summary... a reunion between old lovers after five years and charles can't keep his eyes off of you. or his thoughts for that matter. faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far. petty charles.
note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone
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part 2 → next part
charles is a mess. truthfully this is to be expected but after five years, he thought he would be better than this but alas, you’re still as magnetic as he remembered you to be – even more so, if he’s being completely honest with himself.
you look different – older. where they used to be rounded, baby face is all sharp bones. your hair looks different, longer and styled. and you smell different too, no longer the floral scent you’ve been using since you turned fourteen.
you’re a stranger, he thought. he no longer knows your favorite color or your favorite meal or if you still like strawberry yogurt. he doesn’t know your favorite show or what perfume you use. he doesn’t know you. you’re a stranger and yet your eyes still do that thing where it creases to the point of being close when you smile and you still run your hand over your hair in an attempt to subtly fix it and your eyes still looks like pooled honey when the sun shines on it.
you’re so different, a practical stranger and yet so familiar, like going back to a childhood home finding everything in the wrong place yet still knowing your way around with your eyes closed.
he’s staring. he knew he is and he knew the amount of trouble he’d get from his team for it. he knew that everyone on twitter was probably already freaking out about it. he had clear instructions to act like nothing had happened and that the leaked pictures didn’t exist all. he’s supposed to act like you’re just another interviewer and this is just another media obligation he’s forced to do and you’re no one to him but he can’t help it. he can’t pretend like you’re a stranger when you left such a big imprint in his soul and he doesn’t have every freckle and skin tag and every inch of your skin memorized.
and so he stares. he stares at the way you shift in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable. he stares at the way the long sleeved white dress hugged your curves. he stares at the way you smile, the way you laugh. he stares and tries to remind his heart the way you’d left, the way he’d begged you stay. with you a few feet in front of him, closer than you’ve ever been in years, charles reminds himself the things he had to do to put himself back together after you broke him.
he tells himself that he hates you the same way he has been telling himself for five years now. he hates you and the way you walked away from him so easily. he hates you and the way you moved on so quickly. he hates you now for the way you’re not even affected. he hates you for loving him only to leave him.
“and that’s all for today, everyone,” you say with that dazzling smile that makes him dizzy. he needs to get away from you. you’re clouding his judgment and messing with his emotions.
after making sure the camera has stopped rolling, charles quickly removes the mic attached to him. the smile drops from your face as you see him so desperately hurried to get away from you. though you supposed you deserved that.
“mate, you good?” carlos asked him quietly as charles practically slams the mic on the table. he seems worried and charles hadn’t even realized how angry he looks right now. he glanced at you, watching as you discussed with the producer, the wind blowing at your hair and the careless smile on your face. he hates you but you’re also the most beautiful person he’s ever met. he hates you and he’s so fucking tired of wanting you.
he forced a smile on his face for carlos’ sake. “fine.”
he’s already walking away when you called his name, not like you had in the show – filled with fake friendliness. this time, his name rolled off your tongue effortlessly. you called his name like you had a thousand times before, like nothing has ever changed. the entire set was calling to him but he didn’t seem to hear.
“charles,” you called and immediately, he stopped in his tracks. he only heard your call and somehow that made him angrier at himself than he ever could be at you.
his face is empty and void of any emotions as he turns to you and you swallow down the lump in your throat as you force a smile at him. you hoped it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “we need to take a picture. for social media.”
he may as well have spat at you with the look in his eyes. it made you feel small. he makes you feel small and suddenly you’re eighteen again, so small and insignificant next to him.
as you and the two ferrari drivers posed for the photo, both charles and carlos respectfully wrapped an arm around you. you can feel the heat of charles’ body next to you, seeping right through your dress and spreading across your skin. his cologne is different – more rich and expensive but somehow still so him but his aftershave is the same as it has been since he was fifteen, so familiar and comforting to you and you almost can’t help but lean into him.
he’s pulling away before you can gather your thoughts, already walking away from you.
—
charles should be celebrating. he finished on the podium which is pretty much a miracle nowadays. in fact, it’s a miracle to even be finishing the race with how his season is going but he’s been pretty distracted the whole weekend, seemingly only ever able to get you out of his head whenever he’s going two hundred miles per hour. he almost wants to laugh if he doesn't feel so pathetic. it’s somehow still exactly like before - with him needing to find some ways to risk his life just to be able to get you out of his mind.
drinking the night away as he wallowed in self pity due to the thought of you is also entirely too familiar.
“mon pote, comment peux-tu encore la laisser te faire ça ?” hugo asked, watching him. “cela fait des années” mate, how are you still letting her do this to you?... it’s been years.
charles only gave a sarcastic smile. he doesn’t entirely know the answer to do that either. apparently the years between the two of you didn’t matter because you still have the exact same reaction to him. you make him lose his fucking mind, unable to to think straight. he does things he says he never will when it comes to you. he becomes desperate and weak and unable to handle his own emotions. he doesn’t understand himself when you’re around.
maybe that’s why you left in the first place. the two of you affected each other far too much. it’s entirely too easy to get lost in each other and forget about everything else.
“elle a l'air différente. elle a aussi une odeur différente,” he says before taking another shot. you’re so different and he hated it. he hates that there are things in your life he doesn’t know anymore. he hates the fact that you changed your perfume and that you can so easily pretend like he’s no one to you. if you can act like he’s no one to you so easily then perhaps he didn’t mean as much to you as he thought he did. she looks different. she smells different too.
you were his lifeline, the air in his lungs. you were everything and he would have given up anything just to keep you. he would have given up racing and his dreams – everything so he didn’t have to lose you.
joris rolls his eyes. he knows this entirely too well unfortunately, he’s seen this exact scene before. “cela fait cinq ans, charles. bien sûr qu'elle a changé.” it's been five years, charles. of course she's changed.
that only makes him laugh bitterly.
—
on the other side of the city lies you, cocooned in your fleece blanket as you stare at the wall.
throughout the years that you and charles have bumped into each other, it had mostly been just surprise in his eyes – as though he could never quite believe that you’re in front of him. usually, you’ll be gone before it can change.
today was different. there’s no surprise in his eyes nor was there any of the familiar warmth you’re so used to. today, he was filled with anger and indifference. he looked at you as though he hated you. and the worst part is that he probably does. the entire time it was as though he couldn’t get away from you fast enough, like he couldn’t stand even being in the same room as you. your entire life, charles has only ever looked at you with adoring and devoted eyes and now he can’t even stand to look at you.
“il ne vous déteste pas,” arthur says over the phone with a roll of his eyes as though you’re being ridiculous for even suggesting such things. he doesn’t hate you.
but arthur wasn’t there. arthur didn’t see how charles practically ran away from you. still, you say nothing to the matter, far too upset to even bother trying to defend yourself.
“i’m going to go to sleep, art,” you say softly instead. “it’s pretty late here.”
you and arthur say your goodnights before you shut off the call. but just as you’re about to place your phone down for the tonight, it lights up with a text message. your eyebrows knit together in confusion. who’d be texting you this late anyways?
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25 posts!
“My child is fine”
Your child has an obsession with multiple people and they’re not even real.
Summary: When Lando forgets the date of your anniversary, you can get over it. However, the pressure of his job isn’t a good enough reason to excuse all of his forgetful tendencies and lack of attention for you.
Lando Norris x fem!Reader, established relationship
WC: 4.8K
Warnings: cursing, angsty, sad fic with happy ending
Masterlist
The soft morning sunlight peeks through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft rosy glow over the room. You take a deep breath, a gentle smile settling on your face at the realisation that it’s already been a year – a year of being loved, of sharing every thought and story, of new experiences and memories... One year of being married to the love of your life. It’s hard to believe.
You turn on your side to face your husband, propping your head on your palm as you watch him sleep peacefully. Your hand is softly stroking his chest while you smile with adoration. “Good morning, baby,” you say when you notice the change in his breathing.
Lando merely grumbles, not quite awake yet. Nevertheless, he pulls you closer to his side, letting you cuddle up against his warm body. Pressing your face against his chest, you leave a few kisses along the bare skin.
Lando sighs, stretching out his body. “Good morning, darling,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You smile excitedly, sitting up to look at the handsome man you get to call your husband.
“Do you know what day it is?” You whisper.
Lando frowns as he wipes his tired eyes, “What day?”
The confusion is evident in his voice. Regardless, you nod excitedly. Your smile falters as you watch the wheels turning in his head, gathering that he doesn’t remember. You move to the bedside table, rumbling through the drawer until you find what you’re searching for.
The expression on Lando’s face changes from confusion to guilt when you proudly show the present you’ve wrapped up so neatly, the realisation settling in. “Fuck. It’s our anniversary today, isn’t it?”
You nod, “I got you a little something, to celebrate,” you clarify. The smile on your face is gentle, comforting, and it nearly makes Lando believe you don’t care that he forgot.
“Oh, baby, I’m really sorry. I can’t believe I forgot our anniversary. God, that’s bad, isn’t it? The first year, and I’ve already screwed it up. I’m so sorry, love. Fuck.” Lando rubs a hand over his face, his expression pained.
“It’s okay, Lan. I know you’ve been busy,” you reassure him, “besides, it’s only the first year, we’ll have many more anniversaries.” You offer your gift again. “Just open the present, please? I want to know what you think of it!” You say enthusiastically.
Lando’s not fully convinced yet, “But I haven’t got anything for you,” he protests.
“Doesn’t matter, I already got this for you. Open, please!”
Lando sighs, but doesn’t resist further. However, the guilt of his forgetfulness settles deeper when he opens the carefully wrapped gift. You had taken the time and effort to make something, rather than buy a present, and he couldn’t even bother to remember your first wedding anniversary. He felt like an asshole.
At his silence, you felt the need to explain, “It’s a jar of notes,” you take the jar from his hands and open it. “It’s got different things: my favourite memories of us, things I love about you, what reminds me of you, just whatever I could think of. Then, when you’re gone for work, you can pull one out whenever you miss me,” you demonstrate, grabbing a note from the full jar, “or you could just call me, or whatever.” You put the piece of paper back, close the jar, and look up to your husband.
“Do you like it?”
Lando smiles lovingly, “I love it! Thank you, baby. I love you,” he says before kissing you softly.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t get you anything. I swear I’ll make it up to you. In fact, I’ll make a reservation for tonight right now, we can go out to dinner together to celebrate, and if you want we can go shopping today too, I’ll buy you anything you want—”
You cut him off with a laugh. “That’s not necessary, Lan. I know you love me. Besides, I’d much prefer to spend today at home with you, while you’re still here,” you say, stroking his face fondly before you pull him in for a kiss.
Regardless of your objections, Lando still manages to make a reservation for tonight at your favourite restaurant. He doesn’t make a single comment when you order the salmon despite his dislike for fish, and for weeks after he anticipates every single need you might have before you can utter even a syllable. He brings you the snacks he knows you love most on his way home, makes homecooked meals for you (however bad at cooking he is – he switched to take away after the first two times), and watches your favourite shows with you even though he hates them. He does anything and everything he can think of to make you feel loved and appreciated.
Unfortunately, his efforts only lasted a few weeks. Now, you knew what you were getting into when you married Lando last year. You had been in a relationship with him for several years before the wedding, so you are well aware of the time he needs to put into his work, even outside of office hours, not to mention the amount of stress and anxiety that come with racing at such a high level. That’s why it doesn’t bother you that much that your husband forgot about your anniversary; you know the pressure he’s under.
However, lately, his work has become even more time-consuming, more stressful and he’s become less attentive. It’s no surprise with how well the last races have been going – Lando’s finishing on the podium every weekend – that pressures have increased. He’s no longer fighting for only the constructor’s championship, but he has an actual chance at the driver’s championship too. The team is excited, and working hard, and the same is expected of Lando. Additionally, the fans have been putting more pressure. You know how much Lando’s affected by the stress of it all; he doesn’t want to disappoint, and now that the car’s performing, the only factor that could cause a loss, is him. The pressure, stress, and anxiety are taking over his body. He’s becoming more forgetful and instead of spending his free time with you, his wife, he’s thinking about the next race’s strategy, working out to improve his performance, or practising the tracks. Formula 1 had taken over the number one spot in his life.
You get where he’s coming from, you really do, but one of the most important things, if not the most important thing, in a relationship is communication and recently, Lando wasn’t communicating with you. He doesn’t tell you about the pressure or anxiety, all you know is from reading the man. After the number of years you’d spent together, you know him well enough to be aware of his struggles without him having to tell you.
You’d address the issue, ask him to talk to you, but you don’t when. Lando’s gone so much that you barely see him. His early mornings and early nights don’t align with your schedule; Lando’s gone before you’re properly up and has already eaten when you get home from work. The both of you have always been busy before, but at least you’d always eat together, and talk about your day. Now that those moments are missing, you feel lonely.
Lando has no clue of the things running through your mind. After all, you never told him. Even during the summer break, you keep quiet about your feelings, not wanting it to affect Lando’s performance during the races when you know how hard he's working to do well. Besides, it does get better during the break; Lando’s home more often and his mind's not as occupied with thoughts about his work. Nevertheless, he’s gone most of the time. You had expected for Lando to spend his time off with you, but instead, he hangs out with his friends.
Although the break has positively affected his behaviour, Lando's forgetfulness remains the same. You had told him about your friend’s birthday party several times during the past weeks, asking him to come along. When he promised you would, you thought things were finally going back to normal. But now, as you are waiting for your husband to come home so you can leave for the party together, you realise nothing has changed.
It’s already quarter past eight. Fifteen minutes later than you had said you would leave. You are ready to go – makeup glowing, favourite dress on, present wrapped and purse checked – when you decide you won’t wait any longer. You had given Lando plenty of chances to show his care for you and to consider you in his plans. You always visited his friends with him when he wanted you to, and he couldn’t show up for one party you asked him to come to? You leave the house, no messages sent and your phone on do-not-disturb: let him worry.
You plaster a fake smile on your face when you arrive to your friend’s house, pulling her into a hug when she opens the door.
“Hey, girl! Happy birthday!” You say in a high-pitched voice. “I can’t believe you’re finally 25!” You continue, squeezing her tight.
“Thanks, babe,” she responds when you let each other go, looking over your shoulder. “Where’s Lando? Parking the car?”
“Uh, no, actually. He couldn’t come.” The awkward smile on your face says enough, she knows not to ask any further.
“Oh, okay. That’s too bad. I would have loved to see him. You know, congratulate him on his podiums, it’s been going well lately, no?” She walks you into the house as she speaks, turning her head to watch your reaction.
“Yeah, the team’s really improved.” Once again, the tight smile on your face is clear.
A frown forms on her face at your reaction and she’s about to ask further, whether everything is okay, when she’s interrupted.
“Hey, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a while! How are you? You never come to the races anymore,” Carlos tells you with a fake pout.
You look at him in surprise. You always forget that everyone in Monaco knows each other. Carlos and your friend met at the golf club and had somehow become good friends. Usually, you liked seeing him, but tonight you would’ve preferred not to see him. Not because you don’t enjoy his company, but simply because you’d rather not talk about Lando, whom he’ll undoubtedly ask about.
And so, your mask shoots up when he pulls you into a hug. “Hey, Carlos. I’m good. How’ve you been doing?”
“I’ve been doing well. You heard the news? That I’m going to Williams next year?” You nod, saying a quick “Of course, congrats!” Naturally, you heard the news; everyone had. But this conversation was already heading in the wrong direction. “Yes, glad to have found a place that will appreciate me, even if the team’s not doing the best right now. Talking about the best, Lando’s been doing so well. You must be proud of him, hm?”
“Ah, yes, of course,” you say indifferently.
Carlos frowns at your reaction. “Everything good between you two?”
Your smile drops, apparently, you aren’t as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. “Yeah, everything is fine. Why do you ask?”
Carlos shrugs, “Just the way you react, is all. You seem kind of tense…”
You sigh, letting a silence fall for a few seconds. You might as well tell him, he’ll figure it out eventually. “You’re right. Things… haven’t been so great lately.”
Carlos frowns at your comment. “Between you and Lando, you mean? He didn’t say anything was up, he seemed fine the last time I spoke to him,” he says confusedly.
You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “I’m not surprised. He seems to be clueless to what’s been going on.”
Carlos takes a sip of his drink, “Have you talked to him about it?”
“That’s the issue. Lando’s never home, we barely speak anymore. He’s been so stressed with work that nearly all his free time is dedicated to racing. He gets up early and goes to bed before I’ve even had dinner. I’ve had no chance to talk to him.”
The frown deepens, and he breathes out a puff of air. “That’s tough.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting this on you.”
“No, it’s fine don’t worry about it. Sometimes you need to get it off your chest.”
You look up at Carlos, hesitating to continue your story.
“Has the break not changed anything?” He pokes further.
Another sigh. “No, not really. Lando’s using his time off to catch up with his friends. And his forgetfulness has clearly not improved either.”
“His forgetfulness?”
“Yeah, he forgot about the party, clearly.” You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes again.
“What else did he forget about?” Carlos asks with a frown.
“I don’t know if I should tell you,” you hesitate, “but he forgot our anniversary. I told him it’s not a big deal, which it isn’t, but it’s just that everything is adding up. I feel kind of alone in the relationship at the moment, like he doesn’t really care about me anymore. How can I think otherwise, when we barely see each other, let alone speak?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. That really sucks.”
You smile sadly, as if to say ‘it is what it is’.
“It’ll work out in the end,” you tell him. You hope. “Maybe tonight he’ll realise he forgot something important, again. Maybe that’ll make a difference.” You offer an awkward smile.
Carlos breathes in deeply, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get your mind off it, huh?” he says while directing you towards the fridge.
You nod, follow him, and accept the drink he offers you. Tonight is not about Lando, it’s about your best friend and the fact she turned 25. You are not thinking about your husband until you get home.
– – – – –
You slam the front door of your shared apartment louder than necessary when you enter. Nevertheless, there’s no reaction when you enter the dark apartment. You switch the lights on, noticing Lando isn’t in the living room or kitchen. Did he really go to sleep not knowing where you were or who you were with? Whether you were safe or not? Lando obviously didn’t remember the birthday party or he would’ve come, yet he didn’t text you to ask you where you were? Does he truly care so little about you? Does he even love you anymore? It feels like a punch to the gut – like someone had ripped your heart out.
The man had been basically avoiding you for weeks, barely saying a word at the moments you did see him, but at least he was still awake to see if you arrived okay. Now he doesn't even stay up to check if you get home safely anymore? Or text you to ask where you are? To say you are upset is an understatement, you feel angry and neglected at his disregard. You feel lonely instead of beloved. The lump in your throat is a painful reminder of how close you are to crying. But you don’t.
You swallow the lump, blink a few times to get rid of the lingering tears in your eyes and go into the bedroom to take off your makeup. You lean on the counter, sniffling silently, and close your eyes. You breathe in through your nose deeply, before breathing out through your mouth. It’ll be okay. Right?
When you enter the bedroom you stare for a minute at the man sleeping peacefully before you. It feels wrong when you climb into bed next to him, nevertheless, you do it. It’ll probably take you a while to fall asleep tonight.
– – – – –
The situation hasn’t changed a bit when the racing season starts back up again. No matter how strained your relationship has become, you do want to say goodbye to Lando before he leaves for the next race. So, the morning he’s supposed to fly, you make sure to get up extra early. You don’t know how, but he still somehow manages to finish his breakfast before you’re even out of bed, the container already in the trash.
“Good morning,” you mumble, wiping your eyes as they adjust to the bright light in the kitchen.
Lando looks up from his phone in surprise, clearly not expecting to see you awake this early. “Hey, what are you doing up?” He asks in a soft voice.
“Wanted to say goodbye,” you say as you walk closer to the kitchen island at which he’s sitting.
“There’s no need for that, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon enough.” The smile on his face is sickeningly sweet, a clear contrast to the words coming out of his mouth.
You frown, “You’re leaving for a week… What do you mean, there’s no need?”
Lando sighs at your question, “Never mind, it’s kind of you to get up extra early just for me,” he smiles dismissively before getting up from his seat. “It’s time for me to go,” he says looking at his watch before grabbing his backpack and suitcase which are sitting by the door, “I’ll see you in a week.”
You’re left staring in surprise as the door slams closed. He didn’t kiss you goodbye. He always did that, even during the worst of fights. That’s your rule. Formula 1 is a dangerous sport, he could be hurt in a split second, never mind being killed. From the start of your relationship, he always kissed you before he left, just in case. You hated the thought at the start, but learned to think it was sweet; that, in case something happened, at least he kissed his girl goodbye.
You’re watching your marriage crumble before your eyes, and Lando doesn’t seem to have a clue, or pretends not to notice. This is it, you decide. This cannot go any further. As soon as he gets home, you will talk to Lando, no matter how badly it will affect his race. You can’t do this any longer.
However, somebody else is already one step ahead of you. Carlos had noticed the toll your strained marriage with Lando was taking on you, and couldn’t help confronting Lando the first second he saw him. It didn’t help either that Charles was way too curious about the relationship drama. He had been pushing Carlos to find out more to save his gossip-desperate soul after the radio silence during the break.
“Hey, Lando!” Carlos yells, jogging up to Lando and matching his pace.
“Hey, man! How are you doing? Had a nice break?” Lando asks, giving Carlos a quick hug.
“Yeah, yeah, I had fun. What about you?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. It was good to get some time off. I really needed it; finally got to see my friends again,” Lando grins while Carlos raises an eyebrow at the answer.
“What about your wife? Finally got to spend some time with her now that you didn’t have to travel so much?” Carlos asks.
Lando laughs awkwardly at his suggestive question, “You know it!”
Carlos ignores the casual response. “I actually saw Y/N last week, at a friend’s birthday party. Was surprised to see you didn’t come with her…”
A frown etches onto Lando’s face. “What birthday party?”
“I think she’s one of Y/N’s best friends, she turned 25?”
Lando’s eyes widen in realisation. “Fuck, yes, I remember now.”
“She told you about it?” Carlos asks, watching as Lando’s expression shifts from realisation to discomfort.
“Yeah… She mentioned it a couple of times,” he admits. “She didn’t tell me that she went...”
Carlos lets him ponder it for a moment before adding, “Well, she was there. We talked for a bit, actually.”
Lando feels his stomach tighten. He tilts his head slightly. “What did she say?”
Carlos hesitates, glancing around the paddock while he weighs his options. “Uhm, she said you’ve been distant lately. That you haven’t been paying much attention to her, that you missed your anniversary…”
Lando stops walking. “She told you about that?”
“Yeah, man.” Carlos sighs. “Look, she didn’t go into too much detail, but… she sounded upset. Maybe you should make some time for her, take her out on a date or something. It seems like she feels pretty lonely.”
Lando shifts uncomfortably, his heart sinks in his chest. “Lonely?” The word echoes in his mind, unsettling him. He knows the feeling all too well. He’s the reason his wife has been feeling lonely? The guilt settles deep within his soul as he mulls it over. He tries to laugh it off, but it feels hollow. “She knows how demanding the season has been. I’ve been swamped.”
“I’m sure she does, but… it’s more than that. She told me she feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.” The look on his face is serious as he says it.
Lando blinks, the weight of Carlos’ words sinking in. How could he have missed something so crucial? Why hadn’t Y/N said anything? More importantly, why hadn’t he noticed?”
“She thinks I don’t care about her?” He mutters to himself. His gaze is unfocused as he chews his lip, running a hand over his face out of frustration. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He says quietly.
“There was no opportunity to tell you, she said. You're never home.”
Carlos lets out another sigh. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t want your marriage to be ruined. I know you love Y/N to pieces. I would be upset with myself if you guys don’t make it out together knowing I could have done something about it. That being said, I think you should talk to her.”
Lando nods absentmindedly. He didn't even consider that they might not make it out okay. “You’re right. Thanks for telling me, man.”
As Carlos walks away, Lando is left standing there, his mind working overtime. He had been busy, yes, but surely you understood that, right? He’d been working so hard for the both of you, to secure a future for you. But… had he been neglecting you without even realising it?
The conversation with Carlos continues to replay in his head throughout the day. Maybe he hadn’t been as attentive as he thought. Maybe all those nights out with friends, all those early mornings spent focused on racing had a bigger effect than he assumed. He tries to push the thoughts away, to justify it with the pressure of the season, but it doesn’t sit right anymore.
The rest of the weekend Carlos’ words echo through his head, ‘She feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.’ Lando can barely concentrate with the guilt that’s gnawing at his conscious.
– – – – –
By the time Lando leaves his hotel, he has formed a plan. He has rehearsed a dozen different apologies in his head. He’ll explain what happened, that he’s been so busy with work that he didn’t notice, and he’ll say sorry and change his behaviour. And after that, all will be well.
His plan is thrown out the window as soon as he gets home and sees his wife sitting on the couch, your face pale and tired as you watch TV. The state of you makes the practised words dry on his tongue. How could he not have noticed what was happening?
“Why didn’t you tell me you felt lonely?”
You look up in surprise at the abrupt question cutting through the silence. No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘I missed you, baby’, just the sharp edge of confrontation.
“What?”
“Carlos told me you’ve been feeling lonely. Why didn’t you tell me?”
You frown at his directness, “When was I supposed to do that, Lando? You’re always gone.”
“That’s not true—” he tries to protest, but you cut him off.
“There was not one moment I could have told you, Lando! You’re always busy with work and when you’re not, your friends take up all your free time! You haven’t made any time for me in weeks, months even!” You yell.
Tears well up in your eyes at the confrontation. You had kept your frustrations to yourself for weeks and now that he finds out about your feelings he decides to yell at you for it. How else are you expected to react?
Your words hit Lando hard, each one landing like a punch. His eyes flicker with guilt. “I’ve been under so much pressure. The team needs me—this season could be my best chance at a championship, and I—”
You cut him off, your voice soft. “I know, Lando. I know how important your career is and that this is your chance, but that doesn’t mean all your time should be spent on racing. You’ve no time left for me anymore; all your energy is drained when I finally see you at the end of the day.”
“I can’t help that my job is demanding! You know that, Y/N. You’ve always known that. It takes a lot of time to improve, and the team is finally performing. It’s my chance at a championship! I can’t pass that up!”
“I get that Lando, I really do. But I’ve felt alone in this relationship for months now. I never see you, we never talk… The night of the party you didn’t even text me to ask where I was, or who I was with. You were already sleeping before I got home! Weren’t you worried at all? Or even curious to know where I was, whether I was safe? Sometimes… Sometimes, I doubt whether you still care about me – whether you still love me, because it feels like you don’t.” The tears slowly fall down your face while you say it.
That’s when it hits him – truly hits him. Lando swears he could hear his heart break. He looks at you in shock, and you can’t deny you feel a little better because of it. Had he really fucked up that bad? Do you really believe he no longer loves you, or cares about you? You are the most important person in his life. How could this have gone so far without him noticing? How could he have made the love of his life feel like she wasn’t loved? He runs a hand through his hair in distress, trying to wrap his head around your admission.
“I’ve been patient, Lando. I’ve been understanding, but you’re just never present. Not just physically, but mentally, too. I miss you.”
Lando looks at you sadly from across the room, disappointed in himself. He quickly closes the distance, reaching for your hand. His voice is soft when he speaks to you. “I do. I do love you, Y/N,” he says, caressing your face softly, pulling your chin up so your eyes meet, his teary eyes staring into your red ones. “You’re the love of my life. I care about you so much. You’re the most important to me, above anything else, and you always will be. Don’t forget that, okay? Promise me you’ll never forget that, baby.”
You sniffle, wiping away the tears that are slowly making their way down to your chin, while you nod. The sound physically pains him, his heart twisting torturously in his chest. He vows to never make you cry again.
“I’m so sorry I let it come this far, darling. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything, trying to win, trying to be perfect for the team that I didn’t see what I was losing in the process.”
You interrupt him, “I don’t need perfect, Lando. I just need you to be here. With me. Because if it keeps going like this… I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”
Her words hang between them, and for the first time in weeks, Lando realises the gravity of what he stands to lose if he doesn’t make a change soon. He nods frantically. “Of course, baby. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. You say the word, and I’ll do it. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t love you, because I do. So much. I can’t lose you, I don’t ever want to come this close to losing you ever again.”
He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go; like you’ll walk away from him as soon as he does. You press your face into his chest, missing the feeling of him against you and his comforting scent. The last time he touched you, let alone hugged you feels like ages ago.
“I’ll be better, I’ll make time for you, I promise,” he mumbles, his mouth grazing over your hair, as he tugs you impossibly closer into his tight embrace.
You smile faintly through your tears. “I believe you.”
Sad, Beautiful, Tragic (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)
Genre: Angst
As the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself standing near the open window overlooking the rolling waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of sand and seaweed. Seagulls soared gracefully overhead, their cries echoing in the distance as they rode the currents above the crashing waves. The sky above was painted in hues of orange and pink, the last remnants of daylight fading into the darkness of night.
In the distance, the silhouette of lighthouses stood sentinel against the twilight, their beams cutting through the gathering dusk to guide sailors safely home. Along the shoreline, traditional clapboard houses nestled among the dunes, their weathered exteriors a testament to the passage of time. And as the waves rhythmically kissed the sandy shore, a sense of tranquility settled over the landscape, wrapping it in a blanket of serenity that whispered of secrets waiting to be discovered.
Your gaze drifted to the locket hanging around your neck, the silver chain glinting in the fading light, holding a childhood image of Max close to your heart. Its familiar weight always been a source of comfort for you.
Allowing yourself to be sweep off to a daydream, memory of him lingered like a ghost. Every time you close your eyes, you imagine the two of you having warm conversations, the words flowing effortlessly between you, as if no time had passed at all.
Reality crashed down upon you, pulling you back to the harsh truth of your separate lives. In different cities, you both woke in lonely beds.
__________________________________________
[Flashback]
The tension in the air was palpable as you and Max stood facing each other, words hanging heavy between you like a storm waiting to break.
"I just don't understand why you're always moving around," you exclaimed, frustration seeping into your voice. "We barely spend any time together anymore."
Max's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as he spoke. "This is my life, Y/N. Racing is what I do, what I live for. You knew that when we got together. Don’t you turn this on me.”
"I know, but it's like you're always off chasing something else," you shot back, unable to hide the hurt in your voice. "I thought we were supposed to be in this together."
His eyes flashed with anger, voice rising as he lashed out. "You'll never understand what it's like to be an F1 driver. The demands, the pressure—it's not something you can just turn on and off as you please."
Your heart sank at your lover’s words, the sting of his accusation cutting deep. "So what, I'm supposed to just drop everything and follow you around like some trophy girlfriend? Is that what you want?"
Max's expression softened, regret flickering in his eyes as he reached out to touch your arm. "I didn't mean it like that, schatje. But maybe if you were more like the other girlfriends—"
Your eyes narrowed, hurt turning to anger as you pulled away from his touch. "I shouldn't have to change who I am just to fit into your new life, Max. If you can't accept me for who I am, then maybe we shouldn't be together at all."
With those words hanging between you like a chasm too wide to bridge, you turned and walked away, leaving Max to grapple with the weight of his own expectations and the reality of what it meant to truly love someone.
__________________________________________
The days that followed were filled with a heavy silence, the distance between you and Max feeling impregnable even within the confines of your shared home. Each moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, filled with the weight of unresolved tensions.
Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room with the cats on your lap, Max entered, his footsteps hesitant as if unsure of his welcome.
Max began softly, “Why are we so out of sync these days, schat. Godverdomme, I hate fighting with you.”
You nodded, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. "I don’t know, Max… It's like we're trapped in this hellish cycle we can't break."
Max approached you, his expression pleading. "Have we truly lost our way?”
Tears pricked at your eyes as you met his gaze, the pain of misunderstanding tearing at your heart. "Can you just hold me right now?”
With a deep breath, Max closed the distance between you, his touch gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Come here, mijn liefje.”
As you melted into his embrace, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by the fragile hope of reconciliation. In the quiet sanctuary of your home, you dared to think that things are going to get better.
__________________________________________
You know what they say, the golden days never last for long. And yours turn dull in the blink of an eye.
A few months passed, you couldn't escape the constant reminders of Max's growing closeness with Kelly Piquet. Their pictures seemed to be everywhere, captured in different corners of the world, each one a painful reminder of the distance that had grown between you.
Kelly's job as a model and influencer afforded her the flexibility to travel to every Grand Prix with ease, a stark contrast to your own demanding career as a business consultant in Monaco. As you scrolled through social media, the self-doubt gnawed at you. Had Max found your replacement in Kelly?
You tried to push aside the nagging thoughts, reminding yourself that trust was the foundation of any relationship. But as the whispers and rumors grew louder, fueled by the constant presence of Kelly in Max's life, your insecurities threatened to consume you. Whenever Max have his photo taken, Kelly is only a few steps behind.
You decided to click on a more recent video due to the attention it has garnered. Max’s face appeared, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"And what about Kelly Piquet?" the interviewer asked, a knowing glint in their eye. "You two seem to have become quite close recently. Can you tell us about your newfound friendship?"
Max let out a breathy laugh, "Kelly is really fun to be around," he began. "We share a lot of the same interests, especially when it comes to racing and traveling."
You feel your throat closing up with every word he spoke, but he continues on, "She's introduced me to so many new experiences, including meeting her father, Nelson Piquet. It was an honor to spend time with him and get some feedbacks on how to better improve myself."
As the interview continued to play, each word feeling like a dagger to your heart, you couldn't bear to hear any more.
The interviewer nodded, their interest piqued by Max's genuine enthusiasm. "It sounds like you two have—,”
With a flick of your wrist, you closed the video, the screen going dark as you threw your phone across the room. Jimmy and Sassy, startled by the sudden commotion, scurried away, their tails fluffed with alarm.
Alone in the silence of your apartment, the pain and frustration boiled over, and with a scream of anguish, you unleashed the pent-up emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface.
"Fuck you, Max Verstappen!" you shouted, the words echoing off the walls as tears streamed down your face. In that moment, the weight of betrayal felt almost too much.
As the echoes of your scream faded into the stillness of the night, you collapsed onto the floor, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. And in the darkness, with nothing but the sound of your own ragged breaths, you allowed yourself to grieve for the love you had lost.
__________________________________________
The darkness of your despair seemed to swallow you whole. The thought of even touching your phone filled you with dread, terrified of stumbling upon yet another headline or photo of Max and Kelly together.
You had moved to Monaco with hopes of being closer to Max, to build a life together. But now, it was clear that those hopes had been nothing but illusions.
With each passing moment, the love you once felt for Max began to chip away, replaced by a seething anger that burned hot. How dare he throw you away like yesterday's news, all because you no longer fit into the life of a World’s Champion?
In a moment of clarity, you made the decision to pack your bags, to leave behind the city that held nothing but painful memories and broken promises. There was no use in clinging to a love that had been so callously discarded, no future left for you in a place that only served to remind you of what you had lost and failed to keep.
As you moved through the apartment, gathering your belongings, Jimmy and Sassy followed close behind, their soft purrs and gentle nudges a silent comfort in the midst of your turmoil. It was as if they understood, as if they knew that you were leaving, and their presence offered a small solace.
Meanwhile on the other side of the globe, Max's anxiety grew with each unanswered call. Every attempt to reach out only led to the cold emptiness of voicemail, leaving him with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Scenes of your last encounter replayed in his mind, each one a painful reminder of the words left unsaid and the hurt he had caused. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that he had pushed you away when you needed him the most.
"Come on, schat, please pick up," he repeated, the desperation evident in his voice.
Growing desperate, Max even reached out to the security of his building, hoping for any sign of your whereabouts. But their responses only deepened his fear, confirming that you hadn't been seen in days.
With a heavy heart, Max realized the gravity of his actions. He had let his own ambitions blind him to the pain he had caused you, and now, he feared it might be too late to make things right.
His hands trembled as he dialed his manager's number. "Get the jet ready for me, I need to fly back to Monaco immediately," he demanded, the urgency in his voice brooking no argument.
"Max, we're in the middle of a Grand Prix," his manager protested, the disbelief evident in his tone. "You can't just leave."
Max's jaw clenched, frustration boiling over as he shouted into the phone, "Fuck that! My girlfriend needs me."
With a determined resolve, Max hung up the phone, his mind set on one thing and one thing only: finding you and making things right. For in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not even all his titles.
__________________________________________
As Max stepped into the apartment, a sense of dread washed over him like a tidal wave. The emptiness of the space seemed to echo with the absence of your presence.
Frantically, he searched for any sign of you, his heart pounding in his chest with each passing moment. But the apartment yielded no clues, no trace of your belongings, not even a lingering scent to suggest that you had been there recently.
The reality of your absence hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless and reeling. The walls seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with the weight of his own regret.
"Where are you?" Max's voice echoed through the empty apartment, filled with desperation. "Please, Y/N, don't leave me like this!"
His shouts reverberated off the walls, each one a plea for your return, a desperate cry for forgiveness. But the silence that greeted him was deafening, broken only by the sound of his own ragged breaths.
"Please, liefje, I can't bear to be without you," he begged, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll do anything to make things right, just please come back to me."
But his words hung unanswered in the air, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the apartment. And as Max sank to the floor, tears streaming down his face, he realized that he had let the love of his life slip away, and now, there was no guarantee that he would ever find his way back to her again.
Still he will try, dammit he promise he will.
Max dialed the numbers of your closest friends, his heart pounding with urgency. "Hello? It's Max," he began, his voice tight with emotion. "I am very sorry to bother you but… do you know where Y/N is? I screwed up I know but has she said anything?”
There was a hesitant pause on the other end of the line before your friend responded cautiously, "I'm sorry, Max. I can't help you with that."
Max's frustration boiled over as he pleaded, "Please… I need to know if she's okay. I need to find her."
But each conversation ended the same way, with her friends refusing to reveal anything about your whereabouts. It was as if you had disappeared without a trace, leaving Max with no leads.
As he hung up the phone for the umpteenth time, Max realized that he was truly alone in his search for you. And with each passing moment, the sense of desperation grew, driving him to the brink of madness as he searched for any clue that would lead him back to you.
Max reached a point of exhaustion so profound that his body finally succumbed, and he slipped into unconsciousness. A faint memory surfaced from the depths of his subconscious—a conversation with you, a moment frozen in time.
"If you could run away, where would you go?" he asked, the words hanging in the air between you as you lay together, your head resting against his chest.
You drew lazy circles on his skin as you pondered his question, your voice soft with contemplation. "I guess I would go to Rhode Island."
In his dreams, Max found himself transported to a tranquil beach on the shores of Rhode Island, the gentle waves lapping at his feet as the salty breeze kissed his skin. The sound of seagulls echoed in the distance, their cries a soothing melody that carried on the wind.
With a sudden jerk, Max's eyes snapped open, his heart racing with a newfound sense of clarity. Rhode Island. The words echoed in his mind.
Could it be possible? Could you have truly gone to Rhode Island?
Suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Jimmy and Sassy approaching, their usual playful demeanor replaced by a palpable sense of sadness.
Max's heart sank at the sight of his beloved cats looking so forlorn. With a heavy sigh, he reached out to them, offering a comforting touch as they nuzzled against his hand.
"I know," Max murmured. "I'm sorry I made mum leave, but I promise we'll get her back."
The cats gazed up at him with soulful eyes, as if understanding his words. In that moment, Max would do anything to bring you back home where you belonged.
__________________________________________
In the cozy living room of your temporary home in Rhode Island, you and your best friend, Lily Muni He who also happens to be the girlfriend of Alex Albon sat together, surrounded by boxes and scattered belongings as you worked to settle in. The soft glow of afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm ambiance over the room.
As you unpacked, Lily's presence brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, her easy smile and gentle demeanor easing the weight of your recent upheaval.
With a sigh, you set aside a box and turned to Lily. "Thank you for helping me with all of this," you said, gratitude lacing your words. "I don't know what I would do without you."
Lily smiled warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course, love. You know I'll always be here for you," she replied, her voice soft with sincerity.
Taking a seat beside you, Lily reached out to grasp your hand in hers, a gesture of solidarity and support. "I know this hasn't been easy for you," she continued, her tone gentle. "But I want you to know that you're not alone. Me and Alex are here for you, every step of the way."
Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the weight of Lily's words wash over you. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice catching with emotion.
Lily’s gaze lingers on you with sadness. "I'll miss seeing you around the paddock," she said. "It won't be the same without you there."
You smiled weakly. "I'll miss it too," you admitted. "But I think it's time for a fresh start, you know?"
She nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that," her tone gentle. "Just know that no matter where you go, you'll always have a home with us. Alex and I will come visit you any time we can.”
A wistful expression crossed your face. "I miss the cats," you confessed. "I know it's silly, but they were like family to me."
"It's not silly at all, Y/N” she reassured. "They were a big part of your life, and it's natural to miss them."
You offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Lil," you said, the weight of homesickness easing ever so slightly. "I just hope they're doing okay without me."
"I'm sure they miss you too," she replied. "But Jimmy and Sassy are resilient little creatures. They'll be just fine."
You let out a mirthless laugh. "If you meet him, you should ask Max to get one of those automatic food dispensers. He's away from home most of the time, and last I heard Kelly is allergic to cats."
Lily snorted at your remark, the irony of the situation not lost on either of you. Soon, giggles bubbled up between you, the tension of the moment dissipating in a shared moment of laughter.
"Solid idea," she replied. "I'll be sure to mention it to him if I get the chance."
__________________________________________
As the sun beat down on the bustling city of Doha, reporters from around the world gathered outside the Red Bull Racing garage, their cameras flashing and microphones poised. The atmosphere was electric with anticipation and concern, as whispers of Max Verstappen's mysterious disappearance spread like wildfire through the paddock.
In the heart of the chaos, a reporter with a steely gaze faced the camera, her voice cutting through the clamor of the crowd. "Good evening from Doha, where the Formula 1 world is in a state of shock and confusion," she began, her words echoing across the airwaves.
Behind her, a throng of journalists clamored for attention, shouting questions and jostling for position. Camera crews darted back and forth, capturing every moment of the unfolding drama.
"Max Verstappen, the reigning world champion, has gone MIA," the reporter continued, her brow furrowed with concern. "His absence has sent shockwaves through the paddock, leaving fans and fellow drivers alike bewildered."
As she spoke, images of Verstappen flashed across the screen, capturing his triumphant moments on the track. The tension in the air was palpable, as the world waited with bated breath for any news of the missing champion.
Inside, tension hung thick in the air as Christian Horner paced back and forth, his frustration evident in every furrow of his brow. Beside him, members of the team exchanged worried glances, whispering amongst themselves as they tried to make sense of the situation.
"We need to do damage control, and fast," Horner declared, his voice tight with urgency. "This is not how a reigning world champion should behave."
Checo spoke up with a wry smile. "We all know exactly where he went to," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement. "I'm just surprised it took him this long to grow balls."
Horner's frustration turned to bewilderment as he turned to face Checo, his expression a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. "What do you mean, Checo?" he demanded, his voice tinged with incredulity.
Kelly Piquet's sudden entrance into the garage caused heads to turn, her expression mirroring Horner's earlier demeanor. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for answers as she approached the group.
"Where is Max? What was he thinking?" she demanded, her voice tinged with exasperation.
Checo, ever the straight shooter, couldn't help but roll his eyes at Kelly's questions. "As if you don't know," he retorted, his tone tinged with sarcasm.
Kelly's eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with him, a flash of annoyance crossing her features. "What's that supposed to mean?" she shot back, her voice edged with irritation.
But before Checo could respond again, Horner stepped forward, his expression grave as he addressed Kelly. "Kelly, we're all trying to figure out what happened," he interjected, his tone firm but measured. "But right now, our priority is to handle the fallout and ensure the team's reputation remains intact."
With Max Verstappen's whereabouts now a hot topic of speculation among the media, the Red Bull Racing team faced an uphill battle to contain the fallout from their champion's sudden departure.
I want this type of relationship 💕
This
His face here
This
And most importantly
THIS.
You can’t fucking tell me Killua is not 189% in love with Gon.
You can’t tell me that they’re not meant for each other.
You can’t tell me that they’re not frickin canon.
You can’t.
Love how she was all carefree then skipped right over angry and went all the way to Dark Souls miniboss
I am in hungry for a f1 fic….. pls feed me
౨ৎ dramatic mornings are perfect with you
°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )
°. — summary ( lando will always deal with your dramatics . . . because even so early in the morning he finds you adorable )
°. — details ( g; fluff, humor ig?. w; none really, a little talk of readers boobs. wc; 1.9k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I am hungry for some f1 fics too . . I’ve missed writing for f1, I’m sure I’ll be writing more now that the season has started !!! Hope this satisfies your hunger <333 please let me know what you guys think x )
main masterlist f1 masterlist
You let out an annoyed sigh as you laced your fingers across your midsection and on top of your duvet, your thumbs absentmindedly tapping against each other. Your eyes darted to the right to see that he still hasn't moved at all, no reaction from him as he slept peacefully next to you, the sun that shone through your white curtains illuminating his face so beautifully.
You furrowed your eyebrows and looked away from him and back up at your ceiling, a small huff leaving your lips. You continued to tap your thumbs against each other for a few more moments only to abruptly stop as an even louder sigh left your lips. You quickly turn your head to face him when you hear the familiar sound of the blankets shift, and a grumpy frown comes across your face when you see him snuggle into his pillow, instead of waking up and asking you what's wrong like you expected him to do.
The more you stared at your oblivious and sleeping boyfriend, the more annoyed you got. His beautiful brown curls were all over the place ⸺ a physical testimony to how he can't stay still even in bed. Those beautiful curls that girl had the nerve to run her hands through. His cheek was squished against your baby pink pillow, soft breaths leaving his slightly parted lips. The same lips that smiled down at the girl and kissed her forehead . . . you couldn't believe it when you saw it.
Well to clarify . . . you didn't see it. You dreamt it . . . But that's not the point!
You looked away from your sleeping boyfriend and to your left where your bedside table was, your pink cloud alarm clock showed that it was 7 in the morning. You and lando both refused to be up so early on days off like today, but while your boyfriend was sleeping peacefully ⸺ you couldn't find yourself being able to go back to sleep after the dream you had.
You rolled over on your side facing lando and leaned up on your elbow, you still had a grumpy frown on your lips as you stared down at him. You had to stop yourself from bringing your hand down and softly brush his curls out of his face and remind yourself that you were in fact upset with him. How could you not be after what he did?
You used your free hand and moved it towards him, pulling the blanket down from covering his shoulder before poking him right in the ribs. Your first poke got no reaction since it was too soft, so your second one was much harder and the only reaction you got was a groan leaving his parted lips and him moving to lay fully on his stomach instead of laying on his side. You ignored the awe you wanted to let out when he does that adorable nose scrunch as he snuggles deeper into your pillows.
“Lando” you hissed his name but the only reaction you got from him was him turning his head away from you, a dramatic and offended gasp leaving your lips at the action. You glare at the back of his hand and fully sit up. You bring your finger up to his shoulder blade and his cotton t-shirt did nothing to protect him from the feeling of your relentless poking.
“Darling if you poke me again” Lando grumbled groggily as he lifted his head up from the pillow and turned to face you, his eyes were barely open and he had a red hue and a few line marks from your pillow on his face, all signs of having a great sleep ⸺ a great sleep you interrupted, any other morning you would have felt bed . . . but today was not one of them.
“You're what?. . . going to cheat on me again?”
“What?” Lando choked on his own spit, his tone filled with confusion and grogginess. He pushed himself up on his elbows, the movement causing the blanket to fully fall off his back and you to feel a cold chill on your bare thighs; your sleep shorts not helping against the morning chill. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms and turned his head to look at you, his eyes narrowed “What on earth are you talking about ⸺ are you feeling sick? Because you are talking mad”
You slapped his hand away from your forehead that he was trying to feel for a fever and glared at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What's sick is what you let her do . . . would you stop staring at my tits!” You trailed off into a shout once you noticed your boyfriend's eyes staring down at your white lace camisole covered chest.
You gasped dramatically and pulled the pillow out from under his elbows and used it to cover your chest “I bet you couldn't keep your eyes off her tits! Could you?” your tone was accusatory, and your grumpy frown turns into a sad one at the thought, you held the pillow tightly to your chest for some comfort. Lando loved your boobs . . . it hurt to think that he was staring at someone else's.
“Darling, i have no idea who this she is” Lando said as he moved to sit up, his fingers in air quotes as he says ‘she’. Lando moves closer to you and gently pulls down the pillow you stuffed your face in and continues speaking, your words had chased away any ounce of tiredness in his body “But i can assure you, that your boobs, your wonderful boobs may i add, are the only ones i stare at.”
“You cheated on me, i am not going to fall for your sweet words lando”
“When did I cheat on you hmm?” Lando questioned you, tilting his head with a hum. He knew for a fact that he has never and will never cheat on you, so he was confused and concerned why you were passionate that he did. You were too upset to notice the concern in your boyfriend's tone and you were quick to answer him “In my dream! You let her run her hands through your hair and down your chest and then you had the nerve to kiss her forehead!”
“Wait wait wait . . . your dream?” Lando cut your rant off, a look of disbelief on his face from your words. This was all because of your dream? Lando thought. And even though Lando felt the tiniest of annoyance from being woken up so early, he couldn't help but find the situation and the way you were acting . . . adorable. “Yes, my dream, keep up lan!” you rolled your eyes in annoyance and lando let himself relax back in bed, laying back down and pulling you down with him. You reluctantly let yourself lay on your side, facing him.
“You're annoyed with me?” Lando muttered as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared at his girlfriend, blinking away the sleep in his eyes.
“Clearly”
“For something that I did in your dream?” He had to stop himself from smiling when he asked you, he didn't know why it was so attractive to see you jealous about a dream. You noticed his lips twitching up into a smile for a few seconds before falling into his resting face. A dramatic scoff leaves your lips, and you are quick to turn your back to him, upset that he wasn't taking this seriously.
Lando smiles and scoots closer behind you, sliding his arm around your waist and resting it under the pillow you were still holding against your chest, using his strength to pull you back snug against him. You wanted to complain and push him off, but you couldn't help but let yourself sink and relax in his warm embrace. Lando who was still leaning up on his elbow looks down at your side profile as he speaks softly “I’m sorry i did that darling, dream me is very stupid it seems.”
“But that was just a dream because I promise you, you are the only girl I want. The only girl whose tits I want and do look at” Lando leaned down as he trailed off into a whisper, your breath hitching when you felt his warm breath against your neck as he whispers in your ear. Lando slipped his hand under your camisole and softly traced random shapes on your stomach as he continued to whisper “The only forehead i want to kiss is yours.”
You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling at your boyfriend's words, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing his sweet talking was in fact working. Lando moves his hand out from under your top and softly places two of his fingers on your jaw, gently using them to tilt your face towards him. Lando has a small pout on his very kissable lips as he looks down at you “Baby please don't be mad at me because dream me is an idiot, you know I’d never do that to you.”
“You're right . . . you are an idiot” you whispered back with a small nod as you adjusted your body to lay on your back. You lifted your hand to brush back some of Lando's messy curls from his face as he looked down at you. Lando's eyes fluttered closed for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of you playing with his hair before he opened them and looked down at you with a big smile “You mean dream me, right?”
You shrugged playfully, the corner of your lips tilting up into a cheeky smile. Lando gasped dramatically, faking shock and hurt at your words. You thought he was going to bring his hand to dramatically put over his heart like your dramatic boyfriend has done before, when you saw him move it from your chin, but instead he rests it on the pillow right next to your head; caging you in between his body and the bed.
You locked eyes with your boyfriend and before you could question why he was smirking down at you like that, he was leaning down and leaving a big smooch on your cheek. He quickly moved to your other cheek, then he littered kisses all over your face. Making sure that he kissed every inch of your beautiful face. “Eww lan morning breath” you whined out as you tried to cover your face with your hands, worried that he would smell your breath.
“My girl thinks I’d cheat on her with some random girl from the club ⸺ morning breath is the last thing on my mind right now” Lando whispered as he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip before moving it up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. You smile softly as you hear him say ‘my girl’. You whisper with an embarrassed sigh as you think back on the morning you two have shared “I've been pretty dramatic haven't I?”
“You're so adorable you know that right?” Lando grinned, completely ignoring your question. Yes, you were, but he wouldn't change anything about you at all. He wouldn't change anything about this morning. Because he woke up with you by his side. You smile and bite your lip, absentmindedly fidgeting with the bottom of Lando's shirt “Mind telling me that again?”
“I promise to tell you that every day for the rest of our lives.”
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THIS SM !!! I MISSED WRITING CUTE BF LANDO, please let me know that you guys think, and if you’d like to be added to my lando or my f1 taglist 🫶🏻 )
°. — taglist ( @ophcelia @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
Timeless lovin’ - Pt. 1
Pairing: 40s/CATFA!Steve Rogers x present!reader
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
WARNING - The following story contains: explicit smut (not in this chapter), angst, fluff, developing feelings/slow burn, spoilers, alternative reality.
Pt. | 1 | 2 | 3 |
Summary: Steve left for Peggy in the past, and you were determined to travel back in time and get answers after he left your relationship of 4 years behind him just like that. You get a little ahead of yourself and travel past where your Steve left off, and you meet Steve Rogers, - the man before he hit the ice and was frozen for 70 years.
Second person POV
Steve and you met each other through S.H.I.E.L.D. You first became familiar in 2014 when you became an agent for the agency. Steve worked as a counter-terrorist operative and was frequently put up on extreme missions which required the super soldier. You were in contrast put on easier but secretive missions, those of which required gathering information from anti forces of the U.S. government.
You were both too busy to exchange conversations, but you acknowledged each other with passing greetings. You had always thought Captain America was an admirable man, and you highly respected him. He seemed to have respect for you too, but he was known for having a big heart, and you knew it was anything but exclusive.
In 2015, when Steve was sent on less missions, he engaged in full conversations with you as you also became more available. There was of course the Ultron attack, but apart from that, crimes were quiet at this time around. You were moved over to writing reports at your office of the few missions that were in action. Steve would come by to ask about your well being, and sometimes drop a coffee off at your desk, - being the considerate man he was. A noticeable sexual tension was growing between you two with the way you would talk to each other, but neither of you acted upon it as it wasn’t deemed appropriate at the time. You sometimes wish you did.
Captain America disappeared from the face of the earth one day as a conflict had erupted between him and Iron Man, - also known as the civil war. He went undercover for 2 years without a word from him. You missed him a lot in that duration of time. It took a long time to get used to not having him pop in for a visit and greet you with coffee, just the way you liked it. Everything was as if he never existed, and you eventually accepted things would be that way until he shows up again, - or never.
Then another unthinkable happened in 2018 when half of the population were erased by Thanos. You were all put in a dark place, one that sought comfort from each other. Steve reached out to you at your office after years of not seeing each other, and a need to show more than just friendly kindness became an urge.
What started with desperate kisses and touches turned into rough sex, with you bent over your own office desk with Steve’s cock being thrusted inside of your cunt from behind. He wasn’t shy at all to test the grounds of fucking you, and you couldn’t say you minded with how good it felt to finally have a euphoric release after feeling down for some time.
The next four years would be the best ones of your life despite what would otherwise be the worst ones for many others. You officially became a couple, with Steve asking you out to a first date. One date turned into many, and you soon moved in together. He proposed to you two years into your relationship, and of course you said yes.
You retired as a SHIELD agent and became an office worker instead. Steve worked at several departments to help and restore damages that had been inflicted in the city due to the snap.
Steve had lost so much, but he had told you that he was still able to move on because you were there. You had become his everything. You were a reason for him to keep going. He showed how much you meant to him through his affection and the intimate moments you had. He put so many words perfectly together and made your heart melt with every sweet thing he said to you.
“You’re my doll. I’ll never leave your side, love.”
That used to settle it in your head that you would grow old with him. That you would soon marry, have kids and live the perfect family life, something you both had expressed wanting.
Little did you know at the time that he would do the opposite of what he had promised.
“Steve, I don’t know how I feel about this mission…” you shared when Steve brought up the plan the remaining Avengers had put together of traveling back in time to restore their failure and bring back half of the population that were lost.
“Love, I know you’re scared…I’m nervous about the mission too. But we need to try. We have planned this for a very long time now and you need to trust me when I say everything will work out accordingly to our plan. It’s not going to be like how it went last time. That was our last time failing. We will make everything right.”
Steve reassured, and kissed the top of your head as he stood by the door.
“Once I’m back, we’re getting married, love.” He huskily whispered the promise, and kissed the hand where your ring rested on your finger. “I love you.”
Those three words would be the last thing you heard from him before he left to the Avenger headquarters to go through with the mission.
48 hours later, and Steve had proved you right. It became world news within seconds that the people who were lost 5 years ago were now back and that Thanos had been defeated.
You remember being absolutely thrilled. You were so proud of Steve and the Avengers for managing the impossible. You were given an update from Scott through text that Captain America was doing alright, and that he would need a few days recovery before he could return home.
No one ever informed you about Steve’s second mission of returning the infinity stones to the past.
It was too late when you a week later asked about him and learned he never returned to the present.
2 years later…..
“Okay, so here’s the thing…—“ Bruce started, “The pym particles I have are not completely legit. They are clones produced by Dr. Strange’s sorcery and my knowledge in their substance, and while they match the substances they contain, the outcome from using them might not be completely the same.” He said, and picked one up to showcase you.
You narrowed an eye as you took the one Bruce held up, studying it with interest. “Do you know what kind of different outcome it may give if I use them?”
“Nothing too crazy, just simple things like, - specification of time traveling and whereabouts. You might not get to your chosen destination or year, so you’ll have to be more considerate and prepared for the unexpected.” Bruce hypothesized.
You were positive of going through with time traveling, even with the risks of having a harder time finding Steve. While this could be counted as one of your most challenging missions, you were up to the task.
“You’re still taking a risk though. This isn’t going to be like when we time travelled to get all the time stones where we were able to to go to a specific time and day. You will be sent to an unspecified year and place to your chosen time period. Not to mention we don’t even know where our Steve time travelled and continued his life, -“
“- It doesn’t matter.” You interrupted. “We know he left off for Peggy, so it must mean he left anywhere between Second World War to the beginning of the Cold War anyway. If I have to put my bets, I’ll guess he went back to the earliest time possible to continue his past life and relationship with Peggy. It’s not a big deal if I show up years later after he arrived there as long as I get to talk to him.” You said.
“Alright. If you’re sure about this, I won’t stop you. You have an extra pym particle, so if anything goes wrong, you just need to come back.” Bruce said, more so in question as he narrowed his eye at you.
“Of course, of course.” You reassured. “I just need to do this. It’s been 2 years and nothing has changed. I haven’t come to peace with the terms and I think a good talk and a screaming session with him will give me just that. I need answers. I know it’s pathetic, but honestly can you blame me?”
“I really don’t, Y/N. It was a shocker for all of us that he left behind his life here when he had said so himself that he had come to like it. I don’t know why he came to make that choice, but regardless it wasn’t fair on you. I totally get it.” Bruce sympathized, which made you quirk a smile.
All this time you thought you were insanse for not being able to leave Steve behind. People advised you to move on, and you tried. You went on dates and met new people all the time, but no matter how much you tried to move forward, you were held back by so many questions. Questions that haunted you and made you cry yourself to sleep as you went down memory lane, trying to find a single moment that you should have picked up on to know your relationship with Steve wasn’t everlasting.
But you couldn’t find a single one.
Why? Why did he leave?
What did I do wrong?
Wasn’t I enough?
Was our love ever real?
You didn’t know anymore about the last one. You couldn’t count all the times he had told you he loved you. He reminded you each time he came back from a mission, each time you woke up in bed beside him, each time you made love.
He had you on a chokehold, and he wasn’t there to release his hands on you.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Banner rummaging through something in the storage closet.
“You can’t leave without some real useful gadgets. Here,” He put it on the table and gestured you to open up the safe.
You opened it up cautiously, only to find several cubes slotted safely in the protection cushion. Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion.
“What are these?” You asked, as you picked one up, surprised at how heavy it was.
“These are nanotechnological gadgets. They take forms as these tiny cubes until activated. The one you’re holding right there is a jet pack. Could be quite useful if you have to travel by far.” He explained. He then carefully picked up an earpiece with his hulk hands, “All you gotta do is wear this which is connected to all of them and call out after its given name, ‘Genesis’, for an activation.”
You nodded and took the earpiece into your ear. You looked into the little mirror on the table and saw that it suddenly shifted colour to match your own skin colour. You gasped, impressed by how well it blended. It was as if it wasn’t there.
Bruce laughed, “Isn’t that neat? That’s some ‘James Bond’ stuff right there. Another bonus is even if you loose them, they’ll transport themselves over to your location if you give that order. You can figure out what the rest of these are for by yourself.” He pointed at the other cubes and closed the safe. “Think it’ll be more fun for you that way.”
You chuckled, before a thought came to mind as you realized the suitcase was under the Stark industries trademark. “These were Mr. Stark’s though, weren’t they?…I couldn’t possibly take them.”
“It’s cool, I took part in creating these. I’m sure if he was still here with us right now, he’d lend one of his iron suits. Unfortunately I don’t have access to those as they are under Pepper’s name and all. I can only offer the things I have in the lab.” He said with an apologetic shrug.
Your eyes widened and you immediately shook your head, “Oh, no these will absolutely do! Thank you so much Bruce! I owe you a big one.”
He laughed. “Sure thing, kid. Now, let’s get started on this time traveling so you can kick America’s ass.”
You were up on the Time Heist machine with the safe and a backpack full of essentials, giving Bruce a final wave goodbye before you were swirled into the quantum realm for a nanosecond and into the past.
You were suddenly in an empty street corner of what you could presume was somewhere downtown New York. The town looked like it was in its fetus stage as you made your way to the Main Street, with barely any skyscrapers coming to view.
The team suit transformed and gave you conservative clothing, one that could pass as casual for women to wear during the 40s to 50s. There were young boys running around, selling the newest flyer to the curious adults, and posters promoting drafting were hung up on every light pole.
For some reason, you weren’t receiving any data of what time you had appeared in, but you could only guess it was the mid 40s based on your current surroundings.
Nervously you met the eyes of busy women and men who you passed by, not being mentally prepared for the social aspects of being in a time period of which your grandparents were probably living their early years of their youth. You were already feeling uncanny from knowing how out of place you were, but you could only remind yourself that this was just a quick visit to give Steve a piece of your mind.
“Genesis, I would like to have access of all governmental archives mentioning Steve’s proximities at this current time period.”
Genesis gave you multiple suggestions, but the primarily suspected location of Steve’s current whereabouts was a military base in Port Jervis.
2 and a half hour train ride? Not bad at all.
It sounded a lot better than using the jet pack, especially when other options were available.
You walked in a phone booth and unlocked the safe, reading through the functions to find what you were looking for.
“Genesis, I’d like to unlock the printer and print 20 US dollars and a fake ID card registered under military record, please.”
“Amy Preston from Newsburgh military base, is that right?” You nodded in response to the soldier who was checking your ID by the gate of Port Jervis military base. “What brings you here?” He asked.
“I have a couple of errands to run in connection with the mission in planning, sir.” You explained, as you straightened your military uniform and rested your elbows on the front desk. “The Howling commandos will be sent to Italy to infiltrate Hydra bases, and we may have some input of several coordinations which suggests where else they are hiding.” You reached out the documents which were actually accurate future knowledge.
You could tell the soldier was anything but focused on the papers though as he eyed your breasts through your clothes which you were firmly squeezing together to give off your sex appeal.
He cleared his throat and only took a few glances at the papers before returning them to you. “Alright ma’am, you may pass. Hope you have a pleasant stay with us while you’re here.” He said smugly, and winked at you before you carried on. You could only fake a smile until he was out of sight, your face pulling one of disgust.
The base was large, reaching as far as up to a hill. Vehicles were creating a traffic by the gate with several soldiers sitting on the open back trunks.
Some whistled at you as you walked past them, but you could care less of giving them your time of day. Your eyes scanned the area with interest for the one man you were looking for.
You walked around for a good half an hour, sneaking into tents to see if any of the men in there were Steve, but you had no such luck of spotting him. Then, as you walked though the weapon supplies area, a familiar face came to view. You saw Dum Dum Dogan talking to a fellow soldier, the man who after Steve’s presumed death would become the new leader of the Howling commandos. He was one of Steve’s close friends during the war. He had told you as such himself.
He has to be somewhere close then.
You reached the corner of a huge tent, and that was when you halted your steps. You had found him.
There he was. Carrying on with his duties as if he had never been frozen in ice for 70 years, become a beloved hero of the 21st century and captured your heart, promising a future as lovers only to break it and leave you behind.
He stood there, talking to Jim Morita, yet another one of his soldier buddies with what looked like a map as they were discussing something.
Your head boiled with fury, the sight of him alone making you want to scream your heart out.
I might just do that actually, You thought.
Fuck it.
“Steven Grant Rogers, — you piece of absolute garbage!” You called out after him, saying his name with pure venom.
Steve immediately turned to where his name had been called, completely dumbfounded as you stormed towards him, your steps firm as you kept your form tall and straight. The soldier excused himself and walked away, leaving more privacy to whatever this would be about.
“You really thought it would be this easy, didn’t you? That you could leave your girlfriend of 4 fucking years without as much as a goodbye? An explanation? An apology?” You spat at his face.
“Pardon, ma’am, I don’t think I follow -“
“Oh, shut up and cut the bullshit! You left me! Without a word! How could you?!” You shouted, your face flaring up with the pent up anger you had waited to release on him for 2 years. “You left for another woman who you hadn’t seen for decades and you thought I’d be okay with it? Because I’ll have you know I was not and am still not over what you did to me! After everything we’ve been through together, and you left it all, — like it meant nothing! Fuck You!”
Soldiers around the area were subtly following the the interaction from afar, some even snickering as the Captain was being told off by some woman who they could only assume was one of his many fangirls making a fit.
Steve looked around, embarrassed and confused as he sighed and said, “Please refrain from using that kind of language, there’s really no need to cuss at me when I don’t even know you. You must be mistaking me for someone else... ”
You saw Steve swallow, clearly getting agitated from your confrontation. You frowned at his mannerism. What was up with him?
Steve usually never showed nervousness and was good at keeping his composure.
You blinked, “What do you mean?….You really don’t know who I am?”
“No, I really don’t…no offense of course, but I’m pretty sure I would remember the face of my own girlfriend, - since that’s what you claimed to be earlier anyway…” he said with a sheepish smile.
You were frozen with disbelief.
“What month and year is it?”
“November, 1944, ma’am. Why?”
Wait…
Wait a moment…
Oh shit.
“So you don’t -…you aren’t my…”
You didn’t even want to complete that sentence as you knew there was no use. This was in fact not your Steve. You hadn’t considered how it wouldn’t be convenient for Steve to go in a time where his past self was still living.
Steve must have obviously travelled back after his past self got trapped in the Arctic. And now your last chance of having a talk with your Steve was put on a major stall because the time machine decided to be a real ass and send you the year before past Steve goes missing in the Arctic.
Actually it wasn’t technically in a year’s time, but 4 months since Steve would go on that mission and land the Hydra ship in February of 1945, 7 months before the war ends, - but still.
You had no idea at how long of a time you would have to wait for him regardless. You were internally having a meltdown, all the while Steve was standing there, not sure of what to make out of the whole interaction.
“Ma’am?…Are you feeling okay?” Steve asked with worry, his face tilted as he studied your empty expression.
You gulped and slowly nodded your head. “Erm…yeah, I’m fine…I just…” you shook your head dismissively as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Actually, no. I’m not fine. At all. This is so bad. Worst part is I can’t even talk to you about it because you, - you don’t even know me yet. You don’t, - shit.” You cursed as tears were building up in your eyes.
You looked away as you began taking a few steps back, not wanting to showcase the misery you have kept in for so long and weren’t able to release because the right man wasn’t in front of you.
“Hey, don’t cry…I’m sure whatever you’re going through, you’ll find a way to solve it…” Steve tried to console as best as he could. He had frowned at the part where you had mentioned you couldn’t tell him because he didn’t know you ‘yet’, which left him to assume you were having a mental breakdown, or was simply confused.
Meanwhile in your mind, you were thinking of what you should do. You were figuring out how you were going to make this whole mission worthwhile, - if maybe you should tell him everything so you could get answers from him. After all, you were talking to the Steve who had fresh memories of the woman who he apparently loved more than you.
He was still Steve, but yet it didn’t feel right to put the heat on him as he had none of the experiences your Steve had. You felt stuck.
40s Steve POV
The woman’s lack of response in contrast to when she first came up to me left me concerned. My first assumption was she had some kind of mental illness. I couldn’t make any sense of what she had said to me, apart from knowing my full name.
“Ma’am, if you’d let me, I’ll take you to get help from the medical committee. It’s at the center of this base, -“
“I’m not sick, Steve!” She interrupted with frustration.
I flinched, not expecting for her to go full volume with her voice again.
“I-I apologize, I didn’t mean to insinuate you were…” I stuttered, and looked around again to see eyes were still on us from a distance. “Look, if you’d like to talk, we should maybe move somewhere else more…private. I would appreciate not attracting a crowd…”
She sighed and closed her eyes for a brief moment before she nodded in agreement. “Let’s.”
I took her with me to an unoccupied office where we could have a private talk about whatever she wanted to tell me. Her face maintained a pondering look, as if she was thinking about how to put words into sentences.
I could already tell I was in for more confusion.
“I came here to talk to you, but not you. I don’t, - I’m not sure how and if I should explain it…you’re not my Steve Rogers.” She said the last part in a whisper, but I heard it very clearly due to my enhanced hearing.
This dame is absolutely out of her mind, I thought.
“Then let’s begin with me pointing something out. You’re dressed in uniform, but you’re clearly not from our base. You’re missing a Howling commando pin on both sides of your suit. In fact, I don’t think you work for the military at all considering you’re missing a US star patch on your right arm.”
I didn’t miss the way she cursed under her breath as she looked up again to respond. “I had it on when I dressed up,…guess it was by pure luck I got in. I’m not surprised though. That soldier by the gate was practically checking me out.”
I didn’t expect her to be humorous, and she earned a chuckle from me as I wasn’t too surprised to hear that. Many soldiers were unfortunately too distracted in their male gaze.
“Of course. So, where are you from then? Did someone send you? Are you a spy?” I asked, and narrowed an eye with suspicion.
“No. — I mean, I guess I could say I sent myself if that counts.” She answered with a shrug.
I shook my head, unamused by this woman’s game. “If you’re not going to be serious about this, I’ll have to send you in for temporary arrest and have you interrogated by a professional. It’s illegal for you to be here, you know.” I held her arm, to which she immediately protested by shaking her arm off.
“No need to have me on your grip. It’s not like I can outrun you anyway. You can run a mile in a minute.”
I crossed my arms, caught off guard that she was being factual about my physique, though no information of it had been released to the public from my knowledge. “How did you know that?”
“I know a lot of things about you, - because I was your fiancé.“ she said, as if it was the obvious.
“Okay,” I sighed and decided to play along for a little bit more. “If we are that close, tell me something no one else knows about me.”
She bit the inside of her cheek as she took a minute to think. For a moment I thought she didn’t have anything more to say. I turned around and wiped my eyes from drowsiness, until she opened her mouth again and said something that would completely shift the atmosphere;
“A strong heart will take you further than any physical strength. A strong heart means you'll never quit. —”
I stiffened, my face immediately turning to look at her, my focus not shifted on anything else anymore.
“— Sarah. Your mother said that to you before she died of tuberculosis in 1936.”
My stomach dropped when her eyes met mine again. I took steps forward, my face only inches away as my glare drilled into hers.
My jaw ticked as my eyebrows narrowed, my hands landing on her shoulder to not have her move away.
“How do you know that? Who are you?”
Her lips quirked a smile as she leaned in and said, “I’ve already told you. I was your fiancé, -
From the future anyway.”
N/A: First part of a 4-5 part series! Already working on part 2 & 3, so this should go somewhat smoothly. >:)
Also fuck Endgame!Steve, am I right?
Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3