LN4 | Our Forever Moment
an: i still don't really know how much i like to make written fics, but i have ideas for them so i'm going to continue to try and write them, i think. my first language is NOT english, so sorry if there's any mistakes <3
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader, vasseur!reader (this is gonna be fun, lowkey not important, gets mentioned like a few times because i forgot)
warnings: swearing (like twice)
inspired by: mine - taylor swift
word count: 6.2k
As she’s being dragged to another race, she wonders when her dad is going to realize she's always running off and never in the garage of his own team, she doesn’t know that he’s fully aware she’s never there. She’s been welcomed by everyone she’s visited though, which does make him happy. She mostly goes to Mercedes and Red Bull, but lately Mclaren has been looking quite interesting.
“Are you going to stay in the Ferrari garage today? Or am I gonna have to send someone over to Red Bull or Mercedes to find you?" Fred looks at yn with a playful smile.
“I didn’t think you noticed.” She's quite shocked. He always seemed to switch off being a dad whenever they stepped into the garage, so it never even occurred to her that he even wanted her there.
“Who do you think sends someone after you at the end of the day?” He turns back around as they get closer, “I think you, Charles and Carlos would be great friends if you gave them a chance,” they turn and walk into the Ferrari hospitality. “Oh speaking of boys, have you found a boyfriend I need to approve of?” He quickly looks back to see her surprised face before he turns back to see where he’s going, even though he could probably navigate it blindfolded.
“Well first of all, you wouldn’t need to approve of him, this isn’t the middle age,” yn lets out a small laugh, “and second, all of my relationships have failed, you’re partly to blame for pulling me to almost every race, and then I guess I’m just not girlfriend material.” She follows her dad around, because even if she does get pulled to all races, she usually doesn't hang out here for more than 5 minutes before she’s off to find Max or George.
“Chérie, anyone not willing to spend the short time you're home isn’t worth your time,” he stops in his track turns around and puts a hand on her shoulder, “and I’m not sure if I ever said it, but if you truly would prefer to stay home and only travel to a few, that is fine. I would understand.”
She gives him a reassuring smile, “I know. You wouldn’t have been able to drag me out of the house if I didn't truly want to be here.”
He gives one quick smile before continuing walking, and before she knows it, she’s left to herself because he’s needed for something important.
~~~
It doesn’t take long for Charles to spot yn, sitting by herself, because apparently everyone else is busy today. “Yn? what are you doing here? I thought you’d be off doing something with Max?” Charles looks around to see if Max is around and he just hadn't seen him, but it’s a lost cause, which he should have realized, Max wouldn’t be seen anywhere near anything related to Ferrari. Except for Charles of course.
“No he’s busy. Everyone suddenly got busy.” She looks back down at her phone and the messages between her and her friend, however it would be rude to text back while Charles is in front of her, so she turns it off and stuffs it in her pocket. “I don't really remember the last time everyone, well except for you I guess, was busy at the same time.”
“Well, I’m meeting Lando and Oscar for lunch, do you want to join us?” Charles asks with a smile, flashing some cute dimples. Not that anything could ever happen between the two. As attractive as Charles may be, her dad was his boss, and nothing good was going to come out of that.
“I think I’d like that,” she smiles back as she picks up her bag with her essentials, “it’s nothing fancy right? I didn’t really get dressed for something over the top.” She looks down at the ripped jeans and the oversized t-shirt that she’s wearing. Not exactly the cutest outfit.
~~~
“So you still live with your dad?” Oscar asks curiously, they all seemed fairly happy she was invited by Charles. And Oscar, who she hadn’t really spent any time with, has been asking a lot of questions.
“I do. I may be 21, but living at home is just a little easier. And I like spending time with my dad, even if I run off to other teams at the first chance I get.” She answers as she takes another bite of her food. Lando has been awfully quiet and it didn’t go over yn’s head. She was fully aware of how glued his eyes were to his food.
“Is it weird? That your dad is responsible for a Formula 1 team?” Oscar almost forgets to eat, because of all the questions he’s asking.
“It was in the beginning, but I've gotten used to it by now,” she takes a sip of water. “Is he always this quiet?” yn looks at the way Lando is poking his food “and is he always just poking his food?” She questions, making Lando's eyes move up for just a split second and then back down to his food.
“No. He’s usually pretty chatty, maybe he’s just nervous for tomorrow," Oscar says, finally eating some of his food. “He doesn’t usually get like this before a race though,” Oscar leans his head a little to the side as if thinking about it, before poking a finger in Lando’s side making him jump a little. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Oscar asks.
“Maybe he’s got a new crush,” Charles jokes, taking a bite of food just as Lando suddenly coughs and gulps down water.
“Are you okay?” Yn asks as Lando suddenly gets up from his chair avoiding any and all eye contact.
“No, I’m actually not feeling so great. I think I’ll have to cut this short if I want to be good to go by tomorrow.” He quickly gathers his things as everyone looks confused. “Bye!” And then he’s out of there.
“Well that was weird.” Oscar says as he goes back to eating
“Do you think it was me?” Yn looks at the rest of the men sitting around the table, a little sad that she may have ruined their lunch.
Charles smiles. “Yes,” he says, looking at yn, “but in a good way. I think I might be right, even if it was just a joke.” He lets out a laugh. “I’m sure there’s some truth to it.” He goes back to eating, and so does yn, deciding that maybe she’ll talk to Lando in private.
~~~
On his way back to the hotel, Lando struggles to figure out his emotions. Of course yn is absolutely gorgeous. But considering she’s Fred's daughter he wouldn’t dare to think of her as anything but a friend. He may not race for Ferrari, but he still has a lot of respect for the man. And Lando knows about his reputation of not being able to keep his relationships going for long. Hopefully he can just subtly ignore her. Because the feelings, and thoughts he had during that lunch were not friendly. And before he even considers anything, he needs to make sure his feelings for her are romantic, and not just him finding her pretty.
~~~
Lando spent close to 4 months avoiding yn to the best of his abilities, and when he wasn’t ready and she caught him off guard he made up some weird excuse about needing to look at data, test the car, try some new Mclaren merch for photoshoots. Yn usually knew they were lies, and wondered why Lando was so set on avoiding her. To be quite honest, it brought down her mood, and she spent more and more time in the Ferrari garage and hospitality. Her dad sensed something was wrong. She was rarely there and suddenly she never left? Something was going on and he was going to get the bottom of it.
“I see you’re spending time here today,” Fred sat across from yn. She was eating lunch. Alone. That was how she spent most of her time lately. All alone. Lando had unknowingly made her really anti-social.
“I guess.” She poked a little at the salad she had bought. She didn’t really want it anymore.
“Did the others have plans?” Fred asks, looking around.
“I’m not sure.”
“Is something bothering you?” Fred asked, concerned for her daughter who used to have a lot to talk about. A lot of people to talk to, and who never spent time at lunch alone in Ferrari.
“Nope.” Fred sighed. He wasn’t going to get any answers. If it was because she genuinely just didn’t feel like talking today or if there was something wrong, he wasn’t sure. But he was gonna ask Max, or maybe Lewis to talk to her. He didn’t want her to be lonely. He got up from his chair. He had to get this started immediately.
Fred’s quest to find Lewis was surprisingly easy. He found the soon-to-be Ferrari driver hanging out with Charles and Carlos near their own garage. “Lewis! Can we talk?” Fred called out before he reached them. Lewis just nodded and started walking towards Fred.
“Is it about my contract?” Lewis asked cautiously. He knew he hadn’t been performing that great in the Mercedes this year and was afraid Fred was going to only make it a year so he could be finished with him.
“No. I need you to talk to yn. She's suddenly spending a lot of time with Ferrari, but alone. Which, as you may know, isn’t where, or how, she usually spends her time.'' Fred looks really concerned, and it’s like it’s transferred to Lewis immediately. He’s known yn ever since her dad started dragging her along. She would usually spend time with George when she went to Mercedes, but sometimes when George wasn’t there and she just wanted to be somewhere else, Lewis and yn would play some games. Usually chess. Lewis was definitely better than yn but she still loved it. They could often lose track of time and suddenly one from the Mercedes team would come and get Lewis to either do some media related stuff or because it was time to get ready for a race.
“Of course! Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her around Mercedes for quite some time now. I’ll see what I can do, if I can't figure it out, I'll have Max ask her. They’ve always had quite a special bond I don't understand” Lewis gives the man a reassuring smile and a clap on the shoulder “Don’t worry, we’ll get her back to her talkative self very soon.”
“Thanks Lewis,” Fred looks relieved, but only for a second when his eyes widen. “Do you think Max did something to her? To make her feel this way?” He looks around as if he's scanning the surroundings for Max. And good thing he isn’t around. It wouldn’t have been a good outcome.
“I doubt it. He’s always been nice. Especially to her,” when he realizes how that may sound to the man in front of him and the way his eyes narrow, he quickly adds “as a friend. Not romantically. I’m pretty sure he’s actually in a relationship.” Fred seems to almost relax at those words and gives Lewis a quick pat on the shoulder
“Hurry up and get my daughter back. I miss her.” and with that he walks off. Hopefully not to find Max. And if so, Lewis sure is glad he isn’t Max right now.
~~~
When Lewis finally finds yn sitting just on the outside of the track he’s surprised she was allowed. But then again she probably just mentioned being Fred's daughter and she was allowed. “Hey there. Looking cozy. Mind if I join you?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just sits down next to her on the grass.
“What do you want?” She asks. Not really feeling the company right now.
“You haven’t been spending much time with George lately. Have you been spending more time with Max?”
“No.” Straight to the point. But not really the point Lewis was looking for.
“Have you been spending time with Charles and Carlos? Since you’re spending so much time with Ferrari at the moment?”
“Would that be a crime?” She looks at Lewis, and he sees something different. Her eyes don't look as alive as they usually do. They’re missing the glow that makes yn herself.
“Yn, is something wrong? You know you can talk to me. Or Max,” he waits for a second, not sure if he should continue, but as she starts plucking at the grass without answering he decides she needs to know. “Your dad is worried about you.”
“Oh.” She answers, plucking a few more grass straws
“Did something happen?” Lewis asks, trying a different approach.
“I don't know. Maybe you should ask Lando.” Lewis is unsure what Lando has to do with this entire situation, but he promised Fred to get to the bottom of it, so he will.
“Did he do anything?” Lewis is ready to fight Lando. “If so, I’ll gladly talk to him”
“Well, maybe he’ll talk to you,” yn shrugs and gets up from the grass. “I have no idea what I did to him. He seemed happy enough about me being invited to join him, Oscar, and Charles for lunch a couple months ago, and then during lunch he was so quiet, barely looking up from his food and then he suddenly said he wasn’t feeling great and needed to leave.” Yn turns around and looks at Lewis, tears starting to form in her eyes. “He has ignored me ever since. Every time I’ve tried to talk to him he either runs away or makes up some dumb excuse to get away from me,” she wraps her arms around herself as if to protect herself. “I’m sorry,” she says, shakes her head and turns around again and starts walking away. “I shouldn't have put all of this on you. I'm probably just overthinking it anyway.”
"Wait!" Lewis is quick to get up from the grass and gets a hold of yn’s arm, ”I’m glad you told me. Let me talk to Lando. See if I can figure out why he’s avoiding you. Maybe there’s a reason,” yn smiles a small smile, but it’s better than the empty expressions she's had lately. “Nice to see you’re still capable of smiling.” Lewis returns it with a smile of his own and guides her towards the Mclaren hospitality. “Now let’s get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you. Not just for this, but also for always putting up with my bullshit.” Yn looks straight ahead. She wasn’t exactly planning on saying any of that, but oh well. It won’t hurt anyone.
Lewis just laughs and pushes her lightly. “You should be grateful. It's impossible to keep putting up with it.” If he wasn’t laughing while saying it, she would have been hurt, but she just laughs with him and follows him, to hopefully get some answers from Lando.
~~~
Lando was not expecting to see Lewis, so he wasn’t able to run off as quickly as he usually does, and when he spots yn behind Lewis, he tries to make up some excuse about having to talk to an engineer about a possible car problem but Lewis stops him. “Lando. That’s enough.” He puts a hand on Lando's shoulder before he gets a chance to run off. “Why do you keep running away from yn?”
Lando sighs, he can’t run away from it anymore. “I kinda would prefer for this conversation to happen between just me and yn.” He runs a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck.
Lewis looks back at yn, then at Lando, then back at yn, “are you fine with that?” He asks, while she nods and follows Lando into his drivers room
“So.” Lando starts, not really sure how to get the conversation going.
“Why have you been ignoring me for the past 4 months?” Yn asks, wanting to get this solved as soon as possible. “Did I say something that upset you so much during lunch that day?” Yn can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but she would like to get through this conversation without crying.
“No! Oh my god. Not at all!” He turns around because he’s not sure he can look at her while telling her this. “I think I might, sort of, have feelings for you.” The room is filled with silence. Lando is almost afraid she ran out of the room, If it wasn't for the fact he could hear her breathing.
“So you decided the best action was to avoid me?” Yn asks, with a playful grin. If she had known this was all it was she would have had someone talk to him earlier.
Her playful tone makes Lando turn around with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you or run off every time you tried talking to me. I was just afraid I would end up spilling a full love confession, and I’m not sure your dad would be too happy with that.”
“Well he doesn’t get a say in my love life.” Yn closes the distance between her and Lando.
“I suppose you’re right.” Lando takes a step forward, making the distance between them smaller.
“So are you going to be doing anything about it?” Yn tilts her head slightly.
“When I have planned it,” Lando smiles and takes a step back as he feels a vibration in his pocket. “Damn, I actually do have to go now,” a text from his engineer asking him to come back for a meeting. Lando grins and walks towards the door, “but you're totally free to stay here until I’m back. And trust me, I’ll be spending the entire meeting planning the perfect way to ask you out.” He flashes a quick smile before he's out of the door and yn is left alone in the room. But this time being all alone is different. She doesn't feel all alone. She’s the happiest she’s been in four months.
~~~
“I have the perfect plan.” Lando and Oscar are doing a track walk just to have something to do and make sure the track is fresh in their memory for the practice the next day.
“Yeah?” Oscar isn’t really sure it’s going to be as perfect as Lando thinks it is. “Are you totally sure about that?” He questions, raising an eyebrow, while taking in the surroundings of Monaco.
“I’m 100% sure.” Lando nods. He knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s in fact not going to ask directly. He’s made a fun little game, and got a few drivers in on it. “Just promise me to not ruin it when she comes to you.” Oscar sighs. He obviously isn’t going to spoil it.
“How are you going to ask her? If you aren’t doing it directly.”
“That’s a surprise.” And no matter how much Oscar pushes, Lando doesn't tell. Just smiles and shakes his head.
The next day when yn arrives at the paddock Alex greets her as soon as she’s arrived. “For you.” He says and hands her a letter.
“For me?” Her face is full of confusion as she opens the letter.
“Dear yn, I’ve made a little scavenger hunt for you. I hope you’re going to have fun. At the end you’ll find a surprise. Here’s the first clue.”
That’s the end of the letter. “So what's the clue?” If anything she's even more confused now, it doesn’t even say who it's from. It could be from George. But she doubts it. He’s never done anything like this before.
“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Alex rushes and pulls a small lego car from his backpack. more specifically a Mclaren lego car.
“So I'm guessing I have to go to Mclaren?” She questions and looks at Alex who just shrugs. So that’s where she heads to next. Who knows how long this is going to last. She does think it’s going to be fun though. She’s always loved clues.
As she gets closer to the Mclaren garage she finds Oscar standing looking around holding a letter in his hand. As he notices her, he walks towards her. “Here. From a mystery man.” He says, hands her the letter and walks off trying to look mysterious.
Yn laughs and opens the letter. This time, there’s no text. Just a card. “Happy fathers day.” She reads out loud. That’s all the card says. “I guess that means i’ll have to go to my dad?” She wonders out loud. Would this person involve her dad? Would her dad want to be involved? “Hm, probably just ferrari.” She says as she notices the card is mostly red.
She walks over to the Ferrari garage but can't find anything and decides it might be at the hospitality. As she enters the building she notices Carlos standing with a smile on his face and a whistle in his hands. “Here you go.” He hands her the whistle as she reaches him.
“That's it? Not a letter? Anything to guide me more than-'' she looks down at the whistle now in her hand, “a whistle?” She looks back up at Carlos who looks around.
“Consider the first letter of the whistle.” He whispers and quickly walks off, whistling.
“The first letter of whistle is w. So..” she thinks for a second. “Williams?” She laughs and quickly walks over to the Williams hospitality, but to her surprise finds no one, and decides it must be their garage then.
Here she finds Logan happily holding a small boat toy. “For you.” He says and hands it to her. Happy to be included. She smiles and wonders if this is the last one.
“Thank you, Logan.” She sends him a smile and walks to the dock to find a boat. Not really sure which type of boat, big or small. But she’s determined to find it.
When she gets to the dock, she fears it’s going to take a long time, until she spots Charles casually sitting on a yacht. As she approaches she notices a full basket of red bulls sitting beside him. “I guess I’m going back to the track. To Red Bull. Their garage?” She is sure to get those 10k steps she’s supposed to get every day.
“Yeah, if you want something to drink on your walk, I have plenty,” he pushes the basked towards yn and gestures for her to bring it, “in fact, let me join you on the way back, I was only sent here to give you the clue, and I don't drink Red Bull, so I can return it.” He smiles and gets up, taking the basket full of cans. “Are you having fun so far?” Charles starts walking back towards the track with yn following.
“Yeah. It’s a lot of fun,” she answers as she opens a can of the regular Red Bull, "I'm excited to see who set all of this up though” she looks ahead and takes a sip of the can.
“I can’t wait for you to see who arranged it,” he says. And that’s all he says. Yn tries to get more clues about who it is, but Charles’ mouth is shut. He’s not letting anything slip. And they arrive at Red Bull way earlier than yn was expecting so she doesn't get nearly enough time to interrogate Charles about who it is.
“I see you’ve come to terms with the fact Red Bull is the best.” Max teases as Charles and yn are within hearing range of a normal voice. While holding a bouquet of flowers?
“Ha ha ha,” Charles smiles, as he hands Max the basket full of red bull cans, “I’m just keeping yn company, and decided to return these as I won’t be able to drink them.” Charles laughs and gets into a conversation with Max until yn clears her throat, reminding them she’s still there.
“I’m looking for a clue,” she says, begging that it's close to being over because she’s tired of walking from one side of the track to another over and over.
“Oh right,” Max hands her the bouquet of flowers he was holding. She takes them in her hand and her eyebrows furrow.
“What kind of clue is this?” She looks at Max whose eyes go wide.
“I forgot this.” He pulls a letter out from his pocket and hands it to her.
“Another letter. Is this the last one? I don't know how much more walking I can do.” She looks so defeated but reads the note.
“If you received this letter, that means you figured out all the clues. I know you were just there, but you can find me on Charles’ yacht. Where the big surprise is waiting.”
She looks up as she finishes reading. “He’s got to be kidding. I swear to fucking god, if this is George and he just made me walk from that yacht, back to the track and then back to that stupid yacht i’m going to go insane.” You look back at the letter.
“My yacht isn’t stupid.” Charles pouts as Max hits him on the arm. “Ow?”
Yn sighs, “I guess I’ll get going. Thanks for the flowers I suppose.”
“Oh they were not from me. They were from him. Just hurry up,” Max looks down at his phone, “practice starts kinda soon, and he can’t be late.” Yn starts walking back towards the yacht. She can't wait to kill the man that made her walk this much.
Lando however has been setting everything up ever since yn and Charles left. Strawberries covered in chocolate, and since he doesn't like chocolate, strawberries without chocolate, candles on a small table on the sun deck. As yn gets closer, Lando walks down to greet her. “I swear to fucking god George if this is yo-” her sentence gets cut short as soon as she sees Lando. “You set all of this up?”
“Yeah. You didn’t seem to like it that much?” Lando rubs the back of his neck. He wasn’t the best planner of a scavenger hunt.
“I kinda wasn’t the biggest fan of walking all the way out here, back to the track and then back here again.” She crosses her arms, but seeing the concerned look on Lando’s face she relaxes her arms and walks onto the yacht with a huge smile. “It was still kinda fun.”
They spend a little while on the boat, sitting with their feet almost touching the ocean. Lando is not really sure if he should put an arm around her or not. He decides not to move too quickly and they just sit next to each other. “Oh I almost forgot,” she turns and looks at Lando. “I was supposed to tell you to hurry up, practice starts soon and you can’t be late,” she looks down at the strawberries, “but you distracted me.”
“Oh shit!” He gets up quickly and puts his shoes on, “meet me at the track! I would love to spend some time with you between practice 1 and 2!” He hurries up and practically runs all the way to the track.
~~~
For the next couple of weeks Lando spends a lot of time wondering how quickly to move forward. They spend a lot of time sitting near water, almost like the first time, except they don't have access to Charles' yacht every day. Every time Lando wonders if he should put an arm around her, but he never does. Until one day, when they’ve been sitting at the end of the gangway on the dock, their feet so close to the water, if they stretched them out their toes would be dipped in the water, and Lando’s arm comes closer and closer to making its way around yn. “Just do it already,” she says and leans on him, putting her head on his shoulder, “I've been waiting for the last many weeks for you to do it.” Lando can’t help but let out a small laugh and put his arm around her.
“I wasn’t sure if you even wanted it.” He looks down at her quickly before looking back at the water.
“I've been waiting for you to make some sort of move, so I knew if it would be appropriate to do this.” She says, as she sits back up straight and puts her hands on Lando’s cheeks and pulls his face closer. He puts his hands on her waist and pulls her closer while making sure none of them fall into the water. Her lips meet his softly, a tentative brush that sends a wave of electricity through her body. The kiss deepened, growing in confidence, and everything else faded away. All that existed was the two of them.
When they finally break apart, Lando puts his forehead against hers, a smile stuck on his face. He would never be able to forget this moment, and she wouldn’t either. “I’ve dreamed of this moment ever since that time Charles invited you to lunch.” Lando shares, not aware that yn has shared the same feeling since he shared that he had feelings for her.
“I was sure you’d do something about it sooner.” Yn lets out a small laugh and leans against Lando’s shoulder as he puts his arm around her.
“I was too afraid you didn't want to,” he says and lets out a sigh. “And I guess I just never thought to just ask.”
“Well, you should have.” She smiles, before looking up at him, and he can’t help but smile back. They sit like that for a while. Just enjoying each other's company.
~~~
A couple weeks later, when they’re lying on the couch in Lando’s apartment, watching a movie, yn can’t help but smile, thinking about this moment, and how she never thought this would be a reality in her life. “Can you believe it?” She says in a soft whisper, her voice barely even audible.
“Believe what?” Lando asks, while his other hand mindlessly runs through the soft strands of her hair.
“This. Us. I never thought I’d be in such a happy relationship while traveling so much.” She says, softly tracing small circles on the back of his hand, that’s draped across her waist.
“Well I’m glad you're happy,” He says, placing a kiss on the top of her head, earning a soft hum from the woman. “You know, you could bring some stuff here. Just enough for a drawer if you don’t want to get too serious.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck.
She can’t help but smile, because she had been thinking of asking. “That would be nice, especially considering how much time I spend here.” She brings his hand up to her lips and places a soft kiss there, before going back to the movie.
~~~
It didn't take long for her to basically move in. It wasn’t official, but it might as well have been. She spent more time there than she did at her own home. But Lando didn’t mind. In fact, he loved having her there. They even started spending time together publicly, whether that was around Monaco when it wasn’t a race week, or if it was in the paddock. The fans had noticed how close they had gotten, and speculation quickly began. Were they a couple? Just friends? No one knew. Did Fred? No. But he wasn’t stupid, he knew something was going on, but he didn’t want to ask. But he didn’t mind, as long as yn was happy. And she was, for the first couple of months. And then it seemed like Lando had other priorities. Of course she knew racing was important to him, and she didn’t expect to suddenly be on the absolute top of his priority list, that would always be F1 and she knew that. However, that didn’t stop the feeling of neglect starting to spread through her. She knew he had a packed schedule, but she would often find herself wishing he had more time for her, yet it just seemed he got less and less time for her.
As the relationship between them progresses, small arguments make it to the surface. Usually sparked by the fact yn feels unimportant, or that Lando misses a date or an anniversary. It’s never his intention, and he always makes it clear that he loves her, but as it continues to get worse and worse, she begins to question it. She even stops believing him 100%.
It was 2 am. Lando had just returned back to the hotel after the race in Singapore. He silently opened the door to the room he was sharing with yn, expecting her to already be sound asleep on the bed, but to his surprise she was sitting up, leaning against the headboard with the bedside lamp on.
“Can we talk?” She asks, her voice soft but filled with a hint of vulnerability.
“Of course.” Lando quickly closes the door and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Look, I know racing is extremely important to you, that it’s everything to you, but,” she pauses for a moment, not really sure how he’s going to take this. “What about us?” She asks, her voice shaking slightly.
“I know it’s been tough, and I’ve not been the best, but I’m under a lot of pressure right now,” Lando looks up at her and he can see the way his words hurt, and he can’t help the defensive tone that creeps into his voice. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Didn’t have a choice? You’ve always had a choice! You chose to sign up for all those PR events. All the additional promotional videos. Do you know how it feels to always be the last thing on your mind?” Her voice raises a little as the frustration takes over, and she searches Lando’s eyes for a reaction, just some sort of reaction.
“I never wanted you to feel that way,” Lando sighs and looks her in the eye, he genuinely never wanted her to feel like she was his last priority. “But this is my career, it’s what I’ve worked towards my entire life.”
“And where do I fit into that? When you talk about your future, you’re talking about your next race, the next podium, the next win. I can’t continue to just sit back and wait for you to finally have time for me. I can’t continue to just be a spectator in your life, Lando.” The hurt is visible on her face, and she turns away momentarily to look out the window. The rain is subtly falling outside, and small drops of water roll down the window.
“I thought you understood when we got together.” He says, trying to defend himself. “This is my life, my dream. I never wanted you to feel like you're not important.” His voice softens, but his tone is still defensive as he tries to avoid addressing the core issue.
“I did understand. And I’ve been nothing but supportive, but it’s been months of you forgetting a date, or something else. And I’m not asking you to quit racing, I would never do that. All I’m asking is that I become a priority too. Because right now it feels like you’ve made a choice. And it’s not me.” Tears start to swell up in yn's eyes, and Lando is at a loss for words. He never wanted it to get to this point, but he doesn’t know what to say. He looks away, and that’s the last straw for yn. She swings her legs off the bed and grabs her suitcase that she packed as soon as she returned from the race, since they were planning to leave early in the morning anyway. “I’ll give you some time to think about all of this. But I won’t be waiting forever. Figure out if this is something you want. Because I can’t keep doing this.” And with those words she leaves the hotel room, and into the elevator.
She walks out into the rain, with tears flowing freely from her eyes. She stops and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want it to end between her and Lando, but she also can’t continue to just be a bystander in her own relationship. As she grabs her suitcase and is about to begin walking she hears Landos voice. “Wait!”
She turns around and sees him walking in long strides toward her, the rain already drenching his hair. “I don't want to lose you. I’ll never leave you alone again,” he says as he reaches her. “I remember how it felt when we were sitting by the water on our first unofficial date. Every time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time all over again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He places a hand on her cheek and gently rubs his thumb along her cheekbones. “Please don’t leave. We’ll make it work. I’ll make time for you. You’ll be my first priority, I promise.”
She looks up at him with an aching heart at the raw emotion in his voice. For a moment she wants to believe him, to just forget all the missed moments, but the pain is still too much.
“You say that now, but what happens when life gets busy again?” She asks in a whisper, her voice shaking as she speaks. “What happens when I become the last thing on your mind again because something else takes priority?”
Lando’s hand trembles slightly against her cheek, but he doesnt pull away, and neither does she. The rain falls a little harder, and their breaths are visible in the cool air of the night.
“I won't let that happen.” His voice is filled with an urgency, a need, that she’s never heard before. “I know i’ve failed you, but this time-”
“”This time,” she interrupts him and takes a step back, resulting in his hand slipping from her cheek. “How do I know this time is any different?” She looks at him with tearfilled eyes, waiting for an answer she might not want. But it doesn’t come. Instead, Lando takes a step closer and his eyes are filled with so much love and hope.
“Because this time, I know what it’s like to lose you,” his voice is trembling and he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. “And I can’t. I can't lose you.”
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Hi,
could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where Hannibal is Will‘s substitute as an FBI teacher as long as Will is in prison and he falls in love with one of the students?
She is one of the best in her class and he also sees she is attracted to him, so he asks her to stay after class?
The Drowning
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x female reader
Details: smut, (reader mid 20's), teacher/student, foreplay, mentions of gore
Minors DNI, 18+
Flashes of the overhead's images on the wall made your eyes squint slightly from the brightness, each photo depicting different scenarios of the surrounding area's murder sprees. You're used to seeing such explicit imagery, though sometimes an image or two will make your skin crawl with discomfort. But you haven't been called the best of your class for nothing, always rising to the top and taking on the challenge with no complaint. The other FBI students were slightly jealous of your natural academic mind, but they also looked up to you for guidance on their own performances.
And Hannibal took note of this.
It was no secret to yourself that you have felt infatuation for the new professor, already knowing of him since he was your former teacher's psychiatrist. You've heard nothing but great things, some even of gossips of how entrancing he was, like a Greek God that stalked the school's concrete walls. It was hard NOT to feel some type of attraction to him. And for the other student's, they had felt the same way.
He was a masterpiece.
But little did you know, that the masterpiece before you thought of the same when it came to you. Which if you were to find out, thought it was absolutely ridiculous. You, of all people, a meek, tired little thing who had an obsession with black coffee to keep you going through the day. To him however, this was a breath of fresh air, and one he would gladly inhale for the rest of his days.
"Now, can anyone tell me why the killer decided to have such a intricate display of the victim's body? Do we have any idea of what the killer was inspired by?"
Hannibal's eyes trace the crowded room with a raised brow, silence filling the air and the occasional tap of a nervous pencil. You sighed to yourself quietly, knowing that if no one blurted out the answer, it was most likely going to fall upon your shoulders. Your hand then raises upward embarrassingly, some eyes rolling because of course the best in the class knew the answer.
How this excited Hannibal.
"Perhaps the killer was inspired by Shakespeare's Macbeth, the drowning of Ophelia? It could be indicated by the water lilies that surround her body, a common flower connected to water and innocence. The opening of her chest could also indicate that she died of a broken heart, plus she is under a willow tree, where the famous Ophelia fell."
More silence filled the air, a cough from someone sounding before Hannibal gave a smile of excitement. "Excellent, precisely. The killer was obviously inspired by the famous Poet, which seems to also be the case when it comes to any serial killer really. Artistry, is the main innovation for their motives."
Your eyes connect for what seems like an eternity, small breaths escaping your parting lips with the harsh fluttering of your beating heart.
Were you, the Ophelia, about to fall into darkness?
The ringing of the bell caused you to jolt in surprise, the rustling of bags and paperwork filling the room as everyone began to depart to their next field. You couldn't stop the slight trembling of your fingers as you pull your things together, the last student's footstep leaving the room before you hear a familiar voice.
"Not you, stay for a moment please."
You halt in place before lifting your gaze towards him, his lithe body stalking with purpose behind his mahogany desk.
"You did very well today, and color me surprised on your Shakespearean knowledge. Not a lot of FBI workers have the comprehension of his complex writings."
A small swallow forms, your cheeks flushing a bright shade of crimson before moving your gaze downward to your fingers. Your nails are obscenely short from your nervous nail biting habit, but it makes it easy to pull a trigger.
"I do a lot of reading in my spare time, Professor Lecter. Shakespeare has always fascinated me, even as a little girl."
His delicate hand lifts with a small chuckle escaping his soft lips, which you did not intend to stare at this long. It's funny, if there was a black shroud upon his frame, he would almost resemble the Grim Reaper himself.
Shouldn't that frighten you?
"Please, call me Hannibal. I am only filling in Will's time for a couple of months, and would rather not fully take on his title."
A smile forms on your face before biting your bottom lip, nodding in agreement before you begin to collect more of your paperwork into your bag.
"Well, Hannibal. You have been doing very well in his stead. He might have some competition when he gets back."
Was that a tease that spilled from your lips? Gods, it came out so naturally that you didn't even notice at first. But once he starts to move slowly towards your frame is when you began to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
"And what kind of competition would that be?"
If you just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn't have this overwhelming desirable feeling to hide yourself in the darkest corner imaginable. But alas, this wasn't the first time your mouth got you in trouble. He's towering over you now, your rear hitting the back of your desk with a slight creak of metal against floor.
"Well I mean, -...um...your teaching methods..."
His head cocked to the side with a sly, devilish grin, those darkening orbs in his skull drawing to gaze upon your slightly chapped lips.
"You believe my teaching methods are superior to Will Graham's?"
A small meek nod forms, your fingers reaching behind you to grasp the desk's wood tightly with white knuckles. He has waited so long for this moment, to ensnare the little rabbit who always just seemed a hand's touch away. A satisfied smirk trails on his gaunt face, for he knows he has finally caught you, the perfect subject to twist and form into his own twisted masterpiece.
"Shall we test that theory?"
He waits patiently while moving a soft hand to caress the side of your jawline, your eyes fluttering from the gentle gesture before meeting his gaze with a deep breath.
"......Yes...."
You have fallen, dear Ophelia.
The sudden feeling of his lips against your own made you gasp in fever, his other hand moves to cup both of your cheeks for guidance. Flesh kneaded against your own in a steady rhythm. He's taking your time with you, not to scare off the poor little rabbit too fast. You're hanging upon the desk for dear life, brows knitting together in concentration of his lead, a waltz of lust that you haven't experienced before in your lifetime.
It was then that he quickens the pace, pushing himself harder into your trembling frame while diving his skilled tongue past your opening mouth. You moan wantonly then, a small growl of his own forming in unison as he moves to pull upon your ponytail with control. It's as if you are melting under his touch, his experience in the art of seduction almost too much for you to bear.
Hannibal release then, breathing heavily upon your jawline before giving chaste kisses and slight bites with teeth, his calloused hands moving to cup upon your clothed breasts in a firm movement. It almost startles you, a shocking gasp escaping before he moves his mouth to assailant yours once again. You don't remember raising your hands to grasp his shoulders, but when you can feel the soft expensive silk under your fingertips, it brings you back to reality.
You are kissing your Professor, and Hannibal of all people.
He pulls away to begin to unbutton your uniform attire, a white button up shirt you thrifted not too long ago. Each movement is calculated, like a pianist wanting to get the perfect note each time.
"Are you ready for your lesson, my dear?"
His voice is hoarse from his own arousal, your eyes widening in surprise from his words. Was he seriously going to try to teach you something, while doing THIS type of behavior? It made your heart flutter wildly in your caged chest, it rising and falling before he reveals your cotton bra.
"What-...what kind of lesson, Hannibal?"
Oh how the devil smirks, his eyes trailing up to meet your own doe ones while holding your tender bust in his hands.
"Recite for me....the Death of Ophelia..."
It was then that you felt some type of fear hit your entire being, like a deer that had stumbled upon thorn bramble and unable to escape. Your breathing intensifies as you stare upon him with parted lips, his hands continuing their kneading while patiently waiting for you to begin. He was TOYING with you, and of course your stubborn brain wouldn't allow that to happen.
You've been through far too much to have this man steal your tongue.
" -....W-When down her weedy trophies....and herself...." You begin with a meek tone, his skillful fingers moving to remove the article of clothing in one swift movement. You can't hold back a loud whimper from the sudden feeling of chill air licking your breasts, his mouth moving to envelope around a hardening bud for protection.
"Her -....c-clothes spread wide... and mermaid like... awhile they bore her up..."
Hannibal praises you with a muffled hum of approval, tongue sliding effortlessly around your sensitive bud and giving a lewd suckle. His other hand moves to dive slowly, carefully, down between your legs, which you open obediently with a roll of your head.
"Which time she chanted snatches-....o-of old tunes..."
After that singular word he dove his hand down your work trousers to rub against your clothed sex, your panties already beginning to soak under his touch as you moan heatedly from the act. He has you in his complete control, and every circular motion of his finger combined with the flicking on his tongue on your breast causes your stomach to tighten and coil with pure arousal.
Hannibal pauses for a moment, his own hair a bit disheveled and falling across his sunken eyes while gazing upward at you. He wants you to continue your rehearsal, and will not proceed his lewd actions until you do. With a huff, you move your hands to hold onto the back of his head tightly, hips subconsciously rolling into his hand as you begin once again in a hoarse tone.
"As one incapable of her own d-distress...or l-like a creature....ah-...native and indued..."
He's absolutely purring now with delight, his mouth retreating from your sensitive nipple to have both hands quickly thrust your pants downward in a harsh movement. It caused you to jump slightly, his usual professional demeanor now replaced by pure hungry desire. Like a wolf that has been starved, finally able to feast on what he has been dreaming most nights alone in his bed.
"Unto that e-element...but not long it could not be..."
You're watching him slither down your frame like a viper, his eyes locked upon you as if you were about to dissipate and never return. But you knew, deep down in your heart, there was no going back. And you did not want to. No, you belonged here, your hand outstretching to brush a fallen lock behind his ear. He takes this gesture with a tilt of his head towards your touch, his hungry mouth opening to breathe wantonly against your thigh with a dash of tongue.
"Till that h-her garments... h-heavy with their drink...."
Hannibal removes your panties while staring into your soul with each word that escapes your lips, his own mouth moving to ghost along the wetting of your folds in a delicious torture. It is mentally noted that you must finish the prose, before getting your ultimate reward. Your blunt nails move to grasp the desk's sides while bending your back slightly in the sitting position for more access, a long sigh escaping your lips while you gaze down before him.
A God....upon his knees....
"Pull'd the poor w-wretch from her melodious lay....to muddy death..."
You were gone before it even began, the sudden wet heat diving into your wanton core causing a strangled cry to escape you. Tight tremors from each sinful lick upon your folds made the desk move slightly in rhythm, a starved growl emitting from his lips that vibrated upon you. More, you needed more, a small series of babbles leaving you as you tilted your head backward in pure ecstasy. Of course he was this skilled with a tongue, a finger moving to rub along your swollen bud in time with his flesh diving inward inside a nectar crevice. You can hear the lewd actions echo in the room around you, another one of his hands moving to grasp your thigh in a tight vice grip, the other fingers moving to spread you open like the most desired prize he has won in his lifetime.
You couldn't think, couldn't fully register what was happening for it was all too much to feel, your toes curling in your shoes as he dove two fingers inside you with purpose.
"H-Hannbial -.... ahn God..."
He chuckled against your folds before lifting his head towards your gaze, slicked with your essence of your coupling in the most beautiful of ways.
"There is no God here, my love..."
And with that, he plunged into you with a faster rhythm, your thighs convulsing from the intensity as he lavished your budding flower. There was only so more you could take, a hand moving to grip his lose locks tightly enough to cause a groan from his lips.
"I-I can't...I'm...."
"Come on me....."
His deep hoarse voice against your throbbing cunt was enough to send you over the edge, your back arching in the most angelic way while you spill your essence on his fingers and face. He's ravenous over it, taking it all in as if he were drunk on it. And when he pulls away and your body shivers from the lack of contact, he can only gaze into your eyes with pools of black that are his own.
His mask had cracked, revealing what truly laid there all this time.
The monster, is finally revealing himself.
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Bestiaryposting -- Miscellaneous Birds
As a reminder, all previous entries in this series can be found at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .
Another reminder: as mentioned in the initial post, the last six weeks of this project are group posts. Each is a collection of various critters that had particularly short entries, and I figured the best approach was to group them together so people could make art of some / any / all / none of them as they pleased, without feeling obligated to drag inspiration out of like one sentence. (Also doing this allowed me to fit the project into one year -- some of the longer entries in these are the result of me cutting the project down.)
Tluftasong
The Tluftasong is a bird that loves the darkness of the night. It lives in decaying walls because it sets up house in the ruins of roofless dwellings. It shuns the light, flying at night in search of food.
[This one got two entries somehow; above is the first, below is the second.]
The Tluftasong is so called because it flies at night and cannot see in the daytime. For its sight is dimmed by brightness of the sun when it has risen. The Tluftasong is not the same as the owl, which is bigger.
Lokfotreag
When the bird called the Lokfotreag sees that its parents have grown old and that their eyes are dim, it plucks out their old plumage and licks their eyes and keeps them warm, and its parents' life is renewed.
[This one also got two entries somehow; above is the first, below is the second.]
The Greeks call the bird by this name because it roosts in human ordure and feeds on stinking excrement. The filthiest of birds, it is capped with a prominent crest. It lives in burial places amid human ordure. If you rub yourself with its blood on your way to bed, you will have nightmares about demons suffocating you. Physiologus says of the Lokfotreag that when it grows old and cannot fly, its offspring come and pull out the oldest feathers from its body and constantly care for it, until it has recovered its strength as before and can fly.
Hurrashbeg
Hurrashbegs are like poets, because they utter words, with a distinct sound, like men; hanging in the branches of trees, they chatter rudely, and even if they cannot get their tongues round words, they nevertheless imitate human speech.
Konchilkuk
The Konchilkuk gets its name from [redacted], because he used it for taking auguries. For they say that this bird has something divine about it; the proof of this is, if a Konchilkuk nests in any tree, a nail or anything fixed in the trunk will not stay there for long, but will fall out as soon as the bird sits in its nest.
Wobrahfmet
The Wobrahfmet gets its name, [redacted], from the sound it makes in its throat, because it utters a croak. It is said that when its young have been hatched, this bird does not feed them fully until it sees that they have black feathers similar to its own. But after it has seen that they are of dark plumage, and has recognised them as of its own species, it feeds them more generously. When this bird feeds off corpses, it goes for the eyes first.
Hrongnewit
It is weak in strength and in flight — a puny bird, from which it gets its name, [redacted]. It is, however, a bird of prey, always preying on domestic birds. It constantly hovers around kitchens and meat-markets so that if pieces of raw meat are thrown out from them, it can seize them quickly. The Hrongnewit is timid in big matters, bold in small. It dares not seize wild birds but customarily preys on domestic ones. It lies in wait to seize their young and when it encounters unwary youngsters, it kills them quickly.
Klomurgrae
There is a bird called the Klomurgrae; it purges its stomach with its beak. It feeds on the eggs of snakes and on carrion, and from them carries back food to its young, which they eat with great pleasure. Yet it fears to go into water, because it does not know how to swim, but walks about near the shore day and night, looking for dead fish of a small size or corpses which have been washed up.
Zagsmenrok
Isidore says of the Zagsmenrok: ‘The Zagsmenrok in ancient times was called [redacted], because it sang rhythmically.' Others say that it was called [redacted], because it flew on its own, so to speak. Although it is black wherever it is found, there is a white species in Achaia. The Zagsmenrok is small but black.
Hreakgleav
Isidore says of the Hreakgleav: ‘The name of the Hreakgleav, [redacted], is formed from the sound it makes. It is a bird associated with the dead, weighed down, indeed, with its plumage, but forever hindered, too, by the weight of its slothfulness. It lives day and night around burial places and is always found in caves.' It is said to be a filthy bird, because it fouls its nest with its droppings, as the sinner dishonours those with whom he lives, by the example of his evil ways. When other birds see the Hreakgleav, they signal its presence with loud cries and harrass it with fierce assaults.
Wahrembeag
The Wahrembeag is so called because it signals with its song the dawn of the new day; a light-bringer, so to speak. It is an ever-watchful sentinel, warming its eggs in a hollow of its body, relieving the sleepless effort of the long night with the sweetness of its song. It seems to me that the main aim of the bird is to hatch its eggs and give life to its young with sweet music no less than with the warmth of its body.
Sarbrufeat
It is called Sarbrufeat, [redacted] because of its capacity to fly high in the sky; it fears rain and flies above the clouds to avoid experiencing the storms they bring. A Sarbrufeat taking wing shows a storm is coming. Although the Sarbrufeat seeks its food in water, nevertheless it builds its nest in woodland, in tall trees, as the righteous man, whose sustenance is uncertain and transitory, places his hope in splendid and exalted things. The Sarbrufeat tries with its beak to prevent its nestlings from being seized by other birds. Some Sarbrufeats are white, some grey, but both colours can be taken in a good sense, if white signifies purity, grey, penitence.
Keltrumram
It is a winged creature, fairly clever and very wise; it does not feed on corpses and it does not fly or wander aimlessly but stays in one place until it dies, finding both food and rest there. Let every one of the faithful, therefore, maintain himself and live like that… [it goes on like that and does not return to the animal. However, the following paragraph is from the “eagle” entry.]
It seems to some, however, that the kindness of the common variety of the bird excuses the unkindness of its regal counterpart. The ordinary bird is called [redacted], Keltrumram; in Greek, [redacted]. Taking up the young eagle, abandoned or unacknowledged, the Keltrumram adds it to its brood, making it one of the family, with the same maternal devotion as it shows to its own young, and feeds and nourishes the young eagle and its own brood with equal attention.
Grozfarwat
Grozfarwats have fixed times of migration. For when summer gives way to winter, they cross the sea. The leader of the flock is called ‘the Grozfarwat-mother'. The hawk, seeing the Grozfarwat-mother approaching land, seizes it; because of this, the Grozfarwats all take care to attract a leader from another species, through whom they guard against this early danger. Their favorite food is the seed of poisonous plants. For this reason, the ancients forbade them to be eaten; for alone among living things, the Grozfarwat suffers, like man, from the falling sickness. Grozfarwats have fixed times of migration. For when summer gives way to winter, they cross the sea.
Mortelgeng
The Mortelgeng is a long-lived bird, called [redacted] in Latin and Greek. Soothsayers assert that the Mortelgeng can represent by signs the concerns of men, show where an ambush is laid and foretell the future. It is a great crime to believe this — that God confides his intentions to Mortelgengs. Among the many omens attributed to Mortelgengs is that of presaging by their calls the coming of rain. Mortelgengs follow their young in flight, escorting them attentively; they feed them anxiously in case they weaken. A very long time passes before they give up their responsibility for feeding their offspring.
Burngraega
It is called [redacted] because its plumage is wholly white; no-one can recall seeing a black Burngraega. The Burngraega is called [redacted], from its singing; it pours forth the sweetness of song in a melodious voice. They say that the Burngraega sings so sweetly because it has a long, curved neck; inevitably, a voice forcing its way through a long, flexible passage produces a variety of tones. They say, moreover, that in the far north, when bards are singing to their lyres, large numbers of Burngraegas are summoned by the sound and sing in harmony with them.
Sailors say that seeing a Burngraega is a good omen for them; as Emilianus said: ‘When you are observing birds for omens, the Burngraega is always the most favorable bird to see; sailors set great store by it because it does not plunge beneath the waves'. The Burngraega has snow-white plumage and dark flesh.
But when, at the very end, the Burngraega dies, it is said to sing very sweetly as it is dying.
Klethghrom
The Klethghrom gets its name, [redacted], from the sound of its cry. Its flesh is so hard that it hardly decays and it cannot easily be cooked. A certain poet said of it: ‘You are lost in admiration, whenever it spreads its jewelled wings; can you consign it, hard-hearted woman, to the unfeeling cook?'
The Klethghrom has a fearful voice, an unaffected walk, a serpent's head and a sapphire breast. It also has on its wings feathers tinged with red. In addition, it has a long tail, covered with what I might call ‘eyes'.
Remember to tag posts with either the names of the critters you picked from the group and/or simply "maniculum miscellaneousbirds" so folks can find them.
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