#and they are all so insecure about it that they think everyone hates them and all women think theyre dogshit so they are annoying and
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| ALL THE THINGS I AM NOT - One shot (3.097 words).
| Summary - Since Peter Parker joined the team, things aren't the same anymore. Why does everyone seem to prefer him to you?
(Inspired by that post from @th3-c0rps3-r0gu3)
| Tags & warnings - soft mom!Natasha Romanoff x adoptive daughter!Reader, former widow!R, angst with a bit of comfort, happy ending, R&Nat are insecure (they're trying their best), self-hatred, mention of past traumas, R is injuried (during a mission), mention of blood&death.
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
You wouldn’t say that you hate Peter Parker.
It is a strong word to describe your feelings, and you don’t like what it implies. You can’t hate someone who hasn’t done anything wrong to you, someone like him. He is the opposite of a bad person, so why I am feeling that way? He is nice. That’s what everyone is saying about him, and you know they are right, even if you don’t like to admit it. He always has that smile when you two are talking, answering you kindly even when you’re trying to test his limits.
It would’ve been easier to not like him if he had any defects, but he doesn’t. You’ve tried to find some, you’ve spent hours observing him, waiting for the moment he would make a fatal mistake, but the moment never came. You even started to question if he was human.
Natasha told you that humans make mistakes all the time, and that you can’t avoid them. It’s normal, she said, that’s what makes you one. You used to think you were better than that, better than everyone, but are you? When you look at the boy, you are not sure anymore.
He is everything I am not.
You thought you were doing good, really. You made a lot of progress, and effort, since you've joined the team. Two years ago, most of them wouldn't even agree to let you out of your room. Now, you could talk normally to almost all of them.
You thought that you were doing things right with the team, but you slowly realised that your attempts are not enough anymore. You have made a lot of progress since the first time you set foot in the compound, no one will deny it, but you are not at his level yet.
Two years ago, you wouldn’t even step out of your room during the day, barely sleeping when the night came around, and at best you would exchange wary glances with the team. You didn’t trust them nor they did, and even if you are now talking, it hasn't changed a lot. That’s something they never told you, but their eyes and actions have done it for them. These two never lie, not when you know how to interpret them.
They don’t even let you go on a mission alone, let alone attending the most important meetings. You think it is stupid because you are the most skilled of everyone here. Well, maybe it’s not true, you never managed to beat Natasha in a fight, but you are sure that you are at least as useful as them on the field.
I am too young, just a kid.
That’s what they call you, but the nickname doesn’t carry the same kindness as when it’s for Peter, their voices being tinged with disdain. Except when it’s from Natasha, you like it when she calls you nicknames. She doesn’t do it because she thinks you are not capable of handling yourself, but to remind you that you have time. The time to learn, to make mistakes, to grow. You both know that you will never be a normal teenager, it is too late for that, and nothing can erase the first years of your life, but the redhead is confident : you��ll learn how to live, you just need a bit of help.
She is the only one that doesn’t seem to treat you differently, but you are not sure if she counts. You two are the same. You have been through the same things, and she is the one that brought you here, it is obvious that she wouldn’t let you go.
She wouldn’t, right?
You don’t know. You are not sure of anything, everything seems to go backward since he joined the team. All the progress you’ve made? Gone. In a few weeks, he did better than you’ll ever be able to do, and you don’t even understand how that’s possible.
You can beat him in a fight whenever you want, no matter the conditions. Even with your eyes closed, and your hands tied behind your back, you would be able to put him down in a matter of seconds. You are fast, strong and attentive while he is clumsy, dreamy and weak. He can’t even use a gun properly, always missing his target when it’s moving, even slowly. Whenever you are looking at him, all you can see is a kid that has no idea what he's doing here but thought it would be fun. A kid that was given a toy, and thought that it made him the most important person on that earth, a hero.
I am everything he is not.
Yet, they prefer him, so there must be something you are missing. Since he joined the team, he has created a strong bond with all the Avengers, even with Natasha. You thought your relationship with her was special, but it’s apparently not that much. You saw them laughing together, but you’ve seen worse when you witnessed the woman ruffling the boy’s hair. You are sure she would braid the boy’s hair too if it was longer.
Well, maybe I hate him.
You have every reason to feel this way when he was stealing what’s yours, destroying what you had taken so long to build. Only, it somehow didn’t feel right. Natasha doesn’t belong to you, none of them are. They are humans, and humans have feelings, they don’t have to get along with everyone. That’s what you’ve learned from the redhead, but you only realise now that it is not only true for you ; you can’t force anyone to appreciate you. Yet, you would have liked to live up to their expectations, something the boy seems to do effortlessly.
He is always smiling, saying the right thing at the right moment, laughing with the others. Since he arrived, he has never made anyone angry, he never had one of those violent breakdowns where you would hit someone by accident. Natasha says it is not your fault, but you know that the others don’t think the same way.
Durings meals, apart from their missions, Peter Parker is the only thing they know how to talk about. Everything he does is praised. Even the things you were doing as a kid, things you’ve never been congratulated for because everyone had to know that, it was normal. Natasha said it was not, but you are not sure if you believe her yet because if it’s not, where are your praises?
Maybe it is because they don’t expect anything from him. He is just a kid who’s learning, not a threat to be dealt with, let alone a weapon to train. No, Peter Parker is none of that. He is nothing more than a stupid kid who’s trying his best to save the city, and it’s a story you can’t bear to hear anymore. Just his name makes you feel as if your whole body is burning. It’s a feeling you can’t name, but you are sure that you don’t like it.
He is everything I am not.
If you saved him that day, it is definitely not because you appreciate him. You even had a moment of hesitation before throwing yourself between him and that bullet, wouldn’t your life be easier if he wasn’t here? No, it wouldn’t.
You didn’t want to take that bullet for him, especially not when this is the consequence of his own stupidity, but it was the obvious choice. You hate being sent on a mission with him because it is like going with a baby widow. You have done everything right, he has not, and yet you are the one suffering the consequences of his recklessness.
If he had died today, it would’ve been your fault. You know it’s not true, but you can already hear them tell you that it is. That’s why you did it, because you know they value his life more than yours. It is not easy to accept that you are not the most important person on the team anymore. In fact, you have never been there since you joined the Avengers, but you believe that it was true before.
Those people, they have powers and technology. They can do things you will never be able to achieve, no matter how hard you try. You hate that too, that feeling of failure. Yet it is not your fault if you are trapped in a competition that you can’t win. So you thought that, maybe, if you save their precious boy, then you would get the attention you wanted.
I didn’t want to, but I did what I was supposed to.
Except it doesn’t feel right. The Quinjet was quiet during the return journey. You didn’t even know where the boy was, and honestly couldn’t care less. You were even relieved to know that he couldn’t witness you in a moment of weakness, leaving you alone to inspect the wound left by the bullet. You told him it was nothing, but you lied, and you don’t even need to take a close look at your abdomen to know that.
However, it wasn’t the pain that was worrying you. The only thing you could think about was their reactions. Natasha told you many times that you are allowed to make mistakes, that it makes you human, not weak, but you know she is lying. You’ve already heard Fury scolding people for their mistakes, even the Avengers sometimes fought for the same reason, and you definitely don’t want to deal with that right now.
So when the Quinjet eventually lands, you go straight to your room. You were scared to step foot in the common areas in this condition because you knew your mom was waiting for you there. Maybe she had made your favourite meal, or maybe she decided to do the boy’s favourite. This time, you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes.
You’ve seen how she acts with the boy. She is so caring, always smiling, and her eyes are even shining. You don’t think it has ever happened when she is with you. Her expression is always tinged with sadness, perhaps pity. It is when you witness those moments that you realise that she deserves more than you will ever be able to give her : a normal kid.
Maybe she realised it too.
Last night, she came home late, called in for a last-minute mission, and she missed your return by a few hours. She had no idea how your mission went, and even if she trusts you to handle yourself, she can’t help but feel concerned. She doesn’t like to know that you’re on a mission without her because anything can happen.
If Natasha was already worried, it is only when the following morning came that the feeling began to gnaw at her from the inside. She even started to bite her nails again. It was almost ten in the morning, and no one had seen you yet. They say that you are probably sleeping, and they might be right, but what if they are not?
She knows that some missions can be exhausting, and not only physically, what if it was one of those? You didn’t seem to be doing well lately. Despite the appearances, she noticed every little change in your behaviour, and she is sad to see you going backwards. She guessed that, maybe, you needed a little space, but she is no longer sure she made the right choice. She has the feeling that your relationship has deteriorated in recent weeks, almost as if you were avoiding her.
The redhead could no longer bear to stare at the hands of the medical bay’s clock, all she wanted to do was go, and check on you, but she couldn’t. She made a promise to the boy’s aunt. She glances at Peter who was asleep, he has been injured during the mission, nothing serious, he should be out of here the following morning. However, she promised her aunt to look after him when she couldn’t.
She always keeps her promises.
Natasha didn’t bat an eye all night, but even if she had wanted to sleep, she wouldn’t have been able to. She couldn’t stop thinking. When the day came, she still had no idea what to do. Widows aren’t known to be good at expressing their feelings. The woman always felt awkward in her interactions with you, scared that her actions could do more harm than good. Maybe you weren’t the one that needed a bit of space.
“How is she?” is the first thing the boy asked when he woke up that morning, but the frown on the Avenger’s face let him know that she had no idea what he was talking about. “We got a bit of a … situation during the mission” he explained, avoiding saying that his recklessness put them in danger, “we both got hurt, but it is nothing too serious”, he quickly added when he saw the expression on the redhead face changing suddenly.
The boy tried to reassure her, but it was too late. The woman barely heard him as she was rushing out of the medical bay. She was an idiot. She should’ve checked on you the moment she stepped foot on the compound, she should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t go to the medical bay on your own. You’ve always hated those places because it is where you are the most vulnerable.
It was almost eleven when she knocked at your door. She did it three times, but each of them was met with an oppressive silence. When she tried to open it, she discovered that it was locked. However, there isn’t a door in that world that can stop a widow. In less than a minute, she manages to open it, and enters the room.
She understands something is wrong when she sees your form under the covers. You would never stay in bed that late, being awake before she is most of the time. If at first she was hesitant to step in, she almost ran to your bed when you didn’t reply to her calling your name multiple times. Your sleep is so light that someone walking across the corridor is usually enough to wake you up in a flash.
She pulls back the covers without thinking twice about it, and the view she sees is definitely not what she would call “nothing serious”. The sheets are covered in blood, your blood, and you are not sleeping at all, she can see how you are struggling to keep your eyes open. She is not even sure you noticed her presence.
"Baby?" she tried to call again, but you didn’t react to the nickname either. "Baby, what happened? Talk to me, please, open your eyes", she said, kneeling by your side.
She shakes you slowly, but it has no effect. You don’t react before her hands grip your face, her nails leaving marks on your skin because of the brutality of her precipitous gesture. She is trying to open your eyelids to see your eyes when a whine escapes your lips.
You have no idea what’s happening, but don’t have the energy to ask the question. You just wish the woman would let you go back to your comfortable slumber, far from the pain, and that world of misery you were trapped in. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stole your blanket, leaving you shivering with cold, and she wouldn’t stop talking, worsening your headache.
When she takes you in her arms, being as careful as she could, she notices how cold you were. Yet, you seemed to be sweaty. She doesn’t waste more time, almost running back to the medical bay. You were hanging in her arms as a rag doll would, your head dangling painfully on the side, and the same was true for your limbs.
She held you firmly in her arms, constantly glaring at you, as if she feared you might disappear if she let her guard down. On the way, she kept mumbling things that you couldn’t understand, not knowing if those were really intended for you, or if it was a way to reassure herself. Maybe it was both.
When the woman pushed the medical bay door, she didn’t even need to yell for someone to come. The second the doctors saw you, they knew it was an emergency.
It is only a few days after that they let you out of the medicine that was keeping you out. The first thing you felt was the pain you tried to ignore since you've been shot. A whine escapes your lips. You felt your mom close to you before you saw her. She probably didn't sleep or left or eat since you've been, no matter for how long it have been. You feel a bit guilty at the thought.
“Don’t you dare to do that ever again,” she whispered, holding you as close as she could against her chest. One of her hands rested on your back, gripping the soft fabric of your hospital gown, while the other one was stroking your hair, “you scared me to death …” she added, and you felt really stupid for not realising that she had always cared for you, and probably always with, but you were too blinded by jealousy to see it.
“I am… sorry,” you managed to reply in a hoarse voice, “I was scared. I wanted to show you that I can be strong too,” you whispered, “I wanted to prove that I’m worth loving,” you eventually admitted, your voice being so low that, at first, the redhead wasn’t sure if she heard correctly. It broke her heart to realise that it was her fault. You didn’t need space, you needed her by your side, and now she was here, you wouldn’t let her go, holding her as you could, not minding the pain it caused in your abdomen.
"But my little dove, you are already the strongest person I know, you don't need to prove it anymore to anyone,” she whispered, “and I will always love you, I won’t let you doubt it,” she added, letting you go to cup your jaws with her hands. She let her thumbs brushing your forehead before she kissed it, repeating the three words you were dying to hear the past weeks again, and again, and again.
You could both feel tears running down your cheeks.
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Tag list - @godhatesgoodgirls
#a spes writing#mcu fanfiction#reader insert#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff comfort#angst with comfort#angst with a happy ending#one shot#natasha romanoff x fem!reader
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Introducing; Yuichi Usagi-Cuddles!
There’s a slight typo in his basic character bio, (first, grey image) other than “yuich,” his family in America lives in the part of the hidden city under Jersey. He lives in Jersey. He’s a Jersian. So in terms of leosagi, it’s gonna be an enemies-to-lovers comedy-of-errors muahahahaha!!
More (a LOT more) info about him as his own guy under the cutoff :D ⬇️
Basically; He’s a silly guy! I feel like his kinda buffoonish, embarrassing personality in canon is simultaneously PERFECT for Rise’s writing style & grievously underrated in fanon depictions. So he’s this clownish type of character, haha.
Okay, time to go hyperfixation mode.
Adhd & his stubborn attitude;
He has ADHD! Executive function issues makes it hard for him to start tasks & manage himself, so he relies on his teams (the Mad Dogs when he’s training & the Rise equivalent to his canon friend group on his own time) to not only instruct him, but also hold him accountable & keep him on task. He’s body-doubling without even realizing it.
Although, he resents the things he does to accommodate his disability. He doesn’t notice that doing the things he does genuinely helps or why so he thinks he’s using them as a crutch because of incompetence. Every time he gets stubborn and ignores the things he needs to do, he crashes and burns. When he was new in town with no teacher & no friends who liked martial arts, he became a huge sad sack until the kraang invasion.
His character arc is about being able to rely on other people & accommodations. That relying on a bit more help than other people doesn’t make you incompetent, choosing to seek out the support you need so you can do your best is the true mature thing to do. I was inspired by canon Yuichi’s struggles with paying attention and Rise’s themes of cooperation. (& also my own experience with adhd and learning with executive function issues & junk)
Relationships w/ the turtles;
The Mad Dogs agree to let him like, intern with them? So he can see what it’s like to be a vigilante, they offer him advice and they occasionally go on low to mid-tier missions with his help. They take him on cause they think more heroes and allies out there, the less work they have to do haha. Also, one of the writers mentioned a season 3 would have them adjusting to being ~official heroes,~ I think this would be them trying to be “real.”
He’s closest friends with Mikey out of the whole group! (Adhd solidarity) Then it goes Donnie -> Raph -> and finally Leo (for now muahaha)
I tried to give Leosagi an interesting dynamic with constructing his character like this; They have similar insecurities from drawing self-worth from technical capabilities that they can develop past together, but Leo is clever and calculating about it vs Yuichi being rash and impulsive. So like smart x stupid but they’re the same actually.
His Family in Jersey;
He speaks english fluently because he’s visited his American family frequently his whole life, they’re very close. He has an accent though since he mainly speaks Japanese.
I haven’t fleshed out this concept enough, but I think members of his jersey/Cuddles half of the family would be spoofs of characters from the original yojimbo comics, implied to be reincarnations? Except Miyamoto ofc. (i’ll explain later..)
Reusing the ninja orphans plotline from the original show, his family utilizes their cute appearances to run an orphanage too. They wonder why this Chizu lady is constantly showing up with unhoused children, but they’re just grateful they’re safe now.
Everyone in his family HATES Mrs. Cuddles, they all think she’s in prison and are happy about it. She might’ve given him that scratch on his face.
Additional;
He is gay.
Thank you for your time.
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#artists on tumblr#rottmnt#leosagi#leoichi#tmnt#tmnt fanart#adhd#adhd character#rottmnt usagi#tmnt leonardo#rottmnt leo
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Actually I’m making a separate post about this. Before you read, please understand that when I use the words “feminine” and “femininity” I am exclusively talking about the patriarchal stereotypes, aesthetics, gender roles, and other expectations ascribed to the female sex in a given culture. I do not mean “the intrinsic aspect of being female/a girl/a woman/however you wanna phrase it.” The concept of femininity is a construct. It’s a set of traits and roles and expectations and aesthetics that anyone can have. So when I say that some female characters are more or less feminine, I am not commenting on identity, I am commenting on presence or absence of traits ascribed to girls and women and conformity to sexist expectations. I am making this distinction because in the past it has been assumed that when I said that a girl was less feminine, I was saying she was less of a girl, which isn’t at all what I was saying. Anyway.
I have a knee-jerk reaction to the idea that the only reason Arya didn’t like “ladylike” activities is that she had bad experiences with them with Sansa, the septa, and her mother. Like the one exception to this is that I love the idea that she’d be good at embroidery if she was able to use her left hand. But otherwise I think it risks treading into gender essentialism. Like “the only reason a girl wouldn’t like and be good at “feminine” things is if she had bad experiences.” I know that’s not what most people mean to imply but I dunno I just think it would be really boring if it was like oh turns out Arya loved dresses all along like it gives Allison getting a makeover in Breakfast Club.
Like oh the girl who was insecure about not quite conforming? Well turns out that the answer to her insecurity is to conform! She just needed people to be nicer to her so she could become a feminine girl just like everyone else! No. There’s no power in that. The answer should be that social acceptance allows her to embrace who she is and have confidence in that! I want Arya to wear pants that allow her to run and play with children and a long cloak she’s embroidered with wildflowers. I feel like people generally understand that it’s sexist to have the resolution to the “I’m insecure because I’m not as feminine as other girls and have been mistreated for it” be “now that people have been kind to me I have become as feminine as other girls.” Like Chie in Persona 3. 
It undermines the criticism of the people who were doing said mistreatment. Like “You were right to be insecure! The answer is to change yourself! People bullying you for being different? Never fear! If you simply experience true kindness and acceptance, you can stop being different! No more insecurity because you can be just like everyone wants you to be and society itself doesn’t have to change!” There’s this dissonance in some fans where they can recognize that the way Arya was judged was wrong, but they still want Arya to end up being traditionally “ladylike.” And for me it’s just like. Why. That’s so boring. I don’t hate it as much as Arya growing up to be a ruthless killer but it seems like a betrayal of themes. My ideal end for Arya is that she’s home, she’s loved, she gets to be who she is. She has a family. She’s beloved by all the children in the Winterfell, not just her own. She teaches them about the wildlife and gives water dancing lessons to girls AND boys who want to learn. She braids her hair against her head to keep it out of the way and decorates the braids with flowers. It’s a very “happily ever after” sort of ending of course and not exactly what I think WILL happen (I do not have any idea what her endgame will be, to be clear, I’m just clarifying that I’m not theorizing I’m just imagining the best happiest ending for her I can think of that fits her character).
I just think that Arya doesn’t need to actually like dresses and be good at all the “feminine” activities and hobbies in order for her to be a beloved Lady, and it feels like that’s the undercurrent to the notion that Arya only dislikes traditionally “ladylike” pursuits as a result of trauma
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The Outsiders dating hcs
Johnny Cade
• he’s actually so obsessed with you
• yall could be dating for years and he’ll always have a crush on you
• he’s so shy around you like you are that mans idol
• ur his everything, he would sell all his organs for you to he happy
• absolute sucker for cuddles
• please kiss him he deserves it
• IMAGINE THE LIPSTICK TREND WITH HIM $:$4$(! BABYBOY COVERED IN LIPSTICK MARKS AFTER U KISS HIM
• doesn’t get jealous but insecure
• wishes he could buy you more stuff and thinks him not being able to gift you things and take you on dates makes him a horrible bf:(
• asks dally for relationship advice and immediately regrets it
Ponyboy Curtis
• writes love letters and poems for you
• he’ll leave them in random places without telling you, leaving you to find them later on
• LOVEEEESSS holding ur hand in public
• he reads to you when you have trouble sleeping
• gets both jealous and insecure
• yall never have serious fights just pointless bickering over dumb things like the color of something
• He fell in love with you when he heard you analyzing the plot of the movie that you two had just watched
• speaking of movies, he will go on rants to you explaining movies and the characters
• If he can’t sleep due to his nightmares he goes to your house
• he pushes you to do better in school and helps you with work and vise versa when needed
• sodapop constantly teases him about you and his whole face turns red
• when he was sick he was constantly talking about you, you never told him this though to save him from the embarrassment
Dallas Winston
• this boy has BADDDDD jealousy issues like you belong to him
• hes so toxic guys
• oh but you KNOWW hes a softie when you get him alone
• pda constantly because everyone needs to know your his
• he loves when you lay on his chest, it makes him feel complete
• would probably kill a soc if they said something about you
• and don’t get me started on someone catcalling you
• since you guys started dating he actually tries to stay out of trouble
• isn’t the best at understanding your emotions but will still listen to try his best to comfort you
• you walk this man like a DOG, he only listens to you
• did i mention hes a red flag
Two-Bit Matthews
• oh my god he never stops making dirty jokes
• WILL make u watch mickey mouse with him
• he teases you so much, he thinks the way your face gets red when your embarrassed is so cute
• the gang stopped getting drunk with him because all he talks about is you when hes drunk
• hugs from behind !!!!
• idk why but i feel like he loves to kiss you on the cheek
• he actually doesn’t shut up about you
• he shows off his switchblade to you to try and impress you
• darry makes you guys watch ponyboy together and ponyboy HATES IT.
• He loves makeout sessions
• in the car???? absolutely (u can interrupt that how you want)
• pleaseeeeeeeee run your fingers through his hair
Sodapop Curtis
• you always stop at the dx as an excuse to see him
• is love language is making you chocolate cakes LOL
• vents to you about pony and darry’s fights that he gets dragged into
• he’s too hot to be jealous to insecure , he knows he has nothing to worry about
• is sooooo sweet, like he babies you so much
• calls you petnames more than your actual name
• since he usually doesn’t have money to gift you things he goes out and picks his own flowers and makes a bouquet for you
• cuddlesssssss
• he runs his fingers through your hair
• IDK WHY BUT I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD DOODLE ON YOU WITH A PEN WHEN HES BORED
i hope yall enjoy this cause idk how i feel abt it but here u go!!!!
#the outsiders#s.e. hinton#johnny cade#ponyboy curtis#dallas winston#two bit mathews#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders fanfiction
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DI! | Sebastian Vettel
f1 masterlist | history series masterlist | season 1
history series season 2: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
summary: diana's surprise birthday party makes her realize that, maybe, just maybe, she's in love with seb... without her knowing he has a girlfriend already.
word count: 3907
warnings: not actually! seb just being the standard and making sure di has an incredible birthday party (but hiding her he actually has a gf)
taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff @roisinivy] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3
a/n: the best is about to come omg. i'm so happy and so scared at the same time because the next two chapters are gonna be THE ONES (everything is going to hell)
feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!
2009
Bahrain Grand Prix
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir
April 26
Sunday
Diana
Seb had managed to secure a well-deserved second position, just behind Jenson Button, whom he almost managed to beat. I wasn't usually very competitive, but since joining Red Bull Racing at the beginning of March I had been quite the opposite, especially as the results seemed to keep improving.
Now I understood the competitiveness that everyone in this sport exuded, always striving to be the best.
After getting out of the car, the German headed straight to Christian, some mechanics, and even to Helmut Marko, who were waiting for him in parc fermé to congratulate him properly. I knew I could be celebrating there with them, but my nervousness and, probably, the insecurity that had developed from the treatment I received last year, added to the stupid requirements of my contract, which was also stupid, made me stay with Britta.
"Diana, I've told you many times..."
"Yes, I know," I cut the woman off. "Diana, you have to be there, you deserve it!" I tried to imitate her perfectly while gesturing at the same time. "Britta, seriously, just leave it. I'll go some other time."
The woman raised an eyebrow. I knew she wanted me to keep talking, or at least say something that made sense and didn't avoid the conversation.
"You know you should be celebrating," she pointed towards the crowd of people dressed in navy blue. "You're part of the team."
"I don't think so," I reprimanded her. "At least, I feel completely out of place, and I know it's going to take me years to develop a good relationship with everyone, just like it's happening to you!"
"Diana, I've literally been here, in Formula 1, since 2007, when Seb joined Toro Rosso mid-season," she explained. "Do you think that's such a long time to get to know other people?"
I lowered my head and started fidgeting with my feet. I already knew she was right, and that all I was doing was making excuses because of my shyness, fear of rejection, or whatever it was.
"Well... maybe it'll take me a little longer because I'm not as open with people as you are."
While Britta kept trying to convince me to join the impromptu party, where everyone was already full of champagne and drinking from the bottle Sebastian had received on the podium, along with his trophy, my mind was scattered with other thoughts. Tomorrow, April 27, was my birthday. I couldn't help but think about it, no matter how hard I tried not to, even in the middle of all this celebration. If there was any reason why I had been hating my birthday for almost seven years, it was because of the negative change that 2002 had brought to our lives.
Before I could even respond to Britta, Rocky approached us enthusiastically. I had been working closely with him throughout the almost two hours of the race; now he seemed like a different person, with his hair and clothes completely covered in alcohol and small golden pieces of what seemed to be confetti.
"Diana, come here! We did an amazing job!"
The man, without giving me time to answer, opened his arms and enveloped me in a hug, even lifting me up a bit.
"Okay, okay, I get it, calm down!" I replied, surprised, while trying to free myself from his grip. "You don't have to thank me for anything. All the credit goes to Seb for driving the car."
Rocky shook his head as soon as my feet touched the ground again. He went into angry father mode and started a rant about the importance of teamwork.
"Diana, I don't care what role you have here," he encouraged me. "Here, we all work together, and each one of us is essential. You," he took me by the shoulders and shook me a bit, "are an essential part of the team, just like Seb, Mark, Christian, and even Britta," he said, earning himself a punch from the aforementioned woman. "If you think you don't have experience, you're here for that very reason: to gain it and become the best."
"Successes and failures are better handled together, Di.
Before I could respond to anything, Seb appeared with his trophy in one hand and, in the other, a bottle of champagne, possibly empty. His enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn't help but hide my smile. Seb, in response, just approached us and hugged us enthusiastically, as if we were the ones who had made all that effort to almost bring the victory home. That only made me even more infected with his joy. I was fully aware that getting on the podium meant a lot to him, just as it was special for me to have, in part, made that possible.
“You have no idea how happy I am, I swear,” he suddenly blurted out, trying to calm his breathing, altered by euphoria. “We're going to celebrate, but first, I need to shower.”
Roeske gave him a slight nod. I simply remained static, not knowing what to do or say because I didn't know if I was part of the last thing the boy had said.
“I also have a surprise for you, Di,” he continued, as if he had read my mind.
The word surprise left me completely bewildered, causing my thoughts to become totally confused as I tried to decipher Sebastian's words, who had quickly disappeared from my field of vision to go freshen up. Did he know that tomorrow was my birthday? No, that was impossible; although I was talking to Amelie yesterday...
I hated how gossiping people in the paddock were.
I turned to Britta and found her trying to hide her smile; her wrinkled eyes and contained laughter were possibly what gave her away.
“Do you know anything about this surprise Seb mentioned?”
“Me? Diana, for God's sake, you know me,” of course. I knew her well enough to know she was avoiding what I had asked, 'I don't know anything.”
“Britta…”
My insistence and desperation seemed not to affect the woman, who regained her composure and tried to pretend seriousness.
“Diana, trust Seb. You'll see it's something you'll like.”
Britta's words only increased my curiosity. Her smile suggested she had information, but she didn't want to say too much. So, I decided to play along and not give in to the temptation to keep insisting.
A few minutes later, Seb appeared dressed in a way that took me completely by surprise. He wasn't wearing the uniform he usually wore after a race; instead, he had on a white shirt, jeans, and the black Vans that I was so used to seeing.
“What, do you like how handsome I got for you?”
But...
I heard Britta clear her throat, giving Vettel a somewhat confused look. Sebastian composed himself, and I felt he gave his agent a slight apology with a nod. I couldn't help but think about how handsome he looked and why he would dress like that, as if we were going on a date.
“Of course,” I replied as confidently as I could, although nerves were consuming me inside, 'What exactly do you have in mind? Are you going to kill me, or something?'
“I wasn't thinking of killing you, but I do have a plan to steal your heart or something like that, although don't pay much attention to me.”
After those words, I saw how Roeske, again, glared at her client. Unlike me, she didn't seem particularly happy that Seb was possibly flirting with me.
“Sebastian, stop fooling around and behave!” she shouted, attracting the attention of those present. “You're not a horny hormonal teenager!”
The German laughed and then gently took my hand, guiding me out of the garage as he politely, and as he was already used to, said goodbye to all the team members, who were still celebrating their podium. Again, as we moved through the paddock, my mind was filled with curiosity about what would happen next.
As we progressed among the crowd, trying to avoid journalists and some fans, I began to feel a little uncomfortable and instinctively let go of Seb's hand. I felt that the way we were behaving could attract too much attention, and that was the last thing I needed at that moment. As soon as our contact ended, I saw how the expression on the pilot's face changed slightly, showing me with his expressive eyes what seemed to be disappointment.
“I'm sorry, Seb. I don't want this to turn into a scandal, I don't think…”
I tried to explain myself as best as I could, but I couldn't continue when his gaze shifted elsewhere. My words hung in the air. Deep down, I appreciated it. My discomfort increased just at the thought of cameras taking pictures of us to later publish them, just like happened in Monza.
Our relationship was based on a friendship that was getting better as the days went by, and I didn't want stupid rumors to ruin what I always wanted, and never had.
The whole way to the car was completely silent, which only served to increase my discomfort and make me regret having pulled away from Seb's grip. However, the tension was left behind once Seb opened the passenger door for me, bowing in a way that made me burst out laughing.
“'Lady Di, welcome to my humble carriage. I hope today's journey pleases you.”
I was used to seeing Sebastian Vettel the racer, but not Sebastian Vettel the gentleman. I liked the latter more than the former and wouldn't have any problem getting used to it given the chance.
The guy started driving towards an unknown destination, but tranquility enveloped me when, as always when I got into his car, he played music. The first chords of Umbrella filled me with excitement, and as soon as Rihanna's voice began to resonate throughout the vehicle, so did mine. My shyness disappeared when I was with Sebastian, and I even dared to say that he was the only person with whom I felt like myself.
I didn't even know why this happened to me, and a kind of excitement and desperation invaded me at the same time, especially when I noticed how at certain moments he would glance away from the road to focus on me, forming small dimples on his cheeks that made me blush.
About half an hour later, I noticed the speed was decreasing, and Sebastian parked in what seemed to be.
“Hope you're not actually going to kill me…”
My comment was ironic, but the tremor in my voice was real. I was restless, and once again, uncertainty was creeping in. I heard Seb asking me to trust him, and although I resisted at first, I ended up giving in; it was impossible not to listen to this guy.
“I promise everything will be fine, Di,” he repeated again, making sure I was calm. “I just need you to be blindfolded for a few minutes. Trust me, please.”
I bit my lip, indecisive, but finally nodded. My partner opened the glove compartment and took out a blindfold, which he put on me as quickly as he could, with clumsy hands. My eyes ended up covered, leaving me in darkness and with a feeling of vulnerability.
The car started moving again, and although my vision was completely disabled, my mind was constantly alert to any movement and sound. Every turn and every brake the driver made had me on edge, but after a few minutes that felt like an eternity, that feeling ceased. I could hear the leaves crunching nearby, and suddenly, I felt Sebastian's strong hands gently gripping my arms.
“Easy, Di. We've arrived.”
His words reassured me. I tightly closed my eyes behind the blindfold because maybe, that way, everything would pass faster, leaving all the work to him. I felt him help me out of the car, making sure my feet gripped the ground without stumbling.
“Are you okay? Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you like we just got married?”
“Yes, I'm fine,” I nodded, releasing a sigh of relief. “Thanks for doing all this for me.”
Sebastian's clumsy steps, along with a few jokes he was making, made me release nervous laughter as we walked along what seemed to be a rough path.
“Are you sure you know how to get to wherever we're going, Seb?” I asked.
“When are you going to trust me?' he replied. 'Have I ever lied to you?”
I laughed at his response, but before I could reply, the guy stopped. With a gentle yet determined gesture, he removed the piece of fabric that had been covering my eyes for longer than I would have liked to endure. My pupils immediately began to adjust to the light emanating from the place.
Before me was a dazzling hall, decorated with balloons and twinkling lights of all colors moving constantly in all directions. What surprised me the most was the crowd of people gathered there: drivers, engineers, mechanics not only from Red Bull, but from all the teams; even Britta was there, holding a banner tightly with the words "Happy Birthday, Di" written in completely irregular handwriting, as if it had been colored by a five-year-old.
The sound of Happy Birthday sung by everyone began to resonate in my ears as confetti cannons, held by Fernando and Lewis, shot confetti into the air. Tears filled my eyes, for the first time in my life, out of happiness. I couldn't believe anything that was happening, and even less that Seb had been the mastermind behind it all.
"Happy birthday, Di!"
Seb's voice, full of affection, made me turn towards him, and before I could say anything, I gave him an awkward hug, almost causing us to fall. His eyes sparkled as much as mine, and I could swear I saw a tear forming in them.
Laughter and applause began to fill the room as the confetti continued to fall. I was surrounded by people I admired and respected, and for once in my life, I felt accepted and loved, even if it was only reluctantly.
I took a deep breath to calm myself. My embarrassment was beginning to shine through again because I didn't like being the center of attention, but I tried to put it aside to thank everyone who had taken a little bit of their time to make my day a little happier.
"Well... Hello everyone, although I guess it's already good evening, or afternoon, or however you want to say it," I started, my voice trembling. "First of all, I want to say that, well... this totally caught me off guard, but I'm very surprised and, especially, grateful, that you've taken a bit of your time to be here now, even though we've never spoken, because I see some unfamiliar faces."
Damn it, I could already feel my cheeks burning. Nico approached me and, pushing Sebastian aside, his arms surrounded me, giving me encouragement with his gaze.
I swallowed and continued:
"The truth is, I don't know what to say," I confessed. "This time I've spent in Formula 1 has been amazing,” I lied, “and I'm very happy to have met great people like Sebastian," I removed the older German's arm from my shoulders and moved closer to the other, who seemed to relax. "If it weren't for him, I don't think I would still be here. I couldn't be more grateful to have you in my life."
I looked at Sebastian, who gave me a completely sincere smile, making my heart skip a beat. I wanted to keep talking, but my faltering words made me decide to end the speech with a simple nod. Everyone started applauding, and suddenly Sebastian took the microphone that had been in my hand the whole time.
"Come on, it's gift time for my favorite girl in the paddock!"
With smiles and continuous gestures of gratitude, I accepted all the gifts that started coming my way. As the packages, perfectly wrapped in gift paper, beautiful bags and colorful ribbons, my excitement grew as it hadn't since the last birthday I celebrated, before my mother's death.
Scarves, artisan chocolates, jewelry, among others were what began to flood the table behind me. Much more people than I had thought at first had bothered to bring me a simple detail.
Nico, when everyone had gone to get some snacks and drinks, approached with a box that, although it wasn't wrapped, was quite striking because of its size. He handed it to me with a wink; when I opened it, I was amazed. Inside was a digital camera like the ones I had always said I wanted in some conversation we had about how much I wanted to improve my photography skills that year.
"Nico, this is incredible!" I exclaimed too loudly as I jumped. "I can't believe it! Thank you so much!"
But the German wasn't done. He handed me a small box I opened carefully. A beautiful necklace full of stars with little stones made me widen my eyes. It was delicate and elegant, just my style even though I wasn't a big fan of jewelry. Before I could say a word, the Williams driver took it from my hands and gently placed it around my neck. As he tied it, I felt his breath fall on my goosebump-covered skin, which tensed even more when he left a kiss on my neck.
"I hope you like it, Diana," he murmured in a tone that was too seductive for him. “Happy birthday."
My excitement was at an all-time high, and I was so absorbed in Rosberg walking away from me, his gaze still fixed on mine, that I hadn't noticed that there was still one gift left: Sebastian's.
The blonde, who seemed to have stayed static at the scene he had just witnessed with his compatriot, approached with a small bag in his hands. It was evident, at first glance, that it wasn't as flashy as the other gifts. His expression burst with happiness, but I knew he was a little upset about the gift Rosberg had given me.
"Di..."
"Before you say anything," I interrupted him, "I want you to know that nothing, and no one, will ever top your gift: the first birthday party I've had in seven years. I hadn't had any since my mother's death because my father was reluctant to it," I explained, being more sincere than I would have liked, "and my sister and I are already used to making special days like any other."
"I'm going to make you as many birthday parties as you allow me, Di," he finally responded, without questioning anything I had told him. “I promise you that."
Without saying anything, I carefully opened the bag. Removing the tissue paper that covered it in the same way, I found a small notebook accompanied by a matching pen. It was very simple, but it was exactly what I liked the most, and, above all, I think I needed it.
"I know it's rubbish compared to what Rosberg gave you," he said, pointing with disgust at the camera and the pendant around my neck, "but I thought it would be a good idea for you to have it, so when you can't vent to me, you can do it by writing. I do it a lot when I'm overwhelmed, and it works pretty well for me," he continued, "although sometimes I feel a little secondhand embarrassment about what I write, I'm not going to lie."
Tears filled my eyes again that night, unlike that, for the first time, I had allowed myself to cry. Yes, it was true that it was nothing special compared to the others, but the fact that Sebastian had cared about me, in a way, made it even more special.
"It's absolutely perfect, Seb, really. Thank you so much."
"Wait, there's one more," he revealed, a little more excited.
My curiosity was awakened again as he handed me a jar that seemed to have been hidden all this time under the table where the rest of the gifts lay. It was adorned with a label featuring a photo of us with the date we met written underneath.
"This is one of my silly ideas, but I think you'll like it. Here," he took the jar, and opened it. "There are 365 papers, and I want you to read one each day when you wake up to start the day as happily as possible," he explained, leaving me completely amazed. "They're a mix of lyrics from songs you like, jokes we've shared over this time and well, a surprise or two as well."
If the background of the notebook had left me speechless, this had done it even more.
"Seb... I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything: pick one and read it, let's see what it says."
Seb gently brushed his fingers over my cheeks, wiping away the remaining tears on my face, and enveloping me in his arms as he had done so many times before. His blue eyes sparkled especially as he encouraged me to pick one of the messages from that jar again. Trembling, I took out one of the small carefully folded papers and slid my fingers over it, carefully opening it.
Thank you for being one of the most special people I've ever met. I hope one day you feel as special as you already are to me.
A silly smile spread across my face, and I quickly shifted my gaze from the handwriting to its author.
"Why do you come up with such brilliant ideas?"
The young man tilted his head and gave me a tender kiss on the head as he pulled me even closer to his chest.
"Because you're my greatest inspiration."
His words resonated within me like a constant echo for the rest of the night, partly preventing me from enjoying the party, the music, the dancing, the drinks, and the company. My emotions had turned into an internal storm that put great pressure on my stomach as I tried to process my feelings.
While talking to Felipe Massa, I watched Seb from a distance chatting animatedly with other guests, including Lewis. There was something in his smile and in the sparkle in his eyes when they met mine that made me feel a little special.
Part of me wanted to flee from this whirlwind of confusion and extreme confusion and enjoy my birthday night. However, there was another part of me that was intrigued by the idea of what could happen between Red Bull's golden boy and me, as unimaginable as it was. Perhaps that was why I drank too much that night. There came a point where, due to my mental block, I sat in a chair and kept asking myself, constantly, as if it were a mantra, if I was really in love with Sebastian Vettel or if maybe the German was earning a too privileged place in my life.
All the memories of the night, to my misfortune, became confused, except one.
Britta, taking me to my room, as best she could, while constantly repeating not to play with fire because, perhaps, things could end up worse than I imagined.
#f1#formula 1#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel fic#sebastian vettel x fem oc#sebastian vettel x oc#fluff#sebastian vettel fluff#nico rosberg#nico rosberg x oc#history#diana vettel#emma stone#sebastian vettel imagine
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this is gonna sound so backhanded but after 3 letdowns in a row from pokemon (followed by a game which isnt terrible but i dislike because of how much it fucked up the plot of sm), then a game that i genuinely really love and want more in the style of and largely because of how it deviates from the main series, im genuinely so shocked that i love scarlet and violet as much as i do. like when i was going through that tutorial i was just cautious and waiting for the other show to drop and be bored at best, but like, graphic glitches aside, it never came. it stayed really fun and charming
#like is it acceptable that it came out so glitchy when its a $60 console release? absolutely not#i think the game has a lot of issues and i dont blame people for not being happy with it#but i think what makes this better than swsh to me is like. swsh sorta feels like it was made out of obligation sometimes#like. tpci and gamefreak treated galar like a kid would treat an art project in a medium they werent interested in#but they were being harassed for that good grade so they powered through and hated the result#and sorta just tried to hide it when they got home from school that day#not that there isn’t anything to like about galar or it has no substance whatsoever but when i played it i couldnt shake the feeling#that gamefreak was embarassed of it. like they did not want to linger too much on this game#i think the anime switching format was a good idea in the end cause just putting ash in another gauntlet after he won the alola league would#would have been weird but its veryyyy telling to me that they changed the format so drastically#that we didnt even spend all our time in galar. their home base wasnt even in galar#and in the game they emphasize that kantos got better pokemon and everyone loves them better and theres not a whole lot to do#and there was always just this feeling of insecurity and dissatisfaction with it#and for all its faults- i cant say the same thing about scvi. this game oozes with charm and care#the writing feels like someone genuinely cared about these characters and wanted the best for them and the story#the gameplay feels more involved and confident. they got more experimental with the format#idk it feels like people LIKED working on this game to a degree and wanted the player to have fun#echoed voice
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finding certain things abt men insanely attractive that men themselves are so insecure about that it bleeds into every part of their life and makes them horrible people so it therefore makes it impossible for me to find a man i like with those attributes. HELL ON EARTH!!!!!
#men under 5’6 especially men 5’4 and under make me want to run around and scratch up my walls like a crazed jaguar in a cage#and they are all so insecure about it that they think everyone hates them and all women think theyre dogshit so they are annoying and#misogynists. KILLS MYSELF!!!!!!#also. it must be said. i think a micropenis is hot!#<- girl who likes the idea of giving blowjobs but doesnt want to actually try and put anything more than 2 inches in my mouth#anyways. thats enough information for tonight. GOODNIGHT BEAUTIFUL WORLD!!!
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Every time i meet a gemini whose second face sits right next to their actual face i go ahead and slide my second face from the back of my head and stick it next to my own and show them how being a snake is really done 😂
#i hate mind games so much that i will play them harder than you to spit in your face#and make you feel insecure#i pull it on dumb ass allistics all the time bc every autistic person i love has so much anguish with that shit#i like to pull the rug underneath them and make them feel stupid for even trying the mind games with me#dont understand how people hear about me doing this and think they are the ones who will finally be the one to put me in my place#youre pulling a sword out of a stone dude good luck everyone else comes to me with this mentality and gets humiliated#being insane is a super power that you gotta control and have a leash on
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#historically rage filled day yes its steddie characterizations again yes i struggle with regulating my engage#ment with fandoms in a way thats healthy for me and am still bad at learnimg to scroll#yes i love the fandom yes its the only thing that brings me remotely any joy all these things are true#hate the double standards of the way people write steve vs the way they write eddie.#hate course correcting 'the party is too mean to steve' to Now theyre mean to eddie.#in ways that should definitely be hurting his feelings and yet its seen as cute and silly#steve and robin can be mean to him and its just their dynamic 🤪#people can fill in empty spots in steves backstory with subtext but with eddie suddenly its all about canon#yes theres 18000 fics and the opposite is presumably out there. i just have never seen it#yes its probably the yaoification. the inability to not strip characters down to fit them into top bottom tropes.#if i read bottom eddie id probab;y find more of this. however i dont want to do that#hate steve meangirlisms cute and charming and everyones like oh steve but eddie has 1000 sins to repent for.#again -resumably a course correction of people writing steve as still having to repent for s1. which i agree is dumb and wrong#but its annoying when steve being judgy is seen as a likeable character trait but eddie does the same thing and suddenly he owes every#character an apology#hate that eddies insecurities are villainized but steves insecure suddenly its eddie and everyone elses job to fix him.#i just want better for both of them neither of them feel like themselves so often. which. again. is an mlm trope problem i think.#also yes steve is a main character and eddie is a dead side character. so more people are attatched to him and he has more stake like#in the narrative.#🕷.archive#eddie meta
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Adam x reader but they’re still alive and she’s the third wife made for him and he eats pussy for the first time 🫢🫢🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎♂️🧎♂️🧎♂️
You ready my fucking mind! I was thinking about this for a few days.
Pairing: Adam x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, first time cunnilingus, praise, hair-pulling (for Adam), cum eating, praise, clit stimulation, Adam's ego, Adam hates Lucifer
Word count: 0.7k
A/N: I am actually taken back by how much I love Adam. He's an asshole for sure but he's a charismatic asshole.
Adam moved his body against yours, quick rapid-fire cumshots making your insides tingle with warmth. It coiled at the pit of your stomach and stayed there, uncomfortable and heavy and annoying as hell. Maybe more annoying.
"Thanks for the fuck, Babe." His satisfied smile was cute if a bit too smug, like he just accomplished something big by coming inside your pussy. You whimpered as he pulled out, "Woo-hoo-hoa. There's so much, keep that shit in there, are you even trying to make kids or nah?"
Naturally procreation was high on the list of priorities for the two of you. As his third wife you wanted to give him something his first two wives couldn't, a real family. "As much as you are. But you know that's not the only purpose of sex right?"
"Of course not. My dick feels so damn good when we have sex!" Adam pointed down at the mentioned dick, half-hard and covered with both your cum.
"Yeah... and what about me?" You took his hands and pushed them towards your pussy.
"Oh. Oh yeah. I guess I can finger you. Gotta push that fucking cum back in." He chuckled and bent his middle and ring finger, his long digits closing in to your pussy before you grabbed his wrists, "What the fuck, you bitch?! I'm trying to be nice! You don't want my fingers or something?!"
How the hell was the one offended here? "I didn't say that Adam. I... want your mouth. Okay, happy? Is that what you wanted me to say?" Instead of grinning in victory like he usually did when he got you flustered he blinked in confusion. "Don't you think it's only fair after how many times I sucked you off?"
"W-Well... but... you love to suck my dick!" God he was so childish sometimes. How was he the first man and the man you fell in love with? God truly does work in mysterious ways. "I shouldn't have to eat pussy to make you feel good."
Okay. Time to pull out the last weapon you had. "Bet Lucifer knows how to eat pussy."
Adam was human. He was. But the look he gave you in that moment would make any demon shiver. "What was that?! Think I can't do better then that asshole?!" He pushed himself down and pinned your legs apart, "Fucking watch me, Babe." He was all talk right now. The moment you smiled at him he looked... awkward. He was the first man, he should be good at this, he should be good at everything.
Yet his licks were slow, experimental, insecure, way too light between your folds. "Adam. You can lick harder." He let out a grunt and quirked his eyebrow at you, he hated being told what to do. "I need you to lick harder, it would make my pussy feel so good if your tongue could- ah!" There it was. A little praise, a little persuasion and he was doing as you asked.
"Can't forget about this little thing right here." His teeth pressed against your clit, your pussy clenching and pushing more of his cum out. "I see how it is, you want more huh? Enjoying yourself? Tell me."
"Yes. You're doing good, Adam." Your hands brushed through his messy brown hair, not so much directing him as giving him a reassuring massage, "Your tongue is divine."
"You bet this cunt it is. Praise me more, Babe, scream. Let everyone hear how good I'm giving it to you." Adam's tongue descended lower to your cum-filled hole, pushing back and forth, "Damn I taste good. I see why you like swallowing it." Of course he somehow made this about himself again. It didn't matter. He was still doing as you asked, making you feel so fucking good.
"That's right, you're making me feel good with your tongue. Only you can make me feel like this. Only you can make me come from eating me out." That was all he needed in order to do just that. To know he was your one and only. Your hips bucked into his face, your back arched, toes curling while he licked and kissed and finally went back to sucking your clit. "Adam! S-Sto- oh my god- wai-!"
He wasn't stopping. Adam always did as he wanted. You came on his tongue, in his mouth, and now that he's accomplished that he wanted to do it again. You watched his tongue move across your clit, spelling his name on it, "There. Now this clit, this cunt, is all mine."
#hazbin hotel x reader#adam x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel smut#adam imagine#adam headcanons#adam fanfiction#adam smut#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x female reader#hazbin hotel#x female reader
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pon de replay - cl16 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.
Pairing: charles leclerc x reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!!
Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.
So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.
It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.
“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.
“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.
“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”
If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”
Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.
He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”
That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.
“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.
Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.
“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.
So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”
His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”
If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.
And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”
This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.
“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”
“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.
And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”
Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”
“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”
“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”
And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.
So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”
You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.
“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.
He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”
“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”
“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.
The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.
Or so you’ve thought.
Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”
“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”
You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”
That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.
“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.
“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.
“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.
So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”
“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”
“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”
“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”
“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”
“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.
That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.
“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.
“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”
“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”
And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fluff
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𓏲˳˚⊹ 🧸 become obsessed with yourself.
you are stupid. i said it. there. you are stupid.
let me get this straight. you are out here listening to these people who make you insecure. you are listening and actually giving a shit about people who put you down, make you feel unworthy, inferior, less of the absolute goddess that you are. you people please, you go above and beyond to help people & change yourself for people who would never do the same and for what. for people to like you? honey nobodys gonna like you. you dont even like yourself.
listen ml you need to get your priorities straight. sit down for a sec. like. just sit and genuinely ask yourself "what do i get out of this? how does this serve me?". go on, ask yourself. all these people who constantly think theyre better than you, that they can walk all over you, the ones that dont care a bit for you with their actions even if their words say otherwise, all these habits that only make you feel more low, more insecure, and dont align with where you wanna go in any way, shape or form. honey how in the hell does any of this serve you ???😭😭
i am sick to death of seeing the word selfish everywhere the moment somebody steps up and is brave enough to try and better themselves. the amount of times ive gotten "youre so selfish" or "youve changed" or "you werent like this before" jst because i got out of the most severe depression of my life where i came close to being unalive so many times is riDICULOUS and just shows how normalised insecurity and people pleasing is nowadays.
you see, people are always trying to follow the trend, follow the leader, follow everyone else nowadays. nobody actually honours what they want & that is a reflection of their own insecurity and traumas and emotions they are too scared to face. do you really want that for yourself? youve got such big dreams, such big potential, but what on earth do you do to fulfill them?
i dont think you realise just how limitless you actually are. you can do anything. we are all born the same. its only those with the courage to get up and try who will reach what they want and achieve greater things.
GET OBSESSED WITH YOURSELF. i am so DRAINED and TIRED of caring about what people think. i like something? im gonna do it. i dont care. fuck people pleasing. what are they gonna do when youre rich and famous and successful and thriving? YOU ARE THE ONLY VALIDATION YOU NEED. life is so much easier when you genuinely could not care less, like you just dont give a single shit. you are the only person who knows you inside out and will be there with you 24/7 365. it infuriates me how self hatred is so normalised nowadays. like what the actual fuck, why would you wanna spend your entire life hating the only person whos gonna be with you every second without fail, when you are perfectly capable of reversing that???? its ridiculous.
get up. get obsessed with yourself. the only validation you should be chasing is your own. pull yourself together girl. this is ridiculous. you are so much more than this. start acting like it. be ur own biggest fan. be ur own bestest friend. everything you need is already within you. u got this. 💕
#girlblogging#wonyoungism#it girl#pink pilates princess#self love#self concept#law of assumption#manifestation#that girl#loassumption#loa blog#dream girl
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Mom and Dad are fighting on Christmas 🎄⛄🖤
Miguel O'Hara x wife reader
TW: MINORS DNI, angst, relationship and marriage troubles, fighting, insecurity, jealousy, postpartum, talk of divorce, mild smut at the end (p in v, idk to me it's mild, I've seen worse) word count 3.3k
Credit to the gif owner keezinemugstudent! 🙏🏽
Synopsis: your marriage to Miguel is on the brink of collapse. He wakes up and tries to fix it on Christmas. Jerry Maguire inspired. 😁
Valentine's Day spinoff sequel
I tried to write something angsty. Hope everyone had/is having a good holiday season! ⛄
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Miguel's in the doghouse and he knows it. You requested a separation after you reached your limit. The kids were sick in the weeks following Thanksgiving and before Christmas and he spent the whole time working late and coming home at suspicious hours in the morning, leaving you drowning. You and the kids were piled in yours and Miguel's bed when you'd hear him come home, the front door closing and his familiar footfalls dredging down the hall, pausing only at the fridge before passing out on the couch. Oh you hated him right now. The resentment had creeped in and poisoned the marriage inside and out when he became exceedingly obsessed with work.
Protecting the stability of the multiverse was a huge undertaking, but, like all things in his life, Miguel took it to the next level. But when it came to his personal life, he was grievously lacking. The passion where you two would do it twice a day and couldn't keep your hands out of each other's pants? Ancient history. The small pecks you'd trade in the mornings were a thing of the past. Gone were the days you two would text all day and go out for dates. You didn't so much as get an "on my way home" text, instead letting the sound of his car pulling in the driveway be your confirmation of his return. You two were more roomates at this point than husband and wife.
Traditionally, on Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed, you two would take that time for each other, eating the cookies for Santa that were conveniently your favorite kind, placing the presents you two carefully shopped for and wrapped (well, mostly you wrapped), under the tree. A hysterical giggle would escape your lips at the milk mustache on Miguel's face. Then you'd two get busy on the floor in front of the fireplace, fighting back laughter as you tried to keep your moans down, every year struggling a little bit more than before because your knees weren't what they used to be before taking it to your bedroom for one more round before the chaos of Christmas morning began.
He was perfect in the beginning. The romance between you two used to be at an all time high. He was a nerd in the same friend circle when you knew him in high school, wickedly smart, the guy who won the Robotics and Math Olympiad comps and got visits from Ivy League college STEM departments, eager to scoop up his talent. Sure, he was cute, but when he went to college is when you heard he had a major glow up and became kind of cocky. You heard about how he became Spider-Man and was pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread in the eyes of the people, saving lives and fighting villains and all. You knew how the opposite gender seemed to malfunction and forget how to act around him, so you stifled away your tiny crush you had on him for years in the smallest crevice in your brain in a forgotten folder, never thinking it'd see the light of day.
When you saw him at your high school reunion, you decided to be brave and remark on how they're playing Nickelback, which he shrugged and said he actually enjoyed them, to which you sheepishly admitted that you really enjoyed them deep down too, you just couldn't resist making yourself the person to talk shit, since there's always gotta be one hater when Nickelback comes on. A canon event, if you will. This earned a tiny side smile from him, a chink in his stoic armor. After 8 beers, some flirty jests, and a little backseat rendezvous in his car, that became the last night that you two spent apart.
You were a single mom and he was a single dad. He had Gabi who was now 10 and you had Marcus who was now 6. Then you two had little Anthony together who was now 2. At first he was at all the doctors appointments, all the parent teacher conferences, he knew what the kids were doing in school. He did bed times every night, reading in a silly voice with Gabi and Marcus both balancing on his lap while you rocked baby Anthony, smiling when you heard the kids giggling from the other room. You'd walk in after baby Anthony fell asleep in his crib, your heart melting as you saw this handsome giant of a man usually known to be cold and serious to everyone else, turn into the doting husband and loving father you knew him to be. Now, years of the monotony of every day life, pressures of raising a family, and the dying egalitarian attitude you two had as partners snowballed into your own version of Gottman's four horses, leading your marriage to Miguel into apocalypse.
At first, he welcomed the separation as you two battled in the kitchen.
"You wanna separation, fine, I'll do you one better. I'll fucking leave! Felicia's better company anyway," he smirked.
There wasn't real truth behind his statement, but he knew it would hurt you when you heard it. He'd be lying if he said Felicia wasn't an attractive woman, but, she simply wasn't you. He had learned his lesson on cheating years ago when he fumbled his relationship with Gabi's mother.
Ouch. But his words could be daggers when he wanted them to be, and he knew just how to twist them into you. Of course it was Felicia. Felicia, the gorgeous Black Cat recruit from work. Her silvery hair that halted midway down her back and startling blue eyes that could drown any man in them. She didn't have kids either, a life with her promised excitement, passion, and freedom. She was witty and funny and had a way of making anyone in her vicinity listen when she spoke. And to add insult to injury, she had a killer body.
After giving birth, you became so busy, and with reassurance from Miguel that you were still beautiful to him, you let your desire to get your body to "snap back" sit on the back burner. Signs of motherhood and postpartum marked you with purple stripes running vertical on your soft belly and a new plushness to your thighs. Basically, Felicia was a complete 180 from the woman you were, which made the sting of his words that much more unbearable. He took your vulnerabilities and threw them in your face.
"Oh so you admit it, finally! I know there was something going on between you two. Makes sense. She's a gorgeous woman, right? She can fucking have you then. What, are you in love with her?"
Miguel rolled his eyes, annoyed with the superficialness of your statement and your obsession with looks, despite him reassuring you many times that he wouldn't look at other women.
"I'm not in love with her, but she doesn't nag me all the fucking time like you do. I bust my ass every day for this family so you don't have to work. I don't know who this new woman is that I'm looking at right now and what she's done with my wife, but it's not the woman I fell in love with. It would be nice if you could show me a little appreciation once in a while."
You felt your blood pressure rise.
"Appreciation.... APPRECIATION, are you fucking kidding me?! I was up all goddamn night with Gabi and Marcus. I run this fucking household all by myself. I quit my fucking career to stay home and raise your kids. Do you not understand how lonely that is?"
"I'M LONELY!!! " he yells, triggered, the feelings bottled up, fizzed over and hurtled at you like a cork on a champagne bottle. "How do you think I feel? I got women at work practically throwing themselves at me but I don't do anything about it because I'm a good husband. Meanwhile, my own wife doesn't wanna fuck me. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking house."
Your eyes almost slipped from their sockets from rolling them so hard. He seemed to want a cookie and a gold star for just being loyal, the bare minimum.
"Oh, so you wanna fuck them? Go ahead! Maybe I'd fuck you if you actually gave a shit about me and not like I'm some damn fleshlight you use to get off!" You hurl back.
He left and checked into a hotel down the street.
A few weeks had passed and it was now Christmas. You were getting used to being separated but your heart still ached in your chest. You couldn't go on doing life, when the one person you did life with was nowhere to be found. You couldn't listen to your favorite songs, eat your favorite foods, or even look at your own children without being reminded of him. Gabi was his spitting image. Same with Anthony. Even Marcus, who was his stepson, started adopting Miguel's mannerisms. The way he'd scratch his head while he did his math homework, deep in concentration.
It was Christmas evening at your mom's. You joined the other women in your family, your non-politically correct Aunt, your soft spoken sister-in-law, your mother with a don't-try-me attitude, and your younger sister with a sass to rival your mother's. You were all complaining about the men in your lives, your aunt rattling off about her 3 ex husbands but, 'hey she collects alimony from two of them so she can't complain!', your younger sister complaining about the frat guys at college who just wanna get in your pants, your sister in law who's silent the whole time (your brother treats her like a queen), and your mom about your asshole dad with an erratic mother who was incapable of cutting the apron strings and made her life a living hell. The kids are laughing and playing in the basement, eagerly trying out their new Nintendo Switch Santa left under the tree.
"I'm here for my wife."
Your feminine council meeting is interrupted by an unwelcome masculine figure. It's your estranged husband, Miguel, the coffee-colored strands of hair that hung over his forehead starting to wet from the snowflakes that melted under the warmth of the room as he stepped inside, a look of regret and longing embedded in his eyes that you hadn't seen since your earliest days of knowing him.
His strong hands dangled at his sides in fists, his chest heaving up and down. His navy blazer bearing dark water stains from the melted snow. He had a revelation at work. He and Peter B. stopped an anomaly that was terrorizing the streets of Queens in Peter's universe. The battle was close, almost a little too close to where he lived, putting MJ and Mayday in direct danger. After the job was done, the moving and emotional reunion between Peter B., MJ, and Mayday was his epiphany.
As the little family reveled in their joy and relief of evading the ultimate disaster, the only thing there for Miguel at the point of his return was the inanimate, empty, thin walls of his apartment and the thoughts of you, his severed family, that inevitably haunted him. He needed you back. He needed to apologize and fix it now.
He ran from your house to your mom's in the snow and all. It was the first Christmas Eve he spent not in between your thighs and buried deep inside you. It was the first Christmas morning he didn't wake up to Gabi's blueberry pancakes and Marcus tackling him while Anthony screamed in delight. It was going to be the first Christmas night without his family by his side, an uncomfortably obvious empty seat at the table he rightfully belonged. Next to you.
Sometimes you don't know the value of something until it's gone. Sometimes life gets in the way and you forget to appreciate the person in front of you. Why did I treat my wife like garbage when all she ever wanted was for me to ask how her day was? Why were we on our way to winding up like both sets of our parents? Doomed to repeat the cycle of divorce and hurt. Doomed to lose your faith in love and marriage like all the maternal figures in your family before you did.
Now here he was, in the living room while your mom, sister, and aunt moved towards each other, eyes squinting, three pitbulls willing to jump in on your behalf while your sister in law just stayed frozen in place. He was in enemy territory and he needed to choose his words carefully.
"Not here Miguel..."
"YES here. Right now." He says in a firm voice. "You're not getting rid of me, woman."
You scoff, almost amused by his sudden urgency and painting you like you're the one who wanted this family to be broken apart.
"The kids are downstairs..." you start to say, hoping that the mention that innocent ears could be prying into the adult conversation would help him simmer down.
"I'll see them in a minute." He says flatly.
"I miss my wife...."-he chokes on the last word, wife.
"And I want her to come home." He knew at any time his words would give way to the reservoir of tears built up behind it.
You stood there, incredulous.
"I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want my own bed. I'm ashamed it took me losing you and the kids for me to wake up. And, I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to be better. To be a better man for you and the husband that you needed. We both got caught up in real life and focused on the kids so much that we lost each other. Well, this is me trying to find my way back."
Your lips parted slightly as your breathing became heavier. This was all you ever wanted to hear him say. Stop neglecting the love between you two that laid dormant, a plant starved of sunshine. For him to finally shake off the stubborn shackles that was his ego and express himself to you. Let him allow you back into his heart, no longer as a guest, but a permanent resident.
"You're... you're everything to me. And I'm not leaving here tonight until you let me know if you'd allow me the opportunity to get hurt by you again," a tear rolled down his cheek, his scarlet eyes yearning, his hands pining for the feel of you. As though the madness of not having you alone could stop his heart from beating, stop his world from turning, rearrange life as he knew it into a hollow existence not worth seeing.
Your own reservoir could not be held back any longer and started to roll down your cheeks. He managed to peel back the walls you built with his apology, revealing the woman underneath who just missed her husband.
He steps closer to you now, eager to bridge the rest of the space between your bodies.
"You still love me?" he asked softly.
Your chest heaves, shoulders raising then falling sharply, feeling yourself crack with exasperation under his burning gaze as you softly answer,
"Never stopped."
He grabs you and pulls you into him, his embrace is tight as though you'd disappear if he dared to break it. He tangles a hand in your hair and presses his cheek into your head, his eyes closed, drinking in the scent he'd been away from for weeks. You bury your face in his chest, trying to make yourself small and allowing his frame to swallow you whole, not minding his wet shirt and blazer that still have a slight chill on them from the storm outside, allowing your body heat to seep into his. You both began to rock back and forth a little bit, still locked inside your hug. It was as though the passing of time had evaporated and it was only you two in the room, nevermind your family witnessed the whole thing.
After several long moments, you pull apart and he offers you one of his dazzling smiles, one you hadn't seen in months. The kids have made their way upstairs and shriek with excitement when they see their dad and Miguel bends down to scoop them up. You smile and stand beside your mom who scoops you into a side hug. With her blessing, Miguel stays and celebrates the rest of Christmas with you and your family.
Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are now all tucked in. The sugar from the chocolate they consumed all day had worn off, making them crash hard in their beds. You and Miguel are cuddled up on the couch watching the fireplace, taking some needed time as a couple. You stroke his strong arms that are wrapped around you with your fingertips, watching the way the flames leap and spark in the air when they crackle against the charred wood. You look up at him and feel a wave of desire wash over you that you had pent up for months as you study his chiseled features and the way the fire's glow highlights his skin.
"Should we end this Christmas with a bang?" You ask, pun fully intended.
Miguel looks at you tiredly, trying to act like that wasn't a witty remark but he lets out a chuckle. "I'd love to," he whispers.
He takes both your cheeks in his large hands and brings his lips to you immediately. They're soft and full. You feel yourself melting into him every time he sandwiches yours in between them. He reclines you backwards, slowly, until he's on top of you. He lets the weight of his body and hips come down on you little by little, making you arch your back, so your body can better receive him.
Once he lets you taste his tongue, you open your mouth wider, permitting him to deepen the kiss, tossing kindle onto the growing flame between you two, and it's not the one in your fireplace. You take your turn to dial up the heat, seizing his bottom lip in a gentle nip from your teeth, earning a low groan from Miguel and a tightened grip on your hair.
As you continue your steamy makeout session, he begins to hump gently against your clothed body, a nonverbal plea for the wet friction only the inside of you can provide.
After your frantic hands strip each other of your clothes, you've transitioned so you're straddling him in the lotus position, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as your bare body meets his, a high pitched gasp escaping you as you sink down onto him, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting closed as he breathes in your ear,
"God, I missed you, baby."
You whine into his neck as you coil your fists in his hair. His hands fly to the soft flesh of your sides, using them to move you up and down, his haggard breaths making you weaker and weaker by the minute. You hum,
"I missed you even more."
The next move of his hips is harder than you anticipated, causing your brain to go fuzzy with pleasure.
"How much?" he exhales in a sultry tone.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all week,"your tone turning into pleading as you feel yourself approaching your limit.
Miguel can't help but feel himself lose his mind a little bit at your words and at your reaction, sensing you won't be able to hold on much longer.
He lays you down, while still keeping himself inside. He slows down to a more sensual pace, breathing in the sight of your wild hair clinging to the couch cushions, evidence of him hitting you in all the right spots every time the inner corners of your eyebrows squinch upwards and your lips fall open.
His loving eyes burn with worship of your body and how well you're doing as he runs a thumb along your chin then pulls down your bottom lip, leans in and mumbles quietly into your mouth,
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. O'Hara."
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🖤
#miguel o'hara#spotify#miguel x reader#miguel atsv#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#across the spiderverse#fanfic#miguel o'hara angst#Spotify#miguel o'hara smut
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Seeing Someone
Lando Norris x friend!reader (female reader)
summary: Lando is finally ready to tell you how he feels when he overhears you say that you've started seeing someone - but overheard conversations aren't always what they seem.
wc: 5.5k
author's note: a few disclaimers: 1. let's all pretend that everyone has to spend a few weeks at MTC before the start of the season and they commute to/from London. 2. therapy and mental health help are so important - i purposefully left some things vague because people go to therapy for a variety of reasons and it should be normalized! i also didn't want things to get too heavy or potentially upset anyone by choosing to elaborate on something they relate to/hits a little too close to home. 3. this was inspired by a post i saw on my dash that said "when you said you were seeing someone i was hoping you meant a therapist". this originally started out more light-hearted, but the angst came out and i couldn't stop. feeling a little insecure about this one - thoughts and feelings in the comments/reblogs/my inbox would be so cherished and appreciated :) once again, special shoutout to @sof1shticated for being my beta reader. couldn't do this without you, Mel!
warnings: mentions of reader going to therapy, mentions of reader drinking, a few curse words (i think), and angst! but there is a happy ending (even if it's a little open-ended)
Lando had searched the entirety of McLaren HQ at this point and started to worry – you were quite literally nowhere to be found. Usually, this wouldn’t phase him, since you were notorious for getting distracted or caught up in conversation with everyone you came across. You especially found ways to delay leaving MTC when you had to be there physically – the commute from HQ back to London each day was objectively the worst part of everyone coming together in the weeks leading up to each new season.
Today, however, the two of you had plans to get dinner at your favorite restaurant in London and you would never miss a chance to devour your favorite scallop risotto, cheese garlic bread, several glasses of wine, and a heaping mound of tiramisu for dessert.
He stopped speed-walking abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair out of the corner of his eye.
“OSCAR,” Lando shouted, his speed-walk turning into a run. “Oscar, have you seen Y/N? She told me to meet at her office at 5:00pm but it’s 5:30pm and she is literally missing. She better have a good excuse, I hate being late.”
“Missing? Are you sure she’s not just caught up in a meeting? I saw her heading to Zak’s office around 4:45pm, did you check there?”
“Zak’s office, of course! The one place I didn’t check. Thanks, Osc, you’re the man.”
Oscar rolled his eyes – “Anytime, Lan. What are you running late for? Hot date?”
Lando didn’t miss the wiggle of Oscar’s eyebrows and slight smirk. It wasn’t a secret to the Australian that Lando had a crush on Y/N – although Lando had never confirmed or denied it, it was pretty obvious to anyone who spent more than 30 seconds around them.
“Ah, something like that,” Lando said nonchalantly, a bashful blush making its way to his cheeks.
“Good luck, mate!” Oscar threw a wave over his shoulder as he heard the retreating sound of Lando’s trainers smacking against the floor.
In truth, although you and Lando were just friends and Lando was terrified he may ruin that, he had plans to tell you about his feelings for you that night at dinner. It had been almost a year since you started working for McLaren, and almost a year of Lando pining after you in secret. He spent most days trying to convince himself he was content just being your friend, but he was determined to make 2024 his year. His first win, hopefully of many, maybe even WDC contender material, and finally plucking up the courage to be honest with you.
As Lando hurriedly approached Zak’s office, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and heard your voice trailing through the opening.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Zak. And a massive thank you for approving the time off on such late notice.”
“Anytime, Y/N, you know you’re like family to me and everyone here. You sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, I’m seeing someone. It’s still new so I’m not set on him yet but I have a really good feeling about it, I’m really starting to wish I had called him sooner. He actually suggested the days off, I’m seeing him on Tuesday and hopefully things continue to go well.”
Lando’s heart dropped to his stomach – all week he had been thinking about tonight. How to tell you, how you might react, how nervous he was, and each day he grew even more anxious. He was panicking – what was he supposed to do? How could he sit across from you all night knowing that he’d missed his chance?
“That’s so good to hear,” Zak said earnestly. “Keep me updated and enjoy your days off.”
Lando could hear chairs scraping and scrambled to leave the scene before you walked out of Zak’s office to find him eavesdropping. He got about 50 feet down the hallway before he heard your voice from behind.
“Lan,” you shouted. “I’m so sorry, I’m totally late but I had to meet with Zak about something and his last meeting went way over.”
You jogged a little to catch up to him – a bright smile on your face that made his heart rate skyrocket and his palms grow sweaty. He couldn’t see you feeling like this. Not tonight, not when he could barely keep himself from telling you that he would be a much better boyfriend than whoever you were dating.
“We still on for dinner? I grabbed everything I needed from my office before I met with Zak so if we leave right this second and ignore the speed limit, they may seat us,” you bumped his shoulder as you joked.
Unable to help himself, only thinking about how hurt he was even though you’d done nothing wrong, Lando blurted out an excuse. “Actually, I was trying to find you to tell you I can’t make it.”
He tried not to react when he saw your face fall a little, but he told himself it was because you were disappointed about the last-minute change in plans and not that he wasn’t going.
“You should still go though,” he offered quickly. “I’m sure you have someone you could take with you!”
Your eyes spotted Oscar across the hallway and you smiled slightly – it had been a while since you had spent time with him and you knew he was having a rough week.
“Yeah, I have someone in mind,” you mused, focusing your eyes back on Lando. “Is everything ok? Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m fine, I just forgot I have plans.”
“Well, we had plans. You scheduled over me?”
“It’s a last-minute thing. Date thing. Last-minute date thing.”
“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh, that’s great!” You plastered a fake smile on your face – hoping that he was just as oblivious now as he apparently is to your feelings. “I hope you have a great time, she’s a lucky girl! I’ll see you on Wednesday, I’m taking a couple days off!”
Before he had a chance to say anything else, you sped off in search of Oscar to bribe him to accompany you to dinner. While you set off across the room, Lando smacked himself in the forehead and groaned.
“Why did you tell her it was a date, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. Now, it was his turn to speed walk through McLaren HQ, but if he had turned around just for a moment, he would have caught you stopped in your tracks staring at him longingly as he walked away.
You shook your head and sighed, continuing your quest to find the younger McLaren driver and rope him into an evening filled with good food and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably a few tears.
A few moments later, you spotted floppy brown hair bouncing as Oscar walked toward the employee parking lot.
“Oscar!” You yelled after him, increasing your pace to catch up to him.
“Hey,” he said, confusion evident on his face, “I thought you were going out with Lando?”
“He’s got a date,” you blurted. “He has a date and he canceled on me and it’s fine. I am fine. But I want my scallop risotto and tiramisu so you’re coming with me.”
“Sure, Y/N, lead the way.”
Oscar was, to put it extremely lightly, confused. Lando was completely enamored by you – anyone with eyes could see it. Oscar was wholly convinced that Lando was going to officially ask you out at dinner tonight, especially after the brief conversation they had while you were late to meet up with him.
Yet, here he was, sat across from you in a dimly lit room as you sipped on your third glass of wine and, with all the subtlety of a neon sign, wiped a tear from your lower lash line.
“It’s not that I’m not happy for him, I’m so happy for him. But canceling last minute is a dick move, right? It’s a dick move. I know I’m just his friend, sometimes I feel like just a colleague, but I’m not being dramatic, right?”
Oscar stared at you blankly – his eyes wide and a look of pure fear on his face. He considered himself good at most things, great at quite a few, but comforting a crying woman was bottom of the list of Oscar Piastri’s skills.
“It’s totally a dick move,” he nodded his head eagerly in agreement. “I just don’t get it – when I saw him earlier he was frantic trying to find you. I think he’d scoured the entirety of MTC, he was out of breath when I found him.”
“Well, at least he had the decency to find me and tell me in person that he planned on ditching me.”
“Yeah, but that’s just it, it didn’t seem like he was trying to find you to tell you that. He complained about being late and when I asked him if he had a hot date, he blushed.”
“He is literally on a hot date.”
“Ok, well, when I asked him I meant did he have a hot date specifically with you.”
You scoffed and set your glass down – as much as you loved Oscar and you knew he’d never judge you, if you had any more wine you’d end up sobbing and not just wiping stray tears away.
“As if! Lando has never once made a move on me even though I flirt, or at least try to flirt, with him any chance I get.”
“You flirt with Lando?”
“I made him a personalized Spotify playlist, had Stroopwafels overnighted to him from The Netherlands after Vegas, bought him a sweater for his birthday with a card that said ‘to match your eyes’, and I compliment him every time I see him.”
“That’s your idea of flirting?”
“Well, yes.”
“Y/N, that’s just being nice to people. You’re nice to everyone. Lando is not going to understand that you’re a little extra nice to him and that means you’re trying to woo him.”
You huffed and slumped in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ok, well, how would you flirt with Lando?”
“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”
“Yes because apparently you know all about flirting! And by the way, Logan thought I was coming onto him when I was just being nice so some people would consider my actions flirtatious.”
“That doesn’t count, Logan thinks Uber drivers are flirting with him when they say ‘have a nice day’.”
You and Oscar shared a laugh at the mention of your mutual friend – somehow an even more hopeless case than you in the world of romance.
Your laughs turned to giggles and eventually died down completely. A sigh climbed its way out of your throat, the sudden change in your mood evident to Oscar.
“It doesn’t matter anyway – he’s seeing someone so no more trying, and according to you failing, to flirt.”
“You don’t know how serious it is, maybe this was a first date and it’ll go horribly. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about, he was just saying the other day that Lily and I make him feel painfully single. We can ask him about it on Monday!”
You frowned a bit and tried to recover, but Oscar noticed the way your face fell slightly. “I’m actually taking a few days off, I need some personal time. I won’t be back at MTC until Wednesday.”
“Is everything ok? You don’t have to tell me but if you need anything, you know I’m there for you, right?”
You smiled at Oscar – it was a rare thing to find such great friends in the people you worked with, but you got so incredibly lucky with the McLaren team, especially Lando and Oscar. “I know that, Osc. You’re a gem.”
With a nod of understanding, Oscar changed the subject to something more pleasant, and you enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friend.
When Wednesday morning rolled around, you felt like your stomach might explode from nerves. You had resisted texting Lando over the past few days to ask about his date, you didn’t want to seem too eager and hoped it would come up naturally in conversation during the day. You hadn’t talked to Oscar much, though he’d texted you a few times to check in, but you wondered if he had talked to Lando at all and if he had details on how well Lando’s date went.
You arrived at MTC fairly early, hoping to get a head start on your day. Winter break was nearly over, and you were swamped with finalizing everything for the start of the 2024 season. It wasn’t until lunch that you saw Lando at all and he just so happened to be waiting in your office, sitting comfortably in your chair, while you were walking back from your latest meeting.
“Lando! What are you doing here?”
“I, uh,” he scrambled. “I was just…I don’t know really. I guess I wanted to see you, we haven’t talked in a few days since you’ve been out.”
“Well, we’ve both been busy. You could’ve texted me. How was your date?”
“It was good. Great. How about yours?”
You smiled remembering your evening with Oscar, assuming he had told Lando at some point that he had accompanied you. “Honestly so fun, we had the best time. I hope we get to do it again soon.”
Lando cringed – jealousy rearing its ugly head as he looked down at his feet before answering. “Same, I’ll probably go out with her again this weekend.”
“Good for you,” you gritted. “I’m glad you had fun. I actually have a million things to do so if there’s nothing important…”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to see you. I guess we’ll catch up soon? Hope you enjoyed your days off.”
Mustering up a fake smile, you told him definitely, awkwardly standing as he rose from your desk and left your office. As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, you groaned. The tension between you and Lando was unbearable, though you didn’t understand why it seemed to mostly be coming from him. Before you had a chance to think any further, you could hear your phone buzzing from inside your bag and begrudgingly pulled it out to see a text from Oscar.
did you go on a date over the weekend?
no? why are you asking me that?
well then why did lando just sit across from me and say ‘did Y/N tell you anything about her date?’
he was just in my office, I asked him how his date went and he asked about ‘mine’. i assumed he was talking about Friday and that you told him i brought you?
i never told him, i guess he thought you brought a real date?
You paused before responding to Oscar, confusion evident on your face and in your lack of response. Before you could type out a reply, two more texts came in.
ok something is up because i just told him that i went with you on friday and he said “i know, i saw you in her insta story in the reflection of a wine glass, i’m talking about yesterday”
insane that he looked close enough to see me in your wine glass but not the point
i literally haven’t been on a date in two years
let me figure this out
You slid your phone back into your bag and pulled out your laptop – your Lando problems would have to wait until you were at least somewhat caught up after missing two days so close to the start of the season.
Meanwhile, at a conference room table in MTC, Oscar was confused. Which, as of late, was a common occurrence when it came to you and Lando.
“Mate,” Oscar addressed Lando, “if you’re not talking about Friday, what date did you ask Y/N about? She hasn’t been on a date in forever.”
“Well then he must have canceled on her because she was supposed to have plans yesterday, it’s why she took days off.”
“I don’t know the exact reason why she took days off but she told me on Friday that she was and didn’t seem too happy about it. Said it was personal reasons.”
“Going on a date is personal.”
“Not ‘take two days off of work’ personal! Where are you even getting this information?”
Lando looked away sheepishly, afraid to admit to Oscar that he had eavesdropped on a private conversation between you and Zak. With Oscar looking at him expectantly, and a bit like a pissed-off Mum, he blurted it out.
“I heard her talking to Zak! Last week on Friday, when I was looking for her, she was in his office and the door was cracked. She had asked him for a couple days off and talked about how she recently started seeing someone and was seeing him again on Tuesday aka yesterday.”
Now Oscar was really confused. You had cried over Lando publicly on Friday, and he knew you fairly well, which meant there was no way you would be crying over Lando and going out with someone else four days later.
“I think you need to just talk to her because I promise you, she is not seeing someone. Also, what do you care? You ditched her for a date on Friday.”
Oscar had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Lando’s face fall.
“Lando, tell me you didn’t.”
“I might have.”
“Jesus, Lando, you heard 30 seconds of a conversation and decided to lie to her? Because what, your ego took a blow? Some caveman instinct?”
“No, I don’t know, honestly. It just slipped out! I had planned to ask her out for real and when I heard her say ‘I’m seeing someone’, I just didn’t know how to be around her. I couldn’t be around her that night.”
“You need to go talk to her. Apologize. Preferably, immediately.”
Lando jumped up from his seat and sighed. “You’re right. She might kill me, and she has every right to, but I have to talk to her and apologize to her. Wish me luck!”
Before Oscar could do what Lando had asked, Lando raced off towards your office, barely stopping himself from tripping over his own two feet.
Across MTC, you had just settled your mind and gotten into a groove of catching up on emails and making progress on deadlines. As soon as you thought to yourself that the day was going better than expected, your office door flung open and Lando Norris was standing stiff in your doorway.
“Lan, I told you that I’m busy. What is going on?” Annoyance was evident in your voice and Lando cringed knowing that this conversation was probably not going to be very pleasant.
“Why did you take time off?”
Your body straightened in shock, of all the things he could have asked you after bombarding you in your office, you wouldn’t have guessed he would pry into your personal life.
“That’s none of your business, Lando. If you were worried about me, you could have reached out, but I haven’t heard from you since you ditched me on Friday.”
Lando could see the hurt on your face, he could see it evident in your body language. He thought back to how you had looked upset immediately when he told you on Friday that he couldn’t go with you – when he told himself it had nothing to do with you wanting to spend time with him.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for that, it wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I didn’t want to not go. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Ok, I’m totally lost. You didn’t know what to do about what, Lando?”
He steeled himself for your reaction – something he had learned by being your friend for the past year was that you held trust and truth in high regard. You didn’t like being lied to, and you didn’t like people trying to dig into your life or get information you weren’t willing to share.
“I heard you in Zak’s office. I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, I swear, I was looking for you because you were late meeting me. Oscar told me you might be with Zak so I went there and the door was open. And I heard you. So I lied and told you that I couldn’t go to dinner, I don’t know why I said I had a date. All I could focus on was how hurt I was, I just couldn’t be around you and then I felt so stupid and terrible for lying so that’s why I didn’t text you at all.”
You were completely and utterly perplexed – you couldn’t even react with anger at the thought of Lando listening to a private conversation and outright lying to you. What could he have overheard that he was so upset about?
“Lando, I’m still confused. What did you hear? How did I hurt you?”
“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. You have no idea how I feel about you – I was going to tell you that night.” Lando was word-vomiting at this point, he never wanted you to find out this way but he couldn’t stop rambling. “I have had feelings for you for so long, and I finally decided that I was going to tell you even if I was convinced you don’t feel the same. And now I know you don’t because you’re seeing someone and – ”
You interrupted him sternly, allowing the anger you were feeling to come forth and shoving down your confusion. “I’m not dating anyone? Is that why you asked Oscar about my ‘date’? Where did you get that idea?”
“You told Zak that you’re seeing someone and that it’s new but things are going good. I heard you say you were seeing him again on Tuesday.”
Your eyes doubled in size – if you weren’t so pissed off, you might have found humor in this, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach churned at the thought of divulging your personal struggles.
“Lando, I’m seeing a therapist,” you hissed.
He froze for a moment, then scrambled to shut your door which was still ajar from him barging in.
“A therapist? Are you okay? What’s going on, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been struggling?”
“No, no, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to make me less angry by being kind and caring.”
“I’m not doing it to make you less angry, Y/N, I genuinely – ”
“I don’t care, Lando! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, misunderstood the context of that conversation, and then you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, because you got your feelings hurt and did things you shouldn’t have done, I have to share something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with you just yet.”
Lando was speechless – you could see the remorse on his face, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but in that moment you wanted him to feel even worse than you were.
“And you want to know the worst part,” you cried. “I feel the same way about you. I cried to Oscar at dinner because I thought you were with someone else, that you would have rather been at dinner with a different girl.”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Can we please just go somewhere and talk? Really talk this out? I know I messed up, but this doesn’t have to change things or how we feel about each other.”
You wanted to, god, did you want to – you knew Lando hadn’t done any of this on purpose. You knew he didn’t have malicious intent and you knew how hurt he probably felt at the idea of you being with someone – it was exactly the way you felt when you thought the same about him.
“I think you should go, Lan”. Despite every part of you wanting to sit and talk, you knew that you needed some time to settle down.
“Ok,” he whispered. “When you’re ready,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “if you’re ever ready, you know where to find me.”
His posture made you feel sick as he left your office – Lando was always confident, shoulders back and head held high, but as you watched him through the glass walls surrounding you, he was hunched over. Dejected. You’d only ever seen him that way a few times – after he was torn apart by the media or after making a mistake during a race.
It hurt you to see him that way. But, he had also hurt you, and you needed time.
It had been two weeks since “the incident” with Lando – that’s what Oscar started calling it and it stuck. Fight felt too strong, disagreement felt too weak, so it became something nameless. Undefined. Indeterminate. Exactly like what existed now between you and Lando.
Oscar and Lando were set to leave for Sakhir in a week and you wouldn’t see them again until you joined the team for the Australian GP. If you didn’t work things out with Lando before they left for testing, it would be well over a month without a resolution.
The thought made your eyes burn with tears – you were still upset but more than that you missed Lando. You didn’t even have to wonder if he felt the same because you’d seen him around MTC. He looked just as awful as you, if not worse, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation.
You began packing up your things to leave the office, grateful beyond belief that it was a Friday and you’d have two days without seeing Lando’s familiar curls everywhere you turned. At least at home, you would only see them behind closed eyes and wouldn’t have to blink back tears.
A knock at your door startled you, but you assumed it was your team lead looking for your latest analytics report. At least there was one thing you could be happy about – the car data was phenomenal and all signs were pointing to an amazing season for McLaren.
You told whoever was knocking to come in, not looking up from your bag as you rifled through your files. “So sorry, Tom, I meant to bring this to you earlier but I – ”
A throat clearing cut you off, and you looked up to see Lando standing in your doorway with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of those cheesy “I’m sorry” balloons in his left hand. You almost giggled, but then you looked at his face and your heart dropped. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes - he looked awful.
“I know you said you’d reach out when you’re ready to talk, and I wanted to respect that and give you all the space you need. But, we’re both miserable. At least I think you’re miserable, I know I am. I miss you terribly. I miss my friend. And if that’s all you’ll ever be to me, I can respect that and I will cherish it because the past week has been the worst week of my life.”
“Lando, I – ”
“Please, please let me get all of this out. Please let me apologize.”
You smiled slightly, nodding your head for him to continue.
“I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It wasn’t on purpose but I should have left as soon as I heard you talking because I know how important trust is to you. I violated yours and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It doesn’t matter if I was hurt, I could’ve just said I wasn’t feeling well or asked you about what I overheard immediately. After apologizing for overhearing, of course. I’m sorry that it took Oscar talking sense into me for me to come to you in the first place. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I behaved like a child instead of talking to you about my feelings. My actions made you feel forced to tell me something personal that you weren’t ready to share. I’m so sorry, and I hope you know that I’m here for you always.”
He let out a deep breath and you watched his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in two weeks. You knew he was sorry – you’d known how sorry he was immediately when he started explaining and apologizing the first time around, but you just weren’t ready to hear it yet.
“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered as you walked towards him and took his free hand in your own. “I know you’re sorry and I know that this was all a misunderstanding that just got out of hand.”
“I am also sorry for springing my feelings on you. I wanted to tell you properly, ask you out properly, but I couldn’t explain myself without telling you. I ruined everything, it was woefully unromantic.”
“Yeah, that was a bit shit, I didn’t get my big grand gesture or anything.”
Lando’s eyes grew wide, a hopeful gleam in them. “I mean, would you – is that something you would still want? I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t want to assume that you still feel the same.”
“I do,” you said softly. “But, I think we should work on really moving past this before we officially jump into anything more.”
“I completely agree. However, I do have a reservation for two in about forty minutes to make up for ditching you, if you’d like to join me? Otherwise, I’ll have to bring Oscar. He won’t stop talking about the cheese garlic bread.”
“No, Lando, you don’t understand. He ordered three baskets. I went home and typed an apology email to Zak for ruining his diet.”
You both erupted in giggles, leaning into each other for support and out of habit. It felt so good to laugh, the weight and stress of the past two weeks rolling off in waves as Lando’s shoulder bumped yours and you heard the unmistakable laughter that you’d come to love so much.
“Maybe we should bring him anyway,” you pondered. “He’s been an exceptionally good friend to us both the past couple of weeks.”
“He can come next time, I’d like you to myself for the evening. If that’s ok?”
“More than ok, Lan. I’ve really missed you.”
He leaned in quickly, kissing your cheek gently and then nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume he’d gifted you for your last birthday. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he objected, his eyes glimmering slightly. Wet eyelashes fluttered against your neck as he stayed tucked into your side for a few more moments.
“We’re going to be late,” you whispered, with a sincere lack of urgency.
“Can we go back to my hotel room instead? Watch a movie and order in? Jus’ wanna hold you.”
Your heart constricted – as much as you wanted to tease him and say he owed you a night out and your favorite meal, you wanted nothing more than to spend the night in Lando’s arms.
“Of course, Lan. I think I need that too.”
On the way to Lando’s car, you passed Oscar who gave you both a knowing smile and a short wave. If you asked him if he had been waiting for you guys to leave, he would deny it. He would deny being so invested in your reconciliation that he waited close to an hour after he could leave for the day to make sure you were both ok. He would also deny that he tracked both of you and when it dawned on him that you were skipping your dinner, he sped to that little Italian place and stole your reservation for an order (or two) of cheese garlic bread.
He couldn’t resist sending a poorly taken picture to the group chat with the three of you and you burst out laughing when you opened it.
“Lan, Oscar somehow stole our dinner res,” you giggled, turning your phone to show Lando an unmistakable basket of bread and a follow-up text with several heart emojis.
Lando held his phone up to snap a quick selfie of you two cuddled up in bed, him leaning in for the second time that evening to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. Almost immediately after it delivered, your phones lit up with another text from Oscar.
HOT DATE FR THIS TIME?
You and Lando looked at each other and smiled, the mutual understanding of where you stood with your feelings evident.
not quite yet, but soon :)
#lando norris x reader#lando norris angst#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris x you#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader
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cupid
pairing: eddie munson x female!reader
summary: you swear cupid hates you but maybe he’ll finally take mercy when you meet eddie.
warnings: reader insecurity, slight period misogyny, mostly fluff, eddie being a cutie patootie, inspired by cupid by fifty fifty <3
word count: 2.4k+
masterlist
You were starting to think that Cupid had a personal vendetta against you.
Three failed dates in a row, all with different guys.
You were optimistic about the first date. After hitting it off with a friend of a friend at a party, you agreed to go on a date with them—a simple movie and dinner. Only you didn’t make it to dinner since your date started hysterically sobbing after watching the newest rom-com. Apparently, he was missing his ex, and seeing two people in love on screen was the breaking point.
The second date came and went. Another movie and dinner but this time you actually made it to dinner. Which you quickly regretted when he kept trying to play footsie with you under the table. At the end of the date, he leaned in for a kiss. You panicked and dodged which had your date kissing the brick wall behind you instead. You didn’t hear back from him again.
On your third date, you lowered your expectations exponentially. You wanted to play it safe and have a coffee date. It started out normal enough. In fact, you were even having fun. He made you laugh until the conversation drifted to the topic of the future. You told him you wanted to get out of this small town and get a job.
For some reason, that made him extremely upset. He started talking about how women shouldn’t ever work and that the only work you should do is cleaning the house, taking care of the kids, and all that 1950s bullshit. You stared at him, mouth agape, not knowing how to respond.
When he was done with his tirade, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. You waited a few seconds before jumping out of your chair and sprinting out of the coffee shop at a speed that should’ve qualified you for the Olympics. You didn’t stop walking until you reached the park down the street and sat down on the empty bench to catch your breath. You looked at your surroundings and grimaced.
Couples.
Everywhere.
A couple having a picnic on the grass. A couple kissing sweetly on the bench across from you. An elderly couple taking a midday stroll. There was even a pair of kids hugging while their parents cooed at them. It’s like the universe was playing some cruel prank on you.
Did Cupid enjoy watching your love life crash and burn? Did he take some sick enjoyment out of hitting you with one of his arrows and shoving you in the direction of another failed love interest?
What was so great about love anyways? It can’t possibly be as good as all the movies and songs made it out to be. Surely, everyone had to be lying or delusional.
And yet…
You wondered what love was like.
The kind of love that kept you smiling all day, that made you see the beauty in the world. The type that swept you off your feet and made you feel like floating through the clouds. The type that completed you.
This is why you kept going on these dates, giving that little cherub second chances in case he finally takes mercy on you and gives you the right man.
Because someone had to be out there for you. Right?
You groaned and slid down the bench enough for you to lean your head on the back of the bench. Watching the clouds float across the sky, you wished the overwhelming loneliness in your chest could float away just as easily. Tears pricked your eyes and you tried desperately not to let them fall. You would not cry here, not in public. You can save the crying for your room like you usually did.
Despite your best efforts, tears still trickled down your cheeks. You huffed in frustration. You are pathetic.
All of a sudden a sharp pain shot from your head. Your eyes shot open and you sat up. With crossed eyes, you could make out a blurry form of a stick. You gripped the stick and realized that it was literally stuck to your head by suction. You dug your nails into the sides of the rubber to release it. Rubbing your forehead, you finally got a closer look at the toy arrow that hit you.
What. the. hell.
You glanced around the park, looking for who could’ve hit you. Turning around until you faced the open field behind you where you saw two people: a short, curly-haired kid and a tall, long-haired man.
The latter was holding a toy bow looking incredibly guilty.
You blinked at each other for a couple of seconds, in shock about what happened. The boy nudged him and he came stumbling forward. You stood up as well and wiped your tears away. God, you hoped you didn’t have a giant red circle on your face.
The ten-foot distance between the two of you felt bigger than it was. The awkwardness alone almost made you turn around but you pushed through. Once you were close enough, you stopped and took him in.
Everything about him screamed ‘danger’. He wore a black shirt that said ‘Coroded Coffin’ and dark jeans with a chain hanging from his belt. You wondered how he wasn’t sweating under the sun.
Black polish chipped off his nails and a collection of chunky rings adorned his fingers. Trailing your eyes up, you saw the patches of dark ink etched into his skin. He was all hard features and sharp edges that had you slightly antsy but when you finally met his eyes, that feeling flew out the window.
He had these big baby browns that softened his entire look. His long hair was wild and framed his face. The combination made him look slightly like a puppy. He had full, pink lips that opened and closed slightly as if he was trying to find the right words to say.
Stop ogling him. He shot a projectile at you.
You cleared your throat, deciding to break the silence. “I assume this is yours?” You held the arrow out to him.
He seemed to snap out of his trance and took the arrow from your hand gently. “Yeah! I’m really, really sorry. I swear I wasn’t aiming for -” He stopped mid-sentence and you saw his eyes flicker with worry. “Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt that much.” You waved a hand over your forehead, dismissively.
“No, not that but I am glad to hear I didn’t hurt you.” He smiled lightly but as fast as it came, a frown settled in its place. “You were, uh… were you crying?”
Taken aback, you furrowed your brows at him. How he could’ve known? “Uh…”
“Sorry! That’s weird. It’s really not my place. It’s just… your eyes are red but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He rambled and held his hands up to show he meant no harm. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually paid attention to you like this.
“I’m okay.” He nodded but, ultimately, didn’t look convinced. You sighed. “I just had a bad date.”
“He didn’t hurt you did he? We can track him down. I’ve got a weapon.” He held up the plastic bow.
You giggled and that made him relax just a tad. His shoulders dropped and the wrinkle between his brows smoothed over. “He didn’t, don’t worry. No need to wield a deadly weapon on him.”
“Yet.” He narrowed his eyes at you but had a playful smirk.
“Yet.” You copied his expression. The tension had disappeared and lighthearted laughter took its place.
“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He introduced himself.
Eddie. It suited him, you thought.
You gave him your name. A charming smile tugged on his lips and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Pretty.” Eddie said under his breath.
Your cheeks flushed even more.
“Eddie, did you get the arrow?” A voice called from behind Eddie. You peered over his shoulder and saw the younger boy. Only now did you notice that he was decked out in a full medieval costume, his curly hair peeking over the edge of his pointy hat.
“Yeah, dude.” Eddie held up the arrow.
“Then come on! You gotta help me with my shield.” The boy whined which made you chuckle slightly. Eddie looked back at you and smiled.
“In a sec, man!” He yelled back but kept his eyes on you. A childish groan came from behind Eddie which had him rolling his eyes playfully. “Sorry about that.”
“Your brother?” You asked.
“Dustin?” Eddie asked, surprise clear in his voice. “Yeah, he is.” A fond smile spread across his face. You could see the resemblance in their unruly curls.
“So, what’s with the outfit?” Peering over Eddie’s shoulder, you could see Dustin practicing with the shield, swinging it at invisible monsters.
“He’s testing out his costume for the Faire.” He said, casually.
“The Faire?”
“The Renaissance Faire?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You shook your head, not understanding. “It’s like an amusement park for history buffs. People dress up, eat, drink, roleplay. It’s great.” He explained.
“Have you been before?” You wanted to hear more, both equally fascinated by the concept and Eddie’s voice.
“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s the little guy’s first time and he wants to go all out. He said he wanted to try his costume out in the correct environment. He’s a bit of a nerd like that and that’s saying something coming from me. King of the nerds, right here.” Eddie held his arms out as if presenting himself and bowed low. You smiled at him.
You haven’t stopped smiling since he made you laugh the first time. “It’s sweet that you spend time with him like that.”
“It’s nothing, really. He’s a special kid.” He scratched the back of his head. You tried not to notice the slight flex in his muscles.
“I’m sure he’ll have a great time.” You said, managing to pull your eyes away from his arms.
“You know.” Eddie started, looking a bit timid. “I’ve got an extra ticket. You could come with us if you want. It’s this weekend in Indianapolis.”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be.” Eddie stepped a quarter of an inch closer to you. The proximity made you the slightest bit dizzy. “Maybe you’d have some fun. Forget about the asshole who made you cry.”
“The asshole?” Your eyebrow quirked up.
“Every man who makes a woman cry is an asshole and should be jailed.” He said with the most serious expression that you knew he wasn’t joking around.
“My, what a gentleman.” You found yourself inching closer to him too.
“My uncle taught me well.” Eddie puffed his chest out proudly. “So what do you say?”
“The Faire does sound really fun.” You paused. “But I think you should spend time with your brother. Since it’s his first time and everything.”
“Oh, y-yeah. You’re right.” Eddie’s cheeks were turning red. He started to move back when you spoke again.
“But… maybe you could tell me all about it after? Over coffee?” You offered, biting your lip shyly.
Eddie froze then his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?” You nodded, just as excited. “Fuck yeah! I’d love to.”
“I should… uh, give you my number. So you can call me?” That initial bout of confidence was fading away. The intensity of Eddie’s gaze made your knees weak.
“That seems like a good plan.” He nodded.
You pulled your pen out of your bag and dug around for a piece of paper but you couldn’t find anything. Pausing to think, your eyes drifted to the spattering of tattoos on Eddie’s arm. “May I?” You pointed at the back of his hand.
“Go ahead.” He gave you his hand. “I’m not afraid of some ink.”
You let his hand rest on your palm while your other hand scribbled your number on his skin. You had to write slower than usual to make sure the ink stuck. His eyes were burning holes in the side of your face. You spared a glance up at him and the corner of his lips twitched up when you met his gaze.
Ducking your chin, you tried to finish writing but your pen stopped working on the last number. Your lips pouted, petulantly. Eddie must’ve noticed since his thumb rubbed against the skin of your wrist, comfortingly. If you were a cartoon character, you were sure there would be a comical amount of steam coming off you right now with how hot your body felt.
A couple of taps against your thigh and the ink started flowing again. After the last stroke on the final number, you added a small heart beside it.
“Beautiful.” Eddie said. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you nor did he let go of your hand. “I should have you design my next tattoo.”
“Oh yeah, ‘cause my little hearts will definitely look good with that.” You poked the bats on his forearm.
“Damn right, it will. Hearts are metal.”
Before you could continue your banter, Dustin’s voice cut through the air. “Edward Munson, stop flirting and help me!” He had his hands on his hips and looked extremely cross with his brother. You let go of Eddie’s hand in embarrassment.
“I’m coming!” Eddie’s cheeks were red but his eyes were full of amusement. “As much as I’d love to stay, it looks like I gotta go.”
“I figured.” You were actually sad that your time with him was up. “You two have fun this weekend.”
“Thanks. Don’t go on any more dates with assholes, okay.” Eddie still had that playful grin but you heard the slightest hint of unease in his voice.
“I won’t.” You assured him.
You said your goodbyes and walked away. Every couple of steps, you looked back at Eddie. You felt like a teenager again, willing for her crush to look at her in class. You took one last look at Eddie and, as fate would have it, he was turning to look at you too. Both your eyes went wide, a similar situation to your meeting just a couple of minutes ago.
The two of you laughed and Eddie drove the toy arrow into his chest dramatically. He threw his body back on the ground and rolled in the grass. When he got up, he had a smidge of dirt on his cheek but that smile never dimmed. You’d be thinking about that smile all day.
That very night your phone rang.
“I hope you don’t mind.” Eddie said over the receiver. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “Neither could I.”
This is your last chance, Cupid. You thought. Please let him be the one.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things#she speaks
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https://www.tumblr.com/mirohlayo/736270231017865216/my-introvert-girl-ln4?source=share
Is it bad I wanna see avas reaction andl her showing everyone she hates reader?
okay so i didn't intend to write a part 2 for my introvert girl but many anons asked me for ava's reaction so here is it !! 🫶
MY INTROVERT GIRL | LN4 (pt2)
( lando and you are finally together, but it seems one girl still hates you no matter what )
warning : slight angst, insecurity, fluff, like a lil innuendo but that's all, soft lando
note : not gonna write a part 3 because i think it's useless, but already pretty proud of these 2 parts !!
word count : 4k
!! english not my first language !!
lando and you are dating for quite some weeks now. and everything is going wonderfully. he has never been so in love, and therefore the same for you. he loves you so much and he's never tired of showing it, you being overwhelmed by his affection.
he doesn't hesitate to show the entire world how precious you are to him, and if he has to prove it until everyone notices that you are his he will do it for eternity. and you would do the same for him without a doubt, he is your first boyfriend ever and certainly the last of your life.
your love is so intense and can be feel wherever you two go, that necessarily it does not go unnoticed. especially in the eyes of the pretty blonde who obviously feels the same feelings for lando as you. even if it's always good to remember that lando only has eyes for you and only you.
and it gets on ava's nerves. when she knew about you dating, her jealousy towards you has only increased. she saw red. she was horrified by this sudden new. she was sure lando would ends up dating her because there was no world in which he would have ended up with an introvert like you.
she finds you so bland. uninteresting. you're not comfortable with people and being shy you're not talkative. and you're always stuck on lando's side as if you were going to die if you didn't stay close to him.
and the fact that lando doesn't see anything wrong with it and isn't even a little annoyed by your behavior because he adores when his girl gets clingy. he always ends up staring at you with tenderness like you are the most beautiful thing in the world.
you here, you there. ava hates it. she detests you. if we would offer her the choice to break your couple she would do it without hesitation. and this is obviously what she intends to do. because since she sees no point in lando dating his complete opposite, such an introvert girl. no, he needs an funny and extrovert girl like ava to match him.
winter break allows the f1 drivers to relax and to rest, to spend time with their loved ones. lando was looking forward to it since it's his first winter break with you, so he wants to make the most of it to spend as much time as possible with you.
he organized many trips, one of them is a trip to vietnam. some of his closest friends will take part in the trip, including ava. normally, she wasn't supposed to come but ria had an hold up so she ended up replacing her. to her greatest happiness of course.
for your part, you weren't comfortable with going on this trip with the blonde girl. you know very well how much she hates you and that she wants to ruin your romantic relationship. you don't want to alert lando or anyone else, you don't want to create problems because it's not in your nature unlike ava. so you just decided not to say anything.
you told yourself that putting up with her presence and her stupid remarks for a week wasn't going to be that complicated. and then you'll be with your lover most of the time, so ava won't be able to speak to you much. ignoring her will be the best solution.
you arrived two days ago now, and after eating you all decided to spend the afternoon on the beach playing games like volleyball or even mini football. nothing but just activities for fun.
everyone is excited to play games, but you're not really in the mood. you're feeling a little tired and you just don't feel like having fun right now. on the one hand, your shyness also forces you to stay locked up in the hotel. you like playing games but you're afraid of making a fool of yourself in front of others. especially in front of ava.
so you inform lando about it, that you weren't coming, and he told you that he wasn't going to leave the hotel and stay with you either.
"baby it's okay, i'll stay in the hotel room. go play with the others" you say to him before slip in under the blanket. "no. if you don't go then neither do i. i’ll stay with you" he retorts, joining you in the bed.
he places himself above you, his chest on yours and his arms tightly wrap your waist. "please lando. i know how much you want to spend time with your friends so i would never refuse that to you. i don't want you to stay locked up because of me" you say to convince him.
"but that's the point, i want to stay locked up with you baby. you’re the one i want to spend time with the most. i don't really care about the others for now. if you stay here, then me too. i just want you with me” he pouts, and places his chin on your stomach.
you look down to plant your eyes in his gaze and he shows you his prettiest smile. what an adorable man. "okay fine. but i don't want you to be mad at me for that later" you warn him. "never. i would never blame you, love” he said before hiding his head in the crook of your neck.
"love you" he muffles and his breath tickles you. "i love you too lan" you says before pressing a soft kiss on his hair. you start playing with his curls, while he's here holding you close, leaving some kisses here and there on your shoulder and neck.
an hour passes like this, you two cuddling close to each other. a text from max makes lando's phone vibrate and he groans. he extends his hand lazily and grab his phone to read the text. "what he's saying ?" you ask, sounding sleepy. "if we're going to join them or not" he replies sounding the same as you.
you think for a few moments. lando was going to put his phone down on the nightstand when you finally suggest that you must go out and join the others on the beach. "are you sure? do you really want to go outside?" he asks you cautiously, his tired eyes scanning your face. "yes. i want to stretch out. your body made me sag" you tease him and he rolls his eyes letting out a laugh. “just say i'm too heavy” “no you’re perfect baby”.
he can't help but blush so hard. god it's the first time that a girl has had such an effect on him. and it seems that it flutters him even more coming from an introvert. "fine. let's go then my girl" he says and in a second you're already outside, walking hand in hand to join your friends.
“it looks like the sloths are back” pietra says, nodding towards the couple arriving on the beach. “we didn’t even sleep” lando responds defensively. “oh so you must have done dirty things then" max said playfully, giving implied glances to the two lovers.
lando can feel himself blushing really hard, just like you. “shut up you muppet. you're saying bullshit" you reply embarrassed. everyone seems amused by the situation except of course one person.
ava.
she seems to be killing you with her gaze, looking you up and down like you're the plague itself. of course lando doesn't notice, too hypnotized by the beautiful girl walking beside him. he almost falls to the ground because of you.
“well, looks like y/n finally got the guts to show herself. which is rare with her, we almost wonder if she even exists sometimes.” ava looks at you and displays a fake, hypocritical smile. no one seems to laugh at her remark and the atmosphere becomes uncomfortable. you don't know where to go or how to react. you feel a little humiliated to tell the truth.
"huh, what did you say ?" lando remarks, a little confused by what the blonde just said. the girl sighs and rolls her eyes before showing her smile that you dream of making her swallow. “oh it’s okay, it was just kidding. we all know that y/n isn’t comfortable with people but i love her anyway” she finally added.
you feel like shit. she's talking like you're the worst scumbag on earth and you don't even have the strength to defend yourself. your shyness seems to be taking over. "um well. okay ava just stop talking and instead start playing. you've been losing every round since a while ago" martin says to lighten the atmosphere because everyone seemed disturbed and embarrassed by the situation.
you sigh and slowly drop lando's hand, but he holds it tightly and looks at you. “don't worry baby, i'm going to stay with you. we can relax on the deckchairs if you prefer” lando kindly offers you, he wants to make you feel comfortable.
“as you wish” you shrug your shoulders trying to hide your sadness and pain and lando smiles at you before leading you towards the deckchairs. he lays down comfortably on one and you move towards another one close to his. but he grabs your hand and makes you sit on his legs. “lie on me love” he begs you with his eyes.
you smile shyly at him and stand up. "nah. we're in public lando, i don't want to receive all the teasing from our friends" you declare before lying down on another deckchair. he pouts, disappointed not to feel your body against his. he even brings his deckchair closer to yours so he can hold your hand, or play with a few strands of your hair.
the sun is strong and the beach umbrella protects you, with of course the sunscreen that you put on before. the waves dance loudly and the laughter of your friends fills the atmosphere with joy. it's calming.
well, it was calming for a little while. ava noticed that you weren't with them playing a game of volleyball and while scanning the surroundings, she spotted you on the deckchairs, silly smiles on your races and lando being extremely touchy with you.
she hates this view. she hates you. she would like to tear off your smile and make you disappear. she already imagines herself in your place, laughing loudly with lando. you are not in your place. it's her. you don't deserve lando.
she walks briskly towards the two of you, and your faces turn towards her. the blonde smiles hypocritically and without any hesitation, she sits on the edge of your lover's deckchair. which you don't like at all. and neither does lando, since he doesn't wait a single second to gently push her with his leg.
she seems hurt and shows it openly, putting her hand to her heart to express her pain ironically. "you hurt me lando. i thought we were friends" she said in a sad tone. “we kind of are. but this place is reserved for my girlfriend only” he answers, holding your hand tighter.
you feel more reassured and you feel your heart soar at the words of your lover. he knows when to show others that it's only you who matters. this comment makes ava roll her eyes, but it's subtle enough that only you notice. she sits on another deck chair and turns to you.
“why don’t you come play with us?” she starts to start a conversation. “y/n doesn’t really want to and neither do i, so i'm staying with her.” lando says and she lets a mocking laugh come out of her mouth and you look at her surprised. “it looks like you’re babysitting her” she says, laughing.
did you hear that correctly? is she serious? you can't let this go. “what did you say?” you ask with a frown. she lets another laugh escape and it also attracts lando's attention. "you seem like you're a baby who always needs lando's attention. he looks like a babysitter because of you"
it’s lando’s turn to frown. he holds your hand a little more firmly. “what do you mean ava?” he says, he knows something is wrong. the blonde sighs deeply and rolls her eyes, glaring at y/n.
"look, she's not even capable of playing with others and having fun. she's stopping you from having good times. she's so shy and... introverted that she's ruining your holidays, even your personal space. she's always stuck to you, it seems like she doesn't know how to cope without you it's just... pathetic." she unpacks it all while looking at you with disgust.
oh you feel so humiliated now. you feel tears coming but you hold them back, crying in front of her will only make things worse. you feel so weak and worthless. you blame yourself for being so insecure, being so shy and reserved. because maybe it's the truth.
maybe lando is finally fed up with you and he hates being around you, stuck with an ordinary and shy person like you. he probably can't have the fun he wants because of your shyness. maybe it's true, you're like a child who's ruining his life.
"don't ever talk about her that way again. you really disgust me ava. you don't even measure up to her and you dare open your fucking mouth to say bullshit" lando starts to raise his voice. you can tell he looks extremely angry.
“oh because you also want to defend her?” she asks mockingly. "i defend her and will defend her no matter what happens. you don't have to talk to my girlfriend like that when she is everything you will never be" he spits his words in her face and gives her a cold look.
he jumps up and holds your hand tightly. when his gaze falls on you, it softens. “come on y/n. let’s go back to the hotel” he pulls you towards him and walks you to the hotel pushing ava out of the way. “get out. i don’t want to see you anymore.” he says his last words to her.
the blonde remains standing, alone. a strange, painful and hurtful feeling takes hold of her. the rest of the group stopped playing, observing the scene. now it's ava's turn to feel humiliated. why did she do that?
for your part, you and Lando return to your hotel room. it's silent. he opens the door and you run to take refuge in the bed, so that he joins you a few seconds later. "don't worry baby. don't listen to her, she's talking nonsense. she just wants to destroy you" lando tries to reassure you and you just nod your head.
you smile at him to reassure him in turn, although deep down you are still a little worried. you're still a little hurt. a part of you tells you that it's true, that Lando doesn't like being constantly stuck to you. you don't like it at all.
the rest of the afternoon passes quickly for your boyfriend, but slowly for you. you can't stop overthinking, thinking about ava's words. part of your brain still makes you believe that you don't deserve lando and that he will be better off with ava. it eats you from the inside. you don't like to doubt lando but ava makes you feel vulnerable and insecure.
and your boyfriend noticed it. he noticed that you had become quieter, you only spoke to him very recently. and he starts to worry about you. he suspects deep down that it's because of earlier that you seem off. so he knows exactly what to do.
he proposed, well more like forced you to watch the sunset, just the two of you, him and you on the beach. no group of friends, no ava, no games, no, just the two of you on the beach. you weren't for it at first but you love sunsets and night walks on the beach, so you finally gave up. especially if it's with lando. you walk hand in hand on the warm sand. the waves rock your ears and the sun slowly begins to set on the horizon. how beautiful. you find a comfortable spot and sit down, lando still holding your hand in his.
he gently caresses it with his thumb, pressing a few random kisses on the back of your hand. he rests your head on his shoulder, and you admire the magnificent landscape in the distance. it's soothing, it's romantic.
"beautiful right?” lando murmurs against you, staring into the distance. you smile to yourself. “very beautiful” “just like you” he responds quickly and you can tell he’s grinning. you laugh softly and shake your head. “how cheesy” you blurt out and it’s his turn to let out a soft laugh.
oh his laugh.
although you still hide it, lando knows he needs to talk to you. that he must reassure you. that he has to make you sure how much he loves you and that he would literally do anything for you. because you're the only girl who makes it feel this good.
“y/n” he whispers your name so softly, and it warms your heart. “hmm babe?” you hum. he moves to get a little closer to you and rests his head on yours. "i know what you're thinking about since this afternoon” he begins cautiously not wanting to rush you. he knows your nature.
"w-what ?" you try to hide. but you know very well that he knows you by heart. “please don’t try to avoid the subject. you know what i'm talking about.” he ends up saying.
you sigh. you know you have to talk to him about it, it will only do you good. “yes sorry.” "don't feel sorry love. take your time". he said in such a caring way. he presses a soft kiss against your hair. and another on your cheek. he loves kissing your face so much.
you take a deep breath. you press your hand a little more against his. "it's just... it's just that i feel so insecure when ava talks about me like that. i keep telling myself that i don't deserve you, that you deserve someone who looks like you and who is not your opposite. like ava". you pause but you know he continues to be attentive and listen to you.
"i..." you continue "i keep thinking that it must bore you to stay constantly and always with me. that my shyness surely prevents you from having fun and enjoying your life to the fullest. that i'm like a drag and dating an introvert like me is a bad idea” you finish, tears soon escaping your eyes.
now he faces you. he looks at you with so much gentleness, so much affection and love. his gaze becomes sadder when he hears what is on your heart and his heart suddenly tightens at your words. he hates hearing you talk about yourself like that, devaluing you when all he loves about you is what you're insecure about.
“my baby…” he whispers and places his hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently. he wipes with his thumb a tear that has just escaped your eyes. he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and smiles affectionately at you.
"i wish you could see you through my eyes". he places another kiss on your forehead. the sun illuminates his face, the waves seem to transport you.
"i fucking love you. like fucking fucking love you. it's me who doesn’t deserve you. it's me who should hate myself for not always making you feel secure about me and our relationship" he explains. "i don't care about ava, you know that. she is absolutely nothing compared to you. it's not her or someone like her that i want. it's you. you're the only one i want and need so badly".
his hands slide to grab yours. "being constantly by your side is the best thing in the world. i don't care if we are in the worst place in the world, in the worst possible situation, as long as i am with you and by your side i know that everything will be fine. there's nowhere i'd like to be without you. it's just impossible. all i fucking want is to stay with you as long as possible."
he smiles brightly at you before finishing. "and your shyness will not change my love for you or how i live my life. i fell in love with you because of this side of you, because you are introverted and you are so much my opposite that i am extremely attracted to you. it's like that. so don't blame yourself, because i don't want you to change that even though it doesn't even bother me a little bit. i love it. i adore you. i love you and i love you. love you and i will always love you"
you sure you look like nothing now. your eyes must probably be puffy and red but that's okay. lando doesn't care too. you can't help but smile at him with all your teeth. “i love you so much lando. i love you with all my heart and that will never change” you whisper against his neck.
he places thousands of kisses on your head, caressing your back. god how much he loves you too, your love is so deep and strong. “hope it'll never change then” he adds and puts his arms around your waist, bringing you as close to his body as possible.
and without a word, in a calming silence, you stay in each other's arms until the sun sets completely. a starry sky now paints the night. you are still glued to each other, your head on your lover's stretched out legs. you admire the stars while he admires you. it's perhaps one of his favorite activities. just looking at you, like the most beautiful paintings in the world. but soon you notice that he doesn't pay attention to the sky and you point this out to him, teasing him.
“look at the sky, it's so pretty” you hum “but you're prettier” he simply retorts, telling the truth. you roll your eyes and let out a small laugh. “never tired of being cheesy” you laugh shyly. “never” he adds while smiling. but he ends up raising his head towards the sky. it is true that the stars are infinitely beautiful. they shine so much, and he can't help but describe them like that, as he describes you the same way. he runs his hand through your hair, eyes anchored to the stars.
“do you see all these stars?” he asks and you hum in response. "i would hunt them all for you if you asked me. i would bring them all to you if that's what you want. ask me to bring down the moon and i would do it without hesitation just for you" he said softly, a silly smile on his lips.
you can’t help but burst out laughing. “how romantic” you tease him but deep down you melt, feeling so confident after all those sweet words. he lowers his head to look at you, smiling fully.
he admires you for a moment, take in your features. his heart never stops beating faster at the sight of you, even after weeks of being in a relationship. and he leans down to finally kiss you, his lips capturing yours perfectly. gosh he loves kissing you so much, he might never stop. he pulls back and pecks your nose.
“love you always, my introvert girl” he smiles softly.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#ln4 imagine#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#ln4 x reader
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