#at least that’s what they reminded me of

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

Reverse isekai... Caleb... Cat...

Caleb loved you more than anything in this world. 

Or at least, that's what you would've liked to imagine if he was real. But he isn't. And you're not in a pixelated little world called Linkon City and none of your hopes and dreams about having a happily ever after with your military husband and childhood best friend were coming true. 

You stared at the fanfic left open on the phone screen, wishing to see your husband in your dreams to ease the ache of loving someone you could never have while in your loneliest moments. 

If only he could be real. If only he could become real from Astra knows what power and fall in love all over again. With you this time instead of the MC who seemed to resemble anything but you. If only. Too much to ask for, yes, you know. 

No, he wasn't real, and no, he wasn't there to fall in love with you as you did with him. And you had your own life to live and work to do and tough times to get through on your own tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. 

So, leaving you no other choice, you drifted off to sleep as the delusion shattering ache in your heart seeped in.

-

It was raining. You opened up your umbrella next to the entrance of your workplace, greeting your coworkers goodbye. You were tired. Your brain was fried from working since morning and you felt like the walking dead. 

The thoughts of cooking something up for dinner made you feel like flopping down on the sidewalk you were walking on and passing out. You had the free will to do that, of course, but the rain pitter pattering along with your dragged steps only reminded you of all the cleaning you would have to do after practicing your so-called free will. 

The street lights turned on and you continued onward, just a block away from your home. 

As you walked by an alleyway, your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the sound of metal clashing onto the ground. You froze, holding your breath as you turned around. 

You waited. 

One beat. Two beats. 

Nothing. 

And then, there it was again, the sound of something thuding around. 

Without thinking, you made your way towards the source of the sound, your heart bearing in your ears. A dumpster came into view. 

Something, or someone, seemed to be struggling inside. You called out. 

“Hello..? Is anyone in there..?” Your voice trembled. 

No reply.

You slowly got close to the dumpster and opened the cover with shaking hands. 

Widened blue-pink eyes with a pair of black ears and tail stared up at you through the piles of garbage. 

“What the fuck?”

-

The cat jumped out of your hold as soon as you entered your home, shaking off water from its fur and scampering away from you as fast as it could while you were struggling to put down the wet umbrella. 

“Okay, rude? I bring you home with me to avoid the guilty conscience that would follow tomorrow if I found you dead from the cold somewhere and you pay me off by drenching my floorboards!”

You let out a frustrated sigh. 

He silently watched you from a corner of the room as you made your way to the kitchen island to wash off your hands. 

“Make yourself at home, I guess..” You mumbled, more to yourself than to him. 

I have a cat in my apartment. What now? 

-

First and foremost, it was bathtime. You were NOT about to let a stinky ass wet fur ball run around your home. 

You tried to pick him up again but he bolted around the living room, paw pads making skittering noises in the process.

After about 10 minutes of running around, you gave up, standing defeated. You called out to him as a last resort. 

“I just want to give you a bath. Please.”

“Mreow!” He protested, sitting on top of the kitchen island. 

“Fine. Whatever. Live with the stink all you want. I'm tired and you're taking up my gaming time.” You rolled your eyes. 

Maybe leaving him alone for a while will ease him a little.. You hoped. 

And so, you turned around and sat down on the couch with the TV remote in hand, ready to open YouTube and rewatch the same goddamn trailer for the 100th time. 

[Love and Deepspace | Caleb's Trailer]

-

He didn't know how he ended up here. One moment he was feeling immense, needle pricking pain across his entire body, the next he was in a dumpster. With paws instead of hands. And the world seemed thrice as large and intimidating. 

Well, At least I have shelter from the rain for now.. Though I feel like a wet rat. 

He watched the girl settle down on the couch. 

I wonder how long I can stay here. I need to figure things out..

Then, he heard something that caught his eye. 

“What, you don't recognize me?”

He stared at the video playing on the TV screen. 

“Did you honestly think I would always be the kind hearted boy from your childhood?”

His ears perked up, all pointy, and his eyes widened. 

That's me. 

He watched as the figure on the screen bit an apple as lightning flashed in the background. 

That. Is. Me. On the TV. 

A/N: Interest check? Very self indulgent... Kinda, sorta, really wanna turn this into a one-shot fic maybe... Haha.. Ha.. But I'll have to play through all the content released in the past few months.. 😭

Wrote this half asleep someone bonk me to sleep please

[maskedbyghost]

Simon clearly doesn’t understand what divorce means because, despite the legal paperwork saying otherwise, he seems to think he's still your guardian, shadow, or both. When he heard about your date with a co-worker, he didn’t just crash the restaurant—he made himself comfortable at the bar, stared daggers at your date, and casually ordered a drink like he wasn’t blatantly stalking you. Your poor date barely lasted ten minutes before bolting, muttering something about “unfinished business.”

Then there was the time you came home from work to find your trash cans neatly pulled to the curb—except it wasn’t trash day yet. When you checked the security camera, there he was, in full tactical gear, shaking his head at your "lack of preparedness."

One morning, you woke up to the sound of a drill. Groggy and confused, you stumbled into the living room to find Simon installing reinforced locks on your windows. “Your security’s a joke,” he said, ignoring the fact that you hadn’t asked for his help—or even let him in.

Another time, he called you at 2 a.m., claiming he’d “heard something” outside your house. You told him it was probably the wind, but when you checked the window, his truck was parked across the street. He waved like this was completely normal.

He’s also developed a habit of showing up when you least expect it: at the dog park (despite not having a dog), the grocery store (silently restocking your cart with “essentials” you didn’t ask for), and even at your gym, where he once offered to “spot” you during your workout.

His most unhinged moment, though, had to be the time you came home to find your fridge fully stocked with all your favorite foods—even the fancy yogurt you only buy on payday. At first, you thought you’d forgotten a shopping trip, but the security footage told a different story: Simon, lugging in bags of groceries, meticulously organizing your shelves like he was running a cooking show. When you confronted him about it, he just said, “You’ve been skipping meals. Thought I’d help.”

And when you dared to bring up boundaries, he just shrugged, looking genuinely confused. “You don’t stop caring about someone just because of some papers,” he said, as if that justified breaking into your house, fixing your roof, or leaving a bouquet of wildflowers on your porch “because they reminded me of you.”

-------------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[evilvillain123456789]

im only attracted to a very specific gender presentation... and a very specific personality. they have to remind me of my mother's sharp gaze and my father's dull intellect, with the gaming acumen of my worst uncle and the neuroses of my favorite aunt. i also have a soft preference for true hermetic androgynes, but thats negotiable. what's a hard limit is that i can only have sex with someone if we have spent at least a decade in a state of both psychological and quantum entanglement, but have never physically met before. this is for the best since my personal odor is enough to scare most partners away for good... if you do decide you want to get it on with me then for personal reasons our carnal union must occur during a new moon when venus is exalted in an ascendant virgo. my profound mental illness requires me to remain ignorant of the mechanics of sex so i have to be disoriented through a combo of sensory deprivation and psychological gaslighting during the proceedings, which makes me a bit of a "pillow princess"-- although i like to feel like im running things regardless .. oh and i don't know how to JO uncircumcised 🍆

[ipsomaniac]

argh this moment is so sad but also makes me boggle at the skill of the directors and animators. such smart framing and body language for the purpose of hurting meeee.

Earlier in the scene when Viktor emerges from the hex-cocoon we don't see his body as a whole; we get a bunch of close ups of various body parts. This works from a storytelling perspective - immediately showing us the enormity of his transformation - but also conveys Viktor's dehumanised perspective, self-alienation, and the disoriented proprioception he must be experiencing.

The first shot in this gifset is striking, showing Jayce's astonished face framed through Viktor's decontextualised arms. Viktor appears here as a depersonalised, geometric, monumental negative space, his metallic purple body contrasting with the warm golden tones of Jayce's skin. Jayce's humanness vs. Viktor's alienness highlighted through colour theory, framing, shape and scale.

Then we get an immediate flip of perspective when Viktor asks "What am I?": we see someone incredibly vulnerable. That momentary beseeching upwards glance, at the same time as we finally get a clear shot of him and are reminded of his former physical frailty. Although he's now metal and magic, he's still narrow-shouldered and pigeon-chested with the remnants of his brace etched permanently onto his skin. The camera angle is slightly above him, making him look even smaller.

Then the sequence of facial expressions after Jayce says, "You're alive." These animators man. The sweaty wired sleepless exhaustion, the disbelieving little eye-roll and delirious smile of relief, the flash of a pained expression as he goes up to hug Viktor. No trace of the Golden Boy, just a groggy human mess with a lot of feelings.

And that hug..... !!!!!! how could they do this. Both characters are in a state of (semi)-nudity. Viktor is naked and Jayce is topless save for his bandages. Leaving shipping aside, as a point of emotional storytelling it's important that this is full skin-on-skin contact - I think the first we see for these characters in the show. This is a moment of maximum vulnerability, it should be a moment of openness...

But it's all wrong!!! The body language is on stratospherically different wavelengths: the physical impact of Jayce colliding with Viktor, how his naive exhuberence contrasts with Viktor's reserve, how he unintentionally dwarfs and smothers Viktor in the hug. For Jayce the hug is a pure, unselfconscious expression of emotion; whereas Viktor looks like he's drowning, his elbow awkwardly jutting out, his arm a symbolic barrier between them.

Then some of the saddest facial expressions in the show I think. You can basically see Viktor's gears turning as he processes the hug, you get this momentary eyebrow raise as he analyses his own perceptions and then this absolutely heartbreaking sequence of expressions while he raises his hand to Jayce's shoulder for the last embrace they will share until their deaths. Up for interpretation what exactly is going through Viktor's mind here but I imagine the hug is a catalyst for him to realise how profoundly alienated he is from his humanity and former perspective, and what that means for his partnership with Jayce. His physical senses feel different; there's a *recursive impulse* where his emotions used to be; a claustrophobic compulsion to get out of the suffocating embrace of Piltover politics and human messiness that Jayce represents. He's got to leave. But it pains him, at least momentarily. He registers the loss of himself through the loss of Jayce. You see his face contort and for a very brief second it looks like he's grieving. I think this is the last proper emotion he shows in the physical realm.

And then the rest of the scene is maybe even worse tbh but more so through dialogue. Here what strikes me is the sheer genius of the framing and animation. Arcane goes so crazy on colour, composition and micro-expressions and it's used to great effect in this scene. anyway

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x02 - “Watch It All Burn”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Barter 2

Warnings: suggestions of death, I am a dark blog and I write dark things.

Summary: You are bargained to be wife to the witcher if he can slew the beast in the village.

Character: Geralt of Rivia

**note, I am not a Witcher genius or aficionado and so I may get some things wrong.

As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! 😍

You watch the witcher set off into the fog from between the slats of the barn. It’s been a fortnight crammed into the space. The stench has faded to something tolerable but the tension hasn’t. 

The now orphaned maiden clings to your arm. That’s what she is now. The man in black all but confirmed it. His horse tramps off into oblivion without hesitation as he sits tall in his saddle, disappearing into the haze. You sit back as your companion sniffles. 

“They’re dead? All of them?” 

“It would seem,” you sigh and lean on the wall.  

Your sister was a sweet girl but even before the revelation, you had little hope. Especially as your mother went to search and did not return. Your father has only you and your brother left. Marsh is a child still but he will grow into his legacy, so long as you father lasts that long. 

“How could this happen to us? Why Krescent? We are a good pious village,” she whines, her sniveling grating your addled nerves. 

“Bad things happen to all, regardless of prayers,” you resign. 

“That is blaspheme,” she accuses. 

“It is the truth. It has happened to all in the wretched place. And if this witcher should be able to slay the evil, then I too shall walk off to my own doom, only a living one.” 

She looks at you with her watery eyes. They are such a pale shade of green that they look almost yellow. She always reminded you of a swampy witch, the ones in the stories you whispered so the elders did not hear. 

“I suppose...” she begins, “marriage is destined to all. It shouldn’t be such a surprise.” 

“To him?” You wonder grimly. “Perhaps, at least, I will be away from this cursed land, that I should not look upon it and think of my...” your voice catches as the witcher’s words crash upon you. Your legs buckle and you slide down the wall and fold against your knees. “They truly are gone.” 

Caralyn mops away her tears as she kneels at your side. Your own eyes do not weep though your chest concaves. You brace your head as your elbows rest on your knees. You take a deep breath. 

“My father did not protest,” you murmur. “He is too dumbed without my mother to do anything.” You look at her, still hunched, “you must promise to look after Marsh.” 

“I promise,” she avows and brushes your sleeve softly. “I will keep him close to my own brothers and sisters, now that it is up to me to see to them.” 

You nod and frown deeper, “I’m deeply sorry for your parents, Caralyn. They were always so kind.” 

“So kind, I do wonder why it should be them instead of me,” her eyes spring with tears again and she lowers herself to her bottom. She wipes her nose messily and heaves.  

You wring your hands. You wonder the same of your mother and sister. How can it be that Lessa would wander off and you would be left behind to miss her. Your mother was always the order in your life and now it is chaos. 

Along with grief, is more terror. What should happen should the fogler, or whatever he called, it not desist? What if the witcher were to defeat the monster? Should he really claim your hand? A wife?  

Caralyn is right, it is not great surprise to be wed. It is a young woman’s fate but this... what sort of wife can you be to someone like him. The tainted. The sort spat upon at even the lowest tavern. 

“He was not... hideous,” Caralyn suggests as if reading your thoughts. 

You scrunch your nose at her, “how he looks is the least of my woes.” 

“Tall. Strong.” She offers. 

“Car, stop,” you chide. 

“You must... must try to hearten,” she shifts closer so her legs touch yours and she leans a little, as if to comfort you. “As our mothers would always tell us, we must be good wives one day. No matter who. I’m certain if you prove a good loyal wife, he would not treat you as one of his beasts.” 

You stare at her and hum. She is not incorrect. You were never to choose your husband so it should be that it doesn’t matter so much who it is. Only that you serve him well. 

“A man is a man, even if witcher he be,” she declares. 

[impish-baby]

I'm so glad you're alright! Take all the time you need and take care of yourself! I would like to request a fic on a vampire couple and their kidnapped adopted kiddo who can regress into a very small headspace? Like about 0-5? Thank you for your time and do make sure to drink some water today, these days are kinda hot.

Vampire Dad Caregivers x recently turned! Reader Drabble - 🍼🦇

"Oh, I know, I know, little one.." Thoren, moving his fledgling to be cradled against his chest. Quiet echos go through the bond of hungry, hungry, hungry. How cute. But the most precious of all is the occasional love, love, sire.

You had been such a fierce thing at first, clawling and scratching at anything you could reach. Just a misguided child not knowing what's good for them, you're sure to thank both your fathers for taking you under their wings after you've come to your senses a little more. He's certain of that.

Thoren knows that won't be for a long while though, you're nothing more than a fresh babe born into a new world.

"Here.." Your fangs are still coming in, he bites his own wrist before holding it up to your mouth for you to drink from. "There, darling, papa will make sure your belly is full so you can grow up to be a big scary vampire like him." A chuckle, "well, maybe not that scary, I don't think something as cute as you could even frighten a mouse."

It really is adorable watching you eat, if only you wouldn't yank his hair.

"Now, sweetheart.." Thoren grunts, gently trying to pry your hand away from the lock threatening to be pulled from his head. "That's not nice, is it? We don't pull Papa's hair, it hurts." His mother wasn't lying when she said babies can have a ridiculous amount of strength when they want to, your hand has a death grip on him.

"My love, would you fancy a bit of help?"

Rune's lithe figure rises from a shadow dancing along the wall, gracefully coming over to the bed. "You should be wiser than having your hair down around that little devil."

"Don't scold me." Thoren sighs with relief when his partner manages to get his hair free and ties it back for him. Thank the gods. "I thought I'd be safe for one feeding."

"Right.." Rune giggles, stealing you out of the other vampire's arms. "Pup, you have to bully your Papa while I'm here so I can laugh at him! Come on, we're partners in crime, aren't we?" He presses a plethora of kisses across your cheeks, a wide grin splitting his face as you squeal at the sudden affection. "Come on, we can play a little before it's naptime."

(A/N: I hope this was ok, anon!! It's actually freezing where I live- (at least it feels that way.. most of the year it's 110+ here) but thank you for the reminder, I do need to drink more water! ^^)

[hsnlv]

together | p.js

pairing: husband!jay x fem!reader

synopsis: after months of sleepless nights with your fussy five-month-old, you finally break down, overwhelmed by exhaustion and guilt. jay, your ever-attentive husband, steps in with gentle words, warm hugs, and playful humor, reminding you you’re the best mom and wife. he promises to give you the rest you deserve, proving he’s always your safe haven.

warnings/others: mention of miscarriage, usage of nickname (angel, baby), jay is sickeningly sweet and gentle :(

wc: 946

a/n: hehe my first jay fic is here😋 i hope you enjoy this as much as i do!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated💗 here’s my masterlist!

“jjongie…” you sigh as you step into the bedroom, your voice soft but so heavy with exhaustion it pulls jay’s attention immediately. he glances up from his spot against the headboard, closing his laptop and placing it on the bedside table without hesitation. his eyes scan your face, already concerned.

“yes, angel?” his voice is gentle as he beckons you closer. “is little princess asleep?”

you nod, your lips curling slightly at the nickname. lia, your five-month-old daughter, has been nothing short of a miracle in your lives—a beacon of light after the darkness of your miscarriage. but tonight, even the thought of her sweet little face can’t ease the ache in your body.

“yeah,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes. “but it took forever. she’s so fussy lately.”

jay notices the tiredness in your voice, the way your shoulders droop as if you’re carrying the weight of the world. “come here,” he says softly, patting the space next to him. but instead of joining him, you stop in the middle of the room, your voice trembling.

“i’m tired, jay.”

he blinks, momentarily confused. “then you should go to sleep, angel.”

it’s clear he doesn’t quite understand what you mean, and those simple words—well-meaning as they are—are enough to tip you over the edge. you sink to the floor as your body gives in, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face. you try to hold it back, but the sobs come anyway, shaking your small frame.

“angel!” jay’s voice is alarmed, and in an instant, he’s off the bed and kneeling in front of you. his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you effortlessly as if you weigh nothing. he settles you on the bed, cradling you in his lap like you’re something fragile and precious.

“what’s wrong, baby?” his voice is soft, his hand gently stroking your hair. “talk to me. is it lia?”

the mention of your daughter makes your tears fall harder, guilt and exhaustion crashing down on you all at once. you manage a small nod, burying your face in his chest as he holds you tighter.

“she’s just so fussy,” you choke out between sobs. “she cries if i put her down, she doesn’t want to sleep, she needs me constantly. and—and i can’t get anything done. the house is a mess, the laundry is piling up, and i just… i feel like i’m failing her. like i’m failing you.”

jay’s heart aches as he listens, guilt washing over him for not noticing just how overwhelmed you’ve been. he cups your face gently, tilting your chin so you’re looking at him. his thumbs wipe away your tears as his warm eyes meet yours.

“don’t you ever say that again,” he says firmly, his voice steady but kind. “you are not failing anyone, least of all me or lia. you’re the most amazing mom and the most amazing woman. i mean it, angel. lia is so lucky to have you, and so am i.”

“but you do so much too,” you whisper, sniffling. “you help with her, with the house, with everything. i should be able to handle this.”

jay shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “baby, we’re a team. it’s not your job to ‘handle’ everything by yourself. and if it feels like i’ve let you down, i’m so sorry. i’ve been so caught up in work, but that’s no excuse. i should’ve noticed how hard it’s been for you.”

he kisses your temple next, then your damp cheeks, his lips lingering as if trying to kiss away all your worries. “from now on, we’re doing this together, okay? every late-night feeding, every diaper blowout, every fussy day. you’re not alone in this, angel.”

“but what if i can’t?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

jay smiles softly, his forehead pressing against yours. “you can. and when you feel like you can’t, i’ll be here to remind you that you can. we’ll figure it out together.”

before you can protest further, jay scoops you up bridal style, making you squeak in surprise. “jay! what are you doing?”

“taking care of my angel,” he replies, grinning as he carries you to the bed. “you take care of everyone else—it’s my turn.”

he lays you down gently, tucking the blanket snugly around you. then he slides in beside you, pulling you into his arms. “tomorrow, i’m taking lia to my parents’ house,” he announces as though it’s already set in stone.

your eyes widen. “what? jay, you don’t have to—”

“shh, no arguments,” he interrupts, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “you deserve a break. you’re spending the entire day doing whatever you want—sleeping, eating, watching trashy reality shows. and if you don’t, i’ll personally bribe you with massages and… maybe a shopping spree.”

you let out a watery laugh, and jay’s grin grows. “there she is,” he says, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “there’s my pretty wife.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you mumble, though your cheeks warm at his words.

“and you love me for it,” he counters, smirking. “seriously, angel, let me spoil you tomorrow. you’ve earned it. you deserve it.”

his arms tighten around you, his warmth and steady heartbeat already easing your nerves. “you’re the strongest, most beautiful person i know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair. “and i’m so, so grateful for you.”

you close your eyes, the exhaustion finally giving way to peace. as you drift off, you hear jay whisper one last thing, his voice soft and full of love.

“you’ll always be my number one, angel. now and forever.”

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2025

[kdollikesthighs]

Take what you want and go: part 1

Itzy Ryujin x m reader This part is all fluff, no smut here yet. Later parts will have smut, so stick around for that? I'm starting projects and working on them piece by piece. If I don't post them, I end up revising them ad infinitum. Word count: 1,664 words.

This isn’t your usual Friday night. Music pumping loud, a relentless beat that fights against the one in your chest. The air in the club is thick with sweat, perfume, alcohol and disgusting desperation. Some of those stenches belonging to you. People grinding into each other like they’re trying to forget something. Or Everything. You’re not here to forget, though. Not tonight.

You’ve been working the same old fashioned for an hour now. You’re not here to get wasted. Your eyes are skimming the room, catching glimpses of silhouettes. Shadows dance, giving way to partially revealed faces, none of them familiar— Until they are.

Ryujin.

She’s standing on the edge of the dance floor, her light skin reflecting against her dark clothes. She’s dressed in a black waving top that drapes over her matching black shorts, clinging to her like they were made for her body, a faint sheen of sweat glinting on her exposed abdomen under the neon lights. Her hair falls in sharp, intentional waves, and her lips curl into a smirk as she tilts her head towards someone leaning too fucking close. 

It’s been weeks since you last saw her. Weeks since she walked out of your apartment and left you staring at a closed door. You tried getting over her. So far, no success. Seeing her now, with that same effortless confidence and thrilling presence… it was no wonder you kept failing.

She hasn’t noticed you yet, or maybe she has and just doesn’t care. Her attention is on the person next to her. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You’re not here to intervene. You’re just here to see her, to remind yourself you're better off without her.

At least, that’s the lie you keep repeating to yourself. If you repeat it enough, you might end up believing it.

When Ryujin finally does look your way, it feels like the music is going on mute. Her eyes lock on yours, and for a single moment, the chaos of the club seems to fade into nothingness. Her smile drops, just barely, before returning to its original state, this time sharper. Calculated.

You know what’s happening. You should look away. You should finish your drink, leave the club, and never come back. But you don’t. You can’t.

Her dancefloor parasite says something, and Ryujin laughs. But her gaze keeps flicking back to yours, a challenge in her expression. “You’re here, aren’t you? Are you going to come to me, or are you going to keep pretending you don’t care?”

You’re hesitant, but her eyes always spur you on toward things you can’t control. You’re pushing through the crowd, the music getting louder and more obnoxious with each step to the dancefloor. Lifting your feet gets harder and harder as you close the distance between you and her.

When you’re finally close enough to appreciate the way her clothes are hugging her curves, she turns to face you fully, dismissing her companion with a clear gesture. They linger for a moment before disappearing back into the crowd, leaving the two of you standing face to face.

“Well, well,” Ryujin says, her voice smooth and teasing, clearly lying. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

She’s already getting on your nerves. She left, why is she being so casual? You should be screaming at eachother. Somehow, you manage to keep your calm. “Didn’t think you’d be here either.”

She shrugs, leaning against a nearby pillar with the kind of casual grace that always made her feel untouchable. “Seems you don’t know me that well after all.”

There’s a challenge in her words now. You’ve fallen for it too many times before. She’s baiting you, testing your resolve, and you hate that it’s working.

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” you say, glancing toward the dance floor where her companion disappeared. The words come out sharper than you intended, but you don’t take them back.

Ryujin arches an eyebrow, her lips transforming into an amused smile. “Jealous?”

“No,” you lie. A bit too quickly. You can’t even convince yourself.

She steps closer, the space in between you gradually disappearing. You can smell the faint trace of her perfume. It’s familiar. It’s the one she used to wear when she was desperate for a night of fucking you.

“You sure about that?” she asks, her voice dropping low, her mouth getting closer to your ear as the words exit her mouth and enter your brain.

You don’t answer. You can’t. For a moment, you let yourself take her in—the sharp line of her jaw, the glint of mischief in her eyes. She’s everything you’ve been trying to forget, and seeing her now, you can’t help but want her back.

Your next words lack conviction. As if not daring to say it to her, but talking to yourself about her. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say finally.

Her smile softens, just barely, and you see something vulnerable in her expression. But then it’s gone, as quickly as it appeared.

“Neither should you.”

“I missed you,” she says suddenly, the words low enough that you almost don’t catch them.

For a second, you wonder if she means it, or if it’s just another game. But the look in her eyes—the way they soften, just slightly—tells you it’s real. It feels mean, her admitting something like this. Spiteful.

You missed her too. You want to say it too. You want to reach out, pull her close, and forget about everything that’s been keeping you apart. It’s impossible.

Instead, you take a step back, the weight of her words settling heavy in your chest. “You don’t get to say that,” you struggle to accuse her.

Ryujin straightens facing you, vengeance painting her smirk. “Maybe not,” she says, her tone rich with defiance. “But I said it anyway.”

Does she want you to laugh? To cry? She’s always been like this… unapologetic, reckless, and impossible to pin down. It’s what drew you to her in the first place. That’s what makes her so damn hard to let go of. It’s… unhealthy.

“Enjoy your night, Ryujin,” you say, turning around and getting ready to move.

But before you can take even a single step, her hand catches your wrist, her grip firm like she can’t allow herself to let you leave. “Wait,” she says, her voice pleading. “Don’t go.”

You freeze. You want to run. You want to stay. You're torn between the two. You can’t help but turn back to her, against better judgement. There’s something in her eyes you can’t ignore. You could never ignore. It’s enough to make your resolve crumble.

“What is it?” you ask. There’s concern, but a hint of apprehension strains your voice.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she comes closer. Her hand brushes against your wrist again, lingering as though she’s unsure whether to pull you back or let you go. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, she looks like she’s struggling to find the words.

“Why do you make this so hard?” she murmurs. You can barely hear the exact words, but you understand their meaning.

You blink, caught off guard. Was this a joke? “Me?”

Her lips pressed together, forming a tiny thin line, and she shakes her head, exhaling a sharp sigh. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

But her hand doesn’t pull away. Her hand grips your wrist harder, a speechless contradiction to what her words were saying.

“Say it,” you inquire, her hand convincing you that you simply must know. The frustration she’s causing you impossible to ignore. “Whatever it is you’re trying so hard not to say, just spit it out, Ryujin.”

“You think you’re the only one who’s tired of this?” she says, biting back at your demands. “Of this endless back and forth? Like you’re the only one who’s hurting?”

Before you can even respond, she lets go of your wrist and takes a step back, the distance between you growing for the first time.

“You could’ve walked away a long time ago if you wanted to,” she continues, her tone colder now, defensive. “But you didn’t. So don’t stand there acting like this is all on me.”

“Ryujin—”

“No.” She cuts you off, her gaze narrowing down on you. “You keep showing up. Every single time. And then you get angry at me when I don’t give you what you want.”

Your jaw clenches at her provocations, her words pushing the exact buttons you’d hoped to avoid. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it?” she counters back to you, crossing her arms. For a moment, she looks like she’s about to say more, but then she takes a deep breath and shakes her head. Her voice softens a little, like she’s tired. “You can’t have it both ways. You don’t get to act like you care and then walk away whenever I get messy.”

You feel like you’re about to boil over, but you subdue it. “And what about you? You keep pulling me back in just to push me away again. What do you even want from me, Ryujin?”

Her lips part, and she looks like she might answer. Her eyes soften, and her eyebrows turn upwards in the center. Her expression is almost vulnerable. But as soon as she catches herself, she reverts it all. Re-establishing her guard.

“Forget it,” she says abruptly, turning away. “It doesn’t matter.”

And just like that, she walks off, leaving you standing there.

You watch her disappear into the crowd, your fists clenching at your sides. She always does this—gets under your skin, says just enough to make you question everything, and then leaves before you can get any answers.

But this time feels different. You’re not the same you were weeks ago. You won’t turn away. Just storm out in the other direction like you always did. You are getting a resolution today. You are not walking away this time.

[samoschier]

✧˖*°࿐ 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄

series masterlist

—𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎. now go stand in the corner (and think about what you did)

𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐚, 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦��𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐡

Trying to deal with the aftermath of your boyfriend cheating on you with your best friend is hard... But it becomes a little easier when the perfect opportunity for revenge suddenly presents itself.

You were done crying over Luke Hughes. Too many tears had been shed the night you broke up, and you refused to shed anymore— even when he was glued to the side of some girl you had never seen before, barely a month after your relationship ended.

It felt impossible to stop staring at the picture. Jack was the one that posted it, Luke wouldn’t dare, not when you still followed him. Or maybe he would, everything you thought you knew about the kind of person he was had been thrown out the window weeks ago.

Jack probably didn’t even realize that Luke was in the background, sitting next to some blonde girl with his arm thrown around her. She’s halfway into his lap and you hold back the urge to scoff.

“Okay, no.” Your phone is promptly snatched from your hand, and before you can react, your best friend has quickly turned it off and slid the phone into her pocket, just out of arm's reach. 

“Chelsea—” you sigh, exasperated.

“Absolutely not.” She stares you down with a look that’s eerily similar to that of a mother’s. “I will not allow you to stare at this picture and wallow in self pity while Luke Hughes is out there sticking his dick into anything that moves.”

“Don’t say his name.” You sink further into your bed, pulling up the hood of your too-big hoodie that had been stolen from your brother’s closet long ago. 

“I can’t believe you still follow him, and his brothers.” Chelsea shakes her head, speaking up again before you have a chance to defend yourself. “He’s lucky I haven’t strangled him already, especially after what he did.”

The reason behind your break up still lingers, and no matter how much you wish you could forget about it, you seem to be reminded of it at every corner. At least it was summer, and you wouldn't be subjected to seeing Luke Hughes every time you walked around campus.

Your eyes drift over to the cluster of pictures that decorates the space above your desk. There are noticeable gaps, empty squares of white that stick out like a sore thumb against the colorful collage. 

There had been photos there, ones of you and the girl that was supposed to be your best friend since kindergarten, ones of you and Luke throughout your relationship, until you ripped them down with tears in your eyes.

Even now it was still hard to believe that she could do that to you, that they could do that to you. It makes your body heave with exhaustion. You were so tired of feeling like this, so tired of the ache that ran rampant across your heart.

So tired of being the only one heartbroken meanwhile Luke was off in New Jersey with his brother having what seemed to be the time of his life. 

The sound of running water from the bathroom stopped, and you could hear as Luke stepped out of the shower. Right as he did, a ding! From his phone caught your attention.

“Luke!” You called out, “you got a text.”

“Will you read it for me?” He asked, voice muffled from behind the door.

Without responding, you lean over from your spot on his bed, reaching for his phone that’s face down against the nightstand. The screen lights up as you turn it over. The name that pops up on the screen makes you furrow your brows. Why was she texting Luke?

You type his password in before clicking on the message. Your face drops, and you can feel your heart beating so loudly in your chest that you can’t hear Luke call out your name from behind the bathroom door.

It doesn’t register in your head the first time you read it, you have to read it a second time, and even then it's hard to believe what the words on the screen say. 

“I know we’ve already talked about this and you don’t want to tell her but she deserves to know. I know you said that you guys were on a break, but it never should’ve happened. We never should’ve slept together and I feel horrible about it. So either tell her about it or I will.”

When Luke calls out your name for a second time, you hear it. He’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. 

He scrunches his face in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t say anything, can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you stand up, phone in hand before shoving it into his chest. He stumbles, clearly taken aback by it.

Luke’s brows furrow before taking a look at what’s on his phone that has you so upset. His face drops, and then the yelling starts.

“You don’t unders—”

“I swear to God, Luke, if you try and come up with an excuse right now I’m going to slap the shit out of you.” Your jaw clenched, a futile attempt to hold back the tears that are beginning to well up and blur your vision ever so slightly. 

You can’t even look at him, can’t stand the pleading look in his eyes. Though, it’s hard to tell whether he actually feels guilty about it, or if he’s just sorry he got caught. Everything you thought you knew about the kind of person he was feels different now.

“Just let me explain.”

Tears are falling down your cheeks at this point, but even now you can’t help but scoff. “Explain? Explain what?”

“How you fucked my best friend— a girl I’ve known since we were kids, and didn’t even have the decency to tell me.” The way Luke lowers his head, casting his eyes downward in shame does nothing but set you off. “Explain how I had to find out through a text?”

“Were you even going to tell me?

The question is followed by silence, which is an answer in itself. Luke won’t look at you, even though he’s the one who did it. He’s the one that made that decision, and he won’t even take accountability for it. 

“When did it happen?” You ask, and it makes Luke look up at you, face scrunched in confusion, like he couldn’t possibly understand why you would want to know the details of him sleeping with another girl.

It takes him a moment to gather his words. “Uh, it was over spring break, when I was in New Jersey.”

The room goes silent as you process what he’s told you. Your voice cracks when you finally speak up again. “This happened almost two months ago?”

Luke takes a moment to respond. “We were on a break, I didn’t think it was worth mention—”

You attempt a scoff. “Just because we were on a break doesn‘t give you the right to sleep with someone else, and the fact that you didn’t think it was worth mentioning is… astounding.” 

You search his face for any sign of guilt, and if it’s there you can’t seem to find it. He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t apologize, doesn’t beg for forgiveness, just stands and stares at you, like this whole situation is just an inconvenience for him. 

The sudden urge to leave washes over you, unable to look at Luke any longer. Before you know it, you’re grabbing all of your things, but Luke is quick to try and stop you.

“Come on, don’t leave, can’t we just—” he goes to grab your arm, but you yank yourself out of his grasp, tears still streaming down your face.

“No, Luke! We can’t do anything about this, there’s no coming back from sleeping with my best friend.” Your tone is accusatory, and you can’t bring yourself to stand there any longer, not caring about anything else that could possibly come from Luke Hughes’s mouth. You’re almost to the door when you realize that there’s one more thing you want to get off your chest. 

“I would’ve never done this to you.”

That was the last time you’d seen him. You’d gone straight home that night, letting Chelsea comfort you while you cried yourself to sleep. Luke brought your stuff over a few days later, per Chelsea’s request.

You refused to talk to him, even after he blew your phone up with messages, though none of them were an apology. He tried to talk Chelsea into letting him into your apartment so he could talk to you, but she was quick to slam the door in his face. 

When Hailey texted you, however, you were torn. Explaining that she was upset with how you found out and that it shouldn’t have been that way. Apologizing that it ever happened in the first place. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

Which brings you to now, coping with the aftermath that comes from no longer having a boyfriend or a best friend in your life. 

It’s two weeks before the start of your junior year, and you’re sitting on the couch watching a movie with Chelsea when you get a text. It makes you furrow your brows and you nudge Chelsea with your elbow, angling your phone so she can look at the screen.

She turns to you with a puzzled expression. “Why is Mark Estapa texting you?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I know they’re already back at school, so he must've just told them we broke up. I don’t know why Mark would be texting me about it though.”

Right as you finish your sentence, another text from him comes through, one that makes your eyebrows shoot to the sky. 

Hey, sorry to hear about you and Luke.

Feel free to hit me up if you ever need anything. 

The two of you turn to look at each other, Chelsea with a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh. No words are able to come out of your mouth when she takes your phone from you. She reads the text over again.

“Feel free to hit me up if you ever need anything?” Her mouth is agape, rereading the text once again like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. Chelsea laughs. “Oh, he wants you.”

You roll your eyes, reaching up to try and take your phone back but she holds it just out of reach. “No, he does not. He’s just being nice.”

Chelsea gives you a look. “No guy texts his homeboy’s ex after they break up just to be nice.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up, shaking your head at the girl, but the fun quickly ends when you realize she’s typing something. “Chelsea, what are you doing?”

She smirks and by the time you finally snatch your phone back to see what she’s doing, a text back has already been sent. Your jaw drops when you read what she’s written.

“I appreciate that, maybe I will, winky-face.” Your eyes went round, just completely astounded. You groaned. “Chelsea, he’s already seen it, what am I gonna do?”

“Well,” she starts, and you already know you’re not going to like what she has to say. “You could just fuck him.”

You swear your head has never whipped around so fast. “Chelsea!”

“What?” She laughs, shrugging her shoulders as if what she just said wasn’t at all out of pocket. “Come on, think about it. It’s like, the perfect way to get back at that dick.”

You sink further into the couch, glancing up to stare at your friend. “How is sleeping with one of his friends going to make this any better?”

Chelsea grins. “You wouldn’t be sleeping with just his friend, Mark’s like one of his best friends. They literally live together, could you imagine the look on Luke’s face if he saw you there with Mark?”

You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for her to keep going, but suddenly an expression crosses her face. You squinted at Chelsea, not liking the way her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I have an idea.”

“No.”

She promptly ignores you, adjusting her seat on the couch so she’s cross legged and facing you completely. “What if you got with all of them?”

You blinked. “All of who?”

“Luke’s friends.”

An incredulous look crosses your face. “Do you know how many friends Luke has?”

Chelsea lets out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t mean like every single one of his friends, just the ones he’s really close with. You know, like Mark and the rest of their group. It would be the perfect way to get revenge.”

Suddenly, you realize exactly who she means. “They’re not going to get with their best friend’s ex-girlfriend, they wouldn’t do that to him.”

“Mark would.” Chelsea smirked. When you didn’t immediately speak up to disagree she kept going.

You open your mouth to speak up, but promptly close it, letting Chelsea continue her ramble. She did have a point, but you were still unsure. Doing this just kind of felt exactly what he did to you, and you meant what you said; that you would’ve never done that to him. You understood that the circumstances were different, of course, you and Luke were no longer together so it wasn’t exactly what he did to you. 

You went back and forth in a mental debate before finally shaking your head. “I don’t think so, Chelsea. I just… at this point the last thing I want to think about is Luke. All I want to do is move on from this whole thing.”

Chelsea sighed, folding her hands in her lap. “Okay. If that’s what you want, then I won’t bring it up again.”

Reaching over, you grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you.”

As promised, she didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, and by the time you woke up in the morning, you’d almost forgotten all about it. It was around midday, though, when you found yourself scrolling on Instagram that you saw it. 

You shoot straight up, elbows no longer resting on the counter top like they were previously, and for the first time since the break up you find yourself angry, rather than upset. You screenshot the picture and zoom in, making sure you’re not just seeing things.

You’re not. 

You scoff, it’s a picture of Luke and some girl, his arm around her shoulders, but that’s not what has you upset. It's what she’s wearing, a necklace around her neck that’s yours. The one you were so upset about when you couldn’t find it because it meant so much to you.

You send the screenshot to Chelsea, typing out a message to go with it.

I take back what I said.

I want to get revenge.

— hope you guys enjoyed the intro, and if you did then there’s more where that came from

— i don’t have a set schedule for when i’m going to be updating, i am a college student so i’m pretty busy but i will try and get chapters out as quick as i can

— with that being said, remember my inbox is always open, feel free to ask me any thing you want to about the series (i’ll try and answer without spoiling anything as best i can) or if you just want to chat that’s okay too :)

[sematarygirls]

🐞 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe sees anxious!reader's tramp stamp for the first time

cw: suggestive but mostly fluff, angst if you squint

       It wasn't like you were hiding it or anything. You certainly weren't ashamed of the permanent ink artwork embedded into your lower back. In fact, you had loved it ever since you got it done.

The problem was that you were self-conscious about your body. You weren't big enough to be considered plus sized, but you weren't small enough to be considered ideal either. You were in a weird middle zone that left you feeling utterly undesirable and completely at war with your body, which led you to wearing a lot of high-rise pants and other articles of clothing that obscured your body—your lower back included.

You also met Rafe in the winter. How he, the hottest guy in Kildare and maybe even the entire world, found you of all people attractive aside, the weather meant that you were never in bikinis or cropped shirts and shorts around him.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Plus, you sort of forgot it was there. After it healed and there was no longer pain or that persistent, unfathomably uncomfortable itch to remind you that you had gotten your skin altered forever, it was out of sight, out of mind.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Until you finally decided to stop being a nervous wreck and spend the night at his house. It was going to be completely innocent, nothing more than some cuddling and a slightly awkward moment of realization the morning after as you felt morning wood pressing against you for the first time. You were inexperienced, to say the very least.

He offered you some sweatpants with a drawstring and a shirt for you to wear, and since you had dreamed of this since you were 13, you had obliged, trying not to seem to excited at the thought of being in his clothes, enveloped by his scent. It just seemed like something oddly intimate and domestic, something you longed for.

You pulled your pants off and pulled his sweatpants on, tying the drawstring, but the pants still hung a little loose on your hips. You turned your back to him, lifting your shirt off, and just as you started to slip his shirt on, you heard his voice, making you freeze.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked, his obscenity mixed with shock making the sentence come out much harsher and more jarring than he had intended. He wasn't as angry as his tone intended. In fact, he was really fucking turned on and incredibly curious. His sweet, shy little girlfriend was hiding a tattoo in the sexiest spot he could imagine.

"What?" You asked, quickly pulling his shirt down and turning to him, your eyes wide with worry. Your mind, adept at overthinking every micro expression and shift in tone, immediately started running with possibilities, most prominently, that he had seen something about your body that he didn't like.

"The tattoo," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You didn't tell me you had a fuckin' tramp stamp."

"Oh," you replied softly, your blood rushing to your cheeks. Your mind immediately worried that he didn't like it, that maybe it would be a deal breaker or he'd think you were some kind of slut. "I-uh- I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, stumbling over your words as your mouth struggled to catch up to your brain. "I guess I forgot about it," your excuse sounded pathetic even to your own ears as it left your lips, but you didn't have anything else to say, nothing that wasn't a string of apologies and pleas that he wouldn't leave you, anyway.

"You forgot you had a tattoo on your lower back?" He raised an eyebrow, sitting up on his bed and crossing his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but it was practically in his DNA. He was working on trying to be gentler with you, realizing when you needed him to be softer and when you liked him acting like sort of a dick, but working on were the operative words in that phrase. He wasn't quite there yet.

"It's just..." You struggled to find the words to explain. Rafe didn't have tattoos. He didn't know how easy it was to just forget that they were there. After a certain point, it just becomes a part of you that you're used to. You don't really think about it or perceive it as much as other people do. "I don't really see it because of where it is, so I- um- well, it's easy to forget that it's there... I guess?" You sounded completely unsure of yourself, to the point that you worried he might think you were lying, whether that was a valid concern or just your anxious brain trying to fuck with you, you weren't sure.

He leaned forward, saying nothing for a moment as his piercing blue eyes regarded you with a scrutinizing stare that made you feel like he could see right through you. You fiddled with the hem off his shirt, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously as your gaze darted around the room—you always overthought how much eye contact was the correct amount. "Turn around," he ordered after a moment, his voice low and gruff. "Let me see. Properly this time."

"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping to his and widening a fraction as you were caught off guard by his demand. You weren't entirely sure what you expected to be honest, maybe to be broken up with, or just chewed out for keeping a secret or getting such a tattoo in the first place, but for some reason, it hadn't occurred to you that he would want to look at it, really look at it.

"Turn around," he said again, his tone leaving no room for argument this time. He didn't like repeating himself, and he especially didn't like feeling like he was missing out on a piece of you, this girl that had taken him completely by surprise and made him forget that anyone else existed. "Now."

Your brain seemed to short circuit, and you stood there for a minute, blinking at him with your lips parted as if you were going to object, but instead, you simply turned around, holding your breath as you entered your natural state of constant worrying.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes squeezing shut in fear and anticipation as he gently tugged the shirt up, revealing your back. he tugged the sweatpants down ever so slightly to see the bottom of the tattoo, and you waited for what seemed like forever before finally feeling his warm fingers run along the healed ink.

The image depicted on your skin, like art on a canvass, was two swans, kissing to create a heart with their faces. One of them was lightly shaded, meant to depict a white swan, and the other was darkly shaded, meant to depict a black swan. It didn't have an explicit meaning to you. You just thought it was pretty and really liked swans, the fact that they mated for life speaking to your hopeless romantic heart.

His fingertips traced the line work, a gesture that was sensual and seemed to leave fire in its wake. He stared at it for a long while, such a beautiful and permanent piece of art on his girl in such an indirectly intimate area making something within stir.

"You hate it don't you?" You breathed out, the words falling from your lips in a concerned hurry faster than you could stop it. The silence was suffocating, not knowing what would come after making your skin crawl with anxiety.

"Face me," was all he said. He wanted to look you in the eyes when he said what he had to say, wanted to make sure you really heard him and understood that he meant what he said.

You turned back around to face him, looking down at him as he placed his hands firmly on your hips, pulling you forward to stand between his legs. Your brows were knitted in worry, looking down at him like you were going to burst into tears if he'd started laying into you. You really liked Rafe—it was too soon to say love but... you did—and that mixed with your people-pleaser tendencies made your stomach turn at the thought of upsetting him.

Realistically, you had no reason to be so nervous about his reaction. It was your body, you could do whatever you wanted to it, and you had gotten it before you two even got together, but your brain didn't really care about what was realistic; it only cared about worst case scenario and disappointing people.

"Baby, you are absolutely gorgeous, alright?" He said sternly, already aware that you were preparing yourself for the worst and probably working yourself up about it. "And, fuck, I mean this tattoo... it only makes you more sexy to me. You're fuckin' perfect."

Your cheeks heated up again, not with fear or embarrassment this time but at his compliment. You also visibly relaxed as the clarification that he wasn't mad soothed your nerves a tad. You let out a surprised giggle as he tugged you down onto his lap.

"You got any more sexy little tattoos hidden under these clothes?" He asked flirtatiously, flashing that panty-dropping smirk that made him look ten times more handsome, especially when he was gripping your thigh with one hand and holding you securely against him by your waist with his other.

"No," you smiled, tentatively wrapping your arms around his neck, not knowing if it was as attractive as it seemed in books. "Just that one. Sorry to disappoint," you continued, your voice soft as you bit your lip shyly—one of your many anxious habits.

"Mm," he hummed, dipping his head into the curve where your neck met your shoulder. "Shame," he murmured, placing soft kisses against your skin as you giggled. The tension in the room had completely dissipated, replaced by a lighthearted and flirty atmosphere.

Rafe knew you weren't ready to go further than just kissing, and he was going to wait for as long as you needed him to. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get horny at the idea of pounding into you from behind, your tattoo completely exposed for him to gawk at, but he knew baby steps were in order. He needed to get you okay with sex before he molded you into his little personal porn star.

                         ୭ৎ

author's notes .ᐟ   described my own tattoo as the one reader has, but if you have your own or want to imagine it as something else, feel free to do so! i just thought i should describe the tattoo for the story's sake <3

also, i know this is a little different from the giggly and jokey couple we saw in my other anxious!reader x boyfriend!rafe fic, and that is because this is toward the beginning of their relationship. reader is still trying to learn to be more comfortable with rafe enough to be herself and realize that he loves her, even it she doesn't like herself, and rafe has never done the relationship thing, especially not with a girl like reader, so he's still learning to express his emotions and be soft and warm with her the way he wants to and know she deserves.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 /

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ Ambessa x Gold digger reader ✞⛧ @loflesbians

✞⛧ Ambessa is no fool; she recognizes a gold digger when she sees one. Instead of being offended, she finds it entertaining. “You want to live off my wealth? At least you’re honest,” she says with a smirk.

✞⛧ The dynamic becomes a game for her. She knows you’re after her riches, but she plays along because your charm amuses her. “I can afford your expensive tastes,” she’ll say, leaning in close. “But can you keep up with me?”

✞⛧ Ambessa spoils you unapologetically—jewelry, fine clothing, luxury vacations. Money is a trivial thing to her, and she delights in watching your eyes light up with every extravagant gift.

✞⛧ She enjoys indulging you in a lavish lifestyle, but there’s always an unspoken agreement: you owe her respect and loyalty in return.

✞⛧ If your demands get too bold, Ambessa quickly reminds you who holds the power. “You’re enjoying my wealth,” she’ll say, her voice calm but commanding, “but don’t mistake my generosity for weakness.”

✞⛧ Watching you flaunt her gifts in public is a source of pride for her. Seeing the envy in others’ eyes when they see you at her side only feeds her ego.

✞⛧ Despite your gold-digging tendencies, Ambessa finds your boldness captivating. She admires the way you carry yourself, unapologetic and fearless.

✞⛧ Occasionally, she tests your limits, withholding luxuries just to see how you’ll react. Your pouts or manipulations amuse her. “So predictable,” she teases with a knowing smirk.

✞⛧ Ambessa loves the power dynamic. She thrives on knowing you rely on her, and the way you seek her approval only fuels her dominance.

✞⛧ You’re often left wondering who’s really in control. Ambessa may shower you with riches, but she always keeps you in check.

✞⛧ Her love language is a mix of acts of service and gifts, but she makes it clear that her affection isn’t something money can buy.

✞⛧ If anyone dares to insult you for your gold-digging reputation, Ambessa shuts them down with icy precision. “They’re mine,” she states, leaving no room for argument.

✞⛧ Over time, she begins to see more of who you are beneath the surface. Your wit and charm go beyond material desires, and it intrigues her.

✞⛧ When you try to downplay your intentions, Ambessa chuckles knowingly. “Don’t lie to me,” she says with a low, amused voice. “I didn’t choose you for your innocence.”

✞⛧ Sometimes, she pretends to cut you off, just to see your reaction. “What would you do without me?” she asks, her tone playful but her gaze sharp.

✞⛧ Her possessiveness knows no bounds. She’s fiercely protective of you and doesn’t tolerate anyone undermining your place at her side.

✞⛧ Ambessa’s confidence in her ability to keep you around is unshakable. “If you think there’s someone better out there, you’re welcome to try,” she says with a smirk, knowing you won’t leave.

✞⛧ As much as you rely on her wealth, you can’t help but admire her strength and intelligence. Ambessa notices this shift and uses it to her advantage.

✞⛧ “Are you still here for the riches,” she asks one evening, her voice low and teasing, “or is it something more?”

✞⛧ Despite her stoic exterior, she occasionally surprises you with deeply thoughtful gestures, reminding you that she values more than your superficial charm.

✞⛧ She’s impossible to outmaneuver, her years of experience in politics and warfare ensuring that she always stays one step ahead of you.

✞⛧ Your fiery dynamic evolves into something deeper over time. Ambessa challenges you to prove your worth beyond material desires, and you find yourself wanting to rise to the occasion.

✞⛧ When she catches you admiring her, Ambessa raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Careful, mi vida. You’re starting to look like someone in love.”

✞⛧ Whether it started for the wrong reasons or not, your relationship with Ambessa becomes impossible to ignore. Her commanding presence is magnetic, and you’re captivated.

✞⛧ In the end, Ambessa doesn’t care why you came into her life. What matters is that you’re hers now, and she doesn’t plan on letting you go.

[crimsonnsstuff]

Can you do something out of games like they are in outside world.

Dark hwang inho x maid reader. Where his eyes linger on his sweet maid longer than it should be. But she's not into him. If it's money she's saying no for he'll throw stack of money on her face. Forcing her to sleep with him. Non con

Clean and proper

Warnings: non con, p in v, reader only fucks In-ho for cash.

The whole day was a mess, scrubbing floors desperately for your daily paycheck. Being In-hos maid was a mess in general. He found you, sleeping on a mark bench and offered you the job. You had to except it, having no money. He was even offering you to stay there. You had to say yes.

Now here you were, in your room, changing out of your clothes. You were grateful that the uniform wasn’t so slutty. Tho, he did make you give him blowjobs here and there, but he paid you for it.

You bring your nose up to the clothes. The uniform smelled like food and cleaning products. You groan, throwing the uniform in the laundry hamper. You were gonna have to wash it tomorrow morning. You walk over to your dresser, opening one of the drawers. Your eyes land on the dress that In-house bought you. It was a dark green and it brought out your eyes.

He bought it for the dinner that he so desperately tried to take you out too. He had to pay you to go. You sigh and pick up your pajama set beside it. You lay it out on your bed. You hear a few soft knocks on the door, and In-ho walked in.You stood there, in the middle of the bedroom, in just your panties and bra. In-ho acted weirdly casual. “Hey,” he says softly, approaching carefully. “You didn’t come for another blowjob, did you?” You ask. His eyes narrow. “Don’t be a fucking brat. And no, I came for more than that.”

Your heart drops. More? There’s no way you would let that man fuck you. “I’m not letting you fuck me.” You growl, sitting down in the edge of your bed. “Jesus Christ, brat. I gave you a place to stay and a job. The least you could do is let me fuck you.” He groans. You open your mouth to say something. “Shut up. Just shut up.” He says, reaching into the pocket of his pants. He pulls out his wallet and opens it. He places a couple hundred dollar bills on one of your thighs, then a couple on the other. He puts his wallet pack in his pocket. “What do you say, hm?”

You sigh and pick up the cash, setting it on your nightstand. “Fine.” You mutter. He smirks, crawling over you. He leans down and presses kisses to your collar bone. You close your eyes, disgusted by the way you’re letting this man fuck you. He ruined your life. Maybe you were being dramatic, he did give you a place to stay after all. In-ho's hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. His mouth moved to your collar bone, to your boobs, igniting fires you didn't know you had within you. You squirm as he kisses down your stomach.

He pulls back, unbuckling his belt. He throws it to the side. He is quick to take his pants and boxers off. You recognized the boxers, you’ve washed them countless of times. He slowly unbuttons his shirt, revealing his toned chest to you.He is quick to rip your panties off, tearing them. “Hey! I like these!” You groan. “Shut up. I bought them. What makes you think I can’t buy you another pair?” He rubs his cock yo and down your folds, teasing you.

As he entered you, the line between reluctance and desire blurred. His rhythm was punishing yet intoxicating, each thrust a reminder of why you should never have agreed to this deal. Yet, with each movement, you felt yourself losing to the pleasure he was forcing upon you, the reality of his payment making it all the more complicated.You moan softly. You can’t believe this actually felt good. You can’t deny it, he was really attractive. Your back arches off the bed. Suddenly, he thrusts to deep and you yelp, pawing at his chest.

He is quick to pin your arms to the sides of your head, speeding up his thrusts. “You deserve a raise for how good this pussy is..” he grunts, hair sticking to his forehead.He lets go of your arms and grabs your legs, opening them up wider and getting reader to cum. He groans loudly as he cums deep inside you, and you squirt on his cock, coating his lower belly and thighs. He chuckles.

“Jesus Christ.” He slips out of you, walking to his discarded pants on the floor. “You earn another one hundred for that.” He says, placing a hundred dollar bill on your tummy.

[tinydragonclover]

I was always a masculine child and My mom controlled my wardrobe and hair growing up. When I moved out I shaved my head. And got rid of my least favorite clothes (this was before I knew I was trans). Skirts and dresses removed entirely as I bought more graphic tees and flannel shirts. I bought a binder because I hated how big my chest is. I started going out of my way to lower my voice.

My mom made so many snide remarks about it and I went down a rabbit hole and overcorrected. I wanted to be a woman so badly it hurt, wore clothes that felt wrong and uncomfortable and grew my hair back out. It killed me so much and my mom the whole time praised me for finally embracing my feminity. My dad noticed how unhappy I was kept trying to convince me to be myself and be happy. I wanted to, then the pandemic hit and I lost friends and I found myself in mental crisis.

It was there I realized what was wrong. I came out and said fuck this shit. Ironically I finally lost it on my mom and told her she couldn't project on me anymore. That I'm my own person. She's still in my life even if I have to remind her on occasion that it's my body. My dad however I lost that year, he's still alive, just not in my life as he got possessive, aggressive, and hateful once my mom had left him. I miss my dad, but I know he hates the man I've become and my mom has slowly come to accept the extra son she gained.

something that really needs to be discussed more under transandrophobia is this very insidious emotional sexual abuse that cis mothers inflict on their trans(masc) sons/children. this gross almost incestuous enmeshment and entitlement that they have to our fucking bodies and how anything we do with our bodies is an attack on them and their body somehow

its such a vile and disgusting form of abuse and its genuinely hard for me to talk about because its something that i went through myself, on top of other abuse

[fenya-scribbles]

U

♥--------♥--------♥

Pairing: idol!Bangchan x fem!Reader

Other Characters: none

Summary: You break up with Chan, but he won't let you go that easily.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort?

Content warnings: there's a break up happening, lots of heartache and crying

Word Count: 985

Screenshots: 3

A/N: *my life, my love is you* U is just a great song and it hurts me so good every time I listen to it. Also, this went through several rewrites, but I also didn't really proofread it lol. I almost cried writing it though because hurting Chan even in fiction is just cruel and it hurt my soul.

♥--------♥--------♥

"Well, I'm sorry my passion is such an inconvenience for you!", Chan yelled. He was fuming, restlessly pacing through his living room. "That's not what I was saying and you know it", you retorted from where you were sitting on the couch. You were angry as well, but more than that you were tired. This was the third time this week the two of you blew up at each other. Once again you'd felt neglected, once again he'd gotten lost in his work, swamped with appointments, too busy being an idol.

And it was thoroughly exhausting to fight with him. Because you loved him with all your heart, you did not want to fight. But you also didn't want to feel left on the sidelines, like an afterthought. Things had been going downhill for a few months now. You wondered how you'd ever managed to balance the relationship and his profession. He'd asked you to quit your job and just follow him wherever he went. But that was not fair, you thought, that you had to give up your own dreams to be with him.

"This is not working, Chan." It hurt you in your soul to speak the words, but you felt yourself reaching a breaking point. "We are not working anymore." He stopped in his tracks and stared at you. "You don't mean that", he said, all his rage suddenly deflated. "No, I do, actually. Look at us, we're a mess. All we do lately is fight." "So what, you want to break up? Throw us away?" You felt the tears coming, felt your heart clenching painfully in your chest. "I don't know, Chan. All I know is that I can't do this anymore."

Chan took a seat on the couch beside you and reached for your hands, but you pulled away. "Please don't make this harder than it already is", you whispered as tears started running down your cheeks. "Baby...", was all he said as tears also filled his eyes. "I'm sorry, Chan. We tried...I tried....but I'm exhausted." "Don't do this, babe", he begged, reaching for your hands again. You didn't pull away this time, letting him grip you tightly. "I love you", he said. "I love you too", you said, "but it's not enough anymore."

***

The following weeks were torture. You went into survival mode, functioning at work and falling apart at home. You barely slept, and if you did, you were crying yourself to sleep. After three days of total isolation, your friends started to worry and showed up unannounced at your place. They kept doing that, making sure you ate and took at least somewhat care of yourself. They tried to cheer you up, tried you distract you, but all you thought about was Chan.

Everyday you asked yourself if you did the right thing. Everyday you reminded yourself of why you left, why you had to break it off. Everyday your thumb hovered at least once over the "unblock" button in his contact on your phone. Everyday you felt less like yourself, less like a person, less alive. It was as if breaking up exhausted you far more than fighting with Chan ever had.

Three weeks went by like that. Three weeks of you walking around like a zombie. Three weeks of missing Chan with every fibre of your being, missing his hugs, his voice, his love. And then you couldn't take it anymore, your thumb finally hitting that damned "unblock" button.

You were swamped by messages from him.

Your heart lurched in your chest with every message you read. You had to go over it several times, rereading every line, eyes blurry with tears. And by the end you finally realised what he was saying, so you got up and checked your mailbox. There was indeed an envelope in there, your name written on it in Chan's handwriting with a heart next to it.

Hastily, you went to the living room, opening the envelope on the way. There was a USB Stick inside and a small note.

Y/N, I miss you so much. I made this song for you to show you that I'm willing to fight for this relationship. Please give me the chance to fix this. I love you, Chan.

You started at the note, thumb brushing over the handwritten words. A tear landed on in next to his name. You missed him so much. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you grabbed your laptop from the couch table and inserted the USB Stick. On it was one singular audio file: For Y/N

With shaking hands you opened it and the song started. You fill up my mind 24/7... It was beautiful, hauntingly so, the lyrics piercing your heart. When it was done, it just started over again, and you let it. You played it on a loop, again and again, your quiet tears turning into full on sobs, as you fell apart on your couch.

It took you a while to process the song. To process Chan's messages and the lyrics and the fact that he had dropped a USB stick in your mailbox just a mere hour ago, because it was the only way he thought to get the song to you. He'd been outside your door, so close to you yet so far away still.

When your sobs finally died down and your mind stopped racing at light speed, you knew what to do. You picked up your phone, Chan's contact still open, and pressed the call button. He picked up immediately.

"Y/N?", he said hesitantly. You stayed quiet for a moment, words stuck in your throat. "Please say something", Chan said, voice shaky. "I listened to the song", you managed. There was another pause. "Can you come over?", you asked. You could hear him let out a breath of relief. "Open the door."

♥--------♥--------♥

Masterlist

[ssentimentals]

prompt: this is reader’s first relationship & she’s just a little unsure of herself & how to be in a relationship?

seungcheol + inexperienced!reader

it's not a big deal. thats what you've been trying to tell yourself since seungcheol became your boyfriend. your very first boyfriend in your very first relationship. it's great, amazing and it's not.a.big.deal. if only your mind was so easy to trick.

'baby?' seungcheol calls over and you turn so quickly, you give yourself a whiplash. he raises one eyebrow at you, frozen with a big bowl full of popcorn in his hands. 'is everything okay?'

you gulp. you're doing a horrible job of not showing your insecurities if seungcheol can tell that something is wrong by standing five feet away. 'everything is fine,' you lie and it sounds so fake that you can't stop yourself from grimacing.

that, of course, only worries seungcheol even more. your boyfriend comes over, carefully placing full bowl on the floor before climbing on the sofa next to you. he doesn't get anywhere in your personal space and instead reaches out to take your hands in his. 'what's wrong?' he asks in such an earnest tone that you feel bad.

you almost want to tell the truth. your mouth almost opens, your tongue almost curves and forms the words that haunt your mind. almost. you draw back, swallowing hard. how can you tell the truth to someone like seungcheol? someone so confident and sure in himself, someone for who this relationship is not anything new; how can he understand you? you know that you're overthinking it. so many people told you that it's not a big deal and you agree, but what can you do if your mind always comes up with hundred and one ways to make you unsure in this whole thing? seungcheol's thumbs caress your skin gently and he waits so patiently for your answer that it makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. it also serves a good reminder - this is seungcheol. same seungcheol who held your bag and chaperoned you to every single class. same seungcheol who memorized your food allergies and favorite snacks, always checking labels of everything for any allergens and surprising you with sweets whenever you're least expected them. same seungcheol who took his time to know you, kept respectable distance till you got comfortable, waited for you to develop feelings for him as well. same seungcheol who looked the happiest when you agreed to be his girlfriend. it's the same seungcheol and you breathe out, willing your whole body to release the tension you've been holding.

'it might be a bit stupid, you warn, biting your lower lip.

seungcheol shakes his head. 'it's not, it won't be. share with me, baby. i can help, i promise. and if not then it at least will feel good to get this thing out of your chest.'

you smile. somehow he always knows what to say to make you at ease. 'i'm just worried, i guess.' you let out slowly, being careful with words. seungcheol nods, urging you to continue. 'like- ugh.'

it's unexpectedly hard. how do you tell him that being in relationship for the first time makes you nervous? that even during simple movie night you feel unsure on how to act? that your mind is clouded with 'what should i do' and 'am i suppose to do this' more often than you'd like to admit it? in the end, what ends up coming out of your mouth is: 'you're my first boyfriend and i'm just worried about... this.'

seungcheol waits for a little but when it becomes clear that you're not going to elaborate, he carefully asks: 'i'm not making you uncomfortable, am i?'

you shake your head, gripping his hands. 'no-no, cheollie. you don't.'

'alright,' seungcheol sighs in relief. 'but if i do - please tell me, okay? this is new for me too, i need to know if my actions somehow upset you. it's not going to work without a good communication.'

you blink. this is new for me too leaves you breathless. god. of course it's new for seungcheol too - he never dated you. you are a new person and it's new for him too, he doesn't know everything about you. he is also in this for the first time with you and this realisation makes you want to laugh. 'i had the most ridicilous thoughts,' you confess, chuckling a little. 'like- like how i can be good girlfriend.'

seungcheol looks so confused and baffled that this time you laugh for real, letting your head fall forward on his shoulder. 'are you serious? babe, looks at me. c'mon, show me your pretty face.' he makes you look up, cradling your face in his hands. 'are you serious?' when you nod shyly, he groans. 'oh my god. what on earth- baby. i am with you. i am dating you. we are together. i am so happy, why are you even thinking about this?'

you blush under his stare. 'cause you know that this is very new for me, i don't want to fuck up or something like that.'

'just be yourself.' seungcheol says it with so much conviction that you don't doubt his sincerity. 'just be you, i fell for you, i don't need anything else. we will move on your pace, don't worry about it. you can do whatever you want to do, act however you like - just be you.'

it takes a gigantic effort from you to not cry. you hug him tight and seungcheol hugs you even tighter right back, plastering himself all over you and leaving tiny kisses on your shoulder and head. his words fill you with so much warmth and relief, you sag in his arms. 'thank you,' you mumble.

'you don't have to thank me,' seungcheol whispers. 'just be you and you'll be the best girlfriend on this planet.'

it's cheesy and it makes you giggle and feel all of the butterflies in your stomach. you kiss his cheeks, sighing happily. 'okay.'

seungcheol smiles, caressing your back lovingly. he lets you two enjoy this moment, only pulling back when you move. 'now let's go back to our movie night, yeah?'

you nod. 'cuddle?' you ask shyly.

seungcheol's answering grin is blinding. 'of course, princess.'

a/n: is it very obvious that seungcheol is in my top3 of the members to write for? :') hope you enjoyed this one! - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

[takimakiiiii]

The Adventures of Loverboy and Twinkle Toes ~

lando norris x driver!female & platonic!grid x reader

angst, fluff, more angst with a dash of extra angst + established relationship + breakup 

¡happy ending! dw, i’m not that mean

TW: swearing/profanity, bullying

WC: around 1k-ish?

disclaimer!: not all of these stats are accurate and the timeline doesn’t stick to the 2019 as it had to change for the story also the drivers had to be shuffled around for the story to make sense. basically it’s a big of a mess ALSO THERE IS USE OF Y/N IN THIS FIC

a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app for the last few month cuz i got bored one night at 3am

ALSO THE STARTING IS SO CHEESY SO LIKE BARE WITH ME IT GETS BETTER I SWEAR 😭

also with the driving parts it’s so bad okay I don’t even know what I’m talking and so pls don’t hate on me 

sorry if it’s so bad I just wanted to finally post this so it doesn’t die w me in my notes app

<—————————————————————————————————>

You first met Lando Norris at the ripe age of 8 and my god was he an asshole. A constant pain in the ass, he attended the same private British school you did in Bristol, an academy for only the brightest and well, richest in the country.

Lando Norris’s family was a wealthy and famous one too, it wasn’t a secret. Yours, on the other hand wasn’t, and that too wasn’t much of a secret either. You’d gotten a scholarship to attend the academy after winning a competition. And from the minute you stepped into the school Lando Norris never failed to make you feel like you didn’t belong there. 

You came from a line of mechanics and at a young age your Father got you into karting. And it was clear you had a talent for it.

Well as expected, it didn’t sit well with Lando, you were the only girl. It didn’t sit well with any of the boys who you karted with. That brought along of other things too, you were treated like a boy, something that you’d come to expect whenever you stepped onto the track. The boys would call you horrible names, something such a young girl shouldn’t be hearing, they’d belittle your wins and make you feel like shit.

You were a girl who’d fallen for a boy’s sport. 

Something Lando would constantly remind you over and over again - that you didn’t belong there. Not at the fancy rich academy and definitely not on the race track. Only to make matters worse, he was incredible at karting. By the time you were both seniors at the academy he was already well on his way to the glory of F1.

Yet somehow you both were always the ones battling in that final lap, perhaps that’s what made him hate you so much was because you offered something no one else could:  competition. 

“Hey Twinkle Toes, you’ve got balls coming back onto the track after what you pulled last time.” a voice cut through the silence of the garage.

That same voice that had been annoying you for years on end, snapped you from your train of thought. You looked up and saw Lando pulling his gloves on, looking down on you as you sat on the steps of the garage. Something inside you began to tick, like a bomb about to go off. 

He was referring to your last competition in which you’d pushed him off the track, unintentionally of course but he didn’t see it that way. He’d had a good yell at you afterwards in front of everyone, embarrassing you in front of all the other boys too. You clenched your fists as you stood up, yet his height was unmatched as you glared up at him. You hoped your face was able to match up the words that were about to leave your mouth. 

“Yeah? Well at least I have balls dipshit.” you retorted angrily as you picked your helmet up from the stairs. 

You turned around and he was now closer, a few mere centimetres away from your face. You nearly caught yourself jumping in surprise but managed to keep a collected face as he spoke. 

“If you try that again today you’re going to wish you never stepped foot onto that track. Got it, Twinkle Toes?” his voice was laced with poison as he stared straight down at you. You stared back into his deep green eyes that seemed to glint with a harshness you’d grown to hate. You poked your inner cheek as you bit back an insult, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 

“Whatever you say, Loverboy.” you replied with a humorous chuckle as you walked past him. You could basically feel the anger radiating off him as you exited the garage, heading in the direction of the track as your pulled your helmet on. 

<—————————————————————————————————>

“What? Do you think you’re better at karting than me?” Lando asked as he lowered himself to your level, you were still sitting at your desk. His hands were down on the wooden table as he glowered down at you. Class had just finished for lunch and to explain it briefly - Lando wasn’t happy how the race had ended that weekend. 

“I don’t think I’m better than you, Lando Norris. I know I am. So why don’t you stop being such a dramatic prick and leave me alone.” you shot back with a smile, knowing that would piss him off. You picked up your books and stood up, he did the same, now towering over you once again. You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your bag off the chair. 

“You’re so full of yourself, you don’t belong here Twinkle Toes, you never have and you never will. You’re a fucking outsider.” he replied, you swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. You knew you shouldn’t take his dumb remarks to heart but the words would often eat you alive because deep down you knew he was right. Surrounded by all these rich kids with their rich parents, compared to them you were absolutely nothing. 

“Fuck you, Norris.” you spat, inhaling slowly, looking away so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Go cry about it.” 

And that’s how you found yourself sobbing in the bathrooms during lunch. 

You could hear hushed whispers outside of the stall as other girls walked in and out of the bathroom. You knew they could hear you crying, yet none of them had the decency to even ask if you were okay. Rich British  people were just like that, you guessed as you wiped your face with the back of your hand. 

“Is someone crying in there?” a girls voice whispered in a hushed tone outside of the stall, you could see two pairs of black shoes and white socks from underneath the door. 

“Yeah. I think it’s-“ the other girl replied, voice dropping low out of earshot. There were more hushed whispers before you heard one last remark.

“He’s such an asshole.” 

That, you could agree on. 

There was a moment of silence before a gentle knock came through from the other side of the door. Your heart jumped in your chest as you stared at the stall door, the girls on the other side still unknown.

“Hey girl? You okay in there?” one of the girls asked. You weren’t sure how to answer so you got to your feet and slowly unlocked the stall door. It swung open to reveal two girls, one a tall sun kissed girl with beautiful braids. The other, a pretty asian girl you recognised from French class, her name was Lisa or something. 

“Hi.” you finally said. There was a long dreading moment of silence as you waited for them to laugh in your face but it didn’t come. 

“It was what’s his name, Lanky Norris or something, right? He likes to pick you on, doesn’t he?” the tall girl asked, you instantly liked her. You let out a laugh through tears, the two girls smiled, success clear on their faces. 

“Yeah.” you nodded, wiping your face for any stray tears that still lingered on your cheeks. 

“He’s so annoying, the only reason he’s here is because his Daddy’s rich, ya know?” she grimaced as she crossed her arms.

“You’re also here because of your Daddy’s money, Sandy.” Lisa reminded her with a gentle nudge, you let out a laugh at Sandy’s frown. 

“Okay, calm your farm, girl. I’m trying to insult him to make our new friend here feel better.” she shot back, throwing an incredulous look your way as she shook her head. 

Lisa held her hands up in defence with a grin on her face. 

“Okay, okay. Well, Y/N, let’s get you out of here and get you something to eat.” she suggested. The two girls pulled you out from the bathroom stall and you left the bathroom with two new friends and a smile.

<—————————————————————————————————>

Lando had heard the rumours going around, two popular girls he wasn’t a big fan of had found you in the girl’s bathroom crying. He knew he was the one at fault for that, Lando knew you weren’t as strong as you came off to be. But he always let his pride and selfishness take over because the truth was you were right, you were better than him. And he knew it too. 

And that’s what pissed him off the most is that you were and would always be better than him. Not only at karting, in school and everything else too. 

He guessed he owed you an apology, the hard truth was that he sort of admired your strength, you weren’t as strong as you came off to be because you were much more stronger. He’d seen you be treated badly by most of the other boys on the track, but he was too much of a coward to stick up for you because that would mean his feelings for you would be obvious. If only you knew-

“What do you want, Norris?” 

He stopped in his tracks oblivious to the fact that he’s stopped right next to your locker. His palms instantly became clammy like they did each time he saw you as he attempted to find his words that had gotten caught in his throat. 

“I didn’t- I mean- “ he stumbled on his words, mentally cursing himself as he made a fool of himself in front of you.

You let out a scoff as you shut your locker door with a loud SLAM, gaining the attention of other students who lingered around, their eyes floating toward you both. Lando flinched from the sound, becoming aware of the surrounding eyes.

“Save it. Your words mean nothing but shit to me.” you spat angrily. 

Lando stood defeated as he watched you walk away. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, his mind was telling him to do something, but what? He didn’t know. 

“I’M SORRY!” he yelled at the top of his voice before he lost the courage to do anything at all. Everyone in the hallway stopped to stare at him. If people hadn’t been interested, they sure were now. A scarlet red hue appeared across his face as you slowly turned and walked up to him, a giant grin on your face. 

“What’d you say? I don’t think I heard it the first time?” you held your hand to your ear, propping up on your heels. He let out a sigh, you could be a big pain in the ass when you wanted to be. Yet he could still fell his heart beating ever so loudly in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, aware of all the eyes now watching you both. 

“Didn’t catch that, wanna repeat it one more time?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips as you leaned closer which only made his face redder. 

“Fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those thing. It was dumb and fucking stupid. You do belong here, hell you’re probably the only one who does, you didn’t use your parents money to get here unlike the rest of us. So, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve all of the shit I’ve put you through the last few years.”

You pulled away, staring him in the eyes you nodded. A silent thank you. 

“It’s alright, Norris. It’s no secret i’m better than you anyways.” you chimed with a laugh. Lando felt his heart flutter as your laugh echoed through the hallway. 

“C’mon, we have English class.” you turned on your heel and that’s all it took for Lando to follow after. 

<—————————————————————————————————>

School passed in a quick intense blur as both you and Lando graduated in no time. A couple months after becoming close friends you’d gotten together, a bit of a shock to everyone at school who’d only ever seen you fighting before. Especially Lisa and Sandy, whom you were still close with despite your busy schedule now.

Your relationship with Lando was going great, both of you had slowly moved from the ranks of F4 to F3 to F2 and now you were both at the age of 19 soon to make your F1 debuts. 

Lando had signed with McLaren, a team he’d had close ties with ever since he was a teenager his father was a close associate with Zak Brown. Lando alongside Carlos Sainz were to be the 2019 McLaren team. 

You, on the other hand had signed with Ferrari, a big dream ever since you were a young kid. You were going to be driving with Charles Leclerc, a guy who was like a god to your family. You’d be driving alongside some of the greatest drivers of all time, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Fernando Alonso and many more. 

It was no secret that you were dating Lando, most of the public seemed to take it well and the media weren’t too concerned with trying to pry into your relationship. One thing you were thankful for. Yet you were oblivious to the fact that it might change once everything started in F1.

You knew with Formula 1 more obstacles would come your way and attempt to break you and Lando’s relationship, you just hoped it would be enough to stand it all.

“Hey love? You alright?” Lando’s voice sailed across the living room of your parents’ house from the kitchen. Your silence when he asked a question prompted him to check if you were okay.

“Yep.” you quickly replied, laughing when Lando poked his head from around the corner for the sole purpose to raise his eyebrows at you. 

“You sure? Wanna talk about it?” he offered, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. You smiled as you pressed up against him, pecking him gently on his cheek. 

“Just thinking about what it’ll be when the season starts.” you told him as he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lean against him. His touch allowing a sense of peacefulness in the moment making you believe it would be okay. 

“Me too. It’s kinda of scary isn’t it? Everything we dreamt of is coming true.” Lando mused as he leant his head down against yours. You let out a gentle exhale, “Yeah.”

There was a long moment of calm silence as you both sat there in the comfort of one another. Lando drew circles on your palm with his fingers as you closed your eyes. 

“But. . .?” Lando offered, looking down at you with a soft smile. You chuckled, “You know me so well.” you grinned as you nestled your face in the crook of his neck.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked. 

You let out another sigh as you pulled away facing the tv that was playing FRIENDS. 

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just scared of what might happen to. . . us. You know? I’ve seen what can happen to couples when their lives are shoved into the spotlight.” you held your breath as you looked up at him, awaiting his reaction. 

He gently rested his head on yours again, relieving the tightness inside you. 

“That’s not going to happen to us, I promise, Twinkle Toes. I trust you, I trust us. I always have. Whatever happens we’ll get through it together” he assured you with such certainty it nearly made you believe him. You smiled, he always managed to make your heart flutter no matter how long you’d been together. The chemistry had managed to continue after all these years was unmatched.

“I love you, Loverboy.”

“Love you more, Twinkle Toes.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“ITS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest as you hit the accelerator, the car moving forward to your command. It almost didn’t seem real, the loud cheers of the people in the grandstands were one to rival a concert. 

It was the same exhilarating feeling each time you raced, pressure but nonetheless excitement resting on your shoulders. The first few laps went by smoothly, you were in P12 after beginning in P14 after qualifying. Not too bad if you could say so yourself.

Soon enough you found yourself in the second last lap, you were currently in P6 after a spinning out from Daniel Ric took out three other drivers. The commotion after that had lasted quite a while as everyone was forced to wait. But the race still continued,  a certain McLaren was on your tail as you both fought for P6. You were struggling to keep Lando at bay, defence was never one of your strengths. In this case it proved to be a big liability.

The waving checkered flag came around in no time as you and Lando crossed the finish line half a second apart. 

“Who’s pole?” you asked your radio engineer as you pulled off the race track, loud cheers greeting you as you stopped the car.

“Hamilton, P1, Verstappen P2 and Leclerc P3.” your radio engineer replied. 

“Sweet, that’s great for Charles.” you replied, “Good job guys, P6, that’s not half bad.” 

<—————————————————————————————————>

The 2019 Championship went by in a quick exhilarating blur. And so did 2020, 2021 and 2022. Covid posed a problem for a while but everyone managed. Lando and you had been stuck at home focusing on other things, he with his Twitch channel and you on your own things. 

Maybe you chose to ignore it, too focused on your career to pay attention to the cracks that had begun to surface in you and Lando’s relationship. 

So now here you were in off-season awaiting 2023. Both unsure of what to do with each other’s time after being away from one another for so long. 

“Hey, love? You going to come sit down and eat?” Lando’s voice called from the kitchen table. You’d moved in together in an apartment in Monaco not long after your first F1 season. A sense of hopelessness tainted his words, one you chose to ignore. 

“Yep! Give me like one second!” you yelled back from your bedroom. You knew you had to stop pretending everything was fine, it clearly wasn’t and you both knew it too. 

It was the time and the media at fault, something you would constantly tell yourself over and over again. Yet if you really thought about it you could only really blame yourself. There was no use in blaming all of those other things if it was just the two of you in the relationship.

You got up and walked into the dining room, smiling softly upon seeing Lando sitting down already. But the smile wasn’t reciprocated on his face and the one on yours had vanished by the moment you got to the table.

“Y/N, I think we need to talk.” he said gently, looking up at you. You let out a breath one you hadn’t noticed you were holding, nodding as you replied. “Yeah.” you breathed, the shakiness in your voice evident. 

You took a seat across from him and awaited for everything to spill out. 

“What’s been happening? What happened to us?” his simple words hung in silence as you found your own. 

“I don’t - I don’t know.” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes that you knew were filled with disappointment, you stared down at the plate in front of you.

“Then why haven’t we tried to fix it? Is this it? Do you not want to be with me anymore?” he asked, his voice breaking as he looked at you helplessly for your answer. Your heart jumped as you looked up at him, his face breaking your heart as they searched your eyes for an answer.

“No! Lando, of course I want to be with you, I just- I’m scared.” you inhaled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. Your heart was thumping loud in your chest as you closed your eyes. 

“Scared of what?” Lando asked, reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. You took another breath in. . . and the words slipped out. 

“They want me to take your seat at McLaren.”

“What?”

“No- It’s not what it sounds like, I promise. I just found out, I swear. I was going to tell you when they told me but I-” you stammered as you searched to find some way to salvage from the damage that was now done. 

“When did you find out?” Lando asked, his hand had now retracted from holding yours and now at his side. Your lip wobbled, unable to lie to him you answered, your throat closing in on you. It was something impossible, a change in seats and teams being so close cut to the season? 

It was basically impossible and yet here you were. 

“At the end of last season.” you managed to say as your voice wobbled.

That was well off two months ago. 

You knew you should’ve told him the moment they suggested it to you. It would’ve been the right thing to do but you just could never find a good time to tell him. Yet that was just something you’d told yourself to make it seem better.

Lando let out a scoff, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, standing out of his chair, a loud scraping noise filled the apartment, dinner on the table long forgotten. You stared up at him, regret tainted your face. 

You stood up too, reaching out for him. 

“I did, I mean I tried to. I just didn’t know how to tell you, they didn’t want me to. I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry Lan, I really am.” you stammered, tripping over your own words. 

He pulled away from your grasp like you had burnt him. “I thought we were in this together, I trusted us, I thought you did too. But apparently not.”

“No, wait, Lando. Stop, where are you going?” you asked helplessly as you followed him to the door. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen bench, unable to look in your direction as he answered. 

“I have to go. Go somewhere away from you.” 

The front door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed against the wall in a heap of sobs. 

<—————————————————————————————————>

A week passed and Lando didn’t come back home. You called him, texted, all of them going to either voicemail or delivered and unanswered. 

You tried asking the other drivers of the grid whether they’d spoken to him but they all answered with the same thing: that he’d asked them to leave him alone for the time being.

You hated yourself right now. You should’ve told him the moment McLaren offered his seat to you. You had been scared that if he knew he’d leave, and well, keeping it from him resulted in just the same thing you wanted to avoid. 

You wanted to feel mad, mad at him because your selfishness couldn’t help but want to blame him. Yet, you knew it was wrong, the only person at fault was you. So here you sat in the waiting lobby of McLaren, surrounded by so many people who were associates with Lando it made you feel like a fool. You felt as if everyone was staring at you and not only that but judging hard as if they knew what had happened. 

That’s when you spotted him, Lando was walking through the lobby, he was in the same clothes as that night. Your heart dropped as you stood up, unsure of what you were going to say him but you pressed forward. Your footsteps echoed around the lobby as you caught up to Lando who wasn’t yet aware of your presence.

“Lando!” you called, he paused and hesitantly turned around to face you. All those walls you’d broken down throughout the years were now back up again as he stared at you coldly. And it was just like it was back in school, Lando staring down at you as you looked up at him helplessly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly as he looked pass you, unable to meet your gaze. You swore your heart broke a little when he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Please don’t do this, Lando. I know I messed up. I should’ve told you the second they offered the seat to me. I didn’t want to lose you, I thought that if you knew you’d leave.” 

“Well looks like you’ve lost me either way. I don’t care about the seat, Y/N. I care about the fact that you chose to hide it from me, I thought we were in this together.” his eyes flitted from your eyes to away as he took a step backwards. You could feel him slipping from your heart, you reached forward. 

“We can! Please, I promise we can fix this, I can fix this. Just don’t leave me, please.” the words tumbled out of you only to come out as desperate and pathetic. It was wrong, you knew it too. 

“I can’t do this right now, Y/N. I have to go meet Fred Vasseur at Ferrari.”

“Ferrari?”

Lando let out a sigh, stepping past you as he replied.  

“Yeah. Ferrari’s offered me your seat.”

You felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach as you watched Lando walk out the McLaren doors. Tears slipped from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you stifled a sob in your hands. You watched him leave, taking your heart with him.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A couple of months later

“Race in 15 minutes.” a voice called in passing as you sat on the steps of your garage. Your eyes floated around to where Oscar stood next to one of the engineers, both peering down at a screen, jabbing at something on it every so often whilst nodding. 

Oscar was the other driver who joined the grid this year to race alongside you with Mclaren. He was a young polite funny Australian guy and from what you’d heard and seen- one of the best drivers of the newest generation. He’d already impressed you before on numerous occasions when you would go with Lando to go watch the F2 races when you got the chance. The two of you would go watch your old buddies race and join them in drinking afterwards. 

“All good.” you replied, anxiousness creeping its way into your voice as you attempted to banish any thought of Lando. You swallowed hard as you pulled your gloves on, hands trembling as they did before any race. 

It was the first race of the 2023 season, there was a new lineup of drivers, some old, some new. Many of the drivers had transferred teams, this included both you and Lando, Carlos, Daniel Riccardo making his comeback and a couple of others. 

You and Lando had both decided to call it quits after the whole thing that went down during the off-season. The other drivers were aware of what had happened and honestly it didn’t take a lot of thinking to put the two things together. You and Lando had swapped seats at Ferrari and McLaren, and alongside it your relationship had crumbled and fallen apart. Charles and Max, the two drivers you were closest with and looked up to like brothers had also provided comfort, saying they would’ve done the same. But you knew it wasn’t true, they just said it to make you feel better. 

You and Lando hadn’t spoken since the day he’d packed everything up and left the apartment. You’d been absent when he’d left. 

Neither of you had the bravery to reach out yet and neither of you could too busy with other things. Yet, two months later you still missed him, longing for his comfort and endless love he’d given you. It made you feel sick, it all felt so misplaced and wrong. 

Both Sandy and Lisa had provided you with solace and comfort with their weekly movie nights at your apartment with buckets of ice cream. But it wasn’t the same, you still felt like you were missing something. Or someone. And either way, it would’ve been Lando. 

Life just felt so wrong without him. There wasn’t anyone to ramble to each time you came back from work, no one to sit down with and watch corny movies with popcorn with. No one to sit on the balcony with and watch the stars late at night, no one to go on day trips to beach with and build sandcastles only for them to be swallowed by the ocean at the end of the day. 

All of those things you’d found within Lando ever since Day 1. He was the person who kept you grounded, the person who’d stay up rubbing circles on your palms late at night when you couldn’t fall asleep or who would keep you company as you cooked in the kitchen.

And all because of a few dumb thoughts you’d lost it all in a mere few days. If you could turn back time you would’ve gone back and fixed everything. Now the only thing you could do was sit and wallow in regret and self pity.

<—————————————————————————————————>

You felt a soft tapping on your helmet, you looked up through the visor of your helmet to see Charles standing next to you, a wide spread grin on his face. 

You broke into a smile as you stood up, pulling your helmet off. 

“Hey old man, what’s up?” you greeted your former teammate with a hug. His smile dropped, replaced with a grimace upon hearing the nickname from you. 

“Came to see you, you traitor. Can’t believe you’d choose this colour over this colour.” he remarked in disgust as he pointed to your suit and then his own.  You had to admit, the bright red did look a lot nicer than the papaya orange you were currently sporting.

“Part of the job, I can’t say no unfortunately. It’ll grow onto me eventually.” you shrugged spreading your arms out and looking down at the papaya coloured suit. 

Charles clicked his tongue dismissively before his expression turned soft, something you’d seen too much of lately. 

“You sure you okay though? Have you spoken to-“ he cleared his throat, leaning in before whispering, “Lando.” like it was some sort of forbidden word. You bit back a laugh. 

“It’s okay you can say his name.” You chuckled, Charles eyed you suspiciously.

“Are you sure? Because the last time I did you cried for 2 hours.” He answered. 

You swatted him defensively, “That was ages ago!”

“That was last week.”

“Whatever.” You huffed, crossing your arms. 

“Will you talk to him?” Charles asked. 

“Nah, it’s fine though, we can’t talk. Not for now at least.” you told him, but your voice was strained as your eyes flickered around the garage. Charles knew you hadn’t taken breaking up with Lando well. As your “older brother” alongside Max the two of them made it their sole mission to keep you from harms way, that being Lando. 

He looked at you with pity, you caught his eye before scoffing. Wallowing in self pity was something you’d done too many times this year. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Charles.” You said, letting out a huff. 

“Like what, Y/N?” he prompted cautiously. You couldn’t get pissed at Charles, he knew it too. After all, that’s what a big brother did, annoy the shit out of you. 

“That you feel bad for me. I’m fine, I swear.” 

But you didn’t believe the words that came out from your mouth either. He chuckled as he ruffled your hair affectionately before you swatted his hand away. 

“I know you are, petite soeur.”

Your nose scrunched up at the nickname Charles had dubbed you ever since your first season. It meant little sister in French or something like that, you were yet to Google it.

He let out one of his contagious laughs before patting you on the back gently, before leaning in and whispering;

“But seriously, if you want Max and I can push him off the track anytime.” 

“Okay, time to go, old man.” you said as you shoved him out the garage door. He rounded the corner with one last dumb grin and salut. 

“See you out there, petite soeur!”

<—————————————————————————————————>

1 more lap to go. 

You could feel your foot getting a cramp from switching between the accelerator and brake, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your neck and your breathing was heavy. 

Right next to you, battling for P2 was Lando. Such a coincidence. Thanks universe, you thought as you turned the steering wheel as you rounded turn 3. Max was long gone in the distance probably nearing the checkered flag already leaving the rest of the grid in dust. 

Zhou and Stroll were out already both crashing into the same barriers at turn 7, something you were used to at this point. (IM JOKING, I love them)

In the corner of your eyes you could see and feel Lando closing in on you, pushing you off the track. 

You gripped the steering wheel, turning it in the direction of the Ferrari but he was quick to use this as a chance to slip in front of you as you both rounded a corner. You hit the steering wheel angrily as you watched Lando in front of you. 

A long strand of curse words left your mouth as you crossed the finish line. The FIA was sure to have fun with that.

 Your heart was pounding in your ears loudly as you pulled the car aside to a stop. Your team cheered, you’d gotten on the podium. But it wasn’t a win to you, you’d fallen for Lando’s terribly obvious trap and allowed him to take advantage. You felt like such a fool, he seemed to have that effect on you. 

Thanks, universe, you’re a pain in the ass, you thought as your team surrounded you celebrating loudly. Any thought of Lando disappeared in an instant as you were pulled into hugs from your team and instead replaced with smiles and laughter.

You were pulled up onto the platform next to Max, and Lando whom you avoided interacting with the entire podium stand part. Everything after that was a quick blur until the after race press conference. 

“Here we’re joined by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris and Y/N 

L/N.” 

You forced a smile, honestly the only thing you wanted right now was to be at home eating ice cream with Sandy and Lisa. Or be sleeping, you’d be okay with either of those options. Yet, here you were sitting on a couch alongside your friend and ex-boyfriend in front of a bunch of reporters.

You glanced over at Max who’d thoughtfully placed himself in between both you and Lando. Something you were sure to thank him for afterwards. He sent you a gentle smile, one you returned without hesitation.

The first couple of questions were pretty simple ones, you avoided adding onto Lando’s answers and he to yours and there was no need to. 

That was until a young female reporter took the opportunity to ask about you and Lando’s relationship. Something that caught you unprepared and by surprise.

“So Y/N and Lando,” she began, you could feel your heartbeat spiking as you looked around, every PR training you’d sat through instantly disappearing from your mind. 

“There’s been rumours going around that the seat transition wasn’t something that was thoroughly discussed before the contract signing. Is there something you’d like to add on about this?” 

You swallowed hard as you avoided meeting Lando’s gaze, one you could see in the corner of your eye. 

“N-no comment.” you managed to say.

“Right. So how about you and Lando’s relationship status, there’s been some sources claiming-“

“Okay. I think that’s enough. We’re here to answer questions about the race, nothing else.” Max cut off as he stepped in with a stern voice, one that was sure to make anyone go silent. You prayed to god that no one heard the giant sigh of relief that you let out after Max interjected. You could feel yourself shrinking under the stares of all the reporters and photographers as you sat in front of them. 

The rest of the conference went by in plain awkwardness, answers were now only answered by Max, yet another thing you had to thank him for. 

You finally exhaled as you stepped out of the conference room, Max behind you, Lando had gone out the other door. You leant against the empty corridor wall, head pressed against the cool plaster. 

“That was a nightmare.” you groaned loudly, the exhaustion obvious in your voice. Max let out a sigh as he crossed his arms disapprovingly. 

“That was unacceptable on their side to allow the reporter to keep asking such questions.” Max mused, anger tainted his voice. You let out a laugh as you turned to him. 

“Thanks, Maximilian.” you broke into a grin knowing how much he hated being called that. He huffed disapprovingly, “Maybe next time I wont save your sorry ass.”

“Okay, okay. Calm your farm, pal.” you replied as you both began walking down the corridor headed toward the entrance where there was sure to be a giant crowd waiting. 

“I’ll go get that reporter fired.” Max announced loudly despite it only being the two of you in the corridor. You looked up at him, holding back a laugh despite the look on his face being the opposite.

“Admirable goals, but it’s fine really. I’m sure Twitter will have a fun time tearing her apart.” you waved it off with a gentle smile knowing just how brutal the audience on Twitter could be.

Max chuckled, “Everything else okay though?” You knew instantly what he was talking about, you appreciated the concern, you really did but you could handle yourself. 

Your smile fell, replaced with narrow eyes and a clenched jaw as you eyed him.

“Did Charles put you up to this?” you asked him skeptically, he shook his head. 

“I’m allowed to worry about you too, you know.” he added with a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

“Thanks Maximilian, for everything.” 

“Okay, you can shut up now.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“Y/N?” 

“One second!” you called, trying to avoid the oil that was spattering into a puddle beside your face. You were currently in your father’s mechanic shop underneath a car working away at it. You were still blowing off steam after the press conference that had happened on the weekend and your father was more than happy to lend you the garage for just that. You knew some part of you wanted Lando to approach you after the race, even if it wasn’t to talk but just to say something, you know? 

But even if he had you were sure how you’d react. 

“Can you pass me the wrench?” you called to the unknown person. You heard a loud clatter of metal before a wrench was stuck in your face. 

“Thanks.” you grumbled as you took it from them, pausing as a shock of realisation hit you. 

Wait, that watch on their wrist.

Your dumbass tried sitting up on the board while still under the car. 

BAM. 

“Ouch, fucking hell.” you swore loudly as you pulled yourself out from underneath the car. Rubbing your forehead in pain as you stood up, before your eyes settled on the person in front of you. 

Your mind blanked as Lando stared back at you. You could see him biting back a laugh at your misfortune. He was in a white shirt, one button too many undone for you to know where this was going. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he stood watching you as you walked his way. 

“Fine. Laugh, you asshole.” you grumbled as you brushed past him. Gripping the wrench in your fist as you held back the strong urge to whack his head in with it. Lando laughed and you’d be lying if the sound of it didn’t still make your insides turn and do flips. 

“Calm down Twinkle Toes, I’m not here to laugh at you. I’m here to . . . apologise.” his tone turning serious, you let out an steady exhale. 

You missed being called that, it was a dumb nickname he’d given you as children, back when you were each other’s biggest rivals on the track. 

Twinkle Toes and Loverboy, a duo to rival Chandler and Joey. Or at least that’s what your dumb asses came up with at the time. 

You let the wrench fall from your grip and onto the bench with a loud metallic clatter, breaking the silence before you spoke. 

“Yeah.” you breathed, staring at the wall in attempt to not let your guard slide down so easily. 

“Want to go for a ride?”

You turned around with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed and all. Lando stared back at you, heat flushing up your cheeks as a smile tugged at his lips. 

“What?”

“C’mon, Twinkle Toes, let’s get out of here.” he said with a gentle nod of his head in the direction of his car parked outside. 

And that’s all it took for you to drop everything and follow him out the garage. 

<————————————————————————————-—————>

You let out a soft gasp when Lando pulled up at the track where you both used to race on during your karting days. The sun was already beginning to slip back the mountains and buildings and out of view, you bit your lip nervously as you opened the car door. 

Was this right? 

Were you making a big mistake? 

Despite your lingering doubts you followed him onto the empty track. The first few minutes of walking were full of silence, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable despite everything that had happened. It was peaceful of all things.

“I-“

“I-“

You both immediately retracted your words as you both began at the same time. You looked away, “God this worse than that movie we watched that one time.” you murmured with a soft laugh. Lando found himself chuckling knowing exactly which movie you were talking about. 

“Let me go first, then.” he offered, you nodded silently. A long string of silence filled the air, only the sound of your footsteps on the track could be heard. 

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Honestly? I would’ve done the same thing. I shouldn’t have given so easily on us, I should’ve given us a second chance. Because bloody hell these last two months without you have been absolute shit. I don’t even know who I am without you, and maybe in someway that’s a bad thing but I don’t care as long as I have you.” he stopped in his tracks and faced you, his dark green eyes reflecting the light in the sunset as it cast its gaze over his face. 

Your hand cupped his cheek softly, your heart fluttering when he pressed his face into your hand, loving how it fit perfectly. 

Just like that it was like you were both high schoolers again. Slipping out of class to steal kisses in the hallways before they were crowded with students. Sneaking out at night through your window to go walk around the streets late together. 

You swallowed hard and spoke.

“After everything happened, my life completely just stopped still. And it felt like I had lost half of who I was because the truth is, Lando, that you’re a part of me. Ever since we were kids it’s like without you i’m lost. I should’ve told you the moment they offered me the seat, I was just ashamed and scared. Because I wanted a future with you, because I still do. I want to marry you, have a family and grow old right next to you.”

You stared longingly into his eyes as he pulled you closer. You fell into his arms as they wrapped around you like your own protective shield. Because the truth was that Lando was your home. You let out a shaky breath, as you pulled back and leant in for a kiss only for your lips to be captured in a gentle motion. 

It was something out of a cheesy teen movie, one that the two of you would just hate - two figures kissing as the sun set in the back of a race track. 

“You’re crazy.” you whispered against his lips. 

“Crazy for you.” he whispered back, sending you both into fits of laughter. This was it, this was right, this was home. 

“C’mon, let’s go home Twinkle Toes.”

“After you, Loverboy.”

A/n: STOP ITS SO CRINGEY I WANNA DIEE

Jk.

Tysm for reading! I apologise again for the bad writing, this is just an old piece that I really wanted to get out there, I hope u cringed just as much as I did reading this! Stay safe and have an amazing day - xoxo takimakiiii (yes I changed my name it was long overdue lol)