rekiilysm

[rekiilysm]

THIS IS SO CUTE IM CRYING

SUGAR, SPICE, AND EVERYTHING NICE ━━ FA14.

being the wife to a formula one driver is hard, especially when they're far away.

( fernando alonso x wife!reader )

━━ one shot.

When you were ten, you baked with your grandmother for the first time and fell in love. With the flour up to your elbows, an apron two sizes too big looped twice around your waist, and your grandmother's sweet voice crooning along to Sergio Endrigo, she taught you the differences between a teaspoon and a tablespoon, that a pinch sometimes means two, and when it comes to cinnamon you can never have too much.

“My angioletto,” she called you, her little angel, “it doesn’t have to look pretty when it’s done. When I was younger, I made my husband, your nonno, the ugliest cookies you could imagine. But I put my love in it, and he loved me very much, and he ate every single one and for the rest of his years claimed they were the best cookies I ever made for him.”

She’d lifted you onto the stool at the counter, so you could peer down at the mangled mess of cinnamon rolls. “It may look odd on the outside, but it is just as delicious as the others, and you know what? It’s even more special because it was made by my granddaughter.”

She’d wrapped you up in her arms then, pressing a kiss to your forehead and laughing loudly and warmly when you tried to squirm out of her arms with a giggle of your own.

“One day, my angioletto, you will find someone who loves you with their entire heart, and it won’t matter how pretty your baking is, because they will eat it, and to them it will taste like heaven.” She’d pulled apart the cinnamon roll, looked you in the eye, and smiled— “Until that someone gets here, I will stand in.”

You ate the whole pan together, and neither of you cared that it ruined your appetite for supper or gave you a stomach ache a little while later.

She’d driven you home that night after the sun had set, and when you got to the little shop on the corner of the market square, a little storefront overgrown with ivy, she’d slowed to a cruise and pointed out where the old sign used to be— where there was just an off-color splotch where the walls around it had been bleached by the sun.

She had regaled you with another story of her time as a girl in the kitchen baking bread with the owner, as she did every morning before school in exchange for a few dollars a month, and then she told you, as she always did, that one day she’d buy it for herself and turn it back into the best bakery Italy had ever seen.

When you were twenty— a law school dropout, struggling to find your place in a world that didn’t seem to have any room for you— you bought the small shop on the corner of the market square, turned it into a bakery, and named it after your grandmother.

It was all on a whim, a result of what you're pretty sure was some quarter-life crisis brought on by feeling as lost as you were. Still, you were living out the lingering ghost of a pipe dream from your teenage years that your father's harsh words and mother's disapproval had shattered to pieces, and following in the footsteps of the woman who inspired your passion for creation.

You’re nearly thirty now, and you still don’t regret buying the bakery. It’s your home away from home now— your home when your heart is halfway around the world and waking up as you go to bed. You love what you do, and you feel grateful that you’ve lucked out in being able to spend your days doing something that makes you so genuinely happy.

But that doesn’t mean that every day is easy.

Today is one of those hard days. Valentine’s Day is just a week away which means orders are coming in like crazy, and on top of the hecticness it’s also the thirteenth anniversary of your grandmother’s passing. Even though you’ve made it these thirteen years without her, the reminder of her legacy— her dream, which you now live for her— is no easier to deal with now than it was all those years ago when you’d just lost her.

The smell of fresh bread from the kitchen and the deep lull of Sergio Endrigo over the bakery’s speakers do nothing but remind you of her and the afternoons you spent in her kitchen, kneading dough and icing cookies. You feel like a little girl again, laughing over old stories of your mother and flushing bright red when she’d bump her hip against yours and ask if there were any boys at school that had caught your eye.

You’d give anything to hear her talk about her days at the bakery one more time, have her guide you through another recipe, or listen to her sing along to old Italian classics.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Beatrice asks. She’s a young American woman you met a few years back when she was studying abroad. She hadn’t known much Italian back then, and you were the first person she’d met who could speak English, so she’d asked you for directions to the nearest bus station and you had walked her there to make sure she wouldn’t get lost, which had led to you both talking, trading contact information, and eventually you offering her a job at the bakery when she announced to you months later after continued talking that she’d be staying for the foreseeable future.

You wipe your hands against your apron and offer her a smile. It doesn’t come as easily as it normally does, and you feel like it shows. “Just being a bit nostalgic today,” you admit, turning your gaze to the picture of your grandmother that hangs on the wall across from the display case.

There are other pictures hung up with her— you in front of the bakery on the day you bought it, the bakery back when your grandmother still worked there nearly sixty years ago, you and your husband the day you got married, and Beatrice with her three dogs to list a few, all things and places and people you love and want to remember.

“My grandmother, who I named this place after, have I ever told you about her?”

Beatrice hums, thinking back to the many conversations you have both shared you imagine. As she does so, she reaches for a cloth to start wiping down the front of the display case. “I don’t think so,” she finally answers, rounding the counter to the glass front. “I knew the bakery was named after her, and that she taught you to bake, but not much else. You don’t really talk about her much.”

You frown, “I guess I don’t.”

“But it’s okay,” Beatrice adds quickly. “I know family can be a touchy topic. If you’d rather not talk about her, I understand. I’m not very fond of talking about my brother, to be honest.”

The only time Beatrice does talk about her brother is when she’s drunk, which she usually tends to be when the two of you sit down over a bottle of wine and gossip about the happenings of your lives. You’ve heard plenty of stories about him, and thinking back to the most recent one in particular startles a laugh out of you.

Beatrice seems relieved when you glance back over to her with a soft smile.

“My grandmother was the greatest woman I ever knew,” you start. “Do you mind if I talk about her?”

Your employee— your friend— smiles gently at you and continues polishing away the smudges on the display case. “I would love it if you talked about her.

“She used to call me her little angel…”

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yourusername i’ll leave a piece just for you, nonna.

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user that looks delicious!!

user it’s actually my dream to visit y/n’s bakery 😍

↳ user no cuz literally same, idk anyone else who makes smth as simple as bread look so amazing

↳ user it’s like how irl some foods don’t look that good but somehow in cartoons they make it look like it’s the most appetizing thing in the entire world i would actually cut off my own arm and leg just to get to try a single bite

user così carino!! ❤️❤️

user how is it possible to make food look heavenly 😳

user every time she posts food it makes me want to marry a husband that can bake bc there’s no way i could ever do this myself but i do in fact want to live a life like this so very badly

↳ user FELT THIS OMG

user what a beautiful way to remember someone 🫶

user she’s gorgeous aND SHE CAN BAKE???

↳ user she’s really the most wag of all wags 😩

↳ user fell down a rabbit hole of wag interactions throughout the years and y/n’s introduction into the group is so iconic bc she baked them all cookies and brought them when she first met them all

↳ user i read that in an interview that she knows all their favourites and tries to make them all throughout the season when she goes to races

↳ user she’s actually such a sweetheart irl too, i visited the bakery before i ever knew who she was or what f1 is and if i hadn’t already seen that ring on her finger i would’ve shot my shot no joke 😔😔

↳ user what’s alonso’s secret??? where can i find me a wifey like that???

user this is gorgeous

user using food to celebrate a loved one is one of the most loving things a person can do in my opinion. so much love goes into food, but especially baked goods which take time and patience and practice. this is a really touching and beautiful way to honor someone, and i hope she’s watching down on you and thinking the same thing ❤️

↳ user didn’t think i was gonna be crying today but here we are ig 😭

fernandoalo_oficial mi vida, she would be so proud of you 💛

↳ yourusername i hope so, i am who i am because of her 💛

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yourusername arrivederci 💛

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fernandoalo_oficial and may it be soon, mi vida 💛

user obsessed with the way fernando is obsessed with his wife

↳ user the fact that he calls her mi vida every time he addresses her has me walking into oncoming traffic 🙃

↳ user “my life” in spanish 😭😭 i literally fucking can’t when is it my turn to get a man that loves and cherishes me like this

↳ user honestly i think it’s just time to accept we’ll be alone forever cuz if he don’t treat me the way fernando treats his wife then i don’t want him

user for the ppl asking, arrivederci means until we meet again in italian, it’s a pretty common way to say goodbye in italy

↳ user AND FERNANDO SAID AND MAY IT BE SOON OH I AM ILL

user when will he return from the war…

↳ user it’s only february the season hasn’t even started yet so why isn’t he with her??

↳ user aston martin’s hq is in the uk and fernando has to be there for the car reveal, testing/sims, training, promo content, etc. it’s the logistical pr side of formula 1 that makes the season start a lot earlier than what ppl might think

↳ user AND OVER VALENTINE’S DAY TOO??? 😭😭😭😭

user mama y papa

user i want to grow old with someone and have pictures of our vacations to look back on and remember and i don’t think that’s too much to ask for

user she’s posting like he’s dead or smth 💀

↳ user i mean i would be too if my husband was missing valentines day bc of work tbf 🤷‍♀️

user i can’t believe fernando alonso bagged a baddie who ain’t even 30 yet

↳ user i can have you SEEN fernando alonso?? 👀👀👀

↳ user have you SEEN y/n?? 👀👀👀

↳ user two baddies bagged each other guys there’s not a lot to try and comprehend

Fernando being gone has never really mattered to you much. You miss him, of course. He’s your husband and ideally, you would be able to travel the world with him on a whim without needing to worry about who’s in charge of the bakery, but despite how perfect your life seems with Fernando by your side, there are a lot of things that don’t go according to plan and Fernando’s hectic work schedule is one of them.

The constant traveling across the season is exhausting for both of you, even though you’re not the one doing the majority of it. You attend his races when you can— usually when Beatrice forces you to, which is more and more recently as of late, with the logic that you should get the chance to see the world while you’re still young and while Fernando is still racing— but even when you’re home in Naples, the worry that you feel for Fernando as he flies around the world and races in a dangerous car takes its toll.

You wouldn’t even think of ever asking him to give it up, but not being by his side is hard and you cannot afford— for the sake of the bakery— to follow him wherever his sport takes him. So for now, you will always worry and stress about the toll it all takes on him as well.

You honestly hadn’t given much thought that he’d be missing Valentine’s Day this year, but it occurs to you now as you scroll through the comments on your post.

It’s by far the first time he’ll be gone for the holiday, but something about this year just feels different. Maybe it’s the stress of the extra workload you’ve taken on at the bakery to make up for the extra orders this year and the employees that have had to call out, or maybe the anniversary of your grandmother’s passing is hitting you harder this time than it has in the past, but whatever it is, the idea of Fernando not being here to celebrate with you has your eyes filling with tears as you sit curled up in bed.

Alone.

As you have been for the last few weeks now.

Fernando is in Silverstone, preparing for the launch of the new car and getting back into the swing of things before the new season starts, and this is part of the job you understand. You’ve been his wife for many years now. The racing may start in March, but the real season begins much sooner, and to a certain degree it never truly ends.

There’s always a push to be staying in shape, eating healthy, and staying up to date with all the up-and-coming news. Fernando has worked hard to try and find the middle ground, to enjoy his break while he has it, and take a step back from the Formula One world if only to de-stress from the sport’s particular brand of pressure.

And you’ve worked hard to accept that he will always be thinking like a race car driver.

Nonetheless, though you have enjoyed the interview clips and photographs of him being posted around on social media, and you love even more the pictures your husband’s teammate has been sending you and you alone, you can’t help but want to be selfish. You want to have him with you, in your home, cuddled up beside you instead of 1700 kilometers away in another country.

But that’s the way of things.

You’re about to turn off the lamp and, maybe, cry yourself to sleep while ignoring the very cold and very empty other half of a bed that’s too big for one— a bed you haven’t slept in the middle of since before you ever met Fernando, too used to occupying one side and finding another body on the other— when your phone lights up with an incoming call and his contact image flashes across your screen.

It’s late in Italy, nearing midnight now, and the UK isn’t too far behind. With the strictness of his daily schedule and the importance of a full night of rest, he should already be in bed by now. He should’ve already been in bed hours ago, if you remember correctly from past seasons.

“Fernando?”

“My love,” he greets, soft and sweet and sounding like just hearing you say his name has left him breathless. You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “I am sorry that it’s so late. I hope I did not wake you up, but I am calling because I simply could not bear to fall asleep without hearing you.”

You sniffle, wiping away at the tears in your eyes, but the quiet noise must’ve been enough for him to hear because he makes an inquisitive sound.

“Mi vida,” he calls to you, concern seeping into his words. “What is wrong? Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum back to him, shifting around in bed to face the window and the scenic view that lies beyond. You can see the ocean from your home— the dark water pulling in and pushing out and glittering with the reflected light of the moon, and the boats docked at the marina, still, silent, asleep. The moon’s glow paints the cityscape in an ethereal haze, like something from a fairytale. “I’m okay. Just a bad few days. I miss you, Fernando.”

“I know, my love,” he coos. “But we will be together soon. Do you remember what I told you when I left?”

As if you could possibly forget. The morning he left, a fog had rolled in from the sea and you’d swathed yourself in a shawl to chase away the early, damp chill as you stood on the stoep to see him off.

Fernando had wrapped you up in his arms, an embrace so warm and safe that the feeling had lingered for hours afterward still, and he’d whispered in your ear that he would move mountain and sea to get back to you if you ever needed him.

“But I always need you,” you’d teased. He’d chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, a promise, and then pulled you in even closer, tucking your head beneath his chin and letting his fingers run through your hair and comb through the remaining bedhead tangles.

You would similarly move earth and sky to be with him again now, just to feel his arms around you, or in the bed beside you.

“I meant what I said,” he says over the phone, drawing your attention back.

You hum again, “I know. But sweetheart, you have a job to do. It’s a very important job, too.” You curl the blankets around you tighter. “Pay no mind to my musings, okay? It’s just been a rocky start. The bakery has lots of orders to get through for Valentine’s Day, and I am short-staffed now.”

“What has happened?”

“What hasn’t?” You joke, heaving a sigh. “Rodrigo broke his hand in a biking accident this past Sunday, and the doctor says he’ll be out for a month at least. I can have him work the register and do minor cleaning chores, but we really need him in the kitchen because Andrea hasn’t yet been trained to use the equipment. I am trying to have Beatrice help with that, but it will take time we don’t have. On top of that, Samuel’s wife is having her baby so he has taken paternity leave, and Gemma has gone back to France for her mother’s birthday.”

Fernando makes a noise of understanding. “You are so stressed, mi vida. I wish there was more I could do. I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You have no reason to. In fact, I should be thanking you because I’m feeling so much better just hearing your voice,” you answer. Feeling the tears dissipate as your husband’s joyous laughter trickles into your ear from the phone’s speaker.

“And I am better just hearing yours,” he says. “But I will leave you to sleep now. It’s too late for you to be awake. Te amo, mi esposa.”

“Ti amo, marito mio.”

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lance_stroll i’m really only here to take pictures for his wife

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fernandoalo_oficial the heart is for her only

yourusername and i appreciate you very much for it lancino 🫶

↳ lance_stroll at least someone cares about the work i put in 😔

astonmartinf1 Breaking News: Aston Martin’s Lance Stroll challenges Aston Martin’s social media admin for their job

↳ lance_stroll thanks but i think i’ll stick to driving fast cars. it’s less stress.

user FERNANDO MAKING FINGER HEARTS FOR HIS WIFE 😭😭😭

user if you look closely you can actually see me about to jump off the roof in that last picture 🫠

↳ user real

user why is the first one so cute??

user lance is really just fernando and y/n’s kid at this point, he’s the disgruntled son who reluctantly takes pictures of his dad to send to his mom, and he complains about it, but he secretly loves doing it

↳ user i mean have you SEEN what y/n does for his birthday each year??

↳ user no????

↳ user she specifically learned how to make bannock and a bunch of other traditionally canadian desserts and baked goods for him

↳ user i bet lance’s trainer hates that lmao 😂😂

↳ user you all are talking about them like y/n isn’t just a few years older than lance himself is 💀

↳ user leave fernando and his controversially young wife alone

↳ user guys?? he’s literally only 42?? y/n is almost in her 30s, it could definitely be worse. at least they’re both well into adulthood

user nobody talk to me for the rest of the day this is all i can think about now

user HE MAKES LANCE TAKE PICTURES TO SEND TO HIS WIFE PLS OH MY DAYS

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fernandoalo_oficial throwback thursday, as they say, except it isn’t thursday and i just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife. te amo 💛.

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yourusername i love you more mio carissimo 💛

↳ fernandoalo_oficial impossible, i love you the most

user adding “posts me just bc he can” to my list of standards for men

user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

user “just wanted a reason to post my beautiful wife” oh my god fernando alonso the man that you are… 😩😩

user guys he’s the blueprint

↳ user she’s so lucky

user WHEN IS IT MY TURN???? CAN I NOT BE HAPPY TOO????

user she’s actually so beautiful omg 😳😳😳

↳ user they’re such a power couple

↳ user super excited for y/n to be back in the paddock this year (fingers crossed it happens more) cuz she’s actually so stunning and her outfits are always very classy and fun to look at

↳ user is there a reason she doesn’t go to many races?? they don’t have kids iirc, so idk why she wouldn’t be able to attend more 🤔

↳ user she owns and runs a small bakery in italy, which means she can’t just travel for 9 months out of the year. she shows up when she’s able to, don’t get me wrong, but it’s definitely less frequently than some of the other wags

user gen imagine being fernando alonso’s wife

↳ user i think i would cease to exist

user cuando es mi turno 😭

Valentine’s Day arrives and with it comes the added stress of knowing you’ll be stuck in the bakery all day helping last-minute patrons sort through pastries and treats for their partners. This in and of itself is not a problem, you’ve always liked helping people and baking is your passion after all, but the idea of rising before the sun and being on your feet until long after it sets is not the most appealing, and even worse, your usual happiness is still overshadowed by the cloud of gloom that’s been following you since last week.

Ever since his first late-night call, Fernando has been good about making sure to ring you in the morning before he heads into the factory, and at night when he leaves. It’s helped, certainly, but nothing ever compares to the real thing and that thought makes you feel guiltier every day that you think it.

He has a job to do, a job that he loves. Neither of you should be forced to give up your passions, and that just means needing to make a few sacrifices every once in a while.

He doesn’t call you that morning, however, and though you hide it behind as much of a cheery grin as you can manage, it stings and you’re disappointed.

But throwing yourself into your work is always something you’ve been good at, so you focus instead on kneading dough, mixing pastry filling, and icing cupcakes.

Beatrice finds you back in the kitchen an hour before the bakery is scheduled to open, and the look on her face tells you she knew it’s where you would be.

“You shouldn’t be working today,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

You shrug, sliding a pan of bread from the oven. “We are too short-staffed for me to not be working today. Plus, what would I do anyway? Sit at home alone pretending that I’m not? At least in the bakery, I can put myself to use and be distracted.”

All she does is sigh.

The morning goes well. There’s a bit of a rush when you first open, the most notable of customers is a disgruntled older gentleman who you consider to be a monthly regular. He explains a long-winded story about his daughter’s boyfriend breaking up with her over text last night, and needing something to help cheer her up. He leaves with a box of cannoli, and an extra loaf of bread you threw in for him on the house.

Near the afternoon is when it starts to pick up, but in a lull between customers just after lunchtime, Beatrice corners you in the back. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her eyebrows are furrowed, and her mouth is set in a line.

“Go home,” she orders.

You huff. “Beatrice, I am the boss. Not you.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I am not going home! The rush will get busier later this evening and we are short-staffed—”

“Rodrigo’s coming in to work register in—” she checks the watch on her wrist, “—fifteen minutes. I ran Andrea through kitchen duty the other day and I’ll be supervising her the entire time, and Marco and Silvia both said they could pick up a shift. I also have a text from Samuel’s wife saying if we need even more help she would gladly get her husband out of the house if it means he’ll stop hovering over her, and I’m prepared to take her up on that offer should the need arise.”

You blink at her. There’s a reason she’s the one you leave in charge when you travel, but whenever you’re reminded of just how good she is at managing the bakery you’re always left a little shocked. She orchestrated everything in the span of a morning and you didn’t even notice.

“Why do you want me to go home so badly?” You ask her, shoving your hands down into your apron’s pockets. “Nothing is waiting for me there anyway. Even if we weren’t short-handed, I would’ve still been here.”

“You sure about that?” Is all she says before turning on her heel and exiting back into the front of the bakery.

You don’t pretend to understand what she’s talking about as you hang your apron up and head for home. Beatrice shoots you a wink as you wave goodbye, and it feels like some sort of foreshadowing for whatever awaits you.

Nothing, however, looks any different than it had when you left. You park your car in the empty driveway, collect the newspaper from the stoep, and unlock the door.

Your keys and the newspaper are both tossed onto the counter just inside the kitchen as you toe off your shoes. You hang up your jacket on the dining room chair as you make your way into the living room, and then you pause.

There, resting on the couch is a stuffed toy bear and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. In the bear’s arms is a little sign, and the handwriting is already enough to have your eyes filling with tears.

“Fernando?” You call out to the silent house.

You check the ground floor and find no other sign of him, so you take to the stairs and begin the ascent up to the next, continuing to call out the many different pet names you have given to him throughout the years.

You peek into the bedroom, “Mia vita?”

Stood in the center of the room, a big grin on his face, is your husband. Fernando looks mighty proud of himself, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s had this planned for a while and he’s smug that he’s managed to keep a secret from you. He opens his arms wide when you just continue to stand in the doorway, and like a flip has been switched, you rush into him when a sob of happiness.

He wraps himself around you, and the feeling of his arms holding you so firmly in his embrace is warm and comforting, and everything you had missed in the weeks he was gone. Your face is pressed into the crook of his neck, and the smell of his cologne has you sagging even further against him, sinking as far as you can into his hold.

He presses a kiss to your head and sways the both of you back and forth.

“Mi vida,” he murmurs. “I’m here, my love. I’m here.”

“I didn’t know you were coming home,” you cry against him, voice muffled from where your face is still pressed against him.

He runs a hand through your hair, scratching his nails against your scalp in the way that always calms you down, and hums. You feel it in the vibration of his chest more than you hear it. “I wanted to surprise you after you told me how stressed you were. I told you, no? I would move mountains and seas to be with you whenever you need me.”

“Ti amo,” you whisper against his skin.

“Te amo,” he whispers into your hair.

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yourusername to the luce dei miei occhi, i love you more than life itself 💛

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fernandoalo_oficial mi vida i'll love you in this life and the next, until the very end of time itself 💛

↳ yourusername ti amo mia vita

user LUCE DEI MIEI OCCHI = LIGHT OF MY EYES

↳ user oh my days 🫢

↳ user i’m actually ill that is too cute

user they ARE that couple and they have every right to be

user WAR IS OVER

user i need them to adopt me right tf now it’s not a want it’s a need

user GUYS HE WAS JUST IN SILVERSTONE LIKE A DAY AGO??? FOR THE CAR LAUNCH??? THAT MEANS HE FLEW ALL THE WAY TO ITALY LAST MINUTE JUST TO SEE HIS WIFE FOR VALENTINES DAY

↳ user fernando alonso once again proving why he’s the best husband on the grid

↳ user i’m obsessed with them a totally normal amount

lance_stroll every time i saw him he was talking to someone about how he had plans to surprise his wife, i’m so surprised he didn’t end up ruining the secret somehow

↳ fernandoalo_oficial have more faith in your padre

↳ lance_stroll well i’ve seen my “padre” make the most cartoon heart eyes at a picture of baked goods so i don’t think faith is really gonna cut it. you’re whipped man 🤷‍♂️

↳ yourusername lancino you must put up with so much from this old man

↳ lance_stroll you know what? i really do

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @pear-1206

━━ a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, coming in at a whopping 5.4k words! and it's also the first request i've written for! so, cheers to that. this is my little valentine's day story, because i'm actually a big sap and i really do love good fluffy romances, so writing this distracted me from the fact that i'm actually very alone at the present haha! anyways, hope you all enjoyed! i also wrote this in under 24 hours, and it's a lot, so if there's any editing mistakes please ignore them, i genuinely could not bring myself to re-read all of this looking for every single mistake.

[rekiilysm]

“it was love at every sight.”

(quote: della hicks-wilson)

thank you ⁉️anon for the inspo for this story! ☺️

thank you for reading and enjoy! xx 💋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆

schlatt groaned.

he didn’t understand why they had to bring this random chick onto the podcast. why couldn’t they have someone on that they BOTH knew?

ted had known her for about a year and a half, and they were best friends. but schlatt would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit jealous of their relationship.

ted had always been close with schlatt, but when the name “y/n” started being thrown around, he felt a pang of jealousy.

he didn’t even know what she looked like, he didn’t bother to look her up on any social media. he didn’t care much for this “y/n” girl.

ted caught onto this attitude of course and had been on his ass about being nice to her. “fake it till you make it!”, is what he had kept telling him. and-

“i’m not fake, i’m the real deal!” is what schlatt dramatically scoffed in response.

however, he decided it wouldn’t look very good on him if he was being rude to a girl in front of thousands of people.

so, he shoved his protests deep down inside, put on his regular persona, and decided to just get the episode over with.

as schlatt sat in the booth of their studio, ted was hurrying around, making the final arrangements to begin the session, when he suddenly stopped in front of schlatt.

“she’ll be here soon, are you ready?” ted arched a brow and stuck his crossed arms in front of his chest.

“do we haveeee tooooo?” schlatt sunk into his seat like a 3 year old in protest over not getting a toy at the store.

“yes schlatt we do, it’s too late to back out.”

“BUT I TRIED TO BACK OUT AND YOU WOULDN’T LET ME!” schlatt cried whilst kicking his feet.

“i owe her, and it’ll be good publicity to have an up and coming on the pod.” ted drops his arms.

“what do you have against her anyways? you haven’t met her, no?”

schlatt would never admit to being jealous. thus, he contemplated the correct response.

“uh- well- i don’t know her. and uh- you know her so well, so i think it’ll be awkward.” schlatt mumbled.

“it won’t! i promise. she’s very easy to get on with.” ted smiles with a pat on his shoulder.

“and who knows, maybe you might like her!”

“yeah right.”

bzzz bzzz

ted jumps and picks his phone up from off the table, swiftly checking it.

“she’s here! be right back.” he walks to the exit before turning around and pointing a finger at the mutton chopped man.

“best behavior young man!”

schlatt puts his arms up in surrender. “relaxxxx. you have nothing to worry about.”

ted swings the door open and mumbles as he walks out, “you better be right about that.”

best behavior? best behavior??

yeah right.

he was going to have EXCELLENT behavior.

he was going to prove ted wrong.

schlatt absentmindedly scrolled through his phone until he heard voices approaching the door. and once the door opened, his eyes shot up.

“here we go.” he thought to himself as he sat up from his toddler-esque slump.

the door clicked open, and in walked ted with-

oh.

oh.

suddenly the whole world around schlatt stopped.

he felt his throat get tight.

his heart began to race.

his palms got all sweaty.

did he look ok?

everything around him got all fuzzy, and she was the only clear thing to him.

she.

who was she?

“earth to schlatt?” ted waved his hands in front of schlatts face.

suddenly he was taken out of his trance.

“yeah-sorry, what?”

ted looked at him with a look mixed with suspicion and confusion.

“this is y/n!” ted presents her to him.

y/n reaches her hand out for him to shake.

“hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you! ted has told me lots much about you.” she beamed at him. schlatt takes her hand and shakes it.

among all of the scattered, racing thoughts in his head, one of the only thoughts that were clear to him was that her hands were soft.

a beat of silence passed before schlatt realized he needed to respond. he looked into her eyes and the faintest, but most genuine smile appeared on his face.

“it’s nice to finally meet you too.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

about 45 minutes into the podcast, things were going great- at least in ted’s standards. he was worried schlatt was going to be a prick to her, but he actually had excellent behavior.

that was mainly because throughout the podcast, schlatt had been talking, but not as much be usually would be. and that’s because he was too busy taking in her all in.

it was like he was in a desert and she was his only water source.

he didn’t understand why he felt this way.

he hadn’t felt this was on any of the zoom calls full of girls on the love or host episodes.

he hadn’t felt this way for anyone, not even minx.

schlatt thought he was ok with not being in love or being in a relationship, but apparently he wasn’t?

not to mention, his behavior was unlike his usual self, so it was very noticeable during the recording.

schlatt was beginning to feel that pang of jealously, however, not of y/n. but of ted, and how close he was with her.

as schlatt sat there in his lovestruck trance, he was once again broken out of it by the sound of a soft voice.

“j?” she raised a bow with a confused smile.

J?

J?!?!??!?!

his heart beat faster at that nickname and his cheeks flushed red. why the fuck was he freaking out? it was literally just his name. but nobody has ever called him J before. and-

“sorry, what’s up?”

ted snorted at this, beginning to catch on to this behavior from his dear friend.

and she just let her brows fall into a worried position, all the while keeping a smile plastered across her face.

“i said,” a light blush spreading across her cheeks, “do you think you would ever go on another love or host episode? i was asked by austin recently to have a go at it.”

his heart stopped for a split second.

for some reason, he couldn’t bare the thought of other guys having a chance with her. but then again, what if he was a contestant? what if he had a chance to win her over? what if-

“hmmmmmmmm. i suppose it depends on who id be competing for.” schlatt leaned back in the booth, manspreading.

“i second that.” she points in schlatt’s direction.

ted grins. (mwahahaha type grin)

“you know,” ted leans towards y/n, “i’m sure if you went on, schlatt would be a contestant.” ted flashes a shit eating grin at schlatt.

schlatt turns red and flashes him a look of “oh my fucking god i’m going to fucking kill your fucking dumbass.”

quickly recovering, schlatt scoffs with a “yeahhh righttt. i barely know this broad!”

“yeah well, im sure you’ll know each other well enough soon.” ted smirks and busts out laughing by himself.

what was he doing??

twitter was going to go feral.

schlatt glances over and accidentally makes eye contact with her. but surprisingly, she holds it.

and in the midst of the ugly laughter from their shared best friend, a big, genuine smile, spreads across their cheeks.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

after the episode is wrapped up and everyone is getting ready to leave, schlatt is sitting back at the booth on his phone.

he looks up from his phone and immediately feels his heart beat hard again.

y/n had walked up to him.

“so uh- i was thinking.” she looks down at her feet, that are rocking back between her toes and heels, then back up at him.

“i was thinking we could make a good team to gang up on ted. y’know- get revenge for today.” she’s wearing a small smile, one that suggests that she’s nervous.

schlatt nervousness falters at this and pushes up his confidence to try to make her feels better.

“i was actually thinking the same thing.”

“great minds think alike.” she lets out a giggle.

“right right. well then, you’re going to have to give me your number toots so that we can have a constant source of communication. all good teams communicate after all, right?”

and with that, they exchanged numbers, a smile , and she went back to her hotel.

ted locked the studio, and the pair made their way out to schlatt’s corvette.

and finally.

finally, ted got something out of his system he’d been waiting alllllll day to get out.

“told ya you’d like her.”

[rekiilysm]

Would expect nothing less from them

[rekiilysm]

too sweet - oneshot

jschlatt x reader.

a/n: yes, this is based off the hozier song :) oh yeah schlatts kinda a red flag in one (just how i like them 😌)

"good morning," you whispered in jschlatt's ear. yesterday night, schlatt had asked you to wake him up early so he could work. he stirred and grumbled as you slightly shook him.

"how do you wake up so happy," schlatt mumbles. you were always an early bird. him being the complete opposite.

"maybe you shouldn't have slept so late and drank so much," you chuckled. he slept around 1AM, busy streaming and indulging in whiskey.

he rolled his eyes at this, thinking about corrupting you just to get more sleep. you were a lifestyle youtuber. eating healthy, acting nice, and having good habits to show the public. when he first met you, he thought it wasn't real. he believed it was a front you put up for clout. he got closer to you just to try to break that shell you made. just to see your true self. while he did that, you guys fell in love. he learned it was not a farce, that you were truly too sweet.

he sat upright, barely noticing the cup of coffee in your hands. as his eyes landed on it, you passed it to him.

"thanks," he says as he takes a sip. you made it exactly how he likes it, black with one sugar. in comparison to your mug, which had schlatt's face on it, which had so much sugar and cream in it that it was almost white. one of the only things you indulged in. he smiled at this familiar unhealthyness.

as bad as it was, he wishes that you kept drinking and eating sugary foods. maybe he could put dip you into his acid, making you more bitter like him. you both sat in silence.

"but you know that we both get different types of drunk. i get off of it on whiskey, and you get drunk on life," he cleared his throat. schlatt looked at you for an answer, any type of bad reaction to make your sweetness sour.

"you're wrong," you smiled and looked at him. "i get drunk on you."

schlatt looked away, trying to hide his blush.

“you’re really too sweet for me, huh?”

[rekiilysm]

AWW THIS WAS ADORABLE 🫶🫶

podiums + pregnancies

someone knows how to make an entrance (she gets it from her mummy)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none! (my first post oop)

author's note: welcome to my blog!! this is a bit rough, but i figured it's only going to get better with time so here goes. thanks for spending some time on my little corner of the internet!

y/n was not joking when she said her ankles had left the building. she didn’t know when it had happened, but they had completely and utterly given up on her. 

“Baby girl, it’s just rude at this point,” she said quietly to herself. Despite the discomfort, she was unable to stop the beginnings of a smile when she thought about the little human that she’d couldn’t wait to meet. “I thought we had a deal that you wouldn’t do this to me until my maternity leave started.” 

And that leave was so close she could practically taste it (thank God), but brought with it some bittersweet feelings. In her comfortable seat in the McLaren motorhome, watching the race coverage on the television with papaya headphones secured over her ears, she took a second to enjoy the moment. Her whole life she’d been working towards her dream of being a motorsport journalist, and after a couple of wildly successful interviews with the most closed off of drivers, she was catapulted into the glitzy and glamorous world of F1. In the midst of seeing her dreams come true, she hadn’t expected to fall in love- with the curly haired boy who was currently in a comfortable third place. 

The garage started to buzz with excitement as the end of the race drew closer and closer. y/n gasped as Lando’s position was threatened with five laps to go, but he defended skilfully, pulling ahead on the straight and successfully creating more distance between him and the contender. The mechanics roared, and suddenly there was a flurry of motion as they got ready to cheer their driver to the checkered flag. 

“That’s your daddy!” y/n said, unable to contain her excitement. There was an uncomfortable twinge in her gut when she stood to celebrate him crossing the finish line with the rest of the garage, but it was easily ignored in the midst of hugs and cheers with the rest of the team. Pato found her in the crowd (she was hard to miss at 38 weeks pregnant), and squeezed her shoulders in a side hug. 

“No wonder he’s on the podium, with his lucky charms here,” the McLaren reserve driver said, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. y/n's smile grew as she took him in- race weekends were always made better by his presence in the McLaren garage. Pato had been one of her very first motorsport interviews while working in IndyCar, and her nerves had been through the roof when first meeting him. Luckily, they’d clicked instantly, bonding over their shared upbringing in Texas, and her ability to draw out his wonderful personality on camera had been a huge help to advancing her career. “Wanna head over there?” 

“Yes! Definitely. But I’m warning you, it’s going to be slow.” She shook her head and smiled fondly down at her bump. “I’ve seen turtles who walk faster than me.” 

“Oh, come on,” he said, steadying her arm as she stepped down from the raised platform where chairs were placed in the garage. “I think you could at least win a race with a snail.” 

“Mean!” she laughed, swatting his arm away as they followed the horde of people surging towards the podium. “You get pregnant, and then we’ll see how you do.” 

“Yeah, I don't think that's in the cards for me,” he said, bumping her shoulder. There was too much noise to continue their conversation as they neared the podium, and they only had to pause once on their journey as y/n breathed through another twinge. This one seemed a little stronger, but she recovered quickly, and Pato shielded her as people jostled for a spot close to the front. Luckily, the McLaren team recognized her fondly and made a path towards the fence, closing in behind her and Pato so they couldn’t be bumped around. 

“God, this never gets old.” y/n said, taking in the roar of the crowd, the feeling of being one in a sea of many. 

“Here he comes!” Pato yelled over the many voices around them, and an uncontrollable smile broke out across her face as her boy pulled off his helmet and ran towards them.

He slowed down as he neared her, wrapping her in a tight yet cautious hug. 

“Doing okay, baby?” he said into her ear, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. 

“Are you kidding me? You were amazing out there! I’m so proud of you!” y/n squealed, hugging him as tightly as her belly allowed. Cameras clicked around them as she pulled back to meet his soft lips, smiling into the short kiss. 

“Did it for my girls.” He said, eyes bright as he stared into hers. For a second, it was just them, and she felt a warm rush of gratitude for where life had taken her. Dream career, dream love, and a new dream- a child made from the best parts of both of them, arriving in just a few weeks. 

“Go celebrate with your team,” she mouthed, eyes going glossy. 

He looked conflicted but nodded, gently cupping the sides of her face and planting a kiss on her forehead before stepping away. With a giant whoop, he launched himself into the crowd of waiting McLaren employees, clapping hands with some and hugging others. He shot a wink over at her before walking into the building and the cooldown room, and the crowd grew antsy as they waited for the trophy presentation. 

Now that there was a lapse in the excitement, the twinges y/n felt were becoming harder and harder to ignore. She gripped Pato’s arm to her left as a particularly bad one came on, wincing in pain. 

“y/n?” he asked, voice filled with worry. “Everything okay? Is it too crowded?” 

“Yeah,” she breathed out, the pain subsiding within a few seconds. “I just, I keep feeling this squeezing sensation that I-”

They came to the realization at the same time, and Pato’s eyes seemed to almost be more terrified than hers. “You don’t think?” 

“I uh-, I mean,” Pato looked around frantically. Any hopes of further conversation were blown away as the trophy presentation started, and Lando was announced as the third place driver. He walked out onto the podium, a smile on his face and Pirelli hat on, taking his spot on the third place platform. His happy expression only grew as he scanned the crowd, until his eyes found what y/n assumed was an alarming sight- her practically doubled over, hanging onto Pato’s arm for dear life, and Pato looking like he would rather be thrown out of an F1 car than in this situation. 

Others around them started to take notice, and the female employees in particular rushed to her aid, offering bottles of water. y/n accepted gratefully, and looked up in time to notice that her favorite driver was no longer standing proudly on stage, and all of a sudden he was rushing out to find her at the fence. 

“Go back-” y/n forced out. “Fine. Just need a second.” 

“Baby, no.” He said, finding a way to move the fence so y/n could join him on the other side.  He took charge of supporting her- Pato practically sagged in relief- and ran a hand over her hair. “We have to go. Oh my god, we have to go? Is it time?” 

“No.” y/n said firmly. She could feel all eyes of the crowd on her, and even the announcer on the podium had paused his program to watch the chaos unfolding below. “Your moment! She can wait!”

But as y/n's face crumpled in the wake of another contraction, the decision was made for the both of them by their daughter- she was coming, and she was coming now. His hands shook as he guided her inside, y/n groaning more about making a scene than the pain. Pato called out a feeble “Good luck!” from behind and she sent a weak wave his way. 

A staff member inside the cooldown room had already called an ambulance, and Lando guided y/n into a chair before squatting down to press his forehead against hers. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her hands over his shoulders.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” he said, taking a deep breath to try to stop his hands from shaking as he intertwined them with hers. The combination of the post-race adrenaline and the imminent arrival of their daughter was doing crazy things to his nervous system. “I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m so sorry you spent the day here when you could’ve been comfortable at home.” 

She shook her head at him, her deep breaths the only sound in the space. “No place I’d rather be.” 

He squeezed her hands at that, kissing both cheeks and leaving the lightest kiss on her nose. 

“She’s really coming, huh?” y/n whispered in disbelief, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“She’s really coming,” Lando laughed, not able to believe his luck.

@y/nnorris: our angel on earth. amelia parker hinata norris. 03/16/2024.

@landonorris: my two favorite girls in the world. ☀️ someone knows how to make an entrance (she gets it from her mummy).  ready for #2 whenever you are @y/nnorris 

#i love dad!lando so much it’s a problem #lando norris x reader

[rekiilysm]

。.・✭rekiilysm’s masterlist!✫・゜・

here’s all of my oneshots, headcanons, and series!

if you want to request something, please do! rules are on my navigation/pinned post on my page!

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Katsuki Bakugo:

Period— 0.7k. you have really bad cramps, so your amazing and loving boyfriend does anything he can to make you feel better.

My Mechanic— 5.6k. a silly mechanic falls for a certain security guard, so she decides to change her shift to be the same as his, not knowing that that shift would change their relationship forever.

Random Headcanons— 0.8k. katsuki here is a different kind of boyfriend for sure.

Izuku Midoriya:

Sick— 0.7k. a green haired boy takes care of his sick lover.

Rough Day— 0.5k. you procrastinate A LOT and you’re having a bad day, so mr. pro hero does everything he can to make it a little less rough.

Rody Soul:

Till We Meet Again— 2.7k. you go on a trip to a different country and meet a certain boy who you end up falling for.

Just A Lil Bit Shy— 6.1k. you and your classmates go on a trip to a different country, which leads you to meeting new people and maybe even romance. but there’s one problem: you’re shy as hell.

Denki Kaminari:

Cuddles— 0.9k. you and your boyfriend have both had a rough day, so you decide to relax by being snuggled up together in his room.

Random Headcanons— 0.5k. things that i feel like your short-circuited boyfriend would do in your relationship.

Shoto Todoroki:

Live A Little— 0.3k. your beloved boyfriend doesn’t really know how to have fun, so you teach (force) him how to have a little fun every now and then.

Hitoshi Shinso:

“I’m Here”— 0.9k. you get panicky because you are lost in the woods late at night, but your knight in shinning armor saves the day.

CELEBRITIES

Jake Webber:

Gingerbread Houses— 1.9k. jake wants to make a video with you for the christmas time, and you guys decide to do a gingerbread house competition to see who could make the best-looking gingerbread house.

Harry Styles:

As It Was— 4.3k. it’s hasn’t been the same with you and harry lately; he became distant, leaving you wondering what you did wrong to get to this point. it wasn’t the same as it was.

DC / MARVEL

Jason Todd:

Adore You— 0.9k. you and jason have been together for a few months, and all the bird boy can think about is how perfect and amazing you are.

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington:

Ethereal— (series). Steve Harrington meets a girl, a certain girl who happens to be the biggest freak in Hawkins High. This girl thought the king of the school never knew who she was, but she may or may not have been wrong.

MOVIES

Mark Watney:

Together? Together.— (series). The only two botanists on Ares III get left behind on a desolate planet. They have to work together to reach their goal: getting home…

#steve harrington x reader #lando norris x reader #colby brock x reader #jake webber x reader #mark watney x reader #jason todd x reader #x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoria x reader #denki kaminari x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #harry styles x reader

[rekiilysm]

.・。.・゜✭ hi welcome!・.・✫・゜・

welcome to my blog! i love writing and i hope you guys enjoy it! i’m hayley, bi, a sucker for song fics, and a proud citizen of kurtistown <3

my other account is @petersluvbug !! i don’t post anything but it’s more of a backup

requests are open so please request! i try to get to them when i can but school is a pain in the ass LOL

fandoms/people i WILL write for:

🪐 stranger things, harry styles, mark watney, dc/marvel, lando norris, the summer i turned pretty, teen wolf, the maze runner, jake webber, colby brock, sam golbach

fandoms i will NOT write for:

🪐 even tho i used to, i don’t write for mha anymore bc i’m not in the fandom anymore so please don’t request! <3

rules/taglist:

🪐 i do NOT write smut, i’m not good at writing it and i’m not really comfy with writing it myself.

🪐 please be patient with me, school is kicking me in the butt and i try to write when i can <3

🪐 comment or message me if you would like to be added to a taglist for one of my series! i’ll happily add you :)

that’s it! i love you pookies and here’s my main masterlist of all my oneshots, headcanons, and series! ⇩

.・。.・゜✭・masterlist!・✫・゜・。

#rekiilysm #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #lando norris x reader #colby brock x reader #mark watney x reader #harry styles x reader #peter parker x reader #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty #the martian #stranger things #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #the maze runner #jake webber x reader #sam golbach x reader

[rekiilysm]

Orange Theory

Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)

summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking our their masterlists! warnings: none!

You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.

Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.

“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.

“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”

“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.

“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”

You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.

“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“I just came to give you this.”

Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”

“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”

“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.

“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.

Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.

“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.

“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.

Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”

You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.

“He peels your oranges for you?”

You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”

“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”

“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”

Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.

“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”

“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”

As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.

“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.

As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”

“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”

“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”

“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”

A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.

“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”

“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”

You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”

Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”

“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”

“What else?”

“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”

Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.

“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.

“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.

“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”

Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”

“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”

“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”

“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”

Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.

Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.

Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.

You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.

When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.

You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.

But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.

They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.

You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”

The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.

“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”

“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”

“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.

“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”

You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.

“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”

“Would you kiss me?”

“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”

This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.

“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”

“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.

“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.

You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.

He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.

He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.

His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.

You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.

After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.

Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[rekiilysm]

I KNOW PLACES ✮ LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x gf!reader (secret dating & childhood best friends to lovers) summary: Lando Norris and (Y/N) just started their relationship after years being best friends, but they are afraid that making things public might ruin what they worked so hard to build (based on 'I Know Places' by Taylor Swift) words: 3.8K - warnings: a few swear words and pure fluff! author's notes: Back into the fanfiction world, this time stepping into my newest obsession: F1. I hope you enjoy this new era!

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You stand with your hand on the waistline. It's a scene and we're all here in plain sight. I can hear them whisper as we pass by. It's a bad sign.

(Y/N) didn't know what was happening to her body. Maybe it was the hot weather in Monaco for the race weekend, or the small amount of breakfast she had before leaving the house. But every inch of her being was tingling, and it felt weird being under her skin. Out of all the times she had ever stepped into a Formula One paddock, this was the first one she ever felt like she was about to faint. After all, everyone was onto to find out her little secret.

Lando Norris, her best friend since she was only four, was at the McLaren garage when she arrived with all of his other friends. He was just doing his job; talking to sponsors and being the sunshine boy he has always been, making a good impression on people that needed to be impressed by him. But the conversation between Zac Brown and one of his team’s investors was long forgotten when his eyes spotted (Y/N) in the middle of the crowd.

She was simply walking alongside Max and his girlfriend, Pietra, when their eyes crossed in the paddock. Lando cracked the biggest smile and fixed his eyes on hers for a second, only to get his attention called by Zac again. He was soon dragged into the conversation again, only to be dismissed a few seconds later. Then, he played a whole scene, worthy of a goodman Oscar film.

The wind was blowing on his hair as he paraded towards her in the paddock, his curls moving beautifully with the pace. His hands were resting on his waistline, one of them sneaking under his McLaren shirt. She always thought he looked beautiful in his work attired, but damn it, this time Lando looked flawless in them. He had a soft smile resting on his lips and he could feel the heart beating out of his chest, wanting to jump onto (Y/N) from the second he saw her. Yet, he played it cool for the entire walk towards her. Nobody could know about them.

At that point, it had been three months and a couple of weeks since Lando and (Y/N) had finally got together after years of unconditional love and pinning after the other. They had met at a very early age, when their fathers used to golf at the same field every Saturday morning, and had been best friends ever since. After a while, they just couldn’t deny that their friendship had become something else, after years of her coming to all of his races in karting, F3 and, later on, F1. After all the times he rooted for her in university and had taken care of her when things got too rough. They just couldn’t deny they were in love with each other.

But Lando’s experiences with public relationships hadn’t been exactly… pleasant. So they both agree, after much talk, to keep it a secret from everyone to not ruin anything between them. This was too precious, and delicate, to have the bad energy bring them down right at the beginning of things. And ever since then, they had been so good at doing so. Yet, his fans had caught that something had shifted in the long term friendship. So now, they had to be very, extremely, careful.

“Took you too long”, he commented, shrugging as he stood right in front of (Y/N).

“Max was really enjoying the courtesy breakfast from the hotel”, she smiled at him, looking at his face right through her lashes. Lando just couldn’t help it, thinking she looked too cute, and he wrapped his arms around her, face burying in the crook of her neck.

“I’m glad you’re here”, he kept his voice low, only for her to hear it.

“Always”, she sneaked a kiss on his cheek before he moved onto talking to Max and Pietra.

Lando has showed affection for (Y/N) so many times before, with the hugs and tiny kisses here and there, but everybody knew it was different this time. Maybe it was the long starings or how they’d linger longer on the hugs. Or maybe it was him wanting to be around her every second he could. But the gossip social media pages and the whispers were getting louder. (Y/N) noticed it when they walked towards the McLaren motorhome, one of his hands soft resting in the middle of her back.

“Did you see that?” One girl whispered to her friend as she passed by, but (Y/N) couldn’t listen to the reply. All the whispers were deafening, and she wanted to scream. They weren’t a good sign.

Something happens when everybody finds out. See the vultures circling, dark clouds. Love’s a fragile little flame, it could burn out.

When Lando finally closed the doors to his driver room, (Y/N) felt the weight being lifted from her shoulders. She audibly sighed, and her boyfriend looked at her in worry. For a second, they looked at each other and laughed at their situation. They were damned.

“They are 100% onto us”, (Y/N) whined and Lando agreed with a nod, before pulling his girl for a hug. “Shit, we were doing so great with the hiding. I thought it was really going to last”.

“My fans should be hired as private investigators, I swear to God”, he joked before pulling her face up for a kiss. “Didn’t get a good morning one when I woke up”.

“Well, I can’t help it if you’re an early bird”, she giggled, leaving countless small pecks on his lips again. “I was tired from last night”.

“I finish you off just good, didn’t I?” He cheekily smirked before turning to his closet, pulling the fireproof undergarments he was required to wear before the suit. 

“I didn’t need to know that”, Max commented as he opened the door and quickly was scoffed by Lando.

“Didn’t invite you to the conversation, mate. Get the fuck off my room!” Lando joked, but Max still found his spot on the couch. Pietra came in a few seconds later, settling close to (Y/N) just so they could laugh at the boys.

“We came in to say good luck on the race”, Pietra said, pulling Lando for a quick hug. “We know we’re late and that you need a moment with our girl. But just wanted to wish you the best”.

“She came to wish you the best. I came for the A/C”, Max joked, closing his eyes with the nice temperature of the room. Lando threw a cushion at him, making everyone laugh. Their brotherhood was the best. “But you know, we’ll be rooting for you and shit”.

“I know, mate”, Lando held his hand out to Max, who got up with his friends help. Even though they banter all the time, the boys hugged and smiled with their interaction. Just like (Y/N), Max had been there for Lando for as long as he could remember. 

“We’ll let you alone with your lucky charm”, Max winked at (Y/N), who smiled widely at him.

They had barely closed the door when Lando attacked his girlfriend’s lips once again. (Y/N) was taken by surprise when she got lifted off the floor once again, but quickly melted into the kiss, slowing the speed down just to the soft pace that she liked.

“Easy there”, she said against his lips.

“My lucky charm”, he said back, not stopping the kiss for a single second. “Gonna make me get a podium just by being here. I got pole yesterday just because of you”.

“That’s what I’m talking about”, she smiled, breaking the kiss apart to speed him up. “Come on, you need to get dressed”.

“Wanna see me naked that badly?”, he joked, taking off his shirt to start changing into his race attired.

“I don’t need that. I already saw it last night”, she winked and Lando melted, bursting into laughing.

“I love you because we have the same sense of humour”, he took off his trousers, giving his girlfriend the view he knew she wanted to see.

“Well, but it’s never a bad sight to see”, (Y/N) smiled. Behind closed doors, it was so easy for them to be a couple. Her heart felt safe and it was like no one in the world could harm them. But anxiety always gets the best of her. One moment she was laughing and joking, and the other she was on the verge of hyperventilation.  

Lando noticed it, though. “What’s wrong with you?”, he sat next to her, only wearing his underwear, when he saw the quick change of humour on his girl. From the very first moment he laid her eyes on her in the paddock, he could sense she was off.

“I love you so much, you know?” (Y/N) let a tear fall down for relief, and Lando quickly wiped it off with his thumb. “I don’t want them to ruin what we have”.

“They won’t ruin this, I promise you”, he pressed a long kiss to her cheekbone and she spilled a few more salty tear, they met his lips in seconds. “You’re safe inside my heart”.

“I can just see them ruining this for us, you know? The public”, she admitted. “The whispers and the blurry distanced images on social media. The comments.”

“I told you not to read the comments, baby”, Lando shook his head in disapproval and (Y/N) shrugged. “My love, this thing between us has been here for years. If everybody finds out, I will do everything that I can to protect you and what we have, okay? Don’t worry about it”.

“Okay”, she replied, hugging him once again. “I love you, Lan”.

“I love you too. So much”, he admitted, kissing the crown of her head.

Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.

Before he went on to continue with his pre-race routine, Lando stayed in his room for a while longer, just letting his girlfriend hold him for a little while. He was fucking terrified of the Monaco Grand Prix, specially because the race was very tricky; a driver against track kind of race. So having his girl alongside him calmed his heart. He had pole position. He was going to make it all worth it.

“Remember that I’m always with you”, she kissed him again before they got out of the room.

All Lando wanted to do was hold her hand until he was required to be inside his car, but since their situation was delicate and everyone already thought they were together, he just couldn’t risk it. So he held her hand for as long as he could, but had to let it go by the time they got close to the sea of photographers, all waiting for the pilots. (Y/N) stayed behind, ready to meet Max and Pietra to watch the race from the hospitality. He got one last look at her, who waved at him, giving a shot of confidence to his body. He could do it. And most importantly, he was going to give everything to bring this win to his girl.

Max quickly found (Y/N) lost between the crowd and pulled her to sit with all of Lando’s friends. The race was about to start, and the cars would be out at any second now. And yet, all she could think of was a group of people, sitting right behind her, and whispering while staring at her back. Annoyed, she turned around and squinted her eyes at them, making the group shut up. They were one hundred percent talking about Lando and her; it was visible because of the way they stared at her wrist, with one of his bracelets shinning brightly for the whole world to see. She brought it up to her hand, holding the number 4 charm between her fingers. It would be fine.

“I know why you’re like this for the entire morning”, Max whispered close to her ear. “Don’t worry about people. He loves you so much. Nothing bad is going to happen”.

“Yeah, I know that”, she nodded at him. “I love him so much too”.

(Y/N) let go of the bracelet, only to hold Max’s hands. They had been best friends too for the longest time. So after Lando, he was the one who provided her so much comfort and safety. Pietra did too, so it was nice when she left her post next to her boyfriend to hug (Y/N). 

Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide.

Lando wasn’t a great fan of alcohol, but the taste of champagne on his lips after finishing P2 in Monaco felt so good. A weight taken off his shoulders to have finished on the podium. It wasn’t a win, but it was definitely the best result he had in his mind. “I’m just glad I finished the race”, he thought.

Staring down the podium, he found his girlfriend standing so excitedly for him, jumping up and down with the result. And as if it was possible, his smile widened at the sight and he shook the bottle to splash just enough to reach her downstairs. He was so happy. Genuinely happy, on top of the world, and no one was going to bring him down.

The post race interviews were taking too long for him, who desperately wanted to celebrate with his team, his friends and (Y/N). But when his PR team finally called him back to the garage, he went rushing to see the people he adored the most. He hugged a few people from his team as he arrived, and Max was the first friend he found and shared a long hug. From over his bestie’s shoulders, he spotted (Y/N) standing behind, with proud tears brimming her eyes and a big smile painted on her face. Lando immediately let go off Max and pulled his girlfriend just to hold her for a few seconds.

They could hear the cameras clicking around them and the people calling Lando, but he was in a trance. When (Y/N) was there, it was like the entire world didn’t exist. He was P2 in Monaco; the race that stresses him out so much from the very early moments of his career. And his girlfriend, the person he loved the most in the world since he was a little kid, was there to celebrate it with him. Life couldn’t get any better.

“My boy”, she whispered in his ear, her mouth very well hidden between them so no one could read her lips. “I’m so proud of you. I love you so much”.

“Thank you for being here. I love you more, baby”, his lips were also hidden, and it pained him that he just couldn’t openly say those words to her. “I can’t wait to kiss you, oh my God. I’m going insane”.

“Just a few more minutes”, she held his face between her hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek before giving space for other friends to talk to him.

Zac Brown took the longest time with Lando, giving him the post race pep talk he always needed. And by the end of it, at the rush of the moment, he admitted his new relationship to his boss, who laughed at the admission.

“I knew you were head over heels for this girl”, Zac said, giving Lando a few taps on the shoulder. 

“We’re just keeping it a secret, between the closest friends, so nobody can ruin it”, Lando added to his confession. “But, yeah, (Y/N) is my dream girl and you know me. Can’t keep shit from anyone. I just wanted you to know”.

“Go celebrate it with her! You still have a few hours until we fly to Spain for the next race. Take her somewhere nice”.

“Where? This whole city is crowded with paparazzi and cameras. I just can’t risk it, Zac”.

“I know a place you can take her”.

Lights flash and we’ll run for the fences. Let them say what they want, we won’t hear it. Loose lips sink ships all the damn time. Not this time.

His driver room was getting too small to fit his love for (Y/N), and Lando felt like those four walls would eventually burst from the flames of his heart. He was getting irritated by having to hide it from everyone. But having her holding him and pressing delicate kisses to his face made him feel like everything was going to be just fine.

“I want to go out to celebrate it with you. Properly, as boyfriend and girlfriend”.

“Very funny, Lan”, she crossed her arms and he arched his brows at her attitude. “If you can magically find a public place, we can just be boyfriend and girlfriend without the prying eyes, I’ll gladly let you take me there”.

“Lucky for you, I have the best boss in the world.”

The paddock was absolute mayhem after the race, specially the bridge that connects it to the marina, where all the boats were anchored for the weekend. Lando tried to be subtle with (Y/N), not holding her hand as they walked in public, but after almost losing her among the people and the cameras flashing on his eyes. With much effort, he found her hands and laced them together, just so they wouldn’t get lost.

“Lando, what are you doing? People will see us”.

“Let them say what they want. I don’t fucking care”, he tightened his hold on her hand and dragged her to the marina. There were a lot of parties happening around the docks, with people enjoying their time post race to get drunk with other millionaires, who travelled all the way to Monaco for the luxury of the weekend. (Y/N) was actually very confused with where they were going.

“Why are we here?” She frowned, but he ignored, too busy looking for Zac around the place. His boss was waiting next to the boat, talking to the people who take care of his boat. A smile flashed on Lando’s face when he saw that everything was already arranged perfectly for him.

“Lando! (Y/N)! It’s all nice and ready for you”, Zac smiled at the girl, taking her hand to shake. “I talked to the commander, they are going to take you to a private place and I made sure they had a nice dinner prepped for you two, okay?”

“You’re the best, Zac. Thank you so much”, Lando hugged his boss and then let it go to help his girlfriend get into the boat. “And please delay my flight for another day, boss!”

“I’ll try my best, kid”

Lando and (Y/N) hid inside the boat while it shipped away from the shore. They were served with champagne as they waited for their getaway. Their boat was very tiny compared to the other ones that were anchored for the race weekend, but it was enough for a couple getaway for the night. Zac probably paid the team to keep their mouth shut and, that way, they could enjoy being together outside his flat for once.

“Okay, this is perfect”, she giggled, pressing a kiss to Lando’s collarbone, exposed by his button-up shirt. “God, today was so stressful for me. I’m actually tired”.

“Oh, me too”, he giggled. “I mean, I’m getting tired of all the hiding. Kind of want to go around screaming that I have the best girl in the world as my girlfriend”.

“Lando, we talked about this”. (Y/N) was afraid of the response she would get once they were public. If there’s someone who was going to suffer the consequences, it would be her. She would have to deal with the comments and the bad shit from the internet; not him.

“Loose lips sink ships”, he quoted the words his girlfriend said a few weeks before. “Not this time, okay? I won’t let people do this to you”.

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run. 

Enjoying this night with each other had been a dream come true. The peace, the quietness and the privacy from the ocean was everything they need. Somehow it gave them hopes that, even though it was hard, everything was going to be alright. After having dinner, prepared by the boat’s chef, they decided to enjoy some alone time out on the boat.

Lando took some amazing pictures of (Y/N) on the boat and they had a really fun time doing a small photoshoot. They pushed each other playfully and threw compliments that easily heated up each other’s cheeks. Not to mention the funny faces she did for the camera, making him think he couldn’t love her more. She was it for him.

“I hate being a broken record, but I do think your fans are on the verge of finding out about us”, (Y/N) broke the silence between them, that was filled by soft music they put on for their small photoshoot. “I mean, right now, I can just see their miraculous minds creating theories of why we left holding hands today. Or why did you linger longer while hugging me after the race”.

“Do you trust me?” Lando put his hand out for her and she laced their fingers together, as a silent ‘yes’ for her boyfriend. “You need to stop thinking that going public is an absolute nightmare scenario, alright?”

“I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”, she scrunched her nose and sighed. “I know. It’s just, I don’t know how you deal with the fame. It feels like we’re foxes and they are hunters, trying to catch us all the damn time”.

“Then we’ll keep running from them for as long as we need to”, Lando promised, pulling her closer to hug her.

(Y/N) took a moment to admire her boyfriend’s beauty. Her head resting on his shoulder and fingers trying to touch every inch of the skin of his face. “I’m so lucky to have you, Lan. It makes me feel so stupid that I waited too long to say that I loved you for the first time”.

“Well, I’m the luckiest too”, he said with the most beautiful smile on his face. “Without your endless support, and the love you sent me all day, I wouldn’t have performed so well today. Or any other day in my career. It doesn’t matter if you only get to kiss me now. You’ve been the most amazing person in my life for years now. I’m so glad I have you, (Y/N)”.

“I promise we don’t have to keep this a secrecy for much longer, okay?”, she rubbed circles on his cheekbone and looked between his eyes. 

“We’ll run for as long as you need us to. And when you’re ready, the whole world will know how much I love you. I swear to God, I’ll buy thousands of drones to write a message in the sky just so everyone can know how much I love you”, he joked, making (Y/N). “But while you’re not ready, I know places we can hide”.

Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide. I know places…

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

author's note: I don't have a taglist for F1 yet, so feel free to add yourself for future work! Hope to see you around soon. Come chat with me about the teams, I promise I'm nobody's hater on the grid.

[rekiilysm]

THIS IS SO CUTE IM GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET :((

In From The Rain

Oscar Piastri x plant nerd!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar’s looking for an easy to care for houseplant. You have just the solution. Check out the moodboard here!

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: none

The greenhouse is quiet in the early morning. It’s one of your favorite things. Before the customers come in, looking for flowers for their porch or vegetable plants for their gardens, it’s just you and the plants and the sun streaming in through the glass. So when somebody interrupts your morning solitude, you’re not exactly happy about it.

Sure, you’re technically open, but nobody ever gets here this early. You’re watering plants in your rain boots, a mug of coffee in your hand, when the front door swings open. You turn to look, the noise startling you.

The man who walks in looks sheepish when his eyes meet yours. He ducks under a hanging basket, nearly trips over your garden hose. His cheeks flush red. You’d be more irritated with his presence if he wasn’t being so cute about it.

“Sorry, the- the sign said open,” he says, backing towards the door.

“You’re fine. We are open,” you affirm, flicking off the sprayer before you drown the petunias in front of you. “I was just surprised to see someone in here so early.”

He laughs. It’s a nice sound. Almost as nice a sound as his voice, with an Australian accent. He stops backing away. You should probably point out that he’s standing in a puddle, but you’re not sure if that’s really your place.

“Can I help you find something?” You ask.

He takes a step forward. A thick band of sunlight shines down on the top of his head, like a halo. He brushes his floppy hair from his face.

“No, that’s okay. You’re busy, I’ll just have a look around,” he says.

You nod. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

You turn back to the flower trays in front of you. They’ll need pruning, soon. And some of the hanging baskets are getting a bit unruly- it’ll likely be time to put them on sale in the next few days, to open up space for new plants. You can hear the man walking around behind you, peering at the plants. His footsteps are hesitant, and when you look, he has his hands held behind his back. He leans close to read the signs, brows tightly wound.

He obviously has no idea what he’s looking for.

You put the hose away and set your nearly empty coffee down at your workstation in the back of the greenhouse. Then you make your way back up to the front, where he’s standing near the succulents.

“Sure you don’t want help?” You ask.

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Is it that obvious that I’ve got no idea what I’m doing?”

“A bit,” you say, and he laughs again. “That’s okay, though. It’s what I’m here for. What are you looking for?”

He stands up straight, eyes dancing over the greenhouse. “So. I’ve been told my apartment is boring. A friend suggested a plant to liven up the space.”

You nod. A tale as old as time. He’ll either kill the plant within a week or fill his whole place with them.

“But I’m gone a lot for work,” he says. “Like, a lot. So I need something that won’t wilt the second I’m gone, you know?”

You nod. “Does your apartment get good light?”

He laughs. “I don’t know what good light means.”

“Which direction do your windows face?”

“South,” he says, confidently. “Google said that was good. Right?”

You fight a laugh. He’s a bit adorable. Trying very hard to get it right. Like this is a test with right and wrong answers.

“Yeah, south facing is great.” You gesture towards the succulents. “You could get a succulent. They can go weeks without watering, but they need lots of light.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “I thought these were cactuses. Or cacti?”

“Close,” you tell him, and he smiles again. “Cacti are the ones with the spikes.”

He nods in understanding. He crouches down, then, eye levels with the little plants. Your heart is melting. You scuff one of your rain boots against the ground. You could stand here and watch the way his long eyelashes flutter as he blinks all day, but that would be creepy and you have a job you’re supposed to be doing.

“How do I know which one to get?” He says, quietly. “Like… there are so many different kinds.”

Your face breaks out into a huge grin. He’s so endearing. “I think you’ll know when you see it.”

He appears at the front cash register ten minutes later, a succulent in hand. It’s a little one, the perfect starter plant. He’s eyeing the decorative pots next to you, brows furrowed again.

“Those are too big for that plant,” you tell him, and he breathes out a sigh. “There are smaller ones on the other side of the display.”

He moves to look. You hear him shuffling, hear him pick up pots and then set them down. Then he appears again, a little pot with black and white checkerboard print on it in his other hand.

“Perfect,” you say softly. “Have you got potting soil?”

He clears his throat. “Um. No, but I’ve got a courtyard at my apartment with a garden… but I’m sensing from the look on your face that that won’t do.”

You roll your eyes playfully. Then you reach under the counter and grab one of the small sample bags of potting soil you keep on hand.

“Here. On the house.” You say. “So you can put that plant in the pot.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he says. He sets the other items down on the counter. “Thanks for all your help, actually.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

You bag the items carefully, making sure the plant won’t be squished. You put a care instruction sheet in the bag, too. Then you slide it to him with a smile.

“There’s a care sheet in there that should help. Enjoy your new plant,” you say. “I hope it works out.”

“Me too,” he says.

He leaves, then, and you’re left with your quiet greenhouse once again. It’s odd. Usually you breathe a sigh of relief after a customer leaves. But this time, you almost want him to come back.

…..

Two weeks later, you’re back at your workstation re-potting a sad looking philodendron. You look up from it when you hear the bell over the front door ring. The watering is already done, the hose put away, so there’s nothing for the man to trip over this time. But it is the same guy, and he ducks under the hanging basket the same way. You should maybe move it, but he seems to be the only one who’s had an issue with it. You stand up, wiping the dirt from your hands on your apron.

“You didn’t kill that succulent already, did you?” You call out.

His eyes dart to meet yours, and he laughs. “No! Promise.”

“Good. That would be a new record,” you laugh.

You let him wander the store on his own for a few minutes as you get the philodendron correctly in the new pot. Then you give it some water and take it with you to set it back out on the shelf. He’s still the only other person in the store, and he’s currently eyeing the flats of flowering plants.

“It’s actually going really well,” he says as you walk by. “He has a new leaf.”

That’s when you know the guy is hooked. He has a new leaf. The plant is no longer just a plant to him. Absent-mindedly, you wonder if he’s the type to name his plants. You set the one in your hands down on the table in front of you, your back to him so he doesn’t see your wide grin. When you turn around, you tone it down.

“That’s great,” you say encouragingly. “So I’m guessing you want another one?”

He nods, rubbing his finger over the leaf of a fiddle leaf fig. “Yeah, but I’m thinking something different this time. Something bigger.”

“You don’t want that one,” you say, and he backs away from the fig tree slightly. “Fiddle leafs are notoriously dramatic. If you left her for a week she’d drop all her leaves.”

He sighs and stands up. “What would you suggest?”

You wave him over to another area of the store. He follows eagerly, footsteps splashing in the leftover puddles from the morning watering. You lead him to a section of spiky, tall plants.

“Snake plant,” you say, pointing at them.

He’s standing next to you, and your shoulders just barely brush. A shiver runs down your spine. You try to hide it.

“Snake plant,” he repeats. “The name makes sense.”

“People also call them mother in law’s tongue,” you add. You fight the urge to check his ring finger. “But if you’ve got a mother in law I’d suggest avoiding that name.”

He laughs, and his shoulder bumps into your again. “I don’t. But snake plant sounds cooler.”

You nod in agreement. “They do well with very little water. And, they can do okay in pretty low light, too. So if you’ve got a darker area that needs a plant, it would be a good fit.”

He’s up at the register ten minutes later, plant and a pot in hand. This one is plain terracotta. You like that he’s the type of person to buy the pots, too. Some people just leave them in the boring plastic, and it makes you sad to think about. All plants deserve a nice home. You say that to him as you ring him up, and he laughs. He’s also grabbed a small bag of potting soil this time.

Your repeat the process, same as last time, and hand him the bag. He takes it, and then he hesitates.

“Thanks again,” he says, juggling the bag until it’s held in one arm. He sticks his hand out to you. “I’m Oscar, by the way.”

You tell him your name, though you’re sure he could read it off your nametag, too. When you shake his hand, you swear the warmth of it runs all the way up your arm. He thanks you again, and then he disappears out the door once again. That ache is back in your chest. You find yourself hoping he’ll be back soon.

…..

He does come back. Multiple times. He buys more succulents on one trip, asking you to help him choose between them, and then he ends up buying all three instead. Another morning he comes in and you show him a ZZ plant you’ve just gotten in that you think will be perfect for him- you don’t tell him you’ve been saving it for him at your work station. It’s just… you know it’ll look great next to the snake plant he bought.

Each time he comes to the store, he hangs around a little longer. You chat about the weather, about the plants in the store, about his plants at home. You tell him funny stories about other customers and complain to him about the rude ones. In return, he tells you about his coworkers, specifically one named Lando who he seems to get into a lot of mischief with. He hasn’t said what he does for work. You field weird about asking, so you don’t.

The 4th time he stops by, you suggest a pothos. He eyed the leaves and vines skeptically.

“The other ones looked tough, you know? Like they’d survive even if I fucked up.” He tugs at one of the vines. “Are you sure about this one?”

You nod encouragingly. “You can handle it. I promise. Plus, the cool thing about these is you can cut parts of the vines, like this,” you say, holding up one you’d taken from the workstation. “And then you stick it in water for a bit, it grows roots, and you’ve got a whole new plant.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s cool.”

“I know,” you laugh.

He joins you up at the front to buy the plant. You go through the same routine. This time, he’s picked out a pretty blue ceramic pot for it. It compliments the leaves well. Then he leans on the counter and the two of you start chatting. You’d had a shipment that came in last week with a bunch of dead plants, so you regale him with the story of trying to deal with the company’s customer service. In turn, he tells you a story about his family back home- one of his sisters had a dance recital, his mother tried to videotape it for him, he received a video of his mother’s face as she watched the recital. You don’t realize how long the two of you have been talking until Jane, the next person on the schedule, walks in.

You stand up straight, face growing hot suddenly. “Hi, Jane!”

“Hi, hun,” she says, walking past the two of you. “Sorry I’m late. Bet you’re dying for your lunch break.”

She’s late? You and Oscar must’ve been talking for… forever. It had felt like only minutes. He smiles sheepishly and pushes away from the counter.

“Well, I should be going,” he says, taking the bag in his arms. “Thanks again!”

You watch him walk out the front door, unsure why it feels like you’ve been caught. It reminds you of the feeling you’d gotten years ago, when your teacher found you and the boy you had a crush on in the hallway alone. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but it still makes you feel strange.

“Friend of yours?” Jane asks when you walk past her to take your break.

You blink, shrugging. “I think he might be.”

…..

Oscar always comes in on Tuesdays. You avoid taking Tuesdays off and won’t admit to yourself that he’s the reason why. But when you wake up with a raging fever and a pounding head, you know you have to call in. Jane, always a sweetheart, takes your shift. When you see her two days later, it’s after you’ve already done the opening shift.

“Did you see your plant?” She asks as she breezes through the greenhouse.

You shut off the hose you’d been using to water a particularly thirsty chrysanthemum. “What plant?”

“The one your friend brought,” she says, and you only feel more confused. “He dropped it off Tuesday, said he was looking for you. It’s on the desk.”

You walk over to the workstation. Sure enough, in a tiny plastic pot- likely one from one of the succulents he’d bought-there’s a small pothos vine growing. You pick up the little plant, knocking over the piece of paper propped up on it in the process. You reach for it, finding a note written in rushed, messy scrawl.

I know you’ve probably got tons, but it felt right that you would have my very first propagation. Learned that word from the internet. Feel better soon! -Oscar

You turn to look at Jane. She’s at the register, not paying you any attention. You cradle the tiny plant close to your chest and do the same with the note. Then you tuck the paper away for safekeeping.

The plant, however, you carry with you all day. You place it in a sunbeam at the front register. When it catches your eye every so often, you feel a warmth in your chest.

…..

The next time Oscar comes in, he eyes the little plant at the register. You’ve stuck a little stake in it and tied a bow on top. He smiles softly and turns back to the display of pots. He chooses a tiny one with checkerboard print, the same as his very first purchase. You ring him up for all his items, but when you go to put that one in the bag, he grabs it and shakes his head. He slides it towards your tiny vine.

“For your plant,” he says, smiling softly.

You break into a face splitting grin. “You’re too sweet.”

His fingers brush against yours when you take it from him. You swear you feel sparks. You wonder if the red cheeks he sports as he leaves the store means he felt it, too.

…..

Another man comes into the shop early in the morning. It’s a Wednesday this time. You know it won’t be Oscar because of that, but you still look up eagerly. The guy nods, waving politely. You smile and go back to your watering. He walks the aisles, looking at the plants and never picking them up.

“Excuse me?” He says, after you’ve put the hose away. You turn, trying to hide your surprise at his American accent. “Um. Could you tell me where the succulents are?”

You grin and nod, walking over towards the area. You point them out.

“These right here,” you say. “Anything I can help you with?”

He stares at the tiny plants. “I have no idea what I’m doing. My friend, he’s gotten really into plants, and he talks about this shop all the time. Figured I’d see what the hype was all about.”

You tilt your head. He’s probably not, but it almost sounds like he’s talking about Oscar. You try and shake the idea from your head. Oscar is just a customer, he’s not going around and telling his friends about the greenhouse he goes to. He’s definitely not telling them about you.

“Succulents are a good place to start,” you say.

He sighs. “I don’t have much of a green thumb. I don’t think I’ll be very good at this.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.” You say with a shrug. “You might surprise yourself.”

He ends up picking out a little succulent. He doesn’t go for a decorative pot. He seems wholly unconfident in his ability to keep it alive for more than a few days. Still, he smiles as he’s leaving. He pauses in the doorway.

“You know, I thought Oscar was exaggerating when he told me about you,” he says. “But I get it now.”

He’s out the door before you can even form a syllable, let alone a word or a sentence. You think about chasing after him and asking what the hell that even means, but you stay rooted there. Oscar talks about you. To his friends. You swear your heartbeat doesn’t slow all morning, and the heat in your cheeks stays there all day.

…..

Oscar comes rushing into the shop the next Tuesday. He has a brown paper bag in his arms, and his eyes are wide. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. You stand up, setting the garden hose down. He nearly slips on a puddle as he rushes over to you, and you reach out to steady him.

“I just got home last night,” he rushes, “and something’s wrong with- with Greg.”

“Greg?” You ask, leaning to peer into the bag.

“My succulent,” he says. His cheeks have gone red. “I name my plants. Is that weird?”

You laugh. “No, it’s not.”

You don’t tell him you’ve named your tiny pothos vine after him. You take the bag from his arms and walk to the back of the store, towards the work station. You reach in and pull out the succulent. It’s a little withered, a bit droopy. It’s also doubled in size since he bought it.

“I’ve been watering him when the soil gets dry,” he says, “and he’s still getting sunlight. I’ve tried everything- I left music playing for them when I left, so-“

Your eyes flicker up to him. He plays music for his plants. He’s the cutest man you’ve ever met. You want to take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. Or his lips. He has these cute little freckles and moles- you’d like to draw constellations between them. Your face feels hot again. You direct your attention back to the plant as he rambles on. You frown, tugging slightly to see the roots.

“Osc, babe,” you interrupt, and he stops and stares at you. “He’s just a little root bound.”

You don’t dwell on the fact that you’ve just called him babe. It’s too late now.

“What’s that mean?” He asks, the panicky tone still in his voice.

“It means,” you start, nudging his side softly with your elbow, “that you’ve taken such good care of him that he’s outgrown this pot. He needs more soil. More room to spread out.”

His shoulders drop. The panic melts off his face. “Oh.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t believe when you came in here the first time you had no idea what a succulent even was. And now here you are, all panicked over a little wilting. You’ve become a true plant nerd, haven’t you?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“It’s cute,” you tell him, just to watch the blush creep up on his cheeks again. “Come on, let’s get him a new pot and some fresh soil.”

You lead him up to the front. He starts to pick through the display, holding the succulent up to the different options until he finds the right one. It’s a light orange.

You nod in approval. “Now you’ve got an empty pot,” you say, pointing at the original pot for the succulent. “Which means if you want, you have an excuse to buy another plant.”

“You’re so smart,” he says, eyes wide.

He rushes over to the display of succulents. While he’s picking one out, you carefully re-pot the plant into its new home. He takes his time, like always, indecisive to the very end. When he makes it up to the counter, he grins widely at the sight of the plant in its new pot.

“Thanks,” he says, softly. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

…..

When Oscar comes into the shop on a particularly rainy Tuesday, you’re trying hastily to hide your tears. He doesn’t come in every week, but it’s just your luck that he’s here today of all days. You wave and turn your back to him, sticking to the workstation. You hear the soft fall of his tennis shoes, though, even over the sound of the rain against the greenhouse roof, and you know he’s making his way towards you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, voice low.

You turn and find him with his hands in his jeans pockets. You wipe at your cheeks hastily, hoping he can’t tell how upset you are, but knowing you look a wreck. Your hair is soaked in rainwater, and your eyes likely red rimmed and puffy. It’s confirmed when his soft smile drops into a frown.

“I’ve had a shit morning,” you tell him with a sigh.

He pulls one hand from his pocket. “You, uh. You have dirt on your cheek.”

You groan and try to brush it away. Oscar chews on his lower lip. Then he reaches out, his fingertips sweeping against the skin of your face. His hand is warm, despite the chill in the air. Tiny sparks seem to spread across your skin, following the trail of his touch. Your face grows hot.

“There,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

He nods. “What’s going on? If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to, but…”

You sigh and turn away slightly, back to the plant in the pot in front of you. His gaze is so warm that you can’t stand to look at him, afraid you might start crying all over again.

“Just. Woke up late, so I was in a rush. And then I locked my car key in the car because I forgot something in the flat, and my mum has the spare key and she’s not even awake yet, so I had to walk here in the rain. And I couldn’t find my umbrella.” You brush a wet piece of hair away from your forehead. “And I slept like shit, and haven’t had any caffeine because I was late. So, yeah.”

“Shit morning,” Oscar agrees.

You nod. You finally turn to look at him again. There’s a soft look on his face, one you can’t quite place. He reaches out, places his hand flat on the counter next to yours. If you shifted your thumb just slightly, you could touch his. You want to, but you don’t.

“Sorry, I- Can I help you find anything?” You ask, blinking at him.

“You don’t need to be sorry, I asked,” he says. He rocks back on his heels and pulls his hand back. “I actually just remembered, I’m- I have to- I’ll be right back.”

He turns around and walks quickly to the front of the store. The bell dings as he walks out through the front door. You stare at the spot where his hand had been for just a moment and feel your heart shatter in your chest. You’d gone and over shared with your favorite customer, the one you thought might actually be your friend, and now you’ve scared him off. Yet another tally to add to the shit morning. You collapse into the chair behind the counter and rest your head in your hands, trying to will the tears away.

You’re not sure how long goes by before you hear the bell over the door again. And really, nobody comes in this early, so why are they choosing today of all days? You hastily wipe your face on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and stand up, plastering a smile onto your lips to greet whoever is in the store.

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s… Oscar. He’s walking towards you, though he’s not looking at you. He has three takeout coffee cups balanced precariously in his hands. His hair matches yours now, soaking wet and hanging over his forehead. You burst into laughter as he sets them down.

“Oh my god, I thought I scared you off,” you say, brushing a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“No,” he says, eyes wide. “You said you needed caffeine. There’s a coffee shop just down the road.”

You laugh and press your hands to the counter, leaning towards the cups. “Three cups?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I got you coffee, but I didn’t know if you wanted cream or sugar. So,” he points at the smallest of the three cups, “this is cream,” he says while digging in his pockets. Then he places an assortment of sugar packets on the counter. “And here’s sugar. The other cup is mine.”

You grin at him, shaking your head. “I knew you were my favorite customer for a reason.”

The smile he gives you in return is bright enough to make up for the lack of sun, to wash away the rain clouds, to warm your cold hands. You open the lid to the coffee and pour a bit of cream in, and then add two sugars. Oscar watches, nodding.

“I’ll know for next time,” he says.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Next time. You like the sound of that. You wrap your hands around the paper cup and let the warmth deep into your fingers before you take a sip. You sigh happily, meeting his eyes over the lid. The cup in his hand has something written on it in messy pen. You wonder if the barista tried to give him their number, and you fight back the jealous feeling at the thought.

“Thank you,” you say, softly.

“It’s no biggie,” he insists. “I owed you anyway, for saving Greg.”

He hangs out for a while that morning, leaning on your counter and chatting. You re-pot some plants and then bring them out to the displays, and he follows along. There’s something about his presence alone that warms you up from the inside out. By the time he looks at his watch and curses, muttering about having a meeting, you’re feeling much better. His hand brushes your shoulder before he leaves. You call after him to thank him again for the coffee.

He stops in the doorway, rain falling on his arm that’s extended to hold the door open. “I’ll see you soon!”

Then he disappears into the storm.

…..

You don’t see him soon. It’s not abnormal for Oscar to go a couple weeks without stopping in, so at first you don’t think much of it. Each Tuesday, though, you look up eagerly when the bell over the door rings, and your heart sinks when it’s not him. Maybe you really did over share, maybe he did get scared off. You try not to think about it.

It’s just… he was cute, and kind, and fun to talk to. He brought you coffee. You wonder how his plants are doing, if he’s still playing music for them while he’s gone. You have fleeting images in your brain of him watering the plants, taking the time to look for new leaves and check the roots. You almost wish he’d have another plant emergency, just to give him a reason to stop back in.

Eventually, after a month goes by and he hasn’t been back, you give up almost entirely. You’ll move on eventually, find a new favorite customer. You couldn’t have expected him to keep coming around forever, after all. To him, you were just another retail worker.

You do end up seeing his American friend one more time. He comes in on a Wednesday morning, just like before. He doesn’t stop and look at any of the plants, instead beelining for you. You’re working on bagging some potting soil and watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” you say. “Can I help you find something?”

“No, I just-“ he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I super killed that succulent.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re Oscar’s friend, right? He didn’t help you?”

The guy shakes his head. “He made fun of me, though. Said I overwatered it.”

“How is he, anyways?” You ask.

Logan frowns. “He’s good.”

You nod. “Well, d’you want to try again?”

“No, that’s not why I-“ he sighs, rubbing his temples. “He won’t shut up about you, you know.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Find that hard to believe, since he hasn’t been here for almost a month.”

Which is maybe a little mean spirited. And probably not something you should be saying to his friend. You wince.

Now it’s his turn to blink wildly. “So you miss him too?”

You squint at him. “Why are we having this conversation? I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Logan,” he says. “You haven’t like… reached out to him or anything?”

“How would I?” You ask. “I don’t even know his last name, let alone his phone number.”

“His last name’s Piastri.”

“That feels like information you shouldn’t be giving away to strangers.”

He’s not listening, though. Something seems to have clicked in his head. His eyes go wide and he starts to back away.

“I have to go,” he says. “Thanks!”

You’ve had a lot of strange interactions while working retail, but that one comes in pretty high on the list. And it leaves you wondering about Oscar, which is something you’re trying desperately not to do. All in all, not a great day.

…..

Two weeks later, you clock out of your Tuesday shift around lunchtime and head down the street. It’s raining again, but at least this time you’re armed with a raincoat and an umbrella. Your car is parked nearby, but you’re in the mood for coffee and warm food, so you head to the cafe nearby. You try not to think about the time Oscar had brought you d coffee from there. You can’t help picturing his soft smile, eyes trained on the cups balanced precariously in his hands.

You make it halfway to the cafe before a gust of wind hits your umbrella at just the right angle and snaps the metal supports. Then, as if the universe is playing a cruel trick on you, a car speeds by on the road next to you, hits a puddle, and sprays you with muddy water. It soaks through your clothes and onto your skin nearly immediately. You fight the urge to ball your hands into fists and yell dramatically at the sky.

“Shit,” someone says, and the sound of his voice makes your breath catch in your chest. Then he says your name.

You turn, coming face to face with Oscar. Well. Okay. He’s studying you with a pained look on his face and standing under an umbrella.

“Yeah, shit,” you mutter, shaking water from your hands. “Oh my God. Hi, by the way. It’s been a bit.”

“It has,” he agrees, shuffling closer to hold the umbrella over you. “Here. Um. You okay?”

You shrug. “S’just water. I won’t melt.”

Oscar laughs- god, you’ve missed that sound- and nudges your shoulder. “You’ve got bad luck with rainstorms, huh?”

You nod. You’re trying not to freak out at the fact that he’s here. Oscar is standing next to you, holding his umbrella over your head. He’s here and he’s talking to you and he’s feeling sympathetic, which maybe means he doesn’t think you’re completely crazy.

“S’what I get for trying to go get coffee,” you say over the sound of raindrops on the umbrella. “And lunch. Now I’ve got to drive home like this.”

Oscar frowns, his whole face crumpling with it. “Hey, you know… I live just a block down. If you want, you could come and change into some dry clothes.”

Your mother would kill you for even considering it. You can practically hear her yelling in your head. But god, it’s Oscar. It’s Oscar and you haven’t seen him in a month and you might never see him again. There’s something about the soft look on his face that makes you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, quietly. “That would be… really nice. But only if you’re sure.”

“Of course,” he says.

Your shoulders brush as you walk, the umbrella over both of your heads. The two of you are nearly silent on the walk there. It’s like neither of you quite know what to say. You know you don’t. You worry he’s regretting inviting you to his place. But he lets you in the front door, leads you to the elevator, and all the way up to flat. When he opens the door, warm air pours over you like a river. You step in and toe off your boots, wincing at the squish of your wet socks.

Oscar winces, too. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” he says, pointing at a partially open door. “I’ll go grab you some dry clothes. There’s towels in there too.”

You nod and step into the room. So far, the little bit of his apartment that you’ve seen matches up with what he’s told you. There are no shoes sitting out in the entryway. The bathroom is nearly spotless, which makes you feel a bit guilty about the dirty rainwater you’re dripping onto the floor. Oscar’s only gone long enough for you to take off your jacket.

He knocks on the door. “I’ve got clothes for you.”

You open the door, and he’s standing there, eyes squeezed shut. The clothes are held out in midair, like he’s trying to keep his distance. You laugh and take them, murmuring out a thanks. As you go to change, you hear him walk away.

You shuck your wet clothes off and drop them in the tub, shivering when the air hits your bare skin. You wipe the rainwater from your skin. Then you pull on the clothes he gave you- a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants. Plus a pair of thick, warm looking socks. All of them are baggy on you, but luckily the pants have a drawstring so you can pull them tight around your hips. You wring the water out of your hair with the towel and then wrap it around your shoulders before you step out into the hallway.

You can hear him moving around in the next room, so you head there. He’s standing at the kitchen island, which is open to the living room. He looks up when he hears you walk in, and a soft smile spreads across his face. His living room is neat and tidy, too. His plants are all lined up on the windowsill. You recognize them all from your store, and you smile.

“D’you have a plastic bag I can put my clothes in?” You ask, and he tilts his head at you. “I don’t wanna get more rainwater on your floor. Or in my car, really.”

“I mean, sure,” he says with a shrug. “Or… you could throw them in the washer. Hang out for a bit.”

He’s not looking at you anymore. You’re glad, because you’re sure you have a dumbfounded look on your face. It’s then that you notice the coffee machine running on the counter behind him, and the snacks out on the counter. Your mind is racing. He hasn’t stopped by the shop in nearly a month, but now…

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you say, unsure what else there is to possibly say.

He shakes his head, still not looking up. “You’re not.”

You cast your eyes to the window. It’s raining harder now. And god, you’ve missed him. You didn’t realize just how much until you were standing here.

“It’s been a while,” he says, turning his back to you when the coffee maker beeps. “We have some catching up to do.”

You think about letting it go. Maybe it’s enough to be here. Maybe you just shouldn’t bring it up. But really, you’re confused about the fact that he stopped coming to the store.

You tilt your head at him. “Yeah, you stopped coming in.”

“Well, you never texted me,” he says. “So I figured I’d freaked you out or something. But then Logan said he stopped by and you asked about me-“

You stare at the back of his head, bewildered, and you break in. “Oscar, I don’t have your number.”

He freezes, hand in midair, reaching for a coffee mug. He turns his head over his shoulder, and his eyes meet your again. He looks just as confused as you feel. Suddenly, your heart is racing in your chest.

“I wrote it on the coffee cup,” he says, voice quiet.

You stare at him, wide eyed. “There was nothing on my coffee cup.” He shakes his head, opens his mouth, but you keep talking. “I’m sure of it. But there was writing on yours. I know because I wondered if the barista was trying to give you her number.”

Oscar just stares at you for a moment, his lips barely parted. “Shit. I gave you the wrong cup.”

Shit, you repeat in your head. He tried to give you his number. He thought he gave you his number, and then you never texted him. He thought you rejected him. No wonder he stopped coming in.

“You could’ve just asked me for my number, you know,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but this was cuter,” he says. “It was- it was my number and this cheesy ass pickup line that Logan helped me think of and I- I really thought you just didn’t…”

“Pickup line?”

“Looking back it sounds stupid,” he admits. “But yeah. I was trying to ask you out on a date. And so when you didn’t text me…”

You cross the room, walking right up in front of him. His hands have fallen to his sides. His eyes trace your face as you smile up at him. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, brows slightly furrowed. You can smell the coffee now- it reminds you of when he brought you the coffee weeks ago.

“You should ask me now,” you tell him, smiling brightly.

He nods. “Without the pickup line, though.”

You pout up at him. He grins. One of his hands comes up to the side of your face, fingers cupping your jaw. His thumb prods at your cheek.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asks, voice low.

You pretend to think about it. Pretend it doesn’t make your heart melt just to hear him say it. “Hm. When?”

He shrugs, looks around. “How about now?”

“It’s raining,” you remind him.

“We can have a stay at home date,” he suggests. “Coffee, lunch, a movie, maybe.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” He says, sounding a bit like he doesn’t quite believe you.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since the day we met.”

Oscar laughs and leans closer. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for, then.”

He presses his lips to yours, and your eyes slip closed. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him close. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear- it’s still wet from the rain, and both of you giggle into the kiss. His hands drop to your hips, shoving the sweatshirt out of the way to hold onto you. You could kiss him for hours, you think. It’s all you’ve wanted for months now.

The coffee is growing cold on the counter. Suddenly, though, you don’t need caffeine.

He pulls away slightly, looks you up and down. “You look cute in my clothes, you know.”

You giggle and tug on the sweatshirt, pointing at the orange logo on the chest. “Thanks. Big McLaren guy, are you?”

Oscar laughs and brushes his lips against your temple. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Then he goes back to kissing you. You’re not complaining. You’ve got all the time in the world to learn all about him.

…..

Weeks later, you corner Logan at the British Grand Prix. Oscar’s distracted by interviews, but Logan’s not busy.

“What was the pickup line he wrote?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

Surprisingly, he needs very little convincing. He just laughs, eyes darting to where Oscar stands behind you in the media pen. His gaze is full of amusement.

“I be-leaf we’re meant to be,” he says in a teasing tone. “He was down bad.”

You laugh and turn over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend. He’s grinning watching the two of you talk. Later, you tease him for the cheesy line, for hiding behind coffee cups and scribbled pen when he could’ve just told you. He teases you for the same, for not telling him how you felt, for not making a move. And then you look at him, knowing your gaze is terribly soft.

“I believe it, too,” you tell him.

When he kisses you, you draw constellations between the freckles on his face with your thumb. Outside, it starts to rain.

a/n: can you tell I am a big plant nerd? anyways live laugh love oscar piastri I want to help him pick out plants :)

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me

[rekiilysm]

i cried like three times this was beautiful 😭

Across Every Universe

Well, this got away from me and then BAM - over 9k words. Uh, I will also be willing to pay for therapy if needed, oopsies. Anyway, please enjoy! I cried multiple times while writing this. All of my favorite things in life are rolled into this one fic.

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! love you all <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 14 SPOTS LEFT (please send me a direct message to be added)

Earth 199999 

“Mr. Verstappen?” 

Max look up from the suit that he was currently working on. His eyes were blocked by his newest technological glasses that kept information in his fingertips. 

He wanted to roll his eyes. This new assistant really didn’t get the memo of Do Not Disturb. Man, did he wish Kelly were still here. Yet, there was that unspoken rule of not dating your boss, so Max was happier with her being his girlfriend rather than assistant. 

“Yes?” he muttered back, looking back down at the prototype reactor that should be 15% more powerful than the one he has now. 

“Mr. Leclerc is here to see you.” 

Max sighed as he threw the screwdriver down. “I told Charles that I was to not be disturbed.” 

The assistant shrank back but continued on, much to his annoyance. “He said it was urgent. Something about Case 89?” 

That got Max’s attention right away. He abruptly stood up, knocking down a few things on his desk as he rushed past his assistant. 

“Cancel the rest of my meetings today.” 

“But sir, you have a call with the president and a public appearance…” 

Max twirled around. “I said, cancel everything.” 

A large gulp sounded as he stared down at the incompetent helper. Maybe he could convince Kelly to come back. 

“Yes sir.”

With that, Max stalked down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. He checked his watch, making sure the technology was there. Specifically, the watch could change into a powered glove if he needed it. And he sure hoped he wouldn’t. The elevator sounded when he finally reached the floor. 

He was barely out of the small box when three pairs of eyes were on him. 

“Took you long enough,” a Monegasque accent sounded. 

With a roll of his eyes, Max rebutted, “My assistant doesn’t get the meaning of my orders.” 

A squawk of a laugh came from the corner. 

“You think that’s funny Lando?” Max quipped as he turned to his right. 

A curly hair Brit sat on a table, feet put together like he was stretching his inner thighs. 

“Everything is funny Max when you don’t have a stick up your ass,” Lando responded as he slid off the table. 

“This is not the time for laughs and games gentlemen,” another British accent sounded. 

Charles finally spoke again. “I apologize Director Horner.” He shot a stare at Lando. “It won’t happen again.” 

While this was happening, Max had taken a step to his computer. His fingers danced over the keyboard and brought up surveillance footage from downstairs. His eyes flickered up to look at his two “companions” and, well, his boss per say. 

The Monegasque was in his “get up” as Max called it. The multiple layers of ancient looking clothes disguised his figure. His red cape floated behind him and a green jewel seemed to glow behind its eye-like holder around his neck. 

Lando was dressed a skin tight red and blue suit. A web-like pattern covered its entirety and a spider lay resting on his chest. The face piece was tossed on the couch behind the table where he previously sat. His fingers twitched and flexed with lack of motion. 

Director Horner was draped in his regular black trench coat. Black shoes, black shirt, and black pants accompanied the fashion piece. His hair was kept and gelled. The most distinct item was a black eye-patch that covered his right eye. No one knew how he got it, but the three claw marks that started at his eyebrow gave Max a few hints. There was that old encrypted file that mentioned something about a flerken.

“So what are we working with?” Max questioned as the correct surveillance footage came up. On the screen was a clear box, with what looked like a person sitting in the farthest corner. Long hair covered their face as it was tucked into their knees. 

Charles did a motion with his arms. Golden strands danced around and flickered before they disappeared. Horner sighed and rubbed his brows as Charles let out a nervous chuckle. 

Lando rolled his eyes before clicking something on his wrist. A pull up hologram flashed from his specialized watch. 

There was a picture of a young girl and a list of lettering to the left of it. 

Max crossed his arms, eyes hard and cold. Charles let out a little gasp as he quickly gazed the list. 

Horner kept quiet. 

Lando began to read off of the floating screen. “Her name is Y/n L/n. Twenty-two years old. An orphan. Lived in Brooklyn all her life.” 

Max waved his hand in frustration. “We know this. I want to know why she flagged our radars and is currently in the most powerful containment cell we own.” 

If he had a desk with papers all over in front of him, the papers would be on the floor in one clean swipe. 

Lando sucked in a breath. “She killed 12 people in a freak accident.” 

A video started to play. 

The girl was surrounded by mass destruction. Smoke and fire filled the air. Bodies littered the floor. Yet, Max’s attention was on the black tendrils coming out of her back. They were a fluid type, moving around through the air like a fish in water. The girl seemed distressed as her hands were trying to stop the things coming out of her back. 

The tendrils suddenly stopped and disappeared back from where they came from her back. The girl stopped, looked around, and looked right at the security cameras. A moment later, one large black tendril flew from her hand and cut the video. 

Lando sighed when he put the hologram down. “She was found two days later, unconscious. The tendrils came out when the police found her. They seemed like they were trying to protect her. That’s when they called in Charles and I.” 

“They were difficult to deal with, but seemed responsive to another protection spell that I was able to use to transport her,” Charles concluded. 

Director Horner questioned, “Why was Norris called as well?” 

Lando decided to answer for himself, “Well it is my jurisdiction and I’ve dealt with something like this before. Remember Eddie Brock. This symbiote seems to be of familiar decent.” 

While the three others kept talk, Max continued to watch the scared girl. At this point a tendril had appeared and was almost trying to comfort you. 

“I’m going to go talk to her.” 

That shut the three up. 

Charles looked at him with a weird gaze. “You don’t know what she can do.” 

Max pointed at the screen. 

“She’s a little girl who is probably scared to death of who we are and what we might do to her. She’s probably thinking that she’s going to die in the next few days.” 

“I’ll go with. I’ve seen this before. I lost my friend because of this thing. I won’t let it take another life,” Lando confessed. A hard look on his face. 

“Then it’s settled. Lando lets go.” Max turned to leave, Lando hot on his tail. Charles and Director Horner stayed behind and continued to look at the file. 

The elevator took Max and Lando down to the locked floor. Max clicked a few buttons on his watch and used his fingers to wrap the glove around it. The whir of the machine sounded as it warmed up. 

“I will give a signal if I think the subject will engage. I need you up in the sky.” Max stepped out of the metal box. 

Lando nodded. “On it.” 

When the two got to the door, Max swiped a card. The door opened and Lando started to climb the walls. Once at a significant height, Lando stopped and hung on with one foot and one hand. His other hand was ready to shoot a web to swing in. 

Max slowly walked over. 

In the time that Max and Lando had taken to get down there, the tendril had disappeared. But to Max’s surprise, the girl was looking right at him. Without any fear, Max opened the door, stepped over, closed it, and sat down on the opposite side of her. 

“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, visibly shaking. 

Max was taken back. 

“Excuse me?” 

You looked him dead in the eyes. 

“When do you plan to kill me?” 

Max looked with sad eyes. What had you gone through for that to be the first question to run through your mind? He shook his head. 

“I’m not going to kill you. No one is going to kill you. We have an offer for you actually.” 

It was now time for you to look confused. 

“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more.” 

You inhaled. “To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight battles that we could never.” 

Max smirked. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’ve heard the speech on the news.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” 

“Welcome to the team kid.” 

From a small window above, the sunset cast a small sliver of orange light into the room. It illuminated the small space between you and Max, almost acting as a bridge from the past to the new present. 

Earth 2113 

A grunt left Max’s lips as he threw another knife at the tree. He had been in this cove for a few hours. The stream provided him with much needed fresh water. He was able to take a mock shower, but it only reminded him of the sweet lake that he had back home. 

Home. 

It felt like a foreign concept. 

Weeks had passed since he had last been there. It was supposed to be his last year until he aged out. But really, the odds were never in his favor. 

His name was in there 68 times. 

Year before, his name had been in there even more times. Not once was his name chosen. But, this year it had been. 

How he wished to return back to his own trees, and use an ax instead of the knife he was currently twirling. 

A snap of a branch had him shoot up, knife raised ready to throw. His eyes darted around his utopia that might soon become bathed in blood. 

As he turned to his right, his eyes met big round ones. 

Your small frame was frozen in fear. The rushing sound of water had mocked you long enough. You were so thirsty. 

Max watched as you glanced at the river and then back to him. His tense shoulders relaxed once he realized what you were here for. 

He slowly brought the knife down, as to not scare you. 

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

You did not seem convinced, but you seemed less scared. 

“Go on.” 

That seemed to do the trick as you darted over and started to fill a water bottle first. 

Smart, Max thought. 

He had seen you a couple times during training. The twelve year old from District 11. Small, witty, scared. Your eyes always seemed to be filled with tears during training. However, you seemed determined for someone who probably knew that they wouldn’t win the games. 

“Thank you,” you whispered after you had gotten your fill of the water. In your outstretched hand was an apple. “Got it from the big pile.” 

Max stared at it. His stomach said yes, but his head said no. The rational side said it probably wasn’t poisoned, but the back of his mind tried to convince him that it was. 

“I have another one. I can eat it first?” 

Max nodded at the offer and you took a bite. He waited for a few minutes, waiting for you to keel over. Except it never happened. You ate the entire apple happily. Max liked to wonder if you might have enjoyed an apple in school before all this. Maybe your hair would be put in two pigtails, done by your mother with a kiss on the forehead. 

He finally took the apple and his stomach and brain were both happy. 

This seemed to be their little thing that happened in the next few days. 

Max would wait by the river just before the sun started to set. And you would somehow show up with two shiny apples. 

He thinks at this point they might be from sponsors. He had one main sponsor, a man named Christian, who kept supplying him with different small knives and a few things here and there. The two of you would fill your water bottles and eat the apples. 

He had gotten you to giggle a couple of times, which lifted his spirits. You taught him which plants were edible, and he taught you how to properly throw a knife. He had given you one of his for safe keeping. But he really hoped that you’d use it if you the time came. Blood on your hands would kill his soul. Yet, he’d rather keep you alive then have you die. 

One night, you had fallen asleep on his chest while the two of you watched the late night slide show of who died that day. 

Apparently, there were four left including you and him. Your small puffs of air hit his face as he finally closed his eyes. He thought it was funny how you fit perfectly in his arms. His mind wandered to his girl back home in District 8. He wondered if he’d ever have a kid like you that would fit between him and her. 

The sound of a boom woke Max up. His arms curled protectively around air. When he noticed, he shot up. Taking no time, he grabbed his bag and knife that was attached to a long stick.  

“Kid?” he yelled out, voice straining. 

“Kid?” Another shout as he ran. 

“Kid?” Shouting, Max jumped over tree stumps and through brush. 

He stopped. 

“Kid?”

A whisper.

You stood with your back to him. His eyes glanced to what lie in front of you. 

A body was faced down. Max sighed in relief. That cannon was not for you. 

“Kid, don’t ever do that…again.” 

You had finally turned around at the familiar and safe voice. 

Max’s heart plummeted at the sight of tears in your eyes, red patch that was slowly growing on your t-shirt, and bloody hands. His backpack and stick dropped to the ground. 

A ring vibrated through his ears as he rushed to catch you before you fell to the ground. 

“Kid?” Max asked as you looked up at him. Your small hand reached up and touched his face, leaving a bloody trail on his cheek. 

“I did it just like you showed me Maxie. Now you can win.” 

Max smiled, with tears streaming down his face. The some that fell on you were wiped with his trembling fingers. 

“Of course you did.” 

Your big eyes stared up at him. “Are you proud of me?” 

Such a big question for such a small girl. 

“Always,” he whispered back. 

“Can you tell me that story? About the big lion and little lion? One more time?” 

He let out a wobbly breath. 

“Once upon a time, there was a big lion that lived in a forest. He had about 19 other lions, but he was really a loner. The other lions weren’t good friends with the big lion. He felt like he was miles away and no one could touch him.” 

He noticed your eyes start to slowly glaze over and he tried to keep going. 

“The lion was very lonely and sad, but one day, the world decided to give him a friend: a little lion.” 

The cannon boom stopped his story in its tracks. His arms curled around you as he wailed. He wailed and wailed, not caring who could see him. 

After a few moments, he gulped down his cries. 

“And the lion was finally happy with the cub. He didn’t need any other friends. As long as he had the little one, he’d be ok. And the big lion and little lion left toward the sunset and were friends forever.” 

He leaned down to give your little head a farewell kiss. 

A few hours later, Max was declared the victor of the 89th Annual Hunger Games. As the helicopter that carried him flew toward the sunset, Max let tears drip down his face freely. He knew his little lion was finally safe. 

Always walking toward the sunset, waiting for the big lion to join. 

Earth 2230

“Ah Master Charles, glad you could make it,” Lando said snarkily as he sat in his seat. 

“Sorry, my padawan had many questions and kept me in the library for too long,” the man confessed as he took his seat next to Lando’s. 

“Oscar is the same way. What is with these trainees wanting to spend hours and hours in the library?” Lando’s head was leaned back in mock annoyance. 

Master Carlos, who sat across from the curly-haired man smirked. “You were like that once when you were my padawan Lando.” 

A scoff escaped Lando’s lips. He turned back to Charles. 

“How is Arthur handling everything?” 

Charles smirked. “He cried when we had to cut his hair.” 

“Well, he will get used to it,” a new voice piped up. The man had curly hair, like Lando’s, but a big gummy smile was plastered on his face. 

“Daniel, you don’t understand. He was inconsolable.” Charles’s hands raised in frustration. 

“Does anyone know why we were summoned? And where is Max and Master Horner?” 

The doors slid open and two figures walked in.

“We’re sorry for out tardiness Master Alonso. We had some trouble in the elevators.” Christian sent Max a knowing look that was returned with an eye roll. Max huffed as he sat down in his chair next to Charles. 

Once seated, Christian began to talk. 

“Well, I guess you’re wondering why we were all summoned here today.” 

A snort came from Lando, who quickly shut up after he received a glare from Carlos. He sank back into his chair. 

Christian continued. “Master Vettel and Master Räikkönen think they’ve found the chosen.”

Murmurs began to spread around the room. Annoyed with the added noise, Max was the one who spoke up. 

“Silence.”

The room quieted. 

Daniel was the one to lean forward. “How do they think they’ve found the chosen? It’s just a prophecy that has been collecting dust for centuries.”  

Christian rubbed his face. “All they said was that they felt a disturbance in the force when they visited Naboo for their diplomatic mission. They went to investigate and the force grew stronger the closer they got to the capital center.” 

A hologram erupted from the middle. It was a map of the center with an undergrown view as well. A red beacon signaled from deep down. Max’s finger pointed at it. 

“Underneath they found an illegal human trafficking ring that dealt with children with force sensitivity. When they got there, most of leaders had been knocked unconscious. In the middle was a girl. They said the force just pulsated off her being.” 

Christian picked up from there. “They’re bringing her in in just a few moments. She’s been debriefed about everything and is willing to join the cause.” 

Lando looked intrigued. “Who’s going to be her master.” 

Max leaned back in his chair. “I am.” 

A scoff echoed, but it wasn’t from Lando this time. It was from Master Hamilton. Max tilted his head and cast his gaze on the older Master. 

“Have something to say Lewis?” 

Lewis rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t someone more,” he paused, “advanced in their Master roll be given the chosen as their padawan?” 

Charles spoke up. “Like you?” 

“Yes,” came the answer from the man. 

Carlos spoke, “But you just brought on your own padawan. I don’t think poor George would be too keen on losing a Master so close to his choosing.” 

“But you shouldn’t give the chosen over to another child.” 

Max stood up in anger. “I’ve been through the trials. I am as much of a Master as you are.” 

“Enough,” a new voice roared as the doors to the room opened. 

They all stood up and sightly bowed their heads. 

“Master Vettel. Master Räikkönen.” 

Behind the two stood a teenage girl. Robes already adorned her body. Her hair was tied in traditional high braids, and a smaller, thinner one draped over her shoulder, showing her status.  

Kimi took his seat in one of the center chairs, but Sebastian stood in the middle with the girl. 

“As you all have probably been briefed by Master Horner, this is Y/n.” 

You took a step forward and kneeled before the council. Sebastian took a step around you and sat in his seat. 

“You may rise.” 

You did as you were told and took a minute to briefly glance at the council of masters. Each one of them winced at the force energy that seemed to just radiate off of you. Well, all of them except one. Your eyes met his electric blue ones. He sent you a comforting smile, which you didn’t have time to send one back before Sebastian spoke. 

“State your name for the council.” 

You inhaled shakily. “My name is Y/n L/n, from Coruscant.” 

Charles leaned towards you, elbows on his knees. “But you were brought here from Naboo.” 

You winced at the mention of the name. The masters could feel your distress and Max wanted nothing more than to elbow Charles for that insensitive question. 

“I was taken, Master, from my home planet and enslaved for the past three years.” 

Charles grimaced at your answer and leaned back, staying silent for the rest of the meeting. 

Kimi sent you a small smile before he cleared his throat. “We have brought you here to begin your padawan training.” 

That must have comforted you since the force wasn’t buzzing as much around you. The masters were now at ease. 

Max wanted to talk, since he was going to be your new master, but he was interrupted by what he thought was a grating voice. 

“So, are you the chosen one?” Lewis questioned, eyes slitted as he looked at you. 

Your ease was now slowly vanishing as you were under the scrutiny of the master. Your gulp was heard through the room. Lando felt bad as he once had been under the same gaze when he was a Padawan. He tried to send you comforting signals through the force. 

“I don’t know for sure if I’m the chosen. I’m just thankful to be alive at this point Master. And I don’t enjoy being picked apart before I even know what I am to begin with.” Your voice had risen in annoyance. “Sir.” 

Max smirked. He didn’t need to look around, he knew the others were also smirking or trying not to laugh. 

Sebastian spoke next. “Y/n, we would like you to pick your master.” 

Max wanted to jump and shout that you were already supposed to be his padawan, but Christian’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

Your tired eyes looked around the room. 

The master with the thick dark hair and tanned skin looked promising, but you could feel that he already had a want for another padawan. He gave off the same energy as the boy with similar hair that you had passed on your way here. His friends called him Rafael. 

Across from him, curly hair caught your attention. But you also felt that he already had what he was looking for. 

Same as the man with the short goatee and green eyes. You felt a familial energy reach out to someone, probably a brother close by. You wouldn’t want to separate them. 

The other curly-haired man showed you a smile that rivaled the sun. Once again, his force energy was already attached, but it seemed he had two. Not rare, but it was weird to feel the force branch like that. 

You had already asked Master Vettel and Räikkönen if you could be there padawan, but they had declined. 

The dark man in the corner was giving you mixed signals that gave you a headache. His energy was split. The one that was attached was waning at you looked at him, almost as if he was trying to break it. At that moment you decided not to choose him. Because if he wasn’t 100 percent sure with his chosen, how could he be sure with you. 

Your gaze finally landed on the blue eyed man that had sent you a smile. His force energy felt like it was vibrating at the same frequency as yours. Which helped it melt into a smooth rhythm. 

When it had stilled, you heart, mind, and force had chosen. 

Max felt it the moment your signature became still for the first time since you stepped foot into the room. 

The other masters, except one, smiled at you. They all stood and left one by one until it was just you and your chosen in the room. 

He stood up and walked toward you. 

Your head bent in a quick bow. “Master.” 

“You can call me Max.” 

Your brows furrowed. “Is that allowed?” 

Max only smirked. “Who cares. I’m your master now. My rules are your rules.” 

You flashed him a smile. “Ok…Max.” 

A grin crept onto his face. “You ready to save the galaxy kid?” 

With a nod, you two shook hands. 

The sunset filled the room as your silhouette became black shapes. Nothing would be better than the orange and pink casts from your home planet as you started your new life as “The Chosen” or better as “Master Verstappen’s Kid.”  

Master and Padawan Pairings:  Max and Y/n Charles and Arthur Carlos and Rafael (FAD)  Lando and Oscar  Daniel and Liam with Yuki  Lewis and George  Not mentioned – Alex and Logan  Former Christian and Max  Former Toto and Lewis  Former Jules and Charles  Former Carlos and Lando

Earth 934

1991

Your eyes glanced around the big train as you tried to find an open seat. Your hands clutched your bag as you kept walking further and further toward the back. You sighed in relief as you finally noticed a room with no one in it. You softly opened the door and slid in. Both seats were empty. 

Taking a minute to breathe, you stared out at the vast country side that the train passed through. You almost fell asleep, but the sudden open and close of the car door made you jump. Your head turned toward the intruder. 

A boy, possibly older than you since he already had his robes, was leaning against the now closed door. He took a deep breath before his blue eyes landed on you. 

“Hi,” you said, not wanting the air to be filled with awkward silence. The boy did not reply, but he did go over and sat on the opposite bench of yours. Your folded your arms. He dared to interrupt your quiet and not respond. 

You opened your mouth to speak once again, but he beat you to it. 

“My name is Max. Sorry for interrupting whatever you had going on.” 

Your mouth closed at his confession. 

“What do they call you kid?” 

“I’m not a kid. I’m twelve years old.” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Which makes you a kid. You’re two years younger than I am.” 

“That makes you fourteen. And by technicalities, you would be a kid as well.” You huffed, not enjoying the teasing from the older boy. 

Max pouted. “Just tell me your name.” 

It was your turn to roll your eyes. 

“It’s L/n. Y/n L/n.” A smirk crept on your face and Max’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward, almost as if to tell you a secret. 

He whispered. “Do you have, the, you know?” 

Your small hand came up and brushed your little bangs away. There, on your forehead was a lightning bolt shaped scar. It wasn’t like a cartoon shape as it had little bolts that stretched out across and down, but stopping at your eyebrow. 

“Wow,” Max managed to breathe out. “What house do you reckon you’ll get?” 

You shrugged. “Well, my parents died and I was adopted by a muggle couple and they were awful. So I really don’t know what the houses actually stand for.” 

Max looked angry for a moment. “Well, that’s bloody terrible for you have to gone through that. I hope that you’ll get into my house.” He pulled on his green and silver tie. “One of my friends, his name is Lando, is also in Slytherin. But then you have my best friend Daniel in Hufflepuff, Charles is in Gryffindor with his brother Arthur. You’d have to watch out for Lewis though in Ravenclaw, he’s a bit extreme.” 

You took a moment to absorb all of his words. 

“I think I’d like to stay with you or one of your friends.” 

The 14-year-old was elated at the statement. “We’ll see what happens.” 

1997

Your mind often went back to that conversation years ago. It was maybe the last time you ever felt safe anywhere. Hogwarts was supposed to be your home, yet here it lay destroyed. 

That fateful night you had not been chosen to be a part of the Slytherin house, but thankfully you were placed in Gryffindor with Arthur and Charles. They took care of you like a family should have. Max also stayed super close to the three of you. Whether it was going to Honey dukes, playing quidditch, or even making potions in Headmaster Horner’s class, the four of you were together. 

Your wand twirled in your hand as you sat on some broken steps. The once beautiful ceiling had giant holes in it that made way for the night sky. Tears streamed down your face as you pondered your next step. 

It had gone downhill so quickly. 

Lewis, as it turns out, had given your location away to Toto, who had wanted you dead since you were just a baby. He was the one to kill your parents and “bless” you with the mark on your head. The betrayal had sent shivers down everyone’s spine. 

Many people had been killed because of you. 

Charles and Arthur’s brother Jules had been hit by a stray spell. Their screams and wails were now permanently engraved in your brain. 

Max’s girlfriend Kelly, a nice Hufflepuff, had been attacked by a rogue werewolf. She was still alive, but barely. 

Your two Ravenclaw friends, Alex and Logan, were found under some rubble, hands clenched together as to share pain before death. You remembered how Oscar, another Ravenclaw who hung out with you and Lando, sobbed into the latter’s shoulder for hours after he found his blond best friend. 

Your friends had died to protect you and you had done nothing. 

At this thought, your mind was made up. 

Toto wanted one thing, and one thing only: for you to die. For the umpteenth time your mind wandered to his ultimatum that he had given you earlier that evening.

“Y/n L/n. I know that you know that you are trapped now with nowhere to go. Come to the forbidden forest tonight and I will cease all fighting on my end. The rest of your  friends won’t have to die due to your insubordination and fear. When you come, be prepared to die.” 

His snake-like voice had been broadcast through the minds of everyone. Before he had even finished, you took your leave, not wanting to watch as another family wept over a dead brother or sister. 

With shaky legs, you stood up and brushed your skirt. Your face showed your determination as you began to walk down the steps. But as your foot hit the actual floor, a body rammed into yours. 

“Kid!” A voice from farther away yelled, accompanied by quick footsteps. 

A quick glance at the hair that was attached to the body now in your arms let you know it was Arthur. Over the top of his head, you noticed Max and Charles running toward you. 

They were quick to also put their arms around you. 

Max maneuvered your face so that you were looking him in the eyes. 

“Kid, we have to go now before he decides to attack again. Arthur and Charles know a way out. Let’s go.” 

He thought that you had agreed as he turned around to leave. Charles followed him, and Arthur tugged on your hand, as if to lead you away. 

Yet, you stayed put and Arthur’s hand slipped from yours. 

“Y/n?” he asked, looking back with tears in his eyes. You gave him a crooked smile as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over. 

You tilted your head in the opposite direction. That’s when it hit the three men. You had already made up your mind. 

“No, no, no, no. You can’t,” Max choked out the last word. 

“I have to Max. I won’t let another one of our friends die because of me. I can’t risk Daniel leaving you or have Lando taken from Oscar right after Logan.” You looked at the two brothers. “I can’t let you two lose each other. I won’t let that happen to your mom.” 

Charles looked at your with sympathy swarming his green eyes. He slowly walked toward you and gave you a hug. While you were in his arms, his lips met your forehead. You knew that was going to be his goodbye. 

Arthur was next. He pleaded as he curled his arms around you. “Let me go with you. Let me walk with you. I swear I’ll leave before...before...” 

Your hand was slowly placed on his cheek as you shook your head. Another sob escaped his lips and a new tidal wave of tears left his and your eyes. “I can’t risk you. Please, stay with Charles.” 

Arthur begrudgingly nodded, but not before placing a light kiss on your lips. A small smile graced your face as you tried to kiss back through the tears. When the two of you parted, he looked down at you, a sad smile now replacing his frown. 

“Please try to come back to me.” With that, he turned around and left. Charles gave Max a knowing look before he took after his brother. 

It was just you and your oldest friend. 

Max came over and put his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t give you a hug, or a long speech, or a kiss on the forehead like he usually did when he had to leave you at the train station before every summer. He just looked at you before his eyes glanced at your wand. You thrust it in his hands. 

“Take care of them for me?” 

“Always.” 

“Tell Lando that he can have whatever is in my house. I know he was looking at my Nimbus RB20 the other day.” 

“Always.” 

“And Max?”

A hum answered as Max couldn’t find the strength to speak. 

“Watch the sunsets for me?” 

“Always.” 

Finally, you rushed into a hug. Max’s arms couldn’t get any tighter around your form. With one last squeeze, you broke the hug and turned away, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. Your walk to the forest was quick, as you wanted this to be over as soon as possible. 

There, suddenly in front of you in all his ugly glory, was Toto. Lewis was to his side, looking rather ashen probably with fear. Even though he betrayed you, you tried to send a comforting smile his way. 

“Are you ready to die?” The snake-like voice hissed. 

“Yes.” 

There was a moment between the yell of “Avada-Kadavra” and when the spell hit you. There, you knew peace. Your body hit the forest floor with a thud.  

Arthur, who was still back at the castle suddenly inhaled sharply. Charles, scared for his younger brother’s sanity, knelt next to him. 

“What is it?” 

Max, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel all crowded around the younger boy. 

He could only whisper. 

“She’s gone.” 

There was no time for mourning as someone screamed out in the courtyard. The group of boys rushed out and what they saw made them stop in their tracks. Headmaster Horner, who had been taken a few days ago, now carried your limp body for all to see. 

“Y/n L/n is dead!” 

“No!” your friend Lily screamed, but was quickly held back by Oscar. 

“Silence. Foolish girl,” Toto hissed. 

Arthur turned and put his head on Charles’s shoulder and wept, not caring anymore. 

“She’s not dead.” Everyone’s heads turned to Max, who had his wand pointed at the dark wizard. “She’s alive,” he gulped, “in all of us. She wouldn’t want us to give up. She’d want us to continue, even when everything seems dark. And I won’t let her die in vain.” 

Toto cocked his head. “Well then, you’ll die along with her.” He pointed his wand at the blue eyed boy, except a large explosion knocked him down. Your rolled out of Christian’s arms and ran toward Max, all while shooting a spell at the downed wizard. 

The students and teachers all ran in different directions. The battle was back on. 

Instead of running away, Max ran to you. He met you halfway and held you at a distance. 

“You came back Kid.” 

“Always.”   

Earth 7521

“When will he get back?” 

Logan stopped his machete in the air. You and he had been out in the sun for a couple of hours, trying to carve poles for the new housing system. 

“He’ll get back before the sun goes down.” 

“But what if he doesn’t?” Your gaze was cast at the big wall with the giant gap in the middle. What went beyond was your guess as you hadn’t been there, and technically you weren’t allowed to go. You’d chosen to be a woodworker, not a runner. 

Logan sighed. He had sworn that he’d take care of the new greenie, but this isn’t exactly what he signed up for. 

“Max always gets back right at the gate closes. Has done every day since I got here. He comes in with Alex and they’ll go to the map room.” He really tried to ease your conscience. You had all but attached yourself to the boy since you got here. He couldn’t blame you since Max was really the first one that you saw. He was the same with Alex, as was Oscar with Lando and Max with Daniel. 

Your brows furrowed. “But Alex just got back and Max isn’t with him.” 

Logan dropped his machete and it thumped in the grass. His head jerked over to where you were looking. There, the Thai runner had just crossed the threshold of the giant gate, but the Dutch runner was nowhere to be found. 

“Stay here,” he demanded, but really didn’t expect you to obey. Anything that had to do with Max, you would find out one way or another. A large groan came from the giant wall, signaling that it was about to close. 

Logan hastened his pace and heard your footsteps try to keep up with him. As he got near, Lewis and Lando both crowded around Alex. The blond picked up on their conversation. 

“Where’s Max?” Lando questioned as his eyes kept flickering between the hunched over runner and the wall. 

Alex sucked in a breath. “We got separated. A griever was out in the open.” 

Multiple gasps came from others as a crowd had formed. 

Lewis’s eyes widened. “But grievers don’t come out in daylight.” 

Alex had a sullen look. “I know.” 

Lando cast another glance at the metal gate that let out another groan and a shake. This time, the doors were slowly closing. 

“So we’re just going to leave Max in there?” Lando gestured. 

Lewis looked down at the ground and nodded. A silence went over the group as they were now preparing to mourn the loss of one of their family. 

Logan’s heart sunk. You must have been devasted. He turned around to where you were supposedly. 

“I’m so s-…Y/n?” His head whipped around trying to find you. His heart sunk even further as his eyes finally found you, right in front of the closing doors. “Y/N!” 

Now you had everyone’s attention. 

“Greenie!” Lewis yelled. 

You simply turned your head and looked at the leader. “I got to go save Max.” It was as if you were explaining a simple toy to a toddler, like it was a matter of fact. 

“Max is gone Kid. We can’t lose you too,” Lando tried to negotiate and distract you as the doors got closer and closer together. 

The doors were so close to closing and Lando thought he was successful. Well, until you bolted and squeezed through the slit. Multiple boys called out for you but it was too late, the doors closed. Logan ran to the metal wall and hit his fist on it multiple times. 

On the other side for you, it was silent. An eerie type and not comforting. You tried not to get distracted at the maze-like sequence of walls that stood before you.

Right. You needed to find Max, and fast. 

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you silently ran and didn’t call out Max’s name. It felt like hours before you finally found him. Your eyes watched as his tried to curl up more, to make himself smaller. 

“Maxie?” you whispered. 

His head shot up, eyes wide as you walked closer to him. 

“Kid? What the hell are you doing here?” he whisper yelled back. You took a seat next to him. 

“I couldn’t leave you out here alone.” 

Max let out a sigh. “Well, now we’ll both be dead by morning.” 

You looked down at his bloodied leg. “What happened?” 

“Alex and I were mapping like always when a griever jumped out. They’re not supposed to be out in the daylight, but they were. I ran right and Alex went left. I thought I got away but I tripped. I think my ankle is sprained or broken. Couldn’t make it back to camp.” 

You absorbed the information before you stood up and took a vine down from the wall. The middle was stiff like a branch and the smaller vines attached to the leaves were bendable. You quickly made work of Max’s ankle and tied the stiff vines to his leg. 

“This should give you enough support so we can get back.” 

Max looked at you with wide eyes. “You’re good at this. Why didn’t you become a medjack?” 

You giggled as you helped him to his feet. “I couldn’t stand the tension between Nico and Lewis anymore and Logan seemed inviting enough.” 

That got a little laugh out of Max. 

The two of you made your way to the gate where you camped out all night. 

“Thank you kid. I’d be dead without you,” Max mentioned when the doors opened the next morning. 

“I know. Look Max, the sunrise!”

“Thanks kid. You know they’re my favorite.”  

Two years later

Those days in the Glade were much better than what you’d been through in the past two years. From running through the desert and being chased by zombie people to now sneaking into the giant headquarters to find some type of cure. 

Your eyes were now on Max as his head swayed back and forth. He didn’t look good as his face was drenched with sweat. 

It had been about a week since he told you that he had been infected. You had cried and cried, promising to find a cure. But that promise seemed to be so far away as you were nowhere closer to finding it.

“Hold on Maxie,” you whispered as you tried to keep him upright. His head was now perched on your shoulder as you continuously looked up in the sky, looking for the rescue helicopter. Charles had disappeared once someone told him that his blood was the cure. He had promised to be back quickly, and that was an hour ago. 

Max didn’t have much time left. 

A thumping in the air caught your attention as you gently placed him back against a wall. Black goup now started to run out of his mouth. You gently wiped it away before placing a kiss on his forehead. 

“Here they come Maxie. Just a few minutes more.” You stood up and turned to try to wave the helicopter in your direction. Your smile grew as it now began to get closer and closer. 

“Max we’re going to be…ok.” As you now faced Max, confusion and fear glossed over your figure as he now stood a few feet away from you. His body twitched as his head swayed back and forth. 

“Max?” 

Your voice seemed to snap Max out of whatever trance he was in as he sudden rushed toward you and knocked you down. You thought this was it as Max’s hands harshly roamed and grabbed at your body. His hands stopped as he found your gun. 

He was quick to cock it and bring it to his head. Your hands were quicker and you knocked it out of his hands and it slid across the floor. Max growled down at you and jumped to go get it, but your hands yanked him back. You grabbed the gun and pointed it at your friend. 

Your heart broke as you looked at his sickly nature. His eyes cleared to that pretty blue that once always covered his eyes with kindness swarming in the storm. But now, he looked at you with a pleading nature. 

“Please, Kid. Please,” he begged, but you couldn’t pull the trigger. 

The clearness was quickly wiped away as you finally lost your friend. He managed to get up and sling the gun out of your head. Somehow, he had gotten a knife from his pack on his body and he came swinging. The two of you fought for a moment, before Max suddenly went still. 

Oh. 

Why did he stop?

Max stumbled back and you finally saw. 

Oh.      

Your lips quivered as you tried to slow his fall to the ground. You gently laid his head on a rock. He wheezed as he looked up at you. The helicopter wind picked up and your hair started to dance around your face. 

Max closed his eyes and his chest rose, fell, and froze. 

Your scream was silenced by multiple yells and the deafening sound of the chopper that had finally come. Hands grabbed your arms and ripped you away from your friend. You tried to fight and claw your way back, but the team was too strong.

They sat you down in a seat and allowed you to just cry. 

Your eyes caught glimpses of orange and yellow out the open door of the flying machine. 

Max would have loved the sunrise.  

Earth 1217 

“Y/n!” The yell of your team principal caught you attention. 

“Yeah?” You set down your race notebook and walked down the office hall. Yes, you hated office days, but at Red Bull you wanted to go over everything that involved you. Call it a bit of a prima-donna attitude, but you weren’t a five time champion or Red Bull’s golden girl for nothing.

“I wanted to take you out to the track. The new recruit is doing his testing laps for next season,” the older Brit mentioned as you joined him in walking down the hallway. 

You turned your head. “I though Daniel was up for Checo’s seat?” 

Christian sighed and looked down as the two of you walked passed the trophy shelves. Most of them were from you. 

“Daniel said he didn’t feel comfortable enough to handle our car. Maybe in a few years after he gets back in the groove in the Alpha Tauri, but not now.” 

You snorted. “Guessing Charles is as comfortable as ever being the Prince of Mercedes?” 

“Ah yes, your childhood friend-slash-rival did ask me to send his kind regards and told you to watch out for any puddles.” Your eyes rolled at the last statement. 

“All right, talk to me. Who else did we ask before you texted me that only said ‘I found him’.” 

Christian sighed as he backed his car out. The two of you had gotten to the parking lot in no time and were now headed to the track. 

“Well, Lando just renewed his contract with Ferrari, same as Oscar. Lewis, well, he never responded and McLaren never got back to us. Most of them aren’t really looking to be second to you.” 

“They’re just mad they’ve been dominated by a woman for five years straight and will be for another three. Maybe after that, someone can be number one.” 

The car jerked as he parked it. You stepped out, tennis shoe hitting the ground. They really went well with what you normally wore: skinny jeans, a Red Bull Polo, and your number 1 hat. 

The roar of the RB18 caught your attention as your eyes watched it zoom by. A bright yellow helmet caught your attention, but it went around the corner too quickly for you to watch. 

Once at the mock garage, you met up with Mitch and junior race engineer GP. Apparently the new recruit had wanted to keep his engineer with him through everything. Which you understood as you brought Mitch over with you after your McLaren days. 

“So is this Sargeant? His second place in the championship looked promising, but he was a bit slow,” you mentioned as your sunglasses covered eyes looked around. An angry looking man stood in the corner, bit headphones on his ears. 

"No. It's not Sargeant. His name is Max Verstappen. He jumped from F3."

Your eyes narrowed at the big angry man who seemed like he wanted to take a fork to a mechanic. You leaned over to Christian. “My abusive-parent radar is going off. I want him out of the garage.” 

Christian once again sighed. “I can’t throw our new driver’s father out of the garage on a hunch.” 

You took a sip of your Red Bull. “You did it with my parents.” 

“Y/n, they hit you in front of me. I had proof. Just wait a bit and we’ll watch him.” 

You huffed. “Fine, but he doesn’t come to any debriefs or meetings.” 

“Perfect.” He clapped his hands and your attention was now placed back at the newbie’s times. He was driving just a bit slower than you, but they were marginal tenths and hundredths behind. 

Mitch, being the senior engineer, clicked a button. “All right Verstappen, bring it back in.” 

“Got it. Thank you!” 

You hummed. “Polite kid.” 

Your RB18 pulled up and a scraggly kid jumped out of the car. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his dad got off his ass and started to come over. Not wanting anything to happen, you made your way to the boy, cutting him off. 

He had just taken his helmet and balaclava off when you reached him. Christian came up and joined you. The boy finally noticed you and looked at you with a gaze of amazement. 

“Max right?” you questioned and held out a hand to the Dutch kid. 

He nodded, still trying to take in the sight of his role model right in front of him. That’s when he noticed that you were still waiting for him to take your hand. He yanked off a glove and shook your outstretched hand. 

“Max Verstappen.” 

“How old are you?” You took another sip of your Red Bull and offered Max one as well, who took it quickly. 

“I’m nineteen, but I’m turning 20 at the end of September.” 

You had a fond smile on your face. You knew what it was like to be thrust into this life at a young age. Hell, Christian took a chance on you when you were just seventeen. 

“Who’s your favorite driver?” Mitch questioned, standing behind you. You knew she was teasing the boy as his face got red really quick. 

He mumbled, “You.” 

You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you look down at the boy. You went to say something else, but he beat you to it. You had a feeling that he might do it more often, but you didn’t mind. 

“I, uh, just wanted to say that I’m perfectly fine with being number two driver. I know you’re on a mission to make it to 8 championships. And I’d like to help you do it.” 

Your heart may have melted at the confession. 

“Well, once I get my 8 championships, let me tell you what. We here at Red Bull like to be record breakers, so I’ll help you make it 9. Sound like a good deal?” 

Max’s face lit up at the semi-promise of not just one championship, but nine! 

“Sounds good.” A giggle left his lips.

The sun was setting as you were all called for a brief meeting so that Max could sign the contract. Orange and yellows blended in together and bathed the two of you in its glory. 

“Ok then, welcome to the team kid!” 

Earth 1218 – Present Earth 

TikTok had become your addiction when you had spare minutes in your busy life. Videos passed by so quickly, you sometimes didn’t even register what it said. Thankfully though, you managed to not accidentally like anything that could harm your career before it barely got started. 

One trend seemed to be very popular at this time. Your fingers would swipe through the photos of various TV and movie characters. The pictures on each slide had the same captions. One being “Do you think we’re together in every universe?” and the other “I sure hope so.” 

You’d already asked Arthur and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Of course we would be. I think you’re stuck with me wherever you are,” he had told you. 

Yet, there was one driver who you really needed to ask. You had already seen versions of this made for multiple driver pairs. The ones of Charles and Max, Oscar and Logan, and Lando and Daniel always made you cry. You couldn’t help it. 

But, the ones of you and Max always made your heart happy. You knew that you weren’t the easiest to take care of and you came with baggage. However, Max never made you feel bad about it: he did the opposite. Many times, he made you forget all the bad things in your life by just being there. 

You sent him one of the generic ones from someone’s random account.

Little Racer 

https.www.tiktok./KID89.192&MAX0133/ Do you think we’re together in every universe? 

It took him a few minutes to respond since he was often busier than you were. The season was coming to an end, and his fourth championship was in his grasp. 

Big Racer 

I’m sure of it kid. Can’t get rid of me that easily. 

Little Racer 

And you still probably type like a grandpa in every one too! :P 

You laughed out loud when three middle finger emojis followed your text. Where you were sitting in the living room of your Monegasque apartment, the sunset caught your eye. You smiled as the rays nearly blinded you, but you were fine. The warmth spread across your cheeks as the rays kissed your face with softness. 

You didn’t know what other versions there were of you. You honestly didn’t care. Because as long as you had Max, you’d be just fine.

 

Across every earth, galaxy, and universe you’d find yourself dreaming of a life you didn’t live, but could only imagine how good everything would be in the end. 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @aeh2 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver

[rekiilysm]

London Boy (LN4)

Summary: In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl

Warnings: mentions of family trauma, but it’s really light, FLUFFFFFFFFFFF

Note: I promise I will stop doing song imagines. I already have a regular imagine in the works, THIS ONE WAS JUST TOO GOOD TO PASS UP 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Word Count: 4,377

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal and you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee Whiskey, but something happened. I heard him laughing. I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent.

When Y/n had been invited to the British Grand Prix, she was as excited as she could be. She wasn’t really educated when it came to F1, seeing as she had only heard of it twice in all her life. Nonetheless, it was a girls trip with her best friends, Paige and Lily, so she was eager to go anyway.

However, as she stood in the middle of the Paddock with coffee down her shirt and jeans, her views on the sport turned sour. The moment had transpired in seconds as she hurriedly walked down the street with her friends to get to their suite. She had heard a group of men laughing, one of the laughs standing out as more of a cackle, before her shoulder was crashing into another’s and hot liquid was seeping into her clothes.

“Shit!” The clothes clung to her, burning her body completely. Her eyes snapped up to be met with the chin of a man wearing orange, her gaze moving up to be met with dimples that were disappearing rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His British accent bled into his voice as he frantically gave her a once over, assessing for damage.

She would have been more mad if she hadn’t found him so attractive. His tan skin and muscular body only lessened the fuel in her fire as she listened to his charming british accent.

“I can pay for the clothes.” He said once more, sounding as if he was trying to grab her attention.

Her eyes met his, “Um, no, it’s okay.” She pulled at the clothes, shifting uncomfortably under the still scalding temperature.

“Here, my teammate’s girlfriend probably has something you can change into. I can take you to her if that works?” He asked timidly, gesturing around like she was near.

Y/n tilted her head, “Your teammate?”

She really had no knowledge of the sport. She assumed each brand had one driver because, in her mind, why would they need more?

The man chuckled as her American accent dawned on him and he realized she had no clue who he was, “Yeah, you can bring your friends if you want?” He tried once more, looking behind her.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, her friends’ mouths gaping open as they quickly nodded their heads for them to go with him, “Okay, that works.”

—

Lily held up a pair of blue jeans and a black bodycon shirt with a smile, “Try these on?”

Y/n smiled timidly, her friends were seemingly freaking out over the people in the room, but she didn’t understand why, “Thank you.”

Thankfully, the clothes fit her well, hugging her waist and doing wonders for the curves of her body. Stepping out of the bathroom and back into the room, she found Paige, Lily, and Teammate’s Lily as well as the man she had come to know, Lando.

“Better?” He asked as he walked up to her with an apologetic smile.

She returned it, “Yeah, a lot.”

They continued looking at each other for a few moments before Paige was clearing her throat and the two were separating. As the three girls grouped together, moving out of the room and toward the exit, Lando’s loud voice flooded their ear drums.

“Y/n! Wait!” His accent yelled as he ran over to them. Catching his breath with his phone in hand, he looked at Y/n with a toothy grin, “Let me take you out to dinner as an apology?”

The two girls beside her gasped as she nodded and put her number in his phone.

–

They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives. Ya know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you.

If you had told the y/h/c haired girl that day on the Paddock that the man who had spilled caffeine on her was successful and talented Lando Norris, driver for Mclaren, she would have laughed in your face. After multiple dates together and Lando feeling guilty at her still clueless self, he informed her of his rather rare occupation. She had been taken aback, not seeing him as some famous celebrity who had girls falling at his feet. He was so down to Earth and nice, even when she knew, she didn’t believe it.

It was around 5 months into the relationship when he asked her to come visit him on his vacation to London, telling her he wanted to show her around his hometown. Over the phone, she had asked him if this was his way of asking her to meet his family and she could hear the shy smile in his voice as he said, “What would you say if I said ‘yes’?”

With a smile on her face, she had excitedly told him to tell her when and she’d be there. Bags in hand at 4 AM, she had said goodbye to her best friends and assured them she would call every night over the next 2 weeks to fill them in on her “whirlwind romance with a celeb”. Their words, not hers.

To say she was giddy when her eyes met him from across Heathrow was an understatement. The way his glasses, baseball cap, and face mask failed to hide his smiling face and ecstatic demeanor warmed her heart. Instead of running over to him like she knew the both of them wanted, she walked cooly in his direction, not wanting to draw any attention to him and the relationship they were trying to keep under wraps. Upon reaching him, his arms wrapped around her middle, his face burying in her neck and inhaling the scent he had missed so much, as the two whispered words of longing and love in the other’s ear.

When he pulled back and his eyes landed on her smile, he tilted his head and gazed at the feature on her face he had grown to adore so much.

“Lando,” She giggled as her eyes clocked the way he lingered on her beam. His name on her lips forced him to move his eyes up, meeting hers and sparkling as they took the quiet moment for themselves.

Shining with adoration and yearning, his eyes said way more than he let on, “I missed you, my love.”

—

Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true. Ya know I love a London boy, boy, I fancy you.

“What if they don’t like me? Don’t Europeans, like, hate Americans?” Y/n asked as she clutched onto Lando’s arm, sticking to his side as they grew closer to the restaurant.

He laughed from beside her, but quieted down when he saw the genuine concern on her face. Stopping and taking her face in his hands, he pecked her lips, “Baby, they will love you. Trust me. Just because you’re American doesn’t mean they’ll think you’re annoying before they even meet you.”

Sighing and shrugging off his hold in frustration, she began walking toward their destination, “Do you guys really think people from America are annoying?”

He jogged to catch up with her before taking her hand in his and kissing the knuckles of it, “A lot of them are not as pleasant as you.”

Stepping into the pub, Y/n inched closer to his side, suddenly being hit with double her original amount of nerves. Thankfully, Lando’s arm slid around her shoulders as he steered her toward the back of the establishment. A booth filled with whispering 20-something adults came into view before Lando was pulling her to stand in front of everyone, on full display, something he liked and she didn’t.

“Guys, this is Y/n, my girlfriend.” He smiled as his voice grabbed the attention of what Y/n could only determine were his best friends.

A chorus of “Nice to meet you!” and “We’ve heard so much about you” graced the couple’s ears. Lando ushered for her to scooch into the empty seats saved just for them.

Once settled, the questions began.

Max was the first to jump in, wanting to get to know the girl his best friend hadn’t shut up about for the past few months, “So, are you in uni?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion, “Uni?”

Lando chuckled from beside her and in his best American accent said, “College, baby.”

She laughed at her own stupidity, “Oh, yeah. I forgot you guys call it uni.”

Max shook his head with a smile, “No problem.”

“But, anyway, yes, I am in college.” She smiled and nodded as Lando’s friends hung onto her every word, something he was sure would happen.

“Oh, cool, what are you studying?” Ria entered the conversation, leaning over the table to greet the, now, only other girl in the group.

“Psychology. I want to become a therapist.” Y/n’s face lit up at the mention of her passion and Lando gazed upon her like she had just told him he would be World Champion next year.

The table’s eyes bulged, “Don’t you have to go through a lot of schooling for that?” Maz inquired.

“Yeah! But, it’s okay. I’ve always liked learning.” She smiled back.

Max’s jaw dropped as he laughed and let out a breath, “How are you putting up with his stupid ass then?”

The group, including Y/n and Lando, threw their heads back in laughter as Lando tried to act annoyed, “Mate, don’t scare her away just yet.”

She put her hand on his bicep and rubbed softly, “Lan, if I was scared, I would have been gone already.”

He kissed her cheek quickly with blushing cheeks as Ria, Aarav, and Niran observed a lovesick Lando. Leaning over Aarav spoke to both Ria and Niran, “Why does he look happy?”

Niran giggled as Ria rolled her eyes, “Because he’s in love, dumbass.”

From across the table, Y/n tried to partake in a conversation between Lando, Max, and Steve, but the moment Ria’s comment met Y/n’s ears, she was done for.

Looking at the man who was crowding her space to hear his friends better, she wondered if he did, in fact, love her the way she loved him.

—

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride, “Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time”. They say home is where the heart is, but God, I love the English.

Throwing themselves into the cab, Lando and Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. Glancing out the window and being met with the aggressive downpour that was overwhelming London, Y/n listened to her boyfriend rattle off his address to the driver.

Sitting back, he let his head fall on the seat behind him as it lulled to the side, capturing his girlfriend’s unexplainable beauty.

He smiled before tugging on her hand, making her turn her attention away from the water droplets and to the man who was as soaked, if not more, then she was, “How long do you think it will take us to get back?”

He glanced outside, “The traffic’s really bad…” He trailed off as he wondered, “Probably around 20 minutes?”

“Mmm,” She leaned into his side, not at all caring for the way his drenched clothes stuck to her own.

His head fell on top of hers as they breathed together for a moment. His mind wandered to that morning and how he had been woken up by Max calling him.

–

Lando had shut off the ringer the second it blared loudly and thankfully, he hadn’t disturbed your sleeping form as he got out of the warm, soft cocoon to answer.

“Hello? Why are you calling me so early?” His groggy voice greeted his best friend on the other end of the line as he shut the door to the bedroom and walked out to the kitchen.

Max laughed, “Mate! It’s literally 12 PM. What were you up to last night?” His suggestive tone had Lando’s mind flashing back to the rather intimate activities that had taken place hours before.

“None of your business,” He bit out, “What do you need?”

“No need to get so hostile on me.” Max said innocently, “Just wanted to ask you if you’ve told Y/n you love her yet?”

Lando choked out a breath before clearing his throat, “I’m sorry- what?”

“Have you guys said that yet?” Max repeated, not understanding why his friend sounded so confused.

While he wanted to deny his love for her, Lando knew he couldn’t, he never could, “No.”

“Well, you should tell her.” Max stated firmly.

Lando’s voice fell quiet, “But, what if she isn’t there yet?”

Max loudly laughed, “Oh, man! It’s crazy how you bagged someone intelligent.” Lando cringed as Max continued, “She clearly feels the same way.”

Lando’s heart soared, “You think?”

HIs best friend sighed, “Yes, I do. So does Ria, and Niran, and Steve, and Aarav. It’s really obvious, dude.”

Lando’s smile hurt, “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Max chuckled, “I know. That’s why I called you.”

—

His brain thought over the possibility of telling her about his growing feelings as he felt her weight against his side in the back of the dirty cab. It was almost as if she heard his thoughts as she moved her head off his shoulder to stare up at him, silently begging him to say it.

Whether it was in his head or not, he fulfilled the wish he was convinced she was pleading with him to make reality, “I love you.” He whispered.

Their faces inches apart, Lando watched as Y/n’s face gleamed and her smile grew, “I love you too.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief when she moved to kiss him. His hands in her hair and no regard for the driver in front of them, he kissed her like he was crazily, stupidly, and wholly in love with her.

Because he was.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you, wanna be with you. You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking’ SoHo, drinking in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you. Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true.

“Darling, are you ready?” Lando’s voice flooded through his apartment.

As he rounded the corner of the hallway, she was popping out of the bedroom clad in jeans and a sweater, prepared for the crisp and cold London air. Catching his gaze, she jokingly twirled around as she muttered, “This good to meet your family?”

Closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her forehead, “Perfect. You look perfect, baby.”

With crimson red cheeks, the two of them left his building and made their way to his parent’s house minutes away.

“For some reason, I’m not as nervous to meet them as I was to meet your friends.” Her eyebrows contorted as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Maybe that’s because I’m their son and you love me. Ya know, the whole ‘Apple doesn’t fall far from the tre-’” He was interrupted by two giggling girls stopping to stand directly in front of them.

One of them gently shoved her phone in between them, “Can we take a picture?”

Y/n watched as Lando’s eyes softened before he was grabbing her phone and lightly turning her way to ask her to take it. Shaking her head with a smile, she grabbed it and positioned them in the frame, “Okay, 1…2…3,” She mumbled before taking multiple and handing it back to the girls that couldn’t be over 16, “I took a couple.”

Nodding, the other one’s eyes drifted between Lando and Y/n before cocking her head to the side.

“Wait, were those dating rumors true? Is this your girlfriend?” Her eyes grew wide in realization as Lando blushed and pulled Y/n into him.

Glancing down at her y/e/c eyes, he nodded, “Yeah, this is her.”

Gasping, the fans excitedly told the two how pretty they thought Y/n was before thanking each of them and running off.

Resuming their steps, Y/n giggled, “They had a crush on you. It was so cute.”

He laughed from beside her before kissing her temple, “Maybe, but I have a crush on you.”

—

“Okay, I take it back. I’m going to throw up.” Y/n’s face paled as Lando’s fist rapped against the wooden door.

“You said the same thing with my friends, baby, and they loved you. I’m telling you it will be the same with my family.” He tried to calm and reassure.

Thankfully, there was no room for disagreeing because his mom was opening the door and smiling widely at her son and his infamous new girlfriend.

“Lando!” She exclaimed before throwing her arms around her child.

“Hi, mum,” He laughed as he squeezed her tightly. Moving away and turning her head, Cisca beamed.

“Oh, you are so gorgeous! Tell me my son is treating you right?” She laughed before sending Y/n the sweetest smile the girl had ever received.

“Oh, he is, Mrs. Norris. Don’t worry.” Y/n assured as the woman pulled her into a hug as well.

“It’s Cisca to you.” Y/n could hear the warming smile in her voice before she was being led inside.

Walking into the house, Y/n’s noticed the immediate warmth that surrounded every furniture piece and person. It was a bit of a shocker and adjustment when she found out just how close Lando was to his family. Growing up, she hadn’t had that with her family as her parents didn’t have a good relationship and were constantly fighting while her siblings tried to calm both adults. It was traumatic, to put it simply, and after Lando had picked up on her confusion when he said he was going to meet his mom for lunch earlier in their relationship, he made a mental note to ask her about it later. When he did, she had had no choice, but to tell him her childhood, or lack thereof. He was quite surprised when he found out his bubbly, sweet girlfriend had come from such a toxic, violent household, but he didn’t voice that as he comforted her and apologized for something that wasn’t even his fault. Long story short, even though she had come to understand his relationship with his family, it was still a bit weird to her how much love there was to go around.

Coming up beside her, Lando’s hand rested on the bottom of her back as he whispered in her ear, “How are you doing?”

He could only assume how saddening this could be for her after countless words spoken with her over how angry she had been as a teenager at her parents for not providing with some sort of normal home life.

However, she just smiled up at him, laying a kiss on his cheek before whispering back, “I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and before he could lean in to meet her lips with his, Flo was appearing before them.

She beamed at the couple, “Hi! You must be Y/n. I’m Flo, Lando’s sister. He talks about you all the time.”

Her comforting tone gave Y/n the confidence to respond with, “Oh? I hope all good things?”

Lando chuckled as his hand squeezed her hip as his sister exposed him completely, “Oh, very good things. I’m serious, he actually never shuts up about you. I would be annoyed with him if he wasn’t so clearly happy.”

Y/n sent a smile to Lando’s sister before turning her head to gaze up at her boyfriend, realizing how much of a home she had found within him.

Soon enough, the rest of Lando’s siblings joined their sister, conversing with his American girlfriend like they had known her their whole life.

“So, you’re studying psychology to become a therapist, I hear?” Oliver inquired as Lando began to nod his head, a proud boyfriend.

She nodded along with him, “Yes, I’m graduating college this year and then I’ll move onto grad school to get my masters.”

Flo’s eyes widened, “Wow, do you know where you’re going?”

Lando blurted it out before Y/n could, he just couldn’t help how much he wanted to brag about her intelligence, “She’s going to Yale!”

All three siblings’ jaws fell open as Y/n laughed at her boyfriend’s eagerness, “Yale. I’m going to Yale. Thanks, babe.”

He smiled sheepishly down at her as he muttered a sorry to which she shook her head, not mad at all.

The conversation took off from there, continuing on while all of them sat at the dinner table, only then did the parents join in. Everyone was enthralled by Y/n, captured by her charm and smile, falling victim to all the same things Lando had. He wanted to take a picture, at that moment, as he gazed upon the girl who was very quickly earning the title of “Love of my Life” and how she clicked perfectly with everyone else he loved immensely.

As the night went on, leading into the darkness of midnight, Lando found himself in his old backyard, alone, as he watched Y/n in a very committed conversation with his sisters about Taylor Swift.

He wasn’t aware how long Oliver had sat next to him, only being aware of his presence when his brother said, “I think she’s it.”

Shaking his head, he frowned at his brother, “What?”

Oliver smiled down at his younger brother, remembering his own lovestruck days, “I think she’s it. I think you’ve found the one, Lando.”

To say he was blushing would have been an understatement, Lando was blood red in the cheeks, the neck, the ears, everywhere. His smile spoke volumes to his brother as he took a moment before responding, “I think so too.”

“How’d you two meet again?” Oliver had heard the story once, on the day it happened, but never again after that.

Once again, Lando’s smile hurt, “We met on the paddock at Silverstone. She was with her friends and we were both distracted, so we ran into each other and I literally spilled my coffee down her entire front. Thankfully, she was really sweet about it which didn’t help the fact that I was already in love with her. But, anyways, I remember I got to look at her first. She was looking down at her clothes while I was just staring at her. I seriously think I have never been that gobsmacked by someone’s beauty before. I almost couldn’t speak when she actually made eye contact with me. I offered to pay for her clothes, but then I realized that that would mean I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to her again, so I told her Lily would have something extra. I actually had no clue if Lily had extra clothes, I really didn’t expect her to because who the hell brings extra clothes to an event? But, I knew it would give me at least 20 more minutes with her, so I ran with it. Fortunately, Lily did have extra clothes, something I was incredibly confused by, and when Y/n was finished changing, she walked out without my number. I had been so nervous to ask her, but Lily yelled at me the second the door closed to get off my ass and go get a date with her, so I did. Thank God, I did, man.”

Oliver hung on to his brother’s every word, observing the twinkle in Lando’s eyes when the three girls across the yard would laugh at something Y/n had said. Even if he had never met Y/n, Oliver was sure he would’ve gotten the memo on how in love Lando was with her just by how highly, how affectionately he talked about her. I mean, it was actually partially true. Going into the dinner, everyone in the family was aware of how love drunk Lando was with this girl he had been dating. From the moment he had called them, detailing how he had just met this girl who had absolutely stolen his attention, the family had made bets on the fact this relationship would last a lifetime.

Even now, as he watched Lando wander over to his girlfriend like a lost puppy, Oliver was sure it would.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you. I fancy you, fancy you, oh.

“Baby! Guess what 5 years ago today was!” Lando’s voice yelled throughout their flat in Monaco as he wandered aimlessly, trying to find his fiancé.

He found Y/n in the kitchen, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows as her hip rested against the countertop, “What?”

Pulling her into his arms and showing her his phone, he smiled, “You met my parents, love. 5 years ago today.”

She laughed as she looked at the screen, only to find a picture of her, asleep in Lando’s car at time with the caption, ‘slumped after meeting the fam’

“God, that’s a really horrendous picture of me.” She replied as Lando immediately tugged on the hem of her shirt with a scowl, “What? No, it’s not! You always look so cute when you’re asleep.”

She over exaggerated a nod before he pinched her side, her yelping in response.

“Isn’t it good I think you’re cute when you’re asleep?” He smiled cheekily, “I mean, we are getting married,” His fingers toyed with the ring on her finger, “so, I’ll be waking up to you like that every day for the rest of our lives.”

She smiled as he kissed her, breathing her in, “When you put it that way, it’s not too bad.”

[rekiilysm]

spider-man!lando

cw: strangers to friends to lovers, uni au, idiots in love, fluff fluff fluff, slight angst; comfort/hurt (reader comforting lando), sad and tired lando:::(((((, mention of blood/wounds/bruises.

words: ~1,5k

notes: hii i'm finally back:D, i've been thinking about abt spiderman lando for weeks now omg!!! anyway it took me so long to write this pls don't hesitate to leave feedbacks😭 enjoy<3

playlist (to listen to for a better experience !!!): daylight by harry styles, yellow by coldplay, sparks by coldplay (my fav song in the whole world)

______________________________________________

lando norris. the adorable, clumsy guy you spot every day in class. he's always in his own world, snoozing on his desk and consistently late –somehow managing to still have good grades. you've been watching him for a few weeks now, totally fascinated by the curly boy. a goofy smile always creeps onto your face when he does something silly like accidentally bumping into people and mumbling apologies or drooling on his notes while falling asleep in class.

oh, you definitely have a small crush on lando norris — or maybe even a big one. your mind has been filled with all sorts of ideas on how to approach him –daydreaming about it during class or as you're trying to fall asleep at night, finding yourself staring at your ceiling with a stupid grin, lost in thoughts of that adorable guy you've been keeping an eye on.

today, you stayed a bit longer in class, diligently recopying your notes from the previous lecture. however, you weren't alone; a dozing lando occupied a nearby table, blissfully drooling on his notes. concentration became a struggle as you wrapped up quickly, sighing as you stole glances at the dreamy boy. rapidly packing your bag without a sound, you approach him, taking a moment to admire the sleepy boy, a smile instantly gracing your lips as your heart melts. inhaling deeply, you find the courage to gently tap his shoulder.

"hey," you softly whisper, lando whimpering and stirring slightly. patiently, you wait, hoping his eyes will finally open. when they don't, a suppressed giggle will finally open, and you tap his shoulder again, a bit more insistently this time.

"wake up!" you whisper-scream, a blush coloring your cheeks as a hint of regret surfaces –maybe it was too much, maybe you should have let him sleep, uncertain if he'd appreciate your wake-up call. his eyes eventually flutter open, struggling to grasp the situation. once he does, he clears his throat, quickly fixing his posture and adjusting his glasses. the sight makes your heart feel like it might burst out of your chest.

"class is over," you say sofly, standing in front of him, resisting the urge to run your hand through his messy hair.

"what?" he groans, still attempting to shake off his sleepy state. "already?" he glances around in confusion, seeing the empty room before turning to you, finally becoming aware of the one who put him out of his sleep and his cheeks slightly turns red.

"do you need notes?" you ask, eager to have a conversation with him. the pink on your cheeks persists since he opened his eyes, intensifying as he looks at you with big, confused and sleepy eyes. his gaze shifts down to his notes, damp with drool, and suddenly his cheeks burns. clearing his throat once more, he nervously scratches the back of his head.

"oh... right... uh," his eyes return to you, hesitantly meeting yours, and you stand there, fighting the smile on your face. "i guess i could use some of your notes," he chuckles nervously, "if that's okay for you, of course!" he quickly adds, causing your heart to race dangerously close to exploding because of how cute he is.

"of course, you can give it back to me tomorrow," you smile, your stomach tightening with the anticipation of talking to him again.

"thank you," he softly says, still clearly in a sleep state and a bit lost, but he manages to offer you a shy smile that almost brings tears to your eyes.

"see you tomorrow, then," after giving him a final smile, you turn around, hearing a small "see ya!" behind you before leaving the class, feeling happier than ever.

lando runs a hand through his hair, attempting to process what just happened. conversations with people at uni is rare for him, making it a surprise when someone approaches. he gazes at the notes you handed him, lost in his thoughts for a few more minutes before reality hits him—he just embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl.

"fuck..." a groan filled with frustration and embarrassment escapes his lips as he buries his face in his hands, his cheeks bruning.

______________________________

since that day, you and lando start having study sessions, usually at the library or in relaxed coffee shops. the transition is a bit of a mystery; lando returned your notes, and somehow, conversations about the lecture led you to offering help, which he accepted without hesitation.

your study sessions became more and more friendly, both of you getting comfortable in each other's company. you couldn't be happier, realizing that you get the chance to see him every day and appreciate the subtle details, like the way he crunches his nose when he is thinking or how his glasses slide down when he attentively listens to your explanations.

it's the way lando consistently gives you his full attention, not just during study sessions, but also when you share bits about yourself, your interests, or even random stuff you've seen on the internet or the way he never forgets to bring two snacks, always excited to share it with you and making sure you're eating and drinking well. despite his lateness, he puts effort to be present, sincerely apologizing and making it up to you everytime.

you somehow got used to his habit of arriving late, accepting that it's a part of who he is. even though frustration and questions nag at you occasionally, you never found the courage to ask and feel like you don't have the right to say anything. of course, there have been moments when you were mad, waiting for over an hour, but you're way too whipped for him to stay mad forever.

just like that, you find yourself slowly falling for lando. what started as a silly crush turned into something more profound; it's evident when butterflies go wild in your stomach at the sight of him, and your heart races unusually fast whenever he smiles at you.

lando can't quite understand how you've become a constant presence in his thoughts. the frequency of your hangouts has become unexpectedly high, something unusual for him. being spider-man and a student was already challenging enough; adding a social life seems nearly impossible. he tried before –having friends, attending parties, socializing –but it never lasted, the fatigue and busyness making it hard to keep up.

with you, everything feels different for lando. falling this hard was unexpected from the moment he first asked you to study with him. slowly, he starts making time for you, always finding a way to see you, even if study sessions became an excuse. you became a ray of sunshine in his life, bringing light to his otherwise tiring days. whenever he feels miserable, a glance at you makes everything feels right.

beyond study sessions, you both start having dates –that's how you secretly both call your hangouts. lando takes you to the arcade, introducing you to his favorite games, while you share cherished spots in your favorite park; sitting there, watching swans, you engage in lighthearted conversations, while your hearts secretly beat for each other, missing the subtle starstruck gazes and the way your cheeks burn when your hands accidentally brush against each other.

the worst part for lando is finding himself thinking about you even in the midst of fighting villains, getting distracted more than he should. it frustrates him how he can't shake you from his mind, even when he's spider-man. at first, he hated himself for it, attempting to ignore his growing feelings. but it become undeniable the day you smiled at him with the most sincere and loving expression. in that moment, he realized he was already too deep into it and let himself drown deeper into the feeling.

________________________________

letting out a frustrated whimper, you bury your head in your hands. you've been attempting to finish this essay for hours now, but thoughts of the curly-haired boy persistently invade your mind. you've tried to push him out, if only for a moment, to focus on this stupid homework, but he always finds a way back into your thoughts. being stuck in your small apartment due to villains doesn't make the situation any easier.

sighing for the umpteenth time tonight, you stare at the almost white screen of your pc, hoping that motivation will miraculously appear. amidst your frustration, a subtle noise catch your attention. you turn around, your eyes scanning outside. you notice nothing out of the ordinary, brushing it away and convincing yourself it was just a passing bird. you had bigger problems anyway.

as you try to refocus on your work, the persistent noise grows louder, intensifying your unease. determined to dismiss it, you turn around for a second time, only to be shocked by the unexpected sight of lando. his face is covered with bruises, and he's struggling to climb the last steps of the fire escape stairs. reacting quickly, you jump from your chair, urgently guiding your steps as you open the window to lend him a hand.

"oh my god lando!" you choke on your own split, and lando lets out a pained groan, fighting to maintain his balance as he relies on you. with careful effort, he makes it to the sofa, collapsing upon it. you rush to his side, cupping his bruised face, your heart sinking as you take a look at the injuries. the sight nearly brings you to tears, a mix of concern and distress filling your stomach.

lando looks drained, the effort to keep his eyes open visible on his face. despite the weakness, he manages to maintain an unwavering gaze locked onto yours. the pain you're reading in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, making your heart heavy.

"lando... what happened?" you say softly, your voice betraying the dryness in your throat. his response is delayed, taking a minute for lando to found the strength to answer. throughout this time, his hands grip your shirt, and his eyes remain fixed on yours, unbroken since he arrived.

"just a stupid fight... i'm fine," his voice is deep and weak, feeding your concern. despite the fatigue, he manages a small, gentle smile.

"what do you mean you're fine? are you kidding me?" you try to keep your voice soft, not wanting to add tension. "let me take care of you first, then you're going to tell me everything," with a sigh, you stand up, but lando's hands on your wrist stops you. you can't miss the painful groan that escapes him.

"i'm fine... i promise," he says weakly, his words carrying a weariness that tugs at your concern. "you're not fine, lando!" you voice unintentionally rises, a reflection of your worry, but you regret it the moment you lock your eyes with lando's softened gaze.

your hand instinctively reaches for his cheek, your thumb gently tracing the lines of his bruised skin. "it's okay, let me take care of you, please?" you implore, your voice adopting a softer tone. lando's heart seems to respond, warmth spreading as he relaxes, gently releasing your wrist.

"okay," he mumbles, too tired to resist, and you hurry to the bathroom to get your aid kit. returning swiftly, you find an exhausted lando, battling fatigue. your heart tightens, and you take a deep breath, holding back tears. lando starts regretting coming to you, the worry on your face making him feel guilty. as you come back, without a warning, you put an arm around him –and he's surprised that even in this awful state, you manage to make his heart beat faster. "let's get you on the floor," you gently suggest, doing your best to avoid hurting him. with a few soft whimpers, lando makes it to the ground, and you sit in front of him, getting the closer you can.

you gently take his chin between your fingers, inspecting the wounds again, unable to get over the extent of his injuries. lando feels his cheeks burn from the closeness and attention, his heart racing. without wasting any time, you start cleaning the bruises, handling him carefully.

your eyes shift to his white shirt, now stained with fresh blood, revealing notable marks underneath. a gasp escapes you, and you look at lando, your hands gripping the bottom of his shirt. "can i?" you timidly ask in a quiet voice, and lando don't hesitate to nod, trusting you more than anyone. you proceed to gently take off his shirt, ensuring not to cause him more pain. he winces, and your eyes fall on his wounded body, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. "oh my god..." you fingers trace the big and deep wounds, and lando watches you with remorseful eyes.

you don't add anything, wanting to take care of everything as soon as possible so he can finally rest. a comfortable silence fills the room as you begin with his face, gently cleaning and bandaging the wounds.

on the other hand, lando can't tear his eyes from you, enjoying your pouty expression because of your concentration. occasionally, he closes his eyes when you touch a sensitive area, his lips parting to release small groans. you find yourself apologizing each time, looking at him with sympathetic eyes.

you take a second look at his blood-covered body, and a million of questions race through your mind. this can't be a simple fight. lost in your thoughts, you don't notice lando's gaze or the flush on his cheeks due to your intense staring of his chest. he's about to call your name, but you're quicker than him.

"are you hiding something, lando?" you gently speak, your hands cupping his face with tenderness. you give him a soft look that seeks not just the truth but a shared vulnerability. lando opens his mouth to respond, but the words gets stuck in his throat, caught between the desire to tell you everything and the fear of exposing too much.

"i..." he starts, the weight of unspoken words evident in his eyes. sensing his struggle, you lean in closer, a soft and reassuring forming on your lips. your fingertips dance gently over his cheek. "you know you can tell me everything, right ?" you whisper, your voice filled with understanding. lando don't even dare to blink, drawn into the sincerity in your gaze.

without hesitation, he closes the gap with a tender kiss. your mind momentarily pauses, trying to process the situation. slowly, you kiss him back, feeling the heaviness of his heart in the softness of the kiss.

pulling back slowly, your eyes meet again, and there is a change in lando's expression. the warmth is replaced by a hint of concern, even sadness, making you rise an eyebrow curiously; "wh-"

"i'm spider-man."

his words hang in the air, and it takes a moment for you to process, leaving lando feeling like he's on the verge of a breakdown. completely petrified, he continues, "i understand if you don't want to see me anymore... i-"

"lando," you try to cut him off, but he's panicking, his eyes welling up, and it tugs your heart. "god, i'm so stupid," the instant regret hits him, he keeps mumbling, expressing his fear of messing everything up. it becomes too much for him, and he bursts into tears. without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, holding him as tight as you can.

"hey, you're okay. it's okay, i'm here," you softly whisper in his ear, your hand gently rubbing his back. the sound of his sobs makes your heart ache, as if it's breaking into pieces. "i'm so tired," his voice is muffled, but you can hear all the pain and exhaustion in it. your stomach tightens, feeling your own eyes burn as you try to hold back the tears.

you let him cry in your arms for a moment, letting him take it all out, whispering sweet and reassuring words in his ears. your hand hasn't left his hair, stroking it gently. you feel him finally calm down, his sobs getting quieter.

he finally decide to look up, meeting your eyes and the sight breaks your heart; his eyes are puffed and red, accentuated by his bandaged bruises. you immediately grab his face, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of empathy and affection.

"do you still want me? even if i'm spider-man," his voice is soft, and you could feel all the exhaustion in it.

"of course, lando, why wouldn't i?" you reply without any second thought, sincerity evident in your eyes, softening lando's heart.

"i don't know... i'm always late and... tired," his voice is weak and hesitant, and you wish he'd stop talking and just rest.

"you're always late, but you're always here. you always do your best to make it." you reassure him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer with a soft smile. "it's okay to be tired, especially with your life, you should never apologize for that." your hand finds its way to his hair, "even when you're tired, you find the strength to take care of me and spend time with me. and for me, that means a lot," you gently stroke his hair, comforting him.

lando's eyes remain locked onto yours, caught in the sincerity they hold, and he swears his heart could explode at any moment just from hearing your words.

"you're so good to me..." he says in a whisper, pulling you into a quick but sweet kiss that makes both of your hearts melt. "of course, you deserve it," you whisper back, stealing a other kiss. "let me finish taking care of you, and then you can finally rest." you don't give him the time to complain, pulling back to resume cleaning his wounds.

after what felt like an eternity, you finish bandaging the last wound, looking up to find an exhausted lando. he fell asleep multiple times but insisted on staying awake until you finish. without wasting a minute, you put your arm around him to help him up, struggling to guide him to the bed where he manages to use his last drops of strength to remove his pants. once he's laid on the bed, you turn around to clean up the bandages on the floor, but lando immediately stops you, pulling you down.

"don't go," he whispers, and you smile, laying beside him without any hesitation, welcomed by his warm embraced.

you gaze at the sleepy boy beside you, your fingers gently ghosting his cheek.

"thank you," he says softly, and the sincerity in his words resonates. you offer him a loving smile, putting your lips on his for a passionate kiss. you manage to pull away just in time before lando succumbs to the sandman.

in that moment, it hits you—the boy you've fallen in love with is spider-man. a proud smile spreads across your face as you look at the peacefully sleeping lando beside you.

"i'm so proud of you," you whisper, determined to repeat those words to him tomorrow and every single day after that.

_________________________________________________

tysm for reading! don't hesitate to leave a feedback if you liked it<3

[rekiilysm]

you are in love- oneshot

a/n: hi pals how r we doing today... my rent is due (metaphorically) inspo from mother's song

masterlist

-> charles leclerc x childhoodbestfriendfemale!reader (no physical description)

warnings: small teensy tiny age gap (like two years), probs some cursing, google translated french.... not proofread :(

word count: 1283 words

He can't remember the first time he met you.

Not exactly. He does know how it happens, though, as his mother constantly likes reminds him.

"You were two," Pascale muses, cutting into the pancakes she was having for breakfast.

"Maman." Charles pleads with a tinge of exasperation in his voice, having heard this story so many times.

"Charles, don't interrupt me." she shoots him playful glare as Arthur smiles behind his cup of coffee that he's sipping. It's quite obvious that he finds this entire debacle quite entertaining.

"Yes Charles," Arthur nods in mocking agreement, "I quite like this story, maman." He shoots Charles a cunning smirk as the dimples in his cheeks begin to pop out.

"Yes, as I was saying," Pascale takes a moment to gather her thoughts, "Charlie, you were only 2... but you were so gentle with her..."

Pascale goes on and on, fawning about how he was so gentle with the little baby girl, the newborn baby of his godmother, and one of his mother's dearest friends. Your name felt foreign on his tongue when he was first introduced to it, like a new word added into his little dictionary, but it was a name that he would come to know, recognise, and even love.

"Maman, I'm leaving!" Charles announces to the house after breakfast, grabbing his car keys.

"Going to see Y/N?" Pascale playfully teases.

Charles smiles so hard at the thought of you that his dimples began to crease in his cheeks. "You know it."

He drives to your flat in mostly silence, besides the roar of the Ferrari's engine, and the dreadful drone of the radio hosts over the car's stereo. Traffic is slow and congested, which should be frustrating for someone who drives at over 300 km/h on a near weekly basis, but the reward at the end of the road (which happens to be you) makes it all the more worth it.

People seem to be suspicious of your relationship, though. But it's nothng more than what it is, a purely platonic bond between two childhood, contrary to what gossip accounts or news articles say. Some of his friends don't believe him either.

Carlos simply gives him an unbelieliving smile and quirks an eyebrow, but puts the matter to rest when Charles expresses his annoyance with a roll of his viridescent eyes.

Joris constantly bugs him about it. Taunts of: "Are you sure you don't like her Charlie?", "Charlie... are you texting her?" and "Charles, fess up! Just tell me the truth, you like her!"

Frankly, he's sick and tired of it. Even if he did like you, so what? Was that really anyone's business, either way? Nevertheless, any ounce of anger he was harbouring simply dissipates into nothingness when he sees you.

You grace him with a beautiful smile when you enter his car. You greet him with kisses on his cheek and a warm hug. Through all these years, he swears that the thing he looks most forward to when he sees you is your hugs.

They're warm, like walking into a bakery with freshly baked pastries. They make him happy like a Grand Prix win.

The two of you aimlessly drive around until it was time for dinner. He brings you to his favourite pizza place, and the two of you split a pepperoni pizza.

"Don't tell my trainer about this." Charles makes you promise with a boyish smile.

"I promise." You let out a chuckle at the trivial situation at hand. Within your company, the two of you don't really need to talk a lot. Wordlessly, after knowing each other for so long, the silence says enough by itself, and is enough to make the both of you comfortable. After finishing dinner, you follow him back to his apartment. He insists for you to stay over for the night, and you don't debate it.

"Here," Charles mindlessly passes you a shirt that he no longer wears, "for you to sleep in." he clarifies. You make a noncomittal sound and give him a brief nod in response.

After you've showered, you put on his shirt, and the first thing you notice is how it smells like him. His laundry, his cologne, his shampoo... You're a little overwhelmed, but in a good way. "You're not getting this shirt back." you warn him as you come out of the shower. "Fine by me." He laughs, passing by you as he enters the bathroom.

You make yourself comfortable in his bed. You slip under the blanket, which encompasses you in a warmth which couldn't possibly be recreated at your own house. It's funny how you still feel more at home at Charles' apartment than your own.

You're still in his bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media, when he comes out of the shower. "Okay, what're we watching?" he asks as he makes himself at home on the opposite side of the bed. The two of you mutually decided on watching Cars for the billionth time. Yet, from your peripheral vision, you notice him looking at you with a foreign expression. You fake a yawn, and turn off the TV.

"Good night, Charlie." "Good night, Y/N."

He switches off the lights in his bedroom, and you make yourself comfortable.

"Y/N?" "Yes Charlie?" "You're my best friend." The statement makes you smile, and you fall asleep with a wide grin on your face.

The next morning, you wake up, and you're somehow entangled with Charles. Your legs are intertwined, his arms are carressing your waist, and your face is burried in his neck. You simply wiggle into his touch, and it makes him stir.

"Good morning." He whispers, voice raspy from sleep. "Morning." You chastely reply, voice muffled from speaking into his neck.

Much to your dismay, he untangles himself from the mess of cuddles and bedsheets. He leaves the bedroom, leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead as you fall back into the lull of sleep.

You wake up to the scent of something burning. The charred scent lingers in the air, presumably from the kitchen, so that's where you go.

"Mon coeur," my heart he croons, sheepish expression on his face, "I'm sorry. I was trying to make breakfast." He helplessly gestures at the burnt toast, which was now in the bin.

You give him a laugh. It makes his cheeks flush. He wishes that he could bottle up your laugh, keep it in a safe, and just listen to it whenever he pleased. He swears that your laugh is more beautiful than the melody of Clair de Lune, or the roar of the Tifosi during a Monza win.

"Come dance with me." Charles gives you a silly smile. "What?" You respond, furrowed eyebrows emphasising your perplextion. "C'mon!" He urges, putting classical music record onto the vinyl player.

Just then, as the two of you are dancing in his living room bright and early in the morning, he knows that he's in love with you.

He knows when you're dancing and you're smiling and you're laughing and Charles could swear that you're the most perfect thing to ever exist.

You commit the most heinous of crimes and he swears that he could defend you to the Earth and back.

He holds you in his arms, and he kisses you.

It takes you aback, just for a moment.

Then again, his lips feel perfect against yours. It's like they were made for you.

Then your lips part, and he rests his forehead against yours.

He chuckles, and he speaks against your lips, "You're mine, yeah?"

You nod, "I've always been yours."

"Damn it, I owe Joris 50 Euros." He laughs.

[rekiilysm]

bookstore girl- ln4 oneshot

a/n: inspo from this song :D

masterlist

-> lando norris x female!reader (no physical descriptions)

warnings: none really, just lando being super whipped tbh NOT PROOFREAD :(

word count: 809 words

He doesn't read.

Pratically everyone in the paddock knows that for a hard and solid fact, Lando Norris' many hobbies does not include reading.

He plays golf. He occasionally streams on Twitch. When he's really desperate, which doesn't really happen with his full plate, he bothers Max. Plus, most of the time, he's occupied with organising and planning for more Quadrant content.

But Lando's never found himself with this much free time. He's so free that he has practically no clue as to what he should do. He's travelled back home to the UK for Christmas. Now that the festive season has slowly come to its end, the streets are more dreary, lacking all the festive decorations and the cheer which once veiled the streets. Lando notices that everything is significantly less empty now, and supposes that everyone's gone back to work.

Carlos thinks that Lando is a hothead.

Lando doesn't agree. In fact, he was in such intense opposition of this opinion that he refused to speak to Carlos for two days. However, this argument is long forgotten; it did happen at least 2 years back anyway, when they were still teammates at McLaren. But Lando still remembers how Carlos recommended for him to start reading more often to hopefully get a grip of himself. He never really considered it, up until now, simply because he has the opportunity, but also because he's just come across a quaint little bookstore.

When he opens the front door, the first thing he notices is how warm it is.

Not hot, like how the Qatar Grand Prix was, but warm, like a hug from his dad. Like coming home from a 3 week long stint. He'd never been a big reader, but immediately he'd felt at home in that bookstore. He smiled back at the elderly man behind the counter, and began to browse the selection of books available.

By the time he was done, he'd decided that he would buy a few books. Just testing the waters, Lando thinks to himself. That's when he sees you for the first time. You're talking to the man at the counter.

You're postively gorgeous.

Your hair angelically frames your face. A wide grin crosses your face, but Lando swears that even with a scowl, he swears you could still look gorgeous.

He thinks that you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, and it takes every ounce of his attention to ensure that he doesn't drop the stack of books in his arms, simply stunned by your presence.

But before he can catch you, you're in wind.

The chime of the bell rings behind you as you close the door, and Lando swears that he's never been more devastated in his entire life.

He walks home, and he feels down the entire day. He didn't even manage to get your name. And yet, something as mundane as your name feels like a sacred artifact to behold. If he's even able to get your name, he swears that he'll protect it. Hold it in his hands like a fragile piece of porcelain. Shield it from the prying eyes on the public and the screaming voices of the paddock.

But no.

That isn't possible, because he doesn't even know your name.

He sleeps like a baby that night, dreaming of your face, what he'd think your voice would sound like, what he thinks that you would feel like safe in his arms, and it feels like a douse of cold water when he finally wakes up from his slumber.

His friends, Max, Carlos, Oscar... they hear of you. Non-stop. In fact, they're kind of tired of Lando, and have taken to ignoring him, because he won't stop going on and on about the beautiful girl he saw in the bookstore. They don't hear the end of it for a few hours.

By chance, 2 days later, he sees you in the cafe.

It was purely coincidental.

You'd never left Lando's mind. He did stop nagging his friends about you, mostly because they got annoyed at him, but he came back to reality with a rude awakening.

Really, how likely was it for the two of you to cross paths again? Especially in these few golden days back home, before Lando would return to Monaco.

But hey, always dream of the unthinkable, right?

You're working on your laptop, eyebrows knitted together in intense concentration. He thinks it's cute.

Lando delibrately sits to the table next to yours, and whips out one of the books he'd bought the other day from the quaint little bookstore. You briefly glance at him through your peripheral vision, before you're making a delighted expression and excitedly chatting to him about his book.

By the end of your impromptu coffee session with Lando, he's pretty sure that you were made for him.

[rekiilysm]

wanna be yours | l.h

luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke had his eyes on you from the moment you met him so, it killed him when you couldn’t take the hint that he was in love with you.

warnings: two oblivious people in love, my bad writing, mentions of a lot of drinking

a/n: someone asked for jealous and protective luke ??? say no more. feedback is appreciated ! ALSO didn’t exactly turn out how i originally thought but it’s a good start !! enjoy !!

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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there is a scene in a movie where the lead character and the love interest lock eyes.

they lose sight of everything around them, leaving just each other in focus. you never liked seeing those kinds of movies, thought it was cliche, and never believed in love at first sight. if you're being honest, it was overdone, unrealistic, and plain annoying.

but, it was fate that it would fall on you.

you didn't enjoy parties because there were too many people there, you didn't like drinking, and people were making out all over the place, some of whom were newlyweds and others who were having affairs. you hated being messy, and gatherings were messy. also, you made an effort to limit the number of your friends because you found it uncomfortable to be surrounded by so many people.

but ashton, your best friend, pleaded with you to attend this particular gathering. hours would pass, and just when you thought he had finished pleading, he would resume. so you gave in.

that’s how you found yourself at ashton's house, sitting in your car, staring at your phone, and observing the passing of time. It had been over fifteen minutes since you had first decided whether or not to do this. hearing the faint music emanating from the house, your chest felt constricted. you pushed open the car door and walked over to the home. attempting to summon the guts to enter by standing outside the front door.

when the door opened, there was a strong odor of alcohol, as well as loud music and conversation. while searching among the throng of individuals swaying their bodies against one another to find your friend, you regretted your decision to agree. when you eventually located the man after searching the kitchen, the other person standing by his side immediately caught your eye.

everything around you vanished in an instant, leaving you only able to concentrate on the man with whom you had just locked eyes. wonderfully curled hair, flawless skin, eyes the color of the sea, and just enough of his white silk shirt's buttons were undone to make you flustered. he was stunning. all of a sudden, the room contained only you and him. there was only you and him; nothing else or anyone else was important.

but you were pulled from that thought As ashton grabbed your wrist and said, "cmon!", you were jolted out of your trance-like state. ”i gotta introduce you to everyone!" the australian cheered and dragged you into the kitchen where everyone was standing; all of a sudden, you were the center of attention. you waved to the small group of people while saying, "guys, this is my amazing friend, y/n," feeling a little uncomfortable at the unexpected focus. “y/n, this is calum, michael, crystal, sierra, and luke,” ashton said as he made an introduction.

the small group of individuals exchanged smiles, and you shook hands with each person before approaching luke with a gentle "hello."

wow.

your palm touched his, you prayed he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks, and you both nodded. he was the most stunningly handsome person you had ever seen, by a long shot. ashton once again grabbed your arm away and dragged you out of the kitchen before you had a chance to continue admiring his attractiveness. while waving the group off, you glanced over your shoulder. You weren't angry with ashton since he knew you'd never tried something like this and that you were making a big step by doing so. he also needed a reason to prove to his buddies that you were real and an important part of his life.

at night's end, you were sitting in ashton's backyard, lounging around the pool, admiring the reflection as lights danced across the water of the pool. even though roughly half of the people left, music continued to play. people said he would always throw the nicest parties, and now you understood why. but you simply weren't made for this situation; you were too uncomfortable and worn out from engaging with everyone for so long. You simply wanted to return home, binge-watch your favorite movie in the coziness of your bed, and eat some frozen pizza.

the word "hey" surprised you and made you flinch just a little. your eyes landed on the person standing above you, holding one cup while concealing the other in his pocket. luke apologized for the quick response, "oh, sorry, i thought you heard me," but you just shook your head. you shrugged and turned to face the swimming pool, saying, "no, it's alright, was just thinking." there was a little period of silence since neither of you knew exactly what to say. you had just recently met. “do you want a drink?” he asked. “oh, no thanks,” you said as you once again looked up at him. “i'm not really a drinker.” the blonde let out a gentle laugh. "but you came a party?" while scratching your forehead, you chuckled alongside him. “well, ashton is a push-“ over. yeah. that he is," luke continued your sentence and you laughed. “i think i’m heading home now, im way too tired to stay much longer”. you got out of the lawn chair facing luke.

his mind began racings, he didn’t want the conversation to end just yet. he had to think of something so he could see you more. “do you need a ride?”

your hands were crossed, and your eyes darted back to his and then to the cup in his grasp. "thanks for the offer, but I just live ten minutes away," you said. he extended his hand to you after giving you a nod and pulling it from his pocket. “it was lovely meeting you, y/n,” “you too, luke”

you had no intention of seeing luke again after that. you had your friend group, ashton had his own, and you happened to be a part of both. you had no intention of ever returning to another party unless you absolutely had to be there; that atmosphere wasn't for you. it was too much for you, and you just wished ashton would be more considerate of your decision. you knew he wanted you around; you'd been best friends since high school, and it was difficult for you both to have separate lives.

but fate had something else in store for you.

it was subtle when you first became aware of his presence. you ran into him a few times in town, which wasn't unusual. but then he'd show up at your job, or he'd find his way into the same restaurant you were in. it was amusing at first because what are the chances you'd keep meeting like this?

so you confronted him one day. “you know, if you keep this up you’ll have to take me out for coffee” you started, putting down the record you pick up. this was one of the many times you had run into luke while running errands. this time, the both of you ended up in a local record store. you heard him chuckle softly before turning to you, “are you asking me out on a date?” he leans against the shelf raising his eyebrow. you shrug, “more like telling you to take me out” he nods, leaning in closer. “i see..then i guess i’ll see you tomorrow?”

you and luke are two opposites but somehow you two hit it off

he drinks while you don’t.

despite your differences, you detested parties, and luke's life was spent drinking; not you. you've never thought that opposites attract. yet it was odd because as time went on, you discovered that you were rather similar. you and luke had a lot in common, and you got along just well. it was never dull or tiring since the two of you could converse for as long as it took, even until the sun rose. you frequently found yourself stranded in ashton's or calum's backyard, relaxing on the chairs after talking until the wee hours of the morning like you were adolescents.

each time the two of you are in close contact, there is tension. You adored the quiet glances you two shared. It was much more enjoyable because it seemed as though the two of you were barred from being together.

It was never meant to go this far. You'd been hanging out with Luke for quite some time. you've been wanting to be with him every other day for at least a few months now, waiting for his texts or calls saying he wanted to hang out or if he found a new restaurant he thinks you'd like. or the way he'd subconsciously hold the small of you back while leading you through a crowded area, or how he'd always go out of his way to make sure you got home safely.

it was never supposed to escalate this quickly.

you found yourself wanting to hang out with him even more, wondering if Luke would be there when ashton asked you to hang out. You started thinking about him all the time.

that's when it started getting more complicated. you knew something between you changed after being with him so long. and although you knew how it changed you, you were too scared to jeopardize anything between you not when it was fresh.

truthfully, you just displayed to him, that you'd always be available. you could say no to anyone who had ever asked you out because of your newfound feelings for luke. but you couldn't tell him that, it was too soon. but even then, you couldn't get the sound of his laugh out of your mind, or the way your name rolled off his tongue like it was meant to be there. you couldn't stop picturing what it would be like to lay in his arms, limbs tangled together as he sang you the sweetest lullaby.

unknown to you, luke made an effort to avoid you in the beginning because he knew he couldn't control himself with you. no matter how hard he tried to hide himself from you or push you away, you always managed to find a way into his head like an addictive substance. as you were the most gorgeous person he had ever seen, he wanted to shield you from all harm and evil in the world and would do whatever it took to ensure that everyone knew the two of you belonged together.

but, did you know that?

you began to watch him from then on, looking for clues that could point you in the right direction. you'd noticed him fiddling with his rings, then grazing over the leg of his jeans or joggers, slipping his hand between you on the couch. his hand would inch across the seat, pausing now and then. then he'd retreat without much thought, preferring to rest his hand on his thigh rather than bother with yours.

nothing would have made you happier than to come across his hand. any action would be preferable to simply waiting for him to take the initiative and pleading with your eyes as if it would help. you contemplated inviting him over, striking up a conversation, or even touching his hand. Instead, you remained silent despite your strong desire to speak but your inability to do so.

you have no idea how or why you began to feel more confident around luke; you were the shy and reserved friend before meeting him, but you changed completely after meeting him. and you knew people would judge you for it, saying things like, "oh, i can't believe you'd changed yourself for a guy!" however, this was not the case. he made you feel something that you couldn't put into words. maybe he inspired you to be someone you've never been before.

you were standing outside ashton's door, picking at your nails, debating whether this was a good idea. you were dressed differently than usual, wearing a tight dress with a large leather jacket over it to try to hide your body.

something like this was extremely unusual for you, and you may have been an idiot to dress like this for a man who probably only thought of you as a friend. but it had to be worth a shot, right?

you let yourself in, the music was blaring and the pungent smell of liquor was all too familiar to you. you pushed through the people and eventually got to ashton’s living room where everyone else was. they all cheered and greeted you.

ashton hugged you first and said a bunch of drunk incoherent words about how happy he was to see you. then you greeted luke with a warm while which he reciprocated. “happy birthday luke” you said, he nodded. “thank you, y/n”.

after the small reunion, the group dissolved. everyone was off doing their own thing. you found yourself standing outside, a cup in your hand filled with whatever you found. the night air was a bit chilly which caused you to curse at yourself mentally for wearing such a short dress.

“you look nice.” luke’s voice rang as he came up behind you. You looked over your shoulder and spotted him. “thanks.” you smiled, and he raised his eyebrow. “you dress up that pretty for me?” he was standing next to you now, his comment and proximity were enough to make you blush. “and what if i did?” you retorted. luke smirked, “i’d be thankful because you look so good in that dress.”

he leaned closer, keeping eye contact with you.

he was so close to you that your heart began to beat quickly. you were attempting to read him while his eyes were staring right through you. there are two possible outcomes here. one of two things will happen: either someone will interrupt you like in a cliché movie, or he has the ideal opportunity to kiss you right now.

he leans in even closer, saying, "i'd even say that you should start dressing like this too, it suits you." you felt the blood rush to your cheeks.

kiss me. please. just do it

you wanted him to make the first move because this moment had the chance to change everything. you didn't want to appear so desperate. luke must have noticed your begging expression because he started leaning in again, this time only a few centimeters from your lips.

oh, god. it’s happening. it’s happen-

“come on man, it's time for you to open your presents!" michael interrupted the situation by shouting from the kitchen. you sighed as you saw luke leave. you could almost sense the disappointment in his eyes as he turned to look at you to check if you were following him.

“okay, and it seems the last one is from….y/n!” michael and calum handed over the large box to luke.

luke unwrapped the box, displaying the guitar case as you watched. he looked perplexed as he tried to imagine what you may have given him. the one guitar he had been dreaming about was waiting for him when he opened the case. "y/n.." He takes the guitar in his hands and places it on his lap.

everyone who was gathered around him suddenly turned to look at you. he is the last one to do so.

"you bought this?" He asks, and you nod while beaming broadly. he had never looked so startled to you. how did you know, exactly? “how…how did you?” he trailed off.

"well, you talked about it for so long, and occasionally i caught you looking it up. so i thought, why not get it for you?“ you responded.

luke stood up and hurried to you after putting the red guitar back in its case. you were engulfed by his arms, spinning you. "im grateful. I have never gotten a present better than that. I promise i’ll treasure it” he smiles, “i know you will luke”.

and for the rest of the night, everything went great. until it didn’t.

"y/n," ashton said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"hm?" he had a mischievous smile on his face as you dropped your phone to your lap. "have you ever tried playing the drums?" "no?" you shook your head. It came out as a question as if you were asking yourself a question. "why?" he approached you and reached for your wrist. "you're about to!"

ashton was perched on the stool and sat you down on his lap, having handed you his drumsticks and demonstrated how to hold them properly as his hands caressed yours. he explained that he would only have you play a simple beat. he taught you the basics and then let you play a few beats on your own. you didn't notice how close ashton was, how his breath tickled your spine, or how delicately his hand held yours.

you two were laughing because you couldn't play because you had almost no rhythm. "this is exactly why you guys are musicians," you laughed, rising from ashton's lap and returning his sticks. "nah, practice enough and you'll get good enough to join the band," he winked.

luke watched the scene unfold in front of him, how close ashton was, the way he eyed you like you were some kind of prey. his hand was supporting his chin, his elbow was resting on the couch arm, and his jaw was locked. luke began tapping his finger impatiently against his cheek, were you so oblivious? everyone was making moves toward you, and you didn't even look at him? he pushed himself off the sofa and out of the room to get some fresh air. if he was in there any longer he would explode.

he hated the fact that, despite your lack of effort, you had him in your grasp. luke hated how near the guys were to you and how they treated you like they were hunting prey. how did you not notice how they eyed you? how the other boys treated you like some kind of object. especially ashton.

we’re you so oblivious to their advances? did you not see how luke wanted to rip you away from them and keep you all to himself?

did you even notice his attempts to try and win you?

He wanted the world to know how badly he wanted you, how you were his, and that despite his best efforts to deny it, he was falling in love with you. Luke had difficulty accepting it, but he would go to the ends of the earth for you.

“what was that about?” you ask, after watching luke exit the room. calum shrugged, “who knows. it’s luke” he didn’t look at you as he was nose deep in his phone. you looked around the room, everyone seemed not interested. “he probably left because ashton was feeling you up” someone added. you huffed, grabbed your jacket, and walked outside to the patio.

you saw his silhouette and walked up to him. “luke?” he didn’t respond and you walked closer. “lu?” you spoke the nickname you had given him. he finally turned back to look at you.

you saw that look in his eyes, the only look he had when looking at you. “luke, what’s going on? why’d you walk out like that? did i do something wrong?” his back was still turned to you, refusing to look at you. “you just don’t get it, do you?” he still wouldn’t face you. “get what, luke? the fact that you’re ignoring me in front of everyone and leaving me in the dark.” you were feeling frustrated, upset that he wouldn’t even look at you. “god, luke, just look at me!” you grabbed his arm, spinning him around so he’d have to look at you now.

“talk to me.” you pleaded. your eyes begging as you stared into his blue eyes. luke hated it, he hated how you had him in the palm of your hand ready to do anything for you if you’d just say the words. he detested that no matter how hard he tried, it would always be you. “oh, baby,” his hand caressed your cheek. “don’t make me spell it out for you…you know i want you”

“what?” you were only able to mutter, feeling the heat take over your face. maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it just was the fact that he said those words. you opened your mouth to say something but he cut you off. “every fucking day, I wish you were mine- every single goddamned day.”

you removed his hand from your cheek, silently missing his touch. “how was i supposed to know you felt more for me than just a friend, lu?” you saw his brows furrow. “you never explicitly told me, you wanted me..why?” you trailed off, you watched as he tried to come up with an explanation. “you never, ever, use your words like.”

you watched as he examined your face. you were mad but calm. it scared him, we’re you about to reject him? “for someone who writes songs for his job, he would be able to express his feelings freely. i guess not.”

“how did you expect me to decipher the hundred different ways you look in my direction? this isn’t just on me yknow. luke goes quiet, his eyes looking deeper into your eyes than before.

“i thought my actions would say all they needed to” you reply, “i thought you were just acting as a friend? you and all the guys act the same” luke locks his jaw, balling his fits by his side. “they act that way because they want to fuck you y/n.” you look taken aback legging out a scoff.

“so what about you, then?” “what about me?” “are you acting this way because you want to fuck me?” you smirk as luke realizes he backed himself into a corner.

“i—no? that’s not what—fuck.” he runs his hand through his hair. “let me start over. y/n, i’m sorry i wasn’t honest and i’m sorry i didn’t use my words. but i want you more than a friend should and i need to know, do you want me that way too?” you try to hide your smile while you step closer and wrap your arms around his neck. “see now was that so hard?”

he looks down at you, raising his eyebrow. “you didn’t answer the question.” you let the smile take over fully. “luke hemmings i have been tripping over my feet since the day we first met. yes, i very much want you too.”

he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, allowing him to peck your lips. “i was hoping you’d say that”

(and you can predict the end u filthy ppl<3)

[rekiilysm]

Pictured.

Summary: hi, i loved just you!! i was wondering if you could write more about conrad and the reader being so in love that never stops. like maybe flash forward to out of college to when he proposes, then their wedding day when he cries seeing her walk down the isle? and then when they have their first child and name her after susannah 🥺 sorry if that’s super detailed

Authors Note: This is the fluffiest thing ever but I hope you love it, it was so fun to write thank you so much for your request <3

“Hello darling!”

You jump a little at the words, tilting your head back against the couch to see Conrad, “I didn’t even hear you come home!”

He grins and leans down to kiss you, your lips upside down against his, “I like the element of surprise.”

You hum in agreement and turn your head back to the task at hand.

“What are you doing?” He asks, throwing his keys down onto the dish on the fireplace before turning back to you and the mess in front of you.

“I’m trying to be organised,” You grimace a little, “But I keep getting distracted.”

“Oh my god!” Conrad laughs, sitting down on the couch beside you, “Where did you find all of these?”

He looks down at the coffee table full of photos littered in piles yet to be formed, one’s passing the decade that you’d been together.

“We look so young,” He chuckles at a photo of one of your first dates when you were only 16, the two of you grinning at the disposable camera.

“I don’t think I look any different,” You joke, brushing your finger over the youthful faces.

Conrad scoffs, “We aged well, I’d say.”

“Oh absolutely we did,” You lean your head into his shoulder, reaching forward to grab another photo, “Look at this one.”

“Wow, god, I remember this day,” Conrad beams at the photo, “It was the day we moved out of college.”

—— 5 Years Ago ——

“Alright, you’ve cleared the kitchen, I’ve done the bathroom, bedroom is done…” Conrad looks around at the space checking for anything that you’ve missed, “I think we’re good.”

It was today that the two of you would be moving out of college. For the past three years you’d been here in Stanford together after Conrad transferred and it had been a dream. You’d lived separately on campus at first and then for the last two years lived in an apartment just a short walk away, a bit of solitude for the two of you. He went to his classes and you went to yours, you came back for lunch together or met on campus and then sat in the library together when you weren’t in class. He brought you coffee when you needed to study for finals and you bought him cheeseburgers when he had his to study for. You cooked on weekdays and he cooked on weekends when he had more time to cook something fancy. You worked a job on campus and he worked a few evenings. It worked. Everything had felt like bliss for the past few years.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Conrad frowns at you, setting down the box in his hands to walk over to where you were sat down on the empty mattress.

“This just feels so weird,” You mumble, glancing around at the empty shelves where your photo frames used to stand.

Conrad nods, “Yeah, yeah it does feel weird. Good weird.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Do you think?”

Your eyes are filling with tears and you’re fighting what you can to keep them back.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Conrad crouches down in front of you and places one hand on your leg, the other cupping the side of your face, “Don’t get upset, honey.”

“It’s just,” You let out a shaky breath, “I’m not ready to leave all of this.”

“Okay, we’re graduating, we’re moving, things are going to change. But that’s not a bad thing. God, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. Isn’t that exciting?” He smiles at you brightly, “We’ve been waiting for this since we first started college. Just you and me.”

You smile down and him and press your hand against his on your cheek, wrapping your fingers around his, “Doesn’t it scare you?”

He nods his head, “Of course. I’m terrified. But in the best way.”

You laugh a little and he brushes his thumb under your eyes before any tears have fallen.

“Now, I was going to wait before I told you,” He leans back a little and reaches into his pocket, “But I think this seems like the right time.”

You frown a little as you watch him, your heart fluttering.

“So, you know how we’d decided on living with your parents for a while until we figured out where to go next…” He takes a deep breath, “Well, you can tell them they don’t need to worry.”

“Wh-“ You let out a breath, “What do you mean?”

“Someone might’ve told me something about a little house in Cousins being free now that Jeremiah’s moving out…” He brings his hand in front of you and a distinct key lays in his palm.

“The beach house?” You exclaim, eyes wide.

“Jere’s moving closer to Belly for now until she graduates and then they think they’ll settle in Boston and come to Cousins for the summer, like we used to. So…”

“The house is yours?” You finish for him, words almost escaping you.

“It’s ours,” Conrad confirms, his face brightening.

“Oh my god!” You squeal, your hands flying to grip his shoulders, “You got us a house! You got us the beach house!”

Conrad chuckles, “Yeah, I did!”

You wrap your arms around him tightly and bury your face against his neck, breathing in the scent that would always be home to you. The two of you stand up together and he spins you around in the small space you had between boxes, before lowering you down and pressing the key into your palm.

“We might just have to set up the spare bedrooms for summer, I think we’ll have some regular visitors,” He shrugs, his arms around your waist.

You giggle, “That’s perfect, it’s all...”

“The start of the rest of our lives, darling.”

——Present Day——

“That’s when this place was officially ours,” You point out, the photo in your hands showing the two of you grinning with the key in your hand.

“Yeah, it was a long time coming,” Conrad chuckles, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm.

“I was so scared to graduate college, and now look at us,” You shake your head, “I had nothing to worry about.”

“There’s still time,” Conrad jokes and you jab him in the side.

“Oh my god! Look at this one!” You beam, “The fourth of July.”

“Yeah there was something important about the 4th that year…” Conrad smirks, taunting you.

“Yeah what could that be?” You roll your eyes.

He moves his fingers down to the thin silver chain around your neck where a single ring hung down like a pendant near your heart.

“God, I loved that day.”

—— 4 Years Ago ——

“Jere how many fireworks does one house need?” You look down at the boxes he’s carrying into the house, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Oh, come on, it’s the fourth,” Jeremiah grins, glancing at his brother, “I’ve got reason to celebrate.”

“I tried telling him it was too many,” Belly laughs as she walks in behind him, carrying a couple of bags of groceries.

“Oh you’re a lifesaver!” You smile, taking one of the bags from him, “I can’t believe I forgot so much.”

“It’s the stress of hosting,” Belly jokes, “But I’ve got you covered, I think this is everything.”

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just need to figure out how to make everything like Susannah would do.”

This was your first fourth of July hosting in this house - the first since the house had officially been yours and Conrad’s home. It would just be the six of you, the three couples - you and Con, Jere and Belly, and Steven and Taylor.

“She’d be impressed either way,” Belly squeezes your shoulder, “I’ll go help Jere set up outside.”

“Thank you,” You smile and see Conrad coming in through the door behind her.

“Hello darling,” He presses a kiss to your temple, “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“No, no, I’ve got it here,” You encourage, “Maybe you could just set up Steven and Taylor’s room?”

“It’s going to be perfect,” He reassures you, squeezing your hand, “It’ll be a Fourth of July to never forget!” He yells back to you as he disappears upstairs.

You giggle and turn back to finishing up the plates of food you were preparing for the evening.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. There was always a sort of magic to having the fourth here, and you wanted to replicate it for them all even without Susannah here - especially now the house was yours.

—

When evening falls over the house, you’ve relaxed away from the fear of hosting. The food went down well, everyone was impressed, and the magic of the fourth that you were used to had managed to remain.

You were now all outside waiting to watch the fireworks start over the water.

“Hey, um, do you want to come with me a second?” Conrad asks you, standing up from his seat and outstretching a hand.

“Wh- don’t you want to watch the fireworks?” You frown a little at him.

“We won’t miss them, I promise,” He smiles down at you, “Come on.”

You take his hand and hear the faint whispering of Taylor and Belly behind you as Conrad leads you across the grass and down towards the wooden dock.

“What are we doing Con?” You ask as he squeezes your hand a little tighter.

“I just thought we could have a minute, just us,” He comments but you can sense something slightly off about his demeanour, something that wasn’t completely Conrad.

“Are you going to throw me in the water?” You narrow your eyes at him, “Because I-“

“I just-“ He stops himself, “Sorry.”

“What’s going on Con?” You laugh a little at him, “You’re scaring me now.”

“I don’t know how to start this,” He lets out a shaky breath, “Um…” He presses a hand to his chest.

“Con,” You place your hand over his, “Its me.”

He visibly settles, relaxing against your touch.

“I don’t know where to-“ He stops himself, “I love you (y/n).”

You feel it then. The feeling people described. Knowing what was about to come and yet not ready to prepare for it.

“And I love our life together, and I love the person I am because of you and-“ He lets himself laugh gently, “God, I just… I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you and so-“

“Oh my god,” You mumble as you watch him pull a small velvet box from his pocket, lowering down onto one knee.

He looks up at you and takes a deep breath, “(y/n) (y/l/n) will you make me the happiest man in the world an-“

“Yes!” You exclaim your hands flying to your face as tears pool in your eyes.

Conrad grins wildly and rises up onto his feet, wrapping one arm around you as the other hand reaches for yours to slot the delicate ring onto your finger.

He cups a hand to your cheek and presses a deep kiss to your lips, both of you laughing over spilling tears.

Before you can find the words, the fireworks start around you and the sky lights up into a shower of gold fireworks over the both of you.

“You didn’t let me say it,” Conrad says in your ear over the exploding sound.

“I couldn’t wait,” You laugh in return, holding him tightly against you.

“Will you marry me (y/n)?” He pulls back far enough from you to speak, eyes flicking between yours.

“Yes I will Conrad Fisher,” You beam and he grins brighter than ever before, wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you around.

Steven and Jere cheer loudly from down by the water and Taylor and Belly scream in unison from the house, all of them applauding you for the inevitable perfection of this moment - more fireworks releasing into the air to make it even more picturesque.

And in that moment, you’re sure you’ll never feel more content.

This was it. This was everything.

—— Present Day ——

He laughs and wraps his arms tighter around you, “I like looking at all of these, what else do we have?”

“Well, this whole album is full of wedding photos,” You stretch over to pick up the detailed cream photo album, “This is the one Laurel bought us.”

It was a wedding present from the woman that was like a second Mom to both of you. She told you the memories would be more important than anything else about your day and told you to make the most of all of it being captured. It was a cream leather decorated in lace patterns with a thin bow across the front, another sheer ribbon tying the two covers together.

“Come on,” He takes the album from you and shifts on the couch so that his back is against the armrest.

You move so that you’re sat between his legs with your back against his chest and he moves his arms around either side of you to look at the album. Before he opens it, his hand comes up beside yours and locks your fingers together, both of your wedding rings settling next to each other like they were made to fit.

He opens the cover and the memories come flooding back once again, every piece of your perfect day.

—— 3 Years Ago ——

“Oh my god I’m so nervous I think I’m going to be sick,” You breathe out, pressing a hand to your chest to try to relieve the pressure there.

“Girl, you have nothing to be worried about,” Taylor encourages, fixing a few strands of your hair.

“Has anyone heard from Con? Is he okay? Is he here?” You ask frantically, checking your appearance in the mirror once again.

“That boy has been head over heels in love with you since you were sixteen, of course he’s here, and he’s probably as nervous as you are,” Belly encourages, her bridesmaids dress matching to Taylor’s in a sage green.

“But, if it helps, Steven just texted me to confirm,” Taylor comments, showing you her phone.

“God, I don’t even know why I’m nervous,” You shake your head, “It’s Conrad.”

“And (Y/n) Fisher has a nice ring to it,” Belly grins, “Are you ready to do this?”

You turn around and nod your head, breathing deeply as you look over your appearance in the mirror once more. You’d opted for a simple dress, fitted at the top with thin straps, flowing loose around your legs and poking at the floor in a small train. It was the only dress you’d looked at and seen yourself in.

The girls walk down first, ahead of you. And then you - walking down the aisle alongside your father.

He links his arm with yours and you hold on tightly as the doors open and you both step through.

So many people and all you can focus on is him.

The music starts and you start to walk, at the exact moment that Conrad turns around.

His suit is perfected from top to bottom, crisp white shirt against his black tuxedo. His hands are behind his back and you watch him squeezing them together to alleviate his nerves. But as his eyes fall on you, cool blue orbs calming yours, everything else just disappears.

You watch as his bottom lip trembles a little and he breaks into a small smile, a tear slipping down his cheek. You shake your head a little at him, the thought slipping into your mind that he promised you he wouldn’t cry, knowing him crying was only going to set you off.

Soon enough, you reach the end of the aisle and your father kisses your cheek quickly, reaching over to shake Conrad’s hand.

And then it’s just you and him. And the seventy people all watching you. But they didn’t matter. It was just him.

“Hi,” He mumbles, reaching down to hold your hand as your fingers lace with his.

“Hi,” You return, looking into his eyes for the home they always brought, “I’m so nervous,” You whisper.

“Hey, it’s me,” He responds, an echo of your own words from only a year before.

“It’s us,” You whisper once more, squeezing his hand before the two of you turn your attention to the ceremony about to begin, your ceremony.

—— Present Day ——

“I love this one,” Conrad points out a photo of the two of you, one from the evening of the wedding where his arm is around you and you’re laughing at something someone behind the camera had said, and all he can do is look at you - focus on you.

Before you can respond, the sound of crackling starts on the monitor before faint whinging breaks through the speaker.

“She’s up!” You smile, “Give me a sec-“

“No, I’ve got her,” Conrad squeezes your shoulders and pushes himself to stand up, letting you lean back against the arm of the sofa.

He disappears upstairs and you hear the bedroom door creak open followed by his bright voice at the sight in front of him.

You set down the wedding album and pull up a pile of more recent photos, all ones from the last eighteen months - the craziest and most content eighteen months of your life so far.

“Should we go and see Mummy?” Conrad’s voice speaks softly as he comes down the stairs, “She’s downstairs, yeah.”

As he steps back into the lounge, the small body on his hip wriggles down from his grip and runs over to you.

“Look who’s awake!” You grin as your daughter hurries over to the side of the couch.

You reach over and lift her up to sit on your lap, her teddy bear still tucked under her arm.

“Did you have a good nap?” You ask her and she nods tiredly.

“Daddy’s home,” Her little voice mumbles, fatigue still lacing her tone.

“Yeah, he came home early today,” You smile and Conrad walks around to take up his place on the couch once again.

Him against the arm rest, you against his chest and your daughter in front of you.

“Do you want to look through some photos with us?” Conrad raises his brows at her excitedly and she nods back at him again, her bear tugged tightly to her chest.

“I think you’re in these ones,” You mention and her eyes brighten widely.

Conrad picks up one of the photos and shows her, “Well look who it is!”

—— 1 Year Ago ——

“She’s perfect, darling,” Conrad beams down at the tiny face in front of him, held tightly in your arms and wrapped in a small pink blanket.

“She’s ours,” You whisper in return, leaning against his chest from where he was perched on the edge of your hospital bed.

“I don’t know how you did that,” He laughs quietly, both of you refusing to speak too loudly to disturb the miniature pair of ears.

“I don’t either,” You joke, and he wraps one arm around your shoulders, one of his fingers brushing over her fragile hands.

Before you can say anything else, the door opens and two familiar faces come through. Belly and Jere.

“Hey…” Jeremiah hisses, “They said we were okay to come in.”

“Yeah, come in man,” Conrad grins, standing up to greet them, “It’s so good to see you guys.”

The brothers both grasp each other in a hug that echoes every ounce of pride they shared before Conrad greets Belly with a warm hug too.

“We brought you some presents,” Belly comments, setting down a powder pink gift bag onto the bedside table.

“Thanks guys,” Conrad smiles, taking up his place next to you again.

“So, have you thought of a name for this little one yet?” Jeremiah asks, smiling brightly at both of you.

You exchange a glance with Conrad before nodding at him as if in encouragement for him to say.

“Yeah, actually,” He takes a deep breath, looking down at his daughter, “This is Darcie Susannah Fisher.”

Belly gasps, “Oh, it’s perfect.”

“Darcie Susannah,” Jeremiah repeats, tears building in his eyes, “I… Mom would be so proud.”

Conrad leans down to take the bundle of pink from your arms, holding her cautiously in his grip before turning to his brother, “Well, Uncle Jeremiah, do you want to hold your niece?”

—— Present Day ——

“Who’s that Darcie?” Conrad points at a photo from when she’d first come home, laying with the same teddy bear that she still refused to ever let out of her sight.

“Me!” She exclaims, tapping excitedly at the small face on the photo.

“It is you,” You chuckle in return, “And here’s you with uncle Jeremiah when we took you to the beach.”

She claps at the sight of Jeremiah on the page, who has self proclaimed himself as the favourite uncle.

“Do you want a snack Darcie?” You ask her calmly, holding her in your arms to focus her short attention on you.

Your daughter nods back, her small smile making her look like the spitting image of her father. He always told you that she reminded him of you, but she was almost exactly like her father in your eyes. To everyone else, she was an exact mix of the two - an addition to the two that were meant to find each other.

“I’ll get it,” Conrad assures you, stepping back up from the couch.

“Oh isn’t Daddy good?” You grin at Darcie, tickling under her arms as she laughs under your touch, her giggle echoing in your ears.

Conrad stops in his tracks, looking down at the sight in front of him. His tiny version of perfection in a vast world. You, him, his daughter. This house. This family. This home. This everything. He’s sure he’ll never be happier, but still so sure that this happiness will never fade. This was everything and it always would be.

“Daddy!” Darcie exclaims, making grabby hands towards him.

“What are you doing?” You laugh a little at his frozen state, the way he seems so stopped in his tracks.

“I’m…” He chuckles, “I love you.”

Conrad leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, taking Darcie from your arms and hitching her onto his hip, chattering away to her as the two disappear into the kitchen.

You grin, standing up from the couch with a photo of the three of you in your hands. You rummage through the drawers to find a spare photo frame and slip the photo into place, fixing the clasps around the back before setting the photo frame onto a free place on the fireplace.

Conrad and Darcie come back in, with a small bowl of popcorn for her and a bigger one for you and him.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, setting Darcie down onto her playmat.

You turn around and smile at him, “I love you too.”