#disneyprincemuke fir

[disneyprincemuke]

i forgot that you existed * sv5

you didn't expect to run into your ex ever again, yet here you are and you find yourself pretending like you'd never met him before.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!reader

trope: fake amnesia

wc: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)

you hide behind a display in the middle of the supermarket, stacked boxes keeping you somewhat hidden from the man you’ve stalked the moment you got out of your car in the parking lot. you keep your head down to avoid getting recognised back.

an uncanny lookalike of the man you swore was the love of your life stepped out of the car parked next to yours and it’s like you’ve been in a trance ever since. you can’t tear your eyes away from the man now sauntering within the supermarket with a basket hanging from his arms loosely.

because you know that you packed everything up and moved halfway across the world when you thought you’d go crazy from the reality that he’d left you at the altar — on your wedding day.

it’s been 5 years since he watched you walk down the aisles of a church with your shared friends and families covered in a white dress that took you 2 months to choose. an entire lifetime ago since you had taken one last step up to the altar before he had run in the direction you came from and never be seen again.

in the back of your mind, you remember the way it felt like life had lost all its meaning after that day. life started to grey itself out as the living soul was sucked out of your body.

all for him to relay a message through his parents, thoroughly embarrassed to tell you that all the man could muster up was a pathetic and humiliating apology: ‘i’m sorry’.

he’s sorry? that’s all he could say to you after spending — wasting — 6 years of your life with him, planning your future and ending it abruptly on the day you were supposed to vow that you’d spend the rest of your lives together.

you’d daydreamed several times about the things you would say to him if you’d ever chanced upon running into him again. it went several different ways: sometimes you thought about throwing punches for making you question everything or falling to your knees in tears asking him how and why he could do this to you, and sometimes the scenario goes in a way that he’s the one begging you for an apology at your feet and saying that he regrets it.

the days seemed to pass by slowly and painfully after he’d left you. but you just remembered waking up one morning and hating the way your reflection stared at you in the mirror.

you were a mess.

so you packed your things and left everything behind — you moved halfway across the world and started anew. you haven’t regretted that decision.

and what are the chances that you’d run into sebastian in an obscure supermarket on the other side of the globe half a decade later? you had left your hometown for this very possibility only for it to happen much later in life at a time you would never have expected.

now that you’re stalking him (unstealthily), everything you’d sworn that you would say to him is thrown out of the window.

you follow him into an aisle and linger at the edge of the aisle, feigning interest in the baking goods displayed neatly on the shelves. you pick up an item and drop your head to look at it, though your eyes can’t help but trail up to the man standing on the other end of the aisle.

it really is him. no matter how much reasoning you do with yourself, there’s no denying that sebastian vettel is standing in the very same property as you for the first time since the unfortunate demise of your relationship.

you seriously consider walking up to him and clocking him in the face then bolting away. because you know — used to — him and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw back a punch.

sebastian turns his head in your direction abruptly, making you whirl back around to the shelf in front of you. and then it happens.

you hear your name being called out by a voice you’d longed to hear after all these years.

you start to panic. you consider all of the possible options to escape the situation. maybe you still have time to start running? it’s just a supermarket; there’s several others everywhere else. you can just start doing your grocery shopping elsewhere.

ah, but this is the biggest supermarket closest to you and it’s got everything you need.

but as sebastian slowly approaches you, you find your mouth speaking faster than your head could process. “do i know you?”

do i know you? where the hell did that come from?

sebastian stops a a distance from you, jaw hung as he tilts his head at your words. “what?”

you swallow the formed lump in your throat as you look at him, wide eyed and hands balled into fists by your side. perhaps you should just pretend that he’s got the wrong person.

yet it seems that your mouth will continue to run without your brain. “yeah, i got into an accident a couple of years ago. it affected my memory.” you smile slightly. “did i know you?”

you watch as he tries to find a response to what you’ve just said. and he’s better than you, you think, because he still managed to find something to say. “accident? i’m so sorry.” you wave off his concerns with a hand in the air and a shake of your head. “we, uh,” he sucks in a breath, “used to be really good friends.”

good friends. men really are liars.

“oh, what a shame,” you say with a grimace, as if you mean it. as if you don’t actually remember the way he’d made you feel small. “how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face. i haven’t seen you in any photo albums.”

you start to think that your mouth has a mind of its own. you swear that you’ve seen a movie with this exact plot: feigning memory loss to avoid the real consequences of running into someone from your past life. or it could just be a result of all your panic.

because he is in every single photo album you’d brought along with you. there’s holes in those albums, photos with sebastian now sitting in a box in the store room of your little apartment, in the deepest corner where it cannot be acquired without hardwork.

you lie again with a soft laugh. “when i was told my memory was completely wiped from my accident, i took off in an attempt to start again. but how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face again.”

sebastian stands there in silence for a moment. “i’d really love to catch up some time,” sebastian offers with a small smile. “find out about this new life you have and everything.”

you feel an insurmountable rage fill your chest. your chest feels heavy and your head starts to pound.

you should really just start running back to your car now.

“that would be a great idea!” what the hell. that’s literally not what you had meant to say. you were considering laying it on him and screaming at him in the middle of the supermarket. it’s just so unfair that he stands here acting like he hadn’t driven you to the brink of insanity in your 20s.

“fantastic!” sebastian grins fishing for his phone in the pocket of his jacket. “let me get your number so we can find a day we’re both free? i have to head back to finish unpacking my boxes — i just relocated here for work recently.”

“what are the chances,” you joke through gritted teeth, typing your number into the contact sheet he’d pulled up for you. you should just run now with his phone and throw it into the lake nearby. “well, it’s nice running into you. i’ll hopefully see you soon!” you perk up and turn around. “sorry, i didn’t catch your name earlier.”

he grins, “it’s sebastian.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification

series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @cinnamongirlontv

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke fir

[disneyprincemuke]

build me up * ls2

two hit men, one target: each other. the problem? you're soulmates.

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

trope: soulmates destined to kill each other

wc: 1.2k

(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)

logan’s not a murderer per se. well, he kinda is. but with a purpose; he’s not just going around killing people for no reason.

there’s always a reason.

but when he’d been assigned to take down an assassin of some sort, he almost hesitated. because it was you and well, the bias is very simply explainable: you’re very beautiful.

he’s a hitman — not a robot. he can still find people attractive.

he’d been contracted to take out the person sneaking up on the big people he’s working for. naturally, they’d want you taken out.

he’s followed you around for a couple of hours now, trying to find a perfect time to lunge at you and make it quick. there wouldn’t be much to admire seeing when the world is still very much monochrome in his eyes.

he wondered, watching you devour your dinner just an hour ago, if there was somebody that would mourn your death. not in a psychopathic manner, just in a sense that he’s also all alone.

ever since he’d taken the genius career path to be a hitman of some sorts, it’d been easier to be by himself. nobody to look after, and nobody in danger from the things he’s gotten himself into.

his want to eventually meet his soulmate and see the world in colour would have to wait. it might even need to be scratched off from his list completely.

when he comes home to an empty apartment, nobody in it but his dog happily wagging its tail up at him, he gets the urge to drop everything to pursue the life he wanted. a nice home somewhere discreet with his soulmate and maybe kids.

his picture perfect future gets the best of him sometimes. he’s got his letter of resignation collecting dust in the bottom of his email drafts but whenever he comes close to hitting send, there’s hesitation.

because what if he doesn’t actually ever find his soulmate? does that mean that he would have to go about life in black and white all by himself?

so logan doesn’t ever send the email out. he will just have to eventually find the time to deal with the inevitable loneliness looming over him.

it’s not an easy lifestyle: trying to be a hitman for a big corporation and desire for normalcy.

logan follows behind you, slowly and quite a distance, into an alleyway. he keeps a hand against the cold material of the gun stowed away underneath his jacket — for comfort — and to finish you off fast.

your sigh echoes in the empty alleyway as your footsteps come to a slow halt. you kick the ground slightly and drop your head, starting to dig for something in your bag.

and that’s his cue.

but just as he launches to get you, he finds himself frozen when he hears a click. there’s a barrel of a gun pointed right at him with your back still turned to him.

instinctively, he draws his gun out, pointed right back at you. and he finds himself in a situation.

“do you think i’m stupid?” you mutter with sarcasm. “i know when i’m being followed.”

you whirl around and logan almost drops to his knees. he finds the boring black and white motif that he once thought he would never get rid of, slowly fading away. he can decipher the warm glow of the orange lights in the alleyway and the colour of your skin and the colour of your hair.

you don’t mask your shock very well. you flinch and your hand falters when the bright green of logan’s eyes greet you when you turned and locked eyes with him.

your gaze softens as you try to figure out what’s happening. only then it hits you that this man who has a gun pointed right at you is your soulmate.

you steady your arm immediately and tighten your grip on the gun. “i noticed you the minute i stepped out of the restaurant,” you say lowly, “why are you following me?”

logan lifts both of his hands in surrender, his gun pointed into the air. “are you just going to ignore what happened?”

the colour of your eyes mesmerises logan. to hell with his task, there’s a more pressing matter: he can see colours.

colours that seemed like a mere myth, growing up with parents who would describe it to him all the time with the biggest smiles. he wonders now if his eyes are as beautiful as his mother would tell him when he was growing up.

if he cared to ask you, you would say they’re the best thing to be greeted with. but that’s not important.

just like every other kid, growing up, he always thought what it would be like to meet his soulmate and watch the world transition to something he’s only ever heard his friends talk about growing up.

it wasn’t until the reality of losing a soulmate struck him when he was 19, when he lost his mother. and eventually watched his father grieve, and then lost him too.

and friends of friends bear stories of losing their soulmates, describing it as the most devastating feeling. he decided at 20 that he wouldn’t be on the receiving end of that pain.

so logan distracted himself training at some shooting range down the street. some burly man liked what he saw and recruited him.

and now here he is.

“i’m not fucking around with you.” you keep your guard up walking towards him and logan doesn’t move another inch. “i know you’re not here to mug me, so what gives?”

logan’s eyes trail down to the gun barrel now pressed against his chest. he lifts his eyes with a small smile. “would it help if i said i think you’re pretty?”

you dig the barrel into his chest. logan stumbles a step back. “i will kill you without thinking twice.”

“okay!” logan whines. “i was… i’m being paid to kill you.” he watches the annoyance on your face grow. “but please, acknowledge what just happened.”

you look up at him, trying to figure out if he’d just make an attempt for your life either way. you snap your head at the item still in his hand and he follows your stare. “i’ll unarm it,” he offers. “please, let’s just talk.”

“one wrong move, i’ll shoot you in the leg,” you threaten, gesturing your head towards the ground.

you weren’t shy of falling victim to great love stories of meeting your soulmate. you watched your best friend and her soulmate tear each other to the brink of insanity trying to make it work, evidently throwing in your face how it’s all just an illusion, and gave up on it.

the story of how you landed a job as an assassin is a long story, deriving from your childhood and your parents’ businesses growing up. all there is to know is that you’ve been here almost your entire life, courtesy of your parents.

given the brutality of all of your lines of businesses, you often think about how they managed to make their marriage work.

seeing colour has always been emphasised in yout society. it’s a magical moment, you’ve heard people say. but nobody ever tells you what to do when you’re meant to kill the other.

and you’re curious… you’re thinking, what now?

frankly, logan is thinking the same thing.

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification

series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @ @cinnamongirlontv

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke fir