#and even if he only gets five minutes of screen time i still can't wait to see it

[suddenly-frankenstein]

the fact that we will get a movie with Adam N as Jesus----

i can't stop thinking about it, this makes me so damn insane kshdisgdjdbd. so i have a little sketch! it might be fun i think

[keerysfreckles]

good graces — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: how you and lando celebrate after the dutch grand prix.

warnings: not proofread, fluff with a tiny tiny bit of smut!

a/n: WDYM LANDO IS A TWO TIME RACE WINNER IM SO 😭😭😭 also yes this is me coping with all the hate i saw on twt today

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

for the past hour you've been sat at the edge of your couch, watching your boyfriend and nineteen others drive around what feels like the longest track in the world.

you sadly couldn't attend the dutch grand prix this weekend, due to being needed at work friday and saturday. after many minutes of begging your boss over the phone, she reluctantly agreed to let you take sunday and monday off. you told her you wanted to be there for lando, which wasn't a total lie. you were rooting for him every single second of this race. even if it's from the couch of your shared apartment in monaco.

it was nearing the end of the race, with less than fifteen laps to go. your nails were extremely worn down from biting them during every pit stop and radio message from either lando or max, hoping the ones from your boyfriend sounded positive.

you continue watching, beginning to pace behind the back of your couch, bcoming more hopeful as the number of laps left decreases. until there's just one lap to go.

you aren't sure if you scream, cry, or jump up and down when lando crosses the finish line first. maybe it was a combination of all three.

you can't help but laugh slightly when small tears run over your cheeks, that were beginning to hurt from smiling so much. you watched in awe as lando took his position on the top step of the podium.

you hummed along with the familiar tune of the british national anthem. (thanks to lando for playing it for four hours straight once). streamers were thrown and champagne was popped as you continued smiling widely at the sight of your boyfriend being showered in the love he deserves.

ten minutes after you turned the tv off, your phone began to rang. you didn't even have to look at the screen to know it was lando calling.

"baby, i won! again!" his bright laugh fills your living room as you put him on speaker phone.

"i'm so so proud of you lan," you smile again as you congratulate him.

"did you watch the whole thing?"

you nod, "of course. what kind of girlfriend would i be if i didn't want my boyfriend's race," you tease. he asks you this everytime you can't attend a race in person.

you and lando continue talking for a few moments before he's being rushed out of his drivers room for his duties in the media pen.

"i'll be home tonight, okay? i love you," lando promises. you believe him, knowing it's only a two hour flight.

"i love you too, and i'll be waiting."

as soon as lando hangs up, you throw your phone onto the couch and run to the kitchen.

you went with lando to miami. you got to see his maiden win. you got to celebrate with him, in his driver room, at the party, and in his hotel. the two of you ordered so much room service you felt like you couldn't move the next day.

yes you still celebrated, but it didn't feel like a traditional celebration to you. so you had a plan. a great plan. you had five solid hours to execute it.

you grabbed a scrap piece of paper from the fridge. (a tic-tac-toe match lando demanded he hang on the fridge since it was the first time he beat you). you started scribbling down your ideas.

in five hours, you planned on getting a plain cake to decorate for lando. you wanted to blow up balloons (papaya color of course) and write cute messages on them. and if you had time you'd hang up matching papaya streamers.

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

with thirty minutes to spare, you managed to complete everything on your small list. the vanilla cake with orange decorations was sitting in the fridge, waiting for lando's arrival.

balloons and streamers were littered around the kitchen and living room. a few balloons had doodles of stars and trophies, while others had small phrases. "race winner!!" and "happy second win baby!" were used the most.

you debated on changing your clothes. you didn't know why you even debated it. lando's told you probably a million times that he loves you in anything.

before he arrived you decided changing into one of his shirts, keeping the leggings you had on from the rest of the day.

you hear a set of keys jiggling the door knob open. you can't help but become giddy.

there he was. your boyfriend. your race winner.

"hi baby," he smiles instantly as you run over to him. you mumble some sort of short greeting back before smothering him in kisses. making sure not to miss any spots on his face. you kiss both of his cheeks, his nose, his left temple, his jaw (multiple times), and finally place a long kiss on his lips.

you wrap your arms loosely around his neck so you can look up at him to ask, "so how's my two time race winner feeling?"

his hands roam slowly around your waist, as if he's trying to remember the feeling of you, as if he didn't see you earlier in the week.

"i'm doing amazing," lando smiles, "even more amazing that i'm home with you." he leans forward to kiss your forehead, and once he leans back he finally notices the orange decorations around the room.

"what's all this?" he laughs.

you squirm out of his arms to go towards the fridge. he laughs again but his smile grows. "you got me a cake?"

you nod, "of course. the race winner deserves a cake!"

you set it down and get ready to serve yourself and lando slices, however his hand on your wrists stops you from opening the drawer. it moves slightly to interlock his fingers with yours, sending chills up your arm and down your spine.

"i know how excited you are about this cake, but how about we celebrate differently? then afterwards we can have the cake," his voice dropped to a whisper by the end of his sentence. he's stepped closer to you, making you have to look up at him slightly.

"are you sure that's what you want?" you decide to start teasing him. "i mean you're probably more than tired. wanting to do nothing but sleep all this excitement off."

lando shakes his head as fast as he possibly can, "no, no, i definitely don't want to just sleep it off."

you simply giggle before leaning up to press a passionate kiss to his lips. he reciprocates as his hands move to your jaw. his thumbs press firmly onto your cheeks.

he pulls back first, both of you slightly panting for air.

before you can get another word out, wanting to tease lando just a little further, he easily picks you up to bring you to the bedroom. you can't help but laugh as he begins kissing down your neck. your grip never falters on his shoulders as he closes the door behind him.

he sets you down on the bed, pushing you back until your head hits the pillows.

"shouldn't i be giving you some kind of special treatment? you won the race, not me," you try to negotiate while he seems to be preoccupied by running his hands under his your shirt.

"and waste all this adrenaline?" he removes your shirt, before leaving a trail of kisses up to your jaw. "you and i both know neither of us want that."

you can't possibly say no to him. just the thought of how the night could go makes your insides flutter with excitement and the pool between your legs grow.

his large hands rest on your bare waist and on your jaw. his thumb presses over your bottom lip gently as he waits for an answer.

silently, your hands move from his shoulders to the hair at the back of his neck. you thread your fingers through the small mullet he has started growing, before pulling his lips down to meet yours. you hope this gives him the answer you meant to share. you smile against his lips as you feel his hands roam down to where you need him more than ever.

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

you lay on lando's bare chest, tracing over the veins in his hand thats placed over his stomach. his curls are messy and eyes are full of lust and tiredness. yours are as well, and you know you're going to be sore tomorrow morning.

lando kisses the top of your head, "you know, i think we deserve some cake."

you smile up at him and kiss his jaw. your silent way of saying a million things at once, but this one meaning thank you and i love you.

you turn and reach over the edge of the bed to grab your shirt lando threw somewhere in the room. you feel a light grip at your waist, making you smile knowing lando's always finding ways to protect you.

goosebumps rise on your legs as you adjust the shirt over your torso on your way to the kitchen. you move as quick as you can to grah the cake and two forks. you can't be bothered to cut and serve the cake at the moment.

"no plates?" lando chuckles as you hand him the cake while you readjust yourself to sit in front of him.

"i'm proud of you lando," you smile at him after taking a bite.

his dimples show up when he smiles, "thank you baby."

he leans forward to kiss you which makes you smile. he tastes sweet, a combination of the cake and moments you shared only minutes ago. his lips fit comfortably against yours, making you feel at home.

[jellyfishsthings]

Nerves and Stolen Kisses

I have been toying with the idea of writing a fic about him for quite sometime and after last weekend I just had to. Estelle ( Ollie's rumoured gf is mentioned here but it is a fake relationship for PR reasons.) Also Paul Aron has a gf... friends to lovers trope.

Shoutout to @httpiastri for the inspiration

The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was fast approaching. And Ollie was a jumble of nerves and excitement as usual. Since the early hour of the day, he opened the curtains letting the sun into the room and you groaned into the pillow.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us.”

“No, you do. I don't know why I came.”

“Because I am your bestest friend and I paid for your ticket and let you stay with me.”

“Both of which are for your benefit.”

“Come on….”

“Fine.” You say with a dejected sigh as you get up and you both get ready for the day. David, Ollie's dad was already waiting for you and you headed towards the paddock.

Everything was a frenzy and was passing by so quickly. As Ollie got into the garage and got ready for the quali you headed towards the stands trying to find Cassie, Paul's long-term girlfriend. Throughout the years you have formed a unique friendship. She was the only one who knew about your crush on Ollie and she teased you endlessly about it. Ollie and you had been best friends for the better part of your life, joint to the hip, having endless sleepovers, even if Dad didn't approve.

It was an endless nightmare being close enough to get a taste of all the what ifs, but never experiencing them.

“Do you and your lover boy share a room, huh?”

“It's not like that and you know it, Cassandra.”

“Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?”

“So much. You have no idea. Yesterday I couldn't sleep and as the hours passed, he came closer and closer. He ended up holding me in his sleep. And I felt so bad because of Estelle. I know that they aren't really together and it's for PR, but still, I feel awful because technically I am the other woman… and she is just so nice and sweet. Never overstepping, I think she knows.”

We both stay quiet after that as the session continues.

“You know… whatever the case. You both love each other, platonically or not.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say as I watch the times set by all the drivers, Ollie having the fastest one yet.

“Looks like your man is on pole.”

We both make our way through the paddock, trying to pass the roaring sea of fans and we hand out already-signed autographs to anyone who asks for them. When we finally arrive, we part ways, before making promises about having dinner together at a restaurant Cassie wanted to try. And I head towards the Prema garage finding two beaming Bearmans, hugging.

“Hey Bear. Did you drive fast enough?” You call at him. And he grins like an idiot before swooping you into a tight hug spinning you. His laughter echoes in your ears as he sets you down.

“Yeah I drove fast enough, you minx.”

“Good. Now let's go. We are having dinner with Paul and Cassie in four hours and I want to see the city.”

“Give me five minutes to change and we are good to go.”

The afternoon is spent visiting local stores, trying to communicate in scrappy English and making terrible puns with products or street names. When they finally head to the restaurant their sides hurt from laughing. Dinner passed by as quickly as it came. As everyone says, time flies by when you are with the people you love.

Just as they open the door for their hotel room, Ollie flops in the bed as you head towards your computer and open it as hoards of emails and messages appear on the screen. Great more deadlines and essays to write until the end of the week.

“Leave it. We can pretend that we have nothing to do and watch a movie or local TV and try to understand what the hell is going on.”

“Thanks Bear. But I can't, as tempting as your offer is. Go to sleep, I will join you soon.”

And so you sit in front of your computer, ending essay after essay, sending them on time, until your eyes hurt from the pale blue light. The bed seems more welcoming than ever before as Ollie starfishes the entire length of it and his soft snores fill the empty space. Yeah, maybe it's time to call it a day.

An awful sound echoes in the room and eventually wakes you.

“I swear if it's one more ad I will jump from the window.” You grumble into your pillow as you steal the blankets and turn yourself into a burrito.

Ollie hisses as he opens his phone only to find a ton of messages and many missed calls from Ferrari. He dials Fred back as he moves towards the bathroom, trying to let you steal a few more minutes of much needed sleep.

When he emerges back in the room he sits down in front of you, his back supported on the bed.

“Ols, what's going on?”

“Carlos has an appendix”

“Oh no. Is he having surgery?”

“Yeah.” He says softly. “They want me to replace him.”

“What?” At that you are fully awake. Your hair is a netted nest and you look at him in shock. He looks at you, you his best friend who would look like a mess to anyone else but to him you look like the most beautiful and amazing creature in the world. Your mere presence has a more calming effect on him than anything else. If it weren't for you, he would have already lost his mind. “How? When? I…”

“We need to get to the paddock, if I don't want to miss FP3. I will wake up Dad and break the news to him.”

Soon after you enter the paddock and thousands of reporters try to get a better look at Ollie, flashing their cameras at you and bombarding you with questions as you make your way to the Ferrari garage and mechanics steal Ollie from you and David as they set to work quickly. David looks pale and sick as he paces into the garage trying to control his nerves through the FP3 and the Quali. When Ollie finally got off the car when he scored the 11th place, missing Q2 only by 3 hundreds of a second, you knew that this was it. He was finally shining like the bright star he was. He had done more than enough, his raw talent showing with barely one hour to get used to the car. And as mechanics and reporters closed around him. You couldn't help but feel like you didn't belong here. Where did you fit in? The reality hit you and it hit you hard. You hid in the back corners of the garage, eyes glued to the screen as everyone passed by without acknowledging you. You would happily hide in the shadows where he shined but this world wasn't meant for you. The anxiety was picking up at you, eating you alive from the inside.

And when Ollie got too close to the wall, your heart stopped beating. He was driving a car that was twice as fast and twice as dangerous than his normal F2 car. It was too much. The sound, the danger, everything really. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and you needed a way out. As you hide behind the garage you call the one person who could understand. Terri picks up in the second ring her soft voice already calming you.

“Hey love. Is everything alright?”

“How do you do it? How can you stand back and do nothing?”

“You love him, don't you sweetheart?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Well … no I always hoped but… whatever the case, to answer your question you simply do it, you just have to. A driver needs his support system and you are it for him. You are his forever person, whether that is romantically or not. He needs to be near you and as much nervous as you are, so is he. Without you he would be lost, believe me I know my son. And I can bet you that as much as your heart breaks right now, you are also immensely proud.”

“Of course I am. But where do I fit in, in this world.”

“Right beside him, love.”

“Thanks Terri. Please call David. I think he is losing his mind and he is sick with worry.” You say chuckling before saying your goodbyes and head back towards the garage. The session is already over and Ollie is nowhere in sight.

Ollie plays with the power button of his phone trying to calm down but to no avail. The lock screen is a photo of the two of you. It was last summer both your skins flushed and hair slightly wet and tangled. You both smile at the camera and your eyes look bright with happiness. He feels slightly lighter but he knows that there is an impending panic attack and so he turns to the one person who could help him in this situation.

"I got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "How are you doing?”

Ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. His eyes are stuck on the floor, his silence is defeaning. When he still doesn't answer, your heart rate picks up. Is something really wrong?

You make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before. Not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year, not when he was cheated out from the Formula 3 championship. Once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"Ollie, talk to me," you plead, holding back the tears that starts to form on your eyes and threatento spill. It's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. Not now, not when he needs you this much.

"I'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I'm so nervous, I don't know what to do."

It's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. Ollie, your usually so calm and collected best friend is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. He is a messy jumble of nerves.

"I get that. One hundred per cent. But.." your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "This is your dream. It's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance.”

"And it's not just any car, it's a Ferrari. Do you realize how cool that is? Do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" You smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. Even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous, not that you would ever tell him that. "You would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"But what if I ruin it?" His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "What if I go out there and I'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've made by even putting me in the academy? What if-"

"It won't happen." His eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "You're too good to do that. You'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

Finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. It's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "I'll try my best to make you proud."

“I'm always proud of you, you mufflehead.”

A laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. His heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. But his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter. And soon enough his heartbeat slows to normal.

“I bet that in twenty four hours not only will you finish the race, you will score points and beat Max Verstappen.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves” he says chuckling. “God, my neck is killing me.”

“Sit down. I've got you.” And so you start massaging his neck. It's stiff and hard under your hands and he lets a small groan as you untangle one of the knots that were quite painful. After a few minutes he is putty in your hands, his eyes closed, trusting you completely and feeling at ease for the first time in the past two days.

True to your world, Ollie crosses the finish line in seventh place, having gained points in his debut. But the one thing that kept him calm through the process was the thought that she was waiting for him in the cool down room. When the race finishes and drives the car back home he jumps from his seat and he can't get fast enough to her. People around him are praising him and congratulating him but they all fall to deaf eyes.

When he finally gets into the room to change into new fireproofs, she is patiently waiting for him. Her eyes are a little misty and her face flushed.

“I told you.”

“I didn't beat Max.”

“Still.”

She closes in on him and her hands are thrown around his neck, he reciprocates the hug immediately as his heart beat finally slows down. They doth draw away after a while only for him to dive back into her and kiss her firmly on the lips. Shock petrifies her and when he stops, he places his forehead on top of hers. He is a flustered mess and he is mumbling apologies, before she reconnects their lips.

For the following hours Ollie sports a shit-eating grin on his face. Everyone thinks that it is because of his amazing performance and not for kissing the girl that held his heart captive since they were five years old.

[withleeknow]

cats and soup.

note: i have a newfound obsession and it's cats and soup so this might be a little niche but it's meant for me and i just wanted to word vomit lmfao

cats and soup, that's your latest obsession. all it took was five minutes of your friend introducing you to the game before you were completely captivated by the world of cute little animated cats making soup on your phone.

so much so that you had to show your boyfriend.

obviously. it's a game about cats. who else would you rather squeal about it with?

though, much to your disappointment, minho doesn't seem very impressed as you try to get him to look at your phone screen for more than ten seconds.

okay. little meanie.

"why would you need to play a game like this when you have our actual babies right over there?"

"i have them in here too!" you'd argue. "look! i named them soonie, doongie and dori. aren't they so cute? soonie is on soup duty, doongie is chopping carrots, and dori is grating cabbages. i even got them cute little hats!"

the mention of his cats featured in the game gets minho to spare you a glance, intrigued for a fleeting moment before he's turning away again.

you'd scowl at his refusal to entertain you but then you'd admit defeat pretty quickly in favor of immersing in your phone once more. it's cats !! making soups !!

it's not unusual for you two to be in separate bubbles while sitting side by side. you're not one of those couples who has to do everything with each other, but you did kinda hope that this would be something for you to have fun with together.

but oh well, if minho isn't interested, then you can't force him. the game is still fun though. even though you go to bed that night a little bummed out, you still fall asleep thinking about getting a black kitten and naming it mimo. it'd be cute, maybe you'd even put him on lemon squeezing duty.

fast forward to the next morning, when he literally shakes you awake at the ass crack of dawn, calling your name frantically.

your first thought is the house must be burning down, because lee minho never acts like this.

"i finally got you!"

"you got me what?"

"i got your cat!"

"what?"

actually, on second thought, the only time that you've seen him this hyped up was when you'd gotten you two matching pjs with soonie, doongie and dori printed on them.

"see?!" then the guy is full on shoving his phone in your face, the sudden brightness of his screen almost taking your eyes out that you have to push his hand away.

"min!"

"sorry. here."

he'd lower the brightness and hold the device a safe distance from your face, impatiently waiting for your eyes to adjust to whatever it is that he's trying to show you.

it's a cat.

an animated cat.

specifically, a cats and soup animated cat, named after you.

"you named a cat after me?"

"yeah i was waiting for ages to get another black cat. i got one first and named it after me. now we can be a black cat couple. look at the cat tower i got us-"

"minho, what the fuck? when did you even start playing?"

"i downloaded it after you fell asleep."

"have you been playing all night? did you even sleep?"

"no, but that's beside the point. look, i'm trying to show you!"

you love him, you do. truly. completely. most ardently. you recognize that this is one of the cutest things that he's done. but jesus christ...

"it's sunday. it's 6 in the morning."

"yeah i know, but-"

"i'll look at it later."

"you're up, you can look now. i got you a potted plant that grows from your head and-"

"lee minho, let me fucking go back to sleep!"

you may have unintentionally created a monster.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne

[astrophileous]

hi! is there any chance you could write a scenario for spencer with a plus sized reader? love your writing! congrats on the milestone and happy birthday month 💕

tyyy so much anon 🥺❤️ I hope you're happy with how this turned out 💞

Warning(s): fem!plus-sized!reader; I legit think there's no warning for this. not even swearing. but pls lmk???

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer looked down when he felt you shuffle against him. "Cold?"

The two of you were lounging on the couch with Spencer sitting on one of its end and your head leaning on his chest. Your legs were curled up on the cushion underneath a tiny blanket, the flimsy material barely doing anything as you pressed yourself even closer towards your boyfriend, trying to chase the warmth from his body heat to combat the chill running down your spine. Spencer noticed what you were trying to do and instantly tugged at the other blanket on his lap, laying the material gently around you and smiling when he heard you sigh in appreciation.

"What about you, Spence?"

"I'll be fine. I run hot."

"Mmh. Can't argue with that."

Spencer squeezed your thigh in response to your cheeky remark, your whole body shaking in laughter before you focused your attention back on the TV screen ahead.

It was a rarity for Spencer to find himself home safely at 8 o'clock on a Friday night, not to mention to have you home at the same time as him instead of at the ER tending to patients. On nights like this, Spencer made sure to always cherish the time with you in whatever way you liked, even if it meant he had to sit through nearly five hours of a Hallmark movie marathon after stuffing his stomach full with greasy Chinese takeouts.

The man was head over heels in love with you, and he would do just about anything to keep that mesmerizing smile permanently on your face.

"That's adorable," you said breathlessly after a few minutes of silence.

Spencer didn't want to admit that he had just spent the last ten minutes getting absolutely gobsmacked by your beauty, so he quickly tore his gaze away and directed it back towards the TV screen. His confusion only tripled in size when he saw that nothing particularly stood out from the scene. It was just another shot of the two main characters having yet another one of their silly little arguments as a cheesy jingle played in the background.

"What is happening?" Spencer asked at last.

You glanced at his question and scoffed. "You weren't paying attention again, were you?"

Spencer had the audacity to grin, and it was pretty lucky of him to have been blessed with such a pretty face that could melt even the hardest ice around your heart.

"Okay, handsome. Listen carefully. So, what happened is, the girl—"

"Bess?"

"Yes, Bess. Well, she and Aidan decided to meet for lunch to talk about the deed to the land, right? But that talk didn't really lead anywhere as they ended up fighting, again, and Bess walked away from the restaurant. Aidan ran after her and they fought again on the sidewalk, but then they got interrupted by the rain."

"Of course. The rain. How original."

You hid your bemused smile before continuing, "The two of them ran for cover in this little bookstore after that. Bess was shivering because she was wearing this little black thing, and Aidan noticed. So like the gentleman he is, he took off his suit jacket and gave it to Bess. They both ended up spending a couple of hours in that little bookstore waiting for the rain to stop, and Bess wore Aidan's jacket for the rest of the day. She didn't notice she still had it until she went home in the evening."

Spencer nodded along as he waited for your recount to finish, expecting to find clarity by the end of it only to be met with an even bigger confusion than before.

"I still don't get it. You thought that it was adorable that... they got caught in the rain?"

"And they call you a genius?" you teased, shrieking when Spencer lunged forward to tickle your sides. "No, silly. Not the rain. The jacket."

"The jacket?"

"Yeah. I think it's nice." You smiled, your eyes crinkling as you turned back towards the TV. "I've always loved that. When the guy gives something of his for the girl to wear. His T-shirt, his jacket, his sweater. Anything. The girl would wear his clothes and they'd usually look too big on her and it all just feels so... domestic. There's a sense of belonging in the gesture itself, sort of a non-verbal way of him claiming the girl as his. A little territorial, perhaps. But I personally find the whole thing adorable."

After he was done hearing your explanation, Spencer found himself at loss for words. "I didn't know that. That's actually a thing?"

"It's a pretty common trope in romance books and movies. One of my favorites, too."

"And you like that? Having your boyfriend lend you his clothes to wear?"

"Well, I don't know. I, uh, I actually never tried it myself." You suddenly grew bashful as you started playing with the hem of your pajamas top. "Everyone I've dated has always been smaller than me, so I never got the chance to experience any of that."

"Sweetheart—"

"Relax, Spencer. It's fine," you assured him. "I'm not sad about it. Do I feel like missing out sometimes? Yes, maybe, but it's not like it's the end of the world. I'll survive just fine. Promise."

You resumed watching the rest of the movie after that, the short conversation being shoved to the back of your mind as you relished in the final scene of the movie where the guy, finally and inevitably, managed to win over the girl with an arduous chase through the airport concluded by a romantic confession in front of gate 4E.

After movie night on Friday, the following week unraveled in a hectic frenzy for you. The ER where you worked saw a full house nearly every single night, forcing you to take not only one, not two, but three extra shifts in a single week. By the time the next Friday rolled around, you were exhausted beyond belief, collapsing face first into bed as soon as you arrived home without even waiting for Spencer to get back from his week-long case in Idaho.

The following morning, you woke up to a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. You followed the scent in your sleepy haze until you came face to face with your boyfriend standing behind the stove, unruly curls and a handsome smile as he glanced up at the sound of your footsteps. You couldn't even imagine how dishelved you looked in that moment—with dried drool around your lips and pillow imprints on your cheek—but the way Spencer assessed you from the distance, it made you feel as though you were meant to be sculpted as a flawless copy of Aphrodite herself.

"Good morning, gorgeous," your boyfriend greeted as he pushed a plate of pancakes across the counter. "Breakfast?"

The two of you spent the entirety of breakfast telling each other about your respective week while enjoying Spencer's pancakes that, surprisingly, tasted even better than they smelled. After the dishes were washed, Spencer grabbed your hand and started leading you back towards your shared bedroom.

"Come with me for a moment. I wanna show you something," he said.

You trailed after Spencer in curiosity, compliantly fulfilling his order to sit on the bed as he vanished into the ensuite. Three minutes later, Spencer reappeared in front of you, donning a grin so enormous that it nearly distracted you from the foreign pair of clothes he had changed himself into.

"What do you think?" Spencer asked enthusiastically.

"What do I think?"

"Yeah!"

"It's cute, Spencer. Is it new?" Spencer nodded eagerly, confirming your suspicion. "I see. It's kinda... too big for you, don't you think?"

The hoodie Spencer was wearing came in your favorite color, but it hung on his lanky frame almost like a poncho. Spencer still looked good in it, though. You admired his talent to still appear attractive even when he was wearing something that didn't fit him properly.

"I picked out a bigger size on purpose," Spencer revealed, taking off the hoodie before extending it towards you. "Here, try it. I went two sizes above your usual so it should feel roomy."

Your perplexed stare zeroed in on the clothing in Spencer's hand. "Wait. I don't understand. Did you buy this for me?"

"Um, no? Well, technically yes." Spencer rubbed his neck, suddenly turning sheepish as his gaze found your eyes. "Remember last week when you told me about girls borrowing their boyfriends' clothes? And how you never got to experience that? Well, I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I went ahead and ordered this hoodie for myself but in a larger size. That way, you can steal it from me from time to time. Have something of mine you can wear when you want to."

Silence descended into the room in the wake of Spencer's declaration.

His heart was a sonorous thumping inside his chest. Spencer waited for you to say something, but your voice never came. It wasn't until the first sob broke through the quietude did Spencer realize that you were actually crying.

"Sweetheart? Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?"

The man knelt in front of you in no time, his palm clenching at the side as if he was ready to go into battle to fight whatever or whoever caused the shed tears in your eyes. You lifted your head just enough to see him, smiling shakily when you saw the taut lines above the bridge of his nose.

"I can't believe you bought this hoodie for me," you muttered once your sobs had subsided.

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's why you cried? Because I bought you a hoodie?"

"It's not just because of a hoodie, Spence. It's the fact that you cared. You listened to my silly thoughts and you remembered." You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, feeling him melt against the touch. "This is the nicest, most considerate thing anyone has ever done for me."

"That just breaks my heart, gorgeous. You deserve so much more. I'm literally doing the bare minimum."

"No, you're not. You're doing so much. You're doing everything, Spencer."

You kissed him, then. Urgently and vehemently; trying to convey just how intensely your heart felt for him. When you pulled away, Spencer was wearing a big smile undoubtedly identical to your own.

"I love you so much, Spencer. You know that, right?"

Spencer's smile blossomed. In his heart, he sketched the way your face looked in that moment to burn your beauty into the depth of his mind.

"Not as much as I love you, sweetheart."

[purplecoffee13]

Nemesis with Benefits - Part 1

Summary: “You got cheated on, and Harry is the one your ex cheated with. You hate him, he hates you, and the universe seems to hate the both of you, because you keep being thrown into the same spaces.”

Wc: 3.3k

Tropes: enemies to lovers

Warning: mentions of cheating, foul language

A/N: Hey guys! I’m going to see Taylor this weekend, but I wanted to give you the first part of my new series before I log off for the weekend. I know Harry is sounding quite unlikable, because he is, but it is a slow burn so give it some time and let him explain!!!!! Enjoy xxx

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2 is up!!!

It has been almost three weeks since you and your ex-boyfriend Dylan have broken up. You were heartbroken when you found out he cheated on you, and you still aren't over it in even the slightest. It was just unfathomable to you. How could he cheat on you and just step from one relationship into another?

Yes, that's right, Dylan immediately started dating the guy he cheated on you with. You couldn't believe when you first heard who it was, but it also didn't surprise you much.

Harry has had it out for you from the moment you and Dylan first started dating. You had no idea why, but now that those two are together, you finally understand. He was jealous of you. He wanted Dylan all to himself and— well, he succeeded. The fucking prick.

You had been trying to get over the humiliation and sadness, but it proved to be very hard. You had been in love with Dylan for so long, long before the two of you even started dating, and it was your first real relationship. You couldn't just move on that quickly.

But you were done. Done with crying and whining and bitching about it. It was like some sort of switch had turned, like the first stage of the moving on process had worn out. It was time to try some other methods of getting over Dylan. You finally took the advice from your friends, and tonight was your first date since the break-up.

You had downloaded tinder, and found yourself multiple matches. One guy named Brady, asked you out for drinks tonight, and you said yes. And so, the second stage of moving on commenced.

Now you're in one of the bar's booths, waiting for Brady to show up. He was handsome in his pictures, and he seems like a nice guy. You fiddle with your hands as you wait. You know that if something is going to happen between the two of you, it won't be serious or permanent, but you can't help but be nervous anyway.

You agreed to meet up at nine, and right now it's ten minutes past nine. A pit grows in your stomach as you sip on your beer. He wouldn't be standing you up, would he?

You wait and wait until it's a quarter to ten, and tears prickle in your eyes. What a disaster. How could you even think that this was a good idea?

You flag down a waitress and pay for the beers you drank as you waited. It isn't until you stand up that you realize how many it were. You are quite the lightweight, so five beers on a stomach filled with only a salad for dinner wasn't the best idea.

You walk out of the bar, and grab your phone to order an Uber. That is when you spot someone sitting on the bench in front of the bar, and you groan aloud.

Sitting on the stupid bench is stupid Harry, the guy which Dylan cheated on you with. Out of all people, you just had to run into him. He looks up upon hearing you groan, and the distaste on his face at the sight of you almost makes it look like you're the one Dylan cheated with on him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Harry asks, putting a cigarette to his mouth, and holding a lighter to it to turn it on.

"To ruin your relationship with your boyfriend— Oh no wait, that was you! Asshole..." You mutter as you roll your eyes. You turn around, almost falling over at the speed with which you did, but you are quick to steady yourself. You squint at your screen as you search for the Uber app in your phone.

"Fuck you." Harry murmurs under his breath, and you flip him off without turning around. You don't want to be around this guy, so you start walking away from him. Might as well warm yourself up as you wait for your Uber to arrive. If you can find the damn app...

Then a car honks and before you have time to look up, you are pulled into someone's arms. You look up from your phone and see a white car driving by, still honking at you, and when you turn around to see who is holding you, Harry's eyes meet yours. Once having regained your senses, you push him away.

"Get off of me!" You growl at him, dropping your phone accidentally.

"Are you stupid?! How fucking pissed are you to not notice a car coming straight at you—" Harry barks back at you as he picks up your phone, and hands it to you. You snatch it away, disgusted with the fact that he is touching your stuff.

"Shut up!" You shout at him with a wavering voice, too overwhelmed by everything. You are on the brink of crying. He seems to notice and quiets down.

"I'll bring you home." He mumbles softly, after you had time to breathe for a second and steady yourself. You frown at him, looking for even the slightest hint of deception—because what else is there to the guy who your boyfriend cheated on you with—but you can't find it.

"You are the last person I would ever step into a car with." You glare at him, crossing your arms. Harry rolls his eyes.

"You think you're my number one choice? No, but I'm not gonna let your drunk ass get run over." He argues back, seeming to be equally as irritated with you as you are with him.

"Yeah, because you're the picture of decency and chivalry." You cross your arms. The nerve of this guy! Trying to be all gentleman like when you know that he is nothing more than a pig.

Harry clenches his jaw, and you can tell he is ready to snap at you. You are waiting for him to start cussing you out—and there is a clear hesitation in his eyes—but he doesn't follow through. He merely sighs.

"Look, I'm not going to force you into my car. Because contrary to what you might believe, I do have some common decency, but I am not going to leave you outside a pub, drunk and alone." Harry explains, trying to catch your eyes as best as he can but you are avoiding his stare, afraid to see the sincerity behind them. "So, I either bring you home, or wait for an Uber with you."

You think it over for a few seconds, but your train of thought is interrupted when your name is shouted from a distance. You look in the way where the sound came from, and see Rebecca—a friend from class—wave at you with a big smile on her face. You wave, then turn back to Harry.

"Fuck. you."

You articulate the words slowly, hoping they marinate in his head, as you glare him down with the genuine spite you have felt from the moment you were made aware of the betrayal. You don't give him the chance to respond or even process what you just said, you just walk away.

You don't look back at Harry either, because you are sure that the hint of guilt that presses down on your chest is translating to your face, but you don't want to give in to it. Dylan betrayed you, and while he is the more culpable one in the situation, Harry did this too. He knew you and Dylan were together, and he still did what he did. The guilt transforms into a sadness as your mind wonders, how much did he have to hate you to do this to you?

You shake off the thought and paint a smile on your face as you reach Rebecca. She pulls you into an embrace and asks you how you are doing, and you answer that you're doing well.

"Was that... Harry?" She asks, whispering his name as if it would be a crime to say it out loud. The corner of your mouth tugs up.

"Yup." You nod.

"What did he want from you?" She glares at the place where Harry stands— or stood, because by the time you turn around, he is gone. You stare at the pavement, your body trying to push away that wave of emotional pain that seeing Harry instigated.

"I have no idea."

*************** *************** ***************

Few days later

You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity desk. Lipstick still in hand, you analyze your own face. Your make-up sits pretty on your face, painting the image of a woman who has her life together. But the truth couldn't be further from that.

Tonight, you're attending a birthday dinner of one of your friends, Benjamin, in a restaurant in the city. You truly were looking forward to it, but now that you and Dylan aren't together anymore, the fun event has turned into something you have been dreading.

You got to know Dylan through Benjamin. Benjamin was in your first project group ever at Uni. The two of you bonded and have been very close ever since. Benjamin is the type of person that knows a lot of people, and Harry is one of those people

Harry and Benjamin went to high school together. At least, that's what Benjamin told you when he introduced you to Harry at that one party all those years ago. It was at a random fraternity party on campus at the end of the first year, and it is where you met Dylan. Harry and him were roommates, so they had come together.

It was a cobweb of connections, and you have met a lot of people through Benjamin, but you really clicked with Dylan that night. Of course, now that doesn't seem to hold any value anymore, but you can't change the night you met Dylan into a rotten memory. It is sealed with some kind of glass that will always keep it pretty, innocent, sweet, and— well, just lovely.

It's what is going to make it extra hard to see Dylan with Harry tonight. You were happy to celebrate the birthday of your friend, of course, but you definitely weren't looking forward to seeing your ex and the guy he cheated on you with be together, as like— a couple.

You were aware that things like this would happen eventually—because that's what happened when you date someone in the friend group—but that doesn't make it easier. Luckily, a lot of your other friends will be there too.

Rebecca picks you up a good half hour before the dinner starts, and you drive into the city with music blasting through the speakers. You try to clear your head by letting the music take over every part of your brain, but the anxious pit in your stomach can't seem to be contained.

After parking the car a bit further down the street, you and Rebecca make your way to the Italian restaurant. You're about five minutes late—the traffic was worse than expected—so you both hurry over to the corner where the others are already sitting and chatting.

Benjamin gasps when he sees you and pulls you in for a big hug. You smile and congratulate him before handing him the bag which contains his gift. While he turns around and places it on the table, you take the opportunity to scan the room. It doesn't take long to spot Harry—you had felt his presence since you got here—but your eyes can't seem to find Dylan.

You don't allow yourself to feel any relief, as there might be a chance he is still in the bathroom. But when Benjamin tells everyone to sit down, placing you on his left and Harry on his right, you see that all the chairs are filled. Apparently Benjamin senses your confusion, because he leans in and whispers in your ear:

"He didn't come."

The words grant an overwhelming release of emotions that were making you feel like shit, and you start feeling like maybe you can enjoy tonight after all. Partly, at least. You frown; It is weird that Dylan wouldn't come to Benjamin's birthday. He was invited; you were next to him when he got the text.

You take a deep breath and decide that this isn't something you should be focusing on tonight. Alas, you are freed from the fucker for now. You should least enjoy it while you can.

You are seated next to Benjamin, on his left side. Harry is seated on his right side, keeping you apart. Since you are both important to Benjamin, he wants the two of you close to him, but not to each other.

The first course comes around pretty fast, and along with the two glasses of wine you down in record time, everything seems to be going quite smoothly. You avoid any contact whatsoever with Harry, and try to be as invested in Benjamin as you can.

After the main course, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, and sneak away from the watchful eyes of the others. Instead of going to the bathroom, you go outside and light up a cigarette. It is an unfortunate habit you have began succumbing to since everything that happened. The smoking takes your mind off the stress for a couple of minutes, and it is the only thing that has kept you from going insane.

"Are you smoking?" A voice filled with disbelief asks from behind you. You freeze when you recognize the depth of it, along with the unmistakable accent. Well, there goes the cathartic part of smoking that cigarette.

You don't turn around, and so Harry walks up to you in order to check whether it is really you. He frowns at the sight of you with cigarette.

"Thought you hated smoking." He throws in the comment like it's nothing. But it isn't. You hear the resentment hidden in every word that comes out of his mouth. The grudge that he has held against you from the moment you two met is something you think needs to be studied. To this day, you have no idea what you did to make him so mad at you. But instead of worrying about it like you used to do, you are getting annoyed by it.

"Shitty times call for shitty measures." You take another drag from the cigarette before putting out the bud and throwing it in the bin. You are about to go back inside when a collection of bravely morbid words leave Harry's mouth.

"You don't have to act like I murdered your entire family." Harry growls, clenching his jaw as he reaches for his own cigarettes in his pocket. You turn around to him, thunder written all over your face.

"What did you say to me?" You ask slowly, taking a few steps towards him. Harry doesn't see it, as he is also searching for his lighter.

"Look, I know I did a shitty thing but..." His words come to a halt when he sees how much closer you are to him than before, and you don't miss the hint of shock in his eyes.

"But what, hmm? But it's not that bad? But I don't have to be such a bitch about it? But I shouldn't let it influence my behavior towards you? Is that what you were gonna say?" You ask him as you push against his chest a bit, urging him to answer you.

"I was gonna say—"

"I don't give a shit about what you think about my behavior. You didn't give a shit your behavior when you went behind my back and fucked my boyfriend, now did you?" You pose the question, rhetorically. Harry just sighs. "Yeah, I thought so... I can't believe you have the nerve to try and tell me how I should handle you and your new boyfriend fucking me over. Don't do shitty things if you're gonna cry about the consequences. And especially don't go crying to me about."

Harry doesn't look at you, but the tension in his jaw makes you brace yourself for an outburst of some kind. You did pretty much still him to the ground just now. But nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Harry says something unexpected.

"He's not my boyfriend."

You physically take a step back, genuine confusion on your face. What? You were certain that Dylan and Harry were together. It had been all over campus after you first broke up.

"He— he cheated on me. Broke up with me a couple days ago." Harry confessed, still not meeting your eyes. A whole lot of nothingness fills your organs as you stare at him. You have no idea what you are supposed to feel right now. The overwhelming amount of emotions has turned into one empty space that leaves room for nothing but a blank stare.

You feel like you're supposed to laugh at him—in your head at least—and tell him that he had it coming. He did, of course, but you just didn't expect it to happen so soon. You had no idea that Dylan was such a loose canon. At least you are rid of him, that is one positive thing about this whole messed up situation.

Nevertheless, anything that you think you are supposed to feel, is not there. There is no relief, or joy, or lightness that brings a cocky smile to your face as you soak in the karma that was clearly on your side here. No, you are filled with a dull ache that you recognize to be faint sadness. It's too distant to drown in but the familiarity of it still manages to make it sting a little bit.

Harry takes a deep breath, waiting for whatever you are going to say. You can tell that he mentally preparing himself for the humiliation to come, and as much as you'd like to give it to him, you can't find it in yourself to do so.

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Th— thanks..." Harry responds slowly, not sure how serious to take your words. You know he was expecting an entirely different reaction.

"I know I had it coming." He adds with a a hint of frustration that makes it seem like you already told him that. Of course, you had the comment in your back pocket already.

"I mean... I wasn't gonna say it so soon, but—"

"Yeah, I thought we would get it out of the way." Harry interrupts you with an annoyed smile. Your previously sad face had turned into more of a smug one and it was more than he could bear, so he just had to say it before you did. He didn't want you to rub it in his face.

Silence creeps upon the two of you. Awkwardly, you stare into the distance as you ponder the new information. It made Dylan even more of a dick than you already thought him to be.

At first, you had thought that Dylan cheated on you because he was in love with someone else— Harry. And while it is still unacceptable, it seems less heartless than cheating with no other intention but sexual pleasure. You could see in Harry's eyes that he didn't expect Dylan to cheat on him, so he must've thought it was love. But it wasn't. That just makes it more shitty than it already was. You find the stinging feeling of sympathy entering your chest when you think of Harry, but you don't want to feel that about him, so you squint at him.

"I still hate you, you know." You say to him.

"Right back at ya, sweetheart."

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 6 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: sorry for the late update! enjoy reading. Next update will be around April 12, due to my exams 🫶🫶

W/C: 3.814

part five

Liked by linacarolina and others

ynln03 Last grind before vacay!

Itsmeluis call me next time 🤙🏽

  ynln03 you would order the entire menu    instead of working 🤔

camavinga my future lawyer 💼

       ynln03 only if you stay in Madrid 😎

linacarolina born to relax, forced to study

           ynln03 come and save me please

yourdollamira can't wait to see you babes!

                ynln03 one more night!

judebellingham did you spill your coffee?             ynln03 reported. go train or something 🤢

I smile to myself as I read the comments on my Instagram post, taking a sip of my cappuccino. The weather was perfect to get some last-minute work done, so my dad dragged me outside with him earlier this afternoon.

International break had begun again, which meant that we had a little more than a week off. It was last-minute, but I had decided to go on a short trip back to London. I had missed everyone there and needed a small break from everything.

"How is studying going?" I hear, looking up and making eye contact with my dad as he sits back in his chair.

I give him a guilty grin and turn my phone off, shoving it away from myself as I pretend to focus.

"Very good. I understand everything so far.." I mumble, skipping to the next slide of the presentation.

I my eyes dart back to him, he gives me a knowing look, then goes to take a sip of his latte.

"Any questions?"

I hesitate for a moment, questioning what I know and don't know.

"Uh- could you put this situation into a different perspective or give me a different example?" I ask, pointing at the sentence on my screen.

"Alright, let me..."

He pulls the laptop closer to himself, reading the slide before he starts answering my question. I keep nodding absentmindedly, looking at my laptop screen while my thoughts wander. Focus and concentration lessening by the minute.

"Are you even paying attention?" My dad suddenly asks, his hand reaching over to shut the laptop.

I snap out of my daydream to look at him, leaning back in my chair.

"Of course, I'm listening.."

"Doesn't look like that to me. What is it? You look distracted."

I sigh, sitting up straight and finally giving in.

I knew he'd be disappointed by my low efforts, but I genuinely needed a little break.

"I'm just so ready to leave for London. I just need a break from work and this..." I confess, pointing to my screen. He responds with a sigh. It feels like he is going to scold me and give me one of his life lectures, but it never comes. 

Instead, he stands up from his seat, shutting his own laptop.

"Let's go home then. You should finish packing for your trip, and we'll make dinner together. Will you call Carmen for the recipe of what you want to make?"

I fix my sweatsuit again, knowing it will keep me warm and cozy when I arrive in London in a few hours.

I had checked the weather, and it was expectedly way colder out there than Madrid. To combat the cold, I had pulled out the most comfortable set of clothes from my closet.

"Hurry up!" I hear my dad shout from downstairs, making me jump at the noise, it distracting me from the mirror. I quickly grab onto my suitcase, beginning to roll it out of my room.

"I'm coming, don't rush me, dad! It stresses me out!" I exclaim, standing still for a moment when I reach the stairs. Starting to pull the suitcase down the staircase with some difficulty. I especially pretend to not notice as the suitcase falls a couple steps ahead of me when I lose my grip on the handles.

I hear him fuss again. I finally arrive in front of him, panting in exhaustion. I watch him as he grabs my suitcase from me.

"Come on.." He urges, already walking out of the house, presumably to put my suitcase in his trunk.

I quickly run back up the staircase, grabbing my last essentials before I pull my shoes on. Not forgetting to shut and lock the front door before I run up to the car.

"Can't believe you're taking the whole house with you, kiddo." He mutters, but I laugh in return. Maybe, just perhaps, I had a packing problem..

I look at him for a moment, realizing he looked a little sad. I knew his mood was down since I was leaving for a couple days. I lean forward, clicking some buttons on the screen.

"Come on, dad, cheer up! I know this is your favorite song." I say, smiling and swaying to the melody.

I notice a small smile growing on his face. I begin to laugh when he starts singing.

Of course, I don't hesitate to sing along..

"Yes, dad. I've arrived safely. I'm just looking for auntie right now."

I strain my neck, trying to hold my phone in between my ear and shoulder. Combining that task with dragging my suitcase and holding onto my carry-on was a challenge.

The London cold hits me almost instantly. It makes me shiver for a moment, my eyes roaming around my proximity to look for anyone I recognize.

"Good, your aunt said she's waiting outside, further on your left."

My dad replies, prompting me to look to my left. Knowing extra details gives me immediate relief. I continue walking in that direction until I finally witness my aunt stepping out of a black Mercedes SUV.

I grin to myself, smiling the moment I spot my auntie. I watch her jog up to me, the sound of her heels clicking against the ground making her presence known.

"Dad, I spotted them. I'll call when we get home. Love you." I speak into the phone, hearing a short 'goodbye' and 'stay safe' from my dad before he hangs up. I rush to put my phone in my pocket, raising my head to look up again.

I'm pulled into the biggest and warmest hug within seconds. My aunt's signature perfume gives me a sense of nostalgia when I breathe in her scent.

I would be lying if I said that I didn't have a bottle of J'Adore by Dior back home. Just to feel like she was in my presence. My aunt was one of the few women in my life who provided the feminine energy I needed growing up. Especially when I moved here for high school all those years ago.

"My sweet girl." She exclaims, pulling back, her eyes roaming around my face as she squeezes me tightly. "You've grown up so much!" She adds, kissing my cheek.

"You look amazing, auntie! Looking younger than before." I reply, my eyes caught up in her sparkly eyeshadow and lash extensions.

"That's the botox, silly." She says, making me chuckle. She'd always been super honest about everything. Not a single lie would leave her lips.

"So, the sassy princess has returned?" I hear, moving my head to look behind my aunt. I immediately recognize her husband walking up to us. His face is kind as ever.

My aunt lets go of me, and I go up to hug my uncle. He was a man I would definitely call my second father.

He'd raised me along with my auntie. Tolerated my attitude through my teenage years, and insecure times in high school. He taught me so many things, from boring politics to how to get over a breakup. My most precious memories being him teaching me about small but important matters.

"Woah! Are you balding?" I tease, saying the exact opposite of what I had told my aunt. I hear her laugh behind me, the expression on my uncle's face turning serious, but I notice the small grin on his face.

"You'll make me catch a flight to Turkey if you don't stop." He replies, touching his still-there hair.

"Come on, let's go home. Your cousins have been asking for you this entire week."

"y/n! You're finally here!" I hear my cousin shout. Small footsteps heard throughout the house as I stand at the bottom of the stairs.

"Luca!" I exclaim, opening my arms to greet him with a tight hug, swaying our bodies when I hold him.

"How have you gotten this tall already? You're only ten, what's your mom and dad feeding you?" I tease, tickling his stomach. Cute giggles leaving him as he continues laughing.

"Where are your sisters?" I ask, looking around for his twin and baby sister.

"They played so hard with Millie. They fell asleep, but I wanted to wait for you."

I nod at his explanation, making the connection that 'Millie', was the nanny who just left.

"How sweet of you. Let me freshen up, and then we'll play together. You alright with that?" I ask, fixing his brown hair while watching him nod eagerly.

I thank my uncle as he moves my suitcase up the stairs. He pats my back before telling me to get settled in. I nod, closing the door, and walk away to sit down on the pink vanity chair. All types of nostalgia flooding my senses. Nothing in the room had changed, not even the multiple Zayn Malik posters on the wall.

I go to collect my toiletries and change of clothes from my suitcase, immediately walking into the bathroom to take a quick refreshing shower.

I walk out fifteen minutes later and hurry down the stairs. I notice Luca had started on a puzzle. A generation Alpha kid who's not obsessed with technology, that was refreshing.

"Want some help?" I ask, seeing him struggle with a part of the puzzle.

"Yes, I can't find this piece." He confesses, making me chuckle.

"Hm, okay, so let's see. We need to find a piece with two edges. Can you see some?"

I watch him ponder for a second, his tongue peeking out in concentration as he separates a handful of pieces.

"These?" He asks for confirmation, looking up with a questioning expression.

"You're right! Let's look back at our pattern. Do you think this one will fit?" I ask, pointing at a piece and seeing him shake his head.

"What about this one?" I ask, watching him think for a moment before nodding.

"Try it." I encourage, observing him trying to complete the corners.

"I did it!" He exclaims a while later, joy emitting from his face as his nose scrunches cutely.

"Good job! Now let's try the other ones, hm?"

Why keep ourselves busy with the puzzle until we hear someone walk down the stairs.

"Layla is awake!" Luca yells, announcing the arrival of his twin sister.

She looks confused, freshly woken up. Her hair looking crazy as she stands there at the bottom of the stairs.

"Come here, Layla!" I urge, smiling as she walks up to me, hugging her closely.

I fix her hair as she sits in front of me, pulling her curls back into a ponytail.

"Here I fixed your beautiful hair. Why don't you join your brother in playing puzzles?" I ask and she nods, helping her brother.

I get up after a bit, walking into the kitchen. Seeing my uncle and aunt cook- what I'm assuming, lunch.

"What would our guest like to eat?" My uncle says, putting his apron on. He makes overly large and dramatic gestures, messing around with me.

"Oh- the sandwich you always made me after school! Doesn't taste the same when I make it." I request, sitting on a chair.

"Coming right up!"

"She's so cute! Don't think she remembers me at all. Look at her face." I laugh, holding the three year old as I sit on the sofa. Our bellies full with delicious dinner.

"Of course she does. You were one of the first to hold her." My aunt tries to convince me, nudging my arm.

"She looks disgusted."

"That's just her resting face. Runs in the family." She replies, making me laugh.

"Is this what I look like as well?"

"When you were sixteen, yes. Or when I used slang to communicate with you." My uncle replies, setting his cup of tea down.

"I remember that, it was traumatizing, to be honest."

"Can't wait to use it on Layla." He jokes again, laughing.

"If she's anything like me you'll be in trouble."

"That's the fun part about having girls.."

I shake my head in disbelief, returning my attention to Maya on my lap. Cooing at her chubby cheeks as she chews on a fruit snack.

"Have you made plans yet?" My aunt asks, making me turn my head to look at her.

"I'm hanging with Amira if you guys don't mind?"

"Of course! You're not a teenager anymore, you don't have to ask. We don't mind, but please, if you drink, drink moderately."

"Don't worry, that's something I can control." I smile cheekily, waving Maya's arms side to side. Hearing her cute giggles at the movement makes me smile harder.

"Amira, am I supposed to wear something in specific?" I ask through the phone, rummaging through my closet. Thankful I hung my clothes up in my closet last night.

"Nope, just getting our nails done. Oh, but if you're coming early, you have to wait a little longer since I have clients coming in." She replies.

Amira and I met in high school and still are the closest of friends nowadays. I had moved back to Spain while she stayed in the city she was born in, London. She had followed her dreams of becoming a full-time stylist, and her work was insane.

"Okay, I'll be there in like- an hour or so..." I mutter, distracted by my clothing options. Eventually, I grab some baggy jeans and a white top. Deciding to add the details in my jewelry and shoes. 

After getting dressed and finishing my makeup, I grab my handbag. Finally getting out of the house and starting to walk in the direction of Amira's office.

I eventually arrive about fifteen minutes later, standing in front of the office door, waiting for Amira to open it. I raise my eyebrows in surprise when she appears, beautiful as ever.

"Look at you! How pretty have you become in two years? Photos and FaceTime calls don't do this pretty face justice.." Amira exclaims, going in to hug me.

"Could say the same about you. New hairstyle? When did you get your braids done?" I ask, pulling away from her.

"Literally last night." She answers, running a hand down a few braids.

"Well, you look fucking amazing." I compliment, taking my jacket off and hanging it up on the coat hanger.

"When is your client coming in?" I ask, turning to her.

"In a few. Thought you'd like to play with some pieces until I'm finished." She says, grabbing my hand and dragging me into a different spot of the office. Racks, on top of racks of clothing, greeting me.

"This is your size, right? If I remember correctly."She asks, pointing to a label stuck on the front of a rack. Making me nod in confirmation, in awe at the amount of clothes.

I rummage through the racks of clothing as Amira becomes busy with her client. I was looking for a way to entertain myself. Without interrupting her and her client- or clients. It definitely sounded like two masculine voices, at least.

I hum to myself as I flip through the rack of dresses. Instantly, a beautiful black mini dress catches my attention. The deep neckline gives it a sexy and absolutely breathtaking touch.

I immediately walk into the minimally decorated changing room on the left, hanging up the dress on the hanger before locking the door behind me.

Putting the dress on is fairly easy. I struggle a bit with the zipper at the back of the dress, but eventually I manage to zip it up. Finally looking at myself in the mirror after a moment. Admiring the way it compliments my body type.

I need some heels to complete the look, black in color, preferably. I unlock the door, eyes scanning through the selection of heels, before I grab a pair of black buckled kitten heels. Then, I go and grab my phone from Amira's desk, walking back quickly. I have to take pictures, especially with how good the lighting is.

My phone is in my left hand as I try to bend down, trying to balance myself as I fidget to buckle my heels up. I hear some footsteps nearby, but decide to ignore them as I focus on the buckles. 

Though, my effort of balancing myself goes in vain as my foot slips unexpectedly, making me fall backwards, a small shout escapes my lips.

I close my eyes, waiting for my body to collide with the floor, but instead I feel arms wrap around my back. Holding me up from falling.

My eyes snap open, eyes wide, and in shock as my brain struggles to comprehend anything when I make eye contact with someone I thought I'd never see here in a million years.

Neither of us utters a word for the next few seconds, minutes maybe. I feel his grip get tighter as my heel slips again, making me yell.

I realize the position we're in, his face is close enough for me to smell his minty breath. A curse leaves my lips, and I try to detach his hands from my waist as I stand up straight.

"Let go."

"Are you stalking me?" The Brit accuses, letting go of me and stepping back.

"What the fuck? Why would I stalk you? You're stalking me." I retort, pointing at him. Immediately going to smooth out my dress, pulling it down as it had ridden up unbeknownst to me.

He doesn't respond, continuing to just look at me without any sort of emotion on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I add, pulling a face. I raise my hand, waving it in front of his face, before I hear an annoyed scoff.

"What do you think?" He asks, pointing at the floor covered in clothes, which I presume he'd dropped trying to 'help' me.

"Do I look like a mind reader?" I retort, looking up from the mess on the floor.

"Whatever." He mutters, picking up the clothes, walking into the empty changing room, and locking the door behind him.

I roll my eyes, pissed at the fact that even a thousand kilometers later, I still managed to run into him. I kick the heels off my feet, shoving them to the side neatly, and go sit down on the couch in front of the changing rooms.

I hesitantly sit down before I hear Amira shout my name. Her face appears in the corner of my eye as she walks up to me, a very recognizable person behind her. 

"Yeah?" I ask, fidgeting with the neckline of the dress.

"Woah, the dress looks so fucking good on you." She says, coming up to stand in front of me.

"Yeah, I know it's just- wait he's..?" I trail off, eyes flickering to the insanely familiar guy next to her.

"Oh, this is my client, Trent, y/n." She alternates between us, and I reach out to shake his hand.

Then it clicks.

Jude was here for his international break. Which meant he was probably hanging out with his England teammates.

Of course, he was.

"You play at- Liverpool, right?" I ask, looking into his big brown eyes. He nods, reintroducing himself again in his Liverpool- or Scouser accent.

Our attention is directed to the changing room as the door rattles. Jude appearing from the room wearing a black suit. I immediately avert my eyes in case he thinks I actually care.

"There he is, looking good man." I hear Trent say, his Liverpool accent prominent.

"It does look really nice." Amira says, walking over to fix parts of the material.

I hold back a scoff. If only she knew how much of an arse he was.

I roll my eyes as I hear him being complimented over and over again. I lean back again, trying to forget the embarrassing situation that had happened earlier. My peaceful meditation interrupted as I hear Amira gasp.

"You two know each other. Right?"

I open my eyes, seeing Trent and Amira both look back and forth in between us.

I hear an uninterested 'yeah' come from Jude as I follow up with a 'sadly'. Going back to close my eyes. Wanting to do anything but interact with him.

A couple minutes pass before I hear my name being shouted by Amira. Her voice coming from her own office. I stand up and walk inside, smiling at Amira as she waves for me to join them. Shoving a pink mug of something warm onto the table.

I don't even register the fact that I'm still dressed like I was going to hit the club in a few minutes.

"Thank you." I smile, sitting down next to her. I take a sip of the drink. Avoiding eye contact with Jude, who's sitting right across from me.

A very familiar sight.

Maybe, I should instigate a little.

"So, Trent what are you two doing here?" I ask, a very obvious question, but enough to pry.

"We have some important events coming up and wanted Amira to style us." He answers, his eyes flickering towards her.

Woah, that wasn't a normal, friendly look. What did these two have going on?

"That's nice, you'll look the best out of everyone there." I smile, throwing him a wink, my arm wrapping around Amira shoulder.

"Yeah, definitely. Though, how do you two know each other." Trent asks, throwing Jude and I a questioning look.

"We work together back in Madrid." I answer, watching Jude roll his eyes.

"For Real Madrid?"

"Yeah, I'm on the marketing and PR team."

"Oh! You're the-" He begins, placing a hand on his mate's shoulder as if to tease him. He's cut off as Jude throws him a 'don't say anything else look.'

It forces me to hold back a laugh as I watch his face turn sour.

So, he did talk about me to other people?

Our conversation is interrupted as Trent's phone starts ringing loudly. Their driver letting them know he had arrived. 

I watch Amira walk them out. My eyebrows raise when she returns with the biggest smile on her face.

"Something is up with you and that Liverpool boy." I whisper, squinting at her when she shakes her head in denial.

"Go get changed, our nail appointment is in an hour." She ushers, changing the topic.

"Well, I called it." I tease, chuckling at the flustered look on her face. Getting up to go change.

[adventuringblind]

Still Have You

Lando Norris x Reader X Oscar Piastri

Genre: Angst

Summary: and then there were two...

Warnings: crash, injury description, death

Notes: oops... I wrote another sad thing...

Masterlist

Racing is her life. It's all she knows. It was her entire life.

Until it wasn't.

She was a rookie. A female driver that Williams decided to take a chance on.

Oscar signed for McLaren the same year. She already knew he was going to get a seat because he's amazing. And getting to drive alongside Lando Norris was nothing to scoff about.

Oscar introduced his teammate to his best friend, and the three became attached to the hip. Inseparable. It definitely wasn't anything they were expecting. It just happened, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

So then it was them and racing. Like her life had somehow gained a new purpose.

~

The Dutch Grandprix. It's raining heavily, and she'd rather be curled up with her lovers, hot chocolate, and a good book.

"Are they really going to have the race?" She asks Alex who's standing next to her I the cover of their garage.

"Looks like it." He sighs. "Any word from your papaya clad lovers?"

Check jabs him in the side with an elbow. "Shup up! Someone could hear you!" She hisses at him.

"Not my fault Lando can't keep a secret." He throws his hands up in surrender.

They are then promptly told to get ready to head to the grip. She throws a final text to her boys before she has to leave her phone for the next couple of hours.

Alex is starting fourth. It's an amazing thing for him, and she can't help but feel a tinge of pride.

It feels like she's in the car for hours. Just waiting for them to say go or call off the race. She hopes it's the latter. She'd hate to see any of her of the grid get hurt because the FIA decided to put the show on regardless of their safety.

The rain slows, and it seems like it might actually clear up. So it would make sense that the FIA decided it's time to race.

Soon enough, they are racing off the line. Her start was better than she'd expected. Managing to hold her place as the down pour started again.

"We're expecting the rain to stay like this for the next ten minutes."

She mentally groans. Begs whoever controls the weather to let up. Prays that nobody gets hurt.

But fate it cruel.

It's only lap five, but the rain is making it difficult to see. She knows someone is close to her. No idea who, but he's there.

She definitely knows when they spin out. And she feels it when they tap her car as she's flying down the straight.

It's like the world moves in slow motion. One minute, she's driving. Then she's not even on the ground anymore.

Ground.

Sky.

Wet.

Dry.

Shooting pain.

Copper taste.

Radio static.

Cold.

Bright.

Nothing.

~

"Red flag Lando, red flag, come into the pits, please."

"Did someone crash? "

"One of the Williams."

Lando's heart drops. Every thought in his mind going to the worst. "Which Williams?"

"We believe it's y/n."

Suddenly, he can't hear anymore. He passes the crash sight, and he feels like the air is sucked out of his lungs.

He's not thinking. He just pulls the car over and gets out. Not caring at all who's watching.

The front of the car is bent upwards over the cockpit. The back is nowhere to he seen. There are pieces of fence and barrier stuck to the ring of the halo.

The Marshalls are barely getting started. They've started splitting the car into peices with saws.

Lando skids to a halt. His arms pull away the debris so he can at least see her.

They he sees just how bad it is.

There is a piece of metal piercing directly through her chest. Her legs are crushed at odd angles.

He helps the Marshalls pull her out. His stomach flips with every second she doesn't respond. He stays with her until they pull him away.

He fights them. Or - he tries to fight them. But the adrenaline isn't pumping as it was. It's just his anxiety now.

~

Oscar stares at the screen in front of him. He knows he doesn't look as calm as he's trying to seem.

Alex looks similar in a way. The tall Williams driver stands next to him in the blue garage. Waiting for any sign that the girl in the car is breathing.

He's choking on his tears. He's fighting the urge to run onto the track.

There are other drivers in front of the Williams garage. All of them are asking for updates. The one thing nobody has right now.

When they lift her body out of the car, he screams. It rips through his body and pieces everyone's ears.

He tries to bolt, but Alex holds him back. It's not long til he's sobbing into his arms.

He's been nothing but the Trios' biggest supporter since he found out. In this specific moment, Oscar has never felt more grateful for him.

He watches the screen closely. Lando is pressing on the females chest. His neon yellow gloves now staied red from the open wound.

He tries to bolt again. Flee to Lando so they don't have to be separated. He knows the Brits anxiety is probably skyrocketing.

If his is, then Lando's definitely is.

Alex wasn't prepared, and he managed to make it about ten steps before being stopped by Max. The Aussie runs straight into him and collapses once again.

This time, he fights. He flails his limbs and tries to shove his way past until his body gives out.

~

Lando feels a tap on his shoulder. He hadn't realized he'd just been standing where they'd left him until the new presence snapped him out of it.

"Lando, we should go back to the paddock." It's Charles speaking to him. He sounds so distant, like he's calling to him from a meter away.

He just let the Monegasque lead him back down the track. He stares at his glives as they walk. Coated in her blood.

This should've never happened. The race should have been called off. Every time the scene replays in his mind, it makes him angrier at them.

They find themselves at the Williams garage with the rest of the drivers. He takes note of the sobbing Austrian currently trying to break free of Max's grip. Oscar is usually the most collected out of the three. It breaks something in Lando, seeing him like this. Like Oscar crying just makes it more real.

Lando pulls off the blood-soaked gloves and sinks to where Oscar is. The Brit gets his focus and attempts to calm him down. Most likely, neither of them are going to be able to drive in such a state. Lando still has his car on track where he left it.

He really doesn't care who's watching in this moment. He prys Oscar away from Max and cradles him. The two falling into a puddle of tears on the ground.

~

Oscar lays with his head leaning against Lando. Their hands entertained like one would disappear if they let go.

It feels wrong without her.

Max and Alex had come to wait with them. Neither of them deemed it safe to leave the two alone.

"Miss l/n?" Says a doctor. He sounds as exhausted as they feel.

All four scramble up out of their seats. All hope seeming to float away as they see his expression.

"I'm so sorry to tell you that she didn't make it."

And then everything shattered. Their world fell apart. Everything tainted with the lack of her presence.

"She woke herself up right before she flat lined and asked to make sure someone heard it." The doctor inhales deeply. Like, somehow, this message was difficult for him. "She said: 'tell them to cling to each other. That she's not gone. You'll find her on the track."

~

A year later, at the same track, two boys visit a memorial. Flowers in hand as they kneel in the grass.

The sun is shining today. A stark contrast to the weather which had claimed her life.

They sit together, hands interlocked, and engagement rings fit snugly on their ring fingers.

"We miss you. Every day. We think about you all the time." Lando sniffles. The lump in his throat threatened to leave. "Alex makes sure we take care of ourselves, and Max let us stay with him. He won another title, by the way, and dedicated it to you."

"I got my first win. It was in Australia, just like how you predicted." Oscar's gaze is toward the sky. He knows she's up there somewhere smiling down upon them.

"I asked Oscar to marry me, and he said yes. We thought we might have the ceremony at that one park you love in the spring when the cherry blossoms are in season."

"Thought you also might want to know that we have an extra ring for you. We owe it to you for getting us together, after all."

Both of them are choking on their tears now. It's not the same without you.

"We'll always love you. Even if we're only two."

[maybankiara]

WHY'D YOU ONLY CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE HIGH

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Ex!Reader summary: Rafe keeps calling you even though you've broken up -- but he only calls you while high, yet you can't bring yourself to tell him no. word count: 3.3k additional: this deals heavily with rafe's addiction, so heavy mentions of that. angst with pining. naturally, title from the arctic monkeys song. masterlist 

The phone rings.

  Your hands scramble around the bed and the nightstand until they’re wrapped around the little brick and you answer, not looking at the caller ID beforehand.

  ‘Hello?’

  Your phone was on Do Not Disturb. Whoever’s calling, it’s important enough for you to pick up.

  There’s no answer, though. You repeat yourself because you can hear someone breathing on the other line, and that’s when you finally look at your screen – and your heart sinks to your stomach.

  ‘Rafe,’ you sigh. ‘What's going on?’

  ‘Hi,’ he says.

  ‘Are you high?’

  ‘That's not what I—I mean, yeah, maybe, but that’s not what I—Nevermind.’

  You sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. There’s no light and you debate turning on the one on your nightstand, but maybe this will be short, and you’ll go back to sleep soon.

  ‘You’re high,’ you say.

  ‘Yeah.’ He pauses and you hear him shuffling. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You know I don’t like it when you get like that.’

  He apologises again.

  You don’t know what to say. The clock says it’s nearly three in the morning on a Sunday, and you really ought to be sleeping. Hell, you haven’t even spoken to Rafe in weeks, if not a month – you know you shouldn’t be the one he’s on the phone to.

  But he is. And you haven’t hung up yet.

  You turn on your light, squinting in response. ‘Are you at a party?’

  ‘I left.’

  ‘Okay. Are you going home?’

  There’s hesitation before he says no, and another pause before he finally asks: ‘Can I stay over?’

  You sigh, again, and push the covers off of your bed. ‘No, Rafe. You’re not staying over. Especially not like this.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. I wanted to see you.’

  The slippers come on with ease. You think about putting on your dressing gown, but something clicks in your head. ‘You’re outside my house, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  You sigh for the third time and promise yourself to stop doing it, but it’s Rafe. He has a special effect on you, tiring most of all, nowadays.

  You tell him to wait a few minutes as you put the phone on your bed, but don’t hang up. He wouldn’t want you to. His breathing is still coming from the phone, but it seems calmer, and you wonder if he can hear you putting on a pair of joggers and a sweater that he left behind. It makes you wonder if the same memories are flashing through his mind, too.

  His car’s headlights are on and the engine is rumbling quietly. A dozen flashes of the times this happened before blend together – you blink them away.

  The passenger window is open, as it always is, and you lean through it. ‘Park up.’

  ‘I was thinking we could go for a drive.’

  ‘Nu-uh. Park up.’

  ‘At your parents’ house?’

  ‘I said what I said.’

  Rafe doesn’t say okay, but you see the resignation in his eyes. His hand moves the gearstick and you take a step back, watching as he rolls the car into the parking lot, next to your father’s car. He walks out and asks what’s happening with that, and you say you’ll deal with it in the morning.

  ‘What are we doing, then?’

  You turn in the spot, your feet taking to the journey as if you never stopped taking it. ‘I’m walking you home.’

  Rafe just gives a resigned, okay.

  For a while, you walk in silence. It’s a chilly night and you stuffed your hands in your pockets, twirling the keyring around your index finger. You only glance at Rafe, almost scared to look at him properly – who knows what you’ll see.

  You’ve seen him in enough states to make you apprehensive of it.

  It’s almost as if he feels it, because after five minutes of nothing, he says: ‘It’s not that bad, you know. It was an easy night.’

  ‘Taking it easy, huh. You do that now?’

  ‘I try.’

  This—right then—is when you really look at him for the first time. He walks under a streetlamp and it gives his skin a grey-ish, washed out appearance, and his hair lighter than you remember it. He’s slouching a little, instead of the prideful walk you’re used to, and his eyes are transfixed on you.

  ‘Shit, Rafe.’

  His head hangs low. ‘It’s been a – a rough time.’

  You know. Oh, you know.

  The urge to touch his arm is there, so you press the keys into your palm. You want to tell him to get out, for his own sake, but you just press the keys harder.

  He’s not your problem anymore. He never really was.

  ‘I miss you,’ he says.

  ‘Rafe—’

  ‘Just— Hear me out, okay?’

  ‘No,’ you say, continuing to walk even though he stopped. ‘I’m not doing this right now.’

  His arm catches yours and he spins you around, making you look at him face-on – and what you see is agony. ‘Please.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you came out,’ he says. ‘You’re walking me home. For sure that—’

  ‘That means I care, sure.’ You take your arm out of his grip. You keep your voice low, even though you can feel yourself seething. ‘But because I’m human and you were literally at my door. Don’t read into it.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I’m done with you, Rafe. I told you that.’

  You keep walking. Whether he follows, that’s his problem – even though you know he will. It’s not the first time this is happening, but you’d like it to be the last. You really would.

  (A part of you is convinced otherwise. You look at him and see pain on his face, the utter disdain you know is directed towards none but himself.

  He could’ve had you and he blew it, but you don’t want to think about it. About the sacrifices you made and the ones he couldn’t. About promises that were never kept.

  Rafe’s an addict. It hurts—you wish things were different—but the truth has red eyes and a red nose.

  It doesn’t mean you love him any less, and that’s the part that kills you.)

  You take him to his front door. He hasn’t said a word since, and every time you glanced over, his eyes were glued to his feet. You can feel the same reeking off of him and you replay your words, and maybe you’ve been a little bit harsh with him.

  ‘Rafe.’

  He looks at you and you see his face light up with hope, just enough to fool you—maybe things could be different—and you pull him into a hug.

  Rafe smells and feels the same as he always has, as you think of doing this with skin against skin, with his lips pressed to your neck, and it takes you a moment to remember that Rafe is gripping you because that’s never happening again.

  Because you ended it.

  ‘Y/N, just once—’

  ‘Rafe,’ you say, softly, and give his cheek a gentle kiss. ‘I’ve given you all the chances already.’

  You don’t say goodbye.

  You don’t wait to see him walking in.

  Because you know that until you’re out of sight, he’ll be looking at you.

—

For a month, nothing happens.

  Then it’s the middle of the day and you’re at brunch with your parents when your phone rings with his ID. You debate not answering—you wish it wasn’t something you’d even think about—but the guilt from the way you acted last time is what makes you pick up.

  ‘I need you.’

  ‘Rafe, what’s—’

  ‘I need you to pick me up,’ he says, sounding exasperated. ‘Y/N, please.’

  You look over at your parents and mouth that it’s an emergency, and they don’t question it.

  The address you’re given is about a ten minute drive. It’s near enough to not give you enough time to start to really panic, but not far enough for you to not hear what’s going on on the other end – Rafe throwing up.

  He asked to hang up. You said absolutely not.

  You pull up at a house in the Cut, a bit larger than you’d expected. You know what that means – a dealer’s house. Music is loud enough that you can hear it inside the car and it makes you wonder what’s happening. Rafe wasn’t much of a help in answering that question.

  He walks out in just a wifebeater and shorts. He’s stumbling, but he’s close enough to the car that you just lean over and push the passenger door open for him.

  ‘You look like shit,’ you say.

  Rafe holds a tissue to his nose—red one, at that—and gives you a look that tells you he knows. ‘Please take me home.’

  You don’t need to be told twice.

  His family is out of town and you know this because it’s the talk of the town, the Camerons away for the summer. All apart from Rafe. The house is quiet, because of it, and it feels odd that you don’t need to tiptoe your way around.

  There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom and you apply some cream to Rafe’s cuts and bruises, bandaging the knuckles. The vomiting has stopped and he’s had enough water to drench a desert, so now you’re just playing nurse.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Barry showed up.’

  ‘Right.’

  Nothing more needs to be said. You can already see it. Drugs, Barry, probably staying up the whole night – it’s never a recipe for anything good.

  All patched up, Rafe thanks you. ‘For everything, you know.’

  You stand up and wipe your hands on your trousers. The mess has been cleaned and he’s looking good, and it’s time for you to go – which is what you say.

  Rafe takes hold of your hand. ‘Stay. Please.’

  ‘My family’s waiting for me.’

  ‘I know, I just– I don’t want to be alone.’

  ‘Call Topper. Or Kelce.’

  ‘Just stay for a little while,’ he pleads. ‘Just for a bit.’

  The despair in his voice makes you consider it. By now, your family would’ve left the restaurant and gone back home to relax. Nobody really needs you around – not as much as Rafe.

  You help him get into bed, turning your back to him as he strips to his underwear. You never venture underneath the covers, even though he offers.

  He apologises again. Your mind takes you to the cocky guy you met all those years ago, the guy who had you wrapped around his finger. The guy who ruled the world, if somebody asked you. The guy you fell in love with after years of friendship, the guy who became more than that.

  This is not him.

  ‘Why did you call me, Rafe?’

  ‘Because it’s you,’ he mutters, half-asleep, into the pillow.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He mumbles, again, sleep catching him fast, but you still understand it: ‘Because you’re the only one who makes me feel safe.’

  You end up staying for another hour or so. Rafe looks peaceful—his nose is scratched and there’s some dried blood right underneath it, with a tiny cut on the bridge of it and a black eye starting to form—but he doesn’t look stressed, or upset, or high.

  He just looks like Rafe.

  And that is precisely why you grab your phone and leave, before your past feelings come flooding back.

—

You think it’s done. You don’t see him, you don’t talk to him, you barely even hear about him. What you know is that the partying continues and the reputation worsens, but you tell yourself: he’s not my problem anymore.

  And then you remind yourself that he never really was – your problem or yours, in general.

  Which is precisely why you’re not expecting to be greeted with his face when you open your front door. His face—recently battered and bruised, but healed—stretched into a smile.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

  ‘Please,’ he says. ‘I just want to talk.’

  You look at his eyes and sure enough, they’re red, and sure enough, so is his nose.

  ‘You’re high.’

  He doesn’t deny it. He knows his apology wouldn’t mean anything, either.

  ‘I just want to talk.’

  Your family is away for the time being and you’ve got nothing better to do—or that’s what you tell yourself—so you step aside, let him in, and lock the door behind him.

  Rafe takes a seat in your living room while you get both of you a glass of water. He’s looking around as if he hasn’t seen the place before, and even comments on the interier change – your dad insisted on adding a fireplace. Yet as you sit down on the armchair next to him, you think about all the times you’ve fooled around in this very room, and remember that none of the furniture is sacred anymore.

  ‘Are you hungry?’

  He shakes his head. It’s probably a lie—you know his munchies—but you won’t push further.

  ‘I fucked up,’ he says. ‘With you. Everything I did – I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve done it the right way, you know. I just didn’t…’

  ‘Didn’t know.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  You watch him for a moment. He’s squirming in his seat and despite the state he’s in, he’s handsome as ever. Chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, buzzed hair starting to grow out again. But his lip is trembling and you see him shaking, and you wonder how lon git is until the comedown hits.

  ‘You know that wouldn’t have changed anything,’ you tell him. ‘Chocolate?’

  ‘I—Yeah, sure.’

  You hand him some Ferrero Rocher your mother left behind. He devours it, and the second one as well, while you take your time with yours.

  ‘I don’t really want to talk about it, Rafe.’

  ‘About us.’

  ‘Call it whatever you like. It’s in the past. We’re not digging there.’

  The glass thuds as you put it down. You pat down your thighs and shift on the couch, growing antsier by the minute. Rafe doesn’t seem to be that bad today and it’s almost pissing you off – he’s sitting there all calm and collected while you’re scrambling whatever sense of self you’ve got left.

  ‘Is it because you’re scared?’

  Your head snaps to him. Your mouth hangs open—the audacity—but nothing comes out of it.

  Rafe’s lips are pressed into a tight line and his eyes bore into yours. ‘You’re scared to talk about it. To admit what happened. To admit what it meant.’

  ‘It meant nothing,’ you say. Cold shivers run down your body. ‘We were hooking up for a few months. Don’t read into it.’

  He looks like somebody slapped him. ‘Right. So it meant nothing.’

  ‘It didn’t.’

  ‘And that’s why you always answer when I call.’

  ‘Are you here to be a piece of shit, Rafe? Is that it?’

  You push yourself off the armchair and walk all the way to the other end of the room. The window against your back cools you down, and you get to look at Rafe.

  To look down on him.

  You’re expecting him to fire up, like you’re used to, but his face softens, instead. There’s sweat starting to form beads on his forehead and you know he must be going through a comedown, but he doesn’t show it.

  ‘I loved you, you know,’ he says. ‘Still do.’

  You press the back of your hand to your forehead, closing your eyes. The memories flood – from the first kiss to the last, from finding out he does light drugs in his spare time to rubbing his back as he pours his stomach out, from asking him to decide what they are to him saying you weren’t anything.

  Just a hookup.

  For nearly a year.

  ‘Don’t say that.’ You wrap your arms around your chest. ‘Don’t fucking say that. You got no right.’

  Rafe stands up, too, and he looks taller than you remember—or you’ve shrunk into yourself—and approaches, but stays within an arm’s length. ‘I made a mistake when I let you go. I can’t make it right, I know, but I want you to.’

  ‘Rafe, you don’t—I need some air.’

  He follows you to the balcony, overlooking your parents’ garden. You don’t bother turning on the light – you don’t really want him to see you.

  ‘I wanted to be with you,’ he says, ‘so fucking much. I was just a fool.’

  You leave it for a moment—see if there’s anything else to come out—then say: ‘I didn’t end it because you didn’t want to make it official.’

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘I thought you knew.’

  ‘I thought…’ Rafe sits on the chair that’s always there, the one your dad sits in every Sunday morning, and slumps down. ‘I was convinced.’

  You lean over the fence, pretending you’re not holding onto it because otherwise you’d crumble. ‘Do you remember what I said when I ended things?’

  He thinks about it. ‘That you can’t do this anymore.’

  ‘I meant drugs, Rafe.’ You look at him and for once, you let him see the vulnerability. ‘The hobbies. That’s what I couldn’t do anymore. Because I knew when it came down to that, you’d never choose me over it. I couldn’t watch you fuck up your life time and time again.’

  ‘Then why do you—’

  ‘Answer?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  You laugh. ‘Because I’m terrified, Rafe! I’m terrified that you’ll be dying somewhere, alone, because everyone’s left. Because that’s where you’re headed. And I want no part in it.’

  In the end, nothing is resolved. Rafe leaves with slumbed shoulder and shivers, and you close the door with shaky hands and tears pooling in your eyes. You watch him walk back to his car, knowing you should tell him not to drive—to stay—but knowing it’s about time you puts yourself first.

  You loved him, too. But there’s a line between loving someone and sacrificing yourself for them.

  Rafe drives away, and you let yourself become a sobbing mess on the floor.

—

He doesn’t call.

  Over the next year or so, you see him only in passing. There’s an odd mention here and there, from friends of friends, but Rafe is no longer a part of your life. There’s been times when people have brought up that part of your past, but you’ve shut it down quick enough that they’ve learned to stop.

  You did your best to erase Rafe from your story.

  Yet there he is – his sweatshirt still hangs in your closet, though you don’t wear it. The couch in your living room has a scratch from your nail when you were having sex on it. When someone knocks, the tiniest part of you rises up to hope it’s him, needing you again.

  When your friends ask, you tell them that it’s over. You made it clear.

  So when your phone rings and it’s his name on the screen, he tells you he’s sober. He’s been sober for a while. And all he wants to know is if there’s still a part of you that would like to meet the new him.

  To let him start over.

  And this time, you don’t say no.

[multifanhoe99]

Kinktober Day 3- Lingerie

This is gonna be self-indulgent as hell and I am not sorry but also I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: non-idol!JB x afab!Reader

Warnings: Pet names (Daddy, Princess, Baby), mentions of panty stealing, mentions of masturbation, oral (fem. receiving), PIV intercourse, creampie (fem. receiving), no condom (be safe out there y'all), spanking, hair pulling

=Please let me know if I missed any.=

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

~18+ MDNI ~

It was not often that you wanted to buy fancy things. Even less often the fancy stuff you happen to buy turns out to be something sexy to wear for your husband. This time you couldn't help it. One day in your boredom you decided to do some online shopping and found a gorgeous lacey emerald green set that you knew would look amazing against your skin tone. Even better it was on sale! One night's bored purchase is another night's fun. Honestly, you had almost completely forgotten you bought it until it came in the mail today. It was a pleasant surprise, a gift from your past self and you couldn't help but be thrilled. Just then you got another idea. You were going to make an event of it. You had the day off to relax anyway why not make it worthwhile. With that determination in mind, you went to take a shower to get ready for what you had planned. After your shower, you applied some light makeup and fixed your hair into neat french braids that finished off as low pigtails. He liked your hair like that for very obvious reasons. Then you put on the new lingerie set you bought. On top of it, you put on the dress you know he loves seeing you in the most. It's a long red sundress with flowers on it and a slit that goes up the middle rather than down the side. Once you were all dolled up and ready you decided to head to the kitchen to fix up his favorite meal and to set the table like they would in a restaurant.

When you were finally done you sent a quick text to your husband, -I have a surprise for you when you get home! I hope you like it I love you. See you soon!- You knew he should be on his way home by now and the notification would come up on the dash screen of his car. A few minutes later you get his reply, - I can't wait! I am almost home. I love you too!- It was exciting waiting in anticipation for him to come home. Not even five minutes later while you were putting the finishing touches on the meal you heard the front door open and close. You went out to greet him, "Hello my love how was work?"

"Ah, you know same old-," he pauses when he finally looks up from taking off his shoes to switch to his house slippers, "Wow, what's the special occasion that my beautiful wife feels the need to make my knees weak."

"There is no special occasion I just felt like pampering my handsome husband because he's been working extra hard lately," you replied moving closer to give him a kiss. He instantly returned the kiss and placed his hands on your hips. Before the kiss could get any more heated you pulled away, "Dinner is ready in the kitchen. I made your favorite."

"Have I ever told you that I love you," he asks following you into the kitchen/dining room.

"Only every single day Jae," you respond with a giggle at his affection. No matter how long you two have been together Im Jaebum gives you butterflies like it's still the very first date. Upon seeing the spread you had laid out on the table he came up to hug you from behind and whispered in your ear, "So you did all of this just because I have been working extra hard? I feel like you are planning something, Princess."

"What I can't just want to do something nice for you," you ask trying not to give your true intentions away.

"Okay, I will believe you for now. Let's eat then," he says giving you one more kiss on the head before going to sit down. You both enjoy your meal together and he helps you clean up. When everything was cleaned and put away you went up to JB and wrapped your arms around his neck. He placed his hands back on your hips. You lean closer to whisper in his ear again, "There is more to your surprise. Join me in the bedroom will you?"

"See I knew you were up to something," he says with a smile but follows you to the bedroom anyway. You sit him down on the edge of the bed and tell him to close his eyes. Once you are sure he isn't peeking you remove the dress you were wearing and throw it into the hamper in the corner of the room. You let him know that he can open his eyes and when he does you don't fail to notice the way his eyes darken when they look at you. His expression shifts from one of pure admiration to something darker and full of lust. You can hear it in the timber of his voice when he says, "Come here princess let daddy get a closer look at you."

You can't help but do what he asks this was your plan after all and you couldn't be more glad that it worked. As you step closer he places his hands on your thighs. It is gentle at first and then he moves up higher. Wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so he can see as he moves his hands up to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. Then he lands a sharp spank on your left cheek and soothes it by rubbing his hand softly over the spot. "Look at you, baby. You look so good for me all wrapped in lace like this. I will try not to ruin it while I am busy fucking you into oblivion," he growls from his position below you. From that same position, he lifts you up with no issues and tosses you gently onto the bed so that you're lying on your back.

He takes his sweet time kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. He makes his way so slowly to the place you need him most. You can feel how wet you are just from this and he hasn't even properly started yet. You know that he is doing this on purpose and are sure this was his own plan ever since he became suspicious of you planning something. He was moving so slowly and so gently and you knew that he could see how much it affected you from the ever-growing wet patch on your new panties. "Da-daddy please don't tease me anymore I c-can't take it. I need you please," you beg gasping when he nips just a little bit harder at your most sensitive parts.

"That's it, baby beg for me. Beg for me to use this pretty little pussy however I want," he replies finally giving you some type of relief by rubbing a thumb up and down your covered folds. He continued that for a little while longer and then gave in at the sound of your desperate moans. He pulled the panties down your legs and once they were fully off he shoved them into the pocket of his slacks. You already struggled to think and he was only getting started. It only got worse when he finally gave your pussy the attention you wanted him to. He licked a long stripe up your glistening folds humming in satisfaction at your taste.

"What do you think princess should I take my time eating you out until you cum again and again on my face or would you just like me to get you ready enough to take my cock," he asks. It was getting hard to form words. The combination of his tongue and his two fingers that joined shortly after his question was blurring your mind with pleasure. He stops all movement to say, "Come on baby use your words. Already so fucked dumb and I have barely even done anything yet. What do you want you can say it."

"I w- I want to-to-to- wanna get ready for daddy's cock," you say barely able to string the sentence together. Jaebum had a way of doing that to you and you loved it. You loved being able to give yourself over to the pleasure he brought you and he loved it too. Hearing your answer JB dove in like a man starved. After so many years he knew your body like nobody else and he knew exactly what to do to bring you over the edge. His mouth licking your sensitive clit and his middle and ring fingers plunging deep into you. Every time you'd touch yourself when he wasn't around you could never get your fingers to go as deep as his. He brought you ecstasy like nothing else. You could feel yourself getting closer.

"Daddy I am so close please can I cum I really wanna cum on your face please please, please," you begged almost crying.

"Cum baby cum all over my face and then again one more time on my cock after," he said temporarily removing his mouth from your clit and then going right back. When he replaces his mouth you feel yourself let go coming all over his face and fingers. It feels so good but you know you aren't done yet. He wastes no time moving away to remove his own clothes and then flipping you over. He pulls your hips up and once he has the right position he slides right in. He gives you enough time to adjust to him and as soon as he's sure you're okay he sets a fast pace. At first, his hands are on your hips giving your ass harsh slaps every so often that make you yelp and moan at the painful pleasure. Then his hands move to your hair each hand taking one of the pigtails and then pulling back making your back arch and he is able to hit a new deeper angle. He can feel you tightening around him and he knows you're close again which is good because so is he. He leans down into your ear, "That's it, baby just a little more, and then let's cum together yeah?"

He keeps up this pace and it is only a matter of time before you're falling off the edge cumming all over his cock and he follows seconds after. Cum spurting out in thick ropes into you. It takes a moment for you both to calm down but when you finally do he goes to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean you up. "That was amazing and you should online shop more often if this is what it leads to," he jokes.

"Yeah I will get right on that," you respond with a laugh. He helps you clean up, take your make-up off, and let your hair down. You both fall asleep in each other's arms after exchanging a sincere 'I love you' and you couldn't be happier to end your day with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: HOLY COW!!! I am so sorry for being so late on this one but like I said it was really self-indulgent and I definitely got super carried away. Luckily day 3 is done and day 4 will be out later today so as a bonus for this one being late you technically get two in one day! HOORAY!

[kolyubov]

MR KRAAAAAABS I HAVE AN IDEAAA 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️😇😇😇 plspls may i request a part 2 of reader faking her emotions, that reader x nikolai one shot yk 🦍🦍 bit unfortunately we get the bad ending ☹️☹️ she just snaps one day, grabs a rope and 😭 (i have a cinematic trauma since most of my favorite characters hanged themselves) (ily sayori<3)

Feel completely free to ignore this 🙏 and if ur accepting it take your time 😇🙏

tw suicide attempt. please, do not keep reading if this kind of content triggers you.

Nikolai with a reader who archives his goals. (p2? bad ending lmao)

✧ pairing: Nikolai Gogol x Fem!Reader

✧ word count: 1.3k

✧ contents: sfw, angst?, obsessive and controlling Nikolai, slight manipulation, reader is referred to as "princess" once. (if I missed anything, please tell me)

✧ author's note: idk if this is as good as the first one :(( spoiler: I didn't write the reader dying, close, but no,,, hope u still enjoy it either way<3 btw, you mean sayori from dokidoki, right? I never played dokidoki, but I like Monika…….🧎‍♀️ sayori seems nice though! she's cute 🫶

Nikolai has been very clingy after what happened— He was always near you, touching you; holding your hand, having an arm around your waist, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and rubbing circles on your skin, or hugging you from behind.

His hands needed to be on you, afraid that the second he's not watching, you'll disappear from his life.

When he's not physically there, your phone vibrates almost every five minutes with a message from him asking how are you doing, what class are in you right now, if you have eaten— Stuff like that.

There wasn't any second you could be alone, and it was becoming more and more overwhelming.

Of course, you understand that he's worried and that he doesn't want to lose you; but this is borderline obsessive, and as much as a part of you likes being taken care of, another part of you is afraid that this might get even worse.

He was trying to tie you with him; sinking you deeper into the darkness of the cage that was holding you back. The cage of your emotions.

You didn't know it, but he even has a location tracker that shows him on his phone exactly where you are— It eases his mind because what if, after knowing that there wasn’t a way out, you try to be free by other methods?

Nikolai knows you won't dare to kill him like he is was planning to do with Fyodor; There was no possible scenario in which you would stab him to death or poison his food. Plus, he could easily see through your intentions and it won't be easy to kill someone like him.

But you could hurt yourself.

If it wasn't him, then the only way to be free was by shutting down your whole system. By ending your life.

Of course, he was not going to let it happen. He's going to be watching your every move until he's sure you won't do something risky like that.

For now, he is taking good care of you.

“Whatcha doing? I'm about to go home. I want to make a quick stop to buy you snacks.”

You giggle on the other side of the phone and that's enough to make Nikolai excited. He wanted to be in your arms, smooching your face, feeling your warmth, hearing you laugh. God, his heart is beating too fast right now.

“I'm just… doing nothing.” You walk around the apartment as you speak with him, trying to sound excited.

“I miss you, baby. Can't wait to cuddle with you today…”

Ah, you hated how inevitably you felt warm and fuzzy inside.

“You love me, right, dove?”

Yes, you do. You love him so much that it's suffocating you. Nikolai is suffocating you. But you can't help but need more of him, his attention, his love, his touch. All of that awakens a bunch of emotions that you wish to get rid of so badly.

“Mhm… I do.” You whisper, and you can hear him giggle through the speaker.

“Wait for me, love.” He smooches the screen of his phone before ending the call, then, you throw your phone to the couch.

It seems like Nikolai didn't notice.

Suddenly, Tears rolled down your cheeks. You place your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs as the crying intensifies to the point where your chest hurts and your knees buckle, making you fall to the floor. You curse under your breath for being so fragile.

God. Why this fucking feelings don't stop even before your last breath? Why do they only get worse? Love, anger, sadness, disgust. It's all so overwhelming that you're starting to feel dizzy and nauseous.

Slowly, you stand up, still trembling and with small steps you walk to your room, finding the rope you placed on the bed a few minutes ago before Nikolai called. A small breathy chuckle leaves your lips, but it sounds more like a broken whimper.

You stand before the bed, grabbing the rope with trembling hands, caressing the material— The image of Nikolai's face after he comes home, opening the door of the room to meet with your lifeless body, is stuck in your mind.

How his eyes would widen, how he would desperately pull you out of the rope and hold you in his arms, close to his chest as he cries and curses himself for not being able to do something to stop you. His knuckles would caress your cheeks while his tears fell to your face.

The thought of it hurts your heart.

A part of you wants to stay, to keep enjoying your time with him, however, the pit in your stomach was becoming unbearable.

You felt pity for Nikolai.

But you'll finally enjoy that freedom you wished so much, you'll finally get rid of these emotions that consume your very soul, you—

“Think you can escape me, huh?”

A deep voice tickles your ear, and the second you turn around you find Nikolai smiling, as if the sight in front of him was amusing. You instinctively take a step back, letting out a yelp as you fall to the bed.

“Darling, you know that is not the way to cope with your temporary problems.”

How did he get here so quickly when a few minutes ago you were on a call with him?

Right. Nikolai has his coat. Probably he ended up noticing your fake excitement and decided to go home to check on you first instead of going to a supermarket and buying you snacks.

He crawls to the bed, taking the rope from your hands and throwing it away.

“I told you, didn't I? You won't leave me.”

Nikolai's voice gets deeper as he speaks. He seizes your jaw a bit too harshly. Glaring down at you with a serious expression only to lean down and kiss your lips, then the tip of your nose, and finally your forehead.

“It hurts me… that you want to leave me so badly…” He snorts, looking away from you and biting his lower lip, holding back from something that you weren't exactly sure.

You look away as well, feeling ashamed, among many other emotions that curse your body right now.

What if Nikolai hates you now?

That was even worse— If the only human being that cares about you hates you, you wouldn't bear the pain that'll come along with that.

As your brain keeps creating possible scenarios that might happen after this incident, tears spill from your eyes down your cheeks and you hide your face with your hands; palms muffling the small sobs that escape your lips like before.

Suddenly, you feel a weight on top of you.

You peek through the gap of your fingers and meet with Nikolai’s face nuzzling against your chest; his nose tickling your collarbone. Large and strong arms that had carried you like a princess before, are now wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Don't leave me… I love you so much, please…” He whines against your skin, almost as if he wants to sink inside you and be enveloped in your embrace. “Please, dove, pleasepleaseplease…”

Another sob leaves your mouth— Nikolai's fingers clutch around your ribs, nails almost digging desperately into you.

Slowly, you slide your hands to his back, rubbing it in small circles as you keep crying against the top of his head, his white locks feel soft against your cheek.

Instead of comforting you, he was the one being comforted.

“You're not going anywhere, are you?” He looks up at you. It didn’t sound like a threat, but you knew it actually was.

You shook your head; it's not like you have an alternative.

Nikolai sighs, nuzzling back against you and closing his eyes. After noticing you stopped caressing his back, he nudges your side as an indication to keep doing it.

“…Dove, you’re mine… If anything, I should be the one to take your life away from you…” He mumbles, giggling as your breath hitches at his words.

You can't escape him anymore.

© 2024 pinklacydovey

[richeeduvie]

obsessed with baby not being allowed to come on their like 3 day business trips and it being such a drama and heartbreak

imagine them on the phone and roman finds out she’s going to some party stewy’s throwing back home, he’s threatening to commit one second and being degraded the next

'Roman. I love you.'

'...'

Roman's staring at the message and already feeling like death's on his skin.

'what'

'if you see anything on social media or in the press, it is nothing like what you would be thinking. Stewy is throwing a party. Not even anything stereotypically drug-prominent. It's professional and I'm inviinited.'

Baby's so nervous that it's like she had a stroke in the midst of her text.

Roman doesn't respond.

'Roman'

'Roman please do go overboard on a reaction. It's a professional event and if there are drugs, serious drugs, I won't do anything. You know that.'

Roman doesn't respond.

'Roman'

It's five minutes until Baby gets a photo sent to her. It's a knife on a dresser.

'slitting my wrists ttyl'

...Baby just sighs.

'Roman. Don't be a bitch about this. Suicide's dramatic.'

'I said ttyl fuck off.'

Roman's looking pissy and small when he phone begins to ring. And ring - he scratches his head. He's already whiny.

He picks up, breathing into the phone and pressing the tip of the knife into the dresser.

"Hi, you dirty fucking whore. You're a slut, you already picked out who you're gonna fuck at Stewy's gangbang or do you need to do a gutter-pill or two to do that."

"Roman-"

"It's a been three fucking days. I just hold no importance to you. I don't know why I believe your assurance. Every fucking time. I think I'd be ten times stronger as a male if I was a incel. Screw your vagina. Screw you!"

"...Keep it up and you will be. You can't fuck anybody else and no, I don't plan to fuck anyone myself but sometimes you push it, Roman."

Roman takes in a breath, raises a hurt brow.

"...Why the fuck would you say that?"

He sounds hurt. Baby, in her panic, took the degradation a bit to harshly. It's all fake, but she still shouldn't mention any idea of wanting someone else. Not with Roman. He takes nothing seriously, but nothing's a joke when it comes to her.

"I was joking, Roman. You're planning to slit your wrists, harshness is sensible."

"It's fucking bitchy. And hurtful. Fuck you."

Baby closes her eyes.

"I won't go. Okay? I'll call you tomorrow, we can screen-watch a movie."

Roman just wants to go home, not having you to press your hands into him, like you'll grab at the hot parts of his stomach makes him even more sick. But he'll fucking take it over you at Stewy's party. He doesn't care if you don't do anything. You just should be...waiting for him.

He waits for you. It's only fair, he doesn't think of doing anything outside of you other than work or something with his family. Jesus, Roman can't love you more than you love him, that's just ridiculous.

But if he outbids you in that sense, he can hold it over for you forever.

"Stay on call. Don't be a fucking bitch."

"Okay, Rome."

The best thing you can do is just keep yourself breathing into the phone, it's easy to not be a bitch when you're not saying anything for Roman to get at.

And Roman listens, knife pressing harder into the dresser as he relaxes on the bed. He presses harder remembering you want to go to Stewy's stupid fucking party.

But Roman chucks the knife across the room once you've settled with your breath.

[eluminium]

Skizz Week 2, day 1 baybee! Here we go again! Can't wait to see how this one goes. I'm aiming to get all days done this time, but I won't make any promises!

Of course, thank you @skizzlemanweek for organizing this again and creating the prompts!

Prompt 1: Calm / Chaos

"Wow, someone's birthday today or something?"

A soft smile decorates Skizz's face, the dull light of the communicator screen reflecting in his eyes. The player list shows an unusual amount of active hermits but really, he didn't have to check. He feels it in the air, the energy of the server itself shifting and warping the more hermits there are. It's something Skizz has had to grow used to lately. Not since Legacy has he been in a long-term world with anyone but himself, and it is a little jarring to feel that exciting energy a server has when its members are there in droves. Not that he doesn't like it, of course! It's great to feel that unifying energy after so long. He's just rusty at it.

What he's not rusty at though is his hobby of people watching. And if the buzz in the air tells him anything it's that it's high time he park his butt somewhere and take a few moments to look around. With that goal in mind, he closes his communicator and steps out of his crack-placed fort and down onto the staircase ramp. His footsteps echo and bounce around in the cavern below, almost creating the illusion of a marching band following behind.

Above him, a pair of ears perk up at the noise and a muzzle sticks out over the edge of the newly finished pasture. Skizz looks over his shoulder at the sound of hooves and waves to his horse, Breadstick. Breadstick responds with a snort before returning to his previous activity. Which was eating hay.

Skizz rolls his eyes fondly at the attitude before he looks upon the pyramid standing tall before him. His pyramid. His FINISHED pyramid. Pride surges in his chest like a volcano about to explode as his gaze travels from the gloomy dark bottom layer all the way to the pristine top reflecting the sun's light. The smile returns to his face with a vengeance. He made that. He made that with his own two hands! And it doesn't look awful! It looks good! Of course, the inside still needs to be finished, but the exterior-

"AAA!"

He almost trips when the deepslate bridge transitions into a spongey grass path. Luckily he manages to remember how his feet work before he has to eat dirt. He wipes his forehead with a "phew!" before looking back up at the pyramid. Specifically, at the very top.

"Now that's a pretty good spot for watching peeps, don'tcha think?" He says to no one in particular. The very top of the pyramid is made of stairs so sitting there should be pretty easy and relatively comfortable. And it's obviously high up, too!

Now, Skizz is not a man who thinks through all the pros and cons, he'd rather test it out instantly and then make his judgment. So without further thought, he spreads his pristine white wings and summons a few wind charges from his inventory (Rockets are like, so yester-update). With a powerful flap and a few gusts, he launches himself into the air like a firework. The wind ruffles his black and grey locks as he expertly climbs in altitude until he can leisurely glide and land on the tippy top of his pyramid.

"Nailed it! First try!" He pats himself on the back before an unexpected chill travels through his body. Not only is the air around him colder, but the quartz under him is too! When he sits down, he yelps at the temperature difference. What's this dark magic?!

…He facepalms. It's colder because he's higher up. And quartz is white. He even pointed out the top's reflectiveness less than five minutes ago! How could he already have forgotten? His eyes close and he can't help but laugh at himself because really, who else would be that much of a moron?

"Well, some things change, some things stays the same! I'll just have to use my butt warmth." He shrugs cheerfully as he wraps his wings around himself like a blanket.

Now snuggly cocooned in his own body heat after having put a point in the "con" column of this spot, Skizz finally looks out over the landscape before him.

And his jaw drops.

It's gorgeous. A mix of serene nature and player-made beauty, like an improvised yet enchanting dance between the server and its inhabitants. Buildings, organics, and terraformed terrain bleeding into the naturally created while still bearing the marks of the hands that made them possible made them real. He has to catch his breath for a second, internally kicking himself for not noticing the view sooner. Yeah, okay, he was busy building, but come on! This is so pretty! From Gem's quiet fishing village on the river to Tango's magnificently complex house behind him ("not a builder" his ass-) to the painting-worthy Post Office in the distance. Even Pixelpulse Valley on his right, with its intentional exclusion of nature, fits perfectly. If he really focuses, he can see glimpses of Joel's masterful and tightly packed city nestled against Magic Mountains cliffside.

The sight is so easy on the eyes it forces Skizz to stop. To really take in what he's seeing. It would be beyond wasteful to not live in the moment right now! To not acknowledge the calm breeze brushing through his hair and feathers and across his bare arms. To not bathe in the midday sun's rays like a very happy lizard. To not listen to the faraway placing of blocks echoing between hills and not smell the fresh humid air that carries just the slightest scent of redstone.

It's serene up here, and a calm Skizz hasn't felt in a long time settles comfortably in his bones like a soft yet heavy blanket. The sky above him is an endless yet inviting deep blue, only broken up by a few clouds that look as soft as sheep's wool. Far below, the river flows ever onward with salmon, cod, squid, and one confused guardian occasionally breaching the surface. From up here, the river looks calm, but Skizz knows from building his bridge that there are some mean currents in there that should not be underestimated. Somewhere nearby, a few birds are having a riveting conversation, adding a soft song to the air's choir. Said choir may be getting pretty busy, but it's far enough away to lull his mind as a deep breath leaves him and he sinks into his seat.

He's been working for a while now, huh? In fact, he hasn't really stopped working since he joined. And if he was not working, he was hanging out with his friends and being social. Or hunting them, but hey, that's a social activity too! …But he hasn't given time to himself. Time to sit around and just exist, time to let the server in and let it take him on a stroll. Time to reflect on how utterly humble and grateful he is for getting to be here. But now, sitting on the top of his proudest creation, he gives himself that time as his mind falls quiet.

…

He doesn't know how long he sits there until his lazily wandering eyes catch on something new that guides him out of his trance. There's movement in Pixelpulse Valley. A yellow blob walking around the big grey plain that hasn't yet had any buildings erected. Ah, it has to be Impulse! There's no one Skizz knows who wears those gaudy shades of yellow and actually pulls them off!

What is he doing, though? Maybe planning out a new building? Or he could be experimenting with some contraption for Metro Mayhem? The curiosity that bubbles under Skizz's skin is irresistible and he fishes out a spyglass from his inventory at lightning speeds. Bringing the well-loved tool to his eye and focusing back on Impulse, he instantly notices that there are no blocks placed out, making the contraption theory unlikely. Same with the building theory, since his cyborg-y best friend doesn't have any blueprints or even blocks in his hands. Instead, a shiny Netherite sword rests in Impulse's grip as he goes around…tapping the stone with it? A questioning noise leaves Skizz as he watches his best friend carefully poke block after block like one of them is suddenly going to explode. Strange, which just makes it more interesting to investigate!

He stands back up and stretches out his wings yet again to prepare for flight. He catches himself though, and his gaze roams one more time over the view around him. He manages to spot more colorful moving blobs on the ground, which must be other Hermits going about their business. Above him, a rocket goes off, and he watches Tango glide over him, aiming for his factory too far away to see. A grin carves itself into Skizz's face. He may not have gotten much people-watching done today, but there's now no doubt that the peak of his pyramid is perfect for his hobby. And not just for his hobby either, he reminds himself, but for relaxing in general. He kneels down and pats the now warmed-up quartz.

"I'll be back, buddeah! You and I are going to be hanging out a lot in the future, just you wait." He says to the pyramid before he stands back up and summons "Failguy" from his inventory. With a cheer, he leaps off of the quartz, ready to have some fun screwing with Impulse. The ever-mischievous Hermitcraft is right behind him, aiming the breeze to make sure the newbie knows that it, too, enjoys the rush the Hermits provide.

[piracytheorist]

Episode 36 reactions!

I don't think one single minute passed this episode without me bursting out in laughter XD

I will get what interesting details I can, though! And here we have soap opera male character who has a Betrothed in the West. Interesting! Why did they separate, and how did she end up in Westalis, or he in Ostania? Did she defect and is waiting for him to join her? I need the full context, Berlint in Love!

Looks like one of the things that make Becky rush to be a grown-up is how she can't wait to have romantic feelings and relationships. Gurl, you're six. Pick up a doll or a ball.

The way the next scene was shown (hilarious) it looks like it was Anya who first picked up the phone, and didn't even make a sound before Becky started off her rant. Picking up the phone as a kid is quite a responsibility!

The music suddenly went full humor shoujo there XD

I love how Martha is already onto Becky.

She's like "Yo maybe reel it in a little"

The way all three of them are in completely different wavelengths is hilarious. I guess Twilight, the honey-trap master, sees Becky as the girl she is and cannot imagine she'd ever have such passionate imaginings with him.

The hell, though. I've met my favourite actor from up close in a convention and that was pretty much my reaction while being close to him. I feel Becky but someone needs to tell her of this thing called parasocial relationship--

WHAAAAAT

I had my eyes glued to the screen for this. It's definitely not surprising that the Blackbells would hire such an experienced bodyguard for Becky, but it's very interesting how it was pointed out to us! I wonder what we'll get to see next with her! (reminder: anime only!)

Becky really thinks she lives in a shoujo story doesn't she XD

I mean, Anya thinks she lives in a Spy Wars story so it's not that surprising XD

I love how in the "new" family photo Wiesel is added in front of Bond!

This episode is full chaos and I love it.

Seriously, the way Anya's powers work for her character is amazing. Usually, we'd get to see those imaginings even if she didn't have telepathy. But since she can see them with us, she gets a fair place as - almost - an audience proxy. And I mean, yeah, why wouldn't Anya be excited at the idea of super tasty food all of the time (even when papa is super busy), not having to do chores, and having fun family outings all of the time?

Completely different wavelengths, I tell you. How does this show make me love misunderstandings XD

And then a fourth wavelength is added and it's just! You don't know where to begin!

Poor Bond was heartbroken that Becky didn't notice him! Poor boy!

I find it really funny that this episode happened now, just a little after we got heavy hints that Loid is falling hard for Yor, and Becky is still like "I will win his heart with my six-year-old charm!"

If you count Bond dealing with getting rejected, that's five different wavelengths in one single screencap. No-one knows what's going on, not even Anya the telepath or Twilight the master spy.

Those are not the family teacups! Interesting choice. Also Becky's face, yeah that's exactly how I was when approaching my favourite actor for my photo shoot with him. I was smiling from one ear to the other, though XD

Also, I remember getting sent manga screencaps with Loid in such a cardigan! And I guessed right that it would be a beige one! I mean, it's a pretty common colour for a grandpapa cardigan, but has he maybe worn this before?

I wonder how he'd react and adapt if he knew Becky is having a crush on him. Like, what would he do? He'd definitely avoid anything inappropriate for all the obvious reasons, but here he's trying to pull back because he thinks Becky is getting suspicious of him XD

Send this to a friend without context and ask them to guess what the actual fuck is going on here. This is Misunderstandings: the Right-Before-Holidays Special.

Pure Chaos and it just

keeps

going.

This is exactly what I signed up for when I watched the very first episodes and was like "please tell me the entire show is like this"

Poor Yor, though. Her very first instinct was to blame herself and think of herself as incompetent. I guess old habits die hard.

Simp alert.

YEAH DEFINITELY NOT SCREAMING AT THIS

Seriously, though! She remembers what he told her there (though, weren't they supposed to repeat the conversation the next day?) and I hope she remembers how vulnerable he made himself with her.

OH BOI I DON'T SHIP OFTEN BUT WHEN I SHIP. I SHIP.

LOID BROUGHT YOR'S COAT WITH! MY GOD!

I mean! This isn't supposed to be a twiyor-centric episode and yet!

BECAUSE YOU WEREN'T RICH AS A KID AND THEN YOUR CHILDHOOD WAS VIOLENTLY RIPPED AWAY FROM YOU 😭😭

If you thought I wouldn't grab even this opportunity to make this angsty, well, you were wrong

The highest prize in the hammer competition thingy is... a q-tip?

We stan. Everything for the ultimate q-tip.

Becky sees Loid's ._. face and she's like

The way he said that "Yoru-san" there, though! This was the cherry on top of this entire hilarious part!

It was weird to see there was an entire small part on Nightfall, considering we haven't seen her in the entire season. However.

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS. WHY IS HE WATCHING THEM LIKE THAT.

(again, anime only here)

And I'm like, whoa. That's a very suspicious guy thrown in the middle of a filler part (I was told this is anime original) and not shown again. Since the next episode is the last of the season, I assume we'll see him again in that one?

I remember that in episode 20, when Loid is in the hospital, we see a moment from afar with a moving shadow, like someone was watching them. I noticed it on a rewatch and up until now I thought that was Nightfall. But now?

Seriously, though, are they not noticing him??

What he doin

I love how Handler said she doesn't want to overwork her agents... I wonder if she says anything relevant in the manga but I dare not look into the chapter after the one with Becky XD I'm guessing she actually took to heart the reprimand from HQ to be more lax with her agents.

Nightfall shows an almost audacious level of self-confidence in front of her boss... and Handler doesn't deny it. She trusts her and actually thinks the same - that Nightfall is probably the only one capable of handling Twilight's missions.

Anyway, Nightfall is going all "Senpai will notice me" and I'm like

ADDITIONAL CRUISE FOOTAGE???? 👀👀👀👌👌

Another hopeless suitor, Nightfall goes like "Did you spot any flaws in that Briar woman yet or" having no idea he was looking at Yor like the yearning simp he is <3

Nightfall being all "Pick me. Choose me. Love me." and then Twilight is like "Wow she did all of that hard job while I was gone. Guess she deserves the leftover souvenirs."

Like. I'm crying laughing over this. He didn't even think about getting a souvenir for her, not even as a cover. Nightfall couldn't be more hopeless.

And then she gives him that look

And the little hope she didn't even have is thrown out the window.

I love how Twilight turns around in shock and goes like "Why is glaring at me like that?!" because you idiot you gave her "leftovers"

Like I know he thinks they're not supposed to actually connect as friends but still. For a master spy he's so dense XD

They do kinda make you feel bad for her, though. She is trying really hard, and it would be hypocritical to blame her social awkwardness when we're here shipping Mr. Emotional Constipation and Ms. Naivete Personified. She would have actually been sympathetic if she wasn't so aggressive towards Yor (and in her mind, Anya too).

Anyway. Very funny and unhinged episode but there's only ONE EPISODE LEFT. I'M NOT READY FOR THE HIATUS 😭😭

[hannahlovesluca]

i was wondering if request were open if it is i would like to request for luxiem angst to fluff (separately) where the reader overworks themselves to the point where their mental & physical health r really bad then like luxiem steps in and like try to like stop u which leads to an argument then uh fluff u can add plot twists if u like !! ( im sorry if u dont understand 😭)

Only if ur request r open!! If not feel free to ignore!! - 🍡

hi 🍡!! nice to see you back here!!

| warnings: shu’s is a bit suggestive

As soon as Vox had come home, he saw you still working on that goddamn outfit.

See, you were Luca’s mama. You designed all his outfits, his hair, everything.

Right now, you were working on making him the scariest mafia boss this godforsaken world has seen.

But if you spend even a second longer working on that stupid outfit, he was going to rip you to pieces.

You deserve more than just sitting at your desk, sketching, sewing, and even knitting now and then.

And he was going to see it through that you did get more than that!

“Y/N, hey, lets go to bed, yeah? It’s midnight already, love,” he smiles at you with that charm, the one you can’t say no to.

However, tonight was different.

Tonight was dedicated to work.

“Love, come on… please?” Milord was practically begging by now.

And who were you to say no to this handsome devil?

When you (reluctantly) agreed, he scooped you up in his arms and practically threw you on the bed before laying his head on top of your stomach, finally basking in the peace surrounding you two.

Mysta frowned.

You’d been streaming over half of the day…

What has it been now..?

He checks the time on his phone.

Eleven hours.

Eleven hours you have spent staring into a screen and simply daring to dream.

Eleven hours you have spent narrating god knows what and making stupid commentary.

Well Mysta wasn’t having it!

Not only was it bad for you, it was bad for him to go this long without kisses.

Mysta texts you to come to the living room, saying he had something important to say and it couldn’t wait until after stream.

After a few minutes explaining to chat that ‘your food had arrived’ you made your way out into the living room.

“Yes, Mysta?”

“End stream.”

“Huh- what? Mysta, no. I have to keep going, they’re expecting me to.” You deject with a small smile, insisting that you had to keep going.

“Y/N, they don’t expect anything from you. You’re their entertainment, not their friend. And frankly, you’re my ____friend and I think I rank higher, hm?”

Ike couldn’t say much.

He was just as bad as you when it comes to this, but his own tendencies be damned.

He was going to make you take better care of yourself.

Was.

It wasn’t to be taken lightly.

He slowly opens your office door, looking at you hunched over your desk and taking notes about god knows what, your hands shaking and your mechanical pencil almost out of lead after having using it for over five hours straight.

As soon as he had caught your attention, without sharing any words, he swept you up into his arms and held you for what felt like forever, but in reality had only been a few minutes.

(oh god im running out of ideas)

Luca hated every second of this; he hated seeing you so overworked, hated seeing you stressed… he just hated it all.

So,

He did the only thing that made sense.

He offered his hand to you and gave you a charming grin.

"Wanna dance?"

You look at him, horrified.

“We are not dancing, Luca.”

The golden retriever-like man pouts, crossing his arms.

“Why not, baby?” He asks with a pout.

You look up from your computer and look at him with a small smile.

You were so tired and you were sure you looked awful but his sweet smile and puppy dog eyes got to you.

You take his hand.

"Well, you got me, now. I can't say no to you. But we're gonna get some food and I'm not changing into a dress."

The man beams, happy that he'd gotten his way.

And with that, Luca takes your hand and immediately brings you in for your first dance of the night.

It's slow, soft and romantic, and honestly, the two of you can't take your eyes off each other.

"I missed this, baby," he whispers.

Luca pulls you close to him as the two of you sway in place.

"Me too,” you whisper back.

You lay your head against his chest and feel your stress and exhaustion melt away.

This moment was worth everything.

"You're beautiful." He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

(i genuinely dont know what to put..😭)

Shu loves that you love work, but by God if you spend another minute at that desk he was going to go insane.

"You know I'm a simple man," he says. "all I need is a little food and a little sun, and the rest of my needs are met."

He's laying out the blanket for the afternoon.

"And if you keep this up, my food and sun time is going to be at night."

You sigh, stretching out your back. You'd been at your desk all day, trying to figure out the final parts of the puzzle to the latest quest you've been given.

The strong mafia boss himself had come to you, begging you to complete this mission and find his missing son, and the people were starting to get nervous as he had been missing for a few days.

"I'm sorry," you sigh. "I know I've been at this forever."

"It's been nearly two hours," Shu snarls.

"Sorry, sorry," you sigh. "I can tell it's getting on your nerves." You stand up and stretch out, then smile at him. "What should we do this afternoon?"

Shu's lips twitch and curl. "It's too late to go to the beach now," he says. "And honestly, the weather looks pretty bad. I was thinking, though," he smirks at you. "Since it's our first anniversary, and I was thinking, well," he motions to the blanket.

You immediately go red, lightly smacking his arm.

“Shu!”

He chuckles.

“Kidding, kidding.” He wraps his arms around you and holds you fast. "Seriously though," he murmurs. "Happy anniversary, babe."

You melt and smile, holding onto his face. "I love you."

[biblio-smia]

scrapes and bruises — three.

masterlist | requests are open!

pairing: spiderman!ethan landry x gender neutral reader

[one.] [two.] [three.] [four.] [five.]

ethan landry lost his punctuality with the spider-powers he wielded. it was hard to imagine that the boy who showed up at least 45 minutes late to any event once had a reputation for arriving 5 minutes early, at all times, prior to the additional job he'd taken on.

and so his heart raced and adrenaline pumped throughout his body as ethan swung from building to building, deterred by disasters he couldn't help but prevent. ethan swung until he got to a place he could safely unmask, and then he ran as fast as his long legs could take him.

the class was silent, save for the booming voice of your professor. the peace of the class was interrupted with the echoing slam of the door as ethan raced in, out of breath. before the professor could say anything, ethan was apologizing, slowly backing into his seat next to you.

"ethan!" you nag as soon as he sits down and your professor resumes his lesson. "you're an hour late!"

"which means we still have an hour left," ethan grins, smile faltering upon seeing your expression. "glass half full?"

"i'm seriously gonna kill you," you say, shoving ethan's shoulder.

ethan winces and your face contorts in worry, leaning in closer.

"did you get in a fight?" you ask quietly. "did you get hurt?" worry is etched in your features as you examine ethan for any visible injuries.

"yeah, on the... i slammed into the door too hard..."

the worry drops on your face and you shove ethan again.

"ow!" ethan protests, though the developing bruise didn't hurt that bad.

"i took notes for you," you say, sliding over ethan's notebook (when did you grab that?) and a spare pen.

ethan leaned in quickly to peck your cheek, taking his notebook back gratefully.

"have i told you how amazing i think you are?" ethan opened up his notebook to the place where you stopped, scrawling down things as the professor said them.

"you can keep reminding me," you say, trying your best to fight back a smile.

ethan reached for his bag — only to realize it was not right next to him.

before ethan could groan, you placed his school bag in his lap at this point, you didn't even have to open your mouth to chastise him.

"i left my stuff at yours?" ethan asked, already knowing the answer.

"mm-hmm," you nod and ethan can't decipher the expression on your face.

ethan gets out his laptop and places it in front of him, opening it up to reveal a sticky note on the corner of the screen.

have a good day baby :)

it was your handwriting and ethan looked over to see you avoiding his eyes.

"you were supposed to see that when you weren't right next to me," you mumbled.

ethan could only grin, leaving the note on despite it blocking a portion of his screen.

"i really don't think i tell you it enough," ethan started. "but you are seriously the best thing that's ever happened to me." his voice drips with sincerity and quiet vulnerability.

you're quiet for a few moments but you finally look at ethan and the softness in his warm brown eyes. you couldn't really contain your smile if you tried.

"you can't say things like that when i can't kiss you."

"i mean you could..." ethan trails off at the look you give him. "wait till after class?"

you laugh quietly and take his hand, and ethan almost sighs in relief. he really couldn't take you being mad at him. he looks at your intertwined hands and gives you the sweetest smile.

"pay attention," you chide, though you're smiling, too. "i don't want you to fall behind."

ethan nodded and he did as he was told. there you were, taking care of him over and over again. he could only hope that when it really mattered, he could do the same for you.

「 … 」

class ended quickly with the biggest distraction at your side. you collected your things and walked out hand-in-hand with ethan, knowing he'd reteach you anything you didn't quite grasp later.

ethan told you about his journey getting to class while the two of you walked to the courtyard; mindy wanted to meet up.

you stopped ethan just before exiting the building, pulling him to the side. "i have to go ask mr. sanders something real quick. go ahead?"

"you don't want me to go with you?" ethan asked with the slightest of pouts.

"i'll be quick," you pull ethan into a soft kiss. "plus, it'll be suspicious if we get there together."

ethan sighed a little dramatically, not wanting to let you go just yet. "okay," he said reluctantly, pulling you in for one more kiss before you headed in the opposite direction.

ethan arrived at the courtyard alone; he was the first one there and he didn't relax until he saw mindy approaching. ethan took a seat and she came over to greet him before taking one next to him.

but mindy was acting... strange. she was eyeing ethan like she does when she's about to start monologuing; which ethan did not need right now.

"so..." mindy began, and ethan knew she was about to attack. "have anything you'd like to share with me today, landry?"

shit. mindy knew something — but what?

"w-what are you talking about?" ethan stuttered, immediately cursing himself for being a terrible liar.

"you know... like any secrets you'd like to spill?"

oh, god. which one — spiderman or dating?

"n-no...?" ethan squeaked as mindy got closer, squinting her eyes at him.

"are you sure? because i know, ethan. i'm just waiting on your confession."

the alarm bells in ethan's head began to ring and the panic set in. spiderman or dating?

"i, um... i don't know, i mean, maybe you're jumping to conclusions—"

"i saw it with my own eyes!" mindy exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

spiderman or dating????

"i saw you two kiss!" mindy continued before pulling a face a disgust and ethan couldn't help the relief that washed over his body.

"oh, yeah, that—"

"so you do admit it!"

"well, yeah, we just— i mean, we—"

mindy smiled, placing a hand on ethan's shoulder. "relax, dude. i don't need the details. just happy to know i'm right," she smiled, then turned to wave at you, chad, anika, tara, and quinn, all approaching from various directions. "i won't say anything to anyone," mindy promised. and before ethan could thank her, mindy went on. "it's pretty obvious, though."

ethan blushed and tried to calm his face as you all gathered around, talking and catching up while you could. you were seated across from ethan, giving you the perfect opportunity to admire him under the sunlight.

eventually, ethan got a notification on his phone that made him leave in a hurry. your heart sank a little at his departure, but you knew things got active as the sun set. ethan caused a ripple effect and most of your friends said their goodbyes, too, promising to meet again next week; now, it was only you and chad left standing.

chad, being the good friend that he was, walked with you to your apartment. it wasn't a long trip but the sun was quickly setting and spiderman couldn't always keep an eye out for you (though he did, anyway).

"so, what do you think of him, anyway?" chad asked.

"hmm?"

"of spiderman?"

"pfft. spiderman. why would i be thinking of spiderman?" you weren't such a great liar yourself.

chad looked at you with a brow raised.

"you don't... think of spiderman?"

"no! why would i? he's just... spiderman, y'know?" you winced as your voice cracked.

chad crossed his arms. "you're acting weird."

"you're acting weird!"

"do you... know something?" chad asked carefully, not quite sure what to make of you.

"what? no, i don't know anything. do you know something?"

"you know, you can't just throw everything i say back to me," chad said. but he was persistent. "how about you tell me what you know and i'll tell you what i know."

"what? no way. i told you, i don't know anything—"

"not that ethan's spiderman?" chad asked knowingly, raising an eyebrow.

you were silent for a moment, shock clear on your face.

"you knew?"

chad nodded, smirk faltering as he realized he knew... before you.

"well, i kinda found out— i mean, it was a complete accident—"

"yeah," you nodded.

chad sighed, digging into his bag to try and fix his mistake. he handed you the key to ethan's apartment. "go... talk to him?"

"yeah," you repeated, taking the key.

chad sighed again, checking the time. "go. he should be home soon."

and you stood there, staring at the key, feelings of hurt rising in your throat that you couldn't quite explain, thinking about what to do now.