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cheriladycl01 · 4 months

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Best Secret Santa - The Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: in which everyone wants to have Y/N as their secret Santa because she is the best gift giver and never fails to make peoples day by going above and beyond for it!

Credit to f1-stuff for the GIF

2017

“So Y/N this is the first year of Secret Santa, how excited are you!” The F1 interviewer asks!

“I’m so excited! I love gift gifting it’s one of my love languages to show people that I know them, and I listen to them!”

“Okay are you ready to open your gift then?” She asks pushing forward a small bag that had presents wrapped up very nicely inside. You take the bag and look at the wrapping paper, it was well wrapped and good quality.

You open the first which feels as if it could be a wooden box but doesn’t really indicate what it could be.

You see that you were correct and a wooden box with your favourite paint brand is there on the top. You unclip the clasp that’s holding the lid down seeing the various paints.

“Oh this is a good present, but not many people know that I paint on the grid.

“Who knows you paint in the grid?” She asks you.

“Hmmm Romain Grosjean, K Mag, Kimi”

“So do you think it could be one of them?”

“Maybe… potentially Kimi, he knows me very well and has really helped me as a Red Bull Junior Driver and in my Rookie Year this Year”

“I think if you open the second present you’ll know who your secret Santa is” she explains and you take the second present of the table, it was pretty weighty but not as heavy as the paints.

“This feels like a book, like a hard back” you say as you start to tear into it. And it was, it was the Romain Grosjean book.

“It’s Romain!! He’s my Secret Santa?” You look at the F1 with a massive wide grin making her smile back at her!

“Wait, come with me” she becons the lady and camera crew to follow her. She walks through the building they are all in, in Abu Dhabi until she finds Romain.

“Romain, Romain wait up wait up” you shout running after him making the camera crew follow!

“Ahhh i see you received my gift!” He exclaims and she pulls him into a thankful hug.

“Please can you sigh it Mr Grosjean, I’m a huge fan of your work in Haas!” You exclaim, handing him a pen making him chuckle but still sign the book he gifted to you!

“Thank you for you time” you giggle before the cameras cut, and they decide to do Romains secret Santa while he is there.

*Flip*

“And now we are here with Lewis Hamilton who we’ve interrupted from getting ready for his Mercedes After Party for his 4 time world championship” the F1 lady smiles at Lewis Hamilton and he kindly smiles back.

“So your Secret Santa went all out, we’ve had to set the cameras a little further back and you’ve got some sizeable gifts here but they requested you read the card first”

“Holy shit” Lewis says as they start to bring in a huge box (big enough to fit the likes of Toto Wolff inside) followed by a smaller bag to the left that had three neatly wrapped presents inside.

“Who, what the fuck” Lewis says looking at the camera as if he was on the office. He looks at the F1 presenter who just shrugs her shoulders and waits for him to open the card.

“Dear Lewis, Here are 4 gifts to commemorate your 4 World Championships! Have a great winter season, and here’s to many more championships ahead! Love, Your Secret Santa” he reads seeing the little doodles inside the card.

“Any ideas on who it could be” she asks.

“No clue, everyone on the grid would know how many championships I’ve won, so this doesn’t give away much” he offers with a laugh. He grabs the bag wanting to leave the big present till last.

“Ohhh a Vegan Cook book, so they know I’m Vegan and a Japan Fridge Magnet. Okay so this is either Max or Y/N as they shared a podium with me, I’m sure off it!” He grins before taking the next present out the bag.

“What is this” he says unwrapping a rather small but oddly shaped present.

“Oh that’s so cute it’s a Dog Collar for Roscoe! Wait, holy shit it’s personalised from Dior. Surely this can’t be Max, is it Max?” He asks and the F1 presenter just shrugs.

“Thank you, this honestly is very thoughtful as Roscoe is one of my favourite things and I love the brand and wear it all the time!” He grins.

“Okay, how about we attempt to open this bigger present. I don’t actually know how you’ll get this through customs”

“I’m scared to see what it is” Lewis laughs before tearing the box open. Inside is a surfboard that is hand painted on either side with Lewis car and many other little doddles to cover the board that has something to do with Lewis.

“Oh woah a custom made board, this must have been really expensive to have made” he says observing it before picking out all the different doodles and talking about them.

“It’s not custom made, your Secret Santa actually Hand Painted this themselves” Lewis head snaps away from the board to look at the presenter in shock.

“Oh it’s got to be Y/N”

“That is correct”

“Y/N you are the cutest. I will use this board today here in Abu Dhabi before I make good use of it in the off season! I’ve never actually had anything like this before so thank you so much, you are so very thoughtful and you have the kindest soul! Thank you for everything and I hope to share a podium with you in 2018” he smiles grinning before turning his attention back to the surfboard.

2018

“Hello Y/N it is now November 2018, after the final Grand Prix of the 2018 season. So you know what time that is!” The F1 presenter asks.

“SECRET SANTA!” You scream, pulling forward the presents, there was a medium sized box in front of you.

“Can I start”

“Of course”

You pulled the lid of the box off and immediately gasp at the first thing that isn’t wrapped that you can see what it is!

“Oh my lord, how - I’ve been needing new camera lenses and a case for mine! I take pictures of everyone around the paddock! So it could be anyone, but I was talking to Max, Pierre and Dani about needing new lenses …” you admit looking to see if the F1 presenter would give you a reactionary hint.

“Oh and there’s a small envelope. I hope you enjoy this retreat with your new lenses, maybe gain a new perspective before 2019” you read out before out of the envelope you pull out flight tickets, and a small cabin hotel booking confirmation for Italy.

“No no no stop this is too much” you say tears filling up in your eyes.

“Who do you think it is” the F1 presenter asks.

“It’s Dani Ric” you cry, the words coming out strained as you look around to see if he is watching you.

“How’d you know” she asks.

“Because we had a talk about how I felt shit about this season and that the Torro Rosso wasn’t built well this year. And how him leaving Red Bull wasn’t an easy choice but it was one he had to make” you sob. The presenter comes over and pull you into a comforting hug rubbing your back and you hug into her more.

“Hey Squirt” an Australian accent comes from behind you and you fling yourself off the presenter and turn to look at the reason for your tears.

“You made me cry on camera” you say pointing to the camera and then your gifts.

“Aw I’m glad you like them! I was worried I hadn’t done well enough!” He grins rubbing your head before pulling you into a tight hug.

“I love them! And I’ll do better next year for you! I promise” you smile and he grins back at you!

*Flip*

“Hello Charles, how are you!”

“I am very good thank you. I see that there is a lot of presents here, all varying in size and it worries me. This is my first year and I don’t know many people that well!” He says looking between all the presents.

“Well here’s the card that came with it” she says passing over the red envelope that he opens the second his gets his hands on it.

“Dear Charlie, hmmm there’s not many that call me Charlie. Amazing first year in Alfa Romeo, can’t wait to see what you do in Ferrari” he reads out thinking of who it could be.

“It’s Y/N for sure. Between the amount of presents here and the note saying Charlie it must be her!” He exclaims before tearing into his first present. There were Alfa Romeo socks, with little jelly snake candies.

“Ah to remember my time in Alfa Romeo, these Candies actually look so good! Thank you!” He says observing the candies.

“This box is small, but heavy” he observes before pulling out a watch box.

“Oh my god, it’s a Ferrari watch. Look at this beauty! I will wear this now I think” He offers showing the camera the Ferrari official watch you’d got him. He places it on his wrist, looking at it before grinning and showing the camera.

“Okay this next one looks very very big, and oh it’s super heavy. I don’t even think I can lift that up”

He starts to tear off the paper, showing a cardboard box with a stamp on top, of what Charles assumed to be the place she’d got it from.

“Antiques Auction House? What is that?” He asks not knowing.

“It’s a place you bid to get rare objects” the F1 presenter grins and Charles looks up in shock. He carefully takes the tape off the lid and pulls the heavy hunk of metal out of the box. He pulls down the bubble wrap to reveal a Ferrari paddock sign.

“Is this real?” He gasps looking it over.

“Yes, maybe take a look at the race it’s from and the year” the presenter asks pushing him to look at the front a little closer.

“Monza 1996, that’s the year I was born! This gift, is so thoughtful and I will put it in my apartment where my sim is so everyone is able to see it when they come over! Hopefully this will bring me luck in Ferrari and in Monza next year so thank you Y/N”

He picks up the next gift which is small and flimsy. He immediately thinks it’s clothing.

As he tears open he holds up the t-shirt bursting out laughing looking at both sides.

On the front it was a radio from his that year printed on saying “woHooooo, Oh Yes! That feels good! - France 2018” and on the back there were words that were printed on there saying “Ask me what happened in France 2018” as a funny sexual innuendo from how crude the radio has sounded with no context behind it!

“This is hilarious and Y/N never fails with these joke gifts. That’s something I’ve noticed, I know this has only been done 2 years now but last year she had two jokey gifts for Lewis and 2 really nice thoughtful ones. This year I have similar! She’s a really good gift giver! She goes above and beyond!”

“She really does! I always get excited, just to see what Y/N gets her Secret Santa each year!”

“I think after this, if they didn’t before, everyone wants her as their gift giver!”

“Okay last gift Charles”

He open up to see a plastic CD cover, decorated by Y/N. He opens it up seeing a note inside.

“For when you finally record something on the piano” he looks up at the presenter and he shows her the cute cover the artistic grid member has designed.

“This is beautiful and I will fill it with tracks I will share with you Y/N thank you again and Merry Christmas Cheri!” He grins.

Y/N definitely spend over her own private budget this secret Santa but she couldn’t help having a small crush on the Alfa Romeo, future Ferrari boy.

2019

“Y/N, you know it’s my favourite time of the year just because you are here serving us once again with your amazing and seemingly limitless gift giving skills. I do have to ask how did you get that Monza pit board”

“Well, my dad is good friends with a Motorsport enthusiast, who has an auction house for Motorsports and Cars, and I won it in August, and was going to give it to Charles as an end or year well done/ Christmas present, but when I got him for secret Santa it made sense to put it in his gifts” you explain.

“Amazing okay so here are you presents for the 2019 season!”

“Oh my gosh I know who this is already! It’s K Mag” you exclaims seeing the pottery set! You’d been saying to him how you wanted to start getting into pottery and how you’d just brought one of the proper stoves to bake them in.

“We spoke about this before, and of course this Metallica Funko Pop would have given it away if the pottery didn’t! Omg I can’t wait to make you and your wife a vase! Thank you so much! I will bring it with me at the start of next season!” You exclaim looking in awe at the two presents in front of you!

*Flip*

“Lance Stroll, I think this year might be your lucky year, you’ve got a decent size bag with three presents” the presenter says cheerfully making Lance smile back.

“I’m excited to see what’s been brought for me! Okay first one obviously we have to open the card and see the message.

“Dear Lance, Starting as rookies together was so much fun! Beating you was even better! Oh it’s either Y/N or Gasly, we all had our rookie year together in 2017!” He exclaims before pulling out the first present which was another envelope.

“You know this is gonna be a voucher of some kind or like, a this was supposed to be your present but it’s not here. What could it be!” He asks opening it up.

“Tennis lessons … WITH ANDY MURRAY? It’s gotta be Y/N right? They are both from the UK, and I’m guessing someone she knows him? How the hell does she know him?” He laughs, he was really into tennis, if he ever had to quit motorsport he would got to tennis as his secondary option.

“This is amazing, thank you Y/N” he smiles genuinely.

“I think him and Y/N were invited to meet the Queen. She wanted to meet Y/N for breaking records around women in motorsport. They’ve played tennis together and she’s driven him round Aintree in her Lamborghini”

“Woah that’s crazy, so they are like friends? Well thank you Y/N and Andy watch out coz I’m coming for you!” He says as he reaches for the next present which is very badly wrapped.

“I think this just be the joke present she gets alongside her good ones” he says shaking it nothing giving away what it could be. He rips it open, to find a mug and a bottle of maple syrup!

“Ah yes as a true Canadian, maple is necessary! And oh a mug”

“Turn it round Lance, what does it say?” Laughs the presenter not actually knowing this was one of the presents.

“It says Daddies Little Boy” he laughs, knowing the joke in the paddock that he wouldn’t ever loose his seat in F1 until he no longer wanted to race.

“That’s hilarious, thank you Y/N I’ll be sure to show my dad this one. Okay onto the last”

He opens it up seeing a James Bond Limited Edition, signed Car from the movies in a mini form.

“It’s so funny, me and Y/N have arguments about this all the time. So they basically got her in Casino Royale as a stunt driver for one scene as she looks like Eva Green from the back. So she will always say that Casino Royale is the best Bond film, but I disagree I think it’s Quantum of Solace! Thank you Y/N for all of this! I can’t wait for my Tennis lessons!”

2020

“What a year it’s been with this virus Y/N and what a stressful year it has been for you drivers. However you’ve had some amazing drives, you had your first win this year with the new name for Toro Rosso under AlphaTauri! And we couldn’t be happier for you. But, your moving up the ranks aren’t you!” The presenter grins happily.

“Yes as of 2021 I will stay in the Red Bull family but move alongside Max into the Red Bull Racing Honda team!” You exclaim! You were so happy to have been given the chance and had worked your but of last year in AlphaTauri coming P5 in the drivers championship. Christian Horner came to you and offered you the seat as you’d done better in the Tauri than Alex in the Red Bull.

“This is just amazing news for you Y/N and we are excited to see what you can do alongside Max Verstappen in 2021!”

“Okay here are you presents for this year!” She says, you pull your mask up a little as it had dropped down as you were talking it repositioning it up and in the correct way.

“These feel like drinks?” You question as you shake the box, when you peel it down you burst out laughing at the crate of Red Bulls in front of you. Everyone knew you were moving to Red Bull so this could literally be anyone.

“Oh my gosh, and Lego Star Wars! LOOK ITS THE FALCON” you yell excitedly. During COVID, you’d streamed alongside Alex, Charles, Lando and George as you liked playing games already and it was more fun with your friends. But you also did streams where you’d answer questions while building Lego’s.

“Guys, Christmas Falcon building stream??” You ask wiggling your eyebrows, however you didn’t know if they’d be able to see them with the Santa hat currently on top of your head.

“Who did you think it is?” The presenter asks.

“I feel like this one is so hard this year, everyone knows I’m moving to RedBull and everyone knew I streamed, and my love for Star Wars” you sigh, a hand rising up to your face in a thinking motion.

“It’s gotta be someone kind and funny. Lando? NO? hmmmm …Dani Ric again? No? Pierre Gasly? NO? Oh my lord, erm I’m not sure who is it??” You ask genuinely having no clue!

“It was George Russell!” She exclaims and you grin widely!

“Thank you so much George! I really appreciate this and I hope you drop in the steam where I’m building it!”

*Flip*

“Max, what a year it’s been for you! Between some amazing races and coming P3, what can we expect from you in 2021”

“Becoming a world champion for sure, I think Y/N moving over to redbull at this time in my career is exactly what I need. She was giving me a run for my money in a mid field car this year, pushing it to its limits every race and outperforming the car. I think she’s going to be competitive and push me further as both a teammate and a rival. I’m excited to have her on board” he smiles nodding.

“Okay so here’s your presents, they are numbered in the order you have to open them in!” She says pushing them forward.

“Okay present one, oh what is this OMG tickets to Moto GP. Beside F1 that is my favourite sport! And it’s during the summer break, that’s incredible! Thank you so much! There’s two so that means I can take a friend I presume! Can I take the gifter?” He asks looking at the F1 presenter who nods, knowing you most likely wouldn’t turn that down.

“Next one! Oooo woah, this is nice, look at this. This one here is me in, Malaysia I think. My first ever face win! Austria in 2018 is here, you can see the Bulk from the Red Bull Ring, oh and here is I think this must be my win in Brazil last year I want to say? And then Abu Dhabi from this year? That race was only yesterday, how did they… this has to be Y/N I don’t know any other person who is this good at art” he says pointing the painted canvas.

“Okay, this is the last one, so this has to be her joke one right?” He asks looking towards the people.

“Read the note here first, now that you’ve worked out who it is” she smiles pushing the letter forward.

“Dear Max, I can’t wait to drive alongside you next year. Or maybe in front of you, we’ll just have to wait and see. Y/N

“I am very excited to drive with her next season. It’s going to be a very close season with the changes I’m sure will occur” he says as he starts to pull from the bag.

“A Y/N pillow, this will travel with me as a travel pillow! Oh and a Y/N signed red bull cap. You’ll be signing a lot more of these next year, but I’m honoured to get the first ever one!” He smiles nodding before looking at the camera for them to stop rolling.

2021

“Y/N, what an amazing year you’ve had a RedBull, coming in P3 and winner the constructors championship for Red Bull, how has the year been?”

“Yeah it’s been phenomenal, driving with Max has really made me push myself to the limits. I think I’m still warming up in the Red Bull this seasons and I made some mistakes which I’ve been focusing on improving each race and I think you can see that in my performance in the second half of the season. I’m thankful to max for pushing me to be a better driver and I’m excited for 2022 with Red Bull, and Honda!”

“Obviously it’s our favourite time of the year! And we are going to be opening some presents!” She says pushing forward a small box. You grin looking at the very precise and very neat wrapping.

You open the box to find one of those cute adopt a penguin with the little plushie.

“Awww it’s so cute!” You exclaims holding up the little penguin.

“And I think there’s a note in there about something else” the F1 presenter directs.

“Hello Y/N it’s your fav mentor. Join me to meet this penguin on a Antártica cruise! K.R”

“KIMI, KIMI, KIMI! No this is too much!” You say looking at the presenter in panic.

“Your idol wants to go on holiday with you! How do you feel”

“Blessed! I’m so happy! I can’t wait to go see the penguins with you Kimi!” You smile, hugging the penguin plushie close to your chest.

*Flip*

“Lando, you’ve got some large gifts here”

“Yeah it’s Y/N” Lando immediately says looking at the wide array of gifts.

“You haven’t even opened at them yet” she laughs.

“No I know Y/N and she’s the only one that puts THIS extensive effort into this! I’ve nailed it tho saying it’s Y/N” he smirks.

“Okay what have we got here” he says picking up the first which is a thinly wrapped envelope.

“Spa vouchers …” he says before shaking his head trying not to laugh and look mock angry.

“I crash in spa, and this is what I get… thanks Y/N. Oh there’s three vouchers. You can Max Fewtrell can come with me. Oh and some … Valorant lessons? Are you saying I’m bad at Valorant, just because your a sweat and your like Ascendent or some shit!” He grins out.

He grabs the next box, small yet heavy. He opens it seeing McLaren x Richard Mille.

“A watch! Woah this … I’m so happy to add this to my collection!”

“And it’s the only one ever made!” The presenter adds making him gasp and look underneath the watch at the engraving. A blush comes onto his face thanking the girl for the watch.

“Okay big box next!” He grins tearing into it.

“Oh Y/N! Y/N” he says with a hand slapped to his mouth.

“Wait no stop” he says pulling the personalised helmet she made him with a note explaining it was for a good start to 2022.

“Thank you Y/N and I can’t wait to wear this next year it’s amazing!” He smiles showing it to the camera finding more and more funny things to laugh to himself about that were inside jokes between the pair of you.

2022

“Y/N the fight between you Max and Charles was so close this year, and you only were a few points behind Charles in the end, taking a storm of a constructors win for Red Bull, so do think you and Charles will have a chance in 2023”

“Yea of course! I’ve renewed my contract with Red Bull until 2025, so I’m very excited at what it will bring!”

“As usual it’s time for the best part of the season! Secret Santa, let’s see what you’ve got this year!” She directs pushing forward the presents in front.

“A bottle of Sake! This will be from Mr Yuki Tsunoda, a Japanese delicacy that he introduced me to this year at the Grand Prix! Thank you Yuki! We’ll have to drink this together!” You smile before going to the next present.

“Oh my gosh, a Bonsai and new tools! This is perfect for my garden in London! Look I have to show you!” She smiles showing the F1 presenter pictures of her garden going off on a rant of where she could place the new bonsai.

“Thank you so much Yuki! Can’t wait to race with you in 23” you smile at the camera.

*Flip*

“Alex! Hopefully Williams has been treating you well” the interviewer smiles happily.

“It has, I think I got a lot out of the car this year which they can learn from in the future! It’s been a year of learning for all of us and we’re happy with the improvements we made” he smiles.

“Well it’s Secret Santa time. Here are your gifts”

“This first one feels like a shirt” he admits feeling up the packaging. He opens it and unfolds the top laughing at what was on the front putting it down and laughing into his hands.

“Show us what you got Alex” she asks. He holds up the gifted top that’s a picture of you and Lily holding hands walking through the paddock looking at each other loving. Above the picture in writing says ‘this woman stole my girlfriend’.

“Lily will force me to wear this, I know it and she will agree with it and come running to the menace of a Secret Santa that gifted this to me! Thank you Y/N” he smiles charmingly at the camera.

“Okay, up next oh? Private golf lessons, with Lily at Hotchkin Course. It says here’s the course is ours for the whole day! Woah, not only will I appreciate that but Lily will also enjoy that day out! Thank you so so much Y/N as usual you are the best!”

“Hand painted golf balls, oh look so this one has the Thai flag on it, this one has the Williams logo on it, this one has a Lily flower on it, okay that’s cute! Look at this detail” he says holding the ball up close to the camera!

“This is perfect! Thank you Y/N and have an amazing Christmas”

2023

"Y/N you and Max have had an amazing season this year and have dominated formula one in Red Bull. You came P2 in the championship, not too far behind Max who won his 3rd championship!"

"Yes, its been an amazing year for us and I'm hoping that next year it will be me winning the Championship!" you grin looking at the presenter.

"Okay, so its the 7th year of Secret Santa on the grid! Are you excited! Because i am!" she says shoving the small bag towards you. You grin excited.

"Yes, okay so ooooo, I know who this is straight away and I think the fans are going to be really happy over this" you grin after you'd peeled the bag back seeing the first gift that was unwrapped and open for the eye to see.

You pull the object out showing hair bleach, toner and little tools and foils, and a note saying that you'll both dye it together and be matching blondes.

You show the camera, knowing fans will not only go wild for blonde Alex, but wild for you finally going blonde after saying for months that you would.

"This is a great gift, and we are going to get Lily to do this for us together!" you smile, before dipping into the bag and pulling the next gift out.

"Steal my GF coupons! OMG finally thank you Alex, i can finally get MY girlfriend Lily back. Guy's seriously when you next pan to her when she's in the paddock, please caption her as Lily Professional Golfer and Partner of Red Bull Driver Y/N Y/L/N. Please I'm begging you!" she laughs and the presenter writes something down on her phone.

"Thank you Alex for these amazing gifts and I will be sure to use both the coupons and the hair dye!" you grin, observing the contents of the hair dye.

"This is a good brand no? Lily must do a good job" you nod, hoping that Lily knows how to dye hair considering Alex's looked good the last time he had it done.

"Yes, its what they use for most of the KPOP Idols in Korea, you know how they dye their hair lots? This is what they use in order to keep it really nice and smooth"

*FLIP*

"Okay, here we have our all time favrioute Daniel Ricciardo, so happy to have seen you driving for AlphaTauri this year. Hopefully 2024 will be a good season for you and we can get some podiums back up there!" she smiles at Daniel who has his typical huge smile back.

"Thank you, lets get down to the real reason we are here! I want to see the presents whoever this is"

"Okay, so ooo a bike helmet. Hmmmm I've been saying to a few on the grid that i need a new one, but this is a really good brand. Okay next one" he smiles moving the bike helmet to one side.

"Ohhhh what the hell, someone has got me Talladega Nights, but they've photoshopped me into Ricky Bobby's place. Look at this. Did you guys get Jensen Button to join in this year?" he laughs showing the camera, the photoshopped version of the popular film among the drivers.

"That's really funny so i bet its got to be one of the young one. Maybe Lando? Or Y/N? or even Oscar my Aussie brother?" he says observing the disk before placing it against the bike helmet leaving it on show.

"A honey badger plushie... okay this is Y/N Lando no way would get me a plushie thats this cute" he jokes.

"Okay last one, holy shit. Do you know how the hell she managed to pull some of these gifts off?? I swear she's the actual St Nick sometimes!" he says looking at his final present. It was an envelope explaining something that you would do for him.

"So she's booked a venue, for her and Heidi in Milan to do a fashion show of my new clothes line that I’ve made in-front of anyone who wants to attend… that’s so thoughtful. Thank you Y/N I’m sure you and Heidi will look amazing on the runway! Thank you and see you on the track more next year!” He smiles.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall@sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me

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carolmunson · 10 months

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orange colored sky (older!modern!eddie)

older!modern!eddie - setlist inspired by the fact that i fall in love with someone new every time i got to trader joe's and @loveshotzz new older!steve series. manip by my fave @eddiemunsons-missingnipple tw: nothing really, very much a meet cute at a grocery store. eddie is in his early 40s, reader is late-late 20s/early 30s. lemme know if you guys want this to be a whole thing.

the automatic doors rush cool air into your face, a sweet reprieve from the sticky heat of this summer. a much muggier july than you remember having as a kid. but then again, you don't remember that much about being a kid these days. trader joe's is a little busier than usual, which makes sense with the holiday weekend coming up -- but you hate when it's busy. there's already too many sounds -- some summer 90s playlist and the squeaks of the carts, people in their hawaiian shirts milling around with boxes and box cutters. you just want some snap peas for god sakes.

you grab a basket and adjust your canvas bags on your shoulder, tossing your headphones in them for later. you feel 'running errands ugly' but everyone seeing you in the bike shorts you threw on this morning doesn't think that view is ugly at all. your music drowned it out on the train ride over here. you're already sort of annoyed. people just don't know how to do anything anymore -- why are we just standing in front of produce. get what you need and go! you think hastily. but you wait for people to stop gawking at the produce and make their selection before you grab the romaine, snap peas, and shredded brussel sprouts you need. when you turn you almost walk entirely into someone's cart, eyes flitting up briefly and muttering a 'sorry, s'cuse me'.

can everyone just get off my fucking ass? you huff to yourself internally. you maneurver over to fruits, a few stands in a row -- citrus, apples, berries. all separated by category in large cargo looking boxes. you snag a big box of cherries, the three pound one, knowing you'll go through the small ones too fast. you frown over the lack of watermelon, continuing along while someone turns the corner into your aisle. you look up for a moment, just to scan your surroundings, to see who it is.

you've never seen him before, but you've never seen anyone here before. it's not like there's regulars at the grocery store in a city like this. his hands hang over the handle to his cart by the wrists, knuckles tattooed in shapes you can't make out. you follow the leather banded watch up to a full sleeve of ink, only obscured by the start of a cuffed t-shirt sleeve, a crisp white that blinds against the black of the elvira pin up tattoo on his tricep. horror icons blending into each other seamlessly. you can see more black and color peeking out from the collar of his shirt --vintage judas priest, mint condition, tucked comfortably under a well perserved denim vest covered in patches of bands you've never heard of. you're surprised by the black chino shorts on his bottom half, not expecting someone who was clearly still stuck in their grunge phase to wear those over cut off jeans. the busted up reebok's on his feet make up for it though -- pairing nicely with the tattoos on his calves and thighs, not quite sleeves, but enough to make a statement.

you grab a box of strawberries and pop them into your basket, surveying the mangos on the top shelf at your eye level while he maneuvers behind you. you think he's cute but you don't take too much stock in it -- it's so like you to have a 'train boyfriend' or 'trader joe's boyfriend' for a brief moment in time. someone cute that you spot outside and never speak to. it's one of those days.

he has brown eyes and thick lashes, hair dark wrapped in a bun on the top of his head with streaks of silver poking through, bangs in his face. some curls stick to the heated skin by his neck and jaw. not that you're looking. the scruff on his face is littered with salt and pepper -- maybe that part of him aging more than the rest. he grabs a heap of bananas to his nearly empty cart. he also has a big box of cherries in there. he wears a cologne with spice and suede in the notes, it's familiar, a little smoky. maybe an old boyfriend used to wear it. you shrug it off, grabbing a mango or two and popping it in a produce bag before hocking it in. more veggies for a greek salad. an onion. some pre-packaged turkey slices.

you turn into the first frozen food section, weaving through more people who just stand there and you grit your teeth. you snag some frozen broccoli, the coolness bringing you a moment of calm so that you don't lose your mind inside the store. more like traitor joe's. you grab a few more things, a veggie medley for a tofu scramble, some scallion pancakes that you’ll use as meal replacement because no matter how many times you think you’ll food prep you never do. you see him at the end of the aisle, rifling through bags of frozen shrimp to find one he likes. you notice he has a ring on but it’s on his pointer finger, two more rings on the hand that holds his cart by his hip – a silver chain dangles from what you assume is his wallet in his back pocket. his keys jingle from a carabiner by his front belt loop. slut, you think to yourself. you grab a bag of small frozen salmon filets, not paying much mind to your grocery store boyfriend of the week when you turn the corner to the next frozen food aisle. he’s there not soon after you, grabbing frozen fruit medleys and a few bars of chocolate on the non-frozen shelving above. you aren’t sure if he sees you, but you see him. you can smell the suede and spice of his cologne as his moves past you to the other end. bread is on the back wall of the store, you want to get sourdough but you know you’ll just eat it plain and not make sandwiches so you opt for the tuscan loaf instead. you snag a bag of mini bagels, forgoing the small baguettes this time. you can’t afford the good burrata this week for any special girl dinner you come up with, so it’s best to not have it around if you can’t pair it with anything pretty. further down the back wall you get to snacks and don’t ignore the bag of yogurt covered pretzels – a basket must. seaweed snacks for salmon rice bowls. plantain chips. Your basket feels a little heavy but at least this errand is almost over. you turn down the pasta, beans, and rice aisle and there he is turning down the other end. you both catch each other this time, because this time feels like it’s not a coincidence. you both break eye contact as quickly as you make it, both of you looking down and smiling to yourselves. you feel the heat on your cheeks but you don’t see his blush, both of you too preoccupied with whatever you have to pick up to pay attention to the other. you smell the suede and smoke even after you lose him to the next couple of aisles.

pre-packaged tortellini, lox, shredded cheese. chicken thighs. a six pack of some pretty sounding beer you’ve never tried. your basket overflows but it’s fine. the errand is over, at least here, before you need to run into target which for some reason is far less overstimulating. he’s a few people ahead of you on the opposite line, still leaning over the edge of his cart with his hands hanging, one thumbing a text to someone before he stands up fully to push the cart ahead. he looks over his shoulder and your eyes briefly meet for a moment – heat on your cheeks – before he moves ahead to turn down the long row of cashiers to pay. you don’t see him when it’s your turn and by the time you’re done paying you’ve already forgotten about him, lost in a flirty conversation with the guy ringing you up. target only has half of what you need and that’s fine because nothing else will fit in the big canvas bags you brought with you for your groceries and it’s at least an eight minute walk back to the train. you groan when you get back out into the heat, the boiler room of the subway cooking you as you make it down to the platform. a pleasant sigh passes your lips when you see it’s at least only a four minute wait until your train makes it to you – only a few more minutes of suffering before you’re on your way back to your air conditioned studio apartment. you look across the platform where some old lady’s push cart rattles as it makes it down the stairs on the other side. her little body walking ahead, a voice saying ‘i got it, ma’am don’t worry,’ echos down into the chamber of the subway.

there he is. a canvas bag on each arm filled to the brim and the push cart lifted in front of him. while you can’t see from this distance, you have a feeling you’d like how his arms looked at full capacity like this. the cart’s metallic jingle continues when he places it on the concrete ground, pushing it over to the woman who now sits pleasantly on the bench. you watch their conversation while they say quiet ‘thank yous’ and ‘your welcomes’ to each other and he checks his phone while he finds a spot to stand, waiting for his train on the opposite side.

you check your phone just the same and look up again as he puts his phone in the pocket of his vest. his attention catches on you from across the way.

he gives you a small wave and smiles. he has a nice smile, infectious.

“hi.”

you wave back with two fingers, a small salute, “hey.”

“i’m eddie,” he starts as the red glow of the light on your train starts to pull in.

the chug, chug, chug starting to drown him out. he raises his voice with a boyish grin, you hear him just before the train obscures him from view – whooshing past you as it pulls into the station. “i normally go to trader’s on wednesdays!”

you get on the train when the doors open, seeing him still on the platform, searching for you in the windows. you put your hand up again in an awkward wave and he grins when he finds you. ‘stand clear of the closing doors, please!’ he puts a hand back up with two fingers, mouthing out a message. ‘wednesdays around two.’

you give him the okay symbol with your fingers and nod at him, chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation, he chuckles too. his smile is pretty, lips are full. his two fingers point to his eyes and then at you – ‘see you then’.

the train pulls away before you get a chance to reply.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #old!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #stranger things #stranger things fan fiction

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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

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Not A Verstappen: A New World {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Pressure seems to be coming from all directions and it's only a matter of time before you explode. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mention of drugs, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Silverstone Grand Prix Lando hadn’t stopped moving all night. If he wasn’t dancing, he was circling the club and talking to everyone that had come out to celebrate his second place finish at his home race, or DJing. His excitement had been infectious enough to replace the disappointment from the seventh place finish for you and the ninth place for Charles.

“Mamour, dance with me,” Charles begged as he appeared behind you, a drink in one hand and the other on the small of your back. His palm rubbed soothing circles and you leant back into the touch with a groan. “Does your back still hurt?”

The porpoising of the car had been horrific and even Kristian’s hands hadn’t been able to ease the ache after the race, but you didn’t want Charles to worry as you turned to face him. “Yeah, it’s sore from carrying my team.”

His laugh warmed your ear before his cold lips kissed the space beneath. “That’s my girl.”

“Yes I am, now where is our boy?” You scanned the crowd looking for Lando but instead found his parents dancing together and sharing whispers. “I was always jealous of you guys.”

“For what?”

“That. Having parents that loved each other. I thought I was missing out on something,” you said with a nod to Adam and Cisca before clearing your throat at the unexpected wistfulness that arose. “I’m just going to get some fresh air. Why don’t you find Lando and I’ll meet you there?”

You didn’t wait for an answer as you escaped the busy room to the balcony on the upper level. Clouds of flavoured smoke greeted you from the people who had gone to vape where they were allowed and you squeezed through until you found a small pocket of space in the back corner.

“You look like you could use this more than me.”

You looked at the joint the stranger offered, more than likely some friend of a friend of Lando’s, and you raised your hand to wave away the smoke that drifted your way. “No, thank you.”

“Go on, it’ll help you relax.”

“I don’t need to relax, alright, so just fuck off would you?”

“Woah, lovie, calm down,” he laughed before taking a long drag and blowing the bitter sweet smoke in your face.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” you bit out, barely feeling the burn of the spliff in your palm as you snatched it from him. “And I’m not your fucking ‘lovie’-”

“Baby. Babe! What’s going on?” Lando slid between you, forcing the stranger back as he took your hand and swore. “What the hell did you do, Jakob?”

“Nothing, bro, you’re girl looked like she was stressing,” Jakob said with an innocent shrug. “I was just trying to help.”

“H-help?!” you stammered as your hands turned to fists with the growing anger burning hotter than your hand. “I would lose my seat you fucking imbecile. Your idiot friend was trying to get me to smoke weed.”

“Why are you getting angry at me?” Lando asked as he stepped back. “I was coming to see if you were alright. Just calm down for a second, love.”

You had seen Romain Grosjean’s car explode when he crashed in Bahrain, heard the audible pop that rippled through the air before the wall of flames erupted. You imagined that something similar was happening inside you. “Don’t tell me to calm down,” you hissed quietly as you felt the stares of everyone on the balcony. “This is fucking calm.”

Lando’s eyes were wide as he reeled back, his jaw dropping at the tone you took. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I guess I am my father’s daughter.” You felt your lips tugging though there was nothing to smile about and it was as if you were a passenger in your own body. You couldn’t control the words as they tumbled out of your mouth with a harsh laugh.

You looked at the joint in your hand, an angry blister appearing where it had burnt you, and saw the tip was still aglow. Rolling it in your fingers you started to lift it to your lips as you wondered what it would taste like, if it would relax your racing mind and tired body.

“We’re leaving,” Lando growled as he grabbed your wrist and started to drag you back inside, the joint falling to the floor.

“What happened?” Charles asked the moment he saw the hard look on Lando’s face and tight grip on your limp arm.

“I don’t know, ask Spitfire. Miss Verstappen here is starting fights and taking drugs now apparently.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Maybe Daddy Dearest and I can share a cell one day, work on that father/daughter bond we never had,” you laughed darkly. “Oh wait, no we can’t because he only got home detention and gets to spend all day with Kelly and Blue playing happy families.”

“Non, non, your lawyer said Jos would get three years minimum,” Charles said as he looked between you and Lando with disbelief. “His stunt could have killed you.”

“I know. I was there, funnily enough.” You shifted on your feet wishing you hadn’t worn heels and you debated kicking them off. “At least Blue doesn’t have to grow up without a dad - at least she will think he gives a shit about her.”

Lando’s fingers eased their grip from your wrist and slipped down to hold your hand. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because it doesn’t matter. It would only upset you and it doesn’t bother me - I have a restraining order against him.”

“But it is obviously bothering you, baby,” he said as he shared a look with Charles. “We’ve both noticed you’ve been acting a little crazy for a while.”

“Well I only found out after we got here so thanks for that. Look, I’m just going to head back to the hotel and find mum.” You pulled away from them as the laser lights caught the shimmer of tears running down your cheeks. “I don’t want to ruin your night any more than I already have.”

“Wait, no,” Lando argued as he took a step after you, tripping over the heels you had slipped off before disappearing into the crowd and missing his quiet words, “you haven’t ruined anything.”

Your feet ached from the run to the hotel and your boobs weren’t feeling much better. The clubbing dress wasn’t exactly one that a supportive bra could fit under so you felt each slap of your feet on the pavement reverberate up your body and bounce them uncomfortably. A few people stared as you rushed by but most people out at the late hour had their own problems to deal with rather than worrying about the person running like a madwoman down the street.

“Am I crazy?”

Your mother looked a little perplexed as she opened the door to her suite wider to let you in, her eyes narrowing at your bare feet as you walked past panting. “Is this a serious question or rhetorical?”

“I’m being serious, mum.”

“Well,” she said as she pointed to the couch and turned off the TV that was playing the evening news, “I think you are safe if you’re asking that. Most crazy people wouldn’t ask if they are crazy.”

You fell into the couch heavily and rubbed your temples furiously. “There’s something wrong with me though.”

You felt the seat beside you sink in as she sat down before she pulled your hands away. “Why do you say that, honey?”

“I don’t know, I just feel off. Unbalanced. I keep fucking things up with Lando and Charles and I know one day they will get sick of it and leave me. And I wouldn’t blame them.”

“Those boys love you, and what you three have is special but relationships are hard, sweetheart. They take time and energy to maintain. You have to work to keep them going strong, work on both the relationship and yourself.” She paused as she looked at your hands in hers, your nails almost non-existent from the biting habit that had resurfaced in recent months. “What's really on your mind? I haven’t seen you this stressed since your first karting race.”

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you pulled your knees up to your chest and wiped your eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing, mum. Last year I had Max on my team and I knew he had my back, now I feel like I have a target on mine.”

“I thought Lawernce was pleased with your work.”

“Points equal money so Lawrence is happy, but Lance is struggling more than me at getting them lately. The upgrades just aren’t doing enough and the further I get ahead in the standings the tenser things are with him, but I need to push harder. I have no hope of beating Max or Checo without the RB19, so, so, so maybe I’m just not that good a driver like everyone said.”

“Oh, honey,” she cooed softly as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you into her side. “You are a great driver, no matter the car.”

“I want to believe that but I’m second guessing myself over every decision I’ve made and it makes me so angry that I’m snapping at everyone around me, especially Charles and Lando. I know I’m the problem, mum, I just don’t know how to fix me, or if I even can be…What if there’s just too much Verstappen in here?” Your fist slammed against your chest and as if to prove your point the sound was as hollow as you felt.

Sitting up straight, your mother gave you the look that made you shift uncomfortably before her lips parted. “You listen to me, and you listen well: you are not broken, and there is nothing to ‘fix’. Max, Victoria and Blue all share the same blood as you and they are not broken either. You are more than who your father is and there is nothing wrong with being a Verstappen.”

“Then why didn’t you call me that? If it’s not that bad, why isn’t it on my birth certificate?”

Your mother sighed deeply and she suddenly looked tired - as if her age was catching up with her at the late hour. “Honey, I was your age when I found out I was pregnant. I was young and heartbroken and alone.”

You couldn’t blame her, you could hardly imagine trying to raise a kid alone, especially one that was a reminder of what was probably the worst betrayal she had faced. It had probably put her off ever wanting another relationship again. “How come you never dated anyone after Jos?”

“I dated other men, honey. I didn’t become a nun,” she teased with a nudge of her shoulder. “You just never met any of them.”

You tried not to think about the nun statement too much but you couldn’t help asking, “Why?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Because you are the most precious gift I ever received and I wasn’t going to bring just anyone into our home. The only man I wanted to bring home was one prepared to be a father to you, we were a package deal.”

Your brows pinched together as you understood yet another sacrifice she had made for you growing up. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You’ll understand it when you’re a mother one day - when you’re older, much older, and retired from racing.” She patted your knee twice at the knock on the door and stood up to open it. “Evening gentlemen, come to collect our Champ?”

You looked to the door and found Lando leaning against the frame with your heels hanging from his fingertips. Charles stood beside him with a hand on his waist.

“Actually, we were wondering if we could have a family meeting.”

Click here for the next part.

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #Charles leclerc x reader x lando norris

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beansprean · 2 years

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@blakbonnet @saltpepperbeard Your post has come to fruition…this comic hurt my teeth with its sweetness!! I should apologize for how long it is but...I won't.

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of Stede and Ed standing in an 80s grocery store. Ed, wearing a black tee shirt tucked into lightwash jeans, black boots, a light blue handkerchief in his back left pocket, and his hair in a high ponytail, is standing with an empty grocery cart with both hands on the handle and one foot up on the bottom basket. He glances from the empty cart and then to Stede, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Stede, wearing a retro-patterned teal and purple short sleeved button up tucked into pleated khaki slacks, brown leather loafers, and a gold watch, his hair swept back in a big feathered quiff, holds his hands up defensively with a nervous smile. He says, “Oh- Darling, no. No, no, I’m too big!”

2a. Ed begins to stalk towards Stede with a mischievous grin, arms out in a grabbing motion. Stede backs up, smile growing even as his eyes narrow in warning and his hands try to bat him away. “Ed.” he says shortly. 2b. Ed darts forward and grabs Stede around the waist, scooping him up over his shoulder. Stede bursts into laughter, face going red, and yells “Ed! Put me down, you’ll hurt yourself!” 2c. Ed walks back toward their cart with Stede flopped over his shoulder and sings, “Nonsense, love!” In the background, there is a young brown woman wearing a patterned jumpsuit with long dark feathered hair facing the shelves as she browses cereal. There is a baby over her shoulder wearing teal overalls who catches Stede’s eye as they pass and reaches out a chubby little hand to wave at him in solidarity. Stede waves back automatically, clearly embarrassed but unable to stop smiling.

3a. Ed half-falls into the cart with a punched-out “Oof!” as he flops Stede down into it butt-first, his face buried in Stede’s chest and Stede’s legs flying up around him. 3b. Ed lifts himself up with his arms braced on either side of Stede, nose-to-nose with his husband who has sat up in the cart with a silly grin, one leg thrown over the side. Ed continues the previous conversation with a soft smile, “It’s like holding a couple of grapes.” 3c. Ed closes the last inch between them to smack a kiss on the tip of Stede’s nose. Stede reddens and snorts out a laugh.

4. Close up on the woman in their aisle as she chooses a cereal called “Matey Puffs” featuring a white cartoon Blackbeard with a hook hand. She glances over in confusion at Ed and Stede as they zoom away, Stede tucked in the cart and Ed driving, both giggling uncontrollably. The baby continues to wave after them.

5. Text reading “Later…”

6a. Stede and Ed waiting in line at the checkout. Stede is still in the cart, knees pulled to his chest, now surrounded by piles of groceries including a bottle of L&P soda, a bag of shredded cheese, a head of romaine lettuce, a bottle of wine, a few packs of meat, a bag of apples, a bag of Twisties, a loaf of bread, a bag of Roshuns, several packs of spaghetti, and a few miscellaneous cartons and jars. Ed, one hand on the cart handle, suddenly smacks the heel of his other hand against his forehead with a “duh!” expression. He exclaims, “Oh, shit! We forgot the oranges!” Stede turns his head around shoot him an annoyed look and replies, “What?? That’s the whole reason we came!” 6b. Ed runs off in a cloud of dust, shouting behind him, “BRB, Baby! Kiss kiss!” Stede cranes his neck after him in panic, unable to move from his grocery prison, calling, “Wai- Ed! Ed!!” 6c. Stede turns back around, red faced, sweating with nerves, and now a middle aged man alone in a full grocery cart. In front of him in queue is a bald man resembling Black Pete in a white suit with the sleeves rolled up, pushing his own cart. Behind him are an older dark-skinned woman with short gray hair wearing a puff sleeve shirt, long pink skirt, and pearls, holding a full basket with both hands and a large Māori man resembling Fang in a pink polo shirt and pleated khakis with a bag of dog food under one arm. They both step forward automatically to fill Ed’s vacated space.

7a. The older woman leans forward toward Stede with a small smile, saying, “You and your husband are very sweet.” Stede cranes his neck around to smile at her nervously, replying, “Oh! Thank you…” 7b. The woman loosens one hand from her basket to place it on Stede’s cart, continuing, “Let me push you forward, the queue is moving.” Stede drops his chin to his chest in relief, breathing out a much more genuine “Thank you.”

8a. Text at the top reads “9 minutes later”; Stede has reached the front of the line. The employee, who resembles Izzy, is wearing a blue striped button up and red bow tie under a yellow apron and stands, one hand hovering over the register as he stares down silently at Stede. Stede, looking small and scared, barely able to peek over the edge of the counter, stares back sweatily with wide eyes and says, “Ummm…” 8b. The employee startles as Stede cracks his head back and screams at the top of his lungs, “Ed!! Darling, where are you?? We have a problem!!”

9a. Ed suddenly zooms into view holding a bag of oranges, sliding smoothly between Stede and the register with a grin and a wink. He says, “Never fear, my love! I’m here!” Stede smiles hugely at him, full of relief and love. Behind them, the Izzy-like employee just glares at them, looking extremely tired, revealing he is wearing a large anachronistic button that says “service with a smile”. Stede cries, “You came back!” Ed replies, “Never left.” Both their speech bubbles are filled with pink hearts. 9b. Text in parentheses at the top says “he really didn’t.” We now see Ed from earlier, already holding the bag of oranges, peeking out from behind a shelf with a warm expression. He giggles, one hand to his cheek, as he observes Stede’s predicament from afar. Offscreen, Stede is saying, “Oh- Louise, we’re moving again.” Louise, presumably the older woman behind him in line, responds, “I’ve got you!” Stede continues, “Haha, getting awfully close to the front, aren’t we… I wonder what’s taking Ed so long…” /end ID

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #modern ofmd #80s aesthetic #mlm #our flag means death #my art #fanart #image described #bob damrons handkerchief code may be required reading but there r lots of fun easter eggs #originally i was like hehe what if the baby was jim but i was like no then everyone would be way younger but #who cares baby jim

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sundaynightfilms · 1 year

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Waiting for Bojangles, 2022

#waiting for bojangles #regis roinsard #solan machado graner #romain duris #virginie efira

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leclsrc · 1 year

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hiii! could i request a charles fluff where he and y/n kinda have like some tradition that they do together or something. and its just special to them? like going traveling or even something ordinary like cleaning the house? sorry i'm a total sucker for these lmao

again late, so late, sorry! but i am trying to catch up w these olddd reqs hahshdhs. shoutout again to mack who live messaged me ab a grocery trip and inspired much of this ily. title from this

things lovers do – cl16

“And we’re out of limes, I think.” You say, humming as you review the contents of your fridge.

“Do we even use them that much?” Charles asks from the dinner table. He stares at the list, where he’s written the word limes. He holds a pen to the left of it, prepares to draw it across the word, but your own words of protest stop him. What—of course we use limes, you say.

“I don’t recall us making guacamole, is all.”

You shut the fridge, laughing and walking over to where he sits, wrapping your arms around him from behind. Together, you peruse the crumpled list, of words written and erased in Charles’ messy penmanship. There’s romaine, lemon, pasta, ciabatta. Assorted gum, because Charles likes to chew it while working. Coffee beans, because a day without them renders you half-deceased.

This is a weekly thing—reviews of the grocery list, on the dinner table with two glasses of wine. Anyone can love, but not everyone can sit and be patient and browse every last item of the fridge and pantry to determine what needs to be added. And through the list you’re provided with a window for the week: Monday night dinner with pasta, Wednesday breakfast with ciabatta, a romaine salad for Thursday brunch.

If you told your six-year-old self that your best memories with your boyfriend would be formulating grocery lists, she would pout in your face. Boyfriend? She’d ask petulantly. Don’t we get to marry a prince, with a horse and a castle? No, you’d say. We get to have a prince, yes, but he has a car and a house in Monaco. Is that good enough? If it isn’t, he makes a mean set of pancakes.

Do we get to dance with him at a ball? It’s still a no, you’d tell her. The dancing happens in the kitchen, lit only by the yellow of the stovetop range while you play Harvest Moon and sway softly to the guitar. It happens by the fridge, when a Bee Gees song comes on and Charles can’t resist holding you by the waist and lifting you up to join his dancing. It happens while you wait for toast in the morning, when both the bread and the weather are in the middle of cool and warm, to Al Green on the radio.

This love of grocery lists and airplane rides sure doesn’t live up to your six-year-old self’s fairytale standards, or your sixteen-year-old’s hopes of marrying Harry Styles. You think, however, that it far surpasses anything you could ever have wanted.

His voice draws you out of your reverie. “You okay? You’re a bit quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you reassure, pressing a kiss to his hair and smiling. “Of things.” Of us, of toast and tea, of romance and loving you and making lists and loving you and God, loving you. “Lots of things.”

“…Is this because I added too much junk food?”

“No, God,” you say, fond. “It’s nothing.”

“I love you,” he says back. And if you ever doubted it, there would always be limes, written without erasure on this crumpled list on the dinner table.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader

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interpolanticssuperfan · 8 months

Text

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 1 | 18+ only

warnings: this will eventually contain smut so please be mindful. part of my goal is to explore ken developing a relationship with a human who struggles with their own vices, and doesn't feel qualified to teach him how to be human. i'd consider this slow burn with obviously eventual relationship fluff and smut (this includes ken doing things like drinking alcohol for the first time, having sexual experiences for the first time, etc.) not sure how many parts this will be but i will keep everyone updated!

also - my main is @snuffbby i just didnt feel comfortable posting it there, but you can follow me there if you want to chat or ask questions about this ongoing work. thanks <3 <3

Meeting Ken was actually a complete and unforeseen fluke – not on your part, it’s not like you were looking for him.

Frankly, you weren’t looking for anything at this point in your life. Burnt out, at the end of your rope with men and content to enjoy your own company in the comfort of your apartment, happy to work your menial clerical job for the rest of your life until a better paying career fell into your lap.

Or whatever.

You didn’t really care. As odd as it sounded, you were thankful right now for boring. For humdrum chores, for cleaning the kitchen and brainlessly answering emails for eight hours a day until your joints ached.

Having been out of college for four years now, you’d put in a decent tenure at your current company doing data entry. It wasn’t challenging and afforded you plenty of freedom in your schedule. That being said, most days were seamless copies of one another – wake up, feed your guinea pig, stretch on the tiny sliver of patio out front, then head to the library down the road to work until your eyes crossed from screen fatigue.

Nothing really ever changed. Yogurt for breakfast every morning. Repeated motions of the only three yoga poses you knew. Even your guinea pig seemed to look at you with confusion sometimes when you fed her, tiny eyes ogling up at you from her spacious enclosure.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you’d mutter, dropping in romaine lettuce and pellets for her. And after every complaint, she would twirl in a circle, waiting for her daily brushing.

The library was a godsend on these hot summer days, air conditioned and quiet. You didn’t even need headphones, but preferred them to focus. The secretary stopped asking if she could help you find anything when she realized you’d become a regular patron of the modern looking white table near the massive windows.

“Good morning, Pat,” you’d smile as you passed, and she’d give you a little wave, usually on the phone with someone or engrossed in a book of her own.

Updating spreadsheets. Notifying supervisors of progress. Nearly nodding off at eleven thirty. It had been shaping up to be an entirely normal, predictable, cut and dry day. Until a silhouette by the front desk grew bigger, approaching your peripheral and then flat out startling you. Numbers and figures had started to blur together, so you blinked hard and shut your laptop – just to find an incredibly curious sight across from you.

Sat comfortable and cross-legged in the opposing chair was one of, if not the most objectively attractive men you’d ever seen in your entire life. Pretty in a way that bordered on unnatural, like a living sculpture. A long, denim-clad arm splayed out lazily along the back of the chair.

This man gave you a calculated yet warm smirk that danced across his features. Bleached blonde like a model and face angled, glazed in sunlight that inched through the windows. He was something straight out of a fairytale – picturesque, almost glowing.

Where had he come from?

“Is this seat taken?” Inexplicably you felt the back of your neck heating up, a ring of sweat forming around your collar where your necklace was clasped. It seemed to sear into your skin as you fumbled over your words, deciding what to say to the stranger who’d placed himself in front of you like an apparition.

“I… no, I’m here by myself. Working, I’m, uh. Just working.” Strangely, you noticed him make a fist to himself, concealed partly by the table, but his gesture of victory was obvious, as if he’d just won a bet or something. The blonde composed himself then with a twitch of his neck, nodding evenly, instantaneously cool as a cucumber again. His bright blue eyes studied you, your laptop and planner on the desk, your bag hanging across the arm of the chair. You’d never needed the air conditioning to be effective more so than this moment. Crank it way up – igloo this place all the way.

“Excellent. My name’s Ken.” Big blue eyes finally locking with yours, he puffed his chest out, like a purple and green speckled peacock trying to attract a mate with his confidence, his easy bravado. Though it was difficult to ignore the openness – the curiosity in his eyes as he took you in.

Like it was his first time talking to a woman, or at least trying to do… whatever he was doing right now with you.

You felt that your instincts would warn you if this neatly manicured man was making you uneasy or frightened, but you didn’t notice an inkling of displeasure. On the contrary, it was almost electrifying to be stared at like this. Flattering.

Had been months, almost a year since anyone paid attention to you like this.

“Ken?” Unable to stop the laugh, you tilted your head sideways, scooting your chair back to get a better look at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Ken. Wait – I’m sorry, that’s not true. My dad’s boss was named Ken. But you wouldn’t, um. You wouldn’t know him. At least I don’t think so, I have no idea where you’re from. He was an engineer, this senior engineer for a huge company in New Jersey… we don’t keep in touch, he’s sort of an asshole.” You found yourself rambling on as you drank this surprising man in, freely sharing details about yourself without even telling him your name first.

But what an interesting view he was. Painted still with this deeply intoxicating smile, pupils darting and eager like an energetic puppy.

“I am not from New Jersey. But I’m sorry the other Ken was – what did you call him?”

“An... asshole?”

“Yes, I’m sorry he was that.” Your long winded introduction didn’t seem to bother him one bit. He kept his gaze unmoving right on your face, like he was terrified to break eye contact.

You eyed his white cowboy boots (did people still wear those?), black leather pants that hugged his legs like a gift from the heavens, and a long sleeved white denim jacket that appeared to be cropped, revealing just a hint of his lower stomach, and when you caught your eyes lingering for just too long on the tanned patch of skin peeking out, you sighed, shutting yourself up.

You couldn’t shake one thing, though; leather and denim on a day like this? It was nearly ninety outside, you remembered, and cocked your head at him.

“Oh, I was talking about my dad, not his boss. And I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lady,” Ken replied, studying you to gauge your reaction to his compliment. It was clear Ken was attempting to hit on you, and it was equal parts unfamiliar and gratifying.

“Thank you. I’ve never had anyone say that about my name.” Ken winced as if shot through the heart, his flawless eyebrows flying up to his flawless hairline, and he clutched at the buttons on his jacket. This display would have probably seemed incredibly dramatic on any other man, but for some reason it read as… serious on Ken.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Well, I really appreciate your honesty, Ken.”

“It’s no problem at all. I would never lie to you. Not in a hundred million years.”

Very heartfelt words coming from someone you’ve known for all of… four minutes, generously.

You quirked your head, caught off guard by his comment. “I… thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you over… here? To sit with me, I mean?”

This caused a beam to unfold across Ken’s face, and he leaned back in the chair, perching his chin up so as to look professional. “Can I tell you the truth?”

“Well. Yes, I’d like that.”

“I saw you here last week. On – what’s the one that starts with an ‘F’?” Ken screwed his eyes shut, scanning his brain meticulously for a piece of very common, everyday information.

This is a bizarre way to flirt with someone for the first time, you thought to yourself, bewilderment sinking into your gut as you helpfully offered, “Friday?”

“Yes! That’s it. Friday,” He uttered to himself and dropped his eyes, seemingly making a mental note. “So, I saw you here Friday. You were getting a book from right over there.” Ken pointed to the magazine rack nestled against the front desk that you once in awhile perused when the weekend approached, for lack of anything better to do at home.

You had checked out a magazine last Friday, in fact, after you clocked out for the day and packed up your things. It wasn’t anything special, just a stupid crossword puzzle collection with a recipe for a quiche you wanted to try making.

“You saw me on Friday and didn’t say anything?”

“Exactly. You got the magazine, and then you walked home, and I didn’t know what to say because you were already inside. So then I walked back here – the library – and waited in case you came back. But that rude lady up there told me they were closing at nine, so I had to leave. Actually, she told me a little more than that. She said that I couldn’t loiter, whatever that is, but I was free to check out a book, so I asked her what book you had just gotten. But she didn’t want to tell me that for some reason.”

Ken recounted this like he was describing the weather with a colleague, just simple, redundant water cooler talk. Your jaw hung open in disbelief. Was he being serious? You’d finished work at four thirty. He sat here, allegedly for hours until it closed?

He’d followed you home?

Before you could interject with a dozen questions flying through your mind, Ken continued.

“Anyway, I thought about walking back to your house – and you have a big house, by the way! I had a feeling you would. You seem like a very successful lady. That’s why I had to meet you. Successful, captivating, beautiful, I couldn’t just go all the way back to Barbieland after I saw you!”

Had he mistook your apartment complex to be something you owned? And – what did he just say?

“Go back. To Barbieland.” You stated, smile faltering quicker than Ken managed to absolutely stun you with his fanatical tale.

“Right? I knew you would understand. I just knew you would, (Y/N)! Not to mention how long it took me to get here in the first place. So after security kicked me out –”

“Hold on, I’m sorry. I just… Ken?”

“Yes, my dove?” Ken’s taken to periodically toying with his jacket in positions that display his pronounced biceps. It’s endearing. It’s distracting. He’s stiflingly mesmerizing.

“Okay. Can we back up for a moment?”

Ken’s wide eyes regard you with infinite patience, wisps of his almost silver-like bangs falling against his brow bone. You remember that it’s only noon, and you’re still technically on the clock. In fact, your supervisor is almost certainly trying to get ahold of you for his midday rounds, checking on your team’s progress for the day.

“Ask me anything you want. I am an open book. Especially for you.” He enunciates each syllable, adoring eyes raking over you again, and it’s beginning to feel a bit too much – and there’s a lot more information you need to derive from Ken before you can backpedal to… introductions and amicable conversation. (Not to mention the curling heat that’s pooling in your lower abdomen the more Ken devours you visually. He may have just dropped a bomb on you, yes, but he’s… well. He’s bewitching, alluring in a fashion that’s barely comprehensible.)

“Right. Here’s where I’m at. With all of this. I am very flattered by you, and your… dedication to finding me.”

Ken’s grin overtakes his face, eye lines wrinkling with complete satisfaction. You almost forget your next words, forget to draw a line in the sand with this (gorgeous) stranger who’s just admitted to essentially stalking you.

But somehow, the pit in your stomach ceases its knotting when you meet his honest cobalt eyes. Not a hint of malice behind them, not a shred of ill intention. Not for the first time since you’d met Ken, you’re astounded that with any other man this behavior would scare you, probably compel you to call the police, even. Maybe you’d misjudged him.

He forgot the word for Friday, for Christ’s sake.

But then there was this talk about traveling a long way to come here… about Barbie? This didn’t sit right with you, and the concept that Ken might be mentally unwell dawned on you, though he seemed coherent and relatively well spoken. Just a half hour ago you’d been toiling away with spreadsheets, and now you were silently cataloging all psychiatric facilities within a ten mile radius, wondering if a man of average height and average build could walk that far on a sweltering hot day. And still look, for lack of a better word, perfect.

As you sat agonizing over the right words to say, Ken merely watched with his hands in his lap, boot tapping against his knee with no discernible rhythm. Patient with an emotion akin to devotion swimming through his watchful gaze.

“Ken… where are you staying?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where have you been staying while you’ve been in town? Do you live around here?”

Ken smirked again, leaned in close to you, resting his elbows on your work laptop. “There’s that humor I like about you. Silly girl. I already told you, I live in Barbieland. It takes me seven hours to get here!”

“Okay. Right. So, let’s try this. Friday when I went home and you came back here. You remember that?”

“Uh huh,” Ken bobbed his head with sincerity, unfazed by this line of questioning, not picking up on how perturbed you’d grown.

“Where did you sleep that night? Do you know anyone here?”

Ken took his bottom lip in between his teeth, thoughtfully chewed on it. “Besides you, I don’t think so. The book lady who kicked me out doesn’t count as knowing someone. Right?”

“...Probably not. So where did you sleep?” You didn’t have the heart to tell Ken he didn’t really know you.

“I didn’t.”

“Sleep. You didn’t sleep?”

“No one’s asked me that before. I don’t really… get tired.” This confession strikes you as highly strange.

Your head began to feel fuzzy, and you guessed it wasn’t from skipping breakfast this morning. At least the sweat on your back had finally dried, and you inhaled deeply, trying not to startle Ken with your obvious worries.

“How about we do this. As you can see, I’m working right now,” you open your hand towards your long forgotten computer. “Well, I was working. And I’m not done for a few hours. But I think that we need to sit and talk about… everything. That you’ve told me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just wait here with you until you’re done! Look – I wanted to show you this. I even got a book before you got here.” Ken seems excited to share, so you purse your lips, watch him as he procures a book from underneath his chair.

Ken holds out and frames a well worn paperback titled “Misty of Chincoteague”, frayed at the edges and featuring a wistful painting of a horse on the cover. For some reason, this childlike display of wonder touches you, and against all reason you’d ever acquired throughout your life, something nags at your conscience to trust this strange man – something tells you, like a mantra beating in time with your heart, that this man is not a threat to you, he is not going to hurt you.

“Are you a horse lover?”

“I’m more of a horse admirer… they intrigue me,” Ken quips, scanning your face again to see how you’re reacting to him. He seems to be at once keenly self aware and simultaneously oblivious to how he sounds – how he’s received by others. This man is a conundrum, made up of so many conflicting personality traits and mannerisms that don’t belong together but mesh nonetheless.

And, you tell yourself, you’re still giving him your undivided attention.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“Really?” Ken’s act of unbothered macho-man seems to slip slightly as his eyes bulge, intently seeking for validation, wanting to hear you talk more about him, your impression of him so far. Maybe this is the way to get more information out of him, you realize, so you humor him.

“Not at all, Ken. Tell you what – why don’t you come back with me to my ap… my house, and you can tell me more about the things you like? Would you like that?”

In the minutes since you’d begun talking to him, Ken shone brighter than ever, practically buzzing with enthusiasm, gilded with a golden halo from the unrepentant sun as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Perfect. You lead the way, I’m ready whenever you are!”

#ken #barbie movie #ryan gosling #ken x reader #ryan gosling ken #ken x fem reader #ken barbie #female reader

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callsigns-haze · 3 months

Text

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 9

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8

The crisp autumn air filled my lungs as I stepped out of the unmarked car, the scene before me bathed in the eerie glow of flashing police lights. Yellow tape cordoned off the area, marking it as a crime scene. As I approached, the faint scent of blood mingled with the scent of damp earth, a grim reminder of the violence that had unfolded here.

My gaze swept over the scene, taking in the chaos of scattered evidence markers and the hushed whispers of forensic technicians. A knot formed in my stomach as I knelt beside the lifeless body, the victim's eyes frozen in a silent scream, their expression a haunting echo of the horror they must have endured.

The puzzle stretched out before me, a labyrinth of clues and half-truths waiting to be unraveled. I knew that behind every shattered life lay a story waiting to be told, and it was my job to piece together the fragments of evidence until the truth emerged from the shadows.

As I surveyed the scene, a single thought echoed in my mind: In a world stained with darkness, it was my duty to seek out the light, no matter how faint it may seem.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the crime scene. My partner, Detective Miller, approached, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

"What do we have, Agent?" he asked, his voice low.

I rose to my feet, my mind already racing with possibilities. "Looks like a professional job," I replied, gesturing to the neat arrangement of evidence. "No signs of struggle, no witnesses. It's like they vanished into thin air."

Miller nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Any leads?"

I shook my head, frustration gnawing at the edges of my mind. "Not yet. But we'll find something. We always do."

Together, we began to comb through the scene, each piece of evidence a thread in the intricate tapestry of the investigation. As the hours stretched on, the night seemed to grow darker, the weight of the unsolved mystery pressing down on my shoulders like a leaden cloak.

But I refused to give in to despair. I had seen the worst that humanity had to offer, and yet still, I believed in the power of justice to prevail.

And so, as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, I made a silent vow to the victim lying cold and lifeless before me: We would find the truth, no matter the cost.

---------

The family dinner meetings with the Chevaliers was quite a different kind of game. Alexandre was back in the family but instead Romain left. It wasn't an upgrade but it wasn't a downgrade either. You didn't want to be here, neither did Matthew.

The two of you had put time aside to talk but marvelously his father calls you into a family meeting before you could get any say.

"Where is dad and that whore!" Joris exclaims as you shake your head in disappointment but also since you feel lightheaded. You've been feeling off recently.

"Joris, stop. Your father respects her that's all that matters," you say out of frustration that he blames and calls the other woman wrong things. You lean against the railing as Joris screams at you. "Whose side are you on Y/N?!? Pull yourself together!" You don't even flinch but what's worse is that Matthew doesn't even stand up for you or defend you but instead his brother Alexandre tells Joris to control himself.

What is truly going on.

--------

Today was a day that nobody in the mission force and organisation wanted to experience. The day that a worker is killed. These days every single accomplishment feels useless, especially when a person is a fellow teammate.

Jake was….well devastated. Having a dagger get killed in the streets is something that never should have happened. Jake was close with the squad and so where you but this is something that affected him more.

"I'm sorry babe," you say sitting beside him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling Jake in close as he sat on the couch for ages just staring at his feet. You kissed the top of his head as he leaned into your chest and you wrapped around him more.

"Why Bob though, why in such a way." You didn't know how to answer that question. Bob's body was found cold dead this very early morning in the bin containers outside his house. His neck was twisted, which must have caused the death.

You were on the night shift last night so when they called you to check it out if it was him you wanted to throw up. His skin is all purple and glasses smashed. He had two big prints on two sides of his head. It was a disgusting sight to see.

He must have been drugged. From behind they believe. The person must have snuck up on him the previous night as he was throwing out some trash and treated him like some. After being drugged they could have done anything to him but it seems that the death occurred while being awake so he was on drugs and still awake before his neck got snapped.

"It's ok. Just a little longer, ok? Then this will all be ok." Your small words of encouragement meant a whole big wave of reality to woosh over Jake. Just a few more days until everything will be ok.

You knew that Jake needed this. He needed a sense of that everything will be okay and that he won't be alone. He needed to have the sense that his family will never leave him alone. His family is you and Kai.

------

You were at the base today with only Phoenix and Rooster. Jake took the day off and anyways someone needed to take care of Kai after all. Phoenix looked wrecked, she had just lost her partner and closest friend.

Bradley didn't look any better. Hair messed up and no cocky smile was on his face. You looked at the two of them in pity. You didn't know bob well but you could tell that people cared about him and his death will be something that won't go past without a second thought.

"It doesn't make sense," Phoenix lets out, breaking the overwhelming silence and you look at her to see what her point was. Bradley began to look at her now but you didn't look, you inspected. You weren't sure what this was about but hopefully it was what you meant.

"Bob was looking into one of Justin's cases and boom, dead. And it is his style of murdering!" Phoenix may be on a track here. Bob recently started pulling out files to do with Justin and now magically he's dead. That's wrong.

Justin was a mad man and was trained to be an agent but when an agent became a murder of another that is one thing that'll never be forgiven.

Phoenix had a plan and it could actually work. If the three of you got up and stood in Justin's way, he'd pay for the pain and misery he brought upon agent Floyd.

"Accusing is a one way gate to hell, Phoenix," you warn her as the three of you enter the fight area where a case just has begun to be carried out. She looks at you in doubt but simply nods. Your opinions were tolerance. They were purity and adapted by everyone and she knows that you've been in severe cases so it is better to trust you word to word.

------

"So you want them all gone?" You ask Olivia as she goes through all her plans with you. She trusted you and you respect that but she wants all the Chevaliers gone, things you learned today were horrid.

Olivia knows the Chevaliers because of the accident that happened ten years ago. The Fortuny family were….not so fortunate. Firstly, father drowned and his body washed back to shore and then his wife and two kids. The mother and two kids were killed in a car accident. The car was pushed off the cliff road and burned that way, it was done with purpose.

It was not an accident.

The only one who made it out with life was the daughter Emma. She managed to survive the car explosion. She was also Alexandre's girlfriend back then but the incident was one of the reasons he left the family.

She died in the hospital a week later.

But that was all a lie. She didn't die. You didn't know much about this case because ten years back you were just a fifteen year old girl living back in America with Tom and Sarah, so french incidents didn't even reach you.

Emma didn't die that week though. The incident never killed her. She was sitting right in front of you. She wanted revenge as well. Olivia is Emma.

-------

You're running, the case escalated instantly. You didn't know how to get out or how to run from this but it was getting serious. You had only seconds to get out of her and survive. You grab your gun from your left hand slot in your belt and you point it at an angle once you sprint. You had to know every way of possible consequences. You needed out.

The antagonist that the three of you were meant to confront ran for it but had a load of artillery on him making him more dangerous than possible. You sprint and see him. He doesn't see you, that's the magic of this situation. You could pull any string, play any game but the one that comes out of this is you.

All you had to do is point your gun directly at that silhouette of the figure, all you had to do is pull the trigger. All you had to do was shoot.

You pull the trigger.

You never did it so fast in your life. Your bones trembled in fear. You had to get back to your squadron. You couldn't even check the body, you had to get back, being out in the open with no bulletproof jacket or proper protective gear risked your life.

You turn left, left and then right. It was like a maze but it had to be completed. You weave your way back and soon start to realise the familiar landmarks as previously. You don't know what it is but something like this scares you.

Missions like your previous one that you and Jake did together did not bother you but this one scared the sack out of you. You never knew what it was but it always trembled in your veins.

You finally see the squad and see Bradley standing there, he looks pale, as if his life was crushed. You take your gun out of the right pocket and walk over to the gear technician that takes your weapon off you and counts the left bullets.

With slow easy steps you make your way to Bradley's side to notice him crying. You had no clue what had just occurred. You never seen the grown man cry and out of instinct you wrap your arms around him as a comfort mechanism.

"They shot her, Cobra. She's gone too." He whispers that in between sons on your shoulder. It takes you a good second to figure out the situation but you finally understand.

Phoenix got shot to death.

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