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russellsppttemplates · 7 days

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I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)

People seem to forget you're dating Oscar

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: jealous themes

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.

"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.

"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.

"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.

"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.

"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.

"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.

"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.

"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.

Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.

"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.

"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.

"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.

You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.

When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.

"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.

Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.

"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.

"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.

"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.

"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".

Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.

"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.

"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.

"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".

"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.

"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.

"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.

"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".

"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.

"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".

Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.

Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.

By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.

You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.

Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match

I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together

She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother

Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend

I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver

Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship

She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her

She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?

These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that

The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.

The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.

"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.

"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.

"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.

"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.

"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.

"Yes!", you answered loudly.

"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.

"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".

"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".

Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.

"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.

"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.

"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.

"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.

"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.

"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.

"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.

"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".

Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".

The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.

"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.

"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.

"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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f1smutwriter · 1 month

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so excited to see that youre willing to write about so many drivers i feel like a lot of them do not get enough love. anywhooo maybe arthur x pierres younger sister, where everyone always thought they’d get together and pierre was always just like “no. not gonna happen” but it definitely happened anyway 😩 ly pookie definitely wont be my last time requesting 💁‍♀️

|𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐥𝟏𝟐)

Arthur Leclerc x little!Gasly reader

Summary: Little Leclerc and Little Gasly aren’t so little anymore. They end up showing each other their true feelings but how would their brothers react

Warning: nothing just me ugly crying while writing this

Notes: Stop girl thank you so much. I do feel like a lot of the drivers get unappreciated. I love your energy and yes please request more would love to hear your ideas ♡︎

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April 9, 2005

“Look at them both, they’re so cute” Pascale said to mine and Pierre’s mom as they see me and Arthur in the front yard riding bikes together when our older brothers are at karting practice with our dads.

“I feel like those two are gonna get together in the future” My mom said to Pascale while smiling on the front porch drinking tea together. “Arthur you can’t do that you have to go straight no zigzag” I told Arthur the rules again to our game we were playing. “petit lapin that wasn’t part of the rules” he told me while still going in zigzags. “Thur play fair, and y/n that wasn’t in the rules” Enzo said making sure we didn’t argue anymore making Arthur stop and me pouting.

“Look at her pout” Pascale said to my mom pointing at my pout on my face. “Watch he’s gonna feel bad” Pascale laughed softly and without a heart beat Arthur came to me and said sorry. “I’m sorry petit lapin I won’t zigzag anymore” He said to me while holding my hand making me laugh a little.

When I see my dad’s car in the drive way I run to it wanting to see my older brother and Charles. Once they got out the car they had their bags in their hands making me help them. “Soleil it’s too heavy for you” Pierre said to me before kissing my head making me pout because I wanted to help. I skip over to my dad and jump into his arms “Papa I won racing with Arthur” I said to my dad while Arthur is talking with my brother and Arthur “I let her win” he whispered to them loud enough for me to hear.

“Hey no you didn’t I won fair and square” I say pouting at him not liking that he said he let me win. “Okay, okay I’m sorry you won fair and square” He said telling my little five year old self before I skipped to my mom and Pascale. “She could barely reach the petals so Enzo gave her a push” he laughed before going to me and the mom’s. “Maman can I have some water” I asked my mom when she put me on her lap. “Go ask your brother mon amour” she told me softly before kissing my head softly. Instead of asking my brother I skip to Arthur. “Thur can you help me get water” I asked with my puppy dog eyes that got him every time. Without a second to waste he gets up and walks with me to the kitchen.

“Soleil why didn’t you ask me” Pierre called out from the porch stair where him and Charles were talking. “Because Thur does it better” I shouted back before going back to Arthur. “I hope you know she has a crush on my brother” Charles said chuckling to Pierre who was an upset. “No she doesn’t, she’s not allowed to have crushes anytime soon” Pierre said a bit angrily not liking the idea of his little sister having a crush.

“Sorry buddy but she does” Our mom said while chuckling softly while sipping a bit of her tea. All of a sudden they hear my giggles from the kitchen, they all look inside and see me on Arthur’s back as he spins me around a bit. “Told ya” Charles chuckled before making Pierre roll his eyes staring at his little sister and his best friends little brother.

October 14, 2010

“Thur where are you” I call out from outside his room. When he didn’t answer I went to Charles room. “Cha have you seen Thur I have his present but he’s not opening his door” I asked holding his birthday present in my hand. “Yeah he told me to tell you to go in the tree house” Charles said while doing his hair. “Thank you cha” I giggled before running to the tree house hearing Arthur.

“Thur” I sang from the bottom of the tree house before giggling when I see him stick his head out. “petit lapin what are you doing here” he asked me looking confused on why I was at the house so early. “Got you a present that I want you to open in private” I said softly before climbing the ladder to the tree house. He just smile at me helping me up the last step before looking at the present in my hand. “You didn’t have to petit lapin I don’t expect anything” he whispered softly to me holding my hand still.

“Here open” I squealed excitedly giving him the present. He just smiled at my reaction before opening it and seeing a red bracelet. “I know your favorite color is red because of Ferrari so I made you a red bracelet, so that one day when you become a Ferrari driver you have a perfect bracelet” I explain before looking at him. “Do you like it” I asked him before feeling him pull me into a hug. “I love it Mon petit lapin” he whispered softly into my ear making me smile before hugging him back.

“Love you Thur” I whispered to him softly. “I love you too Mon petit lapin” he whispered back to me before we get called down by Charles and Pierre. We get down and Pierre sees the red bracelet on Arthur’s wrist. “She spent all day and night making that for you” he whispered to Arthur before looking at his little sister who was laughing with Charles about something stupid Charles had said. “Really” Arthur mumbled not believing that his petit lapin did that for him. On that very day he realized he was gonna be friends with her forever.

February 14, 2016

“No Thur it’s embarrassing everyone has a valentine but me” I mumbled against my pillow as he just chuckled rubbing my back. “Come on petit lapin, it’s not that bad” he laughed making me groan loudly in my pillow. “It is bad because even you have a date” I grumbled looking at him holding the teddy bear that he got me at the fair. “Your fifteen do you really need a valentine” he says to me softy rubbing my leg to make me feel better.

“You act like you’re so much older then me” I say smiled before looking at him with a bigger smile. “Go have fun your girl is probably waiting for you” I encouraged him to go have fun while holding my bear. “You sure because I don’t have to go” he asked me groan. “Yes go don’t be miserable here with me go have fun on your date Thur” I reassured him before I see him get up and walk out the door to go get ready for his date.

I sigh going into the kitchen and getting by all the good snacks we had. My mom just comes and sees me confused “what’s wrong Mon amour” she asked me seeing me get the good snacks. “No Valentine equals a very sad day maman” I said with a sad smile trying to lighten up the mood. “It’s okay Mon amour there will be many men lined up for you soon” she reassured me kissing my head before going back upstairs.

A few hours I hear the doorbell, then I hear my mom call me down stairs. “Y/n it’s for you amour” she called for me from the door. I groaned getting with my big pajama pants and Pierre’s hoodie that i never gave back going down stairs. “Who is it” I asked from the stairs before going to the door seeing Arthur with a big box of chocolate chips cookies along with white and pink tulips. “Wow look at you she’s gonna love it” I said softly with a smile before fixing his glasses that I loved on him. “Do you like it” he asked me with a smile as I fix his glasses. “Of course I do and she will too” I replied before looking at the beautiful flowers again.

“Well then my girl here are your favorite flowers and since you hate chocolate and can’t be normal whatsoever here is your cookies with chocolate that make no sense” he says to me giving me the flowers and cookies. “Thur what are you doing” I asked him holding the flowers and cookies. “Y/n Gasly, my petit lapin will you do me such an honor of being my Valentine” he questioned making me look up at him with a huge smile on your face. “Are you being serious right now” I asked almost about to cry from the sweet gesture.

“Actually now that I think about it I asked the wrong Gasly” he grinned at me making my eyes roll automatically. “Your stupid Leclerc” I said before hugging him wrapping my arms around his neck. “Not as stupid as you Gasly” he whispered to me wrapping his arms around my waist. My mom and dad just looking at us with awe on their faces when Arthur did all that for me. “I got more stuff in the car like food from your favorite restaurant, your favorite drink and everything else Mon petit lapin” he said softly kissing my head making me look up at him with the biggest smile on my face.

That was the day I realized I was in love with Arthur Leclerc.

November 18, 2023

Me and Arthur are walking down the strip of Las Vegas for the very first time. “This is Las Vegas, don’t really get the hype” Arthur laughed while walking around and looking at all the buildings. “Well Las Vegas is about gambling and drinking so” I giggled swinging our hands back and forth. “Yeah my pockets are done for the day” he told me before we walk in the lobby of our hotel. “Wanna go bother Pierre and Charles” I asked him with a slight smile on my face making him chuckle. “Let’s go” he says dragging me to the poker game they were playing with the other f1 drivers

“Hey tripod” I say to my brother before kissing his cheek and placing my head on his shoulder. “Soleil go bother someone else like max he’s winning right now” he whispered to me so no one else heard him. “No he scares me” I whispered back making him laugh and me just giggle. “Just go please and I’ll buy you sushi tomorrow” he offered making me going over to max placing my chin on his shoulder. “Max verstappen what are you doing on this fine evening” I say before he looks at me making me smile big and bright.

“Trying to ignore a certain Gasly” he says back with the same smile making me laugh. “Okay, okay I’m sorry please forgive me” I said before going to Arthur and sitting next to him at the booth where the rest of the drivers were. “I just realized is little Leclerc and Little Gasly dating” Max Fewtrell asked Lando who was drinking his drink. “Yeah they’ve been dating for like a while now, I think their childhood sweetheart.

“Wanna go back up and order room service” Arthur asked me while rubbing my thigh softly. “Always” I whispered before getting up off him and going to the elevators. “I still can’t believe you still have this” I say holding his hand and pointing at the red bracelet I made on his twelfth birthday. “A very special girl made it for me” he whispered softly to me before we walk to the room. “Yeah how special is she” I asked softly still holding his hand.

“Well she’s really special, the day she made me this was the day I fell in love with her” he says to me softly making me stop in my tracks. “W-what” I stuttered softly not believing the words that came out of his mouth. “I said the day she made me this was the day I fell in love with her, even though it was my twelfth birthday and she was 10 I fell hard” he whispered softly to me making me tear up.

“Please tell me you’re not joking, because if you are imma die Leclerc” I ranted fast making him look at me with his smile. “Never Mon petit lapin” he said before holding my face and kissing me. I kiss him back the guy I’ve loved for the past eleven years. The boy I had a crush on at five years old. I was kissing him I was finally kissing him.

He pulled away putting his forehead on mine. “I love you so much Mon petit lapin” he says while he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I love you so much more Thur” I say back tearing up happy tears now that I finally had the love of my life in my arms. He kissed me the man that I’ve been in love with for eleven years counting finally kissed me.

———

March 6 2024

“Gosh this feels so surreal” Charles said fixing Pierre’s and his bow ties in the back room. “I know I mean I always knew they were gonna end up together but wow it doesn’t feel real” Pierre said softly tearing up realizing his little sister his Soleil was gonna get married. He hugs Charles tearing up in his shoulder as Charles tears up with him.

“Oh come on I can’t have my best men cry on me” Arthur says before hugging them both softly laughing at the two. “Bunch of cry babies” he teased them before Pierre pulls away. “Hey my baby sister is gonna be a Leclerc let me have my moment” Pierre told him before wiping away his tears and looking at Arthur. My dad calls for Arthur telling him it’s time. “Promise me you’ll take care of her” Pierre said looking at him with a smile.

“I promise” Arthur said back before hugging him quickly making his way down to the doors where everyone is. They open the door for him and he walks down the aisle first seeing everyone he loves is there. His mom, my mom, all our friends and family. He makes it down to where the priest is taking his spot before all the maid of honors and best men walked down with each other. After then were the flower girls spreading white and pink tulip petals. After them I come in with my arm entangled with my dad’s as he tears up and tells me how much he loves me. He walks me down to my spot in front of Arthur where he mouths to me with tears in his eyes how beautiful I was.

The priest starts the reception not hearing anything but just staring at Arthur with so much love in my eyes showing him I couldn’t wait to be his forever. “Do you y/n, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live” the priest says to me making me squeeze his hands a bit making sure he knows I will first. “I do” I say softly while looking into Arthur’s eyes.

“And Do you Arthur, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live” the priest asked Arthur making him squeeze my hand like I did to him. “I do” he said back to me making a smile pop up on my face along with tears. I turn around and grab the wedding band from Kika and he turns around to grab it from Pierre. I slide it on his ring finger as he slides his on mine.

“I know pronounce you husband and wife, Arthur you may now kiss your bride” he said making Arthur grab me and kiss me softly. Feeling the feeling I’ve had in my body for eleven years slowly come back. I kissed him back before pulling away as everyone is clapping for us. I grab his hand and we both walk down the aisle hand in hand going to the car to go to our honeymoon. I kiss him one last time before kissing and hugging everyone good bye before I get in the car where Arthur is waiting for me. “So Mrs. Leclerc Gasly where would you like to go first” Arthur asked me as he puts the car in drive.

“Anywhere you are Mr. Leclerc Gasly” I said before rolling down our windows and driving off wherever we will go. Only we know that and that’s only for us to know.

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Notes: I’m not crying you are. I know you asked me something so little but I just had to make it um how do you say it. ✨extra✨ which made the story a masterpiece. I did this scene twice because I forgot to save it and I left and everything went with me sooo. I really hope you like it and more story’s coming soon.

#arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 fluff #f2 fanfic #f2 fluff #f2 fic #f1 x reader

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metalhoops · 1 year

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‘Of course, I remember you.’

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher.

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting.

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky.

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that?

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating?

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that.

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy.

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’.

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him.

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy.

‘You might not remember me’.

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them.

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them.

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates.

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer.

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like.

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold.

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears.

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike.

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting.

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code.

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them.

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions.

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin.

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?”

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation.

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer.

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates.

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him.

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief.

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?”

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted.

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh.

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?”

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different. He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different.

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?”

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?”

#steddie #steddie ficlet #fictlet #drabble #steddie drabble #obligatory soulmate au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things 4 #steveddie #I love reading soulmate aus #but I've never written one #so first time for everything #metalhoops writes

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cassandraclare · 3 months

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*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

#the wicked powers

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riverwalsh · 3 months

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nicole my love !

where do you stand on brat tamer!frank …… would he be quick to react? grabbing your jaw after you give him attitude, raising his eyebrows at you with a warning “watch the mouth, yeah?” in that thick raspy voice? or is he rubbing a warm hand in circles on your lower back, quietly muttering a “don’t gotta act out for attention, baby.” i need 2 knooooow 🤗

— princessbrunette ♡

an; thank u for the request princess, sorry it took so long but i love u dearly 🤍 i always seem to take your requests in a little crazy direction so just bear with me (also note to everyone please ignore the verb tense changing like halfway through it turned into something of a drabble and i don’t feel like fixing it. so enjoy.)

cw; female!reader, mentions of blood/violence, cockwarming. that’s about it.

18+ only mdni

i think frank would be pretty good at reading you. he knows what makes you itch; like when he leaves his boots, carelessly splattered with the blood of a lowlife (or three) that will surely be named in tomorrow morning’s newspaper, strewn haphazardly on the living room floor for you to trip over when you get home. or, when you ask him about said lowlife(s) and he brushes you off, mumbling something about how it doesn’t matter anyways, and they got what was coming to them, before disappearing for the third night that week. it makes you feel so goddamn lonely.

it was these things, among others of course. sometimes frank castle was just so goddamn stubborn it made your skin crawl.

buuuut, frank also knows what makes you feel better. knows how to handle you when you start letting your irritation show. he’d just accept your little quips and snide remarks for a while. let you take out just a little bit your pent up frustration out on him—i mean, he kinda deserves it sometimes, right? he knows this, you know this. and yet, he knew exactly when to make it right.

“fuck you, frank,” you muttered as you frantically pulled your shoes on, already late for work. everything had already gone wrong for you that morning—your first alarm didn’t go off, your shower was lukewarm at best, and you burnt your last bagel. and now, as you were ready to leave, frank suddenly decided he wanted to talk.

“whoa, whoa, whoa, hey.” his tone was firm, a hand coming out as if in warning. as annoyed as you got, you hardly ever swore at frank. “what’s wrong with you?”

there he is.

“what’s wrong with me?” you asked incredulously, grabbing your keys off the hook. “wha- what’s wrong with you?! you’re fucking gone almost every night this week, i’m getting calls from karen practically every five minutes-”

“she’s just-“

“don’t you fucking dare play dumb like you didn’t ask her to check in on me,” you cut him off quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him. you knew how you were being but you couldn’t help it at this point. “i can handle myself, frank. maybe if you just told me what the fuck was going on i could just-”

“you could just what? hm?” his voice was quiet, but commanding. his arms crossed in front of him as he postured intimidatingly toward you, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge to keep talking. your mouth snapped shut immediately, heart jumping as you lowered your hand that was still hovering mid-air.

you swallowed thickly, putting your keys into your bag with less of a rush, suddenly more careful of your movements. he watched you thoughtfully for a moment, before slowly making his way toward you, boots heavy as they met the hardwood below. you could do nothing but stare at him as he came closer, irritation suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

“you, uh…” he paused, not for lack of words but simply dramatics. “you think you’re pretty tough, that right?”

“i never said that,” you replied quickly, shaking your head and averting your gaze. his hand was quick to grab your chin, forcing your head up to look him in the eye.

“‘i can handle myself.’ ain’t that what you just said?” his voice was low and rough, like he’d just swallowed sandpaper. your breath came out trembling, and when you didn’t answer fast enough for his liking, his grip grew tighter, rattling you a bit. “you answer me when i’m talkin’ to you, girl.”

“y-yes, that’s what i said,” you answered, voice wavering slightly. his gaze was piercing, eyes searching yours for a moment before releasing his grip, leaving you stumbling backwards into the front door.

“everything i do is for you,” he starts, adam's apple bobbing as he reaches out to place a more gentle hand on your arm, thumb rubbing your skin in soft circles. his eyes are still ablaze, and the dissonance makes you shiver. “everything, everything i fuckin’ do out there is to make sure none of my shit makes it back home to you, you got that? i’m not gonna let anyone lay a finger on you.” you find yourself nodding, mindlessly, letting his words soothe the irritation that had built up inside you. his calloused fingers find their way back to your face and he rubs his thumb across the plush of your lower lip, gauging the intensifying rise and fall of your chest.

he knows you. he knows what you need.

he nods almost curtly in understanding, letting his touch linger a bit longer just to feel the warmth of your shaking breath. “now you watch your goddamn language when you’re speakin’ to me, sweetheart. go on.” he jerked his head toward the door before turning around and heading for the kitchen without so much as another glance in your direction. “you’re gonna be late.”

you were in fact a few minutes late to work, but you were exactly on time getting home, that’s for sure. maybe even a few minutes earlier than usual.

and frank was waiting for you, of course he was. it was barely five minutes from walking through the door before he had you completely stripped, sitting obediently still in his lap as you wept into his shoulder.

“easy,” he cooed, squeezing your hips to keep you from rocking too much. “you quit all that cryin’ and start talking.”

your tears darkened his shirt as you clung to him helplessly, stuffed full of his thick cock and intoxicated by his voice.

“i-i just wan’you to talk to me, frank,” you cried, grasping weakly for purchase on his shoulders. “you get so distant and push me away…but i just wanna be helpful to you.” your voice was quiet and almost conspiratorial where you whispered into his neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses into his warm skin. “i just-

“hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, grabbing your neck to pull you back and look into his darkened eyes. his voice was rough with restraint—it was nothing short of a miracle he was holding it together, what with you clenching around him desperately with every breath. “none of that. you wanna know how you can help me?”

you nodded fervently.

“by stayin’ your ass right fuckin’ here,” he grit, eliciting a pathetic moan from you as he drew you in impossibly closer. “by wakin’ up in the mornin’ and goin’ to work like you have been. by doin’ what i say, when i say it. by trustin’ that everything i do out there is for you, it’s for you.” he punctuated his words with a press to your lower back, guiding you to roll your hips against him slowly. “that’s how you can help me. you got that?”

“yes, frank, yes, yes,” you whined, letting his words placate you as you began to move against him with more eagerness. “i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry-”

“shh, shh, shh, you don’t apologize,” he soothed, his voice strained, blunt nails digging crescents into your plush skin. “you don’t apologize to me, girl, you just take what you need baby, you take it from me, yeah? you take it and then we can talk, baby, just fuckin’- oh, fuck- you just take it-”

so yeah, frank knows how to handle you and your bratty attitude just fine.

#princessbrunette #frank castle #frank castle smut #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank x reader #frank castle x you #frank x you #the punisher smut #frank castle x f!reader

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byoldervine · 4 months

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Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

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atimeofyourlife · 5 months

Text

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington has bad parents #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #atimeofyourwrites

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cameronspecial · 5 months

Note

Hi, so I have a scenario in mind; where Zach loses his memories and instead of fixating on a relationship, he can't even remember having, he instead finds himself falling for his best friend, and conveniently, the only person he does remember. And it's just Y/n trying to convince him of all the good times he and his girlfriend had (because she's a "good friend that wants him to be happy even if it's not with her") but he couldn't care less, because none of the superficial shit she tells him, compares to the memories he has of her.

She'd be like, "Oh, you two are so cute, omg 🙄 you take walks together, you eat together, everyone thinks you look cute together. Blah blah blah..."

And he's basically like, "and what? A dog and his owner could do that. But us? That's the real shit, baby." Sorry, this got long xx

That Shit Has Nothing On Us

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

When Zach got hit by the car, the only person he could remember was Y/N. Even though they were best friends and attached by the hip before the accident, he, now, clings to her like Winnie the Pooh to a honey pot and not in the same way he did before he got hit. He becomes more affectionate and touchy. He always wants to have skin-to-skin contact with her in some way. He always wants to be around her. She’s tried to tell him that he has Zoey Wallace. That she is his girlfriend, he just doesn’t care. Sure, she has had a crush on them since they were five, but she knows he is Zoey’s and she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his relationship.

They are watching the Scream franchise and he knows they don’t scare her, yet he insists on wrapping his arm around her. “I don’t know why you wanted to have a marathon. They aren’t scary and are so predictable,” she complains, groaning at the not-surprising death of another character. Zach shrugs, “Come on. Don’t tell me you aren’t a little scared.” His arm brings her closer to his side. “Zach, they literally do the oh no the killer isn’t actually killed bit in every movie,” she points out. He grins at her, “Well, if you don’t want to watch the movies, then we can always make out.” “You have a girlfriend, Zach. You guys used to be so in love. You would go on walks to practice together. Kick the ball around. Eat with each other,” she argues, moving out of his hold. He gets up and looks into her eyes, “Everything I’ve done and talked about with her is all surface-level shit. It’s like I’m a dog and she’s my owner. But us? That’s the real shit, Baby. Everything I remember about us has always been so much deeper than anything I have with her.” “You can’t compare the present with the past. You just don’t know the deeper stuff you’ve had with her,” Y/N disagrees with a shake of her head.

“I’m comparing the present with the present Y/N. She’s always on the move with life and stuff and never takes the time to just stop. She never lets us get to know each other again.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Zach?”

“I want you to say that you’ll let me kiss you.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Not anymore.”

Y/N freezes at his words. “W-what? What do you mean you not anymore?” He gives her a smile, “We broke up. I didn’t feel it was right to keep dating her when I’m in love with you.” “Y-you’re in love with me?” she asks with hope in her eyes. He steps closer to her, “Since we were five years old.” Her arms wrap around his neck and their lips meet in a fiery kiss. Who knew amnesia could be the start of a beautiful thing?

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction

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holllandtrash · 9 months

Text

gone | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)

I just know You're not gone You can't be gone

The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.

word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.”

Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team.

So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone.

And you both knew the answer to that one.

That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference.

“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”

“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”

The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media.

When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.

“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”

He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”

Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.

Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.

He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time.

Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well.

You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago.

“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.

The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.

Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”

You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”

You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.

“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”

You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”

You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.

“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”

“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.

“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.

“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction.

For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.

But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.

You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you.

“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”

“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.

But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you.

It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.

You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.

Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.

Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at.

You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.

“And Y/N, onto you-”

You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.

“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”

You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”

Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”

You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.

But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.

“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.

Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”

You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.

But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”

Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”

You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up.

You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room.

Unfortunately, so did Daniel.

He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”

Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”

Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”

You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”

It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.

The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.

What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap.

But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage.

“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”

Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2.

You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.

Serves him right, you thought.

God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind.

Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.

Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening.

Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him.

“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time.

“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”

“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”

“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”

You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it.

Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart.

“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”

You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.

Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.

The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.

Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1.

Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.

Of course he didn’t, though.

Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud.

That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.

You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.

But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri.

You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades.

When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season.

Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel.

Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.

It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done.

Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel.

You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were.

Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case.

And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do.

You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.

The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.

You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire.

You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you.

Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.

“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset.

“Plan F.”

Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.

“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.

“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”

From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position.

Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight.

Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind.

You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come.

You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust.

You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors.

He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.

Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.

Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.

You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme.

You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.

The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.

There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.

It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications.

You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.

It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.

Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.

The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.

But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours.

This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.

Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?

Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to.

You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you.

That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.

Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt.

You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with.

“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.

“I need to,” you answered.

“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service.

It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.

Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you.

The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol.

He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.

Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver.

You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.

“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners.

“Get what?”

You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved.

Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.

“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought.

When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.

“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”

You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete.

You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel.

Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.

It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.

When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.

But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it.

You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.

Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap.

Why did he follow you?

This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver.

The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was.

You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.

But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case.

You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.

Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything.

“Checo’s gone after this year.”

You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”

“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”

You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024.

But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened.

And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?

You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”

“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”

The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face.

But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue.

“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out.

The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together.

Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.

You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?

“You’re not mad?” He asked.

The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.

“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible.

“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid.

“Enraged,” you said.

“Enraged,” he repeated.

“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you.

You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.

You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around.

“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”

“I want to talk.”

“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”

There it was.

“I knew you were mad.”

“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”

You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.

“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.

“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”

You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.

But he didn’t go anywhere.

And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.

“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.

“No, but I loved you.”

You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.

“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”

All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”

“We could have had both.”

Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1.

Clearly not.

“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you.

Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.

“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.

It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.

He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior.

The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024.

The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.

And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.

His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.

No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium.

You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.

Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.

People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.

You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.

Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood.

You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence.

This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.

But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.

You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.

You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.

How could the world move on if you hadn’t?

Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.

You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.

He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.

You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.

Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night.

At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone.

Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.”

Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back.

You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.

There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore.

You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.

“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”

You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.

“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”

Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”

You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”

Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you.

Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove.

That was a move you had to live with.

“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this.

“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”

We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.

Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall.

“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded.

You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.

“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”

You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.

You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore.

And you couldn’t hold onto it either.

As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.

You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.

You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.

Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship.

But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.

You had to look away.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him.

Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be in love.

And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan.

But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.

You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.

__________________

is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora

for some reason im struggling to add anyone else to the taglist, i deeply apologise. i would recommend turning on post notifs but i know its sometimes annoying, but i rly am struggling with my mentions

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

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greynatomy · 6 months

Text

what did you call me?

katrina gorry x reader

wasn’t planning of making a second part, but people have been asking and gave me some ideas for it.

part 1 part 3

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After everyone got showered and dressed, they all got back on the coach to the hotel they were staying in, minus you and Harper, taking the rental you rented.

You, Kat, Harper, Charli, and Kyra all went to your wife’s room, the rest of the team did their own thing. You got yourself comfortable on the lounge chair in the corner of the room while the others laid on the beds.

“Okay. First question. How did you guys meet?” Kyra was the first to speak.

“I went to Australia back in 2021 and almost knocked her down. She’s so tiny that I didn’t even see her.”

“Shut up. But she invited me to go with her to breakfast as an apology.”

“Ohmygod! It’s like a literal book meeting. Write a story on wattpad type of meeting. That’s so cute!”

“What’s a wattpad?”

“Okay! Second question. Charli your turn.”

“Who asked who in marriage?”

“Uh, she did.” Kat pointed to you. “It wasn’t extravagant or anything. It was a couple months after Harper was born and she made her wear a little onesie that said ‘Will you marry Mama’ on it. It was so cute.”

The questions kept being asked and Katrina answers them all. Meanwhile, you were falling asleep on the chair, the jet lag catching up to you.

Harper, getting tired herself, carefully slides herself down off the bed and waddling over to your sleeping form. Somehow finding a way to climb onto you on her own, She grabs the hem of your shirt and climbs inside, settling herself on your torso, instantly falling asleep, all while the three Matildas are still having their q&a session.

Charli was the first to notice Harper gone from the bed.

“Oh my. That is so adorable.”

Kyra and Katrina look towards the direction where Charli’s finger points, seeing you asleep with a lump under your shirt.

“I’ve got to take a picture.” Kyra pulls out her phone and snaps a photo.

“Harper loves to take naps like that. Y/N has done skin to skin with her ever since she was born and Harper loves it.”

“They’re quite the duo aren’t they?”

“Yeah. And It’s crazy how we met the day I found out I was pregnant with Harper too.”

“That’s so cute. They both came to you on the same day, and now they’re inseparable.”

In the following days, you stayed in Australia getting to know the team a lot more, getting especially close to Charli and Kyra. The team has a day off today and you really wanted to visit the Australia Zoo and invited Kyra and Charli along.

We’ve just made it to where the cheetahs are, Harper presses herself close to the glass. Kyra and Charli went off to get something to snack on and drink with Kat leaving me with Harper. Minutes later, the three come back with more than enough food and drinks giving your daughter some.

“Here you go, Mama.” Kyra is holding out a bottle of water to you, but you’re frozen. Not knowing what’s happening, she shakes the bottle in front of your face.

“What did you call me?”

“Oh. Uh.” Finally realizing what she said, Kyra stutters a bit. “It’s just you’re Harper’s mom, Harper’s my sister, and you’ve treated me like I was you kid too, like how Mini does and you’ve actually felt like another Mom to me.”

“Me too!” Charli cuts in.

“Aw, babe. Are you crying?”

“No, I have allergies.” You turn away, wiping you eyes.

“Family group hug!”

Your family of three just turned into a family of five and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #katrina gorry x reader #katrina gorry

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sinofwriting · 8 months

Text

Wine - Oscar Piastri (lover verse)

Words: 977 Summary: Oscar (and Apples) go on the screaming meals podcast after everyone finds out about their marriage. Note(s): This part of the lover verse and I recommend you read the first part before this one so it makes sense. Read lover here

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | lover verse

“We have an Aussie on the pod today.” James says. “Indeed we do. The wonder boy himself, Oscar Piastri!” Clement continues and the three guys clap while Oscar looks behind the camera where his wife is feeling a little awkward. “Thank you for coming, Oscar. Was a bit of bitch to get you on though.” Oscar chuckles, nodding. “Just a bit. I’m glad I could make it though. I’ve been watching since the first episode.” “That’s right.” Marcus says. “I remember you texting me about it.”

“Ladies, Gentleman, you may notice we have five glasses on the table in front of us. And that is because Oscar’s wife is here as well.” “Hello!” She greets from behind the camera, sending a smile James’ way. She and the insurance broker had spent a fair amount of time together when Oscar was in F2. “She also brought the wine for today.” Clem chimes in, picking the bottle up. “Really, Apples is just trying to prove that she is the best guest to have.” He lets out a laugh seeing the label. “Ah, a bit of DR3 wine. I haven’t actually had this yet. Is it good?” He turns his head a bit to ask her, knowing that between her and Oscar she’s the one who likes wine more. She nods. “My mom loves it as well and you know her, bit of a wine snob. I also brought another one though if we get through that one a bit too quickly.” Clem makes a small noise, hand coming over his heart and he looks back at Oscar. “Mate, I might have to steal your wife.” Oscar shakes his head at the Frenchman but chuckles. He hadn’t expected the friendship between her and Clem, but it had started from their shared interest in wine and had only grown.

“Do you mind if we actually talk about you, Apples?” James asks, as Marcus takes the wine from Clem to open it. Easily passing the cork over to Clem to smell. “Not at all.” She says, reaching somewhat into frame to take the glass of wine from Marcus, giving him a quick squeeze to the hand in silent thanks after.

“So the Australian Grand Prix.” Marcus starts, handing the next glass over to Oscar, who immediately groans at the words. “I mean, what a home race.” The younger man makes a face, shifting in place as he clutches the glass of wine. “It was something.” He allows. “It was a clusterfuck, mate.” James chuckles, taking the next glass of wine from Marcus. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean truly.” Marcus says, passing Clem a glass who gives a silent cheer to him, before finally pouring himself a glass. “I mean, the media ran fucking wild and it was nuts.” “I was there with Clem for the F2 race and oh yeah, the media was something.” “I mean,” Oscar huffs, running a hand over his face. It had been months but still he was bothered over this. “It wasn’t like a secret y’know? Everyone in F3 and F2 knew about it. I mean obviously.” He waves a hand at three guys. “So I’m just amazed at the press and social media just not knowing it.” Clem wags a finger at the camera. “And you call yourself a journalist. Couldn’t even do basic research.” “Seriously.” Oscar says, and Marcus can’t help but laugh at how bothered Oscar is. It was a change from the usual unflappable or unbothered way he was.

“I also found out from Mrs. Piastri herself that the drivers didn’t know?” James asks. “They didn’t.” She confirms. “Well, Logan obviously did.” Marcus says, remembering how Logan had taken a weird older brother role to the Aussie couple. “But the rest didn’t? Not even Ocon? Or Alonso?” Oscar looks over at her, raising an eyebrow and she gives a shrug. “Ocon didn’t, Alonso, I mean maybe? He congratulated me after the news broke when he saw me next, but I mean it’s Alonso, who ever knows with him.” “Fair point.” James chuckles, lifting his glass a bit.

Apples watches from behind the camera for the rest of the podcast, only coming into frame once more for a refill on her glass of wine. Though she occasionally says something, fake chiding one of the boys or urging Oscar to open up a bit more, her husband still a bit too aware of the camera on him. Makes her wish she had taken that shot that Clem offered her before they started rolling, knowing that Oscar would have also had one if she had.

When they finish up, Oscar goes to move, switch to the other couch so Clem and James can sit with Marcus to film yeah g’day mate, but Marcus stills him and waves her over. She raises an eyebrow aware of the still rolling cameras but she goes over, easily sitting on the arm of the couch that Oscar is pressed against. As soon as she sits the other two are also piling onto the couch, Clem diving in between Oscar and Marcus, elbowing the Kiwi as James tries to grab the back of the French’s shirt, just barely managing to pull him up off the couch.

“Sit on the arm mate. You’re tiny enough. And budge over, Marcus.” “Why do I have to move?” Marcus asks, but slides over, knocking his and Oscar’s elbows together. “Because you're small enough to be in the middle. It’ll look weird with me.”

As the three start to bicker, Oscar leans his head against her and she runs her fingers through his hair, smiling down at him as he tilts his head backwards to look up at her. “You alright, Os?” She murmurs, Marcus’ squawk of protest surely prevents the mic from picking up her question. He nods, flashing her a smile.

@cixrosie @gemofthenight @copper-boom @boiohboii @iloveyou3000morgan @Benstormy @peachiicherries @topguncultleader @lpab

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #lover verse

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mvltisstuff · 10 months

Text

dress - c.f

summary: conrad overhears y/n craving touch in her life, so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: guys!! s2!!! don’t hate me, BUT i’m not enjoying it as much as i did s1… i will say steven is getting a lot better this season!! i got messaged to write this, so it is a request <3

“it’s just different, taylor,” y/n sighs. “it’s the complete opposite of sex, that’s what everyone wants. i just wish i was more than that.”

conrad peeps through her slightly ajar bedroom door. she’s on the phone with a friend, laying on her stomach in bed. his heart aches at her words.

y/n’s been with a few guys, hooking up at parties but they never want anything else. she barely gets eye contact or a smile after, just letting them walk away. she’s not used to receiving physical affection. she spends the long nights pretending someone is laying next to her, pretending conrad is next to her. she holds her own hands, she runs them down her own body to deal with the starvation. she only wants someone to love on her for who she is, not just for her body. it’s gotten to a point where she doesn’t know how to react when people respond kindly. when someone pats her shoulder, when someone gives her a meaningless hug. she takes those things very literally and to heart. she doesn’t ask for it blatantly anymore. she silently begs for anyone to just hold her hand or wrap their arm around her shoulders.

she and conrad have been best friends for years. they always spent summers together and never kept secrets from one another. they’d sneak out to smoke or go to parties, but sometimes they’d just sit in the house and talk.

it’s honestly painful for conrad to sit around and act like he wants her as a friend. he hates every waking moment that he hasn’t just completely spilled his love for her. what’s even worse, is that she wants it more. the only thing keeping them apart is each other. when conrad hears her upset voice from the room, he just wants to run in and hold her in his arms. his own fears, however, stop him. he figures he’ll have to wait, ease into it. plus, he figures, no harm in a little bit of teasing.

later that day, everyone had been outside and conrad, jeremiah, steven, belly, and y/n were in the pool as the moms watched. they decided to play a game off the top of their heads, y/n and conrad single-handedly destroying the other team. when she swam back over to him, she was about to give him a high five and savor the millisecond of contact they made.

when conrad’s hand enclosed on hers, leaving his grasp in her hands, her heart paused. she thought she was dreaming, the boy she loved actually holding her hand. it wasn’t just the slap of their hands, it was his fingers folded over hers which made someone hold a lighter over y/n’s heart. she tried to contain to beam that was about to reveal from her face.

conrad could almost feel y/n’s happiness through her hand. he thought it was adorable how excited she got over him, and he was thrilled that she had a bit of light added to her feelings.

conrad, being the cunning boy he is, decided to take a step further into y/n’s delusions. at the beach, he noticed that y/n didn’t apply any sunscreen to her back. he didn’t want her to burn, but it was the perfect chance to make her go crazy over him touching her body.

“are you gonna put any on your back, y/n?” he asks.

“oh-“ y/n whispers, her face turning red and she can’t tell if it’s from the sun or embarrassment.

“c’mere,” he smirks, almost like a magnet causing y/n to step over to him. he pointed for her to crouch down, so she moved her hair out of the way and conrad rubbed the sunscreen into her soft skin. y/n swore she was floating, or looked like she had a stick up her ass. her heart was thumping in her chest at the feeling of his fingers running down her spine, dodging the thin string of the halter bikini top she had on.

when she looked over at belly, she had a thin grin on her face in a mocking way. y/n shot her a death stare, and belly shuffled away into the water.

“y/n,” conrad speaks, putting the bottle down on the sand.

“yeah?” she flicks out of the zone she was in. “oh, sorry.”

“don’t be,” he says, not breaking eye contact with her. the moment her name was uttered from his lips, it felt like the world stopped turning.

“thanks, connie,” y/n smiles, brushing her hair back and running out to belly in the water.

conrad watches her figure run off as he takes in the heat of the sun, while also admiring y/n from afar. someone that ravishing deserved to be loved, and conrad knows he can.

the next time they end up alone together is in y/n’s car, windows rolled down and the speakers blaring music. they’re both singing gleefully along, conrad looking over at y/n to gander at her beauty whilst she drives. when she rolls the car to a stop, he and y/n giggle at her messed up hair. conrad decides to take a leap of faith, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear and out of her face.

“there’s that pretty face,” the moment he mumbles those words over the music, y/n can’t control herself anymore. the sparks from her love for him are like fireworks now, and they could explode any minute. his hand has been away from her for 10 seconds, and she’s already grieving his touch. she looks up at his face, a calm, relaxed demeanor filling the car. his hair still managed to look perfect despite the wind. suddenly, a breeze comes over y/n and she sits back in the seat releasing an awkward chuckle. “hey, don’t get all shy.”

she looks back into his eyes, more radiant than the sunset around the parking lot. the lack of cars makes it feel as though they are the only people on earth, and she wishes it could stay that way forever. conrad is her safe space. she’s gotten so close to having him right where she wants him, and she won’t let herself run away again. when she allows his hand to make its way back up to her cheek, she shuffles in the driver’s seat and moves closer to him. his touch is so light, barely coming into contact with y/n. she wants more. she needs more.

she leans in, finally connecting their lips as the dam breaks. everything in her body feels like it’s on top of the world, at last being able to take in the intimacy. his hands are wandering down her arms without breaking the contact between them. his soft lips were the only thing she could focus on besides her catching breaths.

the taste on her lips was sweet, making conrad want to just indulge in her more. the magic aroma of her perfume flooded her nose, just giving him more reminders of her as they made out in her car. the pair could only hear the passionate breaths between them and the screaming thoughts inside their head.

every single part of y/n was satisfying all moments of their kiss. the way their noses brushed together as she tilted her head, the feeling of his jaw in her hand, how his tongue danced with her delicately.

conrad couldn’t stop his hands from migrating to her waist, landing them on her hips and leaning over the gearshift. his large hands land on the back of her thighs as she swings over, straddling his groin as she dives in for another kiss. he guides her hips to roll back and forth, making them both whine out a bit at the tension.

“conrad-“

“god, i feel so fucking bad for any of the guys you’ve been with that haven’t cherished you the way you deserve,” his raspy voice comes through to her ears, pecking at her neck and grabbing the seams of her shirt.

“please don’t stop,” she begs as his hands run down her thighs and waist.

“that’s the last thing i’m gonna do, angel.”

he yanks off her shirt, letting her do the same to him. she runs her hands down his chest, feeling her nails and soft fingertips down his torso. it’s one of the best feelings he’s ever had, his biggest crush for years touching him exactly how he wants. he looks out in the parking lot, seeing no one and praising whoever invented tinted windows.

y/n sits up, unbuttoning her jean shorts and dragging them down her legs. she starts to undo conrad’s as well, pulling them down far enough to just reveal his boxers. she grinds her clothed pussy on his dick, causing a light groan to escape conrad’s lips. “oh fuck, y/n.”

“you’ve had your fun teasing me this past week,” she mocks, starting to dip her fingers into his waistline. “but i’ll be nice tonight.”

conrad’s hand sinks down, pulling her thin underwear to the side and running his fingers down her slit, collecting her arousal and teasing her clit. she moans out as approval for him as she pulls his dick out of his boxers. the feeling of ecstasy near her cunt runs through her whole body, only making her more excited for him.

she gives his dick a few pumps, making conrad hiss and moan out deeply into the air. she lifts her body up before lining her entrance with his tip, sinking down onto him, she takes his entire length.

“holy fuck,” conrad exhales, taking in the pleasure of her wrapped around his dick. she bounces up and down, her hand gripping his arm and protruding muscles. she pants heavily at the action, him eventually thrusting up into her.

“fuck, fuck, conrad!” she moans loudly, causing a smirk to grow on conrad’s lips. she feels his hands all over her. running down her back, her ass, coming back up to rub over her covered nipples. she takes in every last touch before he moves his fingers down, circling around her clit making her legs shake above him. her mouth is dangled open, her eyes and nose scrunched in pleasure. and it’s all from him. he’s finally made her feel as good as he’s always wanted to.

when conrad starts hitting the perfect spots inside of her, the tightness in her stomach returns and stays familiarly. “conrad, i’m gonna cum,”

“i know,” he breathes. “me too.”

he meets his hips with hers a few more times before pulling himself out of her and releasing all over her stomach and thighs. her legs are twitching still, coming down from her orgasm. she’s lightly grinding against his thigh, letting herself ride out the high.

y/n leans against conrad’s chest, his hands returning to her lower back once again and rubbing small circles on her skin. he never knew the touch of someone could be so comforting, especially when he knew how much she needed it.

“you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever known,” he whispers into her ear.

“thank you, conrad,” she smiles. “for everything.”

“don’t thank me,” he replies. “baby, you’ll always be enough for me.”

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jaeyunverse · 8 months

Text

cat boy

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

wc: 1882

genres: some fluff, mostly crack, enemies to lovers, neighbours au

warnings: profanity

summary: yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwon’s cat plays cupid and sets you up.

note: this is extremely unserious!!!! i only wrote it for funsies but i enjoyed the process a lot :) i hope the fic manages to bring a smile on your face hehe

masterlist

There was an angry-looking Yang Jungwon standing at your door.

You didn’t know why he was so pissed. You just knew you didn’t care.

“Your incessant knocking woke me up,” you replied dryly and leaned against the door frame, arms crossing over your chest. “You better have a good reason for ruining my sleep.”

“It’s five in the evening.”

“What’s your point?”

Jungwon’s jaw clenched, and the corner of your lip curled up a smirk. Provoking him was always so satisfying. Always so easy and entertaining.

It was crazy how he was the sweetest person with everyone else but the moment you opened your mouth, he glared at you and looked like he was plotting your death. The discrimination and harsh treatment you’d received from the boy upon moving into your apartment had hurt at first, but you’d soon learnt to take it with a grain of salt.

You’d learnt that it was way more fun to push his buttons and see just how far you needed to take things for him to reach his breaking point.

“Just shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Jungwon snapped, pointing an accusing finger at you. “I need you to stop playing with my cat. Do not touch her. Do not call her name. Do not do the weird fucking meowing thing you do where she meows back at you and you have those god awful meowing conversations. Do not—”

“Oh, yeah,” you interrupted and pretended to deeply think about something. “I think it was just yesterday that Cleo told me you were popping a vein over her liking me more than you. I must say, Yang, you have reached a level of pathetic I didn’t even know existed. Yelling at your neighbour because you don’t get validation from your cat? Tsk.”

Embarrassment and anger coloured the entirety of Jungwon’s face a deep red. “You don’t get it!” he exclaimed. “Cleo keeps clawing at the front door! She doesn’t even want to stay with me anymore. She stares at me with so much resentment because I don’t let her play with you all the time!”

“I’m confused,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing. “Why don’t you let her play with me if that’s why she hates you? Your problem has a very simple solution—”

“But she’s my cat!” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He stepped closer to you, desperation evident on his features. “I don’t care if she plays with you, but the more she does, the more she realises that she’d rather have you take care of her.”

“Well,” you sputtered, a little taken aback by how much his cat’s preferences had distraught him. “If it’s any consolation to you, I don’t have the time or resources to look after Cleo, so she has no choice but to stay with you.”

“I don’t know how to make her love me again,” Jungwon mumbled to himself, not having heard you at all. “I know cats aren’t very loyal, but I didn’t think Cleo would dump me after everything we’ve gone through. I pay the landlord more money so she can keep staying with me without having to hide from anyone. I fought—”

“Yang!” you yelled and grabbed his shoulders. He snapped out of his reverie and looked at you in despair. You’d never thought you would feel bad for him, but you found yourself offering, “Do you want me to show you how I play with her? I don’t know why she prefers me over you, but maybe I’m doing something you aren’t. Maybe you’ll know what it is if we play with her together.”

Jungwon nodded eagerly. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Now?” you asked incredulously. “I have to meet a friend for dinner.”

“Please,” he begged, and you didn’t think you’d ever heard him sound so hopeless before. “Just for ten minutes.”

You hesitated a bit for a moment, but then reluctantly agreed. “Ten minutes.”

Jungwon watched in awe as you interacted with Cleo. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his ginger Ragamuffin so excited.

“Hey, Cleo,” you cooed, cupping her face in your hands. “How are you doing? How’s the most precious girl in the world doing?”

Cleo purred and leaned into your touch. Smiling, you caressed her cheeks and kissed her nose.

Gathering her in your arms, you stood up. The cat rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes.

“I really don’t see Cleo hating anyone,” you said to Jungwon, a small frown settling on your features. “I mean, look at her.”

He sighed and padded towards you, stopping only when he was right beside. His arm brushed against yours. “I don’t get it either.”

And then, as if to prove to you that he wasn’t lying about his cat having something against him, Jungwon lightly petted her.

Cleo’s eyes snapped open and her nails popped out. She pawed at him and he withdrew his hand immediately.

“Oh.”

“I don’t understand why she’s acting this way,” he lamented. “She was good to me until you came along!”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Are you seriously saying this is my fault? Did you even consider the possibility of you being a horrible owner?”

“You did not just say that!” Jungwon looked extremely offended, but you didn’t give a shit. You couldn’t believe he was blaming you for his problems.

“I don’t even need to say anything,” you sneered. “Cleo running away from you to me speaks volumes.”

You saw your neighbour’s jaw clench. His hands curled into fists at his side, and you wondered if you’d gone too far. You know he loved his cat; insinuating that he wasn’t taking good care of her probably hurt.

Besides, you knew it wasn’t true. Jungwon was a huge animal enthusiast. He’d looked after a turtle when he was five and had decided then and there that a career surrounded by animals was what he wanted. He was studying to be a veterinary doctor now.

Before you could open your mouth to apologise, he muttered, “I should have known this was a bad idea.”

Your blood boiled once again. “You really do have a knack for being the most ungrateful asshole anyone could ever come across, Yang.”

In your arms, Cleo meowed and lifted her head from your shoulder, staring daggers at her owner.

“Ungrateful?” Jungwon snorted in disbelief, not noticing the glares the Ragamuffin was sending his way. “You haven’t done anything since you came here! I don’t have shit to be grateful for.”

Cleo growled, and the boy finally acknowledged her anger.

You pointed a finger at Jungwon and fumed, “I take back what I said before. I do see Cleo hating you. You’re a little bitch who—”

“Oh, spare me.” He cut you off with a roll of his eyes, but you paid him no heed and continued,

“Maybe she’d like you better if you liked me better!”

The cat meowed again. The message was very clear. She agreed.

“I do like you...” Jungwon said defensively, but it was a pathetic attempt that convinced no one. Especially not Cleo.

“Yeah, sure.” You let out a humourless laugh. “You’ve obviously been a jerk to me from the very start because you think you’re the unapproachable, dark-haired, broody lead and I’m the sunshine who is supposed to make you open up.”

He gave you a sour look. “You’re not the sunshine.”

“And you’re not the main character you think you are. I’m not going to put up with your attitude anymore. Just stop being a dick and tell me what you have against me.”

Jungwon hesitated for a moment. You watched as he contemplated whether or not to tell you the real reason behind his grudge, and with each passing second, you slowly started to get a good idea of why.

You knew it was going to be something stupid.

He proved you right.

“I was trying to rent the apartment you’re living in. It has a better view and is way bigger. I live with a cat and you live alone—I thought it was unfair that the landlord chose someone who doesn’t even need the space.”

You were speechless for a while. You took your sweet time to wrap your head around the fact that Yang Jungwon was one petty son of a bitch.

“That’s it?” you finally asked. “You hate me because I snagged the apartment you wanted fair and square?”

He didn’t confirm. He didn’t need to.

You exclaimed, “Grow the hell up, Yang! So what if I got it? It’s been six months; move on!”

“You don’t need it as much as I do!” he protested.

“You don’t know that!” you said angrily. “You don’t know me! You never tried to.”

Jungwon opened his mouth to retort, but he didn’t really know what to say. He knew he was the one at fault. Maybe he should have apologised.

Too bad his stubbornness wouldn’t let him go down without a fight.

“It’s not like you ever tried to get to know me either,” Jungwon muttered.

“I brought you home-baked cookies the day I moved in. You said you didn’t want them and shut the door in my face. I invited you to my house-warming party too, but neither did you reply to my email nor show up. You really think I didn’t try to get to know you? To be friends with you?”

Your voice was laced with bitterness, but there were traces of genuine sorrow in it as well. The fire in your eyes from your bickering had winked out and you looked tired.

The boy found his resolve crumbling. Shame and guilt began to build claw at him from the inside. Maybe he had been unnecessarily harsh.

“I—uh..” Jungwon tried, “I’m sorry.”

You raised your eyebrows. “For being so rude to you, I mean, ” he added hastily. “You didn’t deserve it.”

The apology could have been way better but you weren’t going to complain. “Okay.”

Setting Cleo on the floor again, you moved towards the front door of his apartment. “I’ll get going.”

However, before you could turn the knob, Jungwon blurted, “Are—are you free now? Maybe we can hang out and get to know each other?”

“Oh.” You were dumbfounded. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this was not it. “I have to meet a friend tonight. I told you.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears a deep red. “Right,” he squeaked after clearing his throat. “Forget I asked.”

“Well—” you started after a beat of awkward silence— “I won’t be out for that long. Do you wanna come over to watch a movie later?”

“I have to get up early tomorrow.”

You decided that this was clearly not working out—but it wasn’t that bad. So what if Jungwon and you couldn’t hang out? You were on good terms now. That was an immense improvement in your relationship already.

Your neighbour, however, didn’t seem to be in the mood to cut his losses and move on. He tried again, “The weekend?”

You paused. Racked your brain to make sure you didn’t have any other commitments. “The weekend.”

“It’s a date.”

Strangely, you didn’t correct Jungwon. He didn’t take his words back either.

Cleo’s tail swayed in silent approval.

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