

alex_albon the dog's cuter

yourusername 'the dog' has a NAME albon, and you're just jealous your girlfriend prefers me to you!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 822,122 others

yourusername 上海之夜 🌃 ( shanghai nights )

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user22 Y/N IN SHANGHAI FOR THE GP??

user23 I LOVE YOU Y/NNNN

user24 does she go to every race?

user25 she said on an interview once that she tries to attend every race & flies with her brother (& sometimes his girlfriend alex) whenever she does go to them! she couldn't make jeddah this year because she had other commitments at the time, but she tries to go to most of them!

user26 Y/N LECLERC IS THAT A MAN IN UR SECOND PIC??

user27 SOFT LAUNCH MAYBEEE??

charles_leclerc y/n i don't recognise that second pic? 🤔🤔

yourusername charles calm down it's literally a friend

charles_leclerc why not tag him then??

yourusername as a nice FRIEND, i actually value his life so im trying to save him from you, arthur and lorenzo ❤️

lance_stroll I MISS YOU

lance_stroll this is marilou by the way ive lost my own phone 😔

yourusername MARILOUUU MY ANGELLL I LOVE YOU!! leave ur boyfriend for me

lance_stroll y/n im back what is this.

yourusername idc about you tell marilou to come over

iamrebeccad in awe of you forever 🤩

yourusername love you becca ❤️

imessages ( y/n )

maxverstappen1

( caption: pov - mr world champion x3 gets his phone robbed by a 22 year old girl who enjoys harassing people on the daily 😘 [...] @/yourusername FOLLOW ME NOWWWW (please) )

yourusername

( caption: me when max asks me why i stole his phone, promoted my instagram account and then left [...] @/maxverstappen1 sorry about that 😬💗 )

imessages ( y/n )

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 800,100 others

yourusername cali this week, miami next ✈️

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user28 i swear i'd sell my soul to live your life y/n

user29 she's actually stunninggg

user30 Y/NNN MY ANGEL FR

user31 hottest leclerc (real)

georgerussell63 you after stalking me and carmen to california??

landonorris SORRY?

yourusername okay guys lets clear up the rumours!! 😁😁 i actually got invited to an EVENT in california, and george and carmen happened to be there, so like yes, i have been with them but i did NOTTT stalk them guys im not about that lifestyle

georgerussell63 yeah but like how do i know you're not watching me while i sleep 🤔

yourusername that's the whole beauty of it, you'll never EVER know 😁

carmenmmundt come over please george is annoying me

yourusername omw bbg 😘😘

georgerussell63 betrayal 101

alexandrasaintmleux missing you rn 😔😔

charles_leclerc you're literally with me right now??

alexandrasaintmleux yeah and im missing your sister??

yourusername I LOVE YOU ALEX im seeing you soon trust

logansargeant come to miami quicker you promised i could show you all the best spots :(

yourusername I SWEAR IM ON MY WAY LOGANNN

logansargeant

( caption: i let y/n in my house and the first thing she does is pull out her diary to document our day [...] @/yourusername least you could do is say "thanks for letting me in" ☹️ )

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 835,100 others

tagged logansargeant

yourusername bro said "i know a spot" and took me to a lake.

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user32 THE CAPTION SCREAMINGGG

user33 that's so logan i actually cant HELP

user34 the second pic 🤣

user35 y/n after third wheeling:

charles_leclerc so this is why you wouldn't go on a walk with me

yourusername maybe i shouldve gone on that walk idk, logan is a bit of a reckless boat driver

logansargeant IM NOT??

yourusername logan babe, we were coming up to a rock and you shouted 'land ahoy', i have reason to be scared ❤️

oscarpiastri HELP LAND AHOY?? ARE YOU A PIRATE LOGAN

logansargeant IT WAS A JOKE OKAY PARDON ME FOR MY HUMOR

yourusername 'pardon me' aren't we getting posh!

logansargeant dont lie you had a great time

yourusername define "great time"...because i sat there and sunbathed for like three hours while you caught a couple of 'beauties'

logansargeant and then you ate one of those beauties for dinner??

yourusername best part of the entire thing your mom makes a mean fish yum yum 😋😋

user36 AW SHE WENT TO HIS HOUSE

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 900,221 others

tagged landonorris, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

yourusername LANDO NOWINS BRCOMES LANDO WIQH WINSSSS 😁😁🏆🏆 so hqppy for you rihht now, and for max & charles and their podium!! ❤️

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user37 reason no.1209212 as to why y/n is the best:

user38 THIS POST AWWW

user39 the way she's so proud of him and her brother 🥺🥺

user40 and max!!

landonorris couldn't have a post without charles and max featuring huh 😔

yourusername unfortunately charles IS my brother, and max IS my friend as well, so im legally obliged to celebrate with both of them too

landonorris yeah but...my first win ☹️

yourusername next win trust i'll dedicate an entire post to you babes ❤️

charles_leclerc the spelling y/n 🤣🤣

yourusername I WAS DRUNK OKAY BLAME MAX

maxverstappen1 BLAME ME HUH

yourusername YOU GOT ME DRUNK MATE

charles_leclerc absolutely shocking behaviour from a world champion

yourusername RIGHT??

maxverstappen1 how come i never get these sort of posts when i win

yourusername would you like one next time maxie?? 😁

maxverstappen1 please 😔

yourusername watch its coming 🔥🔥🔥

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TAGS ✦ @willowpains ; @landossainz ; @charlesgirl16 ; @mellowarcadefun ; @bearryyyy ; [ respond under this post OR the main page for this series to be added to the taglist for 'the leclerc chronicles'! ]

[thef1diary]

Baby Jr | One

— Friendly Banter

Series summary: The teasing, fleeting touches became much more on the night Carlos won, the sexual tension between you two reached a breaking point. Perhaps it was that night, or the many nights that followed, but you were pregnant with his child, putting you in a difficult situation.

Series Masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

Warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut yet

wc: 2.9k

Note: here it is, the first chapter of many more to come. lemme know what you think, feedback is always appreciated.

You had caught the eye of a certain Ferrari driver from the moment you joined the team. He always looked at you in fascination, having the urge to find a way to figure you out but that's all it was for the longest time. Until it wasn't.

Carlos Sainz vividly remembers the first time he set his eyes on you. He was on his way to leave the headquarters in Maranello while you were on your way inside. Carlos' gaze was watchful, almost heavy with judgment as you hurried in through the doors with more items in your arms than you should've been able to carry.

He almost stopped you to ask who you were, but he noticed the badge clipped onto your jeans, media personnel. You had already passed him before he could read your name, and shook his head knowing that your name was the more important detail compared to your role.

You hadn't noticed him that day, but he noticed you.

He didn't see you again until the new season came around, having almost forgotten about your brief encounter at the end of the previous year. He had to do a double take once he saw you setting up the cameras for some content he was supposed to record along with his teammate.

It was a simple video that required the drivers to answer a few questions sent in by their fans, something that should've been easy since they've done it before. But he couldn't focus on anything but you. Given that you were the ones asking the questions, reading them off the short stack of cards you had in your hand, he wasn't outed for being distracted.

Knowing the drivers still had a busy day ahead of them, you began packing up the items once the video was filmed. Keeping your eyes locked on the task, you expected the drivers to be led away by their PR managers, so you were surely startled once you heard a voice acknowledging you.

Carlos stayed back, and roaming your gaze for a split second behind him, Charles had left. You knew who he was of course, after all you followed the sport for many years before you were given the opportunity to work for one of the teams.

"I don't think we properly met, I'm Carlos." He extended his hand out and you gladly accepted, shaking it while introducing yourself. You found it sweet that despite being one of the two faces of the team, he still introduced himself like you didn't know who he was.

As a junior media employee who was still relatively new to the team, you were informed in advance that you would rarely be interacting with the drivers.

So it wasn't surprising that while working in the same team, you rarely saw Carlos in person. Working under Silvia—the head of communications—you would usually be the one tasked to edit the challenge videos, creating enough content from various footage to keep the fans engaged. The few times you did see him in person was to conduct media challenges that the team planned every once in a while to give the fans a chance to know the drivers underneath their helmets.

As the season went on, you found that you were indeed given the wrong information; you did in fact meet the drivers again and again. You were given many opportunities to travel with the team, and it would've been absurd if you denied those opportunities—not that you had a choice since you were needed at almost every race.

You were glad to experience the thrill of Formula 1 from the front row seats, able to watch all the sessions in the weekend itself but also be a part of the journey with the drivers that not many people get to see.

It was inevitable to befriend many people along the way, especially with their welcoming nature despite some news outlets suggesting otherwise. Formula 1 could be considered as one giant family that obviously had issues every once in a while but no one outside of the sport could relate to them like each other. Especially since it was described like a traveling circus by a few drivers.

While you had befriended many other employees whether it was within your team or others, you also spoke to the other eighteen drivers often.

But no other driver invaded your thoughts like Carlos did.

You didn't know if you were overthinking it all, but you believed that Carlos was a tad bit too friendly compared to Charles or even any other driver for that matter.

Whether it was a compliment that left you a blushing mess, a lingering look that followed you until you left the room, or even a small graze of his fingers against your back while crossing your path, you couldn't think of anyone but him lately.

You heard a Monégasque accent calling your name and you slowed your pace, allowing him to catch up to you as you greeted without needing to look to see who it was, "Charles"

"Here, it's still hot," he was holding two disposable cups of coffee in his hands, extending one towards you.

You gestured to your own hands, carrying one too many things again.

He sighed, "I still don't know how you do that." He stopped walking as he neared a surface to put down the cups. "Here, give it to me," he spoke but didn't let you make a decision as he grabbed the various folders, a clipboard, and a tablet from your hands. You were still holding on to a tripod and a camera but he freed up one of your hands so you could hold the cup.

"I will have to let you know, that tablet you're holding, is very valuable to the team," you stated, mainly in a joking manner because you knew he wouldn't do anything to it.

"Oh is it now? What's on it?" Charles asked once you resumed walking, this time sipping on your coffee before answering his question. "First, perfect," you hummed, gesturing towards the cup. "Second, it has all the schedules for meetings, interviews, and everything that you or Carlos could possibly need a reminder for during the weekend."

He gasped, almost offended, "I do not need reminders for anything during the weekend, not like Carlos does."

Despite how it may seem, your role didn't entail being a driver's assistant. In fact your job was to manage a few social media accounts and create content that included the drivers as much as possible but every now and then you also helped the company keep the public images of the drivers reputable.

Lately, Carlos had been finding reasons to talk to you, and most of that time would be spent reviewing his schedule multiple times throughout the day.

"He can be a little forgetful sometimes," you commented but Charles shook his head.

"A little? He needed you to remind him what time the race was."

You grimaced, knowing Charles was correct. "Well, you're his teammate so you know him better than I do."

"Yeah, I guess I'll ask him, thanks for the coffee," Charles stated as you two entered a meeting room. There were still fifteen minutes before it started, but you preferred to use that time so you could prepare yourself for all the notetaking it usually required. Since you were still a fairly new employee, you wanted to absorb all the information like a sponge.

Confused, you responded back, "you're the one who got the coffee."

He placed the items he was holding on the table, then noticing the time on his watch, a brief gasp overtaking his expression. "Thanks for the company then, I'll see you later," he playfully winked like he always did before leaving the room.

Moments later, a knock distracts you from reviewing the previous notes and stats from the last meeting. Thinking it was Charles, you ask, "did you forget somet- oh, Carlos."

"Are you busy?" He asks as he leans his forearms on the back of a chair. Shaking your head you respond, "not really, what's up?"

"I forget how crazy the crowds can get outside, so can I stay here for a few minutes?" You smile, "of course you can, come sit." He rolled a chair out and sighed in relief after finally getting off his feet.

Carlos closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the moments of silence in his hectic life. It didn't last long as you hummed a random tune which you usually did while working. It was so faint but since it was completely silent otherwise, Carlos' ears perked up as he heard it.

Instead of looking for the moments of silence he thought he needed earlier to even do a simple task as breathing, Carlos leaned forward with his usual watchful gaze focused on you. "Are you planning on more ways for us to make a fool out of ourselves?" He asked.

You chuckled, "I would never do that." Carlos gave you a look that indicated he didn't believe you.

"The last challenge was planned by you, no?" He countered and when you sheepishly smiled, he knew he was correct.

"You know, Charles is right," you spoke after a few moments of silence.

"How so?" He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head for a moment that almost caused you to lose track of your thoughts. You've gotten better at keeping yourself calm and collected around Carlos lately, but you still took a little moment to appreciate how his muscles flexed in the full sleeved shirt he wore.

"There's a team debrief happening in about five minutes where you're needed, and it's a bit of a walk so I'm wondering if you're gonna reach in time." To confirm your words, he glanced at his watch, raising his eyebrows when he realized you were spot on.

"You know my schedule so well now," he couldn't help but comment, chuckling as he did so.

"Only because you forget it," you retaliated.

"Maybe I do that on purpose," he stood up, once again stretching to the point where the hem of his shirt raised a bit, revealing a sliver of skin that your gaze immediately shifted to. While you might've gotten better, you still needed a bit more practice every now and then. Carlos chuckled when you didn't have a response right away, knowing you were distracted but he didn't feel the need to expose you just yet.

As he pulled his shirt down, your eyes snapped to his, finally coming up with a response "and almost get me fired for making you late?"

He shrugged, "maybe." You knew he would never do such a thing that would jeopardize your job, so you shrugged off his comment.

"Go now, Sainz" you urged, waving your hand to emphasize your point.

"I'm going, I'm going, relax, cariño." You could hear his laugh as he left the room, and you didn't focus on the papers in front of you until his footsteps had faded away.

It was just friendly banter, you reminded yourself even after hearing the nickname he gave you. Sometimes your conversations were borderline flirtatious, but it was still fine. Until it wasn't.

As the year progressed further, you were no longer just an employee with a career in motorsport; you were a member of the team that celebrated each high while consoling and sticking together during the lows.

While your job wasn't directly connected to the race, nor could you help in changing the outcome like the mechanics and engineers could, you helped uplift the mood in the room on multiple occasions.

Which is why when Carlos stood on the top step of the podium, claiming his first place trophy that would eventually become a part of a larger collection, you felt like you won.

The spray of champagne reached the crowd of his team waiting below the podium. A laugh bubbled up your throat as Carlos tried to aim the spill of the drink in the team principal's mouth standing on the floor a few feet away from you.

A proud smile grew on your face as you watched the drivers and a representative from your team that collected the constructors trophy gathered together on the top step to take a photo.

The celebrations continued in the team garage, since both drivers made it on the podium. The energy buzzing through each member was noticeable, knowing that this win would be celebrated until the next. After the team photo was taken, the champagne popped once again.

A few people were able to get away from becoming soaked, others were being targeted. Charles managed to slip away, but Carlos couldn't. He happily accepted the spray, soaking his race suit further after the podium.

His eyes however, darted across the crowd and landed on you. Standing just out of reach of the champagne shenanigans but still close enough to celebrate, Carlos decided to pull you even closer.

Grabbing the bottle from the nearest person, he covered the top and shook it. Releasing his thumb, he let the fizzy drink spray out, directing it at you this time. "Carlos!" You shrieked, but laughing nonetheless.

Once satisfied, he took a sip from the bottle, his gaze fixed on you as yours moved down to his neck, watching his Adam's apple bob while he swallowed. Passing the bottle to you, you moistened your lips before tipping it up and sipping the cool champagne.

His attention was diverted as Charles had found another bottle of champagne, deciding to drench his teammate even further after the celebrations began to die down. You smiled as Carlos tried to run away, dodging the alcohol, but it quickly dropped once he used you as a shield.

"Oh, no, no, no," you held your hand out at Charles who smiled mischievously, stopping in his tracks right in front of you.

"You are a part of the team," he commented, and you almost ignored his words as you felt Carlos' hands rest on your waist from behind, feeling his breath on your neck.

The heat of your thoughts was ruined when Charles decided to rain champagne down on you, cooling you off instantly. "Charles," you groaned, knowing that it would be an excruciatingly long process to wash all the champagne out of your hair, especially if it began to dry soon.

The team began to disperse, rightfully so as everyone wanted to change out of their champagne soaked clothes, you included. Trying to wring out as much liquid as you could, you muttered a curse under your breath. This was the first time you ever experienced a win like today.

Speaking of, the winner of the race was standing off to the side, shirtless. Carlos had removed his fireproof top but still had his race suit zipped down to his waist and placed a cap on his head backwards to keep his hair out of his face.

You parted your lips and watched his back muscles flex as he moved around, then hastily looked away as he turned. You kept wringing your shirt as he moved past you, and despite the fact that there was enough space for him to pass you without touching you, his fingertips brushed over your back, down to your waist. He lingered on your hip for too long, but he didn't say anything, only smiled when you inhaled deeply.

You had returned to your hotel room and immediately rushed towards the shower. The champagne from earlier had dried, creating an unpleasant sensation as a layer of tackiness remained behind. Washing away all the sweat and champagne, you sighed in relief, standing underneath the shower for a few extra minutes to release all the soreness in your muscles.

You still felt the buzzing excitement of the day running through your veins as you dried and dressed yourself, but you were also exhausted, ready to climb into bed and drift away into the safety of your dreams.

That plan was interrupted as you heard a knock on the door. Pulling your shirt over your body, you peeked through the peephole, smiling when you saw him standing on the other side.

"Oh hello, don't tell me you forgot your room number," you greeted Carlos as you opened the door.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he was transfixed by the sight of your hair, still wet from your shower, dripping down to your shirt beginning to cling to your body.

"I think I did, tell me you don't remember it either," his voice dropped an octave, and his stare was no longer calculating, but rather enticingly seductive.

"And why would I do that?" You almost whispered, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him.

He stepped forward, leaning one arm on the doorframe while his gaze glanced over you to briefly look inside the room. "I'm sure yours is big enough for two people."

The corner of your lip turned up at his words, knowing it was just a ploy to let him in. The realization that he desired you just as much as you had grown to want him dawned on you as you stared at him standing in front of you.

Trapping your lip between your teeth for a moment, instantly attracting Carlos' gaze towards them, you nodded.

"Let's check," you stepped back, pulling him inside by the collar of his shirt.

——

Taglist is open!! Lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

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[landosjpg]

risk | ln

lando norris x teammate!reader

the one where you find your crush with someone else.

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: just a little bit of angst with happy ending

note: based on this request. i haven’t written anything longer than 500 words in so long so bare with me please, i hope this is good enough :) reader is a driver but it doesn’t play a big role on the story/is only mentioned like once or twice!

you felt anxious, the nerves eating you alive as you lied in the darkness of your hotel room. you knew it was normal, in only a few hours you would be on your way to your first ever home race as a formula 1 driver.

but you also needed sleep, and as hard as you tried, nothing seemed to put your mind at ease, your mind just going back to making up every possible scenario of what would happen as you stepped in the car the very next day. the good, and also the bad.

after hours of tossing and turning around in bed, you desperately sighed: there was only one thing that could help you relax. someone.

cozied up in your pajamas you silently made your way out of your room and walked down the corridor to lando’s room. you knew he was, most likely, still awake despite of the late hour, well aware of his bad sleeping habits.

while most people thought your relationship was merely professional, during the previous months lando and you had grown extremely close to each other. too close, some would say.

countless nights, you had spent hours in each other’s rooms, trying your best not to wake up the whole building with your laughter. and most of those nights had finished with your limbs tangled with his under the thin blankets, whispered conversations and lingering touches lulling you to sleep.

you weren’t sure where your relationship really stood; every time you took a step forward, it seemed like you went back another three the next morning, the few moments of intimacy quickly forgotten as soon as the sun came up.

but he was the only person around who could make you forget about all your worries in just a few minutes, so you knocked on his door, hoping to not wake anyone up.

you heard his voice on the other side of the wall, but you couldn’t quite understand his words. only a few seconds later, the door swung open, a dishevelled lando standing before you.

“hey,” he greeted you in a whisper.

“hey,” you repeated, trying to catch on the undertone of his voice. normally, he would had pulled you inside already.

“i wasn’t expecting you to come.”

“i…” you started explaining, your words cut off by a figure walking out of the bathroom. your eyes widened and you took a step back. “oh my god, sorry. i didn’t know you were… i’m just gonna…” you said, slowly walking back.

you heard lando sigh and close the door as you made your way to your room again, your chest tightening at the realization. You had completely misunderstood your relationship with him, and now you felt stupid.

you crawled under your sheets with a heavy heart, and as much as you tried to think about something else, the image wouldn’t leave your mind.

the soft knock on your door only a few minutes later startled you and still with a blanket wrapped around your body, you made your way to open.

what you hadn’t expected was to find lando in front of you again, leaning against the doorframe.

“can I come in?” he straight up asked, his eyes analyzing your form.

“I thought you were…”

“she just left,” he cut you off, rising his eyebrow as if to ask you again to let him in. you stepped aside, inviting him inside and closing the door behind him.

“i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” your voice was almost a whispered, embarrassed every time the scene played in your mind again.

“you didn’t,” he said, taking a sit on the edge of your bed. “you’ve been crying?”

no,” you quickly lied, shyly drying your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“your eyes are red,” he tried to ignore your gesture, but curiosity got the best of him.

“i’m just tired and can’t fall asleep,” you weren’t fully lying.

“mind if i..?” he mumbled, leaning back on the mattress.

He didn’t have to finish his sentence; you already knew what words followed: mind if i stay the night?

And normally, you would have giggled and told him that he didn’t even have to ask, but this time it felt different.

“i don’t think your girlfriend would like that,” you said before you could even think about your words.

an amused chuckled left his lips, “is that jealousy i hear?”

your cheeks heated up at his question, embarrassment growing inside you. and you couldn’t answer, too scared to mess up again.

“we didn’t do anything,” he explained, a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. “realized I would rather spend my time with someone else.”

your heart skipped a beat at the implications behind his words, silence falling hard between the two of you.

“really?” you finally managed to quietly ask.

he patted the spot next to him on the mattress, silently asking you to join him, “you’re that oblivious, huh?” he chuckled.

slowly, you made your way closer to him, his hands reaching for your body as soon as you were at arm’s length; his hands were hooked at your hips and he pulled you into him, standing in between his legs.

he looked up at you, a sly smile spread on his lips when your hands rested on his shoulders.

“you’re not just saying that, are you?” you questioned again, not completely sure of if he was just playing with you.

“don’t be silly,” he shook his head. “i’m actually crazy about you.”

your fingers found home in his curls, softly running a hand through his hair as your gaze met his, “what does this mean for us then?” your voice came out in a nervous whisper.

“i don’t know,” he answered in the same low tone. “but i’d really love to kiss you right now.”

your breath hitched at the statement, and you only could give him a slight nod of your head before he closed the gap between your lips, freeing you from all the worries that had been tormenting you for hours.

[harrysfolklore]

the bestest - lh44

summary: lewis hamilton wins the silverstone grand prix, and his daughter thinks he's the bestest. wc: 1.7k. based on this request

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The British Grand Prix always carried a unique significance, but this year felt particularly momentous. Fans filled the stands, waving flags and banners, their cheers echoing through the circuit.

For Lewis, this year felt extra special because his wife and little girl were joining him, and that was enough to give him an extra boost of motivation for the upcoming race.

Alana Hamilton is just four years old, and she's the light of your lives. She's a curious child who always has a smile for everyone, her bright eyes constantly scanning her surroundings for new wonders to discover.

And she has her father completely wrapped around her tiny finger, everybody knew it.

Alana clung to your hand as you made your way to the paddock, her eyes wide with wonder at the spectacle around her. She had been to races before, but this time she was more aware of her surroundings and everything happening.

“Mommy, look at all the people!” Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she held your hand. “They’re all here for Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart, a lot of them are here to see Daddy race," you smiled at her, "He has a lot of fans who love to cheer him on."

“I’m going to cheer the loudest!”

Alana’s gaze followed every movement, her curiosity sparking with each new discovery. She was soaking it all in—the hustle of the team members, the hum of the engines, the vibrant colors of the team uniforms.

When you and Alana arrived at the team garage, Lewis was there, busy with pre-race preparations. He looked up, his face lighting up at the sight of his family.

“There’s my little girl,” he said, bending down to scoop Alana into his arms.

Alana giggled, her small arms wrapping around his neck. “Daddy, are you going to win today?” she asked, her voice full of hopeful excitement.

Lewis brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going to give it my all, princess. With you cheering me on, I have a really good feeling about today.”

As Lewis held Alana, George Russell, his teammate, walked by and smiled warmly at the scene.

"Well, if it isn't the Hamiltons, my favorite family," he said, his tone friendly and genuine.

Alana's face lit up with recognition. She remembered George from previous encounters and team events. "George!" she exclaimed, waving enthusiastically from her perch in Lewis's arms.

"Hello there, little champion," George chuckled, giving Alana a gentle high-five. "Are you excited for the race today?"

"Yes! Daddy's going to win because he's the bestest driver in the whole wide world!" she declared with innocent confidence, looking at Lewis with adoring eyes.

Lewis couldn't help but beam with pride, though he tried to maintain a humble demeanor. "Well, I don't know about that, sweetheart. There are a lot of great drivers out here today."

"But you're the bestest, Daddy," Alana insisted, her conviction unshakeable.

George laughed good-naturedly. "Well, Lewis, looks like you've got your biggest fan right here. No pressure or anything," he teased.

You smiled, watching the interaction. It was heartwarming to see how the team had become like an extended family, especially for Alana.

"Alright, princess," Lewis said, giving Alana one more squeeze, "Daddy needs to finish getting ready for the race. You be good for Mommy, okay?"

Alana's grip tightened around Lewis's neck, her little face scrunching up in defiance. "No, Daddy, don’t go!"

“Sweetie, Daddy has to race now," you gently stroked her back, "We’ll be right here watching him the whole time.”

As Alana clung tighter to Lewis, her eyes welling up with tears, you could see the conflict on your husband's face. He hated leaving her upset, but the race was about to start.

"Hey, princess," Lewis said softly, gently prying her arms from around his neck. "Remember what we talked about? Daddy has to go fast in the car so he can come back to you even quicker."

Alana's lower lip trembled, but she nodded, reluctantly loosening her grip. "Okay, Daddy. Be fast and be safe."

"I will, princess. I promise," Lewis kissed her forehead tenderly.

He handed her to you, and Alana nestled into your arms, still watching Lewis with wide, admiring eyes. He turned to you next, his expression softening.

"I'll see you both soon. I love you."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Be safe out there."

With one last glance at his family, Lewis turned and headed towards his car, his determination renewed by the love and support he carried with him.

As you made your way to the VIP viewing area, Alana's eyes darted everywhere, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling circuit. The roar of engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the grid.

"Look, baby," you pointed, "There's Daddy's car. Number 44, remember?"

Alana nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on the sleek silver Mercedes. "Go, Daddy, go!" she shouted, even though the race hadn't started yet.

Throughout the race, you explained what was happening in simple terms Alana could understand. She cheered every time Lewis's car came into view, her enthusiasm making everyone around melt.

"Daddy's car is going so fast! He's the bestest!" Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder.

When the final lap came, the tension was palpable. You held Alana close, her little hands clutching your shirt as she watched Lewis take the lead. As he crossed the finish line first, the grandstands erupted in roars.

Alana’s eyes widened in amazement. “Mommy, did Daddy win?”

“He did, sweetheart!” you exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “Daddy won!”

"Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, her voice filled with pure joy.

You couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, your own heart swelling with pride. "Let's go see Daddy, shall we?" you suggested, taking her hand.

You hurried to the pit lane, eager to congratulate Lewis. As he climbed out of the car, the sight of you and Alana brought a huge smile to his face. He reached out, and Alana practically leapt into his arms.

“Daddy!” she shouted, hugging him tightly. “You did it!”

Lewis laughed, his eyes shining with happiness. “We did it, baby girl.”

Lewis held Alana with one arm and reached out to pull you into the embrace with the other. The three of you stood there, a little island of family amidst the chaos of the celebration.

"I'm so proud of you," you whispered to Lewis, giving him a quick kiss.

Alana, not wanting to be left out, planted a big kiss on Lewis's cheek. "Me too, Daddy! You're the bestest ever!"

As the celebrations continued around you, Lewis kept Alana in his arms, not wanting to let her go. She had always been clingy with him, especially since he was away a lot of weekends for races. She missed him a lot, and every moment they spent together was precious to her.

When it was time for the post-race interview, Lewis tried to set Alana down, but she clung to him, her small hands gripping his suit. “No, Daddy, hold me.”

“Come on, sweetheart, let Daddy do his interview,” you coaxed.

Lewis looked at you with a soft smile. "It's okay, I'll take her with me. I'll pay whatever fine the FIA gives me," he said, adjusting Alana in his arms. You couldn't help but chuckle, knowing how much this moment meant to both of them.

As Lewis approached the interview area, he saw a familiar face waiting for him - Nico Rosberg, his former teammate and rival. Nico's eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of Lewis carrying Alana, a small smile making its way to his face.

"Lewis, congratulations on your win today," Nico began, microphone in hand. "And I see you've brought a special guest with you."

Lewis grinned, bouncing Alana slightly in his arms. "Yeah, this is my daughter Alana. She's my good luck charm today."

"Hello there, Alana," Nico smiled warmly at her, "Did you enjoy watching your dad race today?"

Alana, suddenly shy in front of the camera, buried her face in Lewis' neck but peeked out with one eye. "Daddy is the bestest," she mumbled.

The crowd around them collectively "aww'ed" at her adorable response. Lewis chuckled, patting her back gently.

"Well, Lewis," Nico continued, "that was an incredible drive today. Can you talk us through that final lap?"

As Lewis answered, discussing the intricacies of the race, Alana stayed nestled in his arms, occasionally lifting her head to look around curiously and playing with the zipper of her father's suit.

When the interview concluded, it was time for the podium ceremony. Lewis knew he couldn't take Alana up there with him, no matter how much he wished he could.

"Alright, princess," he said softly, "Daddy has to go up on the big stage now. Can you stay with Mommy and watch?"

Alana's grip tightened, her lower lip trembling. "No, Daddy, I want to stay with you!"

You stepped forward, gently prying Alana from Lewis's arms. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's watch Daddy get his big trophy. We can wave to him from here."

Reluctantly, Alana allowed herself to be transferred to your arms, her eyes never leaving Lewis. As he walked towards the podium, he turned back to blow a kiss to both of you.

You found a good spot near the podium, holding Alana up so she could see clearly. Her eyes widened as she watched Lewis climb the steps to the top of the podium.

"Look, baby," you said, pointing. "There's Daddy on the top step. That means he won!"

Alana's face lit up with pride and excitement. "Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, clapping her hands.

As the British national anthem played and Lewis stood tall on the podium, trophy in hand, Alana watched in awe. When Lewis spotted you two in the crowd, he gave a special wave and blew a kiss your way, making Alana squeal with delight.

"He sees us, Mommy!" she exclaimed, waving back furiously.

You hugged her close, your heart full of love for your little family. "Yes, he does, sweetheart. He's waving just for you."

As the champagne spray began, Alana giggled at the sight of her daddy getting all wet. It was a perfect end to a perfect day, one that you knew would be etched in your family's memories forever.

[girlgenius1111]

by your side

part 2 to responsibility how do you fix something when you don't have all the pieces? how do you heal when you aren't sure you deserve to? basically, r tries to work through the actions of her father, and the grief she feels for her mother. heavy angst but obviously still fluff. also hi thank you @wileys-russo your lil ideas saved this fic

-------

The early hours of the morning had been kind of a blur; one minute, you were cradled in Alexia’s arms in your house. The next minute, or so it felt like, you were being gently laid on the bed in the guest bedroom back at Alexia’s. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or perhaps it was the intense stress of the previous day, but almost as soon as you curled up under the covers on the guest bed, you were out cold. You didn’t remember leaving your house, or getting to Alexia’s. The state you were in worried your captain deeply, and she found herself hesitating in your doorway, terrified to leave you alone again. 

Worry was plaguing her, taking over every molecule in her body. This wasn’t a problem Ale could fix, and she hated not being able to solve things. Especially when the issue was hurting someone she cared about. It was only when she felt a gentle hand grab hers that she was brought out of her spiral. 

“Come to bed, Ale.” Olga whispered, softly tugging her girlfriend down the hall towards their room. Alexia didn’t resist very much, the allure of falling limp into her girlfriend’s arms in her bed too strong. 

“I don’t want to leave her,” she argued weakly, glancing back down the hall towards where you lay peacefully sleeping. Well, sleeping at least. 

“She’s asleep, and you need to be too. It’s been a long night for you, Ale, you have to let yourself rest.” 

“But-”

“No buts.” Olga interrupted, all but pushing her girlfriend to sit on the edge of the bed before she got a new pair of pajamas out for the blonde. Alexia was very strict about inside clothes and outside clothes, and Olga knew better than to try to get her girlfriend to sleep under the covers in clothes that had left the house. “You can’t help her if you’re exhausted.” 

Begrudgingly, Alexia nodded, taking the clothes from Olga and changing quickly. 

It was only once they were both back in bed, the lights flicked off and Alexia uncharacteristically curled up with her head on Olga’s chest, that the blonde spoke again. “I can’t fix this, Olga. I don’t know how to help her.” 

Olga hummed, dragging her nails slowly up and down her girlfriend’s back. “You don’t need to do it all by yourself. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to a few of your teammates. Ingrid and Mapi can come over and spend time with her, and you’ll bring Irene to go meet with her lawyer and her case worker. The less stress on chiquita, the better. You can tell the club what’s going on. Everyone will come up with a plan, and once there is a plan, you’ll feel better, and so will she. Take it one day at a time, Ale. That’s all you have to do.” 

It was amazing how rationally Olga could speak about such a stressful situation. It was also amazing how quickly she calmed Alexia’s anxiety. When Olga laid it all out like that, it seemed manageable. Olga was always right, and the blonde knew that this case wasn’t different. Alexia tucked her face into the brunette’s neck, leaving a soft kiss on the skin there. “One day at a time.” She repeated, whole body relaxing into her girlfriend’s. 

One day at a time. Alexia could do that. And so could you, she hoped. 

The phone calls that had to be made the next day were difficult, to say the least. Alexia had to explain, several times over, what had happened. To the club, to your lawyer, to a few of your other teammates. Alexia, though, thrived in an environment where there were things to do, tasks to complete. It was easier to approach the situation in a clinical way, like it was a checklist, than to think about the feelings of it all. 

She left you with Ingrid and Mapi, who were going to take you to get what you needed from your house, and picked up Irene on her way to the Barça offices. Your social worker, lawyer, the club's lawyer, and a few of the coaches would be meeting her there. That was the next thing for her to check off, yet she was finding it incredibly difficult to keep her feelings in check. She kept seeing flashes of your face when you arrived last night. 

In all her years of knowing you, Alexia had never seen you do anything that was even remotely unkind. You were always always kind. It was difficult for her to imagine anyone hurting you, though she occasionally saw it happen on the pitch. What was impossible, though, was trying to figure out how your father had inflicted so much pain onto you. You were so good. Alexia wasn’t sure how, after losing your mom and enduring what you had, you remained purely good. It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fucking fair. 

-------

“Look at you in this one!” Mapi practically shouted with glee, holding up a photo of a 5 year old you, striking a rather ridiculous pose and sticking out your hand in a peace sign. “Look at your tiny little face!” 

You rolled your eyes, shoving yet another photo album into the box. Your mom had loved to take photos, and there were countless albums filled with photos of you. You’d always liked to flip back through them, especially after losing her. The way she photographed; it was as if you could feel her love in the way she captured you.The most mundane things, captured, printed, and saved forever. Everything you did as a child excited your mom, made her beam with pride. It was easier to remember that grin she’d get, when you’d do something to make her laugh, when you looked back through these pictures. 

“Is this her?” Ingrid asked softly, holding up another photo, this time of 3 year old you, out cold in your mother’s arms as she smiled hugely at the camera. Your father must have taken that one. As always when you saw a photo of her, you felt a pang of longing in your chest, one that never eased with time. Sometimes, grief rushed through you with such power, you felt like you could double over in pain. Even now, even years later. That was something that never got better. 

“Yeah, that’s her.” 

Ingrid smiled, handing it to Mapi, who also inspected it closely. 

“She looks kind.” Ingrid noted. You thought of her warm hugs, and the funny voices she’d do when she’d read you bedtime stories. The way she always put a little note in your lunch. The silly dance she’d do to distract you when you’d need to get a shot. When you’d score a goal and look into the stand and see her there, smiling proudly. Or when you’d miss a goal, and her smile would still be there, still proudly watching you play. 

You still looked to the stands for her sometimes, on instinct. You missed her proud smile and her warm hugs and her kindness more than anything. Ingrid was right; she really did look kind, in a way that only someone purely and completely good could. 

You bit your lip, nodding rapidly. “She was. Really kind.” 

“Nena, you look like her.” Mapi said quietly, looking back and forth between you and the photo. 

People never said that. Never. They talked about how you and your father were practically twins, how you had the same nose and the same mouth as him. The same hair color, the same laugh, the same walk. You were just like him, everyone said. No one ever really compared you to your mom. You always thought it was because she was much too beautiful to be compared to. 

“No, I look like my dad.” You disagreed, shaking your head and taking the picture from the Spaniard’s outstretched hand. 

Ignoring Ingrid’s look telling her to drop it, Mapi also shook her head.

 “No, you have her eyes. Look, when she smiles? They crinkle just like yours do when you smile.” Mapi pointed at the photo, and suddenly, you couldn’t tear your eyes off it. “And that dimple on her cheek? You have that too, but only when you smile really big.” 

“Really?” You asked, refusing to look away from the photo. Mapi nodded, and Ingrid voiced her agreement, too. 

“You look kind, just like her.” 

You squinted, seeing the resemblance finally, but not seeing the kindness. “I don’t think I’m as kind as she’d like me to be.” 

“Well, from everything you’ve ever told me about her, I think she’d be very proud of you.” Mapi said definitively. You shrugged, silently disagreeing with her. There was nothing to be proud of, you thought. You turned the page, hoping for something to distract from Mapi’s statement. The photo on the next page sent a rush of different emotions through you, and you could only stare at it for a moment before you let it slip from your grip as you stood. 

“Pequeña?”

“I need some air.” You choked out, practically stumbling to the front door and wrenching it open. Ingrid and Mapi looked after you, startled at your abrupt exit. 

Picking up the photo album you’d dropped, Ingrid’s face melted into one of understanding. She handed it over to the Spaniard, before getting to her feet herself and heading out the front door after you. Mapi took in the photo, not needing to think too hard about why it had upset you. 

You couldn’t have been more than 3, asleep in your car seat in the back of the car. The photo was from the point of view of the driver, and also captured your father, asleep in almost an identical position in the passenger seat. His arm was stretched back, hand reaching to where yours extended. You were gripping onto two of his fingers with your small fist, slumped to the side a bit in order to reach him. 

It didn’t look like a particularly comfortable position for either of you, yet you were both happily dozing. Mapi took a moment, willing herself not to rip the damn photo into pieces. The same hand you’d clung onto for comfort and safety as a child had inflicted the gash and the bruises that marked your face now. How does a parent go from loving and dedicated, as your father seemed in the photos, to the man he was now? Practically a stranger to you. The family that had known you was gone, leaving nothing in its absence. 

Mapi headed out after the two of you, not sure what she should say. What she could say. She stepped onto the front porch, heart melting a bit at the way you sat, with your head resting on Ingrid’s shoulder. The Norwegian’s hand rubbed slowly up and down your back, though you inhaled shakily every few seconds, crying silently. 

It appeared you didn’t have anything to say, either. 

-------

It was unclear whether Mapi suggested ice cream because you still had time to kill before Alexia arrived home from her meeting, if she was trying to cheer you up, or if she just wanted ice cream. Regardless, you had agreed timidly, not wanting to seem too excited as you felt they’d already done enough for you today. Ingrid had pounced on the idea, though, dragging you halfway across the city to the best ice cream shop in Spain. 

You appreciated her enthusiasm, even if you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go ho- back to Alexia’s, and take a nap. Alexia and Olga were both still out, though, and you were quite sure no one was going to leave you home alone anytime soon. 

The whole day had broken records, you were sure, of Mapi being quieter than she’d ever been in her life. Her and Ingrid didn’t try to get you to talk, not really. They just kept you company, allowing you to stare out at the ocean from where the three of you sat eating your ice cream. Well, mostly. 

“Nena?” Mapi asked. You hummed, looking up from your ice cream. Mint chocolate chip, it had been your mom’s favorite. Or was that peanut butter chocolate chip? You couldn’t remember. “Do you want to go visit your mom? Where she’s buried, I mean?” 

You furrowed your brow, looking a bit defensive. “What would that do?” 

“You could talk to her. Or… I don’t know. It might be nice to visit. I always feel my abuela around a bit more after I visit her.” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your mouth shut, but the Spaniard easily clocked the skeptical look on your face. She nudged you with her shoe, keeping her expression curious and open. “What?” 

“Mapi, my mom is dead. There is nothing to feel.” 

“You don’t think she’s hanging around?” 

“I don’t believe in God, Mapi. I don’t believe in heaven or hell, I don’t think she’s anywhere.” 

You used to believe. You’d been raised religious, kept up with it casually. Until your mom had gotten sick, and you’d laid awake night after night for months, praying to God that she’d get better. That He wouldn’t take her from you. And then she was gone and you decided that even if he was up there, you hated him. God has a plan, everyone always told you that, especially after she’d died. You didn’t care about any plan, though. Not now, not then. You wanted your mom back, divine plans be damned. 

She was gone, though. And it felt like she faded away from you with every passing day. 

You couldn’t quite hear her voice anymore. Couldn’t smell her perfume, even if you thought really hard. You couldn’t remember what her paella tasted like, or the little song she used to sing when she’d braid your hair. You weren’t sure if the red sweater or the green sweater had been her favorite. 

You felt the gap she’d left behind more than anything. You’d see something crazy happen, and think about how you wished you could tell her. Every song from her favorite artist that came out, every movie you knew she would have loved. Every goal you scored. Every game or trophy you won. You thought of her. 

You used to feel her everywhere and now you were afraid that you felt her absence more than anything. The harder you tried to hold on to your memories of her, the easier they seemed to slip away. If she was still around, why did it feel like she was only getting farther and farther away from you? 

Mapi interrupted your thought spiral. “You don’t have to believe in anything, or go visit anyone. We just want to help you, nena.” 

“I know.” You nodded shakily. A thousand other replies swirled around in your brain, but none of them made their way out of your mouth. They were too complicated to sift through, some of them completely contradictory. Your phone buzzed, much to your relief, with a text from Alexia. 

Hola, nena. How are you doing? We are almost done here, and then we can just relax the rest of the day. Maybe have a movie night? Whatever you feel like! It’s Olga’s night to cook, but everything else is your choice. See you soon. <3

Your stomach twisted with some emotion; you weren’t sure if it was good or bad. Maybe both. Hopeful, but terrified. You didn’t want to get used to being cared for. What would happen when it was taken away again? 

------

The meeting had gone well, if Alexia’s relieved mood was any indication. You weren’t sure what that meant for you, though. And you were more than a little scared to ask. What if she seemed relieved because they had decided they were going to take you away somewhere? And she wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore? 

You worried all through dinner, which had been delicious, though you hadn’t been able to stomach much. There were no signs that you were becoming less worked up, even as you sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped up in a very warm blanket. You’d chosen the movie, and Olga and Ale had bickered over who got to hold onto the remote. 

The domesticity of the situation wasn’t helping the turmoil in your head, everything compounding to become rather overwhelming. If you were to stay, where did you fit here? Alexia sat with her arm around her girlfriend, their hands linked together under the blanket they shared, you were sure. They were in love, and had a life together. Surely, you staying would just drive a wedge between them? And that was only if Alexia even wanted you to stay. 

Both her and Olga seemed to pick up on your increased anxiety, though, finally stepping in after you’d gnawed on all of your nails, and had just pulled so hard at one of your cuticles, it began to bleed. Alexia had paused the movie you’d chosen, disappearing to find a bandage, while her girlfriend turned to face you. 

“Hey, pequeña? Are you feeling anxious?” Olga asked gently, fighting back a sad frown at how stricken you looked to be asked so outwardly about your feelings. Your captain returned just in time to hear your shaky response. 

“A little.” You admitted. 

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?” Alexia wondered, insisting on wrapping the adhesive bandage onto your finger herself, though you were more than capable. 

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. “The meeting today… Am I staying here? Or being sent somewhere else?” Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, which wasn’t an obvious good sign or bad sign. 

For Alexia, there was never any question. You were staying with her, she’d move heaven and earth to make it happen if she had to. The blonde hadn’t thought to tell you that you were staying with her, because it had never been up for debate. Clearly, though, you were still quite unsure that your captain wanted you around. 

You took her silence in a different way, though, now convinced you would be leaving, and began scrambling to assure her that it was okay. You understood. “I get it, Ale, you don’t need me around here, I don’t blame you at all…” 

Alexia found her voice finally, looking frantically at her girlfriend. “No! No, nena, you are staying here. You are staying here with us, for as long as you want to. I wouldn’t have you go anywhere else.” 

Your captain studied you, feeling a wave of sadness at the expression of shock on your face.

 “You want me to stay here?” You asked quietly, almost disbelieving. “Both of you?” 

“Yes.” Alexia promised. You fixed your attention on Olga, doubtfully gazing at her. Ale was your captain; but Olga owed you nothing. She just smiled gently at you, though, reaching out to squeeze your hand. 

“I want you here too, nena. I promise.” 

A beat passed, before you swallowed thickly and nodded. “Thank you.” You were barely able to keep your voice from breaking, but Alexia pulled you into her all the same. 

“Don’t thank us. Just believe us.” 

Nodding again, you laid your head on her shoulder, trying to ignore the tears falling from your eyes. What a strange feeling it was, to be loved. You’d forgotten. 

------

“I don’t want to do this.” You said quietly, not moving to undo your seatbelt even as Alexia turned the car off. “Please don’t make me.” 

Your captain didn’t want to make you do anything. She would have been content to let you stay curled up on her couch, where you obviously felt relatively safe. That’s all she wanted; for you to feel safe. There was no way to avoid what came with the legal process, though, and this was a required step. 

 A familiar pained expression washed over Alexia’s face. “I know. I’m sorry. We have to do this.”

The we Alexia used made you feel a bit weird. It felt mostly like a good thing; like you weren’t alone. At the same time, it was also kind of scary. There was a lack of control that came along with relying on another person, and this was not something you were used to. You only grew paler as you and Alexia exited the car. She kept a guiding hand on your shoulder, and you weren’t convinced she didn't think you were about to bolt. 

“What if… what if I just talk to you, instead?” You asked, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the parking lot. With more patience than you thought you deserved Alexia turned back towards you, a sympathetic expression on her face. “No therapist, just you.” 

Your captain grabbed your hand, but didn’t tug you any closer to the building. “You can always talk to me pequeña. Always. I know you really don't want to do this, but your social worker is requiring it, as is your lawyer. It sucks, I know it sucks. You just have to do your best and tell her as much as you can. And if it’s awful, we’ll find someone else.” 

“If I don’t like her, I don’t have to come back?”

“No. I promise.” 

“And you’ll stay in the waiting room?” You hated being so openly vulnerable, but the care that your captain was showing you was making it increasingly difficult to remain stoic. 

“Of course. You aren’t doing this alone, nena. Any of it.” 

As you got in the elevator, and Ale pushed the button for the therapist office’s floor, you were struck with the thought that she’d so easily calmed your fears and anxieties. Your captain had always been a comforting individual, but when you showed up on her doorstep a few days ago, you never could have expected how easily she’d taken you in. It was like second nature to her, making sure you were okay. 

She made taking care of you seem… easy. You’d thought it to be a hard task for a long time. It was a bit astounding, how quickly Ale had you questioning things you’d been believing for years. 

Alexia had picked the therapist, you remembered. She’d done the research and found this woman, and for some reason, that made it easier for you to walk into the office and shake the therapist, Elia’s, hand. 

It was even easier when Alexia patted you on the cheek and sent you a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right out here if you need me, okay?” 

With a nod, you followed the therapist into the room, feeling significantly less anxiety than you’d been feeling a few minutes ago. Odd. 

------- 

“Ms. Putellas?” Elia peeked her head out of the room, too professional to seem flustered, yet still clearly concerned with something. 

The blonde looked up from her phone, knowing very well that it had not been even close to the full hour you were supposed to be in there for. “Yes?” 

“Can you join us for a bit? We’re feeling a bit upset, and I think she needs…” Elia trailed off as Alexia lurched to her feet and practically ran into the room. You were crying into your hands, and your captain briefly thought that you’d been reduced to tears an unfair amount of times in the past few days. 

“Hey, hey, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, taking a seat on the couch next to you and carefully pulling you into her arms. “It’s okay, I've got you.” 

You had been trying to force your tears to stop, still not fully comfortable with being so vulnerable in front of Alexia, and this mostly strange woman sitting across from you. Your captain had such a calming aura about her, and you felt inexplicably better as soon as she took a seat next to you. Alexia was safe. 

“I-I…” It was a struggle to get any words out and you weren’t really sure what you were trying to say.

“Just give yourself a minute, focus on breathing.” Alexia coached, exaggerating her own breathing as you tried to match her. 

Your therapist watched with a completely impassive face as you clung to the blonde. Her job was to determine your mental wellbeing, as well as figure out if the placement you were in at the moment was the right one. She was quite sure she had her answers, only 20 minutes into the session. You were most definitely not okay. But you were probably in the right place. 

It was obvious to her that Alexia was someone you trusted. Someone you felt safe with. You’d tried to just get everything out in the open, thinking if you rushed through the whole story it wouldn’t hurt as much. You had been wrong; you were barely halfway through what you needed to say before you were bursting into tears and quietly asking for Alexia. It wasn’t very common for someone who had endured what you had to so easily trust someone, even outside of the initial situation. But she could see why you trusted Alexia. 

The blonde held you protectively, shushing you gently as you cried. All her attention was on you as she tried to calm you down. Not on Elia, not on the way the therapist was taking copious notes. Alexia wasn’t putting on any kind of performance to get to keep you. Her concern was genuinely only with your wellbeing in that moment. 

After a few minutes, Alexia leaned you back and handed you your water bottle, encouraging you to take a few sips. Once you’d done that, you used your shirt to wipe your eyes, and turned towards the therapist; though you didn’t meet her gaze. 

“Sorry. I thought I could get through that, I didn't mean to freak out.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Alexia and Elia said at the same time. You looked between them, caught between amusement and annoyance that they were suddenly ganging up on you. 

“You said something to me that I’d like to go back to, if that’s alright.” Elia said. You nodded your agreement, your hand gripping onto Alexia’s as if you were afraid the therapist was going to make her leave. She didn’t do any such thing, and Alexia gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

 “You said the way your father acts is your fault.” Next to you, your captain inhaled sharply. “Can you explain to me why you think that?” 

You shrugged, suddenly looking very closed off. Elia wasn’t sure if the question had been too much, or if you were too embarrassed to admit the truth in front of Alexia. The rest of the session passed quickly, with you giving very short answers, clearly ready to be done for the day. 

She let you go early, though with homework; to try to figure out why you are so reluctant to blame your father for his behavior, and so willing to blame yourself. There was no answer, you thought to yourself. That was just how things were. 

-------

It was after your first training session with the team that you brought up your idea. It had been a good day; though everyone seemed to go out of their way to give you a hug or make you laugh, you didn’t mind it. It was as good of a day as you’d had in a while, and you weren’t quite sure why you were so set on ruining it. Your captain could very obviously tell that there was something on your mind; that something had been for a few days. 

You were both eating a snack in the kitchen when you finally let her in, and asked what you’d been thinking about asking for a while now. 

“Ale?” 

“Hmm?” The blonde looked up at you from the banana she was peeling, giving you a very soft and very encouraging smile. It wasn’t like you to start a conversation that seemed serious; normally, she was the one prompting you. 

“I… I want to visit my dad. In jail.” You rushed through the sentence, as if Alexia wouldn’t understand but still agree if you spoke fast enough. No luck, though, as Alexia looked at you in surprise. This was clearly not what she had been expecting. 

“No, nena, I think that is a really bad idea.” She said firmly. 

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” You said without thinking. After a beat, your face flushed red and you tensed with what could only be described as fear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” 

Slightly puzzled by your panic, she put her snack down and walked around the counter to stand next to you. Cautiously, she put a hand on your back, feeling you relax at her touch. 

Now that she thought about it, Alexia had never once seen you advocate for yourself. Never. And from the way you were shrinking under her gaze, you clearly thought you weren’t allowed to disagree with her, or ask for what you needed. She wondered how long it had been since you’d felt safe enough to just… exist. Live. Do things without worrying and worrying about the consequences of the tone of your voice or the things you said. Alexia knew she had to tread carefully; because while she was sure going to visit your dad would not end well for you… she didn’t want to control you. 

“You don’t need my permission.” Alexia said gently. “I am not your keeper; you are old enough to make your own decisions, especially about things like this. I just really don’t think it is a good idea. I won’t stop you, nena, but I do not think you should do it.”

You contemplated, looking like you were trying to decide if this was some kind of trick or not. Would she really not be mad if you went against what she wanted? You didn’t want to risk what little peace you’d found in the past week. Nothing was worth that. You were just about to agree with her, drop the idea entirely, when she asked a follow up question, clearly trying to understand your motives. 

“Can I ask why you want to see him?” 

You worried your lip between your teeth, not entirely sure you knew why yourself. You just… had to see him. If there was a chance for you to get your father back, you’d take it. “If he says sorry…” 

“You’ll forgive him?” Alexia tried and failed to keep the disgust out of her voice and you frowned, withdrawing further into yourself. All your captain got was a shrug in response. He’d never said it before, and there was no reason for you to think he would now, but still. You clung to that hope; it was all you had left of your family. And you were so sure that your mother wouldn’t want you to give up on him so easily. 

“He’s my dad, Ale.” You mumbled, shrugging out from under her hand and wrapping your arms around yourself. Alexia noticed you do that when you were anxious, or upset; like you were trying to self soothe. She hated it. You didn’t need to do that yourself anymore, she was here, ready and willing to give you all the hugs you could ever need. You looked downright afraid of her in that moment, though, and the blonde had to school her features and take a deep breath before she said anything. 

Alexia knew that if she said she didn’t want you to again, you wouldn’t go. Your captain had spent the last week analyzing all of your behavior, talking to your therapist, talking to your teammates, talking to her mother and her girlfriend. Anyone that could give her some insight into how to best help you. She felt like she understood you, on some level, now. Much more than she had before, when you’d just been her little quiet teammate, who did her best to stay in the shadows. There was a complexity to you that she’d missed entirely, but now that she saw it, she realized how desperately you craved her approval. You’d always been closer to her than anyone else, but now you were practically attached at the hip to her. Not that she minded; whatever made you feel safe. 

So Alexia knew that your paramount worry was what she thought. And no matter how many times she tried to convince you that you were allowed to make this decision for yourself, she knew you wouldn’t go against what she wanted. She didn’t need to ask if you were sure, either; you wouldn't have brought it up to her if you weren’t. 

With a sigh, she relented. “If that's what you want to do, then that’s what we’ll do. I can take you later today?”  

Your whole body deflated with relief, and you were diving forward to hug her tightly before you could stop yourself. “Thank you.” You mumbled the words into her shoulder, beyond grateful for her understanding. 

She hugged you back, tightly, the now familiar scent of her perfume overwhelming your senses. It didn’t matter how many times she offered you a hug or a kiss on the forehead or a hand to hold; you were pretty sure you’d always be surprised. It was apparent to her that you were understandably touch starved, but you still seemed a little confused why you sunk into her hugs, and were beginning to do the same with Olga’s. 

“Of course, pequeña.” Alexia replied, hoping with all of her being that this wouldn’t prove to be a mistake. She had a sinking feeling it would be. 

------

His face appeared every time you closed your eyes. More than his empty words, and the careless look in his eyes as he looked at you through the glass. He hadn’t cared that you visited, hadn’t apologized. He’d blamed you for provoking him, somehow. And for what happened after. 

And still, his appearance was burned into your mind. You had a bruise across your forehead, and he had a matching one. You’d gotten the stitches out of your cheek the day before, and now he had some in his cheek. 

You’d look even more alike, now, with matching scars on your face. 

It was like as you healed, and moved on, you transferred your pain to him. Like there was no growth without forgetting. You were leaving him behind buried in grief. The people that loved you were desperately trying to pull you out, and suddenly, you felt like digging your heels in and going limp. Because he was your dad and if he was hurting, shouldn’t you be hurting too? Just as much?  Why were you allowed to be happy when he wasn’t able to?

Memories ran through your mind, on repeat. His smile when you scored a goal on him for the first time. His grimace as he saw you walk through the door of your house. His hand on yours, teaching you how to hold a baseball. His hands on you, pushing and pushing; like you were a physical manifestation of his pain, and he wanted it away from him at all costs. A whispered I love you as he and your mom put you to bed after a late night. Not a word uttered while you sobbed, her casket being lowered into the ground.  

Was he still in there somewhere? Buried under all the hurt and the pain and the grief, did he still love you? He had to. If he didn’t, you had only yourself to blame. For leaving the house that night and going to Alexia’s. For talking to the police. For pressing charges. 

The very small logical part of you knew this wasn’t true, but the overwhelming majority of your brain couldn’t comprehend that you weren’t to blame, that he was. How could you hate someone and love someone at the same time? You were sure you did. You loved him and you hated him. You wanted to never see him again, and you wanted to go back home with him, even if nothing was different. 

After everything, you still loved him. How could he not love you? How could he not care, like he’d said was the case inside that jail, with a swollen face and a broken look in his eyes. 

You moved like a zombie as you exited the building, and Alexia was quick to jump out of the car and run to you. You were practically in a catatonic state as she reached you, face completely blank. She placed both her hands on your cheeks, worry only growing when you didn’t react other than to flicker your eyes up at her, and then look away.

“Nena?” 

No response. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” 

Still, nothing. 

Alexia was at a complete loss; you continued to stare blankly just over her shoulder. It felt like you were underwater, your captain’s words mostly unintelligible. A thousand thoughts ran through your head, but really only one broke through. Alexia was talking to you, Alexia was here. You lurched towards the safety that she brought, practically falling into her arms. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Alexia said, wrapping her arms around you just in time before you fell crumpled to the ground. “You’re alright, you’re safe. He’s locked up in there, and you’re out here with me.”

As your captain led you to the car, you wondered if a part of you wasn’t locked up there with him. If you’d ever be able to pry that piece away, and give it back to yourself. 

------

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Alexia burst out, attempting to rise to her feet. A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back down onto the sofa. 

“No, Ale.” Olga sighed. 

With a dramatic sigh, Alexia flopped onto her side, having been fighting this battle for at least two hours. As soon as you’d both returned home from your visit, still without having said a single word, you disappeared up to the guest room. The blonde had wanted to go after you immediately, but Olga had stopped her, encouraging her to give you time to process whatever had happened on your own. Alexa hadn’t wanted to do that then, and now it had been two hours, and she still hadn’t seen you. 

“But-”

“No. Give her time.” 

“I’ve given her time, amor. Two whole hours!” 

“She must be exhausted, Alexia. Imagine how mentally tiring this all has to be for her. You have to let her work some of this out herself. She can’t decide how she feels if you’re hovering over her asking her the same questions she is asking herself.” As always, everything the brunette was saying made sense, though it still didn’t seem to make the midfielder feel any better. 

“What if she needs a hug?” Alexia mumbled, pulling at a loose thread on the couch, glaring at her girlfriend when she slapped the blonde’s hand away from it. 

“Maybe you need a hug.” Olga replied, shifting her laptop off her legs, and opening her arms for Alexia. The blonde was only able to hold out for a few seconds, her frown quickly melting away as she sank into the smaller girl’s embrace. One long hug later, Alexia evidently felt better, sliding off her girlfriend’s lap so she could resume her work. The captain reached for her phone, smiling triumphantly to herself when she read the text she’d received. 

“Mapi says I should go in there!” 

Olga didn’t look up from her computer. “And Ingrid? What does Ingrid say?” 

Alexia’s face fell, and she read back through the thread. “To give her time.” She sighed, throwing her phone back onto the couch and ignoring the smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Another entire hour passed before you emerged from your room, shuffling down the stairs, wrapped in one of your mother’s hoodies. Alexia froze, like you were a wild animal she was going to scare off, while Olga remained completely normal, smiling at you and patting the couch in between the two of them. 

“Hola, nena. Are you hungry?” 

You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest and attempting to make yourself as small as possible. Alexia continued to stare at her, and if you’d been feeling more yourself, you absolutely would have made fun of her for it. You could barely look at her, feeling horrible that you hadn’t listened to her advice in the first place. At the same time, you knew that there was no part of you that would have been able to move on without the clarity you received today. If you could even call it clarity, if you could even consider moving on. 

Sensing that the two of you needed to talk, Olga rose to her feet, shutting her laptop, and affectionately ruffling your hair. “I’ll go get us some pizza for dinner, yes?” 

You both agreed, although you did so somewhat begrudgingly. There was a conversation incoming, you knew, and it seemed as though it would include some variation of I told you so.

You wanted to avoid that, and for some reason, decided the best way to accomplish this goal was to just… start talking. As soon as the door was shut behind Olga, you were talking, feeling Alexia watching you carefully. 

“He didn’t say sorry. He wasn’t even really that mad, he was just so… indifferent to me. He told me it was my fault, and I knew he’d say that. I don’t-. I think I would be mad at him if… if they hadn’t…” 

“If they hadn’t what, nena?” Alexia wondered. Your face had a glazed over look to it, like you weren’t full there with her, but you responded nonetheless. 

“They found out he was in for ‘hitting his kid’, he said. And they beat him for it. His face was all messed up, one of his eyes was barely open. He looked so defeated, Ale, and it’s all my fault.” 

Alexia was immediately shaking her head. “No. He made his own decisions, and he is facing the consequences of them now. None of that is your fault. That’s what happens to men in prison that hit their kids.” 

There was a note of… satisfaction in Alexia’s voice. Like justice had been done. 

“He didn’t hit me.” You disagreed weakly. 

“No, he broke down your bedroom door and threw a bottle of vodka at your face. He hurt you. That isn’t okay.” 

“I know it’s not okay, I know that. But he’s grieving, Ale. He’s hurting too. He misses my mom just like I do, it’s not his fault.” It was as if you were pleading with Alexia to agree with you. To let him off the hook, or maybe… maybe you were pleading with her to stand her ground. And convince you of what you knew was right. 

Alexia remained firm, not raising her voice even as you did so. “That is no excuse to hurt you. You have been grieving, too, and-”

“I pushed him once,” you cried, tears suddenly flooding down your face. “I pushed him and he pushed me back but I started it. It’s all my fault, all of this is all my fault.” You dropped your forehead onto your knees, sniffling and gasping for air as you tried to get a hold on yourself. You felt the presence of Alexia next to you, carefully rubbing her hand up and down your back. 

“He is an adult, and you are a kid. You didn’t deserve any of this, pequeña. You don’t deserve to be his punching bag just because he is hurting. You are hurting, too, and he should be taking care of you.”

Her voice was soft in your ear, and you wanted to believe her. So badly. “He’s my dad,” you whimpered, lifting your head just enough for the blonde to see your tearstained face, the fresh scar on your cheek. Every day she had to look at it, she knew she’d never forgive him for what he’d done. 

“I know.” 

“I just want…I want everything to go back to how it was, before she got sick and before he stopped loving me. I want to have a parent again. It’s not fair. ” 

“No, cariño, it isn’t fair, not at all.” 

It didn’t quite seem like you were hearing Alexia, but she certainly heard the next words out of your mouth. 

“I’m all alone,” you choked out. More than anything in the world, you didn’t want to be alone. Even if all you had was your father… at least you had him. At least you had someone. It was ridiculous and completely nonsensical, but you think you would have forgiven him for anything, found a way to blame yourself, if it meant you got to keep the shattered pieces of the family you once had. The pieces cut your hands to shreds, but you held onto them nonetheless, thinking you had no other option. That it was that, or nothing at all. 

Hands guided your face up further, and you were surprised to see a fierce look on Alexia’s face. “You are not alone. You will never be alone. Mapi, Ingrid, Irene, Frido, everyone would be there in a heartbeat for you, if you needed them. No one on this team would ever let you be alone.” 

Alexia spoke carefully, trying to gauge whether the words were sinking in or not. 

“And pequeña, I would never, ever let you be alone. I’ve got you, now. You are important to me, I care about you, and you are not alone. I know you feel like you are, but you aren’t, you absolutely aren’t. I am here now, nena, and I always will be. For as long as you need me, I'll be right here.” She gripped your hand in hers, her rather impassioned speech echoing in your ears. 

Maybe, you thought, you could put yourself back together. With your teammates help, with Alexia’s help, it could be accomplished. 

You didn't think he could. With your help or without it, he was who he was. And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t change that. If he wanted to stay in the grief, live in the past, there was nothing you could do to drag him to peace against his will. Maybe he didn’t deserve peace, or happiness. 

You weren’t sure that you did, either, but that was another fight, for another day. As Alexia hugged you tightly, as Olga entered through the front door and joined you both on the couch, you didn’t feel lonely for the first time in what felt like forever. Whatever was to come, you weren’t alone in it. You didn’t believe that entirely, yet, but you got the sense that you would, one day. You got the sense that there was someone out there that wouldn’t rest peacefully until you were happy, and safe, and loved. 

As suddenly as she had gone, you felt like she was back. Standing next to you in court as you testified against your father. Watching from the stands as you played some of the best football of your life. 

Her hand on your shoulder as you moved out of Alexia’s spare room, a year later. A different person than the one that had shown up on her porch, bloody and entirely broken. You felt her right all over, all the time. But especially as you hung her picture up on the wall in your new apartment. The family photos wall, you’d decided. 

Your mom wasn’t alone up there. She was surrounded by photos of you and your teammates. Of you laughing and holding trophies and looking like the energetic, happy child she’d known. Alexia helped you hang all the pictures up, and you had an overwhelming sense that your mother, wherever she was, approved of your new family. Maybe, she’d even sent them to you, knowing her girl needed all the love in the world. If there was anything you were sure about, it was that you were loved. 

And what a feeling that was. 

-------

don't really have to much to say here. let me know what you think! thanks for reading 🫶🏻🥰

[f1boistrash]

nowhere else i'd rather be | l.s

a/n: here is more of logan x verstappen!reader. i've also got another part in the works which i'm excited to start

summary: you comfort logan after the news broke that he wouldn't be racing in the australian grand prix

<- previous part

You were in the Red Bull garage when the news was announced. You had heard the rumors after Alex's crash in free practice one but you didn't think they would actually do it or at least you hoped they wouldn't. Williams had given Alex Logan's car for the rest of the weekend and you were angry.

You quietly left before anyone noticed, making your way to Logan's room for the weekend. No one batted an eye, too focused on getting the car ready for free practice two so you were able to sneak in. You found his room easily, the layout similar to Red Bulls garage, and knocked on the door. You heard some movement inside but no one came to open the door.

"Logan? It's me, Y/N." You tried again. You didn't want to just barge in but you also wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay. Well as okay as anyone can be in this situation.

"The doors open." You heard him mumble and you quickly slipped inside.

The sight before you broke your heart. Logan was sat on his couch, his head in his hands. He looked defeated. You sat down next to him, immediately wrapping your arms around him. It was like a dam broke inside as tears started falling. You held him tightly, your way of letting him know you weren't going anywhere. It took everything for you to not go in James' office and give him a piece of your mind for treating Logan like this.

It was a few minutes before Logan sat up, moving out of your arms. He brushed his hand over his face as if he was trying to hide the fact he was crying. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, too embarrassed to look at you.

"You don't need to apologize, Logan. What they did was shit. You have every right to be upset." You told him, placing your hand over his. "I don't ever wanna hear you apologize for your feelings, okay?"

"Thanks, Y/N." Logan thanked you, sending you what was probably the first genuine smile of the day. "You being here means a lot."

"There's no where else I'd rather be." You admitted, heat rising to your cheeks at your admission. Before you could hide, afraid you made the situation weird, Logan cupped your cheek and leaned forward. Neither of you had a chance to make a move before your phone went off, interrupting the moment. You cursed silently at your brother for choosing now to text you. "I should probably get going or Max will send out a search party."

"Yeah, I should probably show my face in the garage." Logan groaned. He didn't want to but knew he had to keep up appearances for the team.

"I'll text you later." You promised him as he walked you to the door. You hugged Logan goodbye and left but not before you bumped into Alex. "Hey Alex."

"Hey Y/N." He called after you. Alex then turned to Logan giving him a knowing smirk.

"We're just friends." Logan said, trying to convince himself more than anything because there was no way he could have a crush on a fellow drivers sister. Alex grinned at his teammate, not believing him one bit.

-x-

Logan was nervous. More nervous than he was before he got into his car on race days. He had no reason to though because you were just friends. That's what he kept telling himself, afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you. You had texted earlier that you were coming over to his hotel room, bringing food with you, and since then Logan was on edge. It felt like a date but you hadn't said anything to suggest it was.

A knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts. He opened the door and there you were, takeout bags in each hand and a grin on your face. It was enough for the nervousness Logan had to melt away. "I heard about this place from Oscar and he reckons its the best food in Melbourne. So if its bad we can just blame him." You said as you walked into his room. "And I know it may be breaking our diet but we can just do an extra lap of the track tomorrow." You rambled on, taking the boxes out of the bag. When Logan didn't say anything you looked up, seeing him softly smiling at you making you self conscious. "I'm overstepping, aren't I? I am so sorry. You probably want to be by yourself now after today. I'll leave you alone now."

"Please don't." Logan pleaded, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. He gently grabbed your hand to stop you from leaving his room. "I enjoy your company. In fact you're making this whole weekend bearable." Logan pulled you close, his nose brushing yours. "So please don't leave." He mumbled against your lips before kissing you. You melted into his kiss, forgetting any worries you had.

[its-avalon-08]

HI! i know you are on brk, so do write this whenever you want, take all the rest you need carlos x norris!sister

age gap of about 3 years

angry lando, secret dating, angst then fluff

im backkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!! im so thankful for all of the adorable messages, thank sm for the support, without you i would not be able to do this! p.s get ready for post spams because your girl had too much ready!!!!

give me a chance (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x norris!sister!reader

✦ genre - angst, fluffy ending

The tension in the motorhome kitchen was thicker than the stale coffee Carlos was reheating. You, Lando's younger sister by three years, fiddled with your phone, stealing nervous glances at Carlos. He nursed his mug, a self-conscious hand brushing over the small, purple mark blossoming on his neck. It mirrored the one blooming on yours – a secret souvenir from a stolen kiss in Monaco the previous weekend.

"We should be more careful," you whispered, pushing the stray tendril of hair that kept escaping your ponytail back behind your ear.

"Yeah," Carlos agreed, his voice low. "But seeing you in that dress..." He trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck.

A laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. The memory of you slipping into the tiny hotel balcony, the twinkling lights of Monte Carlo sprawling beneath you, still sent shivers down your spine. Just as Carlos leaned in for another kiss, the door swung open and Lando burst in, interrupting your stolen moment.

"There you two are! Let's go, debrief's about to start."

Relief washed over you, momentarily eclipsing the disappointment. Keeping your relationship with Carlos a secret had been stressful, but Lando finding out was your worst nightmare. He was fiercely protective of you, the age gap somehow making him feel more like a brother than a sibling. He'd never approve of you dating a teammate, especially someone older.

The following days were a tightrope walk. Stolen glances across the paddock, whispered jokes in between briefs, unsupervised moments – it was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure.

Then came this morning. Lando had been glued to his phone all breakfast, oblivious to the way your hand instinctively brushed against Carlos's under the table. But just as your fingers intertwined, Lando looked up, his gaze landing right on your neck. His eyes widened, then flickered to Carlos, who was sporting a matching mark.

The silence stretched, thick with dawning realization.

"What the…" Lando finally sputtered, his voice a strangled whisper.

Then, a volcano erupted.

"Y/N! Carlos!" Lando slammed his phone on the table, the clatter echoing off the metal walls. "What is this?!"

"Lando, it's not what—" you began, but he cut you off.

"Don't you dare lie to me!" His voice was laced with a fury you'd never heard before. "You two? Since when?"

Carlos opened his mouth to speak, but Lando wasn't done.

"I can't believe this! You, Carlos? You're supposed to be like family!"

"Lando, please," you pleaded, standing up. "We can explain."

"There's nothing to explain!" He threw his hands up in the air. "This is a disaster! You know I wouldn't have approved!"

"That's exactly why we didn't tell you," Carlos said, his voice surprisingly steady. "We were afraid of this reaction."

"Afraid? You should be ashamed!" Lando glared at both of you. "This is unprofessional. This makes things awkward. This messes with everything!"

And with that, he stormed out of the motorhome, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the entire vehicle.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You looked at Carlos, his expression mirroring your own – a mix of guilt, fear, and a stubborn determination to fight for what you had. You knew this wouldn't be easy, but one thing was clear – the secret was out. And the real race for your relationship had just begun.

The slam of the door echoed through the motorhome like a thunderclap, leaving behind a silence that vibrated with tension. You stared at the empty doorway, tears stinging your eyes. They spilled over unchecked, tracing a warm path down your cheeks.

Carlos reached out a hand, hovering hesitantly in the air before settling on your shoulder. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice laced with concern.

You turned to face him, tears blurring your vision. "What have we done?" you choked out, the question a ragged whisper.

Carlos flinched. "We… we just tried to be happy," he defended, his voice strained.

"But look at what it's done," you sobbed, gesturing towards the doorway. "Lando's furious. This is exactly what we were afraid of."

"We can talk to him," Carlos insisted, his jaw set. "Explain things better."

"Explain what, Carlos?" you snapped, a spark of anger igniting through your despair. "That we broke his trust? That we jeopardized everything for a few stolen moments?"

The anger in your voice seemed to take Carlos aback. He recoiled slightly, the hurt flickering in his eyes a fresh wound.

"That's not fair, Y/N," he said, his voice low. "We both knew the risks. We both wanted this."

"Maybe I shouldn't have," you mumbled, the words tasting like ash in your mouth.

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air. Carlos's eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Maybe this whole thing was a mistake," you said, your voice cracking. "Maybe we should have just—"

You couldn't finish the sentence. The regret in your voice, the implication that you wished you'd never let things go this far, ripped through Carlos like a punch to the gut. He felt a lump form in his throat, his own tears threatening to spill.

"Y/N," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't say that."

But you were already shaking your head, tears streaming down your face. "I can't do this anymore, Carlos," you said, your voice breaking. "This is tearing everything apart."

Without another word, Carlos turned and walked away. His broad shoulders slumped, his steps heavy with unspoken hurt. He didn't look back at you, and as the door to his room slammed shut with a dull thud, you sank to the floor, the weight of your words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You had just broken his heart, and in that moment, you weren't sure if you had broken yours too.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Regret, a bitter taste on your tongue, pushed you to find Lando. You found him on the balcony, overlooking the bustling racetrack, a world away from the storm brewing inside you. The sight of him, usually your confidant, now felt daunting.

Taking a deep breath, you approached him hesitantly. "Lando," you choked out, hating how shaky your voice sounded.

He turned, surprise flickering across his face before it settled into a guarded expression. "Y/N," he said simply, offering no invitation to sit.

You stood awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers. "Lando, I…" The words stuck in your throat. "I messed up. Big time."

The anger you'd seen in him earlier had morphed into a wary curiosity. He crossed his arms, waiting for you to continue.

Taking another deep breath, you launched into a monologue, your voice trembling. "It started with his eyes, Lando, the way they crinkle when he smiles. And his smile, oh God, his smile makes my heart skip a beat. And then there are his hugs… warm and safe, like a place I can always go home to. And his kisses," you whispered, the memory sending shivers down your spine, "like fireworks, Lando, exploding with a kind of magic I've never felt before."

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I love him, Lando. I never knew I could love someone like I love Carlos."

As you spoke, a figure appeared in the doorway, frozen in place. It was Carlos, his face a mask of pain, each word a fresh blow to his heart. But he couldn't tear himself away. He needed to hear it all.

You continued, your voice thick with emotion. "I panicked, Lando. I thought this would ruin everything, for you, for the team. But all I see is broken trust and a pain I caused the man I…" Your voice broke, a sob escaping your lips.

Lando watched you silently, his initial anger replaced by a flicker of understanding. He took a slow step towards you, his expression unreadable.

Then, to your surprise, he pulled you into a tight embrace. You buried your face in his shoulder, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "It's okay. You love him, I get it."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Just… promise you'll take care of each other. And promise me you won't keep things from me again."

A choked laugh escaped your lips. "I promise, Lando. I promise everything."

Suddenly, you felt a warm presence behind you. A tear slipped down your cheek as you turned to see Carlos standing there, his eyes red-rimmed, a tear tracing a similar path down his own face.

He didn't say a word. He simply walked towards you and pulled you into his arms, his embrace a silent promise. You buried your face in his chest, tears streaming down as the weight of the last few hours lifted.

Lando stepped back, a small smile playing on his lips. He watched for a moment, his heart heavy but strangely at peace. "Alright, lovebirds," he said, his voice gruff. "Let's not turn this balcony into a waterfall."

You both pulled away slightly, but Carlos kept his arm wrapped around you, his touch a warm anchor. You looked up at him, his eyes glistening.

"Thank you, Lando," Carlos said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Just don't break her heart," Lando warned, a hint of his usual playful banter returning. "She's the only sister I've got."

Carlos nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on you. "I won't," he vowed, his voice a husky whisper.

And you, nestled in Carlos's embrace, knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you wouldn't face them alone. You had love, forgiveness, and a newfound understanding – a foundation strong enough to weather any storm.

[lostgirlmuseum]

honey

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: Bucky notices you've been acting really strange lately... like, really strange. And flirty? What happened to you, and are your eyes... glowing?

Warnings: Mentions of reader having hair long enough to twirl, kissing w/o consent??? No use of y/n.

A/N: Hiiii. um. Is this bad? At first I didn't think so but then Idk I was like.. this isn't good. But then I was like, no it's fine... and then I was like no it's terrible, and now I'm like.. it's okay! I think? I'm sorry.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics, moodboard by me (more info at the end.)

It was late, and you felt sleep tug at your eyelids as you shut the door to the communal living room, a room you had to pass through to get to your bedroom. You were ready to get out of your street clothes, dry your damp hair, and get some shut-eye.

“Where have you been?” A gruff voice sounded and was quickly followed by the ‘click’ of a lamp and a dim light illuminating the figure seated in the corner of the room.

“Jesus!” You clutched your chest and nearly dropped your bag. “Fuck, Bucky, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing lurking in the dark?” You whispered harshly, although it was unnecessary. No one sleeping would be able to hear you from the living room.

“It’s three in the morning.” He stated, unmoving.

“I’m aware. Thanks.” 

“This is the sixth time in two weeks you’ve come home this late.” His voice remained low, his tone both bored and accusatory.

“So you’re watching me now?” You scoffed, your heartbeat finally slowing from his previous scare.

“Our rooms are right next to each other, I know when you’re not in there.” 

“Perv.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to ignore that.” 

“Good night,” you offered and began to leave the room.

“You haven’t answered my question yet.” He leaned forward in his seat and placed his forearms on his thighs.

“My whereabouts aren’t your business.” You stopped at the doorway and spoke over your shoulder.

“Your whereabouts became my business the second it started affecting your ability in the field.” He stood up and took a couple of steps towards you.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I worry that your negligence and refusal to take care of yourself is going to result in a failed mission, or maybe even you getting a fellow teammate hurt.”

“Aw, and for a second I thought you might actually care about me.” You faked a pout and continued your way down the hall and to your room. He followed you the entire way, not saying anything. 

“My abilities are fine,” you stated, holding your ID up to the pad that would scan and unlock your door.

“You’ve been missing morning training, you’re slower than usual, and you’ve practically been falling asleep in your breakfast.” He sidestepped you to get a better view of your face.

You ignored Friday’s “Welcome back,” chime and stepped inside your room.

“Careful now, or I might start to suspect you’re a stalker.” You teased and began to close your door on him, but he pushed it back open.

“And why the hell is your hair damp? Because I know it wasn’t raining outside.”

“I’m going to bed now, Barnes.”

“If you don’t tell me where you’ve been I’ll bring my concerns to Steve.”

You rolled your eyes at his intense stare. “I’ve been doing some research.”

“On?” He lowered his hand from the door at your answer, secretly surprised you’d actually given him something.

“Nunya.”

“What’s—”

“Nunya business,” you laughed and slammed the door shut before he realized what you’d done.

You stifled a laugh at the grumbles you heard from behind your door and imagined how funny he looked out there. Fool.

Bucky stood at the kitchen counter pouring syrup on his waffles, trying his hardest not to think about the events of last night. Just as his frustration was slipping his mind, he heard footsteps entering the room. 

“Hi,” he offered roughly, not bothering to look up from his waffles as he could sense that it was you.

“Hey, pretty baby.”

Bucky choked on air and dropped the syrup bottle onto his plate, regrettably spilling half the container onto his now soggy waffles.

“Wh—what?” he tried to compose himself, eyebrows pinched in shock and confusion as he finally looked up at you.

“Pass me that peach, won’t you? I’m famished.” You slid onto a seat at the counter that Bucky was on the other side of, and pointed to the fruit bowl to his right.

Bucky, suddenly too stunned to speak, wordlessly handed you the peach. Only after watching you take a couple of bites did he find his words again. 

“What’s up with you?” He asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

“A girl can’t be hungry?” You wiped some juice from your mouth with the back of your hand and tilted your head innocently.

“What are you wearing?” His gaze shifted to your glamorous outfit, one he was shocked that you owned. He had never seen you dressed up so much. 

“Oh, this?” You glanced down at your scarlet silk slip dress and set your peach on the counter. “Just a little something I found buried in the back of my closet. Do you like it?” You stood and gave him a little spin. 

Bucky blushed and snapped his mouth shut, wondering how long he had his jaw dropped. Before Bucky could process what was happening, you had made your way in front of him and grabbed his vibranium arm.

“Stunning,” you breathed, inspecting it like you’d never really noticed it before. Bucky continued to stare as you laced your fingers, of which were adorned by many rings, with his metal ones. You held it up appreciatively.

Bucky swallowed as his gaze found your wrist. “That’s Tony’s watch.”

“I found it. Shiny, right? He won’t miss it.” You giggled, continuing to ogle his hand.

Bucky began to utter your name, but the word was cut off by your pointer finger meeting his lips, effectively shushing him. 

“Don’t call me that,” you ordered, and Bucky could sense your hostility, though it was quickly fading.

“You mean your name?” He mumbled once your hand receded.

“Call me Honey.” You grinned, voice smooth and silky again.

“Why?”

You brought his metal hand up to hold your cheek and used your other hand to gently grab his chin. Bucky could’ve sworn your eyes had a subtle gold sheen. You watched his pinched brows rise as you guided his lips to yours. The kiss lasted no more than three seconds before you pulled away, smirking at the way he gawked.

“Because I’m sweet?” You brazenly offered, leaving him a final kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I’ll see you later,” you smiled and walked away without glancing back once.

Bucky stood dazed, jaw loosely open again, blue eyes wide. Snapping himself out of it, he looked at the clock. 9:32. Bucky was certain you first walked in at 9:20. How long had he been standing there alone in shock? 

He whipped his head around the room for any hidden cameras or even a sign that he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was daydreaming? But his eyes fell onto the half-eaten fruit abandoned on the counter, and he subconsciously licked his lips. 

A subtle peach flavor lingered on his tongue.

“You’re seriously telling me you haven’t noticed anything off about her?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Sam stretch for his run.

“I’ve hardly seen her lately,” Sam mumbled, bent over and touching his toes.

“She kissed me.”

“Ha, sure.” 

“Sam, she kissed me.”

“Wait,” Sam shot upwards and nearly tripped from the movement, “you’re serious? When? Why?”

“This morning. I don’t know why. She was acting—I don’t know! Weird!” 

“I would say kissing you is a solid indication of weirdness.”

Bucky ignored his comment.

“I swear, I saw her eyes glow…or shimmer, or something,” he added, looking off distantly.

“Cool it, loverboy,” Sam laughed.

“No,” Bucky grabbed Sam’s shoulder, tired of not being taken seriously, “I mean literally glow. Like, gold.”

“Where is she now?”

“Not sure.”

“Okay, well as long as she’s not hurting anybody I’m sure it’s nothing to be too concerned about. Maybe she’s wearing colored contacts? It’s a thing now.”

The next day Bucky knocked on your door. You opened it, and Bucky was surprised to see you covered in triple the amount of jewelry you had yesterday. Gold and silver bangles lined your arms, countless rings covered your fingers, and you even had some shiny new clips in your hair. He did notice that you still only had on a single necklace, the same golden topaz pendant you had yesterday.

“Hello, pretty boy.” You greeted, voice sickeningly sweet.

“Where did you go last night?” Bucky asked, straight to the point. He was more worried than ever now with your late-night adventures.

“Why? Worried I was with someone? Don’t be jealous, Darling.”

“You’re not in your right mind,” he said, catching the way your eyes shone again.

“My mind is perfectly clear, Sarge.” You smiled and shook your head at him like he was a child.

“I really don’t think so, ‘Honey’. Until yesterday, I wouldn’t have described you as a kleptomaniac.”

“It’s not a crime to like shiny things.” You laughed like he was the one being preposterous. 

“But it is a crime to steal them. Cough it up.” Bucky snapped his fingers and held his hand out. He knew none of them were yours, and he wondered how many unsuspecting strangers you managed to con.

“You’re such a tease.” You tried but saw that he wasn’t going to budge. “Ugh, fine.”

One by one, you removed your collection from your body, starting with your diamond earrings. Bucky continued to place the jewelry in his many jacket pockets as you handed them over.

“Tony’s watch, too,” he chided when he noticed you made no effort to remove it. You gave a dramatic huff and unclasped it.

You had given him everything except the necklace and he was getting impatient. 

“You’re being a child, give me the necklace—”

“No!” You screamed and swatted away his hand as it stretched toward your neck. “Don’t you fucking touch it.” You snarled.

“Jesus—” He nearly pissed his pants, he had never seen you so aggressive.

“I keep the necklace.” It was not a question.

“Fine.”

“You can leave. You’ve stolen my joy.” Your sultry and sweet demeanor had completely vanished, leaving you with a cold stare. 

It was clear the instant you bared your teeth at him that the necklace was the culprit of your personality transplant and gilded eyes. 

The big question was how was he going to get it off of you? And would taking it off of you be enough to fix you?

And does he even want to?

I mean, you are much nicer to him this way…

God, stop it Bucky! She needs your help. Start thinking with your brain.

Bucky cooked up a plan, and it involved more jewelry.

“I come with a peace offering.” Bucky knocked on your door, not too differently than how he did the day before.

“What is it?” You asked, cracking the door open in curiosity.

Bucky gave an awkward smile and held up a gold necklace he got Natasha to lend him.

“Oh my God, it’s magnificent,” you cooed, opening the door fully to let him in.

You had a one-track mind.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?” Bucky offered, hoping it would be that easy to fix you. It was simple—trade your cursed ‘voodoo doodoo’ necklace for a normal one.

“I’ll wear it later…I like the one I have on now.” You nodded, protectively clutching the golden gem.

Okay, so not as simple as he’d hoped.

“Fair enough. It is very pretty.”

“I know.” You smirked and took a seat on the side of your bed.

Bucky did his best to casually sit next to you.

“Where can I get one?” He asked, eyes lingering on your black skirt.

“You like shiny things too, handsome?” You asked, walking your fingers teasingly up his arm.

“Sure.” He suppressed a shiver as your fingers got closer to his neck.

“I hate to burst your bubble,” you laughed, bringing your hands to cup the pendant, “but this necklace is one of a kind.”

“And how did you get your hands on it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice light enough that you wouldn’t suspect his ulterior motive.

You bit your bottom lip as you thought of whether to tell him. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll tell you a little, but only because you’re so cute.”

Cute? Fuck, you might be more fucked up than he thought if you’re thinking he’s cute.

“Someone hired me a couple of weeks ago to find it. I guess they were a fan, familiar with my investigative research before joining your ‘big league’ Avengers. I did a lot of work to find this puppy.” Your eyes only seemed to glow brighter when you stared at it. 

Bucky knew he had to play this safe. If he took the immediate hostile route of ripping the necklace off of you, he’d be risking it failing, and then you wouldn’t trust him again. He realized he needed to give you another reason to get close to him, and his next thought made his cheeks warm.

“Why are you getting so blushy, soldier? Do I make you nervous?” You giggled.

“More than you realize,” he chuckled and let his gaze fall to his feet.

“You are just the sweetest thing. I’ve always taken a liking to you.”

“You have?” Bucky swung his head to you at your disclosure.

“How could I not?”

Come on Bucky. You can do this. Be a man.

You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this also a little bit for yourse— no, you’re doing this for her!

“Can I kiss you?” He rushed, his voice only cracking once.

“You don’t need to ask, sweet thing.”

Bucky took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not wanting to see your distorted honey eyes bore into his. He leaned forward, met your plush lips, and slid one hand to your shoulder. One second you’re kissing, and the next he’s yanking the chain from your neck so quickly that you barely had time to scream.

The impact of his effort left you falling onto the floor and clutching your neck, heaving like you’d just come up for air after being underwater for much too long.

Bucky called your name and fell to his knees beside you, instinctively putting a hand on your back to console you.

“Hey, you’re okay! You’re okay,”

You looked up from the carpet into his worried eyes and let out a sharp sob. 

“I don’t—I don’t even know what—” your stutters quickly dissolved and with a gasp, your hands flung from your neck to your mouth as if you couldn’t believe what you’d done. “Oh, Bucky, I’m so—I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, I know it wasn’t you,” he rushed, simply wanting that look off of your face.

“Stupid, so stupid,” you sputtered, and he couldn’t tell if you were referring to yourself or the necklace.

“Where did you get this?” Bucky asked, lifting the cursed pendant that he had yet to drop.

“A boat wreck just off the coast,” you said, itching at your neck.

“So that’s why your hair was wet…and someone’s been paying you? To find this?”

You nodded your head and pushed back the hair that fell into your face.

“Who?” Bucky gently grabbed your jaw to get you to look at him. “Why do they want it?”

“I don’t know, some art collector? They didn’t give me a name." You winced. "Can you please get that thing out of my sight? It’s making my head hurt.”

He glanced at the necklace, “Of course, I’m sorry,” and tossed it behind him.

You sat quietly for a moment, just thinking. You groaned and began to stand up. Bucky quickly offered his assistance.

“Buck, can we do this another night? I really just need to…I need to sleep this off I think.”

He quickly nodded, secretly embarrassed at being essentially kicked out, and shuffled to the door. Just as he was about to close it behind him, you called for him to wait. 

Confused, he turned to see you racing up to him. You stood, gave a shy grin, and leaned in to give him a light kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. "For saving me."

A chill crawled up Bucky’s spine. 

He barely caught the golden glint in your eyes.

A/N: Maybe I should've spent longer on this, but I just got to the point where I felt like I needed to just post it. Please let me know if you liked it!

My Masterlist

image 1 image 2 image 3

*I edited using good ol' picsart

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

I've just re-read my previous requested fic for tf 141 x reader with high pain tolerance, and I think we could extend this prompt (and as always you can take it or leave it, no pressure a yea 👍🏻)

What if TF 141 almost lost F!Reader again, this time she got caught by enemies and got tortured for crucial/classified information. While being tortured, you can't help but feel a little grateful that you have such an extreme pain tolerance. You finally managed to get out that place by your own (and of course after unaliving your enemies) and got back to your team. Men are worried as hell cause 1) you look like shit, like someone has just crawled out of hell (which in your part it isn't wrong), 2) the fact that you have extreme pain tolerance just make it worse

And when you finally got evaluated by medics, including clothes off, that's when they knew you'd have it worse than what they've imagined. Black-ish bruises almost every where, broken bones, dislocated joints, dried blood etc. It's heartbreaking seeing you like this. Probably some will have self blaming, guilty, rage, and other mixed emotions. Hmm imagine the heavy angst but also the massive comfort after that.

Thankskie 🦈

Summary: high pain tolerance F!Reader get tortured, after you getting rescued, enjoy the FLUFF between you and TF141

cw: very slight gore (interrogation), canon swearing, canon violence

blahaj, FLUFF, TF141*F!Reader

last req about high pain tolerance F!Reader

Oh, This isn’t great. You probably going to die this time.

You licked your chapped lips, the bitterness of iron is obnoxious, making you regret the motion and go back to try to piece together your memories again.

You counted the time when you first got caught, but after endless rounds of interrogations, your mind is too hazy to keep up the measurement.

With your hands bounding tightly on your back, chains and steel bars preventing your legs from moving, all you can do is just prey for your teammates to come.

At least you aren’t afraid, no fear of death, nor fear of pain. It’s always these moments that you feel grateful for having almost no feelings of pain, it makes you keep composed and adamant.

Well, starving kind of sucks though, you guess you’ll even devour those vegetables you hated and shoved into Kyle’s plate if it’s presented to you.

Your mind wanders, from your pudding hiding in the deepest part of the fridge in case someone (Soap) eats it, to how Price will scold your ears off for being too reckless when you’re back, until the footsteps outside the door remind you to concentrate.

Damn, you need to get out alive if you want to listen to your dear Captain recite the rules.

The door creaks open with the broad man stepping in and his dogs tailing after with weapons.

The cool water gets splashed on your face when the man stands still in front of you.

“New toy, yeah?” you spot the machete in the man’s grip

“Glad to see you awake, sergeant?” The man laughs “Seems like the mouth still works pretty well, I hope your mind is clear too so we can cooperate perfectly today.”

“Sober enough to tell you ‘no’, I guess”

Red pours from your shoulder the second after your taunt, and you frown slightly at the little sting.

“Fucking bitch still has a sharp tongue after these wounds...” He eyes down at you with a bit of disbelief.

Even though you can’t see yourself, you know you look like shit either. Burnings from the lighters, slash wounds from various tactical knives, dark bruises forming on your thigh and other parts after countless punches and kicks.

All you need to do is buy time, but even if you barely feel pain, you still will die from blood loss if this keeps going.

The rest of the interrogation is just adding more injuries to your broken body, and your consciousness starts fading.

You really want to take a nap... but will you wake up again? you’re not sure especially when another smash lands on the back of your head.

Just about minutes before you sure will pass out again, you hear the noise. Gunfire, yelling, screaming of a massacre.

They arrived...

“Go check what’s wrong.” The broad man gestures, and one of his subordinates walks out to

“Guess your saviors have come... now” You look straight into the man ’s eyes when he puts the muzzle between your eyes. “No time for playing, one last time, tell me the people gave you the intel.”

The chaos outside is getting louder and closer. Buy time, you tell yourself again, so you whisper

“Okay... Okay... I will tell you, please don’t kill me, please...” You sniff, and start sobbing while your head stays lowered.

“Finally giving up, huh? Tell me, I need their name, who do they belong.” The smirk on the man’s face gets wider, god, you really want to punch his face.

“It’s...” You murmur, and the man leans closer to hear clearly.

“It’s go fuck yourself, you bloody bastard.” You spit the blood on his face and grin like a maniac.

and the door swings open, the gunshot splatters the man’s blood on your face, but you don’t care.

You win.

“Hey, guys, long time no see.” You smile at your teammates after the man collapses beside you.

“You’re fine now, don’t worry, we got you.” Soap rushes to your side “Price is calling the exfil, Ghost and Gaz are outside making sure everything’s clear.”

“Thanks...” You melt into Soap’s arm when he unties the rope and carries you.

“I tell the bastard to go fuck himself, hehe.”

“Stop talking, bonnie, ye need to rest.”

“Did I do great?”

“Yes.” The gravel voice of Soap’s becomes softer as he answers.

“May I rest now?” you blink slowly.

“Of course, lassie.”

Getting the confirmation, The warmth radiating from Soap is too soothing, you want to tell him how much you miss them, but those words are unable to come out as you get dragged into a coma instantly.

“damn...”

Your eyelids flutter open, the familiar white ceiling is the first thing you see.

“Morning, bonnie, how do ye feel?”

“dizzy as fuck.”

“pain?”

“Nah.”

“Sometimes I think you’re not human...” Soap laughs, but he’s worried, or worried can’t describe his mood when he saw your wounds as you were sent into the infirmary.

That day when they back to base, all of them followed you, and didn’t pay any mind about getting their gears off first.

You looked like someone who just found her way out of hell, beautiful face swollen, large bruises spread across your skin like some nasty paintings, and the situation was worse than they expected after the medics cut your clothes off and started their evaluation.

Soap couldn’t forget the rage swallowing him like flames when he saw what you went through in those days, the more wounds they spotted, the more tension in the air became more insufferable.

Gaz and he cursed when they saw the huge burn on your back, skin obviously inflamed, and when the deep cuts that exposed the bones revealed from the cover, he noticed Ghost clenching his fist to suppress anger.

Price stormed out of the infirmary and called Laswell between the medics surmising how many of your bones were broken.

“Wait...” your voice pulls Soap back to reality “blahaj! 4 blahaj! Where do they come from?”

“Price gave them to you, as rewards for your hard work. He said you keep rambling about wanting to have one.”

“awwww” Soap grins as he watches you struggle to hug all of them at one time.

“There ya go.” He helps adjust the plushies so you can get them all in your arms.

“Oh yeah, where’s others?”

“Price’s on op, will be back in a week. Ghost and Gaz will visit you soon.”

“Hmmmm.”

You caress one of the blahaj’s head and turn your face

“Thank you.” you grin “For coming to save me.”

“What are you talking about?” Covering his hand on yours, he looks into your eyes, without those playful glints in his azure ones.

“We’re a team, or more than a team. Ye think we will throw ye there and do nothing?”

The seriousness on his face infatuates you, you meet his gaze without darting, and finally, break into tender giggles.

“yeah, sorry, you’re right.” You chuckle “You know what? In that basement, All I wanted was to get out of there and come back to eat my pudding.”

“Pudding?”

“Yeah, I have one in the fridge.” nodding in excitement, you continue “I should ask the doctor if I can eat it.”

“Wait that’s yours?!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ehhh...” Soap’s smile freezes on his face under panic “I ate it.”

“...”

Soap MacTavish gets kicked out of the room with a new mission: buy 10 puddings.

When Gaz knocks on the door and steps into your ward, you are staring out the window, but turn to him immediately when you hear his arrival.

“Hey, Kyle.” You wave with your better hand.

“Feel better?” The sugar-coated smile he has always provides you with energy, your mood lights up as he takes the seat beside your bed.

“mmhmm, not that dizzy anymore.”

“loves those sharks very much?” He points at the blahajs you squeeze close to you.

“Damn, they’re my new babies now.” You show Gaz each of them.

“This is Pricey, this is Ghostie, this is Gazzy, and this is Soapy.” Proudly introducing them to Gaz, you give the sharkies a few pats.

“Such Innovative names, hm?”

“I don’t think Gaz is some special name too, Kyle.”

You both giggle at the stupid names you granted to the sharks, while Gaz lands his eyes on your arm hanging mid-air, his laughter gradually comes to a halt.

“Hey.” He watches you raise an eyebrow when he calls you “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Just...” His eyes stay on your bruises, traveling along them, and he hates that they lead his gaze to roam your whole figure. “We should be there faster.”

His brown eyes are full of distress when they meet yours again.

“Garrick, come closer.” You beckons, and he follows suit.

“Don’t apologize. When I saw all of you on that goddamn chair, I knew I was safe now.” You cradle his cheek in your palm “You guys are my shelter, my home, and I never thought the chance that my team wouldn’t save me, Soap said it yesterday, and I’m sure you’re the same, yes?”

“Of course.” His eyes soften, and you return him a reassuring smile when

“Time for you to go train the rookies, right?” Shooting a glimpse at the clock, you ask.

“yeah, time to deal with those troubles.” He stands up from the chair and looks down at you “See you, lovie.”

“see ya.”

You watch him walk towards the door, but stop after a few steps.

“Why does Soapy have a huge dent on his head?”

“Oh.” You pout “He ate my pudding, so I punched his shark since I can’t spar with him now.” another punch hit Soapy when you finish speaking.

“Wow...”

Gaz mourns for his brother’s future with his whole heart.

“Still awake?” The gruff yet gentle voice floats into your ear the moment the door slides open.

“Been sleeping the whole day, LT.”

Ghost watches you shift, and lies on your side to face him.

“How’s the day, Ghost?”

“Shit as usual.”

“How about seeing me, feel better?”

“Feels worse.”

“Hey, honesty is a virtue but not here.”

He scoffs at your retort as he observes your face.

“The bruises on your face look smaller.” Ghost indicates.

“Oh yeah, my face! How does it look like?” You point at the hand mirror Gaz brings you, and after Ghost hands it to you, you open the lid.

“Jesus Christ!” you shout when the reflection shows you how shit you look like “I’m so ugly right now!”

“We all know.”

“Damn, if there’s an award for honesty, you will be the winner, Simon.” You throw the mirror back into his grip.

“Will you congratulate me?”

“I will give you an ‘I’m a winner’ sticker for you to paste on your mask.”

He chuckles at your banter, but you can sense his exhaustion, from his limp body to his half-lid eyes.

“You’re tired, Simon. Go back to rest.” You coo softly.

“I’m not leaving until you sleep.”

“but I’m not that sleepy now.”

“Should I sing you a lullaby, sergeant?”

“I’m afraid that my ears don’t have the honor the hear your beautiful singing, Sir.” you feign an ‘oh hell no’ face to him, but your eyes light up when an idea comes to mind.

“Hey, how about you lie on my bed? it can fit 2 people.”

“I don’t know you’re such an active woman.”

“Fuck you, Simon. If you want me to fall asleep then get on the bed right now!”

Sighs in compromise, Ghost rises from the chair and sits on the edge of your bed with a grunt, and you scoot inward to leave him more space to lie down.

“You’re like a bear, Ghost, I’m gonna squash into a pie by you and the blahajs!”

“Then throw those bloody sharks on the floor.”

“No! they’re Tf141 blahaj!” You pet the one in your arms when Ghost gives you a confused face. “This is you, Ghost.”

“The real Ghost is beside you and you choose him over a fake one?”

“I don’t know you’re that active, lieutenant.”

You smirk at him, he’s only wearing a balaclava, so you’re able to see the corner of his eyes crinkle at your words.

But Ghost must have some magic, you grow sleepier under his presence, maybe it’s his steady breath sounds like a lullaby, or it’s because safety he always generously offers to you.

“Sleepy now?” He speaks slowly and quietly as if he’s fear of scaring your sleepiness away.

“a bit...” A big yawn answers the question better than your slurry voice.

“Close your eyes then.”

“mmm.”

You secure the Ghostie blahaj in a tight embrace as you follow Ghost’s command.

you feel light pats on your non-injured part, and you scoot closer to the bulky man, letting him lead you into a peaceful sleep.

Ghost watches you fall asleep, and he moves off the bed as gently as he can.

“Sweet dreams.” He chants in a low voice, and he takes other sharks in his hand, placing them closer to you.

Making sure the sharks are cuddling you, he leaves like a ghost in the serene silence.

You look down at yourself, ankles tied to the chair, blood dripping from the knife that’s barely in your sight.

Aren’t you already out of that basement...?

Is it all a dream? In reality, you’re still getting interrogated?

You try to fixate on the noise outside the door, but you feel the cold metal touching your forehead.

Am I never going to see them again? I want to see them again...

I want to hear Price’s praises, want to hear Soap and Gaz fighting over the last biscuit, want to hear Ghost’s annoyed voices at my frolic.

Tears gather in your eyes when you hear the click from turning off the safety of the gun.

“... geant...sergeant... sergeant.”

“Ahh!” You let out a yell as you snap your eyes open, which are wide with horror.

“Cap-Captain...” You pant whilst you recognize the person pulling you from your nightmare.

“Yes, it’s me, love. You’re safe now, you’re in the base, infirmary, remember?” He caresses your hair to calm you down.

Oh, yes, you aren’t in that basement. You’re back.

You’re with the people you love.

“Why are you here, Captain?” after you breathe steadily again, you notice it’s 1 am, and the aisle outside is silent.

“Just came back from the op, and want to see you.”

“You should have some rest, Price.”

“You mean I leave now even when you just woke up from a nightmare?” He crooks his eyebrows.

“Well...”

“Be selfish, love. I will stay here.”

“You don’t blame me for being too stupid and getting caught by the enemy?”

“Things went south sometimes.” He shakes his head “It’s not your fault.”

“...”

“Say it, luv.” He encourages you when you hesitate.

“I...” “I thought I was not afraid of anything... at least in that basement, pain’s not a big deal for me, starvation is bearable, and death... if that means I won’t lose to those dorks, then it’s nothing to me.”

Price gives you a grunt as acknowledgement, so you continue.

“but... I think I’m still afraid of dying...” You fidget your fingers “I want to see all of you again... I want to come back to you.”

“I don’t want to die...”

You haven’t noticed tears staining your cheeks until Price’s finger — calloused yet warm — wipes the tears away.

“We all know you’re brave, kid.” Price cups your face, hand barely touches your skin, must be avoiding trigger your pain, but you don’t care, nor you can feel the pain, you shove your cheek in it and earn a chuckle from the man.

“Your high pain tolerance makes you look forward to your target without worrying yourself, but keep in mind.”

“Don’t make us worry, you need to come back to us, we can’t lose you, just like you can lose us. Understood?”

“Yes, Capt.”

“You want to go back to sleep?”

“If you tell me a bedtime story, then I will.” the mischievous grin returns to your face.

“Greedy, eh? I thought those sharks could satisfy you.”

“I want your bedtime story too.”

“How about I tell you a story about how to become an attentive soldier?”

“Fuck you, Captain.”

You hit Price with the plushie, which he catches easily, and put it on his lap, letting you give the shark little punches to drain your excessive energy, as he starts telling what happened when he met Soap the first time.

You aren’t afraid of pain, and you become an undaunted person on the battlefield. Yet still, you now keep in mind that there are people who love you, and are worried about you.

You all are a team, a home, and a haven for each other, always by each other’s side, or waiting for others to return safely.

and it’s really nice to be able to come back home.

a/n: thanks for reading! and thank you sharkie for the request, I hope you will like it (or not too disappointed) !! :D

Have a nice day/night, everyone!

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙we're over | MV1 DR3˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: max verstappen x fashion designer!reader y/n (she/her) x daniel ricciardo

genre: social media au

warnings: none just fluff

summary: in which they are over (this time) and she has space for someone else in her heart

a/n: LOVE this request hehe ty so fun to do an alternative ending!!!

request!!!: hi! just saw your requests were open and i was wondering if you'd do a version of do-over where they don't get back together and she ends up with someone else(doesn't have to be on the grid could be like a hockey boy or anyone)

fc: maggie lindemann

my masterlist

original ending

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, yoursister, and 83,238 others

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 927,194 others

yourusername heard you need inspiration

view all 18,293 comments

yourbff my girl forever nd ever ⭐️

liked by yourusername

user1 new fan gained

user2 omg i rmmbr her from when she dated max & now im just rediscovering her she's sooo gorgeous wtaf

user3 i can't believe max fumbled her

user4 my competition for her hand jus tripled

user5 quadruped more like

user6 max verstappen found dead

user7 cant wait for a new collection

yourusername posted a story

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, and 318,928 others

ynupdates I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername i love u 🫀🫀

user8 u are fr the coolest girl in the world

yoursister so proud of you 🥹

yourusername stop it you'll make me emotional 😭

user9 you are so so loved

user10 nothing you could've said would put us off supporting u forever 🤘

messages →

instagram ->

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 719,948 others

maxverstappen1 life lately ⏰

view all 15,283 comments

user11 waiting for y/n to follow him back

user12 he re-followed her?!?!

user13 i need to know what's going on have they spoken since the podcast?!!

user14 exes to lovers whennnn

user15 he's so cute

landonorris why is your comment section so full up of drama max

maxverstappen1 i didnt ask for this

user16 max is so tired of us LOL

user17 not sorry

user18 i love drama

user19 max acting dumb like he didnt post this to get her attention

messages ->

instagram ->

ynupdates

liked by user17, user3, and 18,294 others

ynupdates y/n y/l/n spotted tonight outside a restaurant with f1 driver daniel ricciardo, following the release of a podcast episode on which y/n discussed her feelings on how her previous relationship (with max verstappen) played out. this comes following speculation about y/n and max rekindling their romance, but she has perhaps moved on to his ex-teammate and friend instead. we are sending our love to y/n as always!

view all 6,183 comments

user20 omg what is happening

user21 wtf is she on a date with daniel???

user22 & i was so certain her & max would get back together....

user23 maybe she's trying to make him jealous 😂

user24 some of u guys are delulu af

user25 what i would give to be a fly on the wall

user26 i hope he treats her well

yourusername

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 798,373 others

yourusername never lonely 🖤

view all 6,183 comments

user27 omg first time we've seen y/n with her guitar in ages

user28 the guitar omg

yourbff best girl in the world

yourusername i love u

yoursister hard at work or hardly working?

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twitter ->

instagram ->

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ynupdates posted a story

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liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 828,045 others

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view all 5,921 comments

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liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 982,193 others

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view all 21,283 comments

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view all 34,838 comments

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THE END 🤍

[kentobb]

The Bet (Part Six)

Characters: College! Sukuna x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Emotional Damage. Yes, ladies and gentlemen… this is the moment. Mention of smut, virginity loss. Foul Language. Physical fight perhabs? Bullying. Etc etc

Author’s note: After this part, part 7,8 and 9 will come in around five (days). I’m still working 😭 and currently am in Belgium rn. But, reading your comments make my day and push me into writing 🩷 love yall

Part 01

Sukuna woke up the next morning to the gentle light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He turned to see you lying beside him, the blanket covering your naked body, your face peaceful and serene as you slept. His heart swelled with affection as he watched you, the events of the previous night replaying in his mind.

He reached out, gently caressing your hair, his fingers threading through the silky strands. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, savoring the quiet moment of intimacy. You stirred slightly but didn't wake, a small smile playing on your lips.

He carefully slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants before quietly making his way to the kitchen. He found Yuuji there, already up and munching on a bowl of cereal.

"Morning," Yuuji said with a mischievous grin. "So…”

Sukuna rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle. "Shut up, idiot.”

Yuuji laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Thought I heard some heavy furniture rearranging going on."

Sukuna shook his head, amused. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Yuuji shrugged, grinning. "Hey, someone's got to keep things interesting around here."

Sukuna prepared a pot of coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. He poured himself a cup and then set about making a hot chocolate for you, knowing it was your favorite. As he stirred the warm drink, he felt a sense of contentment and joy he hadn't known he needed.

Carrying the drinks carefully, he made his way back to the bedroom. The smell of the hot chocolate must have reached you, as you were starting to wake, eyes fluttering open. You smiled sleepily when you saw him, face lighting up with love.

"Good morning," you murmured, leaning up to kiss him.

"Morning," Sukuna replied, handing you the cup. "I made you your favorite."

You took the cup with a grateful smile, savoring the first sip of the hot chocolate. "Thank you, Kuna."

Sukuna sat down on the edge of the bed, watching you with a tender expression. "How are you feeling after last night?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with concern and love.

You blushed slightly, setting the cup down. "A little sore," you admitted, your voice shy but happy.

He leaned in, kissing your forehead gently. "My bad. I got excited. Stay in bed and rest. We will have a lazy day.”

You looked up at him, eyes shining with gratitude and love. "You don't have to do that, I know you have practice for the game."

"I want to," Sukuna insisted, his voice firm but gentle. "You mean the world to me, and I want to make sure you're okay. Plus, the game is in two days.”

You nodded, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "Thank you."

Sukuna stayed in bed with you, despite knowing he was supposed to be at practice. His phone buzzed with calls from his teammates, but he quickly set it to "Do Not Disturb," deciding that nothing was more important than this moment with you.

He reached over to the bedside table, grabbed the remote, and turned on a movie. As the film started playing, he gently caressed your hair, his fingers moving softly through the strands. He watched you closely, observing the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his.

From the living room, he heard the jingle of keys and the familiar voices of Yuuji and Choso. "We're going out," Yuuji called out.

"Okay," Sukuna replied, knowing this meant he would have the apartment for himself.

He turned his attention back to you, a smile playing on his lips. "Looks like we've got the place to ourselves," he said softly, leaning down to kiss you.

You giggled, your laughter like music to his ears. "Good, I like having you all to myself."

Sukuna laughed, positioning himself on top of yoi, bodies fitting together perfectly. He kissed you deeply, connection palpable. As he pulled back, his eyes were filled with warmth and affection.

Trailing his hand down your thigh, he felt you shiver under his touch. He looked at you, seeing the same lust and desire in your eyes that he felt coursing through him. You gazed up at him, your eyes dark and inviting.

Sukuna bit his lip, struggling to contain his own desire. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "Good," you whispered, your voice teasing. "I like knowing I have that effect on you."

The playful banter was interrupted by another kiss, this one even more intense. Sukuna's hand continued to explore, moving with a gentle yet deliberate purpose. He felt you respond, your body arching towards his touch, your breath hitching in anticipation.

The movie played in the background, forgotten as you both lose yourself in each other. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word brought you closer, deepening your bond.

Sukuna's hands roamed over your body, memorizing every curve, every reaction. He wanted to make sure you felt as cherished and loved as you made him feel. Your hands moved up his back, your touch sending shivers down his spine.

For a moment, he paused, looking into your eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, your eyes shining with trust and love. "I'm perfect," you whispered.

With a smile, Sukuna leaned down and kissed you again, pouring all his feelings into that one moment.

The next day, Sukuna walked into basketball practice, feeling a noticeable spring in his step. The entire team was abuzz with excitement since tomorrow was the big game. And he needed to be his best since he already lost one day of practice. His teammates quickly noticed the change in him—he seemed different, almost glowing with a newfound energy and happiness.

As they warmed up, Geto and Gojo exchanged knowing glances. "Look at him," Geto whispered to Gojo. "Our boy looks like he's walking on air."

Gojo smirked. "About time."

The coach blew the whistle, signaling the start of their practice play. They ran through drills, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor and the thud of the ball echoing in the gym. The heat in the gymnasium soon had everyone drenched in sweat.

"Alright, shirts off!" the coach called out, and the players quickly complied, tossing their shirts aside.

As Sukuna pulled off his shirt, a collective gasp went through the team. His back was covered in red marks, clear evidence of a…passionate night. His teammates' eyes widened, and then, almost in unison, they broke into laughter and teasing.

"Damn, Sukuna! Those are some serious battle scars!" Geto hollered, slapping Sukuna on the back.

"Looks like someone had a fun night," Todo added, winking.

Gojo, standing nearby, couldn't help but laugh. "Sukuna, I didn't know you were into competitive sports off the court too," he teased, grinning widely.

Sukuna rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his smile. "You guys are impossible."

Geto leaned in, pretending to inspect the marks more closely. "Those scratches… so you popped your cherry?”

Sukuna chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah.”

Gojo, still laughing, gave Sukuna a friendly nudge. "I'm happy for you, man. Seriously."

Sukuna felt a sense of relief wash over him. Despite the teasing, he knew his friends were genuinely happy for him. They knew him well enough to see that this wasn't just some girl—he was genuinely in love. And he was sure that you are the love of his life.

As practice continued, the teasing didn't stop, but it was all in good fun. Sukuna felt more connected to his team than ever. They ran through a practice play, working in perfect sync. Sukuna dribbled the ball down the court, passed it to Gojo, who feigned a shot before passing it back. Sukuna jumped, shooting the ball through the hoop with a perfect swish.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Yuuji cheered from the sidelines along with Choso, clapping loudly.

As they gathered for a break, panting and sweating, Sukuna couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. He had his team, his friends, and now, he had you. Life felt perfect…

Almost… too perfect.

The team had put in a solid practice session, and as the sun began to set, the coach blew the final whistle. "Alright, that's enough for today. Rest up for tomorrow's game. We need you all at your best," he announced.

The players dispersed, chatting and laughing as they grabbed their things. Sukuna gathered his gear, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation for the big game. He waved to his teammates and headed toward the locker room.

As Gojo watched Sukuna leave, he noticed a familiar figure lurking by the entrance. Mei Mei. He sighed, rolling his eyes, not particularly thrilled to see her. As Sukuna walked away, oblivious, Mei Mei approached Gojo.

"So," she began, her voice dripping with curiosity, "Heard they haven’t done it. That means that sooner or later I’m receiving that call…”

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are out of the loop, aren't you? Isn’t a little weird that you’re obsessed with his sex life?” He sighed, “But if you really want to know… they did it. And guess what? He is still in love. So whatever idea you had… it just that… an idea.”

Mei Mei's confident facade cracked, her eyes widening in shock and hurt. "What?" she whispered, the reality of her lost opportunity sinking in.

Gojo stepped closer, his expression hardening. He was fed up with her games and manipulation. “This black mail of yours? You can shove it up your ass. I’m not doing this shit anymore. You can say and do whatever you want. You know why Mei Mei?” Gojo stepped even closer, “Because no matter what you do or say, Sukuna is never coming back to you.”

Mei Mei flinched, tears welling up in her eyes.

“You have been black mailing me foe two months and haven’t do shit…" Gojo cut her off, his voice icy and ruthless. "You had your chance, and you blew it. He's happy now, and nothing you do is going to change that. You're nothing to him. Just a mistake he made once. Move on and stop embarrassing yourself."

Her tears began to fall, her composure crumbling completely. "Does hurting a woman feeling makes you feel good, Gojo?”

"Pathetic, I can’t consider you one," Gojo spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think you can just waltz back into his life and everything will go back to the way it was? Grow up, Mei Mei. He's with someone who actually cares about him, who he actually cares about. You? You're just a bitter memory."

Mei Mei's sobs grew louder, but Gojo didn't let up. "Do us all a favor and disappear. No one wants you here. You're nothing but a toxic presence, and Sukuna deserves better than that. Better than you."

With that, Gojo turned and walked away, leaving Mei Mei standing there, her composure shattered. She stood frozen for a moment before slumping against the wall, tears streaming down her face as she cried silently in the corner.

Gojo didn't look back. He felt a sense of justice in finally telling her off. Sukuna deserved to be happy, and he wouldn't let anyone jeopardize that, especially not Mei Mei. As he caught up with the rest of the team, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

Or so he thought.

Mei Mei lay on her bed, tears streaming down her face as she replayed the harsh words Gojo had hurled at her. She felt a deep sadness, a gnawing regret that things had not gone as she had hoped with Sukuna. She felt uneasy, her heart heavy with the realization that she had lost him.

The door creaked open, and Utahime entered the room they shared. She walked over to Mei Mei's side of the bed and sat down gently. "Hey, what happened?" Utahime asked softly, her voice filled with concern.

Mei Mei looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "It's over," she said, her voice breaking. "Sukuna is in love with another girl. It's not me."

Utahime's heart ached for her friend. She tried to comfort her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Mei Mei.”

Mei Mei shook her head, tears still flowing. "I don't understand what he sees in her. She's the complete opposite of the type of girl he usually dates."

Utahime tried to soothe her but Mei Mei's sadness quickly turned into anger. Her fists clenched, and her expression hardened. "But if he wants to play like that, then lets do that. If I am loosing… he is loosing with me.”

Utahime's eyes widened with concern. "Mei Mei, what are you thinking?"

Mei Mei's eyes blazed with determination. "I'm going to tell her. I'm going to tell her about the bed.”

Utahime's heart raced with worry. "Mei Mei, do you think that’s a good idea? What are you gaining with that?”

But Mei Mei was resolute. "His lost.” She smiled through the pain.

Utahime could see the storm brewing in her friend's eyes, and she knew there was little she could do to dissuade her. She watched helplessly as Mei Mei's sadness transformed into a vengeful resolve.

"Please, Mei Mei, think about this," Utahime pleaded. "Hurting her won't make you feel better. It will only create more pain."

Mei Mei shook her head, her mind made up. "I don’t fucking care about her. This isn’t about you. This is about him.”

Utahime sighed, knowing that trying to stop Mei Mei would be futile. She could only hope that her friend would come to her senses before doing something she would regret.

Mei Mei stood up, wiping away her tears, her expression set in determination. "The game is tomorrow. I will give him revenge.” she declared, her voice filled with a mix of pain and anger, “In a cold plate.”

Utahime watched her friend leave the room, her heart heavy with worry.

The day of the big game had finally arrived, and the court was filled with people buzzing with excitement. The atmosphere was electric, the stands packed with cheering fans ready to support their team. Sukuna walked toward the court with you his side. You wore his jersey number proudly, your face adorned with makeup in the colors of his team.

"Good luck," you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. Sukuna pulled you closer, deepening the kiss and touching the heart locket he had given you. You smiled against his lips, feeling the warmth of his love.

"I love you," Sukuna whispered, his eyes locking with yours.

"I love you. I’ll be watching you," you replied, your voice filled with encouragement and affection.

Sukuna reluctantly let go of you and headed to the locker room, while you made your way to the stands to find your seat. You spotted Yuuji and Choso, who waved enthusiastically when they saw you. You hugged them both tightly, feeling a sense of camaraderie and support.

"Hey, you are here!” Yuuji exclaimed, grinning widely.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world," you replied, taking your seat beside them.

Choso leaned in, a playful smirk on his face. "Ready to see your boyfriend in action?"

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "Absolutely. I know he's going to be amazing."

The game had just started, and the energy in the court was electrifying. Players moved swiftly, and the crowd's cheers echoed throughout the gym. Gojo was on the court with Sukuna, focused on the game. Suddenly, Gojo's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text message from Mei Mei:

Evil cunt: “Good luck finding a new friend 🩷.”

Gojo's eyes widened in shock as he looked up and scanned the crowd. His heart started pounding when he spotted Mei Mei making her way towards you. Panic set in as he realized what she was about to do.

"No fucking way.” Gojo muttered under his breath, his anxiety skyrocketing.

Sukuna noticed Gojo’s sudden change in demeanor. He followed Gojo's gaze and saw Mei Mei approaching you. Fear gripped him as he quickly put two and two together. Mei Mei knew about the bet and was going to tell you about it.

Sukuna’s heart raced as he made eye contact with Gojo. The unspoken understanding between them was immediate. Without a second thought, Sukuna sprinted off the court, pushing through the crowd to get to you.

Yuuji and Choso, watched in confusion as he suddenly sprinted off the court. You were bewildered, eyes following his hurried movements. In the midst of the commotion, Mei Mei slipped into the seat next to you, a sinister smile playing on her lips.

Yuuji's eyes widened in shock as he recognized Mei Mei. "What are you doing here?" he asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

Mei Mei ignored Yuuji and turned to you, pulling out a hundred-dollar bill and handing it to you. "Here, this is for Sukuna," she said sweetly, her tone dripping with malice.

You took the bill, confusion deepening. "What is this for?"

Mei Mei giggled, enjoying the unfolding drama. "It's for Sukuna. He won the bet."

Your eyes widened in shock. "What bet?"

Mei Mei's smile widened, turning vicious. "Gojo made a bet with Sukuna to hook up with the girl that nobody wanted." She looked at you up and down.

The color drained from your face as realization dawned. You were… a bet? Yuuji stood up abruptly, anger flashing in his eyes. "Get the fuck out!”

But before Mei Mei could respond, Sukuna arrived, his eyes locking onto you, holding the hundred-dollar bill, your face pale and your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. He could see that you were starting to have a panic attack.

Mei Mei turned to Sukuna, her smile triumphant. "She needed to know the truth," she said smugly.

Sukuna's anger flared. "What was the point of that?” he demanded, his voice trembling with fury.

Mei Mei shrugged, her expression cold. "Now we've both lost something we love," she said simply, before turning and walking away, leaving chaos in her wake.

The crowd around them had gone silent, everyone watching the unfolding drama with morbid curiosity. Whispers spread like wildfire, and you felt the weight of their judgment, embarrassed and humiliated.

Sukuna stood there, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the scene fold. You clutched the hundred-dollar bill with your trembling hand, Sukuna felt a wave of panic wash over him. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let Mei Mei destroy everything.

Sukuna reached out to touch you, to comfort you but you slapped his hand away, your voice breaking as you spoke. "Don't. Just... don't."

Yuuji, still standing, tried to intervene. "Let's get you out of here," he said gently, looking at you with concern.

Choso joined hun, his expression serious. "Come on, let's go somewhere private."

He tried to approach you again, to say something, anything that would calm you down. “Hey, please. Let’s talk about this,” he pleaded, but you didn’t seem to hear him. Eyes were glazed over with pain and confusion, and you started to gather your things, your movements shaky and disjointed.

Sukuna’s heart broke as he saw you like this. He took a step closer, trying to reach out to you. “Please, don’t go. Just listen to me for a moment,” he begged, his voice trembling.

But you continued to walk away, your steps unsteady. Sukuna couldn’t bear it. He decided to go towards you, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate hug. You struggled against him, your hands hitting his chest as you cried out, sobs wracking your body. “Let go of me! Let go!” You screamed, your voice filled with anguish.

Sukuna held on, his own tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. Please, I love you. Just listen to me,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

With a sudden burst of strength, you pushed him away, your hands trembling with rage and hurt. You slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. Sukuna stood there, stunned, his cheek stinging from the impact. He looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow and desperation.

“I can explain,” he started, his voice cracking. “There was a bet at first, yes. But everything changed when I got to know you. I fell in love with you. The bet meant nothing. You mean everything to me.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face, ruining your makeup. “How can I believe you now? Everything was a lie. I was just a joke to you… I was just the virgin girl that you needed to fuck?” you spat, your voice filled with bitterness.

Sukuna took a step closer, his hands outstretched in a plea. “No, it wasn’t like that. I swear. You’re not a joke. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You turned away from him, your shoulders shaking with sobs. “I feel so stupid for believing in you. For thinking that someone like you could be with someone like me,” you cried, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna’s heart shattered at your words. He reached out, his voice desperate. “Please, don’t say that. I love you. I really do. Please, believe me.”

You touched the heart locket he had given you, your fingers trembling. It had been a symbol of his love, a promise he had made. But now, it felt like a cruel joke. Your hands shook violently as you grabbed the necklace, your knuckles white with the strain.

With a swift motion, you tore the necklace off and walked toward him. You thrust it into his hand, your eyes filled with tears and anger. “I don’t want to see you again,” you said, your voice breaking.

Sukuna stood there, the necklace heavy in his hand, feeling like the weight of his world had just collapsed. “Please, baby. Believe me.” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

But you had already turned away, walking down the hallway with your shoulders hunched, your sobs echoing in the silence. Sukuna watched you go, his heart aching with every step you took away from him. He wanted to run after you, to beg you to stay, but he knew it would only make things worse.

Sukuna stood there, heartbroken and unable to move, watching her disappear from his life. The weight of his mistake crushed him, and he felt a hollow emptiness where his heart used to be. His hands trembled, still clutching the necklace you had returned to him.

His teammates stood behind him, unsure of what to do or say. The silence was heavy, filled with the echoes of their confrontation. Gojo stepped forward, reaching out to comfort his friend. "Sukuna, I—" he began, but Sukuna pushed him away, his eyes filled with anger and pain.

Gojo covered his face, expecting a blow, but it never came. He lowered his hands and saw Sukuna breathing heavily, his chest heaving with suppressed rage and sorrow. The look in Sukuna's eyes was one of devastation, and it broke Gojo's heart to see his friend like this.

"We have a game to win," Sukuna said, his voice low and strained, trying to focus on anything but the overwhelming grief.

Geto approached cautiously, concern etched on his face. "Are you sure you'll be able to play?" he asked gently.

Sukuna didn't answer, his eyes staring blankly at the spot where you had stood. He turned and walked back towards the court, his teammates following silently. Yuuji and Choso exchanged worried glances, noticing the change in Sukuna's demeanor. The light that usually shone in his eyes was gone, replaced by a dark, burning anger.

As they returned to the game, Sukuna's rage began to manifest in his play. He was aggressive, his movements sharp and almost reckless. His teammates could feel the intensity radiating from him, a stark contrast to his usual composed self.

The game began anew, the energy in the gym electric with anticipation. Sukuna's focus was razor-sharp, but it was driven by a storm of emotions. He clenched his jaw, his muscles tense as he took his position on the court. The whistle blew, and the game resumed.

Sukuna moved with a fierce determination, his eyes locked on the ball. He intercepted a pass, charging down the court with a speed and aggression that left the opposing team scrambling to catch up. He drove to the basket, leaping into the air and slamming the ball through the hoop with a force that shook the backboard. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Sukuna's face remained stoic, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

On defense, Sukuna was relentless. He blocked shots with a ferocity that left his opponents stunned, his movements almost violent in their intensity. He swatted the ball away, sending it flying across the court, and glared at the player he had just denied, his eyes burning with an unspoken challenge.

Yuuji and Choso watched from the sidelines, their concern growing with every passing minute. They had never seen Sukuna like this, and it scared them. He was playing to win, but the cost was evident in the raw intensity of his actions.

The game progressed, and Sukuna's relentless assault on the basket continued. He racked up points, each score a temporary distraction from the agony gnawing at his heart. The crowd cheered, but the noise barely registered in his mind.

His thoughts kept drifting back to you—the way you smiled when you were beneath him, the softness of your touch, the warmth of your embrace.

“I love you…”

And now, the way you walked away from him, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes cutting him deeper than any wound.

Sukuna's aggression on the court escalated, his anger spilling over. He pushed past defenders with more force than necessary, his movements almost violent. The opposing team tried to counter, but Sukuna was relentless, his need to drown out the pain driving him forward.

In the middle of the game, Sukuna found himself face-to-face with an opponent, their eyes locking in a silent challenge. The other player smirked, taunting Sukuna. "What's wrong, pretty boy? Got something on your mind?"

Sukuna's eyes darkened, and he drove forward, pushing the player aside with a force that sent him sprawling to the ground. The crowd gasped, and the referee blew the whistle, signaling a foul. Sukuna barely registered the call, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions.

As he stood at the free-throw line, the weight of the game pressing down on him, Sukuna's hands trembled. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the memories kept flooding back. He could see your face, the way you looked at him with love and trust, and then the way that trust shattered when you were told the truth.

He made the free throw, the ball sailing cleanly through the hoop, but the victory felt hollow. His teammates cheered, but Sukuna's heart remained heavy.

The game continued, each play a blur of movement and emotion. Sukuna's aggression showed no signs of abating. He played like a man possessed, his focus unwavering, but the cost was evident in the raw intensity of his actions. He collided with opponents, his body moving with a ferocity that left his teammates and coaches concerned.

The final minutes of the game were a whirlwind of action. Sukuna's team was in the lead, but the margin was slim. The opposing team mounted a fierce comeback, and the tension in the gym was palpable.

Sukuna took the ball, charging down the court with a determination that bordered on desperation. He dodged defenders, his movements almost reckless, and leaped into the air for a final shot. The ball sailed through the hoop, sealing the victory for his team.

The gym erupted in cheers, but Sukuna felt none of the triumph. He stood in the middle of the court, panting heavily, his mind still trapped in the moments that had just shattered his world.

His teammates surrounded him, their joy contrasting sharply with his hollow expression. Gojo approached cautiously, his earlier fear replaced with deep concern. "We won, man," he said softly, hoping to reach his friend. But Sukuna's eyes remained distant, his mind still trapped in the moments that had just shattered his world.

The celebration felt empty to Sukuna. He walked off the court, the cheers and applause fading into the background. The victory meant nothing to him now, not when he had lost the person who meant everything. You.

In the locker room, the atmosphere was somber despite the win. Sukuna sat on the bench, staring at the floor, the necklace still clutched in his hand. His teammates gave him space, understanding the depth of his pain.

Yuuji sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're here for you, Sukuna," he said quietly. "We'll get through this."

Sukuna nodded slightly, but his heart was heavy with regret and sorrow. The game was over, but the battle within him had only just begun. The memories of you haunted him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

See ya in a few days! <3

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

series masterlist | previous | next

the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title. 

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad. 

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room. 

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?” 

“my dad wants to talk.” 

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you. 

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head. 

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.” 

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you. 

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.” 

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?” 

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.” 

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.” 

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.” 

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked. 

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.” 

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?” 

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.” 

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet. 

“what happened?” 

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.” 

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone. 

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair. 

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses. 

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend. 

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.” 

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?” 

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.” 

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?” 

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.” 

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.” 

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.” 

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?” 

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!” 

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you. 

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!” 

“love you!” 

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.” 

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact. 

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!” 

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures. 

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.” 

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.” 

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.” 

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling. 

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces. 

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.” 

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.” 

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.” 

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.” 

“how’d you know?” 

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?” 

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.” 

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.” 

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.” 

luke frowned, “not because of that.” 

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.” 

“y/n.” 

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.” 

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.” 

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?” 

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand. 

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.” 

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.” 

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.” 

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt. 

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?” 

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

[leclucklerc]

Hard Carry CL16 - 02. Down Under

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Summary: Conflict arises as a hotshot rookie decided that the current world champion is the next opponent to beat.

Word Count: 5.3k

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Y/n l/n is a superstar inside and outside of Formula One.

It's the way she smiles and crinkled eyes. It's the way she handle interviews with pr trained answers and cheeky quips here and there. It's the way that she always dress to impress, catching everyone attention, be it on the grid or even in fashion week.

It's the way she made winning looks so easy. How she made making into the podium is just a regular Sunday for her. How she would gave the spectators a race that can be remembered by them for the rest of their life.

By the time she finished up her first season, people had called her a superstar in the making. Awed by the sheer talent and grit that she seemed to have for the sport. Finishing third in the standings of 2012 Formula One season, people have to admit that they’re entering a new era in Formula One.

When she finished her second season in Formula One, she’s a certified superstar, evident from the driver championship that she had won that year. When she finished her third season in 2014, she became a legend as she won the driver championship for two straight times. 

It’s almost as if everyone forgets all the slurs and bad things that they had called the female just a few years prior. As if, all of the negative press and criticism being directed towards her are nothing but an old news.

Maybe it’s because she finally proven herself that she can conquer the world of motorsport with her talent. Or maybe it’s just because people found more exciting things to talked and shit about. Who knows? Y/n certainly don’t.

Though, that doesn’t mean that the female forgets all the shitty things that happened to her when she first entered Formula One.

“She’s going to fuck half the grid,” said one commentator, ignoring the fact that the female is seventeen years old, and most drivers are in their mid to late twenties. “She’s going to ruin the sport.”

“A fucking barbie,” said another one. “That’s what she is.”

There are more. More things being said that’s downright horrifying and disgusting. She knows that no one cares about her age, that one of the ugly consequences of her entering a male dominated sport as a girl is the sexualization that she will eventually receive. But still, hearing all these things is gross beyond words.

Her sex life seems to be a favorite topic of them. Talks about she’s dating or fucking who, how she is seen talking with one driver and the next day a news station will say that she’s fucking him and ruining his family. Talks about her being a slut who parties too hard and a raging alcoholic for drinking alcohols during her downtime.

As if, her life is nothing, but a trainwreck of a circus show for them to watch and laughed upon.

It was during that horrible first season when y/n realized, that to be a champion you need to be an overall asshole.

A sick and twisted personality of hers that she always kept under her bright smiles and friendly front. It’s more to always have that competitiveness – on the track or off the track. To always have that fire and determination to always be the best. To actually believe and have the confidence to say that yes, I am the best driver in the grid. Yes, I make no mistake.

Be the best or be nothing. Show the world your worth or you will be worthless. The black and white view that you have to be so fucking successful or be nothing at all.

(It took y/n awhile to recognize that.)

The first time she realized it was when she won her first race in China. It was a close race, with her almost hitting a Mercedes and her own teammate. Back then – way too drowned in the euphoria of winning her first race – she doesn’t realize what that means to the people around her. Mainly, to other drivers on the grid.

There are a lot of drivers that came from a different time period. A period where Formula One has a rigid structure and strict unseen rules. For them, who had lives in that time period, y/n arrival and all the changes that she had brought, looks like a threat for them. A challenger who appeared to challenge their authority.

“If you drive that Porsche, anyone can win.”

“I don’t get it, she drives dangerously. She should’ve received a penalty for that.”

“I just don’t understand what the hell FIA is thinking! I know they’re all about diversity and inclusivity lately but-“

Y/n turned off the tv in front of her, face blank.

The phrase ‘never meet your heroes’ rang true inside of her head. Because hearing all of those things from her own childhood heroes is a bit tragic beyond doubt.

After all, these men are the people she had looked up to. They’re the reason why she wants to race in Formula One. They’re the reason why she have such a deep love for motorsport and why she’s trying her hardest to show all of them her capabilities.

Knowing the horrible and degrading things they called her should saddened her.

Though, instead, she doesn’t feel anything.

For a moment, she felt empty, as she sat there inside of her empty hotel room. She could hear chatters from the hallway outside, no doubt from the Porsche team who’s staying in the same floor as her. Besides that, everything felt a bit empty. And silent.

She just sat there, staring at the dark screen of the television in front of her. The euphoria of her earlier win had left without any trace.

Maybe it's because that she had gotten used to it. That these kind of talks is nothing new for her and slowly - but surely - had become a part of their daily life.

But no one deserves to live like this. No one deserves to be judged just because of their gender. No one deserves to have their skills and talent to be dismissed just because they don't have an extra weight between their legs.

Y/n, doesn't deserve this.

And in one second, that empty feeling was replaced by anger.

What right do they have to say things like that?

What right do they have to judge her life and talent like that?

Some never even won a race in their life! Or even get into the podium! Some even drive for shitty teams that have a brick of a car. A mid-tier driver that doesn’t have enough talent for the bigger teams. Now, just because they lost to a girl almost half their age, they think they have the right to talk shit to her?

So fucking funny. It almost made her laugh.

Barbie, slut, whore, the downfall for Formula One.

Barbie, slut, whore, the downfall for Formula One.

Honestly, it was frustrating that there are some older drivers that won’t accept their loss. It was more frustrating to hear all of their declarations that if they were also put inside y/n’s Porsche, they can drive better than her.

All that talks that questioned her ability just because of her age and gender. All of the talks that keep underestimating her over and over again.

Maybe that’s why she turned up like this, to have this kind of twisted and sick personality.

“Y/n,” started Herman as he introduced the young man besides him. She almost get a sense of déjà vu at the image. After all, this happened almost every year. Herman calling her to a meeting room just before the pre-season testing. Herman, introducing her to her newest teammate of the year.

Tall, blond, blue eyes. Probably some kid they picked off of F2 or other racing category randomly. She wonder how long this kid will last. How long, will it take for him to blow his gasket off.

“This is Henry Santos, your newest teammate,” said the older man as he gestured towards the male. He looked around y/n age and got starry eyed as he stared at y/n.

Typical, y/n almost scoffed out. It’s the same routine every year.

Almost immediately, she plastered a smile. It was so wide and so immediate. To the point it’s almost fake. “Hi,” she grinned. “Nice to meet you, I’m y/n l/n.”

Henry also nodded, excitement radiating off of him. “I know,” he said. “I’m a big fan.”

“That’s sweet,” she answered before turning her head towards Herman. “So, team briefing?”

Herman as well as other employee for Porsche immediately ushered them inside one of their meeting room in their motorhome. Talks about plans, the cars, and the upcoming season began as y/n listened to it attentively.

The same thing could be said to Henry as the kid could be seen writing a lot of things on his notebook, from his gaze, she could see how serious he is.

It’s the same look that she sees every year.

Kids being picked by Porsche for the position of their second seat. Kids, who was hoping to be able to stay in Porsche – one of Formula One top team, contenders for the championship – for more than one year.

Kids, who salivated at the thought of taking y/n’s seat.

She always blame her horrible experiences in the grid for this twisted personality of her. This kind of competitiveness, the urgency to always see as if they’re her rivals. The ability to unable see anyone as anything but competitors for her seat as uncertainty eats up her heart and whispered words that made her doubt everyone.

Sometimes, she felt a bit guilty, considering a lot of these kids, when they first entered Porsche, are good kids. Someone that just want to left their marks in Formula One.

But everyone wants to leave their marks in Formula One.

Everyone, wants to be the world champion.

Y/n included.

With three world titles under her name, it only made her hungrier for the title of the world champion. Some called her greedy, some called her over ambitious, but y/n thinks that’s just normal. When you taste the taste of winning once, there’s no going back. She's sure that Lewis and Sebastian shared the same feeling.

After that high of being the world champion, there is no way they want to lose it. The taste of winning is addicting after all. It's a dangerous drug to every driver. Once you taste it, you will always want more.

The same thing could be said for her teammates for the past few years.

If you’re in a Porsche, you will be part of the top team. You will fight for wins and podiums. It’s hard, to let it go, for your teammate. No matter how amazing they are.

She guess she has to be grateful that she’s the number one driver in the team.

The Formula One season started soon after that, kicking it off in Australia. Just like every year, Herman will force her to get along with her teammate, shoving them inside of the same private plane and made them do various media activities together.

Contrary to popular belief, she really doesn’t mind. Henry seems like a good kid. A bit nervous, a bit starry eyed. Nothing that she can’t handle. All of their media responsibilities ended for the day before it was time for them to do their driver briefing.

“You seem to get along with your new teammate,” called out a new voice, effectively catching her attention during her journey towards the briefing room. Henry had said that he needs to take some things back in their motorhome first, making y/n doing the journey alone.

“Maxie,” greeted y/n with a grin.

The so called ‘Maxie’ frowned.  “Don’t call me that,” he said. She could see an entourage of Red Bull employees all around him, no doubt protecting Christian’s very own prodigy from whatever danger he could have inside a guarded area.

Daniel couldn't be seen near him. It made her remember all the hushed talks about the Aussie contract renewal with Red Bull.

The woman laughed. “Aw, is little Maxie mad?” she said as she slung an arm around his shoulder – which is a feat itself considering he’s taller than her. “Don’t be that way to your best friend.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

“We so are!”

Years ago, back in 2015, when a kid called Max Verstappen joined Formula One, y/n felt that it was her duty to guide the lost little lamb. Or maybe it’s just her excuse to bully the new rookie.

You really can’t blame her for that. After all, she had been the youngest kid on the grid for years. She debuted when she was barely 17, she doesn’t even have a normal driving license. So that’s why when she first saw Helmut Marko newest golden boy, she thought that it was her time to be the reliable guy on the grid and helped Max to adjust to the Formula One lifestyle.

Which had not been going pretty well, considering Max is not the cutest kid on the planet – he broods, like a lot. Also Christian is basically in love with the kid. He’ll probably sell his own family for Max. 

She was not even surprised the slightest when it was announced that he and Kyvat will do a driver swap back in 2016. Controversial but interesting. She likes it.

“Ah, is that the Netflix crew?” said y/n as she waved towards the camera near them as they walked towards the briefing room. “Sorry babes, no camera during the briefings.”

“They know that,” muttered Max. “They just like following us around.”

“Ooo, spicy, stalker much, eh?”

A Red Bull employee actually chocked out a laugh at that and y/n count that as a win. The walk towards the briefing room is uneventful and was filled with small talks between her and Max. Some of the employees would chimed in, giving their own opinion or remarks but it’s pretty boring mostly.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the room.

Surprisingly, the first thing that she saw is a familiar pair of green eyes.

“Ah,” she said, stopping a bit in order to not bump into the male in front of her. “Charles,” greeted the woman good-naturedly. “You’re pretty early.”

Charles who came from the opposite direction, flushed a bit at that. He still got his pretty face which is nice. “I- uh, I don’t want to be late,” he replied. 

“A good mindset,” she said, giving him a thumbs up. “Anyway, have you met-“

“Charles,” greeted Max, with a nod of his head.

Charles too, gave him a nod. “Max.”

Both of them stared at each other silently at that, as if they're in the middle of sizing up each other before a battle. And maybe they are.

Y/n blinked. There seems an odd tension between the pair. “You guys know each other?” she asked, as the three of them enter the room. The female immediately sat at front.

Max, who decided to sit next to her, shrugged. “We met a lot during karting,” he answered, as if that explained the thick tension between the two of them.

“Yes,” replied Charles as he sat at her other side. “We often race against each other.”

“Ah,” she said. “Rivals huh? Neat.”

The door opened again at that, signalling the arrival of another set of drivers.

“Playing nice with the babies, y/n?” laughed Sebastian Vettel, clad in the familiar but still obnoxious red of Ferrari. She could see Kimi walking in alongside him, though just as usual, the man merely greeted her with a nod of his head before he take a seat behind them.

“For real,” she answered. “Gotta protect these kids hopes and dreams.”

“This is my fourth season,” argued Max back.

“Babies,” said y/n again.

Sebastian answered that with a laugh before he greeted Charles with small greeting and a pat on his back. It’s obvious that they had met beforehand. 

Slowly after that, more and more drivers appeared as low chatters began amongst themselves. Y/n was mainly occupied with both Charles and Max, though sometimes other drivers would greet her or chimed their opinion or two.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen,” started the man from FIA as he stood at the front of the room. “Let’s start the briefing. Is there any concern?”

And that officially starts the 2018 Formula One season.

The first time Charles ever saw y/n, was back in 2012.

It was the year where many things happened. He was entering almost the end of his karting days, looking for sponsors and teams who would want to support him for the higher categories. It was the year where he almost questioned his decision to be a racing driver. 

It was the year, where he realized that a future in Formula One is something that not everyone can reach.

To Charles back then, 2012 was one of the hardest year for his racing career. At the end of 2011, his father had confide to him that they’re running low on funds. That supporting his very expensive hobby will be harder and harder to do. It had stumped him, a realization about the harsh reality of the world.

Charles will be always grateful for Jules and all of his help after that. After all, without the man, he’s not sure if he will able to continue racing.

It was also the year where he found himself idolizing a new driver in Formula One. 

He first noticed her in a magazine. Charles doesn’t even know why did he picked that magazine all those years back. Maybe it was because she’s the only female in the stack of motorsport magazines. Maybe it was because she’s standing in front of a Formula One car, her face plastered on the cover with a headline that he will never forget.

"Youngest Race Winner in Formula One, y/n l/n," could be seen staring back at him. Behind that, in a font that is a bit smaller, the magazine too had added, 'The First Female Driver to ever won a Formula One Race.'

There’s something fierce and intimidating on her face as she stared back at her. It was as if she’s telling the world that she’s a winner. That she had arrived in the Formula One scene with one goal in mind.

To win.

Charles flipped open the magazine and began reading the article being dedicated to the female. About her passion, about her journey so far, and about her team. It is safe to say, that he was hooked ever since then.

As someone that wants to become a Formula One driver, it's only normal to follow the latest news regarding the sport. About the teams, or maybe the junior programs and opportunities that they had that can help his karting career. The arrival of Porsche back in 2012 was a really big moment for any fans of motorsport, so is y/n's arrival at the paddock.

For months, or even for the whole season, what people could talked about in the karting track is about the female. Oftentimes, she's an object of awe and reverent. As someone that started to break many boundaries that's being placed on the sport. Other times, she's an object of mockery and disapproval. Mostly due to her unconventional way to get her seat.

Honestly, back then, he also felt a bit apprehensive at that. After all, wouldn’t it be nice if he also came from a wealthy family that can just buy a whole Formula One team to support his dream? He wouldn’t have to work as hard as he is now, he wouldn’t have to desperately try to find sponsors or teams who would give him a bit of their time.

Maybe, if he came from a wealthy family, Arthur won’t have to give up karting.

That subject is still a sore spot for him. He knows that karting is an expensive sport, he knows that there is no way that his family can support two people karting at the same time. He knows, that he should be grateful that he’s the one being chosen for the investment.

But still, even after years, the guilt just won’t left him.

It’s the way he could see Arthur’s eyes dimmed a bit when he came for his races. It’s the way he would sometimes brought Charles’s old kart and use it in a track late at nights – thinking that no one will notice. His little brother is still as supportive as ever, cheering for him and wholly opened for discussions about his races, but Charles is not stupid. He can see how hurt Arthur was. 

And well, that served as more than enough motivation for him to race as hard as he can.

That reservation that he has for y/n l/n instantly disappeared as he watch the course of Formula One 2012 season. To him back then, it was really amazing for someone so young – only two years older than him – to be able to enter the pinnacle of racing and absolutely dominates the scene.

He watched the videos of her maiden win at the Chinese Grand Prix. He had obsessed over the overtakes that she did in Bahrain Grand Prix. That’s why, when the Monaco Grand Prix came around, he found himself watching it from the balcony of his friend apartment. 

The Grand Prix weekend had always brought a lot of fanfare. From the literal reconstruction of roads to the festive mood that people in Monaco seems to have, the Grand Prix weekend is something that Charles had always looked forward to.

“You seems more excited than usual,” said his friend, leaning forwards to his balcony railings. From their position here, he can almost heard the loud cheering from the grandstand or even the hustle and bustle that the Grand Prix seems to always brought to Monaco.

I’m going to race there one day, he thought, just like the years before. I’m going to be a Ferrari driver and I’m going to win the Monaco Grand Prix.

“Well,” started the Monegasque. “I have a new favourite driver.”

His friend raised his eyebrow. “Alonso?” he asked. “No, is it Felipe Massa?”

Charles shook his head. “Nah,” he denied. “L/n.”

At that, his friend stared at him. “Huh,” he finally let out. “It’s kind of weird not seeing you cheer for Ferrari.”

“I always cheer for Ferrari,” corrected Charles. “It’s just that I have another favourite driver on the grid.” 

“Mhm,” hummed his friend. “Not surprised though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Cause you’re active in karting and all,” said the male. 

Charles blinked. “What do you even mean by that?”

“Like she’s a female and she’s one of the top driver,” explained his friend. “I just think that it would be obvious for guys like you – those who actively pursue racing as their career – to have some kind of crush to her.”

Crush?

And- and that stumped him.

It almost made him remember all of the things being said towards y/n. All the weird comments about her being a female or her attractive appearance. How she is more marketable and can play with the male fantasy and that it gave her an advantage compared to her other male counterparts.

How sexualized she is by everyone in the media.

He doesn’t like that.

Why is people talking about her gender when she made that insane overtake last race? Why is people talking about her in such a sexualized way when she’s literally the youngest race winner that Formula One had ever had?

All of them saw her as if she’s an object. As if, she’s in Formula One just to fuck around the grid and leave. They didn’t see her as the driver who won the China Grand Prix. They didn’t see her as the driver who got P2 in her debut race. They didn’t see her as a driver that has any worth for their attention and respect.

It was a bit of a horrifying realization. 

He knows that the world of motorsport has its own values and ideals. How people think that it’s a sport only for men and a job as a racing driver is something exclusive to someone who has balls between their legs. 

“No,” he replied, hand tightening around the railing. “I don’t like her just because of that.”

Because the woman is more amazing than that. He knows that she’s attractive. Anyone who has a pair of working eyes can see that. But that’s not the only reason why he put her in a pedestal so high. 

He likes her because she’s only two years older than him and she’s already a race winner. He likes her because she won’t back down from all the shitty things that the media had said about her ever since her debut. He likes her because she fights for the championship against drivers with an infinite experience and skills. Charles likes her because she’s an amazing driver. Charles likes her, because she has the skills to back up her seat in Formula One.

Not because-

A black Porsche car zoomed past him.

Not because-

He watched her finishing the race at fourth in Monaco.

Charles likes her, because she’s someone that is changing the sport.

She’s someone more amazing than how the media is portraying her. A fighter, someone that’s fighting for her voice to be heard. 

His idol.

From that on, he followed her career attentively. His family called it obsession but he likes to call it admiration. From her maiden driver championship in 2013, to her third one in 2017, he had followed it all.

He watched her win three championships. He watched her break countless records. He watched her turned all of those criticisms into words of adorations and worships.

A legend. A superstar. The best driver on the grid.

It had served as an amazing motivation for him to pursue his career in Formula One. Especially during darker times in life where he had questioned his place in the sport so many times. After loss and loss, the female had always became some sort of motivation for him to continue his racing career.

So after winning F2 and being offered a seat in Sauber, he was excited.

That offer had been a testament of his skill, that someone finally acknowledge him. That offer had made the lie that he had told his dad before his passing a truth, that the guilt won’t eat him up once more. That offer had made the dream that he had held for so long a reality.

That offer had made him even closer to y/n.

When Fred had offered him to meet the female during the pre-season testing he had took up the offer in an instant.

The phrase ‘never meet your heroes’ is something that he would like to disagree because meeting y/n is like a dream come true. She’s Charming and witty. A hard worker and attentive to whatever nonsense he said during their meeting. Y/n is just so nice, just like how he imagine her to be.

Charles almost tripped himself when she asked for his number after that because holy shit- 

Somehow, after that meeting, he convinced himself that they stood at an equal ground. That after years and years of blood, sweat, and tears, Charles finally found himself on an equal ground with his idol.

He had never been so wrong.

He looked up, and he could see the female stood in front of the podium in front of him. Her smile bright, as she sprayed champagne towards Sebastian and Lewis who respectively stood at the second and third place.

It’s 2018 and it’s the Australian Grand Prix.

It’s 2018, and Charles saw the person that he had idolized for a long time won a race that Charles also participates in.

It was almost surreal to see her like this. To see the woman he had chatted with at the Porsche hospitality a few weeks ago to the woman who just won the first race of the season. The three of them – y/n, Sebastian, and Lewis – looks almost unreal to him.

The top drivers in the grid. The three world champions.

The best of the best.

His own 15th position on the grid stings a bit. Which is a bit unreasonable because he drives a Sauber. There is no way a Sauber could defeat cars from the top teams. Him, being a 15th position in a Sauber should be a pretty good achievement already.

But alas, it just doesn’t feel enough.

When they had chatted during the pre-session testing, it had gave him a fake illusion about them being an equal. After all, Charles is a Formula One driver now. He drives in the pinnacle of motorsport. He had shown the world that he’s capable to be a Formula One driver. Just like what he had dreamt of for years.

Today, is a harsh wake up call.

Y/n had looked so friendly and attainable that it gave him a false sense of hope that they stood on the same ground. Maybe it’s the euphoria of being promoted to F1 or maybe it’s the euphoria of managing to meet the woman that he had idolized for so many years.

Seeing this, her being at the top of the rankings while him, at the bottom, is a harsh reality check for him.

Because they’re not equal.

She’s still the faraway star that he can’t reach and he’s still the silent admirer that doesn’t have the courage to reach for her.

He’s still Charles Leclerc and she’s y/n l/n. Formula One superstar and legend. 

If he want her to look at him, to make sure that she remember his name, then he has to be better. He has to prove that he will worth her time.

Drive to Survive Season 1 Episode 3

It’s all about Porsche.

“It seems like a curse,” laughed Christian. “No one can hold off the second seat of Porsche for more than two years.”

A montage of past drivers could be seen. In some clips, a younger y/n could be seen standing or talking with the past drivers. It’s clear that these people are the previous holder of Porsche’s second seat.

“I think that it’s a known secret,” started Will as he stared at the camera. “While y/n portrays herself as a fun loving and charming woman, it’s clear that she is really strict and competitive towards her teammate.”

Y/n and Henry could be seen at that, the both of them entering a Porsche car. From how it looks, it seems that the both of them are going to the track together from their hotel. Henry could be seen wearing the standard Porsche polo shirt while y/n in wearing an oversized Porsche racing jacket and a sports bra underneath it.

“Are you driving?” asked the female, raising her eyebrows from behind her sunglasses.

“Sure,” said the male as they both entered the car, “I can drive.”

“Well if you can’t drive all of us are fucked,” answered the female as she sat on her seat. Y/n sitting at the front while two of their staff sat the back.

“Are you excited?” asked the staff as they made their way. “It’s your debut race.”

“I am,” laughed Henry. “There’s a lot of expectations that came with being a Porsche driver.”

During this conversation, y/n doesn’t seems interested in the conversation as she scrolled on her phone silently. The show made it more dramatic as they show a scene where there’s some kind of awkward silence inside the car.

After that, both y/n and Henry could be seen entering the grid. The female are laughing and taking pictures as well as giving autographs to her fans. From this image, we could see how much of a superstar the female is. Though, as they continue their way, the female could be seen greeting other employees and other drivers in a friendly way while Henry could be seen looking confused at the back.

A rookie and a superstar. A very different image.

“It’s not a bad trait to have,” clarified Will. “Because in order to be a world champion, you have to be competitive. In this sport, your first rival should always be your teammate. After all-“

Two Porsche could be seen racing against each other.

“-You have the exact same car-“

A team radio could be heard between Henry and the race engineer who’s ordering for the male to do a pitstop.

“-the same team strategy-“

A scene of two Porsche crashed into each other could be seen.

“And the same competitiveness to show that you’re the best driver on the team.”

The scene changed back into the interview room as Henry Santos appeared. His name could be seen besides him and his position as Porsche driver are written underneath it.

“My name is Henry Santos and I race for Porsche Royale Formula One team,” answered the male smoothly. A question was being asked offscreen as Henry could be seen listening and blinking before he let out a laugh. “Yes, there are a lot of pressure, considering this is my rookie year.”

On the screen, the standings from 2017 could be seen where Porsche won the constructor championship and y/n winning the driver championship. Henry voice too, could be seen as a voiceover, “Porsche is a winning team,” he said. “I want to be someone that can honour that ambition.”

“Do you think you can become the number one driver in Porsche?” asked the producer.

Henry’s smile froze as there’s a stretch of silence after that question.

It’s clear that Netflix wants some kind of drama from that question. The fight of Porsche’s number one driver position. A rookie versus the world champion.

“Yes,” he finally answered. “Yes I believe I can.”

It was almost like a declaration of war. After all, y/n is the reigning world champion. She’s the one that’s using the number one on her car this year. A consistent driver that always shows a remarkable performance each year.

For a rookie like Henry to say that, it’s a bold claim to have.

“A conflict,” said Christian as he appeared once again. “Will bound to happen in a team like that.”

Taglist!

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[rimunagenius]

And They Were Roomates

☙ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

☙ word count: 2.5k words

☙ warnings: RPF!! use of y/n, not proof read.

☙ ri speaks: I need more kate martin content and i haven’t been fed the specific ones that i need so i must write them to the best of my horrendous abilities. Idek how good this will be…im sorry in advance LMFAO. also this is two thousand five hundred words but it looks a lot shorter….crying

this is also a general announcement that i will indeed be refreshing my blog, so that means new and updated master lists and posts are coming out soon so sorry if you get a spam of rimunagenius on your feed!!

Part 1

| Series Masterlist |

When you first started in Iowa, you never expected the immediate love you recieved from the people there. They were friendly, generous, and so much different from people in California. Especially your roommate, Kate Martin. You had met her shortly after your first day of Junior year. A while after, you two became roomates because you needed more space, and she needed someone to split rent with in her apartment. Sounded like a great deal to both of you.

"You don't mind?" You asked unsure. Not wanting to impose on her, possibly ruining plans with making a deal with her actual teammates.

"No! Not at all! I really like you and you're alot of fun! I'd love for you to move in with me." She beamed at you, giving you a side hug when she saw your expression change. You both were ecstatic.

Since then, you had been living with Kate for almost two years. You two had become inseparable. Always on campus together, meeting up between classes to get coffee or lunch together, sometimes with Caitlin and your other friends. It was great. You were happy with your home away from home.

You had transfered from UC Irvine and decided to pursue your degree and career in sports medicine here in Iowa City. You were one of the new athletic trainees and ocassionly a photographer; your previous major was in photography and Lisa and the administration had really loved your resume and work, so they hired you as a part time (barely) photographer, for whenever they wanted more shots than what they usually wanted or a fill in.

Currently, you were needed in the Carver stadium to help record a mic’d up practice session for the team. It was for the Iowa Hawkeye Youtube channel. You had experience because you too had a youtube channel that you started when you first transferred to Iowa. So you had told Lisa and the coaches that you’d be able to film it.

“Hey, Gabbie!” You smiled at her as you walked into the locker room, approaching Kate’s cubby to set your stuff down. Kate telling you this morning before she left that you could put your stuff with hers.

“Hey, girlie! So guess what?” You and Gabbie loved to gossip. It was so much fun and it started when you were redoing the tape on her ankles, and she looked down so you asked her about it, and since then, you both have told eachother whatever gossip you had.

“Oh my god, what?” You took your sweater out of your bag, the locker room being chilly, so you could imagine the court.

“So that boy Nick in my econ class, totally asked about you today. I didn’t want to crush his hopes and dreams but I did say you weren’t his type.” She took a seat next to where you were standing to put her shoes on.

“Wait, the boy I said would so be my type if he was a girl? That Nick?” You laughed because he was really nice and such a sweet guy but he just wasn’t a girl. Men are pretty but only to look at.

“Yes!”

“How’d he take it?” This guy has asked you out once before but you just said you weren’t looking to date. Probably should’ve elaborated on that one.

“But he asked me “Oh, who is? Does he go here?” And I was like,” she paused to reenact the face she made. “I said it too fast so I didn’t have time to say “Oh, It’s long distance or something” sooo I don’t know.” She rambled and just pulled her hair into a small ponytail.

“What do you mean? That made no sense, Gab.” You were confused. She looked guilty of something but you didn’t want to pressure her but you also really wanted to know what she had said about you to Nick.

“I kinda sorta said you had a girlfriend already, and he took that as ‘Oh, she’s dating her roommate Kate Martin’ because he said he supposedly sees you guys together everywhere.” She meant well. It really wasn’t her fault that Nick totally misread the situation.

“Oh shit.” Your jaw dropped. You thought it was awkward but now it went full fledged horrendous. You were already out, and anyone who followed your insta would’ve saw it in your stories, so you weren’t worried about that but you were worried for Kate.

“So what do we do about the fact that a random kid on campus thinks your dating Kate?”

“Ok wait, i’m actually scared. Like how do you think Kate will take it?” You were talking to Gabbie and immediately knew you fucked up by seeing the expression on her face.

“How will I take what?” Kate walked in, hair down, dressed in her practice uniform, and sat on the chair next to you. You hadn’t realized that you sat down with Gabbie. Lost in the conversation and frenzy of the new mess that could possibly affect yours and Kate’s social life dramatically.

“I’m just gonna…” Gabbie got up, and walked out, meeting the others outside on the court.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a minute.” You said to the girl before turning to Kate. You had caught her up on the lore behind you and Nick, if you could even call this one sided infatuation lore. Now you just had to tell her the problem. “So Gabbie tried to tell him that I was already seeing some girl. But Nick jumped to this whole conclusion that me and you were together.”

You watched her face. Looking for any sort of negative reaction. Waiting for her to blow up on you. “Oh.”

“And when Gabbie tried to say it wasn’t you and that were just friends, and that my supposed girlfriend lives in California, he got up and left. So it may be possible that the whole Iowa college campus will assume we’re together.” You played with your fingers as you watched her some more. Still waiting for her explosion.

“I mean, I don’t mind. He sounded weird so if it keeps the guy away from you, i’m okay with being the ‘pretend’ girlfriend.” She shrugged her shoulders. Grabbing her shoes from behind you, your chair sitting right infront of the cubby that belonged to her:

“Kate. Are you sure? This is so random and so strange and I would totally get it if your uncomfortable.” You wanted it to be clear that this situation could go away if she was uncomfortable. If she was uncomfortable you’d go on a date with him and just tell him it won’t work after. It’d be bad for you if he goes around saying rude things but you couldn’t care less about people you don’t know. You just wanted to make sure Kate wasn’t the one feeling weird.

“Yeah, I mean—I don’t have to kiss you in public, right? I feel like that’s overstepping a boundary we have not thought about setting.”

“No, Kate. You do not have to kiss me in public. Wait so you’d kiss me in private?” You looked at the girl, now fully joking around as you wiggled your eyebrows and laughed.

“Oh yeah for sure.” Kate made a funny face while nodding her head before grabbing her water and standing up. You following behind to get this practice and video recording started.

“Oh, and your getting mic’d up today. I don’t know if Coach Lisa told you.” You say as you both walk onto the court.

You and Kate had showered, separately unfortunately, and sat on the couch. You had been trying to convince her the whole way home from practice to watch New Girl. She agreed after ten excruciating minutes of your nagging.

You were deciding to pick the snack you wanted, grabbing M&Ms you bought at the store yesterday, snickers, chips, and popcorn. You wanted to watch as many episodes as possible because you both started school late tomorrow and it was an off day for practice.

“What are these practices anyways? Are they like preseason workouts to get back in shape or?” You watched Kate as she picked her snacks.

“Yeah. Basically. We’re technically only allowed to goof off a little during those ones.” Kate laughed, referring to the mic’d up practice today. Coach Lisa usually wants a more focused and intimate space during the actual season. “Oh my. What if we just kill this whole tub of Neapolitan ice cream?” Kate took it out of the freezer and suddenly all your snack choices went back to the cabinets.

“Ou deal, Martin.” You grabbed two spoons before making your way to the couch. Grabbing the blanket off the backrest, and throwing it over you both. You both settled and got comfy ready to start the marathon of New Girl.

You were both sitting in silence after you decided to just do a highlight reel of episodes since you weren’t going to force Kate to watch multiple seasons. "Are you excited for this upcoming season? Your last season?" You asked as you looked to your right. Kate was seated next to you while you both decided to disregard bowls and just eat the ice cream straight from the tub. She held the tub as you both dug what you wanted out of it. She shoved more ice cream into her mouth and she smiled and nodded her head.

"I am. Just scared and sad." She said somewhat incoherently due to not having swallowed the mouthful of ice cream. You nodded your head. You had already adapted to the Kate language. When she talked while yawning, mouth full, her body language, and her facial expressions. Not many people were fluent like you, and you were actually proud to be one of the people. So you understood exactly what she meant. You saw everything else she was feeling just by the look in her eye and the shape of her lips.

But you also felt sad for her too. You’d both be a sixth-year, grad students, in a couple months. This year bigger for her more than you. This year being her last and final run in her collegiate career. This was huge. You both knew this but wanted to focus on the nicer aspects. You and the girls would support her and be her friend even if she decided to never touched a basketball again. You guys were for life.You didn’t play, so you felt there was nothing you thought you could say other than just being her friend.

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. A small comforting hug, atleast a hug at which this position provided, and kissed the top of her head. You only used terms of endearment like this in small, comforting, intimate moments. You felt this was the right time. "I'll be here for you, and you have the girls. We’ll back you in whatever you do, outside of basketball and school. You can’t ever get rid of us if you tried. But I will give you all the support and all the ice cream you can eat right now." You smiled at the blonde. You both stared at eachother, a little too long, “We are not beating the supposed ‘girlfriend’ allegations right now, Martin.” She bursted out laughing. You not far behind.

"But seriously, thanks shortie." She said as she patted your knee, right before she lost it again and laughed out loud. You immediatey cringed at the name, and pushed her away from you.

"OH! my god! Immediately no, Kate." You laughed again, half embarassment and half amusement. "That is not funny. You sound like a frat boy." That earned another snort laugh from Kate.

"You're right. I'm sorry." You side-eyed her. Pulling the blanket a little closer to you. Scooting over the tiniest bit over to feign anger and hurt. Still managing to catch her movement through your peripheral.

"Bro, I'm not even that much shorter than you. Just short three inches." You rolled your eyes at your best friend, turning back to the episode where Jess and Nick kiss eachother for the first time. Your favorite episode.

"Yes, I know. I know how you feel about my short jokes. I almost cried when you ignored me for three and a half days." Kate chuckled as she looked to you her smile dropping, a frown forming when you still didn't acknowledge her. "Oh, come on, y/n. Don't ignore me again, please! I was kidding." She asked you while chuckling nervously, she asked you two more times, when that didn’t work she insisted on poking you for a two minutes straight.

"Okay, Kate. I forgive you. Now shush, my favorite part is coming up." You kept your eyes on the screen and tried to reach for your spoon in the tub. Your fingers reaching everywhere but your spoon. "Kate can you help me please?"

"Yes, but haven't you already seen this show like eight-billion times?" She grabbed a spoon, whichever one was closest, forgetting which one was which, and scooping a good spoonful, before bringing the spoon to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth and took the ice cream happily.

"Thank you, you big teddy bear. God's gift, I'm telling you." You said as you watched the best scene on sitcom TV about to unfold.

"Im just going to pretend you're talking about me and not your show." Kate whispered. "You're welcome, pretty." She said louder so you could hear.

That got your attention. It wasn’t something that you hadn’t heard come out of her mouth and directed to you before; she's called you pretty multiple times when you had asked if the outfit you were wearing out looked good or if the makeup you put on was good for this dinner a girl you were seeing on and off wanted to take you out to. But she's never once used it in this context. You got a nervous feeling in your stomach, something you recognized as butterflies for sure. Fighting the urge to smile at the compliment, a small blush creeping up on your cheeks. Fighting the thoughts you had about her.

It was something new but this one thing…this you weren't going to get used to. You guys were best friends and just roomates. You can't feel anyway about this.You decided to ignore it and take it as a compliment in the moment to make up for the short joke. It definitely wasn’t something serious as you were making.

"I was talking about both of you. The TV and you, Kit-Kate." You put your arm around her shoulder and continued to watch the show. Watching the scene you had been waiting for all night to play. “This was the best cinematic experience I have ever had.” You whispered, now reaching for the spoon again for some ice cream.

Kate beating you to it, already having got another spoonful for you, feeding it to you like she did a couple of seconds ago. You smiled and thanked her before you both decided to cut the show, and search for a movie of both your choosing this time.