#and to feel like you were going to have a break but then not have it

[luveline]

hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 

Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 

You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 

What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 

James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 

“Love, for sure.” 

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 

“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”

James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 

Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 

“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 

“She did it to me, too.” 

Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 

“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 

“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 

The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 

James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 

“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 

“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 

“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 

“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 

“We can go back.” 

“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 

Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 

“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 

“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 

“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 

Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 

Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 

You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 

“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 

“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 

Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 

[ms-demeanor]

I've been following what's been going on with Belphie the kitten and his person, Greer Stothers, has just mentioned pet insurance in a tag on a post and I wanted to give an example from my life backing up why pet insurance can be a good idea and why I think it is worthwhile.

Two years ago my sister's dog had bloat while she was on vacation. The kennel he was staying at recognized symptoms and called my sister to clear them to take him to the emergency vet. My sister is very financially secure and this dog is an enormous part of her life, so she said yes with barely a moment of hesitation. That ended up being about twelve thousand dollars of emergency surgery.

Large Bastard and I got pet insurance for Tiny Bastard the same week because we realized that if someone had presented that option to us, we would have had no choice but to have Tiny Bastard put down, and we didn't want to be put in that position.

I did a lot of research about different kinds of pet insurance and different levels of coverage and annual maximums and deductibles and so on and so forth. Tiny Bastard is a senior dog, so this was going to be expensive no matter what options we went with, so I chose a moderately priced plan with a $500 annual deductible, unlimited annual coverage, that pays 80% of the bills incurred annually below the maximum. What that means is that we pay the first $500 of care totally out of pocket, after which point we are reimbursed 80% of any vet bills for care covered by the plan.

The first year we had this plan I was kind of iffy about it. It's a noticeable monthly expense and we didn't even spend the deductible in vet bills the first year. Except that a month before the policy was set to renew, Tiny Bastard got diagnosed with diabetes. We now have monthly insulin costs and syringe costs; there are tests she has to have regularly to monitor her overall condition and we need to do more frequent vet visits to track symptoms.

Suddenly the insulin alone means that the insurance is break-even within six months and the additional visits and tests are something we can afford instead of something we'd have to put on credit.

Our plan (through ManyPets) covers medication, surgery, diagnostics, medical equipment, and euthanasia and cremation. It doesn't cover pre-existing conditions, joint conditions for dogs who were signed up over a certain age, dental care, spay/neuter, vaccinations, or prescription food but honestly all of that makes me just kind of wish we'd signed her up earlier - her knee problems *would* be covered if we'd had her signed up as a puppy, and the monthly cost would have been lower if we'd signed her up then. And there are at least a few emergency vet bills that I wouldn't still be paying off on my credit card. Hell, I've probably paid more in interest on some bruising she got in a fight three years ago than I have for this policy as a whole.

I am glad that Greer is able to take care of Belphie. I am glad that my sister was able to take care of her dog. But I'm also really, really glad that for a relatively low cost, I would be able to take care of Tiny Bastard if she were catastrophically injured, or if she needed emergency surgery. I'm glad that I'm able to take care of her now with her medications and her additional vet visits.

There are a lot of people who say that pet insurance isn't worth it, especially not for young animals. But if your young animal gets very sick, or gets badly injured, or eats a hairband and needs an emergency endoscopy, then it will probably be VERY worth it. It's a risk/reward question. You feel like you're wasting money if you're paying for a policy that you never use, but honestly that just means you're lucky to have a healthy pet.

I'm lucky that Tiny Bastard was relatively healthy before I got the insurance; I'm also lucky that she was insured when she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that will need lifelong care. This enables me to provide care for her that would otherwise be financially unmanageable, and that makes the insurance *extremely worth it* from my perspective.

And Belphie is a good example of why it's a good idea to get coverage even for very young pets. Greer is recommending it because this kitten has required a tremendous amount of care during a period in his life when it's generally taken for granted that a cat will be healthy. (And Greer is not stupid for forgoing pet insurance - pet insurance is still a relatively new concept and there are lots of people who are leery of it for a number of good reasons)

So I'd say that if you've got a pet or are getting a pet it is very worthwhile to find a pet insurance plan that fits in your budget. There are a variety of plans out there and some are very inexpensive. Check coverage levels (you can even get some with wellness plans that include dental care and vaccinations) and see if there's something that works for you.

I personally don't think I'm ever going to own another pet without having pet insurance. It's ridiculous how much easier it is for me to say yes to diagnostic tests or different treatments than it was before because I know I'm going to be able to fit Tiny Bastard's care into our budget.

[bpmiranda]

hey could I request lumberjack Logan being known as all emo and solitaire at work but one day his gf shows up because he forgot lunch?

My Girl (Logan Howlett)

A/N: fluffy, lumberjack!logan, bubbly!gf, 20+ f!reader, grumpy!logan, suggestive content

When Logan spent most of the day chopping wood and hauling tree trunks, he wasn’t exactly in a chatting mood so the men he worked with didn’t really know much about him. Logan put in the long hours and he’d go home, he wouldn’t ever go to the bar with them, wouldn’t join in on the work gossip. His coworkers only knew two things about him; his name and what car he drove. Sometimes he would be dropped off and they only ever saw the silhouette of whom they could assume was a woman, but Logan never had her get out of the car.

“Who’re you hiding from us, Logan?” They would tease and he’d only smirk to himself, shaking his head as he continued his tasks.

You weren’t a secret, he wasn’t trying to hide you. Logan wanted to keep you safe, to protect you, and above all, keep you to himself. Some of the men didn’t know how to control themselves around pretty women and Logan believed you were the prettiest thing to grace the Earth. He knew he wouldn’t be able stand their ogling eyes on you, their cheap sweet talk making you uncomfortable, so he’d kiss you and tell you he loved you before getting out, he’d tell you to sit in the car as he grabbed his tools, and give you a sly wink as you backed out to head home.

It wasn’t your intention to drive up there without his knowledge, but he had forgotten his lunch and you couldn’t stand the thought of him working those long shifts without something to eat. As you scanned the yard for him among the others who were already taking their lunch break, one of them began to approach you with a small smirk, his eyes roaming over the backside of your jeans. When you spotted Logan, he was already sauntering towards you, the ax resting over his shoulder as you happily bounded over to him, unaware of the man now cowering below Logan’s sharp gaze behind you. “Don’t be mad. You forgot your lunch.” You say against his lips as he brings you into his side with an arm around your waist. You press a hand into his chest and hold tightly onto his lunchbox behind his back as he kisses you with such fervor it makes you dizzy.

It’s his fault he forgot it, left it sitting there on the counter on which he also had you sitting with his head between your thighs. It had been a rushed morning, but if he was going to choose whether to spend what extra time he did have packing his lunch or pleasuring you, he would choose the latter again. “Couldn’t ever be mad at you, baby.” He whispers against your lips, holding you so possessively you feel slightly out of breath. “You should go home now,” He urges and he feels your lips turn into a frown against his mouth which makes him chuckle. “Or would you like to stay with me during lunch?” He asks and you nod. “Just this once.”

The other men in the lumberyard understand why he’s always racing to get home. They understand why there’s no space in his life for work buddies or late night drinks at the bar. Logan’s in love. They see it in the way you two seem to be in your own little world as you sit on the hood of the car, yapping his ear off about the errands you’re going to run and the dinner you’re going to cook while he leans against the hood beside you, eating and listening with a content look in his face. “You don’t have to go through all that trouble, princess.” He tells you as he’s packing up his lunchbox.

“Well then, what will we have for dinner?” You tease as he moves to stand in front of you, leaning into you so he can kiss you softly, his hands firmly planted on the hood as you caress his bearded jaw.

“I was hoping for a dessert first type of evening.” He whispers, making your face grow warm as he mumbles into your neck, “Let me take you out for dinner.”

The idea of a night out so you can have a relaxing night in is quite appealing and you hum as his lips move to your collarbone. “What should I do until you get home then?” You ask, sighing as he bites your earlobe gently.

“Wait for me in bed.” He whispers, one of his hands smoothed down your back and he pulls you into him, pressing your chest into his own. “You don’t have to do anything else for me today, sweetheart.”

Logan was secluded, he wasn’t big on having drinking buddies, and there wasn’t much that he wanted in terms of things. With you, however, Logan was kind and doting and all he wanted was to keep you happy and satisfied, you were all that mattered. You were his little piece of heaven on Earth and he wasn’t going to allow anything to soil what you two shared, not in this lifetime.

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened

[harrysfolklore]

casual - ln4

summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k

folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.

It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.

At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.

The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.

"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.

"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.

The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.

When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.

Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.

The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.

Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."

You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."

An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.

"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."

"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."

"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."

You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"

And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.

You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.

You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.

As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.

You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.

"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.

He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.

"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"

"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.

Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

"I miss you," he said simply.

You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.

"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.

"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."

Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.

"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"

You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"

Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.

"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"

"You're impossible, you know that?"

Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.

When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.

"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.

"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."

Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.

Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.

"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."

You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."

"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."

"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."

"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."

It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.

"Room 507. Now. Please?"

You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:

"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"

His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”

You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."

"So you're coming?"

You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."

"There's my girl"

You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.

The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.

"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.

"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"

Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."

"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"

"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."

"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."

You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."

As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.

One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.

Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.

Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.

"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.

"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"

"That I needed ice. For thinking."

"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.

"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"

As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."

"Who says I can't do both?"

Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.

He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.

You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.

As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.

The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.

After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.

The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.

It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 

And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.

You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.

"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"

You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."

"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"

You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."

Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."

You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.

Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."

"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."

"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."

"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.

"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."

"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."

"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.

"Don't worry, I can handle myself."

Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.

He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.

His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.

"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.

“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."

“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"

"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.

"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."

"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.

"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."

Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."

You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"

Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."

You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”

As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.

"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"

He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.

"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"

You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"

Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."

You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.

"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."

You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.

"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."

You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"

"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"

You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.

You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."

You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.

"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."

You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.

But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.

In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.

"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.

"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.

"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"

You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."

You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."

You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."

Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."

The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.

Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.

You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.

As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.

"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.

"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."

For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.

Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.

The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.

"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.

You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."

"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."

"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"

His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"

"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"

"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."

"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."

The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.

"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."

Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.

"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.

"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"

Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.

"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.

A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.

You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.

You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.

As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.

This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.

As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.

You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.

"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.

You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.

"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."

Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.

The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.

The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."

You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.

"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.

"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."

"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"

You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.

As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.

And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.

"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"

You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?

Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.

"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.

Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."

You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.

"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.

When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.

"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.

It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.

As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.

So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.

Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.

Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.

As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.

"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.

You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.

"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.

You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.

Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.

As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.

For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.

Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.

"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"

You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.

Downstairs, the conversation continues.

"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."

Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."

"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"

"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."

"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"

"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."

"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."

They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.

"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."

You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."

"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."

"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.

"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."

"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.

"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.

Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.

After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.

"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"

"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."

"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."

"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."

You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"

"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."

Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"

He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."

You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.

You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.

You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.

But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?

But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.

The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.

Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.

As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.

"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.

They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.

Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"

You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"

As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.

He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.

"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"

You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?

Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."

But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."

You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.

Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."

You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."

As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.

You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.

You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."

He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."

"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."

"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."

You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.

"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."

"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.

"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.

As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.

With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.

The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.

The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.

The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.

To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.

You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.

It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"

You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.

"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.

Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"

You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."

"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"

"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."

"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."

Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"

"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."

"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."

"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."

"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."

There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.

"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."

"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."

"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."

Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."

You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."

"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"

"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."

You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."

Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."

Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.

You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.

The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.

When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.

Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.

As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.

But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.

In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.

As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?

Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.

Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.

"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.

Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.

"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.

Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."

"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."

Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"

"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."

"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.

"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."

With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.

When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.

You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?

As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.

"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."

Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"

Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."

You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.

As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.

Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."

Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.

"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”

"Lando, I-"

"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."

Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.

"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."

You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"

Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"

You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.

"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."

Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."

The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.

It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.

You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.

When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.

"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."

Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.

"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.

"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."

You nod, encouraging him to continue.

"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."

The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.

"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"

You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.

As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.

Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.

Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.

"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.

You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.

The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.

"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.

"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."

"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."

You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."

You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.

"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."

Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.

"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."

"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.

"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.

Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"

He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.

As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.

"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."

As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.

You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (Teaser)

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.

⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ��˙}

Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡

[s0dium]

𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘

A/n: For all my weird tumblr smut AO3 girls Synopsis: No one expects the weird girl to have such a good pussy. Warnings: Male whimpering, squirting, pussy drunk men, pervert y/n, unprotected sex

No one suspects the weird girl to be a perverted fiend.

No one suspects the weird girl who reads AO3 and Tumblr on the bus and has key chains of their favorite chibi anime guy. No one suspects the girl who fumbles over their words during a presentation, the girl who goes to classes in sweaters and sweatpants, the girl who spends her time daydreaming about fictional scenarios. No one suspects the girl who always seems shy and sweet, only to have a secret stash of explicit fanfiction hidden on her phone, the kind that would make even the most confident person turn red.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to have such good pussy.

So when the confident, smooth-talking guy gets you in his bedroom, how the hell is it possible that he is trembling from pleasure just from slipping his tip in?

"Fuck, I c-can’t—" he groans, his voice breaking as he stumbles over the words. His usual cool demeanor is completely shattered, replaced with breathless gasps and desperate sounds. His head is thrown back, neck taut, and his eyes are screwed shut like he’s trying to hold onto every ounce of composure, terrified that if he opens them, the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through him will slip away. Every time your pussy squeezes around his aching dick his body trembles uncontrollably, muscles tensing and relaxing in waves as he tries to keep himself together.

"Look at me," you coo, your voice steady despite the pounding of your own heart. You may be practically a virgin, but you're by no means an idiot. Hours of reading smut, scrolling through Twitter porn threads, and indulging in endless fantasies have taught you more than you'd ever admit. You've spent too many nights alone, lost in stories and scenes where you imagined yourself in control, learning every filthy detail in your mind until it felt like second nature. So now, laying here with him unraveling over you, you're anything but inexperienced.

He locks eyes with you, big and desperate and you cup his perfect face with trembling hands.

"You're mine tonight ok?" you whisper, bringing him in just enough for your breath to tickle his lips, your voice low and dripping with confidence you didn't know you had. "Every sound, every breath—your mine."

"F-fuck, y-yeah I'm yours" he groans, accentuating his words with a sharp thrust right into your cervix, knocking the wind out of you.

"Mmm!" You cry. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides in and out of you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making him let out a low groan of his own as he thrusts even deeper into you. 

“Y/n I-I can feel you doing it to me,” he says hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot makes your brain go fuzzy. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as he rams into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" He grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. "Because this is how we were doing it in mine." He felt good? Try euphoric. How could it be possible that pussy feels this good?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion he makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to be a squirter.

You don't know whats happening and you don't have enough to warn him. Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to him as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

He stills his motion and watches through wide eyes as clear liquid sprays onto his abdomen and you tremble and moan. As you floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breath came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"Why did you stop?" You whisper.

Sukuna, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro

#weirdgirlpussy

[chiscaralight]

being roommates with kinich!! but you swear he hates you. he’s such pretty thing! but he almost never talks to you. he’ll do all the dishes, take out and fold your laundry and leave it on top of the washer dryer for you, he’ll clean when you’re not home and even leave food out for you when you get back late! but he just. won’t. speak to you!!!

and it’s driving you insane. you just want to get to know him! he’s gorgeous and he seems really sweet. he’s also built just the way you like. slender and toned, with the strongest gaze you’ve ever felt. is it so much to want to talk (and maybe fuck) your absolutely perfect roommate?

it’s driving you insane! so insane, that you start to miss when certain articles of clothes don’t come back from the laundry you pick up on top of the machine. maybe you didn’t actually put those panties in the bin this time, but who cares? kinich is shirtless while he does dishes this time, it’s the exact moment you need to pretend to watch something on tv!

and your sideward glances are not as slick as you think they are, because he knows exactly what you’re doing. it’s a ring from the doorbell that has you rolling your eyes, going to see who’s disturbing your peace while he licks the fork you used to eat the food he cooked a few hours ago. by the time you return, he’s already done, wiping down the counter and making his way back to his room wordlessly. you sigh in exasperation, you didn’t even get time to think about what fake story you could cook up to get him to talk to you! but as you groan at your misfortune in the living room, his fingers are wrapped hard around his cock, nose pressed into the underwear he’s stolen from you this time. It doesn’t take long before he’s making a mess around his hand, traces of your scent flooding his senses. but this pair is starting to lose its smell and he’s getting more and more fed up. how much longer can he keep this up before he breaks?

for you, it’s not much longer, because your fingers are deep in your cunt, thrusting in and out while you try to silence your sounds. you can’t even help the way his name slips from your mouth, you can’t even control it! it’s not your fault he’s been all over your mind for the past few weeks, at work, in classes, in the shower, it’s just too much for you!

and maybe you were just a bit louder than you expected, because your door is cracking open a few moments later, the afformentionef problem staring down at you ask you freeze up. he’s still deathly quiet as always, but he's practically jumping for joy in his mind. this is like a dream come true? you’ve basically been served to him on a silver platter, and he’ll make sure to not waste a single bite.

maybe a bit too literally, because your neck and chest are covered with love bites from his lips. one hand is holding one of yours above your head, the other very slowly brushing against your clit, big difference in the way he’s absolutely drilling into you. and you swear your seeing stars, moans morphing into cries as he angles up just the slightest bit, cock prodding against the walls of your cunt. it’s almost like magic, the way you feel. and he’s much less quiet now, because once his lips are on yours, he’s groaning into your mouth, teeth clashing with yours as he drags his lips downwards to sink his teeth into your skin again.

his build isn’t just for show either, because he’s flipping you over with such ease, holding your hips just where he needs them to be as he bullies his cock right back in.

kinich who now realizes how much power he holds over you, because whenever he even just as much passes by you, he can see your body tense up just the slightest bit. and he used it to his advantage! riling you up throughout the days with weird looks and soft touches, before ultimately deciding to bend you over the counter because he misses that cunt so much already </3

he’ll leave the door unlocked when he gets back, settling on the couch with speed so he can drag you onto his lap and have you ride him because it’s all he could think about in his classes.

and kinich that will beg you to let him cum in that sweet pussy just once, but between the two of you oh both know he’s lying. he’ll keep fucking his cum into you over and over, until he’s cumming inside you once again. he just can’t help it! you’re sucking him in so good like this, what did you expect him to do.

just like the way he took care of the little things, when you’re spent, on the verge of passing out on his cock, he’ll scoop you up and take you to his room, cleaning you up and wrapping you in his blankets so he can stay with you the entire night.

[misstycloud]

Isekai’d yandere x f.reader

We’ve all heard about reader getting isekai’d into another universe and bonding with the characters, but what if it was the opposite and the yandere was isekai’d while reader’s just a background character.

————-

You were the mere daughter of a baron. You were pretty, yes, but nothing to gape in awe at. To summarise, you were nothing special. Then how come the heir of a grand duchy followed you around like a puppy seeking its masters attention? Especially since it was only the day earlier that he smitten with another young miss, who he’d declared with his actions was to become his future fiancée.

Yandere! Noble who suddenly approached you out of nowhere one day. You weren’t friends and had hardly ever spoken; to ask directions or work in pairs, perhaps. He was way too cheery speaking to you. It was completely out of character for him. Where did the normally stoic and unphased young man go? He was certainly not to be found here. No, this man chatted your ear off and did not understand that you wished to be left alone. It didn’t feel very safe anymore when all his admirers glared daggers your way. There was one you were especially afraid of. He was head over heels in love with her before. What has changed? You always saw them together and she was the only one he’d smiled at genuinely. Now he didn’t even spare her a glance.

Yandere! Noble who sought you out whenever he had free time. He wanted to accompany you in breaks between your classes at the academy, he wished to escort you to town and he even showed up outside your estate. His change in behaviour was puzzling, but not as much as the shift in his speech. What were these ‘bruh’, ‘sigma’ and ‘I’m cooked’? You didn’t understand any of it, no matter how much he used it around you. You suppose you were thankful he did turn it down a notch when in others company. You already had a hard time with it, you didn’t think it was necessary for others to suffer as well.

Yandere! Noble who had been shocked when they died and woken up in the world of their favourite romance game. They had read a lot of isekai novels but never once thought the thing was actually real. Wait, if this was their favourite game, then wouldn’t that mean that you were there too? Yes! Maybe they should thank Truck-kun for hitting them on their way to work. This was much better than any ordinary life a citizen could have. At first they thought they’d be stuck in the body of a villain or a side character, but they were pleasantly surprised to find themselves being the male lead of the game. He was rich, noble, influential and devilishly handsome. He had everything.

Yandere! Noble who immediately went to the academy to find you. When playing the game, they never found themselves attracted to the female lead, despite the fact she was modelled after the general population’s preferences. It just didn’t work for them. No, they liked you. Loved you even! It didn’t matter that you were nothing more than a simple background character. You were way better and cuter than any other love interest! You kept to yourself and didn’t have many friends, however you were still very kind and modest. On top of that, you were also an animal lover- exactly like them! The two of you also shared one other interest. They wanted to know if you shared more, but unfortunately the information on you was limited(not created because you’re not important).

Yandere! Noble who wrote an email to the game developers about how they should make extra content that should only feature new information and updates on you. They insist it would sell well(no one except them would buy). Sadly they never got a reply back. Rude ass company. Maybe they should’ve claimed mental health damage because the love interests were bad, so they could sue.

Yandere! Noble who couldn’t care less about the female lead. Unfortunately they got isekaid to at the point of the game where you’d have to enter a relationship with the female lead, that you could break off eventually if you wanted to chase after someone else. And sadly for her, you were the only option. The look on her face was laughable as they told her they could give rats ass about her and how they’ve found someone much better than her in all ways.

Yandere! Noble who then realised they were not bound by any rules. In a lot of isekai the person would have to follow some original rules at least in the beginning, but there was no system or points you needed to collect. They could do whatever they wanted. They had the power, the looks, the wealth and what they wanted was you.

There is no way you’d ever say no to a future grand duke, right?

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love what I do, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

Lucky you're hot - Lewis Hamilton

request: "hiiiii!!! your fluffs are so cute 😔🤍 i have a request if you dont mind writing it. maybe one where reader came home from work and then after an hour or so lewis just come barging in saying that reader has been home for a while but didnt even cuddle him once?😔😔😔😭" - anon

warnings: none, it's fluff through and through.

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Needy and cute Lewis and sassy Lewis come hand in hand for me, so yeah, hope you like it ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Why did I agree to this meeting? It was a thought I’d had at least a dozen times today.

I kicked the front door shut behind me, tossing my bag onto the couch without even looking. My feet were halfway out of my heels as I practically flew down the hall toward the study.

I should’ve been curled up on the couch by now, probably in one of Lewis’ hoodies, something hot in my hand, and maybe, just maybe, thinking about ordering dinner.

But no, I was about to dive headfirst into yet another Zoom call.

The joys of modern life.

Ten minutes. Just survive ten minutes, and then you can call it a night.

I slid into the chair, popping open my laptop with a level of enthusiasm I definitely didn’t feel. Clicking into the meeting, I gave the screen a once-over.

Same old faces. I hit mute, leaned back, and settled into my usual routine—pretending to pay attention while my mind wandered elsewhere.

Perfect. Camera on, mic off, brain in neutral.

I was practically a Zoom ninja at this point. As long as I nodded occasionally and didn’t zone out too hard, no one would even notice I wasn’t listening.

The meeting droned on, voices blending into a background hum as I half-heartedly doodled on a notepad. Something about deliverables, reports, something-or-other that I wasn’t going to remember in an hour.

My eyes kept drifting toward the clock at the bottom of the screen, counting down the minutes until I could escape.

I barely registered the sound of the door creaking open behind me. My brain was too fried to even care. I assumed it was the wind.

Or maybe Lewis moving around the house. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important enough to break my focus—or lack thereof.

Then, I heard footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and way too familiar.

Before I could fully process what was happening, a very large, very sweaty figure appeared in the doorway and my stomach dropped.

Not now. And not like that.

“Excuse me, love” Lewis announced, his voice filled with dramatic offense. “You've been home for an hour, and not one cuddle? I’m feeling deeply neglected.”

I froze, my fingers tightening around the pen in my hand. I shot him a wide-eyed look, silently screaming at him to go away. But he wasn’t even looking at me.

No, this man was strolling into the room as if I wasn’t in the middle of an important meeting. Or, you know, on camera.

Lewis, completely unbothered, strolled over, looking every bit the part of an Olympic athlete straight out of battle—glistening with sweat, muscles still tense from whatever torturous workout he’d just finished.

And for some reason, pouting.

“Lewis” I hissed under my breath, barely daring to move my lips. “I’m in a meeting.”

He just blinked at me like he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation and I saw the gears in his head turning.

But, without a care in the world, he walked over and bent down, leaning in close, lips puckered in the most exaggerated, dramatic fashion possible.

I raised my hand to stop him, but it was too late. His lips landed on mine with a loud, unmistakable smack.

The kind of kiss that would’ve been cute—if it weren’t for the fact that I was very much on camera, in a professional setting, with a dozen or so people watching.

“LEWIS,” I whisper-yelled, my eyes wide with horror as I frantically glanced at my screen.

Sure, my mic was muted, but my camera definitely wasn’t.

There, staring back at me, was a grid of stunned, amused faces, watching the world’s most casual Zoom crash unfold before their eyes.

Great, this was really happening.

I held up a hand to the screen, as if that would somehow undo what just occurred.

“Uh… sorry, everyone,” I said, my voice coming out more flustered than I intended. “Apparently, I’ve been home for an hour and, uh… neglected someone.”

Yeah, I was never living this down.

That’s when I noticed it—half the people on the call were starstruck. Eyes wide, jaws dropped, as if Lewis Hamilton walking into my study had somehow shattered the laws of the universe.

It got better and better.

Apparently, some of them hadn’t put two and two together that my Lewis Hamilton was the multiple world champion of F1, Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis, still completely oblivious to the chaos he’d caused, blinked at the screen and it took him a second—an agonizingly long second—before he finally seemed to register the fact that we had an audience.

“Oh,” he said, blinking again. “Uh… Hi, everyone.”

The laughter was immediate. My entire screen lit up with amused faces, and I could feel the heat rising in my neck.

I wanted to crawl under the desk and hide forever, but Lewis? He just stood there, completely unbothered, one arm casually draped over my shoulder like this was all part of the plan.

One of my colleagues cleared their throat, clearly trying - and failing - to hold back laughter.

“You know, Y/n,” one of them said, smirking, “if you ever need to end a meeting early, just invite Lewis.”

The rest of the group erupted in laughter again, and I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

Real funny, dude. Hilarious.

I noticed some of the newer faces on the call still looking at Lewis like they couldn’t believe their eyes. A few of them nudging each other in the chat, their messages popping up on the side of my screen.

“Wait… is that Lewis Hamilton?” one person wrote, followed by another typing, “How did I not know she’s dating him?!” and a string of heart-eye emojis.

Great. Just what I needed. Let’s add a little office gossip into the mix while we’re at it.

Lewis squeezed my shoulder, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of my head. As if I wasn’t already mortified enough, I thought.

I shot him a look, my eyes narrowing into a silent warning. Don’t push your luck, Hamilton.

But all he did was smirk back, leaning in closer, like he was about to kiss me again.

“I swear to God,” I muttered under my breath

“I missed you” he whispered back, the teasing lilt in his voice making it impossible for me to stay mad.

I glanced back at the screen, my colleagues still chuckling amongst themselves. Okay, that was definitely the universe telling me to call it a day.

Clearing my throat, I forced a smile and addressed the group. “Right,” I said, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “I think we’ve covered everything, haven’t we?”

A few of them nodded a little too eagerly, clearly ready to wrap things up.

“Yeah,” someone chimed in, “we’ll, uh, let you get back to your important duties.”

The laughter returned, and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes again.

With one final, hasty goodbye, I clicked out of the meeting and slammed my laptop shut with a little more force than necessary.

“You realize what you’ve done, right?” I said, turning to Lewis, who was now looking far too pleased with himself.

He grinned, that signature, disarming smile. “Fixed your day?” he said, pulling me into his arms with ease.

I let out a long, dramatic sigh but didn’t resist when he wrapped his arms around me. “Fixed it, huh?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Meeting’s over, and now I get my cuddles.”

This man… I swear.

I thought, though I couldn’t help but smile as I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re lucky you’re hot” I mumbled into his chest; my voice muffled by the fabric of his still sweaty shirt.

He chuckled, his hand gently stroking my back. “Lucky, huh?”

“Very” I whispered, closing my eyes and letting myself melt into the warmth of his embrace.

Because, truth be told, as much as Lewis drove me absolutely insane, he was still the one person I couldn’t imagine my life without.

And yeah, maybe I’d never live down the fact that he’d barged into my meeting demanding kisses, but honestly?

Right now, I didn’t really mind all that much.

______________________________________________________________

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[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

divider by: @/floriseu

[heich0e]

rintarou's sheets are scratchy.

they're new, and haven't yet gone through the wash enough times to properly soften. they haven't been slept on enough times to be fully broken in. you know he bought them because you always used to tease him about his old sheets: faded with some holes in them—a mismatched fitted sheet and top sheet in two different shades of blue, unbefitting of a grown man making grown man money.

so, he got new ones.

these new sheets are green, in the exact shade you like so much—the one you always point out when the two of you are walking in the park near your office on your lunch break. he sent you a picture of the package when he got them home, fishing for praise you refused to give him for doing the bare minimum. they're nice sheets, though. expensive, organic cotton with a high thread count.

but right now, they're scratchy.

and they're irritating you as you lay tangled up in them, the top sheet wrapped around your waist like a belt and twisted around one of your bare legs. you must have been tossing and turning a lot in your sleep, because when you properly rouse from your slumber to take inventory of your surroundings, the first thing you notice is that you're practically knotted into the stiff, new cotton.

you extract yourself from the blankets, stumbling a little towards the door in a fog, and make your way from rintarou's bedroom in the direction of the kitchen.

"oh," rintarou perks up once you appear around the corner, his eyes bright when they spot you. "you're up."

you shuffle around the kitchen counter towards him, your head heavy and pounding, your mouth dry. you feel nauseated, and without thinking, you slump against him with your forehead pressing into the valley between his shoulder blades. you're confused. you're hungover. but he's warm, and smells like laundry detergent. suddenly you feel a little less queasy.

"what's going on?" you grumble into his back. you peel yourself away from him, blinking slowly, and sweep your gaze around the room to get a better sense of things.

suna holds up a frying pan and a whisk. "i'm cooking!"

you blink again. "okay?"

it's not what you meant when you asked him your first question, but rintarou simply smiles. he has an almost puppy-like personality when he gets like this—you can almost picture ears atop his head and a tail wagging happily as he stares down at you.

"how'd i get here last night?"

rintarou freezes, but only for a moment. he quickly turns his back to you again to continue on whatever misguided culinary adventure he'd been attempting before you woke up. "you were pretty drunk."

"my seniors kept egging me on," you complain, rubbing your forehead as the hazy memory surfaces from the night before. it was a company dinner you couldn't get out of, and it had quickly spiralled out of hand. "i don't even remember leaving."

rintarou laughs a little. but he still won't look at you.

"suna."

he doesn't turn, whisking something you can't identify but that you're almost certain should not be whisked in a bowl in front of him on the counter.

"suna." you repeat yourself again.

suddenly, a wave of nausea overtakes you.

no.

no.

you pat yourself down in search of your phone, but the attempt is useless. you're dressed in one of rintarou's t-shirts and boxers, neither of which come equipped with any pockets, and your phone is nowhere to be found. you whip your head around in search of it, but don't spot it anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

"hey—" rintarou finally looks at you when he senses your alarm, and his tone mirrors your own panic. "don't—!"

you swipe his cellphone off the counter in front of him, using the passcode you'd managed to weasel out of him a few months ago to unlock the device and navigate to his call log. you take off running as you tap your way through the various screens on his phone, but he's quickly in pursuit of you—leaving whatever he'd had on the stove to burn like he world's saddest funeral pyre.

"stop, stop!" rintarou is faster than you are, and has longer legs, but even by the time he catches you, you've already found what you're looking for in his call history. he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his sofa with him in the living room, and the two of you land in a tangle of limbs against the cushions, your breathing laboured.

"i didn't make this call, did i?" you ask meekly, pointing at a brief call in the late hours of the night prior that sits at the top of his call history. it's from your number, but you're confident you hadn't been the one to dial.

rintarou pouts a little bit, avoiding your eyes. after a moment he shakes his head. you groan, rolling over on the sofa underneath him and hiding your face in your hands.

"i wasn't even there long, i promise," rintarou says, his voice impossibly close because of the way the two of you are sprawled across the sofa. his breath is warm against the column of your throat when he speaks.

you refuse to look at him.

"i didn't even say anything embarassing."

you still don't budge.

"i made sure to thank your coworkers for calling me to come get you and everything."

your hangover has been overtaken by your own mortification, a horrible heat creeping up your face to accompany the taste of bile in your throat. you've been so, so careful not to let your relationship and your career overlap thus far. so cautious about introducing rintarou into parts of your life that would make it even harder to face if or when the time came that he wasn't around anymore.

"are you embarrassed of me?"

his question makes your chest ache. the way he says it twists the knife.

you lift your face from your hands and peek at him over your shoulder. he's so close that your noses almost brush.

"no." you mean it.

the anxiety in rintarou's gaze eases. he presses closer.

"you sure?"

you narrow your eyes at him. "depends. were you wearing that awful yellow track suit?"

rintarou laughs, all breath, and then dips down to kiss you softly. you want to complain that you haven't even brushed your teeth yet, or that you kind of feel like you might be sick, or that whatever he was trying to cook is on the brink of burning down the building. but you don't. you just let him rest on top of you. you let yourself enjoy it.

when he finally pulls away, rintarou has a somewhat sly smile on his face.

"what, rin?" you ask him gently.

"just wondering if now that i've met your coworkers you're going to let me come visit you at lunch, or if you're still gonna make me hide in the park."

"i like the park," you pout.

because the park is green, the colour you like so much. like rintarou's scratchy bedsheets. and his eyes.

"okay, okay," he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. "i like the park, too."

[earlysunshines]

we'll be alright, please try again

kim minji x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: you and minji break it off, both emotionally and physically, each pushing the other away. but the universe has other plans, bringing you two back to square one as if you were always meant to find your way back to one another.

warnings: sixth member!reader ; arguing ; pining ; reader is canadian for the plot but it's not even that important it's just for a silly tims joke and smth more ; ugh they're so in love get away ; angsty but super fluffy + heavy pining ; a lot in one ; iffy pacing imo ; have fun with this one i rly liked writing this ; wtv else i didnt mention

a/n: guys PLEAAASSSE don’t be scared of the hook and angst tag PLSGIYS i swear it’s sweet… i swear. i was smiling throughout don’t be scared… it’s not THAT bad ANYWAYS i want timmy's so bad rn... un cafe infuse froid a la vanille si vous PLAAAIIT someone send me timbits asap

“i think we should break up.”

minji’s head snaps toward you, eyes wide, an exasperated “what?” escaping her lips.

confusion flashes across her face, and for good reason. everything has been good between you two, really good—no fighting, no tension, just the usual hustle of practice and training. you’ve both always found a way to make it work, to balance everything. so why now? why are you saying this?

you can’t bring yourself to meet her gaze, your eyes focused on some spot on the floor instead, teeth worrying your bottom lip.

“we’re both training so hard,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think we should focus on that for now.”

“but… everything is fine,” she says, a pleading note in her voice. “i don’t get it…”

truth is, you don’t want this—not at all. the idea of breaking up with her makes your chest tighten painfully. but things have gotten tougher lately, the rules stricter, your company’s expectations weighing heavily on you. being with minji would only make things harder down the line, for her and for you. you’d never want to hold her back—not her, not the person you love more than anything.

“i think it’s best for us,” you repeat, though your voice lacks conviction.

minji’s brows knit together, her eyes searching your face. “why do you get to decide this?” she argues, her voice rising slightly. “let’s just… talk it out. we can work through this, can’t we? we always work it out.”

you’ve only been together a few months, but they’ve been some of the best months of your life—of her life too, you know that. both of you are still figuring things out, still finding yourselves in the midst of all this chaos. hell, neither of you are legal adults yet, both being sixteen and clueless. but it’s minji who made you realize you’d never feel this way for anyone else, certainly not a man. she was the first girl who gave you butterflies just by smiling at you, the first whose hand you held with a racing heart, the first whose cheek you kissed, feeling your face flush with warmth.

and there’s that one memory, a core memory that replays in your mind like a favorite song—you can still feel her hands gently holding your face, the way her eyes sparkled with something pure, something deep, right before she leaned in and kissed you. your first kiss, your first everything. she’s your first love, and the thought of letting that go feels like tearing out a piece of yourself. 

tearing yourself away from her would be better for her anyway, that’s what your company insisted anyway.

“please,” minji whispers, and there’s a crack in her voice that breaks you all over again. “don’t do this.”

you swallow hard, your resolve wavering. your chest feels heavy, like you’re carrying a weight you can’t bear. but you press your lips together, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her into your arms, where she belongs.

“it’s… it’s better this way,” you say, even as everything inside you screams the opposite.

minji shakes her head slowly, a tear slipping down her cheek. “it’s not,” she insists, voice breaking. “it’s not better… not for me.”

and you know, deep down, it’s not better for you either.

“minji,” you begin, voice faltering. 

“don’t minji me,” she snaps, eyes fierce and determined. “we’re not breaking up.”

“we have to, don’t you get it?” your voice breaks, tears welling up as you stand in front of the entrance to her dorm, the one she always complained about, the one you’ve come to know so well. “how will we ever debut if we have these worries and burdens in the back of our minds?”

minji pauses, her features softening, but her gaze remains fixed on you. “you think i’m a burden?”

“n-no! no, minji, no.” you shake your head quickly, regretting your words the second they leave your mouth. “it’s not like that… my company’s been on my back, pushing me harder, and they might move me to another one. god, i feel like a pawn in chess or something. look, it’s just… it’s best we focus on our own paths right now.”

minji’s eyes search yours, hurt etched across her face. “we’ve always made time for each other before. what’s different this time? y/n, i love you.”

“we’re sixteen, minji,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “we’re young and… and stupid, and nothing in the future is promised.”

“well, i want you in mine. i would do anything to make sure you’re there in mine, anything.” she insists, her voice trembling, “even if you debut and i don’t, or the other way around—i want you there. i want you there always.” she steps closer, her hands coming up to rest on your shoulders, her touch warm and steady, even as your own resolve begins to crumble. 

her words make your neck tense, your lip quiver. you feel the tears spill over, hot against your skin. minji moves one hand to your cheek, her thumb brushing away the tears, her gaze softening as she whispers, “i love you. i love you when i’m exhausted from practice, i love you when i’m stressed over exams, i love you when we only have a few minutes together… i love you every moment of every day. i can’t… i can’t let you go.”

you shake your head, your breath coming out in short, uneven gasps as you pull away from her touch. minji’s brows knit together, her eyes filled with concern as she watches you crumble, sees you bury your face in your hands. you take a shaky breath, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

“i’m sorry, minji,” you choke out, your voice heavy with emotion. “i love you, but we can’t… we can’t do this. i don’t want to talk about it anymore. you don’t need me in your life. i—” your breath hitches, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. you wonder if it’s worth it, if sacrificing what you have with her is really the way to achieve your dreams. “i don’t need you in mine right now,” you finish, your voice cracking, every word cutting through you. “we should focus on our own things.”

minji stares at you, her eyes searching yours, her heart breaking, the words slowly sinking in. a tear slips down her cheek, and she doesn’t bother to wipe it away.

you take a step back, your vision blurred with tears. “i’m sorry, minji… i’m doing this for us—for you.”

you turn away, your chest tight, and as you walk away, the sound of minji’s quiet sobs echoes in your ears, each one tearing at your heart a little more. but you don’t look back. you can’t. not now, not when every step away from her feels like losing a part of yourself.

—

it’s been a year. one long, agonizing year since you last spoke to minji. a year spent fighting the urge to look through the hidden folder on your phone filled with photos of the two of you, each image a reminder of what you lost. you’ve stopped crying every night—first every week, then every month. but the guilt, the sorrow of losing her, the love of your life, still clings to you like a shadow.

you’ve thrown yourself into training, harder than ever. it stopped being about debuting a long time ago; now it’s just a distraction, a way to drown out the ache that never seems to fade. but was it worth it, listening to the company, if the will to keep going feels like it’s slipping through your fingers?

then, one day, they pull you aside. your company tells you you’re being relocated, moved to another company that’s shown interest in you, in your potential. they say you might debut sooner. it sounds like everything you should want, so you agree, packing your bags and letting them shuttle you off to the new dorms, even if a part of you feels numb, disconnected.

when you arrive at the new building, something about it feels familiar. the hallway, the scent in the air, the way the light filters through the windows—it all makes your heart thud in your chest, unease curling in your stomach. memories you tried so hard to bury start to bubble up.

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts, and push open the door to your new room. it’s… not much. the walls look a little worn, there’s a fine layer of dust on the shelves, and it’s small—cramped, really. not surprising. you’re still a trainee, after all. you didn’t expect luxury.

inside, two girls turn to look at you, surprised by your sudden entrance. one is shorter, with wavy hair and a bright, warm smile, the other taller and younger-looking, with a curious expression. you manage a small, polite smile in return. 

“hi, they sent me to source–”

“you must be y/n?” the girl with wavy hair interrupts, tilting her head slightly, studying you with interest as you shut the door behind you. “i’m danielle, nice to meet you.” her voice is friendly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“hi, nice to meet you too.” you reply, noticing the slight arch of her brows. your korean is decent, but the accent still lingers, evident enough to catch attention. 

“i’m hyein,” the younger girl chimes in, a grin spreading across her face. “are you from here?”

“n-no, i’m not,” you stammer, a little caught off guard. “you could tell from my accent, huh? i’m still working on my korean. i’m fluent in english though.”

hyein glances at danielle, then back to you. she points at danielle and adds, “danielle speaks english too.”

“you do?” you ask, turning to danielle. she nods.

“yeah,” danielle says, switching to english with an easy smile. “it’s nice to have another english speaker around. two of the other trainees speak it pretty well too.” her accent is thick, australian, and it’s like a tiny piece of familiarity amidst all the change.

a small relief floods through you, just enough to calm the nerves that have been knotting your stomach all day. “oh, that’s… that’s good to know,” you say, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah,” danielle agrees, and for the first time since you arrived, you feel like maybe, just maybe, this new start won’t be as hard as you thought.

they both help you settle in, and soon you find yourself sharing a bed with hyein. it’s cramped, barely enough space for two, but it’s better than nothing. you’re grateful for their kindness. both of them seem so genuinely sweet, and you quickly learn that danielle is only a year younger than you, while hyein is much younger. she’s practically a child, literally a child, you feel a protective instinct kick in immediately. there’s a sincerity in her wide-eyed curiosity, an innocence that makes you want to look out for her, to make sure nothing ever limits her spirit.

danielle, on the other hand, is a ball of sunshine—radiating warmth and energy that makes the room feel brighter. she’s constantly smiling, her laughter infectious, and even though there’s a hint of tiredness in the way she moves, a slight slump to her shoulders, she’s still so full of life. she talks a lot, her voice light and cheerful as she shoots question after question while getting to know you. it’s hard not to be eased by her easygoing charm. 

as the night wears on, they do their best to lift your spirits, sensing the nerves that still linger just beneath the surface. danielle makes a few silly jokes that make you smile despite yourself, and hyein tries to comfort you with small gestures—a reassuring pat on the arm, a soft-spoken “it’s okay, you’ll get used to it. they must’ve relocated you for a reason!” they can tell you’ve been thrown into this new situation without much warning, and they’re doing their best to make you feel welcome. 

you feel a strange mixture of fear and hope—this whole thing is still so new, so uncertain. it’s unsettling to be here, to have been displaced so suddenly, but at least your new roommates are wonderful. they’re different from the people at your old company, where the atmosphere had been tense, filled with a kind of hostility that always made you feel on edge. here, there’s warmth, a sense of camaraderie you haven’t felt in a long time.

you wonder if this company will be any different. you hope it doesn’t end up ripping you apart like the last one, but for now, you find comfort in the gentle smiles and kind words of danielle and hyein. they make this unfamiliar place feel a little less lonely, a little less scary, and for tonight, that’s enough.

—

danielle shakes you and hyein awake at the crack of dawn, urging you both to get ready for training. it’s a normal routine for them, but for you, it’s the start of something new. you rush through your morning routine—skincare, a light layer of makeup, and clothes you hope are suitable for dancing. you quickly follow the two out, trailing behind as they lead you down a path toward another building, one that you assume is where all the training happens.

inside, they guide you through the hallways until you reach a room. danielle opens the door, and you’re greeted by an empty dance studio. hyein lights up at the sight, a wide grin spreading across her face. “we have some time to warm up before the other three get here,” she says, already jogging inside.

danielle steps in next, and you follow, trying to push down the nerves fluttering in your stomach. you all sit on the floor, stretching your legs, trying to loosen up and prepare for what you know will be hours of hard work. you focus on improving your flexibility, feeling the slight burn in your muscles as you push yourself further. ten minutes pass, and just as you start to feel a little more at ease, there’s a knock at the door.

the three of you turn your heads in unison, watching as the door creaks open and a girl shuffles in, rubbing her eyes like she just woke up. behind her, two more girls enter—the first is a shorter girl who yawns deeply with each step she takes, but the second girl… your heart stops dead in your chest.

kim minji.

kim fucking minji.

she catches your gaze, and both of you freeze. time seems to halt, your eyes locking onto each other in shock. minji looks just as stunned as you feel, her expression mirroring the disbelief you know is written all over your face. you can’t breathe, can’t think—your mind is spinning, and your heart feels like it’s dropped to your stomach.

before you can fully process what’s happening, a voice from the other side of the room snaps you back to reality. “you’re the new girl? nice to meet you! i’m hanni,” the shorter girl says, approaching with a friendly smile.

you force yourself to tear your eyes away from minji, swallowing hard before managing a polite smile in return. “nice to meet you, i’m y/n.”

minji, on the other hand, feels like she’s caught in a dream—or maybe a nightmare. you’re standing right there, in front of her, looking just as beautiful as you did the last time she saw you, minus the tears streaming down your face. she thought she had done pretty well moving on, pushing you aside so far in her mind so that she only thinks of you when she’s not bombarded with coursework or training—so rarely. she can’t move, can’t speak, not until danielle calls her over, breaking her from her trance. she takes a shaky breath and forces herself to join the group, her mind still reeling.

the room feels charged with tension, both of you stealing glances when you think the other isn’t looking, neither daring to say a word. it’s a strange, painful coincidence, running into each other like this. it’s almost as if cupid is playing a cruel joke, aiming to tear your heart to pieces rather than make it flutter.

and the worst part is, you just have to push on with practice like there’s no history between you two. like you don’t have memories stored up in your mind of her laugh, the way her hand fit in yours, or the way she looked at you like you were the only person in the world. both of you are still so young, but you know better than to let your feelings get in the way—not when debuting is on the line.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you introduce yourself to everyone again, making sure to keep your eyes anywhere but on minji. your voice is calm, your smile practiced, and you do your best to pretend that she isn’t standing just a few feet away, close enough for you to hear her breath hitch, close enough that you can almost feel the weight of her stare. 

the room is filled with conversation as the girls introduce themselves back, one by one. you nod, exchange pleasantries, but every word feels heavy, like you’re walking on a tightrope above a pit of old memories and unspoken feelings. you focus on the faces in front of you, the ones you haven’t seen before, trying to absorb their names and voices — hanni, haerin, danielle, hyein, and… — anything to distract from the familiar face you know too well.

then, practice begins, and you force yourself to concentrate on learning the choreography, to commit every move to memory. the beats of the music fill the room, and you step in time, trying to mirror danielle and hanni’s movements. you stretch your arms, pivot your feet, focus on your control, and move across the floor, pretending that your ex-love-of-your-life isn’t right there, just a few steps away. 

you try not to notice minji’s presence, the way her hair falls across her face when she turns, or the way she bites her lip when she’s trying to focus. you do everything you can to ignore the quickening of your heart whenever you hear her voice, sharp and clear, giving feedback to the others. you push down the memories that threaten to surface, the images of stolen kisses and whispered secrets, forcing yourself to focus on the rhythm, the steps, and the music.

but it’s hard to pretend when every glance feels loaded, every second that passes feels like an eternity. you know you’re here for a reason, to work hard, to debut, to make something of yourself, and you can’t let old feelings get in the way of that—not now, not ever. still, as you dance, you feel a pang of something deep in your chest, a longing that no amount of practice can seem to shake. not this time.

—

another year goes by, a year of slowly building bonds with the other girls and learning how to navigate around minji’s presence. the two of you have grown, mature enough to look each other in the eye, exchange a few words when necessary, but never more than that. neither of you dare to willingly interact beyond what's required.

an unspoken agreement hangs between you both: act alright in front of the others, get along enough to avoid raising questions, and move on. it’s all you can do. three hundred and sixty-five days pass, and in that time, you begin to notice more about minji, the side of her that never wavered, the side that’s still so caring towards everyone around her. 

you see her helping hanni with her korean, keeping hyein motivated with endless praises, complimenting danielle on her improvements, and reassuring haerin when worries weigh on her. minji’s always been the caring type, that never changed. neither did her pretty, gummy smile, her soft eyes, the way her eyebrows furrow in concentration—everything about her that once made your heart skip a beat still lingers, still draws your attention.

it stings, realizing your feelings haven’t faded. they’re still there, buried beneath the surface, and you know they’ll remain, how could they not? it’s kim minji you’re dealing with. if you debut together, those feelings will continue to simmer, but you push them down, suppress them, because you’re the one who created the distance between you two. the tension is your fault, and you have to deal with your mistakes.

minji tries not to break, not when she sees you laughing and being carefree with the others, yet stiff and distant around her. she knows she should be angry, and she is, but not enough to hate you. you’re both just young, chasing your dreams, and if that means leaving her behind, minji will accept it. as long as you’re happy, she can let go, because no matter what, she’ll always care about you, always love you in her own quiet way.

her feelings haven’t faded either, and sometimes it shows—when you’re with the others, bringing laughter and light into the room, she remembers the way you once brought that same warmth into her life. but staying stuck in the past won’t help her, and minji knows that. she allows herself a few glances, lets her gaze linger on you when she thinks no one’s looking, before pulling herself back to reality.

there’s always that unspoken tension in the air, the weight of words never said, the feelings both of you try so hard to bury. but somehow, you manage to keep going. you get by, coexisting in the same space, neither of you willing to confront the past, but not quite able to forget it either.

—

two days until debut, and the excitement is electric.

all six of you are buzzing, nerves mixed with joy. after years of grinding, sleepless nights, and moments where the dream seemed too far, you're almost there—right on the cusp of what you've always wanted. the final practice for "attention" wraps up, and you gather in a circle, sharing words of encouragement. the rehearsal went better than any of you could have hoped for, and the anticipation of seeing the music video reactions and stepping on stage for the first time is almost too much to handle.

the energy in the room shifts once practice is over, everyone easing into a more relaxed state. danielle is sprawled out on the floor, leaning against hanni, who's leaning on hyein. haerin sits by the mirror, legs crossed, lost in her thoughts. minji, meanwhile, stands near the mirror on the other side of the room, hands on her hips, staring at her reflection. you're in the center of the room, watching her without even realizing it, your eyes tracing the curve of her back before you finally gather the nerve to approach her.

you tap her shoulder twice, and she turns around, surprise flickering across her face. "y/n?" she says softly.

"hey..." you respond, suddenly shy, your eyes flickering from her chin to her collarbone, avoiding direct eye contact. "can we talk?"

minji hesitates, glancing around the room before nodding. "alright."

you lead her out of the practice room, both of you offering quick excuses as you slip away. the walk down the hallway is quiet, the silence heavy between you. minji waits for you to say something, but you can't seem to find the words until you reach a small window in front of a couch and potted plant. the light streaming in casts a soft glow over the space, and you take a deep breath.

“we’re debuting soon,” you say, the words awkward as they leave your mouth.

“yeah,” she breathes, her gaze following yours out the window.

“it’s been my— our dream for so long,” you continue, voice quiet. “i know things have been... rough between us. and that’s on me. i wanted to apologize.”

you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her eyes, even if just for a moment. “from here on out, i want to mend things between us.”

minji’s eyes widen, and you can see the surprise written all over her face. you can tell she’s about to say something, but you press on before she can interrupt.

“i’m not asking for us to go back to how things were, i know that’s wrong of me to ask, considering i… yeah.” you clarify, gulping and trying to supress a faint blush. “but i want us to be members, to get along. eventually, maybe even friends again. i just want to fix things—at least a little. i know our past was complicated, but if we’re going to debut together, i want there to be less tension. more of... a broken bridge than no bridge at all, you know?”

your words hang in the air, and minji is silent for a few moments, processing. she looks at you with an expression you can’t quite place, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said too much. then she speaks, her voice quiet, almost fragile.

“okay,” she says, the word barely escaping her throat. “i want that too.”

relief washes over you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. a small smile tugs at your lips. “i’m glad. i hope we can talk more, catch up... maybe do something normal again.”

“something normal,” minji echoes, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, but she smiles. it’s a soft, genuine smile, one that makes your heart clench a little.

the two of you stand there, the silence between you now comfortable, not heavy like before. for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re seeing her—really seeing her. minji’s changed. she’s more mature, more thoughtful in her actions, her words. there’s a quiet authority about her now, especially as the eldest. the others look up to her, and honestly, so do you. hell, you’ve always looked up to her. she’s become even more beautiful, the soft evening light highlighting her features, giving her this glow that makes it hard to look at her for too long without feeling something stir inside you.

minji, on the other hand, is taking you in as well, a quiet smile on her lips as she does. there’s something almost poetic about this moment—you two, standing here together, about to debut in the same group. just years ago you two had met by the river, built a friendship and more, then less. regardless of what would have happened to the two of you, you’d end up together again.

to think that there was a whole time where you were both in different buildings, different spaces, hoping the other would make it. now, you’re side by side, part of the same dream, somehow together again. both of you made it.

—

after your first debut stage, adrenaline courses through your veins as the six of you rush backstage, breathless and buzzing. the girls are squealing, jumping around, and you can’t help but grin at them. then, your eyes meet minji’s across the room. her smile is genuine, proud, and it softens something inside you. you mirror her expression, holding her gaze longer than you should, until danielle tackles you with a hug so tight you feel like your ribs might cave in.

“that was amazing!” danielle beams, pulling back just enough to see your face, her eyes sparkling. “i can’t believe we just did that.”

“i know, right?” you respond in english, your body finally beginning to relax. “i’m so... overwhelmed, but in the best way.”

“so many people were cheering for you.” danielle pokes your cheek playfully, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. “bet it was that wink you pulled off during your ending fairy.”

your face flushes instantly, and you push her away with a groan. “stop! i was nervous! i didn’t know what else to do…”

danielle’s laughter is contagious, and soon hanni joins in, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “smooth wink, miss l/n,” she teases. “you might end up with a lot of fangirls, more than guys i bet.”

you whine, trying to push them both away, before finding refuge by haerin, who’s spaced out in her own world. she blinks at you, a bit startled as you point over to danielle, hanni, and now hyein, who’s joined in, the trio replaying your ending fairy. they giggle like kids, mocking the way you winked and bit the inside of your lip. haerin just sighs in understanding, standing beside you like a silent bodyguard.

minji watches the whole scene unfold from a distance, a small smile tugging at her lips. there’s a warmth in her chest, seeing everyone so carefree and happy after all the hard work. she’s beyond glad that you all made it, that the dream finally came true.

(even if you’re not hers anymore, you’re happy, and that’s more than enough for her. minji is grateful just to know that.)

–

the next month flies by in a blur. your ep is out, there’s promotions, interviews, a few meetings, and just so much. despite the whirlwind, every feeling from every moment sticks with you, vivid and sharp.

each track from your ep gains massive popularity, spreading across the globe with people praising the group left and right. your debut isn’t just a debut—it’s the debut of the year, and suddenly, everyone’s talking about you. you’ve become the new “it” group, with people especially stunned by hyein’s talent at such a young age. the attention is surreal, but what shocks you the most is the way people are talking about you. everywhere you look, there are comments about your visuals, your voice, and the shy praise makes your cheeks burn.

(of course, hanni and danielle never miss the chance to tease you about your ending fairies blowing up online. each one garners thousands of views, and despite the attention, you cringe at every single one.)

but while you’re in the spotlight, so is minji. social media can’t get enough of her, with countless posts gushing over her visuals. people are stunned by how effortlessly beautiful she is, how her voice carries a certain warmth and depth. all the things you’ve always admired about her are now being praised by the world. her popularity is skyrocketing, and it’s no surprise to you. minji has always been stunning, both inside and out, and now everyone else is finally seeing what you’ve known all along.

it’s bittersweet; all the gushing over minji had been your little thing before you messed it all up.

—

minji sits with the rest of the girls in the dorm complex, a new one near hybe. it’s nicer, not as cramped as the old place, and even though she still shares a bed with haerin, she loves it. 

(it’s a queen sized bed instead of a full size, she’s not complaining at all.)

she’s grateful for everything, especially the upgrade from where they used to live. they’re all gathered for dinner, a celebratory meal after their debut, but as the minutes tick by, minji notices something off: you’re not there.

the rest of the girls don’t seem fazed, but minji is. she’s the oldest, the most observant, and it feels strange that a whole member is missing. she waits a few more minutes, but you still haven’t shown up.

“have any of you seen y/n?” minji asks, her voice calm but curious. “i don’t want us to eat without her. we’re a team—it doesn’t feel right.”

hanni tilts her head, looking a bit confused. “she didn’t tell you?”

“tell me what?” minji’s brows furrow slightly.

haerin chimes in. “she went out.”

“what?” minji stands up from the table, the unease settling in her stomach. 

“i told her to stay,” haerin continues, “but she kept saying ‘it’s okay’ and that she’d be back in an hour or something. she seemed pretty eager to get out.”

danielle shrugs, adding casually, “yeah, she told all of us. she didn’t mention it to you?”

minji shakes her head, feeling a small twist in her chest. “no, she didn’t.” the thought of you being out alone, especially during a meal this important, doesn’t sit right with her. you’d left your wallet in haerin’s bag—minji remembers seeing it out of the corner of her eye, a little gray wallet you always carried. she hadn’t thought much of it, assuming you’d all eat together like usual.

“she said she’s not hungry,” hyein chimes in. “she said she snacked too much earlier. don’t worry, she’ll be back.”

minji hesitates, still standing while the others pick up their bowls and begin eating. she knows you too well—you’re the type to lie if it meant sparing someone from worrying about you. and if you were really hungry but said otherwise, it just made her feel worse.

she sits back down but can’t shake the unease gnawing at her. she’s never eaten this fast before, practically gulping down the side dishes and wrapping lettuce around the grilled meat without much thought. she finishes her meal quickly, but it feels empty, and the food doesn’t settle well in her stomach.

after a few bites, she stands again, slipping on a light sweater. “i don’t want y/n to miss out on this food. it’s really good,” she says, her voice light, but her eyes are serious. “i’m going to go look for her, i’ll be back soon.”

before anyone can respond, she’s out the door. she walks quickly, her steps filled with purpose. she knows where you’ll be, and it’s not long before she’s headed to the place she’s almost certain you’ve gone to.

it’s a five-minute walk to the nearest bus stop, a three-minute wait, and a ten-minute bus ride to the area she’s thinking of. the city blurs by as she stares out the window, her thoughts racing. another few minutes pass as she speedwalks from the bus stop, her legs carrying her to the familiar bench by the river, the one with the view of the bridge that glows softly in the evening light.

she remembers the first time she met you here, how you both talked for hours, the breeze gently blowing through the trees. it’s quiet now, the water rippling softly under the dimming sky, and there you are, sitting alone on the bench, looking out at the water.

(“hi, is anyone sitting here?” minji asks, her voice lighter than it is now. 

she’s fifteen, fresh from a rare break in her training. she holds a small bag of honey chips in one hand and convenience store gimbap in the other—nowhere near as good as her mom’s, but enough to fill her up. her usual bench is taken, though, and she spots you sitting there. no big deal, she thinks, she’ll just sit on the other side.

you glance up, still chewing, and your eyes widen at the sight of her. “o-oh, no! here, sitting, um, no one. you can—uh—” you fumble for the words, trying to string them together. “alone, i am. with me, no one.”

minji smiles at you, easily picking up on your accent, the way you stumble through the grammar. a foreigner, she thinks. she gives you a thumbs up and takes a seat next to you, setting her bag of chips between the two of you.

you blink at her, caught off guard by how effortlessly she seems to glow. before you can say anything, she catches you staring, and offers you a chip. “want one?” she asks, holding the bag out.

“it’s okay, food, i have.” you respond, shaking your head, but she giggles softly.

“i have food,” minji gently corrects you, repeating the sentence with a small smile.

you mumble an embarrassed, “oh,” before adding shyly, “yeah, i have food.”

“your korean is really good,” minji compliments you, her tone warm. “it’s just your grammar and formality. but it’s not a big deal if we’re the same age. how old are you?”

you pause, taking a second to process her words, then respond, “fifteen. i’m fifteen.”

minji’s face lights up, her eyes crinkling with her bright smile, and you find yourself mirroring her expression. “me too!”

“really?” you say in english, then quickly switch back, clearing your throat. “really?”

minji nods, understanding your little slip, and switches to english herself. “you speak english?”

your eyes widen slightly in relief. “you speak english too?”

“i learned some here in korea,” she explains, her voice soothing and calm. “i also studied in canada for a while.”

“no way! i’m from canada.” 

“really?” minji’s eyes sparkle with interest.

“yeah,” you grin, glancing out at the bridge in front of you, the soft glow of the evening lights reflecting off the water. “i’d kill for some timbits right now… i wish korea had them.”

“i get that, they were my favorites when i studied there. cheap and good.” minji chuckles softly before asking, “why are you in korea? are you studying abroad?”

your smile falters for a second, and you hesitate before answering. “well, i want to be an idol. it’s… kind of stupid. i came here alone after making it through the audition and getting scouted, but i barely know the language. i just really want to be an idol—it’s my dream.”

“it’s not stupid at all.” minji leans in a little closer, her eyes locking on yours, the sincerity in her gaze catching you off guard. “i want to be one too. i’m a trainee.”

“really?” your surprise is evident in your voice. “that makes two of us.”

“i guess it does,” minji agrees, holding the bag of chips out to you again. “i’m minji, kim minji.”

“that’s a nice name,” you say, accepting the chip this time, plopping it into your mouth. “i’m y/n, l/n y/n.”

minji grins, her eyes soft as she says, “even nicer name.” the compliment catches you off guard, and you can’t help but giggle at her words.)

you notice someone sit down next to you, catching minji’s presence in your peripheral. her voice, now deeper and more grounded than that first time you met her, cuts through the silence.

“i hope this seat isn’t taken.”

your muscles relax as you scoot over to make room for her. “it’s not.” you keep your eyes on her as she settles in beside you, looking out at the familiar view. the glasses perched on her nose somehow make her even more striking, drawing out the natural allure she’s always had. you can’t help but let your gaze linger on her profile, tracing the soft lines of her face. 

before you lose yourself entirely, she breaks the silence. “you weren’t at dinner.”

“i wasn’t hungry.” you lie easily, turning back to the bridge.

minji gives you a side glance, clearly unconvinced. “right.”

“i just needed some space.” the truth slips out this time, your voice quieter. you can feel her gaze shift, now fixed on you. “how did you know i’d be here?” you ask, still staring ahead, avoiding her eyes.

“some things don’t change, y/n.” she says simply, leaning back into the bench. “i had a hunch.”

you stay quiet, the wind brushing past you both. the bench holds too much history for either of you to ignore. the same spot, years later.

(“you’re here again.” it had only been a week since your first meeting. minji had found you on the bench at nine at night, munching on fruit snacks. “thinking of timbits?”

you laughed, patting the seat next to you. “maybe.”

minji smiled as she sat down, and you handed her a piece of dried fruit without a second thought. “was it a coincidence that we ran into each other again?” she asked, sounding curious.

“maybe i’m just lucky,” you said playfully, “lucky to have run into you again.”

“lucky to run into me?” she raised an eyebrow.

“you’re the only person i can talk to like this,” you admitted. “i was hoping i’d see you again, kim minji.”

“i was kind of hoping the same, l/n y/n.”

“is that so?” you grinned, scooting closer. 

“maybe.”

the two of you spent the next hour talking, shoulders nearly touching, laughter filling the space between you. the fruit snacks were long gone, but you stayed, sharing stories about trainee life and the little struggles of the week. it felt easy, natural, like you’d known each other for years.

when your phone buzzed with a notification, your face fell, and minji’s mirrored yours.

“you have to go?” her voice held a tinge of disappointment.

“yeah,” you sighed, “but let’s meet again, okay? can i get your kakao?”

“of course!” minji had jumped at the chance, quickly giving you her contact. “can we meet again next week? i’m happy i’ve made a friend like you.”

“me too,” you had said softly, “you’re like a savior. my korean is so bad…”

“i’ll help you with that,” she’d laughed, “but our time is limited.”

you hugged her then, surprising her with the closeness. she caught the faint scent of lavender on you and hesitated for only a moment before hugging you back tightly. you mumbled a quiet “thanks,” your lips brushing against her hair near her ear, making her shiver slightly.

“for what?” she had asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“doesn’t matter.”)

you feel minji looking at you now, and in the corner of your eye, you see her scoot a little closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. it’s subtle, but the warmth from years ago flickers to life again in your chest.

“your korean is really good now,” she says after a pause, her voice soft. “especially since the first time we met.”

“i’d hope so, after three years.” you smile to yourself, trying to lighten the moment.

minji doesn’t laugh, though. instead, she turns to face you, her expression unreadable. “i was worried, you know?” she says quietly. “why did you tell everyone but me that you were leaving?”

you turn to meet her gaze, lips parting as you exhale softly. her eyes are as warm and familiar as ever. “i knew you’d make me go back inside.”

“i wouldn’t.”

“yes, you would.”

“i’d just go outside with you, y/n.”

her words settle between you, and you feel the weight of them in your chest. she’s always been too kind, too caring, even more now than when you first met. she’s still minji, but somehow better, different in ways that make you feel like you’re stuck in place, the same selfish version of yourself.

“oh.”

there’s no warning when your eyes start to sting, a subtle burn building until you feel the tears pooling. you turn away quickly, hoping to hide it before it gets worse.

“do you hate me?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, but shaky enough to betray you. “i wouldn’t blame you.”

minji’s brows furrow. “do i what?”

“hate me.” 

she pauses, studying you closely. her eyes trace the way your hands fidget restlessly in your lap—something she’s seen you do countless times before. you’ve always done it when you were anxious, whether it was before a monthly evaluation, or when you had something on your mind that you wouldn’t share with her. she notices how your teeth press into your lower lip, your foot bouncing slightly, a nervous habit she’s memorized over the years.

“y/n,” she says softly, scooting even closer until her side presses into yours. her arm wraps around your shoulders, gently pulling you into her. she holds you like she always has, her thumb brushing lightly over your arm in slow, comforting strokes. “i could never hate you.”

“i dumped you without a word,” you mutter bitterly, the words heavy on your tongue. “and then i got moved to your company, and you had to act like you were fine with me being there.”

minji stays quiet, letting you continue.

“you don’t have to pretend. i know i made it hard for you.”

“i’m not pretending,” she says, turning to look at you again. “you debuted, y/n, and that’s all i ever wanted for you. it’s your dream. you gave up so much to make it happen.” her voice softens even more, her gaze steady on you. “all i have is admiration for you. even if we’re… not together anymore, all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

her words only make the tears spill faster, flowing freely down your cheeks as you tremble beside her. the warmth of her touch is familiar, and it brings back memories of when you were sixteen, when she’d comfort you in moments just like this, when everything felt overwhelming.

“minji, i’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking with the weight of it all.

“it’s okay,” she whispers, her hand still rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder.

you hate how vulnerable you feel, especially in front of her. you’ve held it together for so long, keeping your emotions locked down since the breakup, since the whirlwind of your debut. but now, sitting here next to her, it feels impossible to keep pretending. the tears keep coming, and you sniffle quietly, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand.

even though her arm is still around you, and part of you craves that comfort, you can’t help but feel like you don’t deserve it. the guilt presses down on you, and you gently take her hand, holding it for a brief moment to savor the warmth before carefully removing her arm from around your shoulders. you don’t meet her gaze as you do it, but minji seems to understand, not saying a word.

“you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” she asks after a beat, her voice still soft but with a hint of concern.

“i’m not that hungry,” you reply, forcing yourself to focus on anything but the heaviness in your chest.

“not even for gummy snacks?” she teases, tilting her head slightly as she watches you.

her playful tone pulls a small smile from your lips. “maybe for those…”

—

the next few months go quite normally, though it took you a bit to fully open up to minji.

you're timid and reserved, but there’s a new warmth in the way you interact with minji. the tension that kept you two apart starts to fade during the activities that come with your debut. livestreams, music video shoots, and photoshoots become regular parts of your routine, each one pulling you and minji closer.

during livestreams, you and minji share laughter, trading playful jabs as you engage with the fans. the cameras capture genuine smiles that hint at the friendship creeping up to the surface. music video filming offers another chance for you two to joke around, using humor to ease the nerves that come with performing in front of the crew. 

you find comfort in those moments, the way your shoulders brush together as you wait. a cozy blanket drapes over the two of you, forcing you into close proximity. in those quiet moments, laughter spills from your lips, light and infectious, often unnoticed by the cameras. the bond between you deepens as you exchange jokes, the sound of your shared amusement weaving a thread of connection that feels both familiar and new.

photoshoots also lead to accidental closeness. whether it’s posing back-to-back or sharing a prop—or something much more heart-racing like minji putting her arm around you or your head ending up on her shoulder—you two frequently end up right next to each other, considering the fact that you two are the oldest of the bunch, and a popular duo. the laughter comes easily, her smile draws you in without fail, and soon you’re both cracking a bunch more jokes to distract from the awkwardness of the camera lenses. there was a stiffness in the curtain that separated you both, and as soon as it begins to fall the lingering chemistry starts to peek through again.

as time passes, the bond you share with minji deepens as well as with the other members. the lingering feelings you both carry remain tucked away, hidden in the trenches of your hearts and overshadowed by the growing friendship. you find some type of comfort in this new ‘normal.’ to be completely true to yourself, you’re just grateful for the connection that remind you both of the comfort you once shared. 

(for the most part, it stings sometimes, mostly late at night.)

dinner and practice felt natural again too, as easy as brushing your teeth or opening the blinds in the morning. being around minji no longer held that awkward tension; instead, it was a comfort, familiar and warm. the only thing that lingered was your admiration for her, something small that colored your interactions. 

(there were more nights that stung.)

at practice you’d see her greeting everyone with your favorite smile of hers, eyes crinkly and gums showing. she’d smile at you sweetly, maybe even sweeter than how she smiles at the others (but you could be delusional) then head on over to one corner to stretch. 

even the others would notice this, catching you while you’re stretching, hand on one foot reaching for it as you stare at minji through the mirror.

minji is sweaty, lifting her shirt a bit to wipe remnants of the rigorous choreo and giving you a peek of her abdomen. when she brings her shirt back down, your eyes go back to her face. she’s stunning, even after all that exercise and tiring movement. her hair sticks to her a bit, and she just looks so—

hanni pushes you over subtly, making you fall over and let out a weird noise that only she catches. you give her a glare and get up.

“you’re so annoying.”

“someone’s daydreaming a lot these days.” hanni’s right, you’ve been doing that far too often.

“just got a lot on my mind.”

“you’re always staring at minji.” hanni snickers, looking over at the oldest member. “bunnies have even caught you in the youtube videos.”

“they have?”

hanni laughs, helping you up on your feet. “people are calling you guys ‘parentz’ online.”

“w-what?”

“it’s kind of cute,” she grins, “it’s actually hilarious. dani and i were laughing at some clips last night.”

you scoff in response, nudging her with your shoulder and snickering after. minji catches the interaction from afar, eyes narrowing just barely when hanni pushes you again with a little more force, and eyes narrowing just a bit more when you push her back again and laugh.

—

minji hasn’t felt like herself lately, it’s been more than a week. there’s something about you that keeps her attention, especially now that you look stunning for the comeback. in the photoshoots and music video recordings for “super shy” and “new jeans,” you radiated beauty, and minji often tried to look away, but your adorable hairstyle was impossible to resist. she found herself playing with your hair whenever hyein, danielle, or haerin joined in, but only when they distracted you. she wouldn’t dare being the first to do so.

as you began shooting for the full album—not even music video shooting or for the photobooks, just in the booth recording the actual songs—minji was pulled in like sand drawn back into the ocean. she caught sight of you just before her turn to record, attempting to sneak up and surprise you, but you surprised her instead. walking out of the studio, you wore no makeup, your hair was clipped up messily, and a snug t-shirt and sweatpants hugged your form perfectly. 

(her eyes stayed on the curve of your torso for a little longer than she’d like to admit.)

minji froze for a moment, taking in how unraveled you looked; she was mesmerized.

“i didn’t think you’d be here early,” you said, your smile breaking her trance. 

minji felt her stomach twist.

“wanted to surprise you,” she replied, earning a bigger smile in return. “you sound good.” she added, biting back the urge to tell you how good you looked.

“did i? ugh, i don’t know; i think i can do better. i’ll work on adjustments tomorrow.” you sighed, a familiar hint of perfectionism creeping into your voice. minji had always found it strange how you saw flaws in everything you did, despite your talents. you’ve always been like that even when you were fifteen, sixteen, and during the time you two were trainees together. “i bet you’ll do lovely, though.” you add, shaking the topic of you off.

“you think too highly of me,” minji chuckled, shaking her head. “my range is kind of iffy.”

“your voice suits anything, minji. i like how deep it is. it’s nice to the ears, really soothing.” you shrugged, glancing at the cap she wore—a dark gray with pink lettering. a small smirk tugged at your lips, almost imperceptible, but minji noticed. you pinched the brim, lifting it slightly to reveal more of her face before turning it backward and letting it sit like that on her head, a few strands of hair poking out from under to cover her eyes.

“is this new?” you ask, your surprise evident. you move the hair away from her eyes and minji swears she feels her legs wobble.

“um,” minji stammered, caught off guard and blushing slightly. “yeah.”

“it’s cute,” you mumble softly. “fits you well. i’ll see you later? what do you want for dinner? i’m cooking for us tonight.”

“uh, i, um. anything the members want—ask hyein.”

“okay.” you smiled again, walking past her but pausing to give her shoulder a gentle pat. 

minji felt a rush of warmth from the brief contact, and as she stepped into the recording booth, she struggled to shake off the memory of your interaction. her mind lingered on your words and the way you looked at her, causing her to falter. the producer raised an eyebrow at her distraction, but once she shook it off, she found her rhythm, pouring her heart into the song.

—

if seeing you just after recording made her lose her balance, then just seeing you in every concept for the new album had completely swept her off her feet. 

for “cool with you,” the stylists had dressed the members similarly, all with flowy white outfits. however, each members look was different. everyone looked amazing, but the stylist seemed to pay a lot of attention to you—at least in minji’s eyes— because they did you great.

your makeup wasn’t all that strong, just simple eyeshadow, light blush, and faint lip product. still, you looked ethereal. it seemed like you had jumped out of a fairytale movie, even the cameras for the “behind-the-scenes” recording had caught her staring.

minji laughs awkwardly after catching the camera in her peripheral, smiling to hide how flustered she is.

“y/n looks very pretty, doesn’t she?” minji says, “everyone does. i think the concept suits everyone well.”

the camera is still on her, she starts talking about how she feels about the shoot and the album. then minji feels someone creep up from behind, putting both hands on her shoulders and making her jump up. she turns her head slightly to meet some of your features, your gaze on the camera in front of you gives minji a good look at the side of your face.

“hi everyone!” you wave to the camera, then turn to your left, meeting minji. “hi minji.” you say softly, almost adoringly—minji might be a little insane for thinking there’s even a hint of adoration in your tone.

“hi y/n.” 

“i like how they styled you,” you admit, “doesn’t she look wonderful?” you run your fingers through the hair falling down her shoulders. “your hair is so soft… ah, i love the accessories in your hair.”

minji tries her best to keep her cool, especially with the camera focused on both of you. you’re reaching out, playing with her clothes or gently tugging on strands of her hair. your fingers trace the edges of her accessories, and then, almost absentmindedly, you start to toy with her hands, admiring her nails like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world and boasting about it to your fans. at one point, your gaze locks with hers, and minji feels herself freeze for a second. your eyes are intense, filled with a warmth she can’t quite describe, something familiar and it makes her heart race. embarrassed, she laughs it off, looking away as though your compliments are nothing.

minji tries to return the favor, hoping to give you even a fraction of the feeling you’ve stirred in her. her knuckles brush lightly against your jaw, sending a soft tingle up your spine as she points out your earrings to the camera. her touch is brief, but intimate enough to make you hold your breath. then, without warning, you feel her fingers gently poking into your scalp, carefully lifting a section of your hair to admire its style. you don’t expect the sudden closeness, and your lips part slightly as heat rises to your cheeks. 

she catches the change in your expression and feels a little proud, her own heart fluttering at the sight of your blush.

“i was just telling ‘bunnies’ about your look for today. i think it’s really beautiful.”

“do you?”

“mhm,” she nods, “i bet you’ll look wonderful during the choreography too. i’m excited to see the monitoring.”

“haha,” you chuckle awkwardly, “thanks.”

the staff stops recording and shoots a thumbs up to you two, which lifts a weight of your shoulders.

you two don’t share a word for a moment. you can’t really look at her for some reason, and neither can she, but thankfully hyein joins in and starts admiring the both of you.

—

day two of shooting is simply hours of posing for the photobooth. you’re set up for group shots, then some solos.

as you’re doing your solo’s, danielle pops up from behind the camera and starts throwing compliments at you. 

“pretty girl~” she teases, “ooh la la~”

your stone-faced expression is replaced with amusement after the shoot ends. you let out the laughs you’ve been holding, getting up to teasingly hold onto danielle and then push her back. 

“you’re so annoying,” you joke, walking away from her. “you’re so lucky i was close to finishing the shoot, i wouldn’t have been able to go on after.”

“sorry y/n-ie.” she apologizes, “i couldn’t help it.”

you roll your eyes, catching the camera that’s recording the interaction and giving it a dumbfounded look. you pout playfully before danielle jumps to your side and smiles as she hangs onto your arm, both of you giggling like idiots.

minji, who’s watching from afar, accidentally frowns. hanni notices this, considering minji is supposed to be taking a picture of her so she can update on ‘phoning.’

“what’s with the sad face?”

“what?” minji focuses on hanni again instead of the scene going on behind the younger member, readjusting her hand. “it’s just my resting face.”

“you’re not even taking the pictures properly.”

“i– i was thinking of something.” minji shrugs, “look here, let me snap a picture.”

but hanni doesn’t look back at the camera, instead turning around to catch you and danielle giggling about something. then she looks back at minji, who’s also looking in the same direction again, frown present.

“did something happen with either of them?”

“no, it’s nothing.” minji sighs, “you turned your head while i was taking the picture, let’s redo–”

“you weren’t paying attention when you took it.”

“hanni–”

“what’s going on?” hanni asks, brows creasing slightly. “is it y/n?”

“it’s nothing.” minji says firmly, putting the phone down now and giving up. “i think i’m going to go use the restroom.”

“nuh uh, no you’re not.” hanni grabs her wrist, squaring up with minji. “c’mon, what’s up?”

minji pauses, words failing her as she tries to piece together how to explain what’s been gnawing at her for weeks. how does she tell hanni that she’s jealous, jealous of the easy way you and danielle flirt without thinking twice about it? how does she admit that you’ve never really left her mind, that she still wakes up some days with her heart aching for you, despite all her efforts to push the feelings down? minji wonders how she could possibly confess that she hasn’t fallen out of love with you—not even close. in fact, she’s only fallen deeper, drawn to this new version of you that she wasn’t around to witness grow.

it hurts, more than she lets on, that she’s missed out on so much of your life. the pain of being cut off so suddenly still lingers, but at the same time, she’s proud of the sacrifices you made to debut. and it stings even more that you debuted alongside her, the constant proximity stirring up emotions she thought she had buried. she’s spent so many nights alone, thinking about you, about the two of you, wondering what went wrong and what could have been different. 

hanni watches her, waiting for an answer, and minji shrugs, trying to mask the storm of emotions with something easier to swallow.  

“i just feel like y/n and i have this… rift, i guess. as friends, i mean.”

“i don’t see anything wrong between you two,” hanni replies, clearly unconvinced.

“i don’t know… she’s just so relaxed with everyone else, like with danielle. they act like they’ve known each other forever, but with me, it’s different. it feels like something’s changed.”

“are you jealous?”

“no! no,” minji says quickly, shaking her head, though her voice betrays a hint of uncertainty. “it’s not that. i just don’t want anything rocky between us. everything’s fine with the others, but with her… it’s complicated.”

hanni gives her a knowing look. “if it helps, i think she looks up to you a lot. you’re both the oldest, and i feel like there’s a different kind of pressure on you two. maybe she’s just intimidated by how amazing you are. she talks about you all the time when we hang out, and i’ve seen her look at you from across the room more than once. i think you two need to talk or something.”

“she looks at me?”

hanni rolls her eyes. “is that seriously the only thing you took from that? you’re impossible.”

minji blushes, a quiet laugh escaping her, but hanni’s words stick with her. “no, but seriously,” hanni continues, “we’ve had some deep talks, a lot actually. she’s mentioned being scared that she’s not as good as you. she thinks you’re way out of her league, like you set this standard that’s hard to meet.”

minji’s quiet, the weight of hanni’s words sinking in. she glances over and catches your eye from across the room, both of you pausing for a split second before you smile. it’s a small, soft smile, the kind that leaves minji’s heart racing. she quickly looks away, flustered.

“i guess i’ll talk to her,” minji says, her voice softer now.

“you should. i mean, i’m not her, but that’s just my two cents—or won or whatever. you get what i mean.”

minji bites the inside of her lip, nodding slightly as she mulls over the thought of actually talking to you. it’s long overdue. too many things were left unsaid when you ended things, even the apology you gave her before debut didn’t cover it all. but the idea of confronting it all, of putting herself in that vulnerable position again, is terrifying.

maybe after the shoots, after the performances, after the album drops, she tells herself. more time to stall, more time to watch you from a distance, more time to get lost in her own confusion. 

—

promotions aren’t done yet, but you’re close. you’ve just gotten back to korea after performing at lollapalooza, a memory that’ll surely be engraved in your mind.

as fun as it was, you’re exhausted, exhausted from everything and how often you were being put near minji. 

as soon as you get back to the dorms, exhaustion pulls you straight to your bed. you barely make it onto the mattress before you collapse, landing flat on your back. your eyes are heavy from the long day of shooting for the ‘newjeans’ youtube channel, and within seconds, you drift off into sleep, your body giving in completely.

but when you wake up, you’re not in your bed anymore.

the air feels different, the scenery unfamiliar yet somehow recognizable. you blink, disoriented, as you take in the street around you. it feels like a memory—one deeply embedded in your mind. you look down and see your pinky linked with someone else’s, the warmth of their hand anchoring you. confused, you follow the connection, eyes tracing up their arm to their face. at first, the features are blurry, making you squint. and then it hits you, as clear as day.

it’s minji, but not the minji you know now. it’s sixteen-year-old minji.

your heart stutters in your chest. she looks exactly as she did back then, her bright smile lighting up her face. her eyes are wide and full of life, just like you remember from the night market where everything between you had changed. the place where you’d confessed to each other, turning a casual hangout into an unplanned first date.

“what’s wrong? you look a little pale,” minji says, tilting her head in concern, but there’s a playful lilt to her voice.

“minji?” you manage to say, your voice wavering. “what’s going on? you—this—”

“y/n, why are you acting weird?” she laughs softly, her hand sliding into yours, fingers intertwining easily. her thumb brushes lightly against your skin, a touch so familiar it makes your heart ache. “did you skip a meal again? i told you to eat before we came out here.”

her words are like a time capsule, pulling you back to when she’d always remind you to eat. even when she was drowning in her own trainee schedule, she’d send texts making sure you were taking care of yourself. back then, you were just friends. or maybe more, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“i—i have to go,” you stammer, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.

“again?” her smile fades into a frown, brows knitting in confusion as you pull your hand away from hers. “you’re leaving again? without explaining?”

“what?” your voice cracks.

“you’re always leaving me,” she says, her tone dropping. “are you ever going to stop?”

“minji,” you whisper, shutting your eyes against the guilt that washes over you. the regret is palpable, twisting in your stomach. “i didn’t want to, but i had to.”

when you open your eyes again, you’re somewhere else. the market is gone, and you’re left disoriented once more, thrown into another unfamiliar scene.

you’re on a couch now, rubbing your eyes as you sit up. the air smells sweet, like pancakes. your favorite—sundays at home, topped with fresh maple syrup. the scent guides you into the kitchen, where a girl is standing at the stove, her back turned to you. long, dark hair, pajama pants, a loose t-shirt.

she turns, and your heart nearly stops again. it’s minji.

but this time, she’s not sixteen. she’s the age she should be. the present minji. your minji.

“you alright, love?” she asks, concern in her voice as she turns the stove down and sets the spatula aside. she walks over, fingers gently fixing your messy bedhead. “bad nap?”

her touch is soft, her presence warm. she cups your cheek with one hand, her thumb brushing against your skin. “you looked a little shaken up.”

“i’m… no, i’m okay,” you lie, leaning into her touch for just a second. your eyes drift past her, trying to ground yourself. “are you making pancakes?”

“yeah,” she says shyly, her lips curling into a soft smile. “you mentioned missing home, so i thought i’d surprise you.” she presses a light kiss to the tip of your nose. “there’s a batch ready for you.”

“thank you,” you murmur, the words barely leaving your lips as a lump forms in your throat.

“anything for you, baby.” she takes your hand, leading you toward the stove where a plate sits—two pancakes perfectly stacked with raspberries and syrup. it’s thoughtful. so minji. 

you love this, you love her. you never stopped loving her, you couldn’t ever do that. but instead of feeling warmth, you feel a pit growing in your stomach. something’s not right.

“this isn’t right,” you say, voice trembling as you put the plate down.

minji blinks, tilting her head in confusion. “what’s wrong? is it the pancakes?”

“not the pancakes,” you say, stepping back, your hands shaking. “this. none of this.”

she moves closer, concern deepening in her eyes, but you instinctively back away.

“y/n, what are you talking about?”

“this isn’t real,” you choke out, your voice breaking. “i don’t deserve this. minji, i broke up with you. this never happened.”

a tear slides down your cheek, your lip quivering uncontrollably as the weight of your words sinks in. “i’m sorry, minji. i’m so, so sorry. i keep doing this to you. i’m so sorry… i love you so much.”

minji’s expression mirrors the heartbreak from that day—the day you stood at her door, delivering the news that shattered everything between you. the pain you inflicted on her then, it’s all here now, reflected in her eyes.

before she can say anything, you turn, running toward the door, heart pounding in your chest.

…

you shoot up in bed, gasping for air. it takes a few moments before you realize where you are. blinking rapidly, you rub your eyes, trying to ground yourself in reality. you grab your phone, checking the notifications—something from your mom, and a random emoji from haerin in the group chat.

this is real. you're awake. it was just a dream.

it's one in the morning, and you're sitting on the edge of your bed, face buried in your hands. your eyes are shut tightly, trying to suppress the emotions that are threatening to surface. after a deep breath, you force yourself to stand, legs feeling unsteady but somehow keeping your balance. you make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, squinting as the brightness stings your eyes. you splash cold water onto your face, hoping to snap yourself out of the lingering shock. you stare into the mirror and the reflection looking back is someone you barely recognize—someone you can’t stand. your breath shakes, your brows furrow, and you hastily wipe the water from your face before switching off the light and heading toward the living room.

you stop in the kitchen first. grabbing a glass from the cabinet, your fingers hesitate when you realize it's the one minji gifted you for your first birthday together in the group. the memory flashes in your mind—you remember the shock on your face being caught on live stream, eyes wide when she handed you a clear glass with your favorite cartoon character on it. you can almost hear the laughter from that moment, but now it just feels heavy in your hands. 

you fill the glass with water and take a sip, catching your distorted reflection in the stainless steel of the fridge. your hair’s a mess, faint lines under your eyes telling you that sleep hasn’t been kind. you lean your forehead against the cool surface of the fridge, closing your eyes and sighing deeply as exhaustion sets in even deeper.

"are you okay?" a voice comes from behind, making you jump and spill a bit of water onto the floor.

it’s minji—of course it’s minji.

"woah, hey, let me help you clean that—" she steps forward, concerned.

"i’m fine," you lie, shaking your head, waving her away as you kneel down to clean the small spill. "it’s just a few drops, don’t worry." you place the glass on the counter and grab the nearest paper towel, crouching down to wipe the floor quickly, feeling her eyes on you the entire time.

minji watches you closely, her expression soft yet concerned, taking in your restless, frantic movements.

"are you sure you’re alright?" she asks again, voice low, gentle.

"yeah," you breathe out quietly, still not meeting her gaze.

"why are you up this late?" she presses, stepping a little closer, her presence warm but heavy with concern.

you straighten up, tossing the paper towel in the trash. "i just had a… a strange dream."

"nightmare?" she asks softly, tilting her head.

"something like that." you try to brush it off, but you’re too tired to put much effort into sounding convincing. minji watches as you trudge over to the couch, your body language saying more than your words. you sit heavily, sipping your water before setting the glass down on the coffee table. leaning back against the cushions, you close your eyes, trying to sink into the silence, but it doesn’t bring comfort.

minji follows, sitting a few feet away, watching you, clearly wanting to understand. she can tell something’s off. "y/n," she says softly, her voice coaxing your eyes open, "is everything okay?"

you don’t respond right away, instead turning your head slightly to look at her. there’s something vulnerable in your eyes, a longing, a quiet ache. but you sigh, closing your eyes again, trying to swallow it all down.

"i’m sorry," you whisper after a beat.

"for what?" minji asks gently, scooting closer to you, her hand hovering over yours as if she’s not sure whether to reach for you or not.

"everything," you mutter, voice thick with regret. "minji, i’m sorry for everything."

she shifts even closer now, her hand softly covering yours, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "is this about…" she trails off, already knowing what you’re referring to.

"yeah," you say quietly, eyes still closed, voice tight. "i’m sorry. i’m so sorry." your voice breaks, and you finally open your eyes, but you can’t look at her. "you didn’t deserve what i did. i’m sorry i debuted with you, i’m sorry for all of it. god, minji, i’m so sorry."

"y/n," she breathes out softly, her hand gripping yours a little tighter now. "we were young. we didn’t know—"

"i didn’t want to break up with you," you blurt out, cutting her off. "my company… they saw my lockscreen. i’m so stupid. they made me break your heart." the words spill out, your voice raw and trembling. "you were never a burden. i never stopped loving you. seeing you now, after all this time, you’ve grown into this incredible person, and i… i can’t stop loving you. it’s killing me. i don’t deserve to love you after what i did. i tried to push it down, but i can’t. i hate myself for it." your breath catches in your throat, tears welling up as you force yourself to keep talking. "you’re so perfect. you’re everything i could never be."

"y/n, stop," minji pleads, her voice thick with emotion, but you pull your hand away, retreating from her touch.

"no, you don’t get it," you say, shaking your head. "you’re perfect, minji. i’m being compared to you every day, and i’m nothing like you. you’re the role model, you’re everything the group needs. and i’m just… i’m an asshole. i tried so hard to keep things casual, to pretend i was fine, but i’m not. i’m not fine. i’m still so in love with you that it hurts." you pause, voice faltering, barely holding it together. "i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry."

minji’s eyes fill with tears as she listens, her heart clearly breaking for you, for everything you’ve carried alone. she tries to pull you in again, to comfort you, but you push her away one last time, unable to accept the closeness.

and she doesn’t push further. she just watches, her heart breaking alongside yours.

a tear slips from her eyes, she’s looking at your trembling body and unstoppable flow of tears. minji shakes her head, opting for holding your hands instead, her fingers brushing against your knuckles.

“y/n, do you remember what i told you before?”

“what?”

“y/n i hated you for a good amount of time. but time made me realize that we were both just trying to reach our dreams, and if that meant you sacrificing us, then… i support you. i did support you. that never stopped me from loving you either.”

you stay silent and look at her through tear lined eyes.

“i tried to push down a lot, and it hurts to see that you’re hurting from doing the same thing as me. as your member, as your friend, and… as someone who loves you beyond measure: i don’t want you to hurt anymore. it’s okay, y/n, it’s okay.”

you let her pull you in this time, her tears stain your hair and her arms wrap around you so warmly that all you can do is succumb to the tenderness. you sob into her shoulder, muttering at least three more “i’m sorry’s” into her.

“y/n, what i said before still goes. ‘i love you. i love you when i’m exhausted from practice, i love you when i’m stressed over exams, i love you when we only have a few minutes together… i love you every moment of every day.’ i never stopped loving you ever.” 

the memory echoes in your head, replaying the two times minji said it—both sincere, both heart-wrenching. you feel a little less terrible when her hands begin rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. you can hear the slight crack in her voice, the way she tries to stay strong for you because that’s who she is—someone who always holds it together for everyone else. 

(“are you okay?” you’d asked her once, catching that brief shift in her expression, the kind she tried to hide. 

you took a better look at her that day, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, the slight lag in her movements, like she was carrying something heavy. it took her a few seconds to force a smile, nodding as if everything was fine.

“yeah, sorry,” she said casually, quickly turning her attention back to her food. “just thinking.”

“minji,” you said her name softly, reaching out to place your hand over hers. she looked up at you, a little surprised, her cheeks flushing slightly. “tell me what’s going on.”

“it’s fine, i—” she started, but you cut her off with a raised brow, your expression making her shrink a little under your gaze. the warm glow of the restaurant’s evening lights illuminated her features, the soft orange hue catching the tiredness in her eyes. she pursed her lips, letting out a small sigh before admitting, “everything’s been really difficult lately. i’m losing energy. i feel like i’m not doing well. it’s just… i wish you could be there with me more. thinking about you is what gets me through practice. knowing i’ll see you, even just once or twice a week, pushes me to keep going.”

you didn’t say anything at first, just pushed your bowl of noodles across the table towards her before standing up and sitting beside her instead of across. she looked at you, confused, but you reached for her hand again, holding it in both of yours as you gazed at her with all the love and understanding you felt.

“you’re always doing great, minji. no one’s doing it like you,” you said, voice soft but certain.

“really?” her voice was small, like she wasn’t sure if she should believe you.

“of course,” you reassured her, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head before pulling back. “i’ve been feeling the same way. just the thought of you keeps me going. let’s be each other’s push, okay?”

minji’s face softened, her lips curving into a small smile. she nodded before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“okay,” she whispered.) 

as you sit here now, her hands still rubbing comforting circles on your back, the memory feels bittersweet. she’s always been there for you, even when you couldn’t be there for her.

minji holds you close, her arms tight around you like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she lets go. you bury your face deeper into the crook of her neck, your own arms wrapped around her, clinging like she’s your anchor.

“you’ve always been my push,” minji says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “that’s never changed.”

she pulls back gently, lifting your head and brushing away the strands of hair that have stuck to your tear-streaked face. her own eyes are glassy, but she smiles through the tears, looking at you in a way that makes her feel exposed, vulnerable—like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“can we try again?” you ask, voice trembling with hope and hesitation.

she blinks, heart racing. the weight of your question settles in the air, heavy and fragile. 

“of course,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “that’s all i’ve wanted.”

time seems to freeze, the air still around you as your eyes lock. it feels like you’re both sixteen again, standing in that alleyway after a long night at the street market, except this time it’s different. now you’re on the couch, in the dorm you both share because you made it—you both made it. you two achieved your dreams. but there’s always been something missing: each other.

minji cups your cheek, just like she did back then, but her touch is softer now, more tender, more vulnerable. her thumb strokes your skin as she leans in slowly, her eyes fluttering shut before her lips meet yours. it’s gentle, delicate, like she’s afraid you’ll crumble under the weight of her affection. your hand instinctively moves to rest atop hers, feeling the warmth of her knuckles against your cold skin. the kiss is soft, laced with the remnants of tears, but somehow it tastes sweet. everything you’ve been holding onto—all the fear, all the doubt—seems to melt away in that moment.

you pull back first, though only just. your lips hover near hers, close enough to feel her breath.

“i love you, minji,” you say, voice low but firm. “i’m never going to make you doubt that again.”

her eyes soften, and she brings her hand to the nape of your neck, pulling you in again. “i love you too, y/n,” she whispers, before pressing her lips to yours once more, this time with a little more certainty, a little more sweetness. like you’ve both finally found what you’ve been missing.

—

hyein stumbles into the living room, rubbing her eyes, not fully awake yet. she groans, dragging her feet toward the kitchen, but stops mid-step when she spots two familiar heads peeking out from the couch. her sleepy eyes narrow as she tries to make sense of what she’s seeing. the sight takes a moment to register, and when it finally does, a sleepy smile creeps onto her face.

you and minji are tangled together on the couch in what looks like an awkward but oddly comfortable position. your head is resting on her shoulder, one arm lazily draped over her, your hand clasped loosely with hers. minji’s other arm is wrapped around you protectively, her head tilted at an angle that looks uncomfortable, but somehow it balances out with the way yours is twisted. the corner of the couch has you two nestled in tight, looking cozy in your pajamas, mouths parted slightly, both of your eyes a little puffy from sleep—a little too puffy to be from sleep. hyein stares, completely baffled at how you both ended up like this.

haerin is the next to wake up, and she spots hyein standing by the couch, phone in hand, snapping a picture. haerin yawns as she saunters over, her head tilting like a curious cat when she catches sight of you two. her brows furrow, and before she can even ask, your head slips, falling from minji’s shoulder and landing in her lap. your torso twists in an awkward, almost painful-looking angle, but minji instinctively shifts, scooting over to make room and pulling you closer, making sure you’re both comfortable without even waking up.

"what’s with them?" haerin asks, her voice low and groggy, her eyes narrowing at her oldest members.

"dunno," hyein shrugs, amused. "i’ve never seen them this close."

"me neither."

before they can figure out what’s going on, hanni and danielle stroll in, spotting the younger girls gathered by the couch. curiosity piqued, they walk over to see what’s going on, and as soon as they do, their eyes widen in surprise. a grin spreads across hanni’s face, and she wastes no time whipping out her phone to capture the moment. she quickly airdrops the photo to danielle, who giggles as she looks down at her phone, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"what’s up with the parents?" hanni teases, barely able to hold back a laugh.

"parents?" haerin repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"just look at them."

you and minji remain tangled together, still sound asleep despite the odd position, yet somehow, you both look peaceful, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. your head rests in minji’s lap now, her hand still protectively holding yours, the two of you fitting together as if you’ve always been like this.

hyein and haerin exchange glances, amused but confused, while hanni and danielle quietly snicker like children who’ve stumbled onto something they weren’t supposed to see.

—

the next few weeks with promotions still going on postpones the time you get to explain everything to your members. but eventually you and minji sit down with them in the living room, going over the whole timeline of events and earning a variety of reactions.

your members gather around, all seated in the living room, eyes trained on you and minji. there’s a tense sort of anticipation in the air, the kind that comes with heavy conversations. you and minji exchange a glance before diving into the timeline of everything— how it started, how it fell apart, and now, how you’ve found your way back to each other. each word feels like you’re lifting a piece of the weight that’s been suffocating you both for so long.

the reactions from your members are immediate. there are lots of “ohhhh”s and “ahhhhs” as they start piecing things together, understanding slowly dawning on their faces. you see nods of realization, and even though some of the details are painful, they listen intently, faces softened with sympathy. they admit they’d sensed something was off but had never wanted to pry, giving you both the space they thought you needed. now, knowing the full story, their expressions shift to one of collective empathy, eyes filled with a kind of pity and concern.

you and minji sit close, your hands intertwined, a subtle reassurance to each other that it’s okay to finally share this. as you speak, minji’s thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, grounding you when the memories become too much. the frowns deepen as you recount the harder parts—the breakup, the misunderstandings, and the silent pain you both carried alone. but there’s also relief. it’s evident in the way your members nod along, like everything makes sense now. they’ve always had your backs, and now it feels like they’re rooting for you even harder.

"we never wanted to push," hanni finally says, her voice soft, almost apologetic. "we figured you two just needed time."

danielle nods along, her eyes a little glossy, while haerin sits quietly, processing it all. hyein, surprisingly, offers a small smile, "i’m glad you guys worked it out."

you and minji exchange another look, this time a lighter one. something close to peace settles over you both, like a burden’s been lifted now that the truth is out there. it feels good to be understood, to no longer have to hide the past or the pain from the people closest to you.

this isn’t like before—and that’s a good thing. there’s no going back to what was, because now you’re both different, stronger, and this version of “normal” is something you’d choose over and over again. you’ll grow alongside minji, hand in hand, side by side, and she’ll be growing with you too.

you wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this.

—-

"you called?"

“texted, but close enough,” you respond with a smirk. minji rolls her eyes playfully before plopping onto your bed, looking at you curiously. 

“did you need something?” she asks, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

“i just remembered something,” you say, moving toward the bed. “i wanted to show you it—give it to you before your shoot. you said you had to leave in twenty, right? well, i found this while i was organizing things."

“what is it?” she asks, her curiosity piqued. her eyes follow your movements as you crouch down, pulling a slightly worn shoe box from under the bed.

you smile as you open the lid, revealing a collection of small mementos—photos, letters, and trinkets that instantly stir up memories for both of you. minji leans closer, her eyes widening slightly when she recognizes some of the items.

“i never threw anything out,” you explain, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “i couldn’t. i remember you gave me two copies of this because you couldn’t keep one at your place while we were both trainees. i’ve always kept it… never really looked at it after everything, though… after i…”

your voice trails off, the weight of that unfinished sentence hanging in the air. minji, understanding without needing an explanation, moves from the bed and sits beside you on the floor. her shoulder presses against yours, a silent comfort.

you reach into the box, pulling out a photo strip. it’s from one of your dates, back when things were simpler, when everything felt new. you flip it over, revealing four small photos in sequence. the first has your cheeks pressed together, wide smiles on both your faces. in the second, you’re both forming a heart with your hands. the third shows minji kissing your cheek, and the last one has you kissing hers. your smile deepens as you hand it to her.

minji stares at the strip, her fingers lightly tracing the edges of the photos. her expression softens, caught between disbelief and tenderness. you two were so young back then, but the love captured in the pictures is unmistakable—just like the love that still exists between you now. she glances at you, her gaze full of warmth.

“now you can keep it,” you say, voice gentle, “without worrying about anyone taking it from you.”

“y/n…” minji whispers, her voice so quiet, so filled with awe. she hugs you tightly, and before you know it, she's covering your face with kisses, one after the other, until finally, she presses her lips to yours in a long, tender kiss that feels like everything you've been holding back for so long.

“i seriously love you so much,” she breathes out when she pulls away, her forehead resting against yours.

“i love you more,” you reply, grinning.

“more than timbits?” she teases, raising a brow.

you giggle, poking her cheek. “don’t get ahead of yourself now.”

[samkerrworshipper]

the lawn is dead

it’s suicide awareness month and i want to emphasise the importance of reaching out. you are loved. there are options. you will be missed. suicide is a permanent solution to temporary problems. you can get better. you are not a lost cause. talk to somebody.

warnings: reader discretion advised. heavy suicide, self harm, depression themes

There was an overall assumption that all children were born innocent.

Not you.

You swore that when you were born, a coin was flipped, and it landed on the complete wrong side.

Sometimes you felt like your brain and body were disconnected, that everything inside of you worked separately, like you were a sewed together body on the inside, a internal frankenstein.

It was tough feeling like you didn’t belong in your own boyd, but it was even harder when you knew that you were an imposter inside.

It was ironic, that you had imposter syndrome, and yet there was nothing wrong with your life.

There had been.

Had. No longer. Past tense.

You’re supposed to be happy, you suppose. You have the world at your feet, you have the life everybody wants, the world is your oyster.

It doesn’t matter how many times you rotate those thoughts through your split up brain, it never sinks in, because there is a deeply onset belief inside of you that can’t deny the dishonesty behind the words.

You should be happy, you should be utilising the gifts you’ve been given, you should be appreciating the life you have, and yet all of it just feels like a big ball of tangled up yarn, a clump of knots and mess that makes no sense.

You’re not allowed to feel numb, so you try and pinpoint what it is that you are feeling.

Are is too hard, so you start with aren’t.

You aren’t mad, you aren’t sad or it doesn’t feel like normal sadness, you’re definitely not happy, not scared, are not anxious, it feels like nothingness.

Yet nothingness doesn’t feel so all consuming, nothingness is lying in bed down in bed and doomscrolling until somehow 8 hours have passed and you’ve wasted a whole day and don’t find yourself caring. Nothingness is sitting down in the shower and covering your ears with your hands and finding solace in the intense rain noises. Nothingness is driving until you forget where you were supposed to be going and have autopiloted your way to the opposite side of town somehow. Nothingness is being so obsolete of your own body that everything is a fog, nothing makes sense, you’re devoid of all emotions and all the discombobulated sections of your body.

If anything, this is everythingness, this is all the feelings in the world beating down across your skin. You’re itching with agitation, itching with everything in your life and yet none of it penetrates the surface beyond the rotor of thoughts that continue to circulate like the blood in your veins.

It’s like your sitting inside a plastic bubble, and every variable is crashing down against the plastic. It’s all there, it’s crashing down, but it doesn’t touch you, it doesn’t penetrate, there is just a constant reminder that it’s all there. If you try to break out of the bubble you’re forced to face it, but you feel like you’re suffocating and the bubble is slowly depriving you of oxygen.

A part of you wouldn’t mind for it to suck the life out of you.

Sometimes it’s inevitable, letting the thoughts in your brain win, or syncing the truth out so much that it all distorts into a messy mixture of non-emotions that are more hurtful then helpful.

You’re in a weird funk, that’s hwat you keep telling yourself. With injuries and off-season and change of seasons. You tell yourself that it’s unescapable, that there aren’t any ways to escape the deadly habit that is you’re self-inflicted brain rotting and slowly decomposing.

There are outlets, there are options, but in it;s current state you’re brain denounces them all.

Occasionally, you’re brain falls into the same death trap that it was conditioned into as a child. Survival was solely your own responsisbility, there was no leaning, no relying, just yourself and your own strategies that occasionally kept you functioning.

Most of the time you were fine, most of the time you were able to isolate the darkest, disconnected fragments of your body but not all the time.

Sometimes you don’t though.

Every so often, you suffocate yourself, intentionally or unintentionally isn’t always clear, sometimes you’re so lacking on oxygen and everything that makes survival a possibility that you just stop. Those times, when you stop, when you fall, when you plummet. It’s when you drop into the death pit of unthinkable thoughts.

It’s when you get to the part of your brain that you wish had never been stitched up with all the others.

You try and avoid it, if you work hard on a normal day then you can normally disconnect it from the functioning parts that you rely on, but occasionally, when you’re left to fend for yourself that one part that’s normally off, lights up like a christmas tree.

It flashes bright red, like a alarm in the deepest parts of your brain, and it won’t stop flashing until you do something about it.

You’ve got coping mechanisms that you’ve developed over the years, running, football, eating, cooking, reading, sleeping, sex. None of it has even begun to strike the surface, normally your best bet was sleeping it off, depression, or depressive thoughts always seemed to fade with sunlight, it was the moments in the dark when everything suddenly felt… heavier.

You hadn’t been able to sleep since you’d gotten injured, everything was harder when you had so much weight on your back. Weight to recover, weight to get stronger, weight to be the same on the pitch.

It was a minor injury, some grief with your ankle ligaments that weren’t actually injured but also weren’t fixed, it was annoying, and everyday was a drag.

A drag of back and forth recovery and rest that had your mind buzzing from the inside.

It was no secret that you didn’t handle injuries well, you craved the physicality of being a professional athlete, your brain needed the stimulation that it involved. Without it, you struggled, it was clear to everybody around you that you couldn’t function sitting on the sidelines, it had inevitably made you crazy.

You were walking on eggshells, your friends had tried to point it out to you and you’d ignored it up until now.

It was impossible to ignore it at this stage though.

It was all you could think about, the constant pain, the overwhelming brain fuzz, the weight of it all.

Over and over and over and over and over again.

Your hands are shaking, your breaths are staggered, your skin is prickly, your throat is dry, your body is cold and there is a deep set pain in the centre of your stomach that no matter how many times you try and shift it away nothing works.

You’re too deep.

Your whole life, it had always been your biggest wish that the part of you that was broken and threaded together would fix itself, medication made it manageable, therapy made it calmer, but sometimes in life it was impossible to contain the uncontainable. Life was unpredictable, and yet your circumstances were on trend with how your life had been recently.

You should have seen this coming, but a part of you thinks that you did and you’d been content with letting all of these thoughts infiltrate deep in your mind.

Sometimes you look at yourself in the mirror, and you can’t even notice it, it’s like all of the pain and trauma will fall so far from the surface on occasion that you’re foolish enough to believe that maybe it’s all finally gone.

Not now, not at all.

But a part of you wants to make it all gone.

It’s all you can think about, you know how easy it would be, you have it all planned out.

The letters are written, the plan has been made for years, it’s your execution that is lacking.

You aren’t scared, you are more than happy for a big blac cloud of nothingness to come and take you from your life, it would make it all so much easier.

You just need to know that you’ll succeed.

Failure is not an option, in ever single part of your life it hasn’t ever been. But specifically with your life.

If you’re out, you’re out, end of sentence.

There isn’t any recovery, there isn’t any coming back, no psych holds, no hospitals, no treatment, just death. It’s an answer, it’s conclusive. Right now it would solve all of your problems, literally, you could count on every single finger and toe how it would solve the fucked-up puzzle of your life. Normally, there is always something holding you back though. Football had been the main excuse for most times, the headlines would be miserable and all of the fuss and fake-sentiment would be so much worse. Once it had been because you were in love, and that was the best reason. But, like most thing you were unable to keep it alive, and so it died out.

It was all a metaphor for your life, football had been good, until it all slowly self-detonated, love had been good but you were a ticking time bomb of sabotage.

It would be oh so easy.

You knew the tips and tricks, you’d been thinking about it for years. Four long vertical lines, deep enough to need stitches but not deep enough that it would all fade immediately. You wanted to feel the pain, you wanted it all to be a big black and red painful mess, your vision swimming and body giving up because of the pain, not because of the damage you’d done.

It sounded so perfect.

It would be oh so easy, nobody would even notice, it would probably be days before anybody even realised you were gone. You would fade from earth and life like nothing, and nobody would care, and you were happy for it to be that way. You were happy to just disappear, you wanted it all to end.

It’s all hitting that hard, you don’t want help, you don’t want to feel normal, you don’t want treatment, you don’t want meds, you just want to be gone. You normally experience life with so many emotions, too many, but right now, in the bubble of your depression, the only think you feel is a desire to vanish.

There isn’t any hesitation, nothing holding you back as you pick up your poison of choice. It’s always been the same since you were a teenager, you’ve known how you’d go out from the minute it had gone downhill from the very first time. That had been a long time ago now, but not much had changed. Sure, maybe your face had matured a bit, you’re body had changed with being a professional athlete, and you weren’t as self destructive but really when it all boiled down nothing had truly changed.

You were the same broken, lost and alone girl that you had always been.

The same girl hiding in the corner of her bathroom in a pair of sweats that made her body seem so much smaller then it was, a razor blade in one shaky hand and the other hand busy forcing the sleeve of her hoodie up, leaving a easily accessible patch of skin.

It was the same old routine, except this time with a different intention.

You had your scars, you had your invisible marks that nobody could see but you. You were as good at hiding them as you were at your depleting mental health. Over the years you’d learnt how to hurt yourself without leaving permanent marks, you’d learnt how to hide it all from the people closest to you.

Until Alexia.

Love made a person dumb, and being in love with Alexia made you happier then you’d ever experienced and from the moment fireworks had gone off between the two of you, your barriers had fallen down. It had been good, until it hadn’t. Once again, you were left all alone, due to your own self-destructive habits. You couldn’t let yourself be happy, you didn’t know what long term happiness looked like for you and it was terrifying.

It had all been downhill from there, if there was no happiness in the future for you then what was the point? Your life was blowing up, football was the only thing you’d ever lived for and you still had football but football wasn’t for ever, if there was nothing beyond that then what was the point. You didn’t have a education, and whilst you earnt a decent amount off of football, it wasn’t enough to live off of, and now you had nobody else to live for.

Your life, from your perspective, had become pointless.

Whilst you were certain that your behaviour and gone unnoticed, that was far from the truth.

Most of your teammates had picked up on your particularly low mood. You weren’t ever the happiest person in the locker room, one of the more lowkey people who always allowed yourself to fade into the shadows. But that didn’t mean that people didn’t notice you, especially the people who had come to care for you.

You were injured, and that had come to be the main justification for your particularly down moods, but there was also a sneaking suspicion across some of your teammates that something more was wrong, that there was some other kind of cause for the way you dragged yourself around the gym and rooms during your days spent doing rehab.

You looked lifeless, like everything human about you had been drained.

Alexia knew it was something more, in her time with you, she’d learnt about your struggles and just when she thought that you’d started to open up to her, you’d cut it all off. So whilst she didn’t know the extensive history, she knew you had your demons, and that whatever was haunting you this time around wasn’t going to dissapear anytime soon.

Alexia could say that she didn’t care about you anymore, but it would make her a liar.

She’d always hoped that the two of you would make your way back to eachother, that you’re insistence that the two of you weren’t meant to be was overshadowed by the doubt you’d always about the relationship would somehow flip and you’d realise no matter how many issues you had Alexia was prepared to love you through all of them.

But as the time passed from the breakup, you only distanced yourself more. The person that Alexia had tried to bring out shrunk right back into it’s shell. Everyone on the team had been elated to see you find your footing with Alexia, it was the first time in your years at Barca that everyone started to meet you as a person and not just as a footballer. Alexia thought it had meant things were looking up for you, but all good things came to an end.

You’d been appearing like you’d slowly been slipping further down a slope, the bags underneath your eyes getting bigger, your sluggish behaviour getting worse, your determination to do you rehab dwindling and your willingness to interact with any person at the club being completely non-existent.

You were anti-social at the best of times, but completely diverting from all interactions was new for you and Alexia hadn’t been the only one to notice, it was evident to anybody with a brain that something was wrong, Alexia had no idea though just how wrong it all was.

The coincidence of an away Madrid game during the time that it was clear you were tanking was something that Alexia was particularly annoyed by. There was no plausible excuse for her to stay back from the trip, she was the captain, and she was perfectly fit to play. Plus, she had no obligation to you, you’d washed your hands of Alexia months ago and whilst Alexia still felt lingering concern for you she couldn’t justify staying back for what could potentially be nothing.

That didn’t mean though that she was going to just leave you be, not when she was so certain that there was something truly wrong.

Alexia wasn’t exactly sure of the severity of your trauma. She knew that your relationship with your parents was frayed to say the least, that you didn’t talk to them at all anymore and every time Alexia had tried to ask about them she had been met with a cold shoulder. So after a few tries she’d stopped trying, she didn’t know what it was like to have a disconnected family, she couldn’t relate or empathise with your issues and it killed her.

She knew you took medications, she had no idea what, you kept your daily medication closely guarded, but she knew it had something to do with your mental health. She didn’t ask about it, Alexia had been through your shut downs with you, and she knew broaching the subject of your mental health could be so detrimental to your mindset. She let you show her as much as you wanted to, she ignored the scars on your body, ignored the way that she recognised the complete disregard you had for your body. It was clear in every single aspect of your life that you had a little bit less concern then everybody else did. You put your body on the line in football, in ways that made Alexia furious. You didn’t flinch away from pain, if anything you stepped into the line of fire.

You hid injuries, you hid sickness, you pushed through it all. It was terrifying for Alexia as a partner to watch you continuously put yourself on the line and act like it was completely nothing. By the end of your relationship it was getting hard to watch it happen.

Your ankle injury was a result of that, you hadn’t even been the one ton sideline yourself. It had fallen down to Irene catching a glimpse of your purple and black swelled up ankle after a training session and her marching you to the team physio to get it checked out. It wasn’t shocking to Alexia, but it did make her wonder how many time you’d chosen to hide your pain in favour of putting up a brave face and pushing through, in all aspects of your life.

Alexia was worried and yet she felt as though she had no right to be.

She’d let you push her away, knowing that in some way or another it could be hurting not just her but you, realisatically she couldn’t do anything about it. If you didn’t want to be in a relationship with her she couldn’t force you, but a part of her thought she might have let go a little to easy.

For her, you would be the one that got away.

She wasn’t ready to let you get away yet though.

Really, if she thought about it, it was Mapi who had highlighted that you weren’t okay, and that maybe it was time for somebody to reach out to you. Mapi had come to care a lot about you, she’d seen how broken both you and Alexia were after the split, Alexia was still functioning though, you seemed like you were losing energy for life as everyday passed.

Mapi had been the one to suggest that she’d check on you whilst everyone else was gone, Mapi being stuck behind with some minor twinges in her knee, it was more precautionary than anything that she took the weekend off. She was more then happy though to be a good friend and spend some extra time with you if it meant getting to the bottom of whatever had been going on.

Her intentions had been to bring around a fresh meal, her mama’s old tapa recipe that always managed to light up Ingrid’s face. If her tapas earned her a way into your apartment then she was hoping to sit down with you, maybe have a chat, watch whatever football watch was on. Something, she wanted some kind of proof that you were okay, that even though you were going through a rough time that you manage, that at some point you would come out of this funk and you would go back to the old version of yourself. Maybe better, maybe you would unearth some kind of happiness from you situation and you would be better off because of it.

Mapi knew the odds of all of that were drastically low, but she was also the optimist of everything, it was the reason that she was so good at making uncomfortable people feel more settled in the team. She knocked on your front door with a extra bit of pep in her, hope that somehow she was going to resolve all of the underlying issues that everyone had been expressing for weeks now but had been too afraid to unearth. Mapi was certain that her approach might actually help, that instead of being the authoritative figure that Alexia, Irene, Marta and Patri were as your captains. Mapi was here as a friend, nothing more and nothing less and she hoped that would maybe encourage you to open up to her.

Mapi waited at least a minute after her initial knock before knocking again.

Your car had been beside Mapi’s when she’d parked downstairs, so she knew you were home. It wasn’t late, but it also wasn’t early enough that Mapi could rule out the possibility of you being asleep. Alexia had shoved her old key to your apartment into Mapi’s hand before she’d left, there weren’t any instructions, but the pure desperation in Alexia’s eyes was making Mapi feel compelled to use it.

Her third knock on the door was met with more silence.

You were probably sleeping.

There were parts of Mapi crawling with the emerging feeling of anxiety, she just needed to see you. You’d skipped your gym session today, something that was extremely abnormal for you, it had been worrying enough for Mapi, but you not responding to her now was sending her into a full on spiral.

“It’s Mapi, if you could open up for me please chica, I have some food for you.”

Mapi doesn’t even hear furniture creak.

She repeats what she said again, and is met with complete silence.

“Chica, are you in there? Are you awake? Just answer me, you don’t have to open the door.”

Mapi, if she looks really hard, can make out the faintest glow underneath your door, maybe a lamp?

Mapi waits a few more seconds, and sprinkles in some aggressive knocks. She’s met with nothing in response.

She digs around desperately in her pocket for the key, her fingers eventually coming into contact with the weight of the key in the back pocket of her jeans.

She pulls it up to the door knob with regret coursing through her veins, she doesn’t feel good about invading your privacy, but she feels even worse about everything else, and it’s all enough to overshadow her concern for your feelings about being left alone. After all, you might just be asleep.

The key makes a click after Mapi turns it counterclockwise twice, Mapi reaches for the door knob, it’s the final barrier between her and you, and without much hesitation she pushes the knob down and it opens.

Mapi shivers with the frigid breeze that comes at her as she steps into your apartment.

As soon as her foot hits your wooden floor she can tell something is off, she doesn’t know what but she can just feel it.

Mapi walks into your apartment slowly, with a quick scan of your kitchen and living space she is certain the room is empty. She leaves her dish of tapas on the couter of your kitchen and surveys the room before hesitantly making her way into your hallway. The door to your guest room is open, so naturally Mapi looks in there first.

“Chica, I came in to drop off some food, are you home?”

Mapi, whilst she can’t physically see you anywhere, has a weird kind of sense that you are here, she’s just not sure where.

The guest room is completely empty, in fact, mapi is sure that there is dust lying on top of the spare sheets. She can’t remember the last time you mentioned having somebody stay, at the very start of your signing to Barca, occasionally girls from your National team would come and visit during breaks. Mapi remembers that time, she wouldn’t have said you were happy, but you seemed a bit more content. It was best Mapi had seen you before Alexia.

Mapi is fairly familiar with your apartment, between game nights, post game drinks and double dates she’d spent enough time in your apartment to know where everything was.

Your main bathroom was empty, leaving your bedroom and ensuite.

Mapi felt like she’d invaded enough of your privacy, your bedroom might be the over step.

But there was the clawing feeling, the same feeling that she’d gotten when she’d walked into the apartment that something was wrong, and she wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight without getting to the bottom of it.

So with much apprehension, Mapi walks the rest of the way down the hallway and to the door of your bedroom.

Mapi swears that she has sweat through her shirt, even though your apartment feels colder than the Norwegian winter she’d recently experienced.

Her hands are all sweaty, the same they get before any match, she doesn’t know where her nerves are coming from, she doesn’t have anything to worry about, yet.

Mapi knocks as quietly on your bedroom door as possible, she’s made her mind up that if you are sleeping she’ll leave a note with her tapas and take her leave, she doesn’t need to disturb you.

“Chica, I came here to drop some food off, just make a noise and I’ll leave you.”

Mapi waits for what feels like eternity, and after a long stretch of silence she takes the leap.

She opens the door as quietly as possible, and feels defeated when she spots your complete empty bed.

Everything looks normal, in a weird kind of way. Your sheets are made up, almost pedantically. All the corners tucked in and pillows positioned like they would be in a catalogue.

The only light in the room is the light that is filtering in from your ensuite, underneath the door. It’s bright enough that Mapi can see around the room.

She wants to leave. But she can’t, not without checking.

There is a off chance that you’ve gone on a walk, an activity that definitely was not approved by your physios but she supposed you’d never really obeyed them in the first place.

It’s one last room, your apartment seems so devoid of life that Mapi is confident that it’ll be empty.

She tiptoes across your bedroom, everything about this feels so wrong, like she’s invading somebody’s life that she doesn’t even know anything about.

Mapi knocks on your bathroom door.

“Chica, if you’re in there, just let me know and I’ll leave you be.”

Silence. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a squeak.

Mapi’s hand is so sweaty that it nearly slips off of the handle on the door, she doesn’t know why she’s nervous, she doesn’t have any reason to be nervous. Yet it also feels like there are a millon under lying reasons.

Mapi plucks up the courage, because she has to, and twists the knob.

Away games are always a weird mixture of relaxing but also having absolutely no time to yourself.

Alexia’s least favourite part about away games is team bonding. Following the first team dinner of every away trip it’s customary to do some kind of team bonding exercise. She understands that it’s important, but after a long train trip to Madrid the last thing she wants is to spend hours trying to get out of an escape room with no phone and all of the younger girls talking her ear off. What Alexia wants is to get back to the hotel and sleep. Yet she’s stuck in a confined space with girls that she loves but wants nothing more to get away from.

Caro and Keira seem to be in the same mindset as her, the three of them all keeping as far away from the ruckus as possible. After two hours of the madness, Vicky of all people manages to get to the bottom of the puzzle and somehow unlocks the door, Alexia isn’t sure of the logistics of it and she doesn’t really care.

The girls all celebrate as the file out, but there is an overall feeling that everybody is ready to head back to the hotel and go to sleep.

Phones are handed back and Alexia almost pockets hers, to tired to look at whatever messages or instagram notifications she has. But it’s the sea of missed calls that catch her attention.

Alexia’s heart drops.

She’s got dozens of missed calls from Mapi and she knows from the minute she sees her call log that something is wrong.

All Mapi can remember is the amount of blood.

It was so red against your white bathroom tiles.

So much blood. Mapi was certain that there wasn’t that much blood in the human body, and yet it just kept leaking out, even as she pressed your towels to your arm, it kept leaking through.

She vaguely remembers going through her very basic medical training. Checking your pulse, it took a while for her to find it but eventually she does. She doesn’t know if it weak or it’s just her shaking hands that can’t pin your pulse down.

She uses a leftover hair tie on her wrist as a tourniquet, she doesn’t think it’s working but she has nothing else.

Compression.

She vaguely remembers her call with the emergency services, struggling to find words but forcing them out of her mouth because she had to.

The lady on the other side of the phone talks her through it, tells Mapi that she’s doing the right things, she walks Mapi through what to do if you stop breathing. Mapi thinks you are, your chest lifts every so slightly every few seconds, but it’s so subtle Mapi swears she might be imagining it.

The lady tells Mapi that eventually your blood should clot, but Mapi finds it hard to believe. Her hands and shirt are covered in blood, your blood, it’s everywhere, red and thick and it’s overwhelming Mapi. Your bathroom looks like a crime scene, a murder scene, and Mapi supposes it almost is.

When the paramedics show up, Mapi doesn’t know what to do, they’re so methodical. One of them talks to Mapi whilst their partner attends to you, Mapi’s hands are shaking, her hands, covered in your blood. She should have taken that extra medical course that they’d offered all the players at the start of the season, maybe it would have prepared her better. Nothing prepares a person for what Mapi just did though, no amount of medical training or training courses could ever prepare a person for what Mapi just saw.

The paramedic assures Mapi that she did everything right, that you wouldn’t be alive without her, and those words make it all worse. Dead. You could have been dead. The paramedic offers to take Mapi to the hospital with you, but she declines, she needs a minute, she needs to have a second to think about herself. The paramedic tells Mapi the name of the hospital they’ll be taking you and takes her name and number to give to the nurses as your contact.

They whisk you off right in front of Mapi’s eyes.

Your body is white, you look so lifeless.

Once you’re gone, Mapi closes the door to your bathroom, she can’t look in there, not at the raw amount of evidence that you’ve left behind. It’s already all over her body, she doesn’t need to see anymore of it.

She sits down on your tight sheets, and she realises that there is a piece of paper sitting at the edge of your bed, a letter.

Mapi cries when she sees it, she lets it all out.

It’s addressed to Alexia and Mapi doesn’t need to read it to know what it’s intention was, what your intentions were, if it wasn’t already confirmed then this only assures it.

Mapi leaves red finger prints on it, picking it up and collecting some of your clothes from your wardrobe before leaving your apartment.

Alexia clicks on Mapi’s contact with so much fear coursing through her body, she’s praying that it’s not here mami, not when Alexia is away.

“Ale-Alexia, thank god you picked up, gracias a dios.”

Mapi’s voice is quivering, Alexia’s not sure if she’s ever heard her voice like that before.

“Maria, what’s wrong? Why did you call so many times?”

There is a sob on the other end of the line, and Alexia starts to pray, to any god that whatever Mapi is about to tell her isn’t going to be bad, she can’t handle bad news right now.

“She was supposed to be sleeping, I was so sure she was sleeping. There was so much blood, I thought, I didn’t think there was enough blood in a person’s veins but there was so much of it, it just kept leaking out of her.”

Alexia’s heart and stomach are at her feet, she clutches for a wall, a solid form that she can rely on so that she doesn’t collapse.

“Who, Maria, who? What are you talking about, where are you?”

There is another sob, a deep sob, like Mapi’s being tortured.

“Y/n, I went to visist her like you’d asked, an-and she was, I thought she was dead.”

Alexia heart feels like it’s on a rollercoaster, like it’s returned to a normal level for a second, before plummeting even deeper.

“What do you mean Maria, what are you talking about.”

Somebody in the group must have realised Alexia’s discomposure, because she can feel a group of eyes on her, like everybody is trying to figure out what is happening on the other end of the phone.

“She left a letter, she-she I thought she was dead Ale, why would somebody do that to themselves? Why would she want to do that to herself.”

Alexia is aware that Mapi is clearly in some kind of post-traumatic state, that it’s going to be hard to get to the bottom of this but she’s managed to string the details together. From what Mapi’s said, you’re still alive, but it can’t be good, not by how Mapi has made it sound.

“Maria, I need you to listen to me. Where are you? Where is she? What is wrong with her.”

Alexia can hear Mapi trying to take some deep breaths on the other side of the line, somewhere in the crowd Ingrid is pushed forward, looking at Alexia with so much confusion. Mapi doesn’t often have anxiety or panic attacks, but if she were, Ingrid is certain that she would be the first person for Mapi to call, yet she’s received none.

“I-I’m at the hospital with her, she’s been moved to the ICU, I haven’t seen her yet but the nurses told me they had to perform CPR in the ambulance and that she was rushed to surgery when she got here. She’s been stable since but she’s in critical condition.”

Alexia doesn’t know what to do, she wants to be with you.

“Maria, I’m going to hand you off to Ingrid okay, talk to her, let her calm you down. I’m going to talk to the staff and try and figure out a way for me to come home, talk to Ingrid, okay?”

Ingrid looks confused but takes the phone from Alexia regardless, allowing Alexia to walk towards the staff, her face sullen and body hurting from the pressure of all of this.

Mapi thinks you look worse, somehow.

All of the wires and cords and the bags and needles make your body look wrong. Nobody should need so many weird connections, yet considering the state you were in Mapi is oddly comforted by it all, she wants you to be getting as much help as your body needs.

She still got your blood on her, one of the nice nurses had helped her to wash it off her hands and arms, and Mapi had stolen one of your sweatshirts she’d haphazardly grabbed as a replacement for her shirt, but she can still feel it on her body.

She’s been sitting in the same chair since the nurses let her in to your room, it’s next to the window, so when Mapi feels compelled to cry, or can’t handle looking at your body any longer because it gives her a flashback, she looks out the window at the bustling city of Barcelona below her and it oddly comforts her. Life goes on, everyone elses life goes on, but yours almost didn’t.

Her mind goes to dark places thinking about the what if she hadn’t of come to check on you? Mapi knows the answer to that question, even a few minutes later and your body would have been even more lifeless then when Mapi found it, except maybe instead of most of life being drained from you, all of it would have been.

They still don’t know for sure what it’s going to look like when you wake up, Mapi was hardly paying attention when the doctors came to talk to her, they were speaking so many words that Mapi couldn’t even pretend to know the meaning of. She remembers bits and pieces, the parts that she knew she’d have to remember in case Alexia called again and wanted an update.

You’d lost a lot of blood but they were working to try and replenish it, you’d needed nearly 100 stitches all together, the scars were all about 6 inches long and just almost ½ and inch deep. You didn’t hit any major arteries or veins, but you grazed one of them and that was most likely why you bled so much. Your blood might have not clotted because of the antidepressants in your system potentially mixed with the ibuprofen you were taking for your ankle. They don’t know when you are going to wake up but they emphasise you sleeping isn’t a bad thing because you’re body is getting the rest that it needs to repair itself.

Mapi doesn’t understand the measurements or the way medications work, she knows your body needs rest but she also desperately just wants you to wake up. Selfishly, even if it’s just for a second so that she knows that you are okay, so that she can stop blaming herself for killing you. She’s always going to somewhat blame herself for this, but you dying would be the straw that broke the camels back.

Alexia doesn’t think the whole way back to Barcelona, the staff managed to get her on the last flight out of the night, with Ingrid.

They both don’t say a word after Alexia briefs Ingrid on what she learnt from Mapi on the phone, it’s nowhere near enough information and it leaves Alexia’s brain stumbling, she’s so uncertain of everything.

There is a chauffeur waiting for them at the airport which takes them straight to the hospital, Alexia doesn’t even pretend to be flattered when the reception staff immediately know who she is and takes her straight to your room. She has one concern. Everything else is just background noise to her.

Seeing you makes Alexia feel sick, literally, it’s a few seconds before she feels the bile rising. It’s been building for hours now and she rushes into the bathroom adjacent to your room and ungracefully let’s her stomach go directly into the toilet bowl.

Once she’s done and she feels less like her heart is going to fall out of her throat she gets up and puts on a brave face, walking back into your room.

Mapi has tears streaming down her face, Ingrid is trying to talk to her but Alexia can tell that none of it is getting through to her.

“Mapi, what happened?”

Alexia wants to know, she needs to know, she needs to know how you got here.

Mapi is shaking, her whole body, it’s almost scary the way that her body vibrates against the chair she’s sitting in.

“I-I went to check in on her, dios mios, it was so cold, she was-she-.”

Ingrid stops Mapi.

“Alexia, we can do this later, she can’t handle this right now.”

Ingrid looks as terrified as Alexia feels, but her fear is for Mapi, it makes sense, Mapi is the love of her life. Alexia doesn’t think she’s entitled to the same fear, she let you go.

“No-no, she wants to know.”

It’s clear that every word is pulling Mapi further and further apart, but she pushes through.

“I-I just needed to see her, I went through all the rooms until I got to her bathroom.”

She lets out a sob before continuing.

“There was so much blood, it was all coming from her arm, I tried my best, I tried my best.”

Mapi sobs again, this time it’s so deep and guttural that Alexia is so horrified about what is to come.

“I tried to stop it. She was supposed to be sleeping, I thought she was just sleeping. She was unconscious, blood everywhere, and it just kept coming, it wouldn’t stop. I tried my best.”

Ingrid is murmuring words into Mapi’s ear, Alexia doesn’t know what to say, she actually can’t think of a single word to say.

“I called the ambulance, but she coded in the ambulance, they had to give her so many stitches, so much blood.”

Mapi keeps repeating the same words, over and over again, like it’s a mantra.

Alexia needs to stop it, for her bestfriends sake.

She walks to the otherside of the room, gently pushing Ingrid to the side so she can squat down in front of Mapi.

“Maria look at me. You did your best, you saved her life. You are no more to blame for this then anybody else is. You did so well, she’s alive because of you, she is breathing and sitting in front of us because of you. You did that.”

Mapi doesn’t look like she believes Alexia, but it’s a reprieve from whatever trance she was in.

“How about you and Ingrid go and get something to eat, I’ll stay here with her, if anything happens I’ll call you, okay?”

Mapi looks apprehensive to get up, but Alexia watches Ingrid give her a look and it’s the first time since Alexia’s walked into this room that she sees a little bit of normality return to Mapi’s face.

“Sh-she left you a letter. I think you should read it.”

Mapi pushes it into Alexia’s hands like it’s poisonous.

“Thank you Mapi, I will, go and take a break.”

Alexia presses a kiss to Mapi’s hand, before moving to allow Ingrid to help her up. Mapi is uneasy on her feet and for a second Alexia thinks she might collapse or vomit. She eventually finds her footing though and follows Ingrid out of the room.

Alexia looks down at the letter.

It’s got dried blood finger prints on it, she presumes from Mapi, it secures all of this in some weird way. This is all actually happening.

Alexia takes her time opening it, this is tangible evidence of all of this and a part of Alexia wants nothing more then for it to disappear, so she can pretend none of this has happened.

She wasn’t even there for it, she can’t imagine what Mapi went through, she already feels like every part of her has been stripped away with this.

She feels like she’s an imposter in this all, she doesn’t know what to do.

You’ve never expressed to her anything about family or parents, she doesn’t think it would be right to call them without your permission. She wants to call her own mami but that feels a bit silly, although she knows somehow her mami would give her all the right advice. She doesn’t want to talk about any of it though, it feels wrong. This is such a personal issue, she doesn’t even think she should know about it, she doesn’t have any right considering that Alexia could have very well contributed to this whole issue.

The letter is white, off white possibly, it’s hard to tell with the harsh fluorescent lighting.

The marks that would have been bright red at some stage have faded to a dull reddish brown, it’s imprinted deep into the paper.

Alexia flips it over, gently opening the seal with her fingernail and letting the flap open up.

The paper inside is the same colour, except even though she can only see the flip side it’s clear that there is black scrawl all over it.

Alexia could make it disappear, act like she read it, it would make it all so much easier, it would save her a lot of emotions that she really doesn’t feel prepared to feel. But she doesn’t get to make that decision, she needs to read this, for you and for her.

Dear Alexia,

If you’re reading this then chances are I’m already gone, if I’m not then something went wrong and for that I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that any of this was about you, or that you or anybody else was responsible. I made this decision, I’ve been thinking about this long before you came and I would have spent everyday thinking about it, no action or intervention would have changed that.

I don’t know how to explain it, but life is different for me. I don’t experience things the same way, I don’t get happy when I spend time with friends, I don’t get happy when it’s sunny outside. I’ve tried it all, I’ve tried to make it work, tried to live life in my body. I think a part of me was always separate though, and as much as I’ve tried to make it work there is no point in trying to fix something that is always going to be broken.

Being with you was the first time that my brain felt quiet, that I kind of felt the experience of happiness that everyone else feels. You made it all better, everything with you felt better, it felt normal. All I ever wanted was to be a normal person, and you made me feel like that. It’s not fair of me to be saying that, you deserved better then me, it wasn’t fair for me to burden you with all of this shit. Fucked up is never not fucked up, you can’t uncrumple a crumpled piece of paper, it will always be creased. I want you to know that I didn’t do this to you, i did this for you. It wasn’t fair weighing you down, I know it wasn’t easy for you when we broke up, you deserve to focus on football. You deserve to have a good life, you deserve to be free. I don’t want you to feel bad, I don’t want you to feel like you’re responsible. Live your life, be happy, for me, experience it all, because I couldn’t.

I’m not myself anymore, although I don’t think I ever was myself. It always kind of feels like i’ve been different people in my own body, and this time i couldn’t handle it. I don’t want to feel devoid anymore, I want to be free. My identity has always been identified as being a good footballer, a great footballer, and I don’t even think I can say that I am that anymore. I am nothing, want to be nothing.

I’m sorry I never loved you back in the same way, I’m sorry I never reciprocated the endless graciousness and love tha you gave me. The smiles, the effort, the constant love, it was wasted on me and my biggest regret in life will be letting you waste it on me. It wasn’t fair, it’ll never be fair, because I loved you back and that perhaps was the most selfish act I’ve ever committed.

I’m sorry, there aren’t enough words that I could use to tell you just how sorry I am. I’m sorry that I burdened you with me, I’m sorry that I let myself be cared for by you, I’m sorry that you have to read this.

I’m sorry.

There wouldn’t have ever been anything I could have done to repair it, I didn’t want to live knowing that I would forever be in debt to you for this. I hope that eventually you will find peace in this, that some good will finally come of me.

Goodbye.

There are tears all over the page by the time Alexia gets to the bottom of the letter, she actually can’t comprehend what she’s just read, she swears that her mind must be playing tricks on her. Why would you think all of those things? What made you think all of those things?

Alexia feels sick again.

Did she make you feel that way? Did she make you feel like you weren’t deserving of living?

There are so many questions circulating her brain, and she doesn’t have a answer for a single one of them, because she doesn’t know. Suicide was your only option, one that could have been very permanent, it makes Alexia’s head swim. You believed that your only option to make it all stop was death. You found a permanent solution to something that Alexia’s considers a potentially temporary situation, had you reached out, had you tried to find help. She can’t criticise you, she can’t even begin to comprehend how hard it would be living as you have, and then having to try and talk to somebody else about that. A part of her wishes you had though, because maybe it would have saved her beind here.

Your body is the exact same it was the last time Alexia looked at you, but for some reason you feel different.

Alexia reaches out for your hand, it’s the arm that’s not covered in bandages. Your hands are cold, but she tries to ignore it. She focuses on the feeling of movement underneath her own hand, it’s the only real tangible proof she has that you are here with her, that you are alive.

Sure there is a beeping heart monitor, and other signs, but she just wants to feel you.

She holds your hand, because she swears that she’ll slip away. Alexia doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know how to help you but she promises herself that she’s going to be here, that she isn’t ever going to let you experience life the same way that you did without her being there for you.

—————————————————————

thoughts appreciated …. part 2?

another reminder that if you ever need anybody to talk to i am here, your life is worth living, you are worth it all. <3

[writtenbymoonflower]

hey lovey!! 💐 I just wanted to say I ADORE ur writing & I'm currently binge reading all of them <⁠(⁠///￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠///)⁠>. but I did want to request something silly, since I've been thinking about poly!marauders being with the reader. and her calling them "girl" accidentally instead of their usual endearment 😭. and the reason is because her friends use it a lot and it just kind of rubbed off on her ?! I would just like to imagine their confusion 😭 anyways pls have a lovely day/night <33

I love this! Also sorry this took so long. I left my computer charger at home while I was at uni but I got it back!

wc 710

You were laid on the settee, still slightly sweaty from your hot walk back from class. You would’ve reached for Sirius if you didn’t think you would make his clothes damp as well. He was doing some kind of work on his computer next to you while James was in the kitchen fixing you both something to eat. These little quiet moments were sometimes your favorite, just being comfortable in each others silence. Especially considering how your boyfriends could be such chatterboxes.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t enjoy rambling to them, though. You just didn’t feel the need to fill comfortable space with flippant comments. You were almost asleep when you heard the click of the door being unlocked.

Remus stepped inside in his usual meticulous way, hanging his coat neatly on the coatrack, unlacing his shoes and lining them up by the door rather than kicking them off, and placing his crossbody bag carefully on the bench by the door. All before calling out a gentle “I’m home.”

“How was work, love?” James responded from the kitchen, scrubbing his hands in the sink.

“Long.” He groaned. “I’m going to shiv Michael. His unplanned vacation is really disrupting my schedule.” He grumbled. “Going to have to catch up on my classes too.” He sighed, more resigned than annoyed.

“Want me to go to your work when he’s back and give him a hard time?” Sirius said mischievously, beckoning the sandy-haired boy over.

Remus just chuckled softly in response before kissing him on the top of the head. He turned to you, face etched with exhaustion and affection. “How was class today, dovey? Did I miss anything?”

You reached for his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Nothing important. It was just a catch up day.”

He hummed in satisfaction, reaching to stroke your jaw. You leaned into his touch sleepily before your eyes popped open and you jolted upright.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost forgot to tell you. Girl, you will not believe what Molly said to me today. I-“ You were cut off by a surprised, if not amused look on Remus’ face and a barking laugh from the kitchen.

“Excuse me, what?” James choked.

You turned around, looking at him confused. “What?”

Sirius was also smiling, holding back a laugh. “What did you just say to Moons?”

You paused, eyebrows raised in confusion. “I said that he wouldn’t believe what Molly-“

“No no no.” James chuckled, cutting you off. “What you said before that.” At your continued bewilderment he clarified. “Angel, you called Remus ‘girl’. Did you not mean to?”

At the realization on your face Sirius breaks down. Shaking with nearly silent laughter. Remus’ eyes just roll into the back of his head, clearly amused but not willing to put on a spectacle.

“Sorry Rem.” You said, sheepishly. “It was unconscious.”

“Unconscious!” Sirius hoots. “Is that what you call us in your head, gorgeous? Are we your gal pals?”

“I think we are. I didn’t realize this was a girl’s gossip sesh in, lovely.” James teased. “I would’ve bought ice cream and wine.”

“The two of you.” Remus admonished, looking at your still shy expression with terrible kindness. “You don’t need to apologize, dove. It was just funny. You’ve never been one to say that before.”

“Not to you.” You said quietly. “I’ve just been talking to my friends a lot lately-“

“You don’t have to defend it. We want you to talk to your friends.” James jumped in to comfort you.

“I’m glad you consider us your friends, baby.” Sirius said, half kindness and half joke. “It shows that you’re comfortable with us.”

“I am.” You reiterated. “But I won’t call you it if it upsets you.” You said sincerely.

“It hardly bothers me, dovey.” Remus reached over to squeeze your hand.

“I just can’t believe Remus is the girly.” James chuckled, forcing his face into a pout. “I’m offended, sweet thing. I thought I was your gossip buddy.”

“You are!” You said severely. “You all are.” You reached for your other two boys. “Now can I please tell you what Molly said?”

“Of course, girl. Spill the beans.” Remus said, deadpan.

It took you a while to stop laughing before you could continue the story.

[missnxthingg]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 7.2 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing and smut! (skip if you want to) 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - One more chapter to go and I REALLY hope this one is like... me predicting the future 🤞 And if you want to skip the smut part, I put it on italics, so don't worry about missing it!

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

Race weekends in Zandvoort always make Y/N very anxious, because everyone knew the owner of the house is Max Verstappen. No driver had such power over the crowd of fans on the grandstands of the Netherlands than the leader of Red Bull Racing. But this year, the sea of orange – that most definitely weren’t for McLaren this time – was the last thing making her nervous.

Her relationship with Lando had barely started, and this would be the first race they attended as an official couple, even though not a lot of people really know about it. On the past week, they took their time to enjoy the last days of summer break and enjoy being together. But now, they were finally stepping out of the safeness of their home to start going out into the public as a couple. People would start to acknowledge their relationship.

It wasn’t the type of thing you tell through the internet to close people around you. Lando got to tell his best friends, including Max, through one last golfing session before the break was over. Y/N revealed to her parents once they came around to stay with Olivia for the weekend, so she could work. But their team and the public didn’t really know about it, and it was making her more nervous than anything in life.

“Fuck me, this is hard”, she cursed as she stepped into the paddock with the sensation that everyone had their eyes on her, as if she had a big bad secret to tell them all.

“Y/N, meeting with the drivers in fifteen”, Steve, her boss, called once he spotted her walking past him. That would be the first time she would be in the same room with her boyfriend and their entire team after summer break, and she was nervous, because she knew Lando wouldn’t behave around them.

As much as Y/N was being careful to protect their relationship from everyone, he didn’t really care who knew about them. And of course the first thing he did when she entered the McLaren motorhome was press a long kiss to her cheek.

People around them frowned. Not that they didn’t know about Lando and Y/N close friendship, it was just that they rarely showed their affection for each other inside the work environment – except for big racing achievements.

“Morning, baby”, he mumbled, pulling her for a hug before the start of the meeting. Lando had left the hotel earlier for training with Jon, so they still hadn’t seen each other today. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m a little anxious, but it was alright”, she kept her voice low as they had their casual and wholesome conversation in the corner, ignoring people’s staring. “And you?”

“I always sleep well next to you”, he winked before pulling a chair for her to seat at their meeting room. 

Everyone around them wanted to say something about what they were seeing. And surprising enough, Oscar was the first one to address the elephant in the room, after ten minutes of Lando and Y/N pretending it was all just the same.

“You two are together, aren’t you?”, the Australian asked, and Y/N had to hide her face between her hands in order to hide her embarrassment as well. “Fucking knew it”.

“We just started dating”, Lando started, ignoring the entire conversation they were having a minute ago about the press conference he was going to participate.

“And I was waiting for the right moment to tell you all, but Mr Norris can’t keep his hands to himself”, Y/N completed, making her boyfriend chuckle with the response.

“You all owe me dinner”, Zak stated, making the entire team laugh and the couple frown at their reactions. “We all knew you’ve been together since Miami. We were just waiting for the time you made it official”.

“See! I told you weren’t careful with your hugging and kissing around the paddock”, Y/N smacked Lando’s bicep, making him hiss in pain. “Great, this definitely not how I wanted everyone to find out about this”.

“But it isn’t so bad, is it?”, Lando questioned, not only the team, but Y/N as well. “You don’t need to be afraid about this being public”.

Y/N glanced at him and her eyes said it all, that the conversation still wasn’t over, because there were things she wanted to say away from everyone else. But she continued with her discourse: “If you think this is unprofessional or that it will mess with his PR, I can step away from the team”.

“Nonsense”, Zak laughed, joined by her other boss. “If anything, you make his PR better. And people absolutely love you as well. So as long as it doesn’t mess with the team results, I don’t see a problem with you staying with McLaren, Y/N”.

“And you two have always been very professional whenever you’re wearing papaya. So we know you’ll continue being respectful at work”.

It still didn’t make Y/N relax that now everyone knew about them. She still had hundreds of thoughts about people knowing about their relationship, because she had lived through Lando’s past relationships, to which the public had made sure to ruin with their online activity.

“Is that why you’re anxious?”, he asked once they were alone in his driver’s room, and she voiced her concerns to her boyfriend. “Y/N, I love you. And this time, I don’t think anyone will have the ability to ruin this for us, not even online haters”.

“But…”, she tried to justify her worries once again, but she ran out of breath, having to take a seat on his tiny couch to breathe. Lando sat next to her and held her hands between his, so they could have a heart-to-heart conversation.

“I know relationships are scary, especially one so public like ours, but I promise you that I will do anything to protect you. To protect us”, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile for a second. “And I don’t want to hide you, my love. You know I’ve never wanted to do this”.

“I still worry a lot about what people will think about this”, she admitted, and he understood her side. “I’m a single mother. I’m a coworker. You know exactly what some people think about me. All of this can turn out to be very bad for us”.

“I can assure you that people whose opinion matters will not care about any of this”, he said, letting one of his hands find her cheek, where he rubbed his thumb in comfort. “I love you. Nothing will ever change this”.

“I love you too”.

Y/N found it funny how much trusting someone can make you more confident with time. After that conversation with Lando, she wasn’t afraid of telling people anymore. So when she learned that he had told his parents, when both showed up for the race in Zandvoort, she didn’t worry about their reaction – which was really good, for that matter.

“Now I can finally admit it to you, Y/N. I’ve always rooted for you and Lando”, Cisca said to her, as they watched one of his free practices together. “I was the first person to know he was in love with you, by the way. Mothers always know, and you’ll see it”.

“Did he tell you first?”

“Yes”, she smiled softly.”When he was twenty. But I knew it before any words came out of his mouth. He has been down bad for you since you met, and I could see it in his eyes. So I’m glad he finally got the girl of his dreams.

“I’m glad too”, Y/N smiled at Cisca before taking a quick glance at the television in the garage. Lando had just set the best time on the session, taking the first position on the grid. “You know, I was nervous about people’s reactions. Specially those who are very important to him”.

“Worried about what, my love?”

“That people would think I’m only using him”, Y/N admitted. “I know what people say about me online. While some people think our friendship is really cute, others think I’m only using him for his money to raise my daughter. But I swear that I’m not”.

“Well, I know that you’re not using him. And so does Adam, his siblings, Max, your friends. Everyone that matters know you’re with him because you love him. And they know that everything Lando does for you and Olivia is because he loves you too”.

“Yeah, he told me that”, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile. “And all my insecurities went away”.

“And by the way, it’s always funny to see a little girl bossing him around like I saw in Silverstone”, Cisca laughed, remembering all the times she saw then interact at his home race. “He loves her so much, since she was born, you know? He has always said that his biggest wish was to be the father Olivia never had. And I think he’ll be just great doing that”.

“I think so too”, Y/N admitted. “He has been taking care of us for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t have named a better godfather for Ollie. He said to me that he wanted to be in this position for her, and so far, he’s been great at owning up to his words”.

“I’m glad I taught him very well to do that”, his mother laughed. “So don’t worry about people. Everyone that actually matters will always have your back”.

“Thank you, Cisca. It means a lot, really”.

While it made things easier for Y/N to accept being public with Lando, letting things flow naturally, his ‘PR problem’ ass wasn’t helping on keeping it a secret from anyone. Because of the amazing weekend he was having, he didn’t really care if anyone saw his affection towards his girlfriend. Starting from pole, he arrived at the paddock on the weekend and immediately found her so they could walk with his arm around her shoulder, right in front of all the photographers and fans.

“I swear to God that if you end up exposing us too soon, or in the wrong way, I’m going to kill you”, she whispered. “Or worse, I’m going to break up with you”.

“That’s definitely worse, babe. At least I would’ve died knowing you were my girlfriend”, he giggled, pulling her inside the motorhome, away from everyone’s eyes. “And people need to start getting used to us being a couple. I don’t want to hide you to the world. You’re my girlfriend and I want everyone to know”.

“Lando, please, we talked about this…”, she started, but he silenced her with a kiss. Lucky enough, they were alone inside the motorhome, a rare occasion on Sundays. “For fuck’s sake!”

“If I win today, will you let me hard launch us?”, he asked, making her roll her eyes. “I mean, does it matter if we do a soft or a hard launch? Everyone has always rooted for us. And I think that if I win, then it’s the Universe giving us a go”.

“Lando, you’re on fucking pole. There’s a very big chance you end up winning today”.

“But you very much know that pole position has never guaranteed me anything”, he joked, knowing very much about his reputation with race starts. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Alright. If you win today, then I’ll let you tell everyone about us. But if you don’t win, then we’re doing things my way”, she pointed a finger at his face, making Lando open his signature boyish smile before taking her hand away from his face and pulling her for another kiss. 

“Deal”, he winked, already thinking he would do anything in his power to make sure he won today. He didn’t care who he would have to take off the race to get a chance at winning, he had to get this win for them both.

Later that day, when Lando lost the lead before the first corner, Y/N thought she had her answer for the day. Of course, Max Verstappen would win in his home race, it was obvious. But when he easily overtook him and finished the race twenty-second ahead of the three time world champion, she knew the Universe was throwing a big message at their faces.

She sighed in defeat when Lando opened the last lap, and teared up when he finally crossed the finishing line, so proud of his achievement. It was the green light they’ve been waiting for so long in their relationship. Then, she got to hear the last radio message of the race through her headphones, through the cooldown lap, one that made her laugh.

“Tell Y/N that a deal is a deal”, Lando said. “She’ll understand it”.

She shook her head in disbelief, but was already accepting that this was happening. The whole world was about to know about them. So she joined his parents to wait for Lando at the parc fermé, and they all cheered a lot when he parked his bright papaya McLaren in the winner’s position. He rushed his way out of the car and jumped into his team's arms, eyes already looking for Y/N through his visor. After the weighting, he finally removed his helmet and rushed to his girlfriend. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a big kiss in front of everyone. In front of every camera, every journalist and every fan present on the track. He didn't care about anyone or anything else, just about this girl.

“A deal is a deal”, he whispered against her lips, making her entire face burn in embarrassment.

“When you said ‘hard launch’, I thought you meant an Instagram story with a cute caption”.

“Uhm… not really my way of doing things”, he shrugged with a smile, moving onto his parents, who were excitedly waiting for their turn to hug him. It felt so good to have family there to cheer for him. This race, after so many bad ones, didn't feel so lonely.

But as much as Lando just wanted to be with his family, he still had a lot of duties to do after the race, including the podium celebration and the media duties afterwards. He still couldn’t get his hands off Y/N, always having his arms wrapped around her somehow as they walked along the paddock to everywhere he was required to be.

“If someone gets mad about the hard launch, I’m putting it into your account, alright?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine and me winning proves that. We let the Universe decide the timing for us and it did”, he shrugged. “I’m just happy to finally tell everyone that you’re mine”

“Did you push your car to the limit just to win the race for us?”, she frowned.

“Wish I could say I did, but the McLaren was a rocketship today. It really was just faith”, he assured with a smile. "Every piece of this puzzle fell perfectly into place. Now we just have to enjoy it”.

Of course, the entire media wanted to know about this. Normally, some vehicles don’t get too much into the drivers’ personal lives, but since Lando kissed her in the middle of the track, right after winning a race, it would be interesting for them to have a quote about who’s the mysterious girl wearing a McLaren shirt that he kissed in the middle of the track. The journalists all knew her, since Y/N was always by Lando’s side through every media duty, but the world was about to really get to know her.

“I don’t have a lot to say about that”, Lando shrugged when one of the reporters asked about the kiss. “I won, and I was happy, and I kissed my girlfriend who was there to celebrate it with me. Not a big deal at all, except or the fact that now everyone knows she’s my girlfriend”, he chuckled.

Y/N, who was standing right next to him holding her own microphone to record all the conversations for McLaren, felt like she was about to burst into flames for embarrassment. She could only imagine the internet burning up videos and comments as well. Maybe she should stay away from social media for a couple of days.

“So McLaren’s golden boy is no longer single now?”, the reporter asked.

“Yeah”, Lando giggled. “And they say I got no rizz. Yet, I got the most perfect girl to cheer for me at every race”.

Later that day, after all the team celebrations and his duties with the media team, they left the paddock hand in hand, right next to his parents. Lando didn’t want it to be a big celebration this time, because there was no point for it. He just wanted to have dinner with his family and enjoy the rest of the night with Y/N.

“I think I’m having déjà vu from Miami”, he whispered in her ear as they approached his car, making Y/N laugh. “Come on, I’m serious”.

“As if you weren’t going to get it”, Y/N joked. “And I think it will be good to finally have some time alone for once. I love Ollie, but I think we deserve some time alone for now”.

“We’re already behaving like an old married couple”, he chuckled, and lowered his voice once again. “But yeah, it will be nice to not be quiet for once”.

“You’re pathetic”, she laughed, but deep down he knew she agreed with him.

The dinner celebration was filled with laughter and joy, with both of them having a fun meal with Adam and Cisca, who were getting to see them as a couple for the first time in their lives. They expressed how much they were glad to finally see them together, loving to see the smile on their son’s face for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you for taking care of him, Y/N”, Adam said, as they were saying their goodbyes after dinner. The couple would be leaving for England tonight. “You have always taken care of him, but I know this time is different. I know you make him the happiest”.

“It’s so easy to love your son”, she admitted. “So you don’t have to thank me. I have to thank you for raising such a good man”.

“Stop! I’m blushing over here”, Lando commented as he hugged his mother. “You silly idiots love me, I know. I love you all, too”.

He was over the moon with the ending of this weekend. When they arrived back at the hotel, Lando couldn't stop kissing Y/N. She tried making her skincare routine, taking off the uncomfortable clothes to slip into bed, but he kept kissing her neck as she brushed her teeth.

“You look so beautiful tonight”, he complimented, his lips close to her ear, as she felt her entire body shiver with his contact. Y/N was wearing a see-through nightgown that she packed specially for this trip, because she knew that no matter the result, they would be alone at night for the first time in a while. 

His hands ran through her entire body and Lando was surprised to see she wasn't wearing any underwear when he put his hands under her dress. He gasped when they found her unclothed core.

“Oh my God, you're getting reckless”, he giggled, turning her around as she put her arms around his neck. “Am I taking you down the wrong path?”

“I've always been like this, muppet. Now, you get to see this new side of me”, she nudged his nose, making him smile brightly. 

“I like this new side of you”, he pecked her lips once again before pulling her out of the bathroom.

Lando and Y/N were loving to take their time together, instead of sneaking around the house and not taking too long to have sex because of Olivia. But now they didn't have a little girl to bother them in such intimate moments. They savoured each other's lips and enjoyed moments of silence, filled only and exclusively by their kisses noises.

She palmed him through his pants during the kiss, making Lando moan between their lips. Y/N felt him growing hard, so she slipped a hand inside his trousers, making him moan louder this time.

“Baby”, he called as she started massaging his cock. “Fuck, don’t stop”.

“I wasn't planning to”.

Y/N turned him around, straddling his hips, only to easily take his shirt off. While she didn't work his cock with her hand, her hips were doing their job as they made out a little more.

“Do you want to take my nightie off?”, she asked, and Lando quickly nodded, pulling the dress off her body, making his lips immediately find her nipples. Y/N rocked her hips against his, doing circular movements, as she felt him harder than a rock under her core.

“Please, I need you”, he asked, throwing his head back into the pillow with the pressure on his cock.

“I got you, my love”.

Y/N started kissing down his chest, paying attention to his nipples as well, knowing everything in his body was highly sensitive at the moment. She lowered her kisses to his belly, until her lips found the hem of his trousers and boxers. She darted her eyes up, meeting him halfway, as she provoked him with the kisses. When she managed to pull off his last pieces of clothes that were keeping them apart, her hands immediately found a grip on his cock.

“So beautiful”, she complimented, making him blush under her comment. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, my love”.

She lowered her head to get closer to his cock, swirling her tongue around his tip. Her eyes looked up and they found Lando's, who was attentively watching her every move. His hands brushed through her tongue and soon gathered her hair in a ponytail, taking it out of the way so he could see her better.

Y/N found it very hot when she finally put him inside her mouth and Lando let out a surprisingly loud moan. She bobbed her head up and down, his noises only making her keep going with her job. Eventually, he started thrusting his hips into her mouth a little, desperately chasing for his high. But afraid of hurting his girlfriend, he kept his strength to himself.

“I don't want you to hold back”, Y/N said, popping his dick out of her mouth, still stroking him with her hands. “Tonight, I want to feel everything, please”.

“Fuck, you're driving me insane”, Lando sat straight, and pulled her into a kiss, tasting a little bit of himself on her mouth. “Get on your knees on the floor, beautiful”.

Y/N did as she was told, and he stood up from the bed, putting a hand on the base of his cock and using the other one to caress her face.

“Open your mouth, baby girl”, he brushed the tip of his dick through her lips as she looked up so innocently at him. But then she opened it wide, knowing he had a big cock, so she could take all of him. “My good girl. Gonna take all of me in your mouth, uhm? Don't want me to hold back?”

Lando’s cock was already deep inside her throat and Y/N tried her best not to gag at how big he was. He only stopped with the rough pace when he felt his dick spilling cum inside her throat, panting her on the inside with a little piece of him. Once he was empty, Lando left her mouth open on the floor and paid attention to the white liquid on her tongue, to which she swallowed as she looked up at him.

“Fucking hell”, he cursed, pulling her back up so he could kiss her again. “You're so fucking sexy, my girl. You did so good”.

“Now please do something to help me, because I'm dripping”.

Lando had gone a little soft again, but with a little more time, he would be ready to go again. This only gave him more time to make Y/N enjoy herself. And after weeks discovering her body like the palm of his hand, he knew exactly what she liked him to do.

“Come on, I'll take care of my good girl, because she's been so good today”, he pressed kisses to her cheek before shoving her back to bed. If she wanted it rough, she would have it. And Y/N loved when he altered between soft and dom in bed.

She could feel his thick fingers working in circles on her clit as he intensively flipped, bite, sucked and kissed her nipples, one of the most sensitive areas of her body. 

“I want to try something different today”, he said, pulling a shirt from the floor and wrapping it around her eyes, as some sort of blindfold. Then, he took a little surprise out of his bag; handcuffs, to which she only found out when he felt the coldness of the metal against the skin of her wrists, tying her arms to the headboard. Now, her senses were solely focused on touching.

“You're being so bold today”.

“I know how to obey my girlfriend when she says she doesn't want me to hold back”, he shrugged, making her entire body shiver with only the words.

Lando was quiet for a moment, and it seemed like he went somewhere else in the room, taking a very long time before he did anything to her, leaving her naked in bed, legs wide open for his pleasure. Then suddenly, she felt fingers doing circles on her clit again, this time taking the slowest time to provoke her. Then she felt his hot tongue going through her cunt, which made her moan loudly. But the licking was just a spoiler, and the entrance plate was his fingers, who started pumping in and out of her roughly, then curling at the right spot inside of her. It felt so good to the point she could feel her high coming and coming and…

Nothing. Lando pulled his fingers away from her, leaving her squirming alone in bed. She whined at the loss of contact and almost cried to have her orgasm ruined, not getting to do anything about it because of the handcuffs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Lando, I need to fucking cum ”, she cried. “Please, I'm so close”.

The next round, Lando settled between her legs and ate her pussy as if his life depended on it. Y/N wanted more than anything to see him going down on her, to touch his fluff hair that was brushing deliciously against her tights. The only thing she could do was lock him close to her with her tights. Still, it didn't keep him from pulling away just as she was about to reach her high again.

“What the fuck, Lando? Why are you doing this to me?”, she whined, missing the contact on her core, wanting her release. 

“Haven’t you heard of edging, baby?”, he asked. “I'm making sure you're good to cum as hard as you can when the time comes”.

"You're bad", she cried, making him smile at her, even though she couldn't see him at all. 

He squeezed her hips and reassured: "Trust me, you're gonna thank me for this later”

Lando softly brushed his fingers against her sensitive core, and Y/N bucked her hips towards his fingers, wanting nothing more than to feel something more. And he obeyed. For a good thirty minutes, he spent between her legs, edging her in ways he never thought he could. But one time, when he was already feeling his cock rock hard and ready to go again, he didn't pull away when he felt her pussy clenching around his fingers as he used his tongue to stimulate her clit.

Y/N came harder than she had ever done in her life, making Lando's face soaking wet. And still, he made sure to lick all of it, making her clean for the next step. When he came back from her tights and removed her blindfold, Lando had a smug smile on his face, proud of his work.

"God, you're soaked", she laughed, and then it dawned on her why his face was wet. "Oh God, did I…?”.

"Squirt? I think so", he said with a proud smile. "I didn't know you could do that”.

"I didn't know I could do that", Y/N admitted, making Lando smile wider. 

"Oh, I'm so proud of myself right now”, he laughed, running his thumb through his mouth to collect the rest of her juices, only to put it on his mouth to taste her again. 

“Ugh, men…”, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smirk, and watched him undo the ties on her wrists, making her arms finally come back down. “Thank God, I was sore”.

“Sorry, baby. Promise to go easy on you now”, he pressed a few kisses to her face, making her heart swell in adoration. How could this man be so sexy and cute at the same time?

“Uhm, I love you”, she ran her fingers through his hair, making him smile widely.

“I love you too”, their lips met in a sweet kiss, shifting the mood in the bedroom1

Lando pressed kisses to every inch of her skin and massaged her arms, making sure she was soothed and well rested for another round. And of course the massages turned into another heated makeout, that ended up with Lando positioned between her legs, their cores brushing together, as they slowly kissed in the calmness of their room.

“Wanna be inside you”, he mumbled, taking his cock once again and brushing the tip around his clit, making Y/N whimper.

"Please", she asked, making him push it inside her the next second. And even after all this time, YN still couldn't get over the feeling of having him stretching her in all sorts of good ways. And he was still surprised how they fitted like two puzzle pieces.

"So wet for me, baby. I prepared you well", Lando praised, smiling at the work he had done earlier. "I can go in so easy on you, fuck”.

Y/N refused to get away from Lando tonight, even though they always loved to try new positions. She just wanted to be close to him, be able to see his fare from up close, lean up and kiss him. She hugged his body and dug her fingers on the skin of his back, scratching him up.

“You feeling good, baby? Talk to me. What do you want?”, Lando asked and Y/N had to control her breathing to be able to talk to him.

"Harder, please", she put one of her hands between her legs to stimulate her clit, trying to chase her high once again. He caught her action and substituted her hand with his, picking up his pace.

"Holy fuck, you feel so good", he moaned. "God, I'm so lucky”.

"The luckiest", she smiled at him, loving to see him from that angle, eyes shut in pleasure and solely focusing on her body. The coat of sweat over his body and the flexing of his arms as he held her tightly only made him even more beautiful. She was so lucky too. 

"I'm close", he announced, but even though Y/N was feeling great, she still wasn't close to her high. 

"Switch", she asked, making Lando frown and drop his pace.

"What?”

"Switch positions, please”.

Lando likes to be on top, in control all the time, and so far, he has always been the one in control When he was with Y/N. Still, when she asked for this change, he didn't complain. Trying new things with her is always amazing.

And to be fair, he got on the verge of cumming when he saw her on top of him, now calling the shots, working on the pace that was best for her. Lando got a grip on her ass to help her steady and one of his hands helped stimulate her clit once again. 

"Now I'm close. Are you close, baby?”, she asked, but all Lando could do was nod and moan her name. 

It didn't take long until they reached their high and Y/N collapsed on top of him. Lando felt his cock going soft while still inside her, but they were too tired to move. She pressed a few tired kisses on his chest, making him smile at the gesture. It made his stomach fill with butterflies, like she has always done since they met.

"If a victory sex is amazing, I can only imagine what a championship sex will feel like", he said, making her chuckle.

"Absolutely amazing", she said. "So you better get that trophy for us”

"Don't know if I can do that, Y/N", he admitted. “I’m scared this might be my only chance and that I'm wasting it away, throwing victories like this on the trash. And that, in the future, I won't have the same opportunity once again”.

"Don't let these thoughts get to you, cause I know you're doing your best. And if you end up second place in the championship, it's alright too. I will love you no matter what. And we'll have an amazing vice championship sex in a nice hotel room in Abu Dhabi".

He smiled fondly at her response and started his aftercare routine immediately after, putting her in the shower, because they were a mess, while he changed the bed into spare sheets, so they could sleep somewhere clean. Soon he joined her on their quick shower, only to get back to bed once again to rest from their full day.

"I love you so much", he said, now that they were back to cuddling in bed. “You make me the happiest. I'm so lucky to have you in my life”.

"I love you too, baby. I love you and your random confessions of love", she kissed the tip of his nose, making his heart rush. "I love everything about you”.

"Even my flaws?”

"Even your flaws. And I'll be here with you until the end".

"Come on, baby. Let uncle Lando carry you”.

Olivia was sitting in the back of his car, sleepy to be woken up from her afternoon nappie before the race and not really in the mood to be around the paddock today. Sometimes, Y/N thinks she’s too much like Lando, who also absolutely hates to be woken up from his naps. It didn’t matter if they were, finally, in Abu Dhabi, anticipating not only their first December as a family, but also Norris’ great chances of winning the championship, to which he had managed to drag to the last race.

He wanted Ollie to be there for this one. Actually, his entire family was there to celebrate it with him; his siblings and nieces – who were all having a great time with Olivia –, his parents, his best friends; and, most importantly, both of the loves of his life, who have been his biggest support throughout the year.

Lando carried his goddaughter through the paddock, as she continued her nap on his shoulder. Y/N walked beside them, no longer scared of what the public would think. Even since their hard launching in Zandvoort, his fans have been nothing but supportive for their relationship. Who truly was his fan knew how much she and her daughter meant to him, so they defended the couple from any harm.

Also, Y/N stood beside him because she knew today would be a hard day. The championship was still at stake, and Lando would need all the support he could get from her. Since yesterday, when he got the last pole position of the season, he hasn't let go off her hand for a second; not even now, that they still had a long walk through the paddock with him carrying Ollie on his arm. Last night, they all cuddled together in bed, only for him to wake up surrounded by his favourite people.

“You good?”, Y/N asked once they were in his driver's room. Flo, one of his sisters, was there as well and would be keeping an eye on Ollie while they did their respective jobs on track.

“Yes”, Lando smiled at her. “I thought I would be more terrified and nervous, but I'm actually alright. Whatever has to happen, will happen”.

“That’s my boy”, Y/N pulled him for a kiss on the cheek, making him blush with the gesture. “Flo, are you alright here with Ollie? I promise she won't be out for long, and if she is, you can wake her up and go to the garage”.

“Don't worry about it, Y/N. Go do your jobs and I'll take care of my niece”, Flo winked at Lando, who blushed harder at the nickname, feeling a tingle of pride on his chest. Every reminder that he had the girl of his dreams beside him was enough to make him giggly like a little boy.

“Then off we go to those interviews, my boy”.

Lando had only a few pre-race interviews and media duties before getting to concentrate on the race. After that, he solely focused on getting calm, knowing everything about tonight was under his control.

“Someone wants to see you before you get in the car”, Cisca announced, entering the garage where her son was talking to his engineers, with Olivia in her arms. His eyes softened to see her, with a beautiful smile on his face.

“Good luck, uncle Lando”, she leaned into his arms and he easily got a grip of her tiny body, pulling her for a hug. He felt her lips pressing over and over again on his cheek, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

“Thank you. I love you so much, my sweet girl”, his voice bargained on his throat, but he was strong enough to contain his emotions.

Y/N was just passing through the garage when she saw the scene unfolding in front of her, so she rushed to join their hug, making Ollie giggle. Lando pulled his girlfriend for a sweet kiss as she smiled against his lips.

“Baby, I love you so much”, she said. “And I'll be cheering as much as I can with this little one right here”.

“I'm glad to have you both here. Tonight is a little more special because I have my entire family here. Nothing could ever beat this feeling”.

“Don't get emotional now, you wanker. Get in that car and make us proud!”, Y/N joked, making Lando laugh. 

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye. Hopefully with two trophies for us”, he pressed another kiss to Y/N's lips and one more on Ollie's forehead before giving the little girl back to her mother. “I love you”.

“I love you too, uncle Lan”.

Y/N could barely breathe once Lando was inside the car. She held tightly onto Olivia, who seemed to get the tense mood, not being the giggly and excited self whenever she was on a race track. But Norris did well, held his pole position perfectly, but it was still challenging for him to keep it throughout the race. Yet, on the last lap, he had an eight-second gap from P2 and was first to see the checkered flag. P1 – and fastest lap, as a bonus.

Lando Norris is a World Champion.

Y/N had been crying for the last ten laps of the race, knowing deep inside her that he was going to do this. The perfect race to end the perfect year. Olivia raised her spirits through the race as well, shouting for Lando and excitedly clapping her hands, jumping up and down, whenever he did good. Domination, from beginning to the end. What a way to win a championship.

Lando shouted a lot on the radio and celebrated it a lot when he was out of the car. But he only allowed himself to cry when he finally saw Y/N, crying at his achievement, clearly very emotional with the ending of the year. So many years battling for this moment, and yet here they are. It’s impossible not to get emotional at this. 

He held very tightly onto his girlfriend as they silently cried together, too emotional to even think about speaking. Y/N was the first one to break the silence, making Lando cry even more, dawning on him the achievement he just conquered.

“Congratulations, World Champion Lando Norris”, she whispered in his ear. “You finally did”.

“We finally did it”, he corrected, pulling back from the hug and holding her face between his hands. “We. I couldn’t have done it without you”.

“I love you so much”, she declared, pulling him for a kiss on the cheek, that made him smile widely. “I’m so proud of you, my love. You deserve all of this, all this glory, everything”.

“So do you”, he pecked her lips for a brief second and smile. “I love you too”.

“Uncle Lando!”, a little voice called from behind them, and Olivia was rushing towards him with Max right behind her, not getting to keep their hands together as they walked through the crowd. Lando immediately extended his arms to pull Ollie from behind the fence to hug him. “You won!”

“I won, baby girl. Did you see it? Uncle Lan did this for you”, he bumped her nose, making her smile. Ollie whipped away his tears to give him a kiss. “I love you, my sweet girl. I’m so glad you were here to see me win”.

“I love you too”.

Lando pulled Y/N closer so they could share a group hug and never felt so at peace. This year, he got everything he ever wished for: a family of his own and the glory of being a Formula 1 World Champion. Life couldn’t get any better than this, he knew it couldn’t. If he died tomorrow, he knew he would go happily, knowing he achieved everything he ever wanted in life.

“You need to go to the podium”, Y/N whispered in his ear, but he didn’t dare to move a muscle. “Lando, they are going to get me killed”.

“Shut up, just a second longer”, he buried his face in her neck, making her shiver in contact with his breathing on her skin. “I think I earned the privilege of having a few more seconds with my family right now”.

But Lando was soon dragged to the podium, not before he hugged his parents, siblings and friends though. Lucky enough, they got to postpone the ceremony for a few minutes, just so he could meet everyone that mattered before the podium. Eventually, he had to go get his trophy. And while he was standing on the top step of the podium, watching the crowd cheer for his first championship, he wondered what the next challenge would be. More wins? A second championship? 

“Now, what?”, he whispered to himself.

Once glance at Y/N and Olivia, right on the ground, filming him as the British National Anthem played in the background, he knew what the future reserved for him. And he already enjoyed it.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭