Lacy (LN4)
Lacy (LN4)
Summary: To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should explain it I feel like
Warnings: language, angst, sad sad sad
Note: I think this wasn’t the best I could do so if y’all want a part 2 let me know bc i feel like i could redeem myself
Lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry. Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell? Dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies, did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?
Luisinha’s eyes twinkled as they stared up at Lando, Y/n huddled in the corner as she analyzed the girl. Lists upon lists of things she had that Y/n didn’t plagued her mind, tormenting every thought and destroying the little bit of self confidence Y/n had left. It was cruel, how sweet and perfect Luisinha was. There was no reason to hate her or criticize her, pick her apart until Y/n felt better about herself. That was the worst part, the thing that hurt the most. It wasn’t the fact that Luisinha possessed the one thing Y/n had yearned for for years before or the fact that Luisinha was loved by everyone. No, it was the fact that, when Y/n lay awake at night, she couldn’t blame anyone else for her mistake other than herself. It was gutting and tiring, but the knowledge that Luisinha was completely innocent, ironically, made Y/n hate her more.
Somebody’s arm brushing up against hers pulled her out of her deep thoughts, her head turning around to see who had taken up the space. When her eyes met that of Lando’s Australian teammate, she smiled.
“They’re cute, yeah?” Oscar chuckled, mistaking her staring for adoration rather than what it truly was; jealousy.
Nodding, Y/n tilted her head as if she really cared about the conversation, “Yeah, for sure. Never seen Lando happier.”
The words were bitter, admitting outwardly that she had never, and probably would never, be the reason for that specific smile on his face.
Oscar took a sip of his water as he looked on at the couple, “Don’t even know how she fell in love with him.”
The world went quiet for a moment as Y/n’s eyes frantically turned to sear into the side of Oscar’s face, “What?”
Her tone made his eyebrows furrow in confusion and the look on her face had him shaking his head, “Did Lando not tell you? They said ‘I love you’ like a week ago?”
Her body went numb, the information hitting her so hard it felt like the air had been taken from her lungs. As if things couldn’t get harder, Lando’s arm wrapped tightly around his girlfriend as he kissed her, very clearly lovesick. She felt stupid. Partially stupid for allowing the deepest part of her to think they would have a chance to be even remotely close to what he had with Luisinha, and the other part being stupid for not seeing how gone he was for her.
It was right in front of her, that part was chilling, but the other part that had her heart sinking was the fact that Lando had forgotten to tell her such big news.
Another thing added to the list of things Y/n didn’t have that Luisinha did; Y/n was forgettable, Luisinha wasn’t.
—
Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time. Watching, hidden in plain sight. And, oh, I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life, I see you everywhere. The sweetest torture one could bear.
Y/n was shivering, the coat she wore not enough to keep her warm in the cold Monaco weather. She checked her phone once more, trying to spot any message from Lando saying he would be there soon, but she came up empty every time.
The hostess, with a look of pity, eyed her from inside the restaurant, the table for two under the name of “Y/n” for the reservation taunting her as she realized what she was witnessing. However, the hostess thought it was Y/n’s boyfriend standing her up, not her best friend who had most likely forgotten about the dinner because he was with his girlfriend.
It took Y/n the next few minutes to pull herself together, coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to answer his phone after the countless messages she had sent him asking when he was going to show up to the dinner they had planned weeks ago.
With her head hung low, she went back into the establishment, muttering words to the woman at the front about canceling her reservations and apologizing for the inconvenience. Before Y/n could turn around and sulk home, however, the hostess reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand gently. With a small smile, she whispered, “I’m sure there’s a good reason as to why he didn’t show, don’t lose hope just yet. I’m sure he loves you very much. You’re a very beautiful girl, anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Nodding, Y/n didn’t look up from her feet as she thanked the woman and left. The reassurance the woman had intended to be comforting destroyed her just a bit more, resulting in controlled tears falling from her face as she rounded corners and crossed streets.
Whilst waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, Y/n pulled out her phone. Instagram was the first app she clicked, proving to be a wrong decision when she saw Lando had posted on his story. Painfully, it was a picture of him and Luisinha at his house with dinner on their laps. Ashamed of how hurt she was, she tried to convince herself that being mad at him was unnecessary. Her feelings were a product of her longing, something he couldn’t be blamed for. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help, but feel abandoned. Years of friendship down the drain as he got distracted with someone else, someone who gave him more than she could. Luisinha granted him connections to parts of the entertainment industry that could help to grow his companies, gain access to new opportunities.
She tried to convince herself she was happy for him, but that secured feeling never truly came even after she got home.
Looking at her phone once more with no response from Lando, she went to bed.
Or, at least, laid in bed. Previously mentioned nights of staying up to blame herself returning.
—
Smart, sexy Lacy. I’m losing it lately. I feel your compliments like bullets on skin. Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate. Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist. Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. You got the one thing that I want. Oh, I try, I try, I try, try to rationalize people are people, but it’s like you’re made of angel dust.
Nights like these were supposed to be fun. Max, Y/n, and Lando all staying out into the late hours of the nights, drinking and dancing in random clubs around the city. However, this time it proved to be bittersweet as Lando informed the group Luisinha planned to tag along.
Y/n’s smile was fake, of course, but she was prepared to plaster it on for the rest of the night if it meant Lando’s good mood was preserved. Of course, Luisinha had shown up in a designer dress that hugged her body in all the right ways. Her smile was showstopping as she hugged Y/n, whispering to her about how gorgeous she looked.
“Thank you. That’s very sweet. You look very pretty as well.” Y/n got out painfully, wanting nothing to do with the woman in front of her.
“Doesn’t she?” Lando butt in as if he was trying to drive the knife deeper in Y/n’s heart. Safe to say, he was successful.
She chuckled dryly when he started waving his arms animatedly around, shouting, “Gorgeous! Impeccable! Breathtaking!”
It was a wonder Y/n didn’t break down right then. Shades of betrayal dousing out the fire in her eyes, the life in her body, as her mind forced her to take a look back on all the times she had thought Lando loved her as much as she did him. The time when he drove to her house in the middle of the night because she got a stomach bug and was throwing up; the time when he pretended to be her boyfriend so a random man at a bar would stop making her feel uncomfortable; the time when he had opened up to her about his mental health struggles, finishing it off with telling her how much he loved her and appreciated her. That moment, out of all of them, was the worst to relive because it was in the way he said her name, the way his fingers had gripped her hand, as he told her how much he adored her whole being. His tone had made it sound as if a real love declaration was the cusp of his lips, although those specific words never came. Instead, it was a quiet silence as he waited for her to respond and she waited for him to tell her everything she had ever wanted to hear. Y/n had locked that memory away in her mind, it being too crushing to bounce around in her mind like the others did. So, when it came up as he yelled around in front of her about how beautiful his girlfriend was, she was pushed over the edge.
Suddenly, her dress felt too tight and she became too aware of the tips of her fingers touching the tops of her thighs. She no longer wanted to go out and hang out with people whom she wanted to forget about. But, the cruelty of the world seemed to be targeting her as an opportunity to bail on their plans never came, and she was forced to listen to Luisinha’s giggling after Lando whispered something in her ear.
No amount of alcohol could cure the putrid taste of unrequited love, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Shots on shots of vodka riddled the booth they had reserved in the back of the club. She didn’t want to dance, didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to sulk in her thoughts and allow herself to wallow in self pity.
Y/n was a fun drunk, but, that night, she was messy and sloppy, the complete opposite of what she knew Lando wanted. Luisinha had gotten tipsy; Luisinha had twirled around on the dance floor gracefully as if she couldn’t mess a single thing up; Luisinha had done everything right while Y/n tormented herself for being nothing like that. She couldn’t get out of her own head, clearly being too far gone alcohol-wise to think straight.
“Maybe you should slow down?” Max tried, coaxing the glass out of her hand when she had accidentally sloshed the liquid onto his lap.
Groaning and rolling her eyes, Y/n grabbed her bag, “You’re no fun. I’m going to find someone else.”
Max shook his head, reaching out to grab her wrist, knowing Lando would kill him if he left Y/n alone like this, but she was too quick for him, disappearing into the crowd in a millisecond.
He shouted for her, eyes scanning the herd of people, before going to check outside, but he continuously came up empty. The situation became even worse when Lando came back to their table, Luisinha in tow, with furrowed eyebrows.
“Where’s Y/n?” He quizzed, his gaze falling on a frantic Max.
“She left.” He said as his eyes failed to meet Lando’s.
There was a silence before Lando tried again, “I’m sorry, what?”
Max scoffed, “Lando, she left. I don’t know where she went and, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find her anywhere.”
Luisinha, being the angel she was, began looking around the club as if she could find Y/n in the spots Max had already looked.
“Did you call her?” Lando asked, pulling out his phone and clicking her contact.
It rang, continued to ring, until it clicked and he was met with an eerie quiet.
“Y/n? Where are you?” He asked softly.
Rustling and heels clacking was all he heard before her slurred words were saying, “I’m walking home.”
He shook his head immediately, grabbing his keys and nodding to Luisinha and Max, telling them he was going to go pick her up.
“No way, Y/n. Your house is so far from here on foot. Let me come get you and I can drive you home, how about that?”
She didn’t have much of a choice considering he was already outside of the club and unlocking his car, but that didn’t get through to her, “No, Lando. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially you.”
His foot stepped on the gas, driving toward her house and hoping to find her on his way there, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He knew never to reason with a drunk, but she had been so distant lately, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what had happened to his best friend and the relationship they once shared.
Y/n huffed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Continuing down the road he was on, he saw, in the distance, a black, shimmering dress, similar to the one he knew Y/n had worn that night. Sure enough, as he got closer, he saw her braced against a light post as she tried to take off her heels. Her hair was messy, eyes stained black with her smeared mascara, and, if Lando had to guess, she had been crying.
When he pulled up next to her, she scoffed loudly, “God, you can’t just leave me alone, huh? I said I didn’t want to see you, Lando. Leave me the fuck alone.”
He was visibly taken aback by her hostile nature, but, nevertheless, tried to get her in the car.
“Get in the car, Y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone when you’re this drunk.” He unlocked the doors and got out of the car, walking towards her only for her to take a step back.
“I don’t want to get in the car with you. Go back to Luisinha.” She was practically spitting her words, aggression dripping off every syllable.
Lando groaned, reaching out for her once more, but just missing her, “Stop being stubborn, Y/n. Get in the car and I’ll drive you home.”
Finally, her fuse having run out, she shouted, “NO.”
Lando’s arms flew out beside him, “Ok, why?!”
She threw her shoe at his legs and, if they hadn’t been so disappointed in the way their partnership had turned out, they would’ve laughed.
“Why’d you never tell me you and her said ‘I love you’?” She stopped, putting her hands on her hips as her anger took a new look, quiet and controlled.
He blinked at her, “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter, Lando. Why?” She shrugged, staring blankly at him.
He looked away from her, hesitant to answer with the truth. His change in attitude allowed Y/n to continue, “What about last week when you didn’t show up for dinner?”
He shook his head, “What dinner?”
Her jaw dropped and she began laughing, “You still don’t remember? Did you look at any of my texts? Never wondered why I called you so many times last Friday night?”
He thought back, remembering he had spent that night with Luisinha, nothing about Y/n blowing up his phone. To check, he pulled the device out, looking through his messages and seeing, lost in all the other people trying to get ahold of him, was her asking where he was.
He breathed out deeply, “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. It’s been happening a lot lately.”
“No, don’t do that. It hasn’t.” He tried to convince her, but she seemed unimpressed.
“Alright, so then why did you forget to tell me such a pivotal moment in your relationship?” She tried again.
His head fell into his hands, shaking it side to side, before mumbling, “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“How would I get hurt?” She said it as if he was stupid and being overly cautious for no reason. The fact that she was actually hurt by it, she wouldn’t tell him.
His eyes flew up to meet hers and in a small moment of confidence, Lando stated, “Because you love me.”
The four words hung in the air, painful and so incredibly true. She tried to come up with a deflection or some sort of counterargument, but, by the way he looked at her, she knew it was no use.
Sighing, “How long have you known?”
His hand grabbed ahold of her arm, her body finally not creating more distance, “That doesn’t matter. Y/n, this doesn’t change how I see you. In fact, knowing it’s true is good because…” He trailed off, their eyes lingering on each other as they both braced themselves for what was about to be said. Y/n let out a small smile for once that night and let herself get lost in the idea of what he was about to reveal, “I lo-”
Whatever he was about to say was completely interrupted when a car pulled up next to them, the window from the backseat being rolled down and Luisinha’s face popping out.
“Good, you found her! Let’s go home. Max and I are so tired.” She gave a tight-lipped smile, unknowingly having stopped a moment that would’ve ended her relationship. Her eyes seemed to follow their movements closely as if she was suspicious of the moment she had caught them in.
Lando looked back to Y/n, an apology swimming in his eyes, but she disregarded it. Muttering incoherent words, she yanked her arm from his hold and got in his car.
Defeated, once more, by the girl she wanted to be.
—
Lacy, oh, lacy. It’s like you’re out to get me. You poison every little thing that I do. Lacy, oh, lacy. I just loathe you lately and I despise my jealous eyes, and how hard they fell for you.
Days after that night, Luisinha’s entire demeanor toward Y/n shifted. She became more antagonistic. Long gone were the sweet comments about Y/n’s appearance, in place were backhanded compliments that had more than a few people raising their eyebrows.
Everything Y/n did was scrutinized and corrected by her, making it seem as though Y/n was incompetent. Subtly mean, Y/n found her reason to hate Luisinha. It was bittersweet, truthfully. Something Y/n had wanted to feel for so long; pure annoyance at the other girl in Lando’s life, but, it also caused a rift between her and him.
Lando and Y/n, the supposed iconic duo, stopped talking. Disappearing from her so rapidly were the nights when they would go out to get food only to gossip the whole time; disappearing were the times when he would invite her out with him and Max. Suddenly, she was seeing Luisinha laughing along with Max as they sat in the same booth she had just a few weeks before on different fan accounts. Luisinha, the better version of her, had become her immediate replacement and it killed her soul. A family she once admired had been stolen from her at the hands of someone she still loved and the other a woman whom, no matter how harsh she was, Y/n would always idolize and yearn to be.
Confusing, nevertheless. Questions now kept her awake at night instead of the usual self-torment.
Wasn’t Lando about to tell her he loved her on that cold, quiet street?
If so, why would he have ousted her so easily?
Why had she given her all to someone who, seemingly, didn’t care?
But, the one thing that never left her alone, the question that agonized her the most was the one there could never be a satisfactory answer to.
Why couldn’t she be Luisinha?
Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.
A/N: LMK KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS BOTH GOOD AND BAD IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS ONE I HOPE YOU LIKED IT
More Posts from Ccallistata and Others
I need it so badlyyyyyyyyy
would anyone be interested in ready a super angsty sad Harwin Strong one shot? Reader is Rhaenyra’s younger sister and married Harwin even though he continues his relationship with Rhaenyra? I know Harwin is super honorable but I can’t help but write for the unrequited love trope 🫣.
I freaking love this ❤️😭😭😭
Reggie x Reader: Fingers and thumbs, baby. (Epilogue)
A/N: SIKE BITCHEEEES. Y’ALL REALLY THINK I’D LEAVE IT LIKE THAT!? HELL NAH YOUR MOTHER HAS RETURNED TO PROVIDE LOVE YA XXX
Plot: When Reggie and (Y/N) have been bestfriends their whole lives but the universe had other plans.
Samantha stole another glance at the tall, gorgeous boy that seemed so keen on listening to everything that was coming out of their boring professor’s mouth. He was popular and friendly but still somehow remained a mystery, always kept to himself. Everybody was practically in love with him because aside from his well-built physique, friendly nature, and willingness to help those who need it he had this certain aura of vagueness around him which seemed to drag everyone in, makes them want to unlock more. As if there is so much more to be discovered aside from the glimpses of personalities he shows the world but nobody ever had the chance to be that close. Everybody knew him but at the same time nobody actually did.
When their professor finally ended his discussion Samantha stood up, ready to take the first step to become the first person to have the honor of actually knowing Reggie Mantle.
Or so she thought.
“H-Hey, Reggie?”
He looked at her before gracing her with a smile, making her heart beat twice as fast. “Hey, Samantha,” He adjusted his gym bag on his shoulders, probably preparing himself for his daily training. “Need anything?”
“Y-Yeah, actually, I was wondering,” she closed her eyes for a second to gather some courage. “Would you – would you like to get some coffee with me? Some time? If you’re not too busy.”
She swallowed as she waited for his response, afraid to look at his face for any sign of rejection. Then she heard a sigh and knew it was game over. She heard the stories, the rumors, how no one stood a chance because:
“Sorry, Sam,” Reggie really sounded sympathetic and she hated it. “I – I have someone –“
“I know.” Samantha smiled, sadly, successfully cutting him off. She looked up at him despite the pain. “What a lucky girl.” She whispered more to herself than anything but Reggie seemed to hear it.
Reggie smirked before shaking his head. “You got it all mixed up, Sam.” Reggie said. “I’m the one who got lucky.”
He patted her head before walking away.
“W-What’s her name?” Samantha asked. Curious as to who got this beautiful boy’s fancy and got him hooked that he couldn’t even look at another girl ever again. Reggie’s mind immediately went to the memory of your smile, the way you’re hair danced messily in the wind when you were in the passenger seat of his car, the echo of your laugh in his room as you wore his shirt while running your hand across his hair, your beautiful 5 o’clock shadow as you stared outside the windows of Pop’s with the neon lights making you look ethereal and seraphic.
Samantha noticed that Reggie’s mind seemed to disappear to a happy place because he beamed, almost shining with happiness. Another glimpse, she thought, Reggie was really full of surprises and secrets.
“If I tell you, I might have to kill you.”
All the boys stared as Cheryl and (Y/N) walked together, with their arms crossed, talking quietly among themselves. How the meanest and nicest girls of the entire building managed to become bestfriends was beyond them but they would be lying if they say they weren’t a sight to behold. Especially (Y/N), known to be the kindest soul to ever grace their halls, who was always willing to extend a helping hand and always treat everybody with respect. A lot of boys tried to win her heart but none was very successful, in fact not qa single one even came close, because aside from the Red Widow by her side, a nickname she earned because of her careful yet poisonous words and her dedication to guard the little angel of New York University everybody gets the same response from her every time: a kind rejection. The kind of rejection that makes them feel bad for even trying and putting her through the dilemma of even rejecting them.
One poor soul gripped the bouquet of roses in his hands before daring to walk towards their table and try his luck, eyes on the back of (Y/N)’s head. He gave himself a mental pep talk trying not to chicken out but all of those words of inspiration and prayers were obliterated when he caught Cheryl’s eyes.
Cheryl seemed bored and emotionless, head resting on her palm, as she stared at another clueless boy trying to vouch for her bestfriend’s affection. She gave him the smallest glare, which usually meant ‘scram’ or ‘fuck off’, and smirked as she saw him make a 90 degree turn before walking out straight out the library.
“Cherry, stop scaring people.” (Y/N), who apparently wasn’t really focusing on her advanced reading, chuckled. “You’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep that up.”
Cheryl scoffed and flipped her long, almost fiery in this lighting, red hair. “Nobody deserves me, darling, and we both know it.”
“No we don’t,” You stared at her. “You should give them a chance.”
“That’s rich coming from you, sweetie.” Cheryl shot back making you blush. “Why don’t you give those unfortunate souls who are just begging for a glance from the angel of their dreams, a chance?”
You blushed even more. “You—I – You know I’m not into that, Cherry.”
“Uh-huh, yeah, who you tryna fool?” Cheryl smirked, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back on her chair. “And please, he was carrying roses, how cliché right? The right man would know you’re more of a sunflower girl.” She smirked. “Too bad the right man is in a far far away kingdom.”
You managed to give her a glare despite the heat on your face but she just laughed at your effort in looking mad. You just rolled your eyes, heart beating a little too fast at the memory of him.
“I’m just, such a good friend.” Cheryl dramatically fanned her face, as if she was about to cry, speaking a little too loudly in the library. “That bastard better be fucking grateful and buy me a Victorian-inspired mansion for all my effort in making sure his lil’ lovebird doesn’t get snatched by worthless peasants.”
“Cherry stop,” you whined trying to remove the attention away from the two of you, knowing nobody would have the guts to try and make her quiet but you.
“I’m gonna guilt-trip him his whole life, you just wait.”
“We don’t even know if he is still single.”
“Oh, we know.”
“How? I mean have you seen him? Boy’s like that doesn’t stay single for very long time in college.”
“Because I know him, and that boy is about as gone for you as you are for him,” Cheryl stated confidently. “And if you weren’t sure he is single, why are you still rejecting everybody left and right? Unless …”
“You are crazy.” You shook your head, not wanting to feed yourself any more false hopes. You don’t even know where in God’s green Earth he was staying at right now. You haven’t talked for almost four years now. You could but you decided not to because getting a little taste of that heaven will make you want him and miss him more and you don’t want to be running back to him when you are this close to your goal. That reunion will have to wait, and it seems like he was thinking the same thing, too.
Is he treating himself well?
Is he surrounded by good people?
Is he happy?
Does anything remind him of you? Even for just a second?
“(Y/N),” Cheryl was staring at something in her phone, eyes wide in shock. Whatever it was must be something big to actually surprise Cheryl. Cheryl shoved her phone at you as you read the article about a certain raven-haired boy that just won the Nationals in Indiana. “Point six hundred million for Cheryl. God, I hate being right all the time”
You ignored her as you read how Reggie Mantle, the captain, basically carried the whole game towards their victory with his agility, strategy, and strength. You reread the last paragraph of the article:
Mantle is not only a spectacular athlete but he is also an outstanding student with his top marks which will result to the possibility of him graduating as the top of his class. How he managed to balance his responsibilities, Reggie Mantle gave us an answer that left more questions than answers:
“You could say I have a pretty solid foundation and inspiration.” He said with a grin. “Though she is probably studying hard in New York too.”
Who is this mysterious lady that snatched Reggie Mantle’s heart? The world may never know.
“Hey man,” Reggie returned back to Earth when he heard his roommate, soon to be ex-roommate, in their toga with a big grin on his face. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
Reggie took his hands and gave him a half-hug and a pat on the back. “I’ll see you.”
Jake plopped down on his bed, one last time probably. “Can’t believe you’re going pro, man. That’s big.”
“I know,” Reggie chuckled, picking up a football from the ground. “Even I still can’t believe it.”
“Well, as for me it’s the boring old office work.”
Reggie gave him a look before throwing at him the football which he caught with a lot of effort. “Shut up, Jake, you got a girlfriend who’s smart. She got you.”
Jake smirked. “Yeah she’s still pretty bummed about not getting that journalism job. She really wanted it.”
“I can’t believe someone actually beat Janine. Must be some miracle.” Jake’s girlfriend, Janine, was like a machine when it comes to her studies. So it came as a shock to everyone when she came barging in their room crying about how she did not get accepted to her dream job.
“Yeah, she told me it was taken by some monster that graduated from New York,” Jake chuckled. “Kept whining how the world is unfair cause the said monster was drop dead gorgeous, smart, and is now holding her dream job by the neck on her first try.”
“Wai- wait, back up,” Reggie stood up. “Did … did Janine say what the name of this said New York monster was?”
Jake seemed to think for a second and Reggie was literally on his tiptoes from the suspense. “I forgot man, I guess it was (Y/N) or something? I forgot the last na—“
Jake was cut off by Reggie’s jaw dropping in shock before genuinely laughing. Throughout their four years of being friends Jake has never seen Reggie this happy, even during his championship game. Reggie looked at Jake who was looking at him as if he grew a second head.
“Holy shit! I’m so sorry, man.” Reggie laughed once more, patting his shoulders sympathetically. “In behalf of her, let me apologize.”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked, genuinely confused.
“The New York monster that took the job from your girl?”
“Yeah …”
“That’s my girl.”
You just finished face timing Cheryl that was now living in London for some business transaction and she couldn’t stop bitching about the rain ruining her hair, which, in turn, just gave you something to laugh about.
“Good morning, stranger,” your favorite barista greeted you as you leaned in the counter.
“Hello, outsider,” You greeted her back. “Can I get my regular and a muffin?”
“Oooh muffin, you’re being a rebel today, huh?” she snickered as she handed you your favorite drink and a fresh muffin.
“I like to remain unpredictable.” You said as you handed her the exact amount and placed a twenty on the tip box.
“See you tomorrow, outsider.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
You sighed as the hot drink touch your tongue, fucking heaven. As you were about to go in your car you felt a small tug on your coat. You turned around and saw a cute little kid that had gorgeous curly locks hiding a sunflower behind his back.
“Hey, there little bud.” You leaned down to minimize the distance between you and the kid. “Are you lost?” You looked around you. “Where’s your mum—“
You were cut off when he suddenly shoved you the sunflower in his handsand ran before disappearing right around the corner.
“What the …” You cracked a smile despite your confusion and saw a small card tied around the sunflower with a note that read:
There’s more from where that came from.
“What?”
Just as you were about to look for the little boy a tall figure suddenly appeared from your peripheral view. And just like in your wildest dreams, there he was: standing in front of you, beautiful as ever, holding a bouquet of sunflowers and wearing that smirk that made your stomach flip in the most beautiful way possible ever since you were kids.
“Reggie …”
Before you could utter another word he sped up his last two steps and cradled your face with his free hand for a kiss. A kiss, a kiss that you have imagined over and over again, a kiss that was foreign yet so goddamn familiar from the amount of times you have dreamt and daydreamed about it. A kiss from Reggie Mantle was all it took for your heart to beat the same irregular beats that was reserved only for him.
I took you a moment to recover from the shock but when you did you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him in deeper. You waited too long for this kiss and you never wanted it to end and he probably had the same thought in mind. But sadly, like everything amazing, it had to, or else you were gonna die from lack of oxygen.
Reggie leaned in your forehead and laughed just as you started to giggle. “I guess you missed me?” you whispered.
“You have no idea, pup.” You started tearing up, not believing that after all these years he was finally here in your arms, looking at you with the same dark eyes and intense gaze that makes you want to melt.
“I’m – “
“I love you.” Reggie made her forget her train of thoughts with those words. “If the kiss didn’t make it clear enough. I, Reggie Mantle, is in love with you and swears to be in love with you in this lifetime and the next.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. Pulling him in for another kiss. “Promise?” You offered him your pinky.
He laughed, crossing both of pinkies and pushed both of your fists and thumbs together.
“Promise.” He gave you another peck. “And, I believe you owe me a date.”
“Oh, do I now?” you teased, giggling when he tried to kiss your neck. “Where would you like to go?”
“I waited for years for this date, pup,” he said letting go of your face as he opted to wrap his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist. He gave you the bouquet which you held with your free hand. “I’ll go wherever the fuck you want.”
Breaking News! After dating for three years and being engaged in one, star football player, Reggie Mantle and his fiancé’ the award winning journalist and published author, (Y/F/N), has officially tied the knot in secret in their hometown, Riverdale, with only a chosen few people present, one note-worthy guest was Mrs. Mantle’s best friend, Cheryl Blossom, the CEO of Blossom Inc. and world-renowned author of two award-winning novels in her spare time. It was said to be a big event despite the small town in Riverdale as stolen shots were taken of the grand wedding for the official photographs of the wedding was announced to be kept in private and not to be publicized in the request of the couple.
This power-couple had been best friends their whole lives and decided to tie the knot right after Reggie Mantle surprised his, now, wife with her dream house in California where they were rumored to finally settle. The couple is about to head into their 2-month honeymoon that will be spent in different cities around the world that they have planned to visit ever since they were kids.
After you’re done crying and emptying your box of tissue we dare you to find us a more perfect couple, we’ll wait.
(Y/N) was breathing in the fresh air from the morning breeze. She stared at the view from her balcony: the trees, the lake, and the city far, far away. Reggie really thought everything through when he built this house just for her. He built her a home where she is safe, contented, and happy and she could never thank him enough.
She jumped a bit when she felt a fluffy blanket, which turned out to be her robe, being wrapped around her by none other than her husband. Even after a year and a half of being married she still feels giddy thinking about Reggie being her husband. Finally.
“You okay?” Reggie whispered, afraid of breaking this serene moment as he hugged you from behind and gave you a peck on the side of your head.
You decided to face your husband and give him a proper good morning kiss, wrapping your arms on his waist as he wrapped his arms around you. “I feel perfect.” You nuzzled your face on his warm neck relishing on the comfort only he can give you. You looked up at him and saw him looking out at the view before turning his eyes on you making you wonder what you did in your past life to have a man like him to keep forever.
“We’re in love, aren’t we?”
He chuckled at your question before leaning hooking a stray hair in your ear. “I can’t speak for you but you got me pretty hooked, pup.” You looked up at him through your lashes to give him a glare as if to say ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ and Reggie grinned, the same boyish grin from when you were in Riverdale, giving you another kiss
“You don’t have to worry about that for a very, very long time, pup.” Reggie sighed, pulling you closer to him, as if that was possible.”Your heart won’t break around here. I’ll make sure of that.”
You squealed when he leaned down and hooked his arms at the back of your thighs and sat down, taking you in his lap. You watched as the sun rose quietly, sharing the morning coffee you made to help you get ready for the day, small kisses and giggles shared every now and then and in that exact moment you realized you could stay there forever and already find the life that was your definition of perfect
But then on cue you heard the familiar wailing of your two other babies on their bedroom making you giggle and Reggie groan, leaning on your shoulders. “Oh stop it, you were the one who was begging me for a baby.”
“I asked for one baby, pup. Just one, I’m blaming your fertile ass for this.” Reggie complained but was still ahead of you towards his babies room. He loved being a father and everybody knows it. When you were pregnant anxious would be an understatement when defining Reggie as he watched your every move and made sure you were eating only the best to make sure his babies would grow to become ‘as strong as me and as beautiful as their mother’. Heck, nobody could touch you without receiving a glare from Reggie which in turn would result to you smacking him in the head as he pouted but still continued to follow you around like a lost guard dog.
“Or we could blame you fucking me 12 times a day, every day? How about that?” You shot back.
“Hush, (Y/N/N), “ Reggie said as he cradled Cherry on his right arm and picked up the older twin, Jason, on the other. “My babies can hear you.”
“Oh they’re your babies now—“
“TOUCHDOWN BITCHES!” You heard the all too familiar slamming of the door open and Cheryl’s voice from below. “WHERE ARE MY DEAR DARLINGS?!”
“I can’t believe I actually gave that woman a spare key.” Reggie sighed, making you giggle. “Since when did she arrive from London?”
“Come on now,” you said as you took Cherry from Reggie making him pout. God, his daughter had him whipped. “Let’s go down before Cheryl wrecks havoc in here too.”
“I gotta share everything with her,” Reggie complained to a now sleeping Jason, as he went downstairs and saw Cheryl with a dollhouse and a toy car that looked too expensive and too realistic to be owned by a couple of 7 month old babies .”One day I’ll just snap and assassinate her, I swear to God.”
“I heard that, you ass!”
“You needed to hear it, satan!”
You couldn’t help but watch as Reggie and Cheryl bickered back and forth while Jason was silently sleeping in his crib and Cherry was babbling nonsense while sitting comfortably in your lap.
“Listen here Poison Ivy wanna-be, you’re spoiling my kids and they don’t even have the mental capacity to be spoiled yet.” Reggie complained.
“I am their godmother I can do what I want because I am richer than their father.”
“Excuse me,” Reggie seemed genuinely offended and you couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Who’s richer than who’ has been a small game in between Reggie and Cheryl, heck, even Archie, who is now an international song artist, and Moose who is an owner of a couple of successful gyms would join every now and then.
I guess nothing really ever truly changed. Reggie and Cheryl just can’t admit they love each other with a gun aimed at their heads, you were still hopelessly in-love with your husband, and he still looks at you as if you were the reason the sun continues to shine every morning. Only now you had two little angels to call your own and more money than you can spend.
Not bad for a shy girl from Riverdale who was secretly in love with her bestfriend.
You looked at your family, once more. Leaning back, placing Cherry on your chest, you sighed in contentment.
Not bad at all.
A/N: I’m gonna miss writing this so fucking much. Fuck.
Taglist
@captainsuperfangirl
@kimberlymazel
@annoyingsibling
@ooh-hannahsun
@belbow
@courageouslystupid
Can someone make a very angsty Harwin Strong x reader story? Or an unrequited love something because I badly want to cry I still can't accept the fate of Laena and Harwin😭😭😭😭
I would die on the spot if my grandmother told me those things in front of my partner 😭😭
Vexation
warnings: obscene language, reader talking back to elder people, sweet, fluff. That's all, I think? Haha!
pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader
summary:
The well-known Lady Thorn of Highgarden finally visited you after a year of being wed to Prince Aemond. However, you have a feeling it will not go well.
a/n: this was supposed to be a 100 followers thank you fic but I just finished it today lol Enjoy!
like always, LIKES are really welcome but this duck will do the duck dance if you also REBLOG and LEAVE YOUR THOUGHTS about her stories. i love reading them and they inspire me a lot. ✨
You have been acting up since earlier when your mother informed you that your grandmother decided to visit the two of you after many moons of being wed.
~~~~~~
"For someone who hasn't seen their grandmother for years, you seem not thrilled enough, my love." He gave a light chuckle when he saw your face with a sneer.
And you have a feeling that he was enjoying this different side of you.
You're always calm and collected and it was rare to see you so agitated about someone who used to be your mentor.
No, you're not like this because you're troubled she did not visit you sooner.
Nor, it was due to you not caring about her enough either.
It's the opposite.
You love her.......truly.
And you know her better than anyone in this kingdom. Her old bones, wit and all.
If you have been asked to give one word to describe her, that would be; a nuisance.
"Well, if I were you, you should too." He raised his eyebrow at that but the look of wonder was still etched all over his face.
"I still fail to understand what was so wrong in meeting, not just your grandmother but your teacher when you were young. I bet she can share stories I do not know about you, Lady wife."
"I also fail to understand why such a man of your stature was so excited to meet a chattering old lady, Lord husband." You said as a matter of fact.
At this point, you knew that he truly thinks you do not want to meet her for fear of hearing embarrassing stories about your childhood.
He did think about one thing right, but he did not hit the head in the nail on what your fear truly was for.
"Enlighten me, my love. What did your grandmother do to earn your ire?" Before you could share the reason for your distress, a servant's knock disrupted your conversation.
"Pardon me, my prince and my lady. Lady Tyrell was waiting in the sitting room." The servant bowed once she announced the arrival of your family. She stood near the door, waiting for your command.
With a sigh, you stood up and went near your husband. Your hand reaches for his hair and you run through your fingers on his soft locks. Your hand fixes the ones that always seem to find themselves unaligned.
He closes his eyes and leaves a soft "hmmm" on his lips as he savors the feel of your fingers through his hair.
"Are you certain you want me to go and waste my time with that old monster instead of doing this with you?" You smiled sweetly at him and pouted your lips to convince him not to let you go and finally meet your grandmother.
However, instead of saying yes, he chuckled and warm calloused hands clasped yours.
"As much as I love to do that and stay with you in our chambers, wrapped around my arms, your refusal to meet her might leave a wrongful impression towards who I am. So go now, dear wife, I know you'll come back to me safe and sound."
A grumble left you before you pecked his nose. He frowned a bit at your rebellious antics. You always give him a kiss on the lips and wish him well before he trains. But today, you're not giving him that.
Before he could protest though, you stuck out your tongue and winked at him. Leaving him on his own devices as you were escorted by the servant to the place you truly hoped not to visit today.
Even from afar, you can already hear your grandmother's feeble voice from old age. Yet, you know that despite the soft sounds, she's far from tender.
"Here I thought I'll meet my death bed first before you finally show up here." She said with eyes-closed while sipping her tea.
Trying not to roll your eyes, you smiled at the servant and dismissed her. You gave your mother a smile before you sat down beside her.
Servants who were standing closed immediately placed a cup and saucer in front of you. They also filled the table with new biscuits and sweets.
"Well, I guess my timing's not that impeccable because I would have waited more just to see that." The servant who was filling up your tea almost let go of the teapot from shock on what she heard. But as she was a highly trained servant from the palace, she composed herself right away and bowed once she finished her task.
Meanwhile, your mother let out a cough and a choked sound of surprise before deciding to dismiss the servants fully and avoid any more witness from your family banter.
"I can't believe you call yourself a lady with that manners." Once all the servants were dismissed, your grandmother spoked again.
"Apologies, mother. I will make sure to teach her the proper decorum again later." Your mother gave you an eye and you just rolled your eyes at her.
"Not my granddaughter. She's perfect as is. I meant you. Who would have choked on her own tea?" Her feeble voice cracked from hoarseness as she raised her voice, scolding your mother.
A knowing look was passed between you and your mother as she gaped at your grandmother from shock.
If you do not respect your mother, you would have said I told you so.
"Anyway, enough lessons about etiquette. How was the life of being a wife, my favorite grandchild." Even without a mirror, you can see your face twitched from annoyance.
This old hag was indeed testing your patience. It has been a year since your wedding. You'll understand if she did not come to your wedding due to an official business. However, all those times, she was sitting on her favorite chair, sipping her warm tea, inside her chambers in Highgarden.
"It was well, until you decided to come here and ruin it for me." At this point, your mother feigned ignorance and continued with her afternoon tea. She's smarter now as she realized that your grandmother came here for you with an agenda. You're trying to decipher what it was. Yet, you have a feeling you know it already.
"If that was true then, when are you going to give me my grandchildren? Are you impotent? Because I believed based on stories inside these walls, your lord husband made your legs wobble on several occasions. I can only assume that problem was you." The cutlery rang when you put your cup down full of anger from her statement.
It wasn't as if you did not want a child either but no matter how much you did it with Aemond throughout that year, you were still not blessed with a baby. Your husband, the ever sweet partner, assured you that it was fine. Some couples had the hardest time having children and there was no rush.
The insult stings, especially, since it was your family who mentioned it.
"If that was the reason for your visit then I'd rather spent more time doing it with my husband than wasting my time here talking to a wrinkled old thorn." You were about to leave your seat when suddenly, your grandmother grabbed your arm and pulled you back down.
"Oh dear. Your patience was still shorter than my lifespan. Sit back down and let this wrinkled old thorn finish what she was trying to discuss." Still fuming, you followed her but crossed your arms in defiance as you stared straightly in her eyes.
"Well, I would not even agree that you were impotent as our family were known to have no problems with giving birth compared to the Targaryen. But still, answer my question truthfully.
.
.
.
.
.
When you're doing it, have you tried using your mouth and licking the tip while massaging his balls so he'll enjoy it. In my time, ladies let their husbands cum first and that method was certain to make them pregnant after a month." Your mother who was quietly listening to your discussion was left coughing violently at your grandmother's shameless words in broad daylight. The tea she was holding splashed everywhere as she tried to compose herself.
To help her calm down, you put your hand soothingly on her back. Your face red with shame as your grandmother continued her obscenities and the advice for the right position to get pregnant next time.
When she realized that you and your mother gave her silence as she told you what must be done, she looked in your direction and raised her eyebrow at your reddened looks.
"Ha! I do not understand why the two of you act as if you did not know what I am saying. Stop pretending to be prim and proper! A man can do and tries everything when he's fucking every lady on these realm but a lady had a chance to only do it with once with one man on her lifetime. Enough with this nonsense and do me a favor and use this." You almost backed away when she suddenly stood up and placed a bag inside your hands. The bag emits a strong sweet smell you've never smelled before.
"What is this?"
"An aphrodisiac."
As if your skin was burnt by the bag, you immediately throw it on the table and stay as far away from it as possible.
"Have your old brain finally given up?" You yelled at your grandmother. Fingers pointing at her accusingly. You can feel the hotness run from your face to your ears and you know that you looked just like an apple from how red you were.
"Oh hush now. Me and your grandfather used to add that to our tea and it always ended up with a child so that product's safe from testing. Not that we need it much but the feeling we have after using it was something I missed so much. Believe me, it will just help your body relax and be more sensitive from your partner's touches compared to other aphrodisiacs." The disgust you felt when you saw her close her eyes and shudder from remembering what she did with your grandfather were so immense you felt all the hair in your body rise.
"Oh gods. My dear ears." On the other hand, your mother's laments as she tries to console her ears and head from what she heard today.
A sudden knock made you jump from where you were standing and you three looked at the door and waited for the announcement of whoever was on the other side.
"Lady Tyrell, his grace, the prince Aemond Targaryen is here to see you."
"Let him in. Let me see my grandson-in-law." Before you can react, your grandmother smiled wickedly at you and announced to let your husband in.
Panicked, you grabbed the bag and put it inside your dress, where a hidden pocket was made.
Your husband came in with a warm smile but frowned when he saw your pale face and rigid body as you stood near a chair.
He titled his head at you in silent question about what happened when your grandmother opens her mouth to greet him.
"If this wasn't the infamous one-eyed prince who was able to tame the biggest dragon at such a young age." A toothy grin was plastered on her face and she walked towards your husband. She opened her arms and hugged him tightly. She also patted him loudly and the gesture confuses your husband but let her do it.
"Hmmm... I know now why my granddaughter is protective of you. I will surely climb you if I am a little bit younger."
The world stopped as you tried to understand what your grandmother said to your dear husband.
You were just glad that your husband did not skip his etiquette classes as he was able to compose himself right away and gave a proper answer from that obscene remark.
"You flatter me, Lady Thorn." He replied with a smile.
Your grandmother chuckled at that and decided to walk back in her seat. But when she passed your way, she whispered something that only your ears can hear.
"If you do not pull him away from this place, I will make sure to make his ears bleed." You looked at her incredulously as she sat back down with a soft look on her face.
Blinking, you looked at your mother, who was still red, and looked back at your husband who was staring at your mouth agaped expression then back to your grandmother, who ordered another servant to bring another warm tea like normal. As if she did not just whisper the most absurd order you've heard.
Without further ado, you stride towards your husband with a purpose and grab his arm away from the chamber.
"Make sure to use my gift tonight, my favorite grandchild." Your grandmother reminded you with a wink.
All you were able to say was a loud groan and you stomped away dragging your husband with you.
"What was that?" He asked. Obviously confused with your manners.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Looking at your husband's face, your thoughts immediately come back from the nights he kisses your skin and presses himself closer to you. Thanks to your grandmother's scheme.
Stepping backwards farther in his direction, you stride and start running away.
He called your name many times but you can't look back as you slapped both of your cheeks from embarrassment.
How could you feel so turned on in the middle of the corridors just from staring at him. You groaned as you felt your core slicken from just the thoughts of him.
With a scream, you look at the clear sky with determination.
You will prove to your grandmother that you do not need that tea to enjoy your husband's company and bear his child!
~~~~~~
Meanwhile, back inside the room, Lady Tyrell cleared her throat and finally opened her mouth to talk to Lady Thorn.
"Do you truly need to edge her that way? I believe they're doing their best."
"Then, their best was not enough. With that type of husband, I can't believe she was having a hard time having a child. All she needed was a little push. I know it." The old lady smiled to herself and sighed as she looked outside and witnessed the beauty of spring.
She was sure that this will be a fruitful year for the Highgarden.
silver spring | coriolanus snow
Description: Coriolanus Snow knows that he shouldn't have ended up this way. He knows that he was destined to be something better. The woman sleeping beside him is a testament of his reckoning, Lucy Gray is a ghost that he tries to forget. (Snow and Reader's marriage told through the cold beliefs of Coriolanus.)
Pairing: young-president!coriolanus snow/wife!reader
Warning: childbirth, major character death, angst, snow is haunted by lucy gray's memory.
"Time cast a spell on you But you won't forget me." - Fleetwood Mac.
[...] He was glad about the erasure. It was just another way to eliminate Lucy Gray from the world. The Capitol would forget her, the districts barely knew her, and District 12 had never accepted her as their own. In a few years, there would be a vague memory that a girl had once sung in the arena. And then that would be forgotten too. Goodbye Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you.
"Are you alright?" you cleared your throat seeing him in deep thought. There was always something mysterious inside the man that you married - he was always deep in thought. "You came to visit?" he seemed disinterested in what you had to say. "I-they told me that you didn't eat dinner yet," you managed to choke out.
He was very clear and precise. He told you that he couldn't stand you - that he hated you, and it was the very reason that you were wed.
An amused chuckle exits his mouth. "Aren't there more important things to have your attention?" he raised an eyebrow, staring at you up and down with that incredulous stare.
You seemed to amuse him - to some extent.
"- like running our household or gossiping with your friends." he mused, returning back to his paperwork. His statement made you feel awry, you were never the one to listen to gossip - the suggestion that you should do that only cemented the fact that he didn't know you - didn't bother enough to know you. "I was worried that you'd starve without dinner." you took another step forward.
He shakes his head.
"I will not die without dinner." he scoffed - dismissing you.
It was late at night when Coriolanus stumbled inside your room. By then, he could hardly make out the outline of your body on the bed.
He couldn't believe that the woman he hated - had finally become his wife. "Coriolanus," you mumbled - eyes trying to adjust with the dim light. "Did I wake you?" he removed his jacket, surprised at his tone. "N-No," you stuttered. A meek prey against him.
You moved slightly, leaving him enough space to lay beside you.
Coriolanus was surprised that you slept that quick - though, perhaps he was also thankful. He didn't want to create a reason for small talk. Your purpose in his life wasn't to be loved - it was to create children, and to strengthen his political prowess.
The moment he set his eyes on you - he vowed to never love or care for you. He couldn't afford to love again. He knows what love feels like - Lucy Gray manipulated him, both body and soul. Until now he doesn't know if she is truly dead. He wishes that she is.
He is snapped away from his thoughts again.
This time, you wrap your arms around him. His eyes widen in surprise, he opens his mouth to speak but he relents seeing your sleeping figure.
He may hate you, but it does not stop him from finding you beautiful.
It was a few months later when he sees you again - this time with good news. "They tell me that our child is the size of a small ball." you smiled, reaching for his hand and placing it on your stomach. This was one of the few moments where he showed his love. You were sat on his lap, almost inhaling his scent at the proximity.
It was all for show, you thought. He had guests in the courtyard, and they could see you from the window.
"I've thought of names, but I wanted you to choose too." you continued, licking your pink lips. Oh, Coriolanus wanted nothing than to kiss those lips right now - but alas, his ambition ruled him. "What are they?" he continued rubbing your belly.
"Brutus, if it is a boy and Lucy-"
"No, not Lucy. Something else." he demanded, interrupting you. "Josephine," you quickly replace and he nods.
"- but if there are other names that you prefer, you may choose." you stared deep into his eyes. "You bleed, you decide." he whispered, his hands trailing up to your neck. "Kiss me," he suddenly demanded.
"What?" your eyebrows merged into each other.
"There's people watching, kiss me."
And you obeyed him.
"As pure as the driven snow," you mumble while soothing the pain in your stomach. "What did you say?" Coriolanus raised an eyebrow. "Our child is as pure as the driven snow," you repeated - almost seeing his face in a dream. "Where did you come up with that?" he chuckled, slowly used to your company.
"You mumbled it in your sleep." you responded, continuing to write on your journal. "Well, I can't remember saying that anymore." he shrugged, feeling paranoia gnaw at his bones.
Lucy Gray, let me live.
"It sounds familiar, it's from that tribute - I watched her then, but its been so long I can't even remember." you chuckled, Lucy Gray Baird, the songbird from District 12.
You were enamored by her - intrigued by her voice. Your husband seems to be the same. "Is that why you wanted to name our child Lucy?" he questioned, her name tasted bitter on his tongue. "No, of course not - you'd never approve." you scoffed.
"Why wouldn't I? I don't know Lucy Gray personally." he lied once more, maintaining his narrative. "You told me that the Games were created to remind the Districts of what they are - animals." you remembered, not fully believing his speech. "You would hate me if I named our child after an ... well, someone that you hate."
"Good, and don't mention Lucy Gray ever again." his eyes narrowed.
f1letters' formula 1 fic recs - pt. 1
✨ SURPRISE! ✨ as an early Christmas gift for all of you, and since I will be continuing the 'midnights' series during the holiday season as well, I decided to make a small list with some of my all-time favourite stories!
I tried to include a variety of different drivers to the best of my ability, which was harder than I thought it would be, since some drivers don't have a lot of stories available (every single person writes for alex, lance or esteban deserves a giant smooch from me, I swear), or I don't read them as much. for other ones, I have like 20+ stories saved so it was really hard to stick to only a few! haha
anyways, I hope you enjoy this little present from me and I encourage you guys to check out all of these amazing and talented writers!
happy holidays to all of you lovely people! 💜 - cat
max verstappen | mv1
'long time lovers' || @libraryofloveletters
'little verstappen' || @lxclerc
'traitor' || @lxclerc
'dog days' || @tierneysodegaard || 13 parts
'our dirty little secret' || @timetorace || 2 parts
daniel ricciardo | dr3
'stargazing' || @art-outlaw || 28 parts
'memories hold me hostage' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts
'you abandoned me' || @lovingperfectionsblog || 2 parts
'sweet boy' || @unluckyhoneybee
'twin flame' || @vinvantae || 26 parts
lando norris | ln4
'breaking the rules' || @f1goat || 7 parts
'mini norris' !! @unluckyhoneybee || 2 parts
sebastian vettel | sv5
'after all this time' || @kates-dirty-sister
'chapters from an old book' || @libraryofloveletters
'thin walls' || @tierneysodegaard
pierre gasly | pg10
'pillow' || @illicitlimerence-writes || 4 parts
'one true love' || @mytinycrazymind
'secret' || @mytinycrazymind
'fake it till you make it' || @smoooothoperator || 6 parts
charles leclerc | cl16
'a moment in time' || @hey-kae || 2 parts
'babies and bahrain' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'little enzo' || @mytinycrazymind || 2 parts
'maybe summer doesn't have to end' || @rebelwrites || 11 parts
'the real deal' || @rebelwrites
lance stroll | ls18
'sugar plum' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts
'summer lovin' || @libraryofloveletters
'yule shoot your eye out' || @lovelytsunoda
'the second one' || @unluckyhoneybee
alex albon | aa23
'made in the a.m' || @lovelytsunoda
esteban ocon | eo31
'hot n cold' || @lovelytsunoda
'be my date' || @timetorace || 2 parts
lewis hamilton | lh44
'love you from the sidelines' || @libraryofloveletters
'old flame' || @lostinlewis || 5 parts
'what you can't have' || @luvth0t
mick schumacher | ms47
'dress' || @daydreamingleclerc
'lost in japan' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'romeo & juliet' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'see you later' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'sparkling' || @illicitlimerence-writes
carlos sainz | cs55
'in this lifetime or another' || @libraryofloveletters
'cockblock' || @lxclerc
'nothing happened' || @timetorace
george russell | gr63
'never really over' || @charlewiss-writes
'who you belong to' || @russellsppttemplates
multiple drivers
'bad omens' || @lxclerc || cl16 x pg10
'moth to a flame' || @lxclerc || cs55 x cl16 || 2 parts
'all too well' || @targaryenluv || lh44 x pg10
'are you happy now?' || @oyesmendes || pg 10 x gr63 || 3 parts
PS: if you want, feel free to leave your recommendations in the comments and/or message me! i'm always looking for new fics to read and I'd love to know your favourites! 💜
WTF I'VE BEEN CRYING MY EYES OUT BECAUSE OF THIS AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR PART 2!!!
fragile line | daniel ricciardo
pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader
You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break
what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster
“What do you know?”
“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information.
His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt.
“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try.
“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”
“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.
You.
“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”
“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”
Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was.
“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”
Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did.
You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better.
Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point.
You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues.
Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated.
Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word.
The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco.
Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend.
“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”
You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you.
It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you.
“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there.
You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”
“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”
You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”
“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”
You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you.
But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.
So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager.
He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever.
He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.
He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.
It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen.
He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers.
“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”
Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck.
But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.
Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about.
“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could.
“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?”
You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained.
It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time.
“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.
“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.
“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”
That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.
Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time.
People speculated, of course. Questions were asked.
Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?
You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes.
Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you.
People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking?
But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic.
At least, you thought you didn’t.
Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”
“Are any crashes pretty?”
He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.”
The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing.
“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”
“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.”
You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.”
“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”
And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while.
Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment.
He wasn’t going to let it escape him.
“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you.
You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere.
And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend.
You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could.
Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”
There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips.
You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words.
You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth.
His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him.
When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.
“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications.
But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.
“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”
That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.
Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before.
It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.
When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.
He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain.
But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear.
He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat.
He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.
“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”
It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night.
Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team.
Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time.
People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful.
You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed.
Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too.
It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between.
When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride.
It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car.
Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.
You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you.
When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage.
At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.
You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you.
But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story.
“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday.
You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest.
“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”
“I’m not Australian.”
“You’re dating one, sweets.”
You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered.
“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out.
“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner.
You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts.
“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea.
Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”
He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel.
You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry.
The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.
Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on?
You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.
But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.
Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1.
It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different.
Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race.
And somehow, you won.
After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe.
You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red.
Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you.
Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team.
He was so proud of you.
Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else.
You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching.
It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that.
He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining.
Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name.
Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love.
And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it.
After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love.
You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence.
But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions.
“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?”
You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.
“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face.
Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently.
“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”
“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”
“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”
“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.
The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation.
You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.
Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season.
He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it.
Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren.
But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.
“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”
It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.
Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel.
“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023.
“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”
You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”
“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”
It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early.
It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.
And who were you to turn that down?
A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.
You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”
“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked.
Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.
But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”
And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders.
You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different.
You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break.
Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily.
The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.
The 2023 seat was yours.
You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?
It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news.
But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.
You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?
Right?
You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.
You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.
Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.
Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.
Usually, he was happy to see you.
You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.
“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.
Your heart sank.
You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.
“What do you know?” you asked.
“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.
You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”
“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”
“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”
Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”
“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”
He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.
“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”
It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.
But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.
Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.
“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”
You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.
“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”
“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”
“I think you should go,” was his only response.
“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”
Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Dan-”
“Leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done.
You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work.
“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life.
Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?
You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other.
Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”
You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?
Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?
It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”
He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.
Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.
Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you.
“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”
You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three.
You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.
Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.
You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career.
This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel.
stay tuned for part 2
SOUR | JJK
PAIRING: Boxer Jungkook x Ballerina Reader
GENRE: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE, AU SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST
Words: 10k🥸
WARNINGS: abusive parents, drugs, making out, Jungkook breaking in again, cursing, they're complete opposites, cringe nicknames, ANNOYING fangirls, reader is insecure, polar opposites dynamics, emo boy Jk, inexperienced reader, bullying
SYNOPSIS:
In the world of boxing, Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of an ace with his tattoos and rippling muscles. You, however, are his opposite—a delicate presence. When told you're not his usual type, doubts arise. Are you truly meant for each other?
A/n: Hiiiiiii it's that time again! Hope you enjoy reading this update and please let me know what you think or if you have any ideas I could add in the future also just wanted to take a moment to say ty to each and every one of you who keeps coming back to read my lil stories or just discovering them for the first time whether you've been here for a while or are brand new on this blog! You're all welcome (as long as you're over 18 eep-) 🤍. Let's go feral over this Jungkook together in the asks <3.
Dressed in a black shirt and a pair of loose training shorts, Jungkook's muscles were prominent beneath the fabric as he made his way to the boxing area.
Theres sounds of gloves meeting punching bags through the place and loud music blasting over the speaker as the scent of sweat hang strongly in the air.
Frustration welled up within Jungkook as he caught a glimpse of his self-proclaimed fan club, who seemed to have found their way near the ring. He rolls his eyes.
A surge of annoyance coursed through his veins, and a quiet "fuck" slipped past his lips but is gaze quickly fixed on the boxing ring that stood at the center of the room like a trophy.
Jungkook was pumped to kick some serious ass today, eager to release all the emotions that had been swirling around in his head for the past few days. He was now dating you—the fucking girl of his dreams–what better way to celebrate, than by going all out and fucking up his opponents?
Jungkook had always been passionate about working out, pushing his body to its limits with hardcore training.
But there was something about boxing that ignited... excitement in him—a primal energy that had caught his complete attention.
It was more than just a way to get stronger for him– it was an opportunity to prove his strength, both physical and mentally testing his limits.
The sound of leather gloves connecting with the punching bags, the shouts of trainer Chan motivating his friends who came earlier than him today, all filled him with happiness, only thing that could make today better was you.
But there was no way he'd let you set foot in this place, not with all these sweaty men, weirdos, and the damn crazy fangirls swarming around
Taking a deep breath, Jungkook stepped onto the padded floor, the ring was his sanctuary, a space where he could let his true self shine.
He easily put on a pair of boxing gloves, tightening the straps around his wrists with practiced movements. The weight of the gloves was familiar, a reminder of the victories he had earned over the past years–Jungkook was this gyms–no–this cities pride whenit came to boxing.
Flexing his knuckles inside the gloves, he cracks his neck and looks at Namjoon, his friend and todays opponent.
"Good luck fucker" Jungkook joked earning a laugh from the small crowd that had formed around the ring–and this was just practise, when it came to an actual fight, people would pay thousands to see him go all in.
"You too kid"
With that, the bell rang, and the sounds of punches and grunts began.
-
"Three, two, one... Three, two, one..." Mrs. Chuu acknowledges you with a nod as you flawlessly execute your choreography, just as you had rehearsed these past few weeks.
"And two, and three, and..." Mrs. Chuu furrows her brows, shaking her head. "You're going the wrong way, Y/n," she speaks firmly. "I can't understand why you consistently turn left instead of right." She shakes her head "Again."
You nod, regaining your composure, readjusting your skirt and foot placement, and gripping the ballet bar once more, your body was tense, but from the outside you looked as effortless and soft as possible.
After dedicating a solid seven hours to dancing today–with well-deserved breaks sprinkled in–it was no surprise that exhaustion was settling in.
You were used to this kind of exhaustion. It was like a routine for you, dancing for seven days a week. The only silver lining was that on Fridays, you got a sweet long break only having to be at the studio for 1 hour of stretching—a well-deserved rest day.
"Hey, focus, y/n!" Mrs. Chuus voice snaps you back to reality, making you bitebyour lip for getting caught daydreaming
Your mom was about to arrive any minute now, eager to see your progress. And to be honest, both you and Mrs. Chuu dreaded her arrival. She had this annoying trade to nitpick and find flaws in everything.
"She's gonna be all over you, judging your every move," she sighs, fully aware of what was about to go down.
Your mom's a known perfectionist and a pain in the ass, no doubt about it. "you have to nail this. There's no room for errors L/n" she scolds.
You give a nod, glancing at yourself in the mirror.
You adjust your pose, making sure everything is on point.
As the musiv starts, you immerse yourself in the flow of it, letting it guide your movements. The music fills the room, your body signaling you exactly what to do. You're in your zone now, giving it your best. It's like you and ballet are in perfect sync–one.
You steal a quick glance at Mrs. Chuu, who's watching you intently. She's got that poker face on, not giving anything away. But deep down, you know she's analyzing every step, every turn, every facial expression–maybe even if a strand of hair lays weird.
From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of your mom walking into the studio. She exchanges pleasantries with Mrs. Chuu before her gaze sets on you. Instantly, nerves kick in.
What if you stumble? What if you miss a step? Your mind starts wandering threatening to throw you off balance.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, there's a loud crash that sounds through the studio. You feel yourself losing balance, and before you know it, you're down on your knees, completely crashed on the floor.
The room falls silent, and you can practically feel the weight of your mom's disapproving gaze tearing you apart.
This is it. You're done for.
You brace yourself for the criticism that's about to rain down on you. She's never going to let you hear the end of it. Shit
Her voice breaks the silence. "Y/n L/n." You don't dare look up, too scared to meet her eyes.
"Not one thing can you do right."
You freeze, not surprised by her harsh comment. It feels like a punch to the gut, though, and your breath hitches. You've been working so hard, giving it your all, and now it feels like it's not enough.
You gather your strength, slowly lift your head, and meet her gaze head-on nodding and standing up again, fixing your outfit. "I'm sorry mom" you whisper close to tears, not of sadness, but of stress.
"I'm leaving. You're such an embarrassment," your mom's cutting words hang in the air as she actually walks out, not even bothering to apologize or offer any reassurance.
The embarrassment settles in, and you feel a wave of humiliation wash over you. Getting yelled at in front of Mrs. Chuu was beyond...uncomfortable
But before you have a chance to dwell on the situation, you feel a comforting hand on your shoulder. It's Mrs. Chuu, her presence bringing a sense of solace. She gives you a small smile.
"Everyone makes mistakes, y/n," she says gently, her voice reassuring. She walks over to your bag and gets your water, handing it to you. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You know how your mom can get. You don't have worry about what just happened."
You nod, grateful for her words of encouragement. Mrs. Chuu has always been there for you, not only as a dance instructor but also as someone who understands the relationship between you and your family and the pressures that come with it.
"Thanks, Mrs. Chuu," you say giving her a sad smile.
-
Kook🩷: how's my girls day going?
Today 5pm
A soft smile forms across your face as you read the text message on your phone, causing a faint blush to colour your cheeks. Sitting on the studio floor, with Mrs. Chuu is already gone. You find yourself lost in the moment, thinking of when you would see Jungkook, your boyfriend, again.
"If you only knew, Kookie..." you whisper to yourself, a sad shine in your eyes, and with a quick press of your fingers on the screen, you type out a response tilting your head.
With newfound energy, you gather your belongings and make your way out the studio.
You: good, Im heading home right now. How was yours?
Today 5:07 pm
Jungkook's brows furrow as he looks down at his phone, his expression shifting into a frown. "Good? Just good?" he mutters under his breath, a sense of confusion creeping in. It didn't add up. He was used to receiving a "very good!" or "amazing."
The simplicity of "good" left him feeling unsettled. Something must be off with yoy. Maybe you were just tired, he tried to convince himself, shaking away the negative thoughts.
Just as he's about to lock his phone, determined to put it out of his mind, a girl, Wendy, interrupts his train of thought with a god awful smile. "Jungkookie, we're all going out for drinks. Will you join us?" she asks, her voice carrying a hint of eagerness.
"No," Jungkook responds abruptly, dismissing her invitation. He swiftly grabs his bag, ready to make his exit. However, Wendy insists, stopping him. Annoyed, he glances back at her, his eyes basically telling her to fuck off already.
"But why not? You did such a great job today," Wendy chirps, her voice slowly getting on his nerves "it's on me!"
There's something about her overly cheery demeanour that rubs him the wrong way. Her piercings and tattoos may give off a rebellious vibe, but Jungkook can see through the facade. She's one of those manipulative bullies who always gets what she wants. He knows she's after him, and he hates the thought of him being with someone other than you.
"I'm going home," Jungkook states firmly, repeating his decision, tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"Who's got you by the balls, huh?" Wendy's real demeanor shines through, but Jungkook isn't fazed. He's seen this side of her before.
She had pushed her limits in the past, causing trouble that led to her being kicked out. This gym is not her personal Tinder playground, where she can just stroll in and pick whoever catches her fancy in the moment.
He meets her gaze with a firm expression, his voice laced with anger. "You wanna get kicked out of here again?" he questions, his tone carrying a warning. He knows exactly what she wants from him.
Wendy smirks, her lips forming an enticing pout. "So you know what I want," she sing-songs taking a step closer to him. "Then why don't you give it to me?" Her voice drips with suggestion, her fingers lightly grazing his chest. It's a calculated move and he knows.
Jungkook's expression hardens as he pushes her away, "Back the fuck off, Wendy. Find someone else to fulfill your needy desires. I'm not down," he growls scanning her from head to toe, already reaching for a cigarette to light up once he's outside the building.
What a fucking day
"Get the fuck off my back," he rolls his eyes, dismissing her presence as he confidently walks away.
"Aish" Wendy is left huffing and stomping her feet in frustration, making her way back to her clique.
-
"...I'm feeling lonely..." you sing, playfully belting out the lyrics to a catchy new song while rummaging through your wardrobe.
It was that time of year again—time to declutter and donate some of your clothes. You realize you've accumulated way too many pieces, and it's always a good feeling to give to those who needed it more. This has become a bit of a tradition for you.
As you're completely engrossed in what you're doing, dancing to the beat of your favourite music–knock
Out of nowhere, there's an unexpected knock on your window that jolts you right out of your daydreamjng. You quickly hit pause on your playlist, and with a hint of curiosity, you cautiously look around "what on earth...?" Walking back into your room making eye contact with none other than the one and only Jeon Jungkook, standing on your balcony once again like he owns the place.
You can't help but feel a mix of excitement and panic. Like, damn, how does this guy manage to pop up at the most unexpected moments? He's like a master of surprises. Your master of surprises.
As you lock eyes with Jungkook, a grin stretches across his face, and you can practically see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Is this going to be a regular thing now?" you teasingly ask, opening the window and letting him in, Jungkook adjusts his shirt, his expression back to a smile. Hed once again climbed the tree in front of your window just to see you.
"It's the only way I get to see you. Should I start knocking on your door instead?" he playfully retorts, leaning in for a quick "hello" kiss and the surprise of his spontaneous affection leaves you momentarily stunned, your breath hitching at his unexpected gesture.
"I-I was just cleaning out my closet, though... I don't know if that's so interesting for you," you say, walking back to your walk-in closet and settling back down on the floor amidst the pile of clothes.
"I'll help you," Jungkook smirks, joining you and holding up a cute pink top that you hadn't worn in months. He gazes at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Try this on for me," he suggests, passing you the shirt.
It was a cute shirt, you remember wearing it for practise once or twice.
"You want me to try this on?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook as he holds up the cute pink top. A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and you can tell he's up to something.
Jungkook smirks, his teasing nature in full bloom tonight. "I just want to see how it looks on you," he replies, shrugging. But Jungkook knew what he was doing.
"Well, if you're that eager to see me in this shirt, who am I to deny you the pleasure?" you tease, talking like one of those girls you went to rpivate school with.
Taking the top from him you head to the bathroom to change making Jungkook poke the inside of his cheek.
As you slip into the pink top, you notice that it fits in all the right places. It looks perfectly fjne, accentuating your figure, and you can't deny that it looks great on you. A smile spreads across your face.
Walking back to where Jungkook is waiting, you strike a playful stupid pose, "So, what do you think sir? Does it pass the test?" you ask, twirling slightly to show off the shirt.
Jungkook's eyes widen as he takes in your appearance, clearly impressed by how the shirt enhances your...boo-chest. He smirks, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he responds. "You look cute," he admits, his voice filled with genuine adoration.
You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, flattered by his compliment. "Well, I guess this shirt is a keeper then," you say, getting shy again.
"It's not just the shirt, sugar. It's you. You make everything look incredible," he says, his voice laced with affection.
A smile tugs at your lips, and you reach out to gently brush your fingers against his cheek. "You always know how to make me feel special," you whisper, staring into his dark eyes "I really like you Jungkook" you confess, brushing a stray strand of hair back behind his ear.
"I like you even more," he smirks, playfully pulling you onto his lap "A lot more," he teases, causing you to lightly hit his chest and pout in response.
"So, what exactly are you doing here? You know it's risky, Jungkook... my parents..." you say, biting your lip and sitting up straighter, suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation.
"Well, we'll be fine, sugar. Just be quiet," he reassures you with a smile.
Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Me? Quiet? It's my room!" you complain, shaking your head. "I don't care if they hear me, but seriously, my mom heard you last time. I still can't believe I managed to convince her that there was no one here."
"Because you're my smart girl," he says, raising his eyebrows and playfully pinching your arms. "You're tougher than you look."
You let out a silent sigh, trying to make him understand the seriousnes of the situation.
Taking another piece of clothing from the pile and analyzing it, Jungkook shrugs, saying, "I'm just here because I was bored at home. Can't a boyfriend visit his girlfriend in peace?"
With another playful tap on his chest, you exclaim, "It would be so freaking adorable if my parents wouldn't go all crazy and ruin my life if they found out about us." Frustration lingers in the air as you mindlessly toss the skirt into your "give away" bag, silently hoping to finish decluttering by tonight.
"Seriously, Kookie," you hiff, biting your lip in concern. "Can't you give me a heads-up when you're planning to swing by? It's not always just me in my room, you know." You look at him, your eyes worried.
Jungkook can't help but let out a hearty laugh at your plea, pinching your cheek affectionately. "Kookie, huh? I kinda like that nickname," he admits, before clearing his throat "only from you thoigh, of course"
"Kook..."
Leaning in closer, he whispers, "Alright, alright, I promise I'll try to give you a heads-up next time, sugar," he starts "but you gotta admit, the surprise makes it more thrilling." He smirks, fully aware of the effect he has on you.
You roll your eyes, hitting his arm. "Thrilling, huh? Well, it's not so thrilling when I'm on the verge of a panic attack every time you appear out of thin air." You try to sound annoyed, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips when you look at him. "Poof" you imitate with your hands "like that"
"I'm sorry, sugar. I didn't mean to scare you. I just can't stop thinking about you, i have to see you, even if it means risking your parents' wrath." He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his tone still teasing
You melt into his embrace, "I know, Kookie. I can't stop thinking aboutyou either...," you admit, burying your face in his hard chest. "Just... let's try to be a bit more cautious, okay?."
He holds you tighter, "Absolutely, if that's what my pretty girl wants."
In that moment, as you nestle in his arms, you sigh "this is nice, I never got why people hugged so much until now" you smile kissing his nose. "Let's get this done yeah?" You say pointing to the pile of clothes, Jungkook sighing dramatically. "It's so much..."
-
The walk-in closet is an absolute mess it's bursting at the seams with pants, skirts, and shoes. It's like a fashion explosion in here if you were honest.
And right in the middle of all that fashion shit, you find yourself tangled up with Jungkook, his lips eagerly meeting yours and creating audible smacking noises.
What started as a simple decluttering mission has quickly escalated into a full-blown make-out session.
"Wait," you manage to breathe out, lightly tapping his shoulder. "How do people make out for hours on end?" You take a moment to catch your breath, wiping off some of your lipgloss from Jungkook's smirking lips.
"I don't know, never really cared," he nonchalantly shrugs, gripping your waist as you sit on his lap, ready for another round of kissing. But you put a stop to it.
"No, seriously," you insist, "Have you seen those movies? It's insane how they can keep it up for so long!" You start to rant, but Jungkook interrupts you once again.
"Sugar, you're my girlfriend, but respectfully, shut up and kiss me," he playfully bumps his nose against yours. "You're such an interesting girl, you know that?"
"Wow, I'll just take that as a compliment," you say, raising an eyebrow and pursing your lips playfully. Glancing at the clock, which annoyingly showed 11pm, you let out a sigh of frustration. Time was slipping away, and there was still so much left to do.
As you pondered, Jungkook leaned in, his big hand gently squeezing your hip and pulling you closer "Kiss me again." A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he licked them suggestively.
Caught off guard, you bite your lip, glancing around the room. There was still a lot to be done–it far from complete. But, after a moment of consideration, you give in to the temptation.
Okay, fine. Just a bit more You think to yourself.
With a hushed whisper, you let your agreement slip, your voice shy.
Despite the nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you of the unfinished decluttering, you cave, after all, a little more fun couldn't hurt, right?
Jungkook's lips connected back to yours, and you could feel the intensity of his kiss as his skilled tongue left you breathless. His hands roamed around your body, but always with a respectful touch, only grazing your waist or arm.
With gentle pecks, he playfully nudged his nose against yours, provoking a shy giggle. It felt surreal, as if he couldn't possibly be real.
After a moment, he broke the intimate silence, his voice slightly husky as he asked you, "Hey sugar."
You responded by leaning your head against his hard chest, finding comfort in his embrace.
As you relaxed in his arms, he asked, "Did anything... happen today?" His tone grew more serious, and he cleared his throat, sitting up straighter.
"What? Why do you ask?" confusion formed across your forehead as you furrowed your brows, wondering why he was bringing this up.
He sighed softly, his fingers playing with a stray strand of your hair. "Just because your text seemed a bit off when I asked you about your day earlier" he explained, his eyes searching yours.
Your lips instinctively pressed together as you bit down on them, deep in thought, reflecting on the events of thsi afternoon.
"Everything was fine." you glance at Jungkook, offering a shrug, it was a lie, but you didn't want to burden him with the truthful details of your mom completely losing it.
Jungkook wasn't stupid, and he could tell when you were lying. "Aish" He let out a soft sigh, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "Why don't you want to tell me?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
The soft touch and the way he looked at you made you squirm uncomfortably. You were so used to people not caring about your problems that it felt strange for Jungkook to actually be interested. Did he truly care, or was he just asking out of obligation as your boyfriend? The doubt crept into your mind, leaving you questioning his intentions.
"It's not a big deal," you shrugged, trying to downplay the situation. But, deep down, you knew it bothered you.
Unconsciously, you pulled away slightly, creating a small distance between the two of you.
Jungkook noticed your this and sighed, using his strong arms and pulling you back in.
He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against the side of yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. "It's a big deal if it makes you sad, sugar," he admitted.
Still hesitant, you shrugged again, as if trying to convince both him and yourself. "I messed up at practice today," you finally admitted, your voice frustrated.
"But see, it's not a big deal. It just annoys me," you added, your agitation becoming apparent. You were trying to maintain your independence and not burden him with your struggles, but deep down, you longed for his understanding and support. For comfort.
"Yeah, I get that," Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the couch behind him. His eyes scanned your figure, taking in your body language. "I feel the same way sometimes when I lose fights or make mistakes. It's frustrating, but I guess there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" He chuckled lightly, playfully poking your cheek.
"You're incredibly talented, sugar," he stated, his voice sincere and encouraging. "Don't let one slip-up fuck up your mood. Everyone has their off days. It doesn't define you."
He shifted his attention to the chaotic scene of the closet, where piles of clothes were still scattered on the floor. A mischievous grin appeared on his face as he surveyed the mess. "Let's finish this, huh?"
-
"You're in a good mood, Jeon," Chan his trainer, noticed, playfully hitting his side with the boxing glove on his hand. "Finally got laid?" he joked, trying to provoke a reaction, which earned him an even harder hit from Jungkook.
"Fuck off, man. Not everything always has to be about sex," Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Wow, Jeon Jungkook not thinking about sex? What happened to you, man?" Chan couldn't help but laugh at Jungkook's response.
However, he quickly let it go, glancing down at his watch. "It's 5pm already. Do you want to do one more match, or should we call it a day?" he asked, giving Jungkook the option to decide.
A mischievous smirk spread across Jungkook's face as he pondered the question. "Let me beat you up one more time," he replied with a harsh glint in his eyes. He was eager for another round, ready to release his pent-up energy in the ring.
"Damn, just look at him" Wendy lets out a sigh, absentmindedly toying with her lipring as she fixates her gaze on Jungkook's intense fight in the ring. The way his muscles ripple beneath that shirt of his with each punch he delivers is straight-up sexy.
"I mean, seriously, he's smoking hot," another girl chimes in, unable to resist biting her lip and shooting heart-eyed glances in his direction.
Lisa, shakes her head disapprovingly and takes a sip of her soda, "Come on, guys, get real." She rolls her eyes at the infatuated girls, knowing all too well that they're letting their imaginations run wild.
"You're all living in a fantasy world," she scoffs. "Let's be honest here, he's way out of your leagues. That guy probably has biker girls lining up for him, not just groupies like you." She laughs
The girls stand stunned into silence, their jaws practically hitting the floor exchanging bewildered glances "she's such a bitch," the girls mumble in unison as they turn on their heels and walk away, clearly annoyed by Lisa's remarks.
Meanwhile, Lisa can't help but chuckle mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the reaction playfully bumping fists with her girlfriend Jihyo.
"You know, babe, I love it when you drop those truth bombs," Jihyo laughs, planting a tender kiss on lisas cheek.
As their attention returns to the scene unfolding in the ring, Lisa's curiosity gets the best of her "Hey, do you think our dear Kook has a girl hiding that he's not telling us about?"
Jihyo ponders the question, her eyes fixed on Jungkook as he throws punches. "It's definitely a possibility," she responds, shrugging nonchalantly. "I mean, he's been leaving practice early lately, and he even canceled plans with us a few times. Something's up."
Lisa nods, her intrigue growing. "Hmm, interesting. Can't blame him though. If he's that committed to her, she must be someone special—definetly a keeper."
"Alright, alright, you win," Chan spits out, visibly frustrated, as he yanks off his gloves and tosses them aside.
"Didn't you tell me not to overreact when I lose? Yet here you are, Mr. Condescending," Jungkook laughs sarcastically.
He takes a swig of water, relishing in the victory. Disregarding the empty bottle, he casually tosses it into the nearby trash can.
"Fuck ofd" chan rolls his eyes
"Hey, I'm just keeping you on your toes," Jungkook retorts playfully
Chan stares at him, growling something as he walks towards the changing rooms, slamming the door leaving Jungkook behind, a smirk playing on his lips.
Spotting his friend Namjoon nearby, he can't resist extending a victorious fistbump. "Man, winning against our coach? Good job, man!" Namjoon chuckles, the amusement between them evident.
"Fuck yeah, m really showed him who's boss," Jungkook replies, giving Joon a nudge
Casually reaching into his pocket, Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lights it up with a flick of his lighter. He takes a drag, exhaling a plume of smoke, and then looks at Joon with a raised eyebrow. "You smoking?" he asks, nodding towards the exit inviting him for a quick smoke break.
Joon shakes his head, a hint of resignation in his expression. "Nah, man. I quit. You know how Jinny always bugs me about it," he replies, shrugging his shoulders. He glances at the cigarette dangling between Jungkook's fingers.
"Fair enough," Jungkook responds, taking another drag from his cigarette before flicking the ash away.
As Joon starts to walk away, he rememberes something, prompting him to halt in his tracks "Hey, by the way," he interjects, his voice calm. "When were you planning to let me in on the secret that you've got a girl at home?"
Jungkook's eyes widen, caught off guard by Joon's question. "How'd you dind out?" he asks, his tone filled with curiosity.
Joon smirks, raising an eyebrow "Saw a text message from 'sugar' on your phone earlier," he says.
Jungkook's surprise transforms into a faint smile, a hint of a smile breaking through his tough exterior. "Well, you caught me," he admits.
"As long as you're happy, man," Joon adds, his tone softening. "You seem calmer lately. Must be good for you."
"Mh" Jungkook hums taking another drag
"Gotta go now, see you tomorrow," Jungkook says casually, walking over to his bike and putting on his helmet.
Unbeknownst to him, Wendy and Irene, overhear his words and exchange mischievous glances.
"Did you hear that?" Wendy gasps, her eyes widening with excitement. "A girl? Jeon Jungkook's got a girlfriend!" Her voice is filled with surprise and a hint of jealousy.
"No way," Irene scoffs, crossing her arms and smirking. "Must be some girl for Jungkook to actually commit." She takes a final puff of her cigarette, casually blowing the smoke into the air.
"Right? Seriously, though, which girl hasn't he fucked?" Wendy scoffs, dramatically rolling her eyes. Irene, unfazed, simply shrugs saying "you" earning herself a playful punch in the ribs from Wendy.
"Not yet," Wendy grins mischievously. "Trust me, he'll give in eventually. Girlfriend or not, mark my words." She smirks confidently, swiping her friend's cigarette and taking a drag for herself.
"Okay, whatever," Irene sighs, her eyes rolling in annoyance. "I've got to go pick up my little sis from ballet class now. Catch you later, loser."
-
"One, two, three One, two, three" Mrs. Chuu's voice fills the dance studio, her words sounding over the music. She stands at the front, conducting the ballet class with a keen eye. "Amazing, girls, Keep it up!" she encourages.
Moving carefully, she begins to make her way around the room, inspecting each girl's posture and offering corrections.
"Joy, straighten up, my dear," Mrs. Chuu advises gently, her voice carrying a tone of guidance.
Turning her attention to Mina, Mrs. Chuu raises her voice slightly to be heard over the music. "Not too fast, Mina," she advises.
As Mrs. Chuu walks by Sana, she notices a slight tension in the girl's expression. "Watch your facial expression, Sana," she reminds her.
Then, Mrs. Chuu's gaze falls upon you, "Y/n." Her experienced eyes scan your form from head to toe, evaluating your progress. "You're doing good," she remarks, her words accompanied by a warm smile.
-
Slipping off your worn-out ballet shoes, you let out a heavy sigh, relieved that today's ballet practice was a group session rather than an intense solo session with Mrs. Chuu. Although the pressure seemed somewhat alleviated during group rehearsals, you couldn't deny the exhaustion that rushes through your body.
As you gather your breath, a friendly voice interrupts your thoughts. "Hey, Y/n, can I borrow a pen?" It's Joy, a girl from your class who was around the same age as you.
You respond with a nod, returning her smile. "Sure, Here you go," you say, retrieving a pen from your bag and handing it over.
Taking a moment to catch your breath and stretch your tired muscles, you look at yourself in the mirror, checking your hair and makeup, you were seeing Jungkook after this after all.
A few more moments pass and there's only you and Joy left in the studio, you give her a small smile and type on your phone while she does the same
You: I'm done with practise now, beach later?☺️
Today 6pm
Kookie🩷: can't, im a bit far
Today 6pm
You frown "oh" pouting you type an okay, turning off your phone and gathering your things to head home.
As you lift your gaze, ready to head out, you nearly let out a surprised scream when you spot Jungkook casually leaning against the door of the studio, as if he owns the place.
Your eyes dart towards Joy, still engrossed in her phone, oblivious to the presence of the leather-clad man standing at the entrance.
With wide eyes and a racing heart, you quickly make your way towards the door, feeling a surge of panic.
Without uttering a single word, you grab Jungkook's wrist and guide him into the nearby janitor's room for more privacy and safety from any prying eyes.
"What are you doing here, Jungkook?" you whisper with concern, "You're practically begging to get me into trouble at this point," you add
Jungkook smirks in response, his gaze fixed on you. "Chill, sugar. No one saw me," he reassures leaning in, his intention clear as he moves in for a kiss, but you instinctively stop him, your hand placed firmly against his chest.
"Yet," you scoff, a note of panic creeping into your voice. "No one saw you yet," you repeat, emphasizing the word 'yet'.
Jungkook's smirk fades slightly, "Okay, okay," his tone shifts to a more serious one. "I'll be more careful. I didn't mean to worry you," his voice softened.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you glance at the door, "We should go back before someone notices," you suggest, grabbing his wrist
"Sugar," Jungkook stops you, tilting his head with a raised brow. "Did I ever tell you that you look cute when you're upset?" His comment manages to both annoy and make you blush.
As he tilts your chin up, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, causing your pout to fade away almost instantly. It's hard to stay mad at him for too long.
But reality quickly sets back in, and you regain your serious tone. "We really have to leave," you insist, taking his hand once again, ready to make an exit.
However, he stops you in your tracks with a tilded head
A smirk plays on Jungkook's lips as he raises an eyebrow suggestively. "ever made out in a janitor's closet?" He steps closer, pulling you towards him,
You can't help but blush at his question, a mixture of surprise and curiosity bubbling inside you.
His boldness always catches you off guard. But as tempting as the idea sounds, you try to maintain your compostire, aware of the potential consequences. "Jungkook, we can't just-"
Before you can finish your sentence, his lips find yours once again, interrupting your protests with a kiss. In that moment, all rationality drifsts away as desire takes over.
Eventually, the need for air pulls you both back to reality, as you catch your breath, a small smirk tugs at the corners of Jungkook's lips. "See? Sometimes it's worth taking a little risk," he whispers with satisfaction.
"You're impossible," you mutter, unable to hide the smile on your face.
Irene's heels echoed through the studio, the sharp clacking sounds against the polished marble floor. She nonchalantly popped a gum bubble, her eyes scanning the various rooms in search of the right one. Spotting her sister, Joy, engrossed in her phone, Irene let out a small sigh.
"Yo, sis! Let's bounce. I've got a dick appointment lined up once I drop you off," she muttered, jingling the keys in her hand and waiting for her sister to join her.
Joy frowned, tucking her phone into her pocket and grabbing her bag. "Wait, I thought Mom was picking me up," she said, confusion on her face as she walked towards her sister.
Irene rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling into a sarcastic smile. "Change of plans, i guess," she replied dismissively, eyeing Joy from head to toe. "Nice tutu," she scoffed before strutting off, not bothering to wait for Joy to catch up.
Bit irene's jaw practically hits the floor when she catches sight of Jungkook strolling around the corner, hand in hand with someone whos outfit looks very familiar to her sisters.
Her eyebrows shoot up, and she quickens her pace, determined to catch up with you. With a stupid smirk, she grabs hold of Jungkook's wrists and teases, "Jungkookie, how adorable! So, you're picking up your sister too?"
Chewing her gum with a playful grin, Irene looks up at Jungkook, seemingly unfazed by his intimidating presence.
Meanwhile, your eyes meet Joy's, both of you wearing puzzled expressions, before shifting your gaze back to Irene, who still has her hand on your boyfriend's.
"You're Joy's sister?" you inquire, offering a friendly smile to Irene, hoping to clear up the tension. However, instead of a warm response, you receive a judging glare from her. "Yeah, whatever," she mutters dismissively.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by Irene's behavior, and scans her from head to toe, taking in her shabby outfit.
"Oh? So, she's your cousin then?" Irene continues her interrogation
Quickly correcting her assumption, you speaknup with a bright smile, "No, actually, Jungkook is my boyfriend." The words slip out confidently
Irene momentarily stops chewing her gum, her eyes judging your appearance from head to toe. With a burst of laughter, she mocks, "That's the girl? Seriously? You've been leaving practice early for... her?" The sound of her laughter makes your brows furrow in confusion.
What was wrong with the way you looked?
"Irene, enough," Jungkook interrupts, his voice dripping with anger. He tightens his grip on your hand, his face agitated.
Without wasting another moment, he starts walking out, with you hand in hand, slamming the entrance door shut behind him with you.
As you step outside, the fresh air hits your face. Jungkook squeezes your hand reassuringly, breaking the silence. "Don't pay attention to her," he says, his voice soft yet determined, as if trying to shield you from Irene's hurtful words.
Before you can even gather your thoughts, you find yourself about to ask what the actual fuck just happened, but his words stop you in your tracks.
"She's one of the girls that goes to my gym, don't mind her, I've never-" he starts "I didn't have sex with her or anything" he finishes, "I promise."
You nod slowly, your lower lip involuntarily pouting as you stare at the ground. "Why was she so mean to me?" you murmur, feeling a wave of hurt wash over you.
In that moment, you release Jungkook's hand, your fingers no longer intertwined with his.
Jungkook lets out a sigh, his expression softening as he reaches up to brush away a stray strand of hair from your face. "Irene's friend has been trying to make a move on me," he explains, his voice tinged with frustration. He then cups your chin gently, lifting your gaze to meet his. "But you know I would never cheat on you, right?" he asks earnestly, his eyes searching for yours.
You take a moment to absorb his words, looking into his eyes. "Of course I know that, Kookie. I trust you completely. It was just... very sudden." Your words are laced with irritation, as you remind yourself that Irene's words should mean anything to you
Feeling a sense of relief, Jungkook pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he always did. "Shes a mean girl" he murmurs, his voice filled with spite. "I'm sorry you had to go throug that, that's the reason I don't... I don't mention you around the gym, the poeple there... they can be harsh" he admits poking your rib to cheer you up.
"Please, don't ever think I'm damn embarrassed of you or anything like that," Jungkook says, his voice filled with sincerity. He steps back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze unwavering. "You're my girl, and I'm gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe and sound."
His words wash over you, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you take in the sincerity behind his words. The weight on your shoulders seems to lighten just likebthat.
Wrapping your arms around Jungkook, you lean into his embrace, resting your head against his chest. "I know"
SERIES MASTERPOST
@kooliv @sexymenandcuteanimals101 @tatyhend @idontevenknow75 @dunixxd @saweetspoiled @codeinebelle @telepathytae @faepurity @koobsessed @jooniesxbby @bebejungkook @sxtaep @janedukiesworld @outro-kook @grasstrainerjoonie @ziko @jungshook7 @zerocge @dodoneck @beahonomo @jiimtaee @nervoustyphoonpersona @fan-ati--c @koobsessed @nucleo-bang-tan @sincerelyflora @lil-sracha @sweetonkookieandtae @exactlygreatcoffee @hoseokteardrop @aeonianamour @chaelvrx @genkima @gamer-carat @seokjinspinkslipper @kelsyx33 @loveejkk
Ghost Rider - Rooster - Masterlist
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x pilot female reader
Summary:
You lived up to your callsign, Ghost. You hid and then scared the crap out of people in the sky. As an incredibly decorated officer for your age, you were called back to Top Gun for a dangerous mission. Despite your best intentions, the people on this mission - specifically one - would do their best to get you out of hiding, getting you out of your comfort zone of the shadows and into a lively world.
Chapters:
One - 28 August 2022
Two - 31 August 2022
Three - 4 September 2022
Four - 6 September 2022
Five - 7 September 2022
Six - 19 September 2022
Seven - 3 November 2022
Eight - 11 December 2022
Nine - 3 March 2023
Epilogue
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