Ansgt - Blog Posts

“We’re for life y’know so, stop it. Stop doing this to me y’know I need you.”

✎ᝰ. Part one.

Black!Reader x Rockstar!Touya!

Now playing..

-Self Righteous by Bryson Tiller-

0:00 •━━━━───── 04:02

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ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

📢: toxic relationship, unexpected pregnancy!, drug addiction + alcohol addiction!, smut, angst, he’s an asshole, and bad writing!

Trust me baby it’s hard to give it up, it’s tough.

He remember the day you left him. It was probably one of his clearest memories and one that he regretted a lot.

“I’m getting better I fuckin’ swear! It’s just for recreational use—“ He tried to explain himself but you cut him off “Touya don’t give me that shit” You pointed your manicured finger in his chest harshly “I can’t believe you—no..no you promised to me! You promised to me you stopped!” The sheer pain in your voice made him wince he didn’t like to hurt you (but he seemed to do it a lot didn’t he? Time and time again he lost count now)

“The doctor said it’s okay as long as I do it in small doses—“

“Shut the fuck up! Stop trying to defend yourself. And what doctor? Cause I know you’re not talking about Garaki!”

He sighed rubbing his face feeling his blood rush to his brain the pills were already kicking in and he could barely hear you curse him out. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Are you even listening to me?” Fuck. He heard that little crack in your voice the one that always came out when you were mad and about to cry. It almost broke his heart.

“You want me to be honest? No I’m not because it’s not a big deal. It just small doses to get me through the day I can control it.” He said his voice so sure and he gestured with his hand to the pill bottle in your hand.

You looked at him in disbelief and at his sheer audacity your throat burning with the sensation that let you know you were about the cry. You threw the pill bottle at the wall and it popped open the containments going everywhere. Touya let out a frustrated groan his eyes flickering between the bottle and you “God, why do you have to be so dramatic! Making this shit so complicated.”

You stuck your middle finger at him turning around to the stairs “Fuck you! I am so sick of you and your shit. “ You voice was angry as you headed up not even bothering to look back at him ignoring his mutterings. “The next time you’re crying in the shower or in the hospital for overdosing don’t even bother calling my number.” You didn’t even try to hide the tears as they flowed down your cheek.

He should see how much he hurt you.

“Oh so that’s what we’re doing? You don’t really mean that and we both know it.” His tone was so dismissive and so aggravating you turnt to look at him your lip curled in disgust.

You saw him pause at the tears and the bastard had the audacity to look away “Don’t feel guilty now and I’m deadass.” You said grabbing the gold necklace at your neck that had the delicate little ‘D’ letter hanging off of it (he gave it to you your first anniversary and back then he was so sweet and loving—) and promptly ripped it off throwing it harshly down the stairs.

You saw the way he turnt his head back his eyes immediately going to where he heard the sound and you saw the way his eyes widened. He looked at the object like it was foreign something he could barely comprehend.

He shook his head trying to keep his composure because he could feel it, his anger coming to the surface and him angry and high wasn’t a good mix. “You think that,” he gestured vaguely to the necklace “is ‘suppose to me make what? Say sorry? It’s just a fuckin’ necklace and you’re acting like I’m doing coke it’s just pills.”

There he goes acting like he was right in this situation downplaying your feelings.

He would ‘quit’ go through withdrawal and then he would start again and It was always ‘light pills’. Then he would want something stronger, and when that wouldn’t satisfy him he would want something more higher grade. It’s how he’d get enlisted in the hospital and this was his starting third time.

You couldn’t take it anymore the last time he—he had to take a break from his career one that got him a lot backlash from critics and his fans. And now he was acting like he was invincible? This was so tiring and you were exhausted dealing with this.

With him and his demons.

So you didn’t even respond back to him. Didn’t even give him a glance as you went upstairs and packed your bags. And when you came downstairs an hour later and saw him in the kitchen drinking you scoffed not even saying a goodbye.

He didn’t chase you. No you always did that.

But when those two weeks passed and you still didn’t come back on his doorstep he called your phone and learned that you blocked him.

He scoffed “Doesn’t matter..fuck her..abandoning me..”

But it did matter. Because you dug a tight little hole in his heart that yearned for your warmth ever since the day you left. (I need you—I fuckin’ need you. I’m so sorry I know..I know I’m a piece of shit but I need you—)

I guess it's my fault, I know what's up.

Everything was his fault because it was always his fault. He was always the one hurting and hurting and you were the one who always forgave and forgave. (You were always too good for him, you were a good girl you didn’t belong with somebody like him. You deserved to be with a nice man who treated you right and as much as he wanted that for you he fuckin’ hated the idea of you being with someone else.)

So the least thing he could do is give you some space so you could breathe and come to peace before he would walk back into your life and destroy everything with his ‘I’m sorrys’ and your favorite flowers.

In that time, his life got both simpler and more complicated. Simpler, because you weren’t there anymore—no one was nagging him about the smoking or the drinking. No one was in his ear, begging him to take care of himself. He could do whatever he wanted without your voice holding him accountable. It was like he was finally free.

But complicated, because without you, everything undoubtedly spiraled.

It wasn’t the drugs that sent him to the hospital this time, though. No, this time, it was something else—a different kind of wake-up call. One that came with sterile white walls, the beeping of machines, and a doctor who looked too tired to bother sugarcoating the truth

He could die if he didn’t stop drinking.

Two years. That’s all they gave him. His liver was already weak enough but now it was waving the white flag. He remembered sitting in that hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to laugh it off like he always did. But the laugh didn’t come.

Because for the first time, he realized that all the nights spent drowning his thoughts, all the times he’d chosen the bottle over you—over everything—had brought him here.

(You were listed as his emergency contact when they found him passed out. You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer. Why was he surprised you basically foreshadowed this life dangering situation. Because you were always right and right and he always was so, so wrong.)

Baby, we used to fuck (from now on we make love)

He missed those legs fuck. Those things were the only reason why he did missionary he swears on it. Feeling the plush of your inner thighs and the sheer warmth there made him smile like actually smile. And when he was drowning himself in them your legs closed around him and he could barely hear you asking if he was okay because you didn’t want to suffocate him.

But he didn’t care because the taste of your cum on his tongue was better than any drug he’s ever had in his life (and feeling your thighs tremble as he kept going ‘n going. perfection.) He missed you pussy dearly she always took him so well squeezing around him, being sooo warm, and making him cum. Not to mention that feeling he always got which he didn’t want to lose for the world but he lost it shit!. (his pupils blown wide dilated from the pleasure and adrenaline from being inside you. His cock pumping in and out of your puffy cunt while his lips sucked on your collarbone branding your skin with his marks of lust love leaving your brown skin with red hickeys in his wake. )

He couldn’t lie and pretend and say he didn’t miss you. He missed his girl. (He hoped nobody was in that pussy when he wasn’t there. Nobody deserved to be in there besides him thank you very much)

And your eyes (sexy brown eyes ) damn your eyes. They weren’t lying when they said ‘eyes are the window to the soul’ because he saw everything and he loved seeing that pleasure pool in them and the ‘I want you to stop but I don’t want you stop’ written all over your face. Ugh it was priceless. He missed seeing those eyes when he woke up in the morning looking at him with so much love and warmth (“touya stop staring at me it’s creepy.” He remembers you saying and he replied with a “nah, I get to wake up to this sight everyday can’t I be appreciative?”) He should’ve been more appreciative but selfishness runs through his blood and it’s in his nature. He can’t help it. He’s sorry he didn’t mean to hurt you. Take me back, please I need you. He missed seeing those eyes when got back from tour and finally got to see them in person after months on FaceTime. He missed seeing those eyes when he was in his darkest moments and you never looked at him like he was a monster you just wanted to help. He took it for granted. He took it for granted. This is all your fault. Take responsibility. He missed seeing those eyes.

Girl, let's catch up, phone calls ain't enough

That's where I messed up, I shoulda kept in touch

He would’ve kept in touch. He tried to keep in touch with you. But you blocked him and don’t ask him how he got your new number.

Come back home

You don’t gotta forgive me I just wanna talk

I’m a piece of shit I know but i got help I got put in rehab again and it’s been 3 months. I’ve been trying like actually and I haven’t missed any days and it’s all for you. Please let me be better for you.

But you never answered. You didn’t even leave him on seen. Did it hurt? Of course it did it felt like the little space you dug in his heart was going to be empty forever and you would never come back to fill it up. He would never admit but he cried himself to sleep sometimes because you were suppose to be right beside him letting him spoon you.

It wasn’t suppose to be this way. God he’s such an asshole.

Cause I ain't the type that will hit it and quit it

Even if it's mine, even if it isn't

Take them trips and pay yo' ass a visit

And then. And then you texted him. It was the middle of the day to when he was doing a recording session.

1-12-8 Shinjuku, Shinjuku Ward, Tokyo 160-0022, Japan

When he saw the message he felt starstrucked. Because the last time he texted you was a month ago and he had been busy with working on this album. He felt his breath hitch reading the message ‘okay Shinjuku? she only lives half an hour away what the fuck’ okay this wasn’t bad. “Gotta go, you guys finish your parts.” He said half dazed and half distracted grabbing his things and leaving not even hearing Toga say “wait where ya going?”

Holy shit. You were allowing him back in if this address was anything to go by. But why? I mean he’s very happy he is (he would do better this time. He fuckin’ had to because you were his everything and then more) but this was so random, he thought you were never going to respond to his texts and he was even more surprised you didn’t straight up tell him to fuck off when he texted you. And that gave him hope because he wasn’t blocked yet.

And now here he was speeding on the highway all the way to Shinjuku because he was back in. He wanted to call you and ask why now? But he felt like you wouldn’t have answered until he got to the apartment because that’s the type of shit you would do.

He looked around as he parked in the parking lot. It was a simple apartment complex nothing to fancy although the grass did looked like it needed to be cut. There weren’t any shady figures looming around so that’s good that you weren’t in a bad area because if he could he would move you out so quick.

He rubbed at his face tiredly feeling his nerves run through him. God why was he nervous get a grip Touya isn’t this what you’ve wanting since she left? So breathe. And he did it’s one of things that actually stuck with him from rehab it gave him a sense of control. Or at least a faux one because he was never in control not one time in his life

He got out his car shutting the door and locking it before pulling up your address again from the text. Except the door number wasn’t there so he had to text you.

What’s your door number?

He waited like a good two minutes before he saw the seen pop up and then no response. Okay weird and then he heard a door being opened making him look up to the second floor.

Oh.

Oh.

You dyed your hair? It was a honey brown color all over and was tied back in a slicked bun. Your eyes met his and he felt himself swallow hard and maybe he fell in love all over again. You then went back inside your apartment not a word from your lips and he quickly went to the stairs a couple feet away.

He rushed up and hurried down the walk to your door and promptly froze.

What.

What?!

Before he could even say anything you cut him off your voice soft and surprisingly calm (he was expecting anger for the most of it) “I don’t wanna hear nothing from your mouth until I say what I have to say. So come in and close the door.”

He swallowed hard again because there was to much going on and he was experiencing too much right now. He wasn’t expecting this. He felt dizzy, he felt like his head was spinning and spinning trying to wrap its self around this situation. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to bolt out the fuckin’ door and never come back. He-he—

Because here you are in the middle of your small living room holding a bundle of what he—of a—a bundle to your chest.

At your look he somehow had managed to turn around and close the door shut locking it and then turning around almost robotically. He eyed the bundle and saw a shift of movement which made you adjust your position. He felt his whole body freeze because no! He wa—wasn’t he..wasn’t ready. This had to be a dream—please let it be a dream!

His eyes flickered to the bundle, then to you, then to the bundle again. This shit couldn’t be real, it had to been some sick dream nightmare his brain made up and he was asleep in the studio right? Right?!

And then you started talking and everything went downhill from there.

“I was already pregnant..when I left. Maybe a week or so before and I was planning on telling you but I was scared.”

Touya felt something try to escape from his mouth but nothing came out. He remained speechless his throat closing up and his heart hammering in his chest so hard it echoed to his ears. This felt like being on adderall all over again except he wasn’t doing it for some motivation this felt like his drink got spiked.

He was staring at the bundle so hard he’s pretty sure lasers were about to come out. And then—and then he saw an a-arm escaping the blanket before going back in. “I..” His throat felt like it was on fire like and it reminded him of drinking whiskey the burn taste usually so welcomed but right now it it was unwelcomed.

“You weren’t ready.” Your voice steady and calm. You seemed so composed like you practiced for this in your head for days and you probably did. But he could see it the nerves the slight tremble of your finger and you still hadn’t look at him. Did it hurt so much to look at him? If it did he would understand he was still due for his punishment.

“Neither was I. And I..I thought about it. Aborting the baby and I was gonna do it for you. Because I know you’re not ready to be a father and all it would do was hurt you. But I was so s-sick of doing shit for you, thinking about your opinion, and how you felt when I didn’t even consider my own feelings.”

Your voice cracked just slightly but you swallowed it down rocking the baby gently as if to calm yourself. You still hadn’t looked at him

Touya’s knees felt like they were about to give out and the dizzying felt worse. “I—I would’ve been there for you. I wouldn’t have abandoned you y’know this—“

But you cut him off sharply “We both know that’s a load of shit.” Your huff of amusement felt like a slap across the cheek. He flinched and he couldn’t help but feel offended and he wanted to say anything to defend himself but he knew you were right.

“You weren’t in a place where I could tell you. You weren’t even in a place where I could stay. I didn’t feel safe around you Touya and when you get in that mindset..you get erratic.”

Ouch.

Your words felt like he was being cut open slowly by knives. His flesh, muscles, bone and blood revealed for all to see. Cutting around his skin sharply and deeply no mercy in your voice (he didn’t deserve it anyway). He felt a pang of guilt hammering in his chest, this wasn’t just a conversation this was his reckoning.

This is your punishment.

He felt at a lost of words once again because he didn’t know what to say or what you wanted him to say. His apology would mean shit and you both would know it but him saying nothing at all would make the silence worse.

“You texted me saying you got into rehab for me..and I don’t know whether to believe that or not. Because you say a lot of shit to convince me to go back to you. So is it true or are you lying to me?”

You were the executioner and he was the condemned looking up at you as you were about to bring the axe down if he didn’t spit the truth out now.

You finally had looked at him your eyes flashing with pain before it disappeared like it was never there in the first place. He swallowed hard and the man that had been hiding behind arrogance and all the bravado finally came out (he couldn’t wear the mask any more. Show yourself. Who are you Touya Todoroki?)

“It’s true. I’ve been off of it for awhile now..and the alcohol.” His voice had been softer than he intended to it almost sounded..fragile.

Was that enough? No it never was. He let his face show his real emotions because nonchalance wasn’t something you deserved right now. He needed to be honest with you, something you never got while you two were together.

His hands itched at him to do something to reach for you, offer proof that didn’t exist, but he stayed rooted in his place.

“I’m not lying,” He added his voice cracking at the edges (show yourself. show her.) “You—you were right about..how I would be in the hospital again. I deserved it.” ‘I deserved everything’ was unspoken but it was heard and he didn’t know if it was on deaf ears.

His declaration sat in the air heavy its weight crushing him and your eyes burned into his. You needed more and he would give you more. Anything even if it meant allowing the guilt, the sheer shame, and the fear show up on his face. Something he never would’ve done in the past because it was pathetic but now? He deserved to feel pathetic.

He deserved to be down on his knees begging for your forgiveness to be allowed back into your life again. And so that’s what he did.

He walked away from the door slowly so you could see his actions as he made his way over to you showing you exactly what he was doing. Getting down on his knees looking up at you like you determined life and death and in this case you did. You looked at him in barely hidden shock your lips parted to say something but he cut you off. “I messed up..I messed us up.” He confessed like the dammed tied up in chains of all his lies, manipulations, and failures. His voice had dropped lower almost to a whisper and it sounded desperate.

“Please,” His voice rasped. “Please believe me. I don’t wanna hurt you again. Let me be the one to help you with this. Let me take all of your pain because I deserve all of it. I don’t blame you for leaving me. I don’t. I’m to much ‘fuckin work, too much damage, too much for anyone to handle. You shouldn’t have to drain yourself for me. So I get it—I understand.”

You said nothing in return but he caught it the way your grip around the baby tightened and the shaky breath that followed right after. His voice was gaining strength even as his composure was breaking and cracking finally showing you the man who you fell in love with.

“I took you for granted,” he continued his voice was raw and full of pain “But I’m taking responsibility now. I’m being mature something I know you needed in the past and I know I’m too late. But I’ve grown and I want you to see that. And I meant it when I said I went to rehab for you. I needed to get better. For you. For…” He looked up at the bundle you were cradling so gently and he had to take it in on how perfect you looked. (He felt like he was intruding and that he didn’t belong here looking at something so sacred.) His throat tightened again as the reality of it slammed into him like a wrecking ball. You’re a father now Touya. He wanted to throw up but he swallowed it down. Be a man, be a man for her. “I’m gonna continue to do better..for the both of you.”

You didn’t respond right away, and the silence that followed felt deafening. He had to fill it up he didn’t want to lose you. “You don’t have to let me back into your life not if you don’t want to. And that’s fine I just..I just want to help you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Part 1 done yippe! I’m so happy I got this done and didn’t let it rot in my drafts for months. Please please please leave feedback even an emoji something that’ll keep me motivated.

٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- (I’m so serious leave something 🤬)

Remeber me…

Miguel O’Hara X Blk!Reader !!Fluff!!

!Coming Soon!

—————————————

AHHHHHH HIIIII, so I had a little ideaaaa and I wanna make a fic where Miguel and reader are divorced but still raise Gabriella together(Miguel started dating reader after Gabriella was born.) And although their going through a rough patch they still want to both show their love to Gabriella ykwim? I could use some tips cause this is my first time writing on tumblr😭

I kind of love the thought of V1 just not wanting to kill. Like sure, they have to, they were built for it, but they're sentient. They know their actions have consequences. They know they're separating families, that these are people, even if they don't remember being people.

They didn't want to kill V2, the one person that they thought could understand them. V2 just picked a few fights with them and the arms kind of just dropped.

They felt bad for killing their kin, it didn't have to end this way. They were just so angry at it all that it boiled over. So they're keeping the arm on them like a memory.

They're feel so guilty for what they've done, for what they've caused, but can't say anything. There is nothing that can give them speech. So they're stuck yelling in their own head. They can't even cry.

They gave mercy to Gabriel because they understand he simply was protecting the people of hell from those who were invading and wiping out everything in their path. Just killing off hell like they did earth.

They spare the Ferryman (or atleast I hope yall did),make friendship with the terminals, free the Prime souls.

They know the Earthmover is also trapped there, down where no one will hear their wails of agony. And I don't know if it's just a mercy kill, or because of their programming overriding everything else. Might be a bit of both.

Cybergrind is there, but they can be more lenient on themselves there because there's no real people there.

Anyways, this was just a concept I fiddled with in my little lizard brain. I love this angsty Gopro so much.

Sawamura Daichi has not exactly had a live according to his teenage plans.

But just when he thinks he has hit absolute stagnation a certain silver haired whirlwind comes crashing into his flower shop, a minute before closing time and with an interesting request.

It all spirals from there on.

-------

Or: What if Suga didn't go to Karasuno but to Seijoh & they met years later trough coincidence

So I am exposing myself to the infinite humiliation of publishing some of my writing

I am looking for feedback and criticisms

Struggling to live in the world we made for ourselves, for each other! For we never made this world in the image of kindness. We never cemented these bricks with the intention to shelter one another.

We only wished to trap each other.

We built this world on lies to make it a climb for power. We slip poison into each others cups. We did not fall to the hand of an enemy, we fell subject to not being able to trust anybody at all to do the right thing, not even ourselves.

We made a world where only the strong prevail, and each day, we weaken each other in the lust for menial things.

We are the predator. With jeering claws, horrible fangs, and horrifiying speed. We pin down the most helpless of prey, tearing through its unloveable flesh and grinning the heck off our snouts when blood stains our paws, and you open your maw, flashing shark-like teeth at your victim,

the last thing they'll see before death and you-- and YOU--

But moments away from clamping them dead in a saw-like manner, you notice they have the same eyes as you. Same nose. Same facial structure. Same face. Just... scared.

And in the reflection of their eyes, you can see a glimpse of your own face. You look scared too.

...Scared of yourself.

We are the prey.

Will you do it? Will you hurt yourself in hunger for something more?

I know the blood warms your paws in a masochistic way that you may enjoy. But is that because no one ever held your hands?...

You poor thing...

I'm sorry it had to be this way.

THE GREATEST — TRUE BLUE

[ part one / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ part 2 of THE GREATEST. he tried to live without you, but how is one to survive with a broken heart? a story based on TRUE BLUE by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader (could technically be read as a stand-alone)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, hints of fluff (?) 𝄞 4.1k words

❝ Lights out, you’re not here holding me ❞

Lando had never before felt the way he did the day you left him. Seeing you walk through that door, intending to never come back to him ever again, it pained him. It took him too long to realize how much he hurt you, and now he had to suffer the consequences. He swore it wasn’t on purpose, but when his friends told him that also the third girl he had brought along since you broke up with him resembled you in a way, he stopped denying. There was no use. The guys knew, the internet knew, he knew that he wasn’t yet over you. And he thinks he never will be. You left an empty place in his heart, a place that would forever be reserved for you only and you only. No matter how hard he tried to find someone else, no one would ever be able to replace you.

The girl he brought to the first race after the summer break was long forgotten already.

At first, everyone around him believed him when he said he felt happier now without you. But the moment he went back to his old ways, the heartbreaker they’ve known for so long, they realized he wasn’t. The girls always looked like you. He only rarely smiled anymore and he couldn‘t care less about his friends‘ relationships, even going as far as faking a gag or simply not coming to hang out with them at all. He said it’s because he needs to focus on racing. They knew it was because of you. Lando was yet to tell them why the relationship ended. He’d rather crash his car and DNF in every race for the rest of his life than to ever have to talk about the night you left ever again. He felt embarrassed and bad and was so terribly regretful. Only his parents knew the whole truth. He told them with tears caressing his face just like you once did, and seeing the disappointment in their eyes, he felt his heart rip apart even more. They had loved you so much, only waiting for the day he would finally go down on one knee for you, and now he messed it all up.

If he could just go back and make it all alright. Make you feel unconditionally loved wherever you went, make you happy, keep you happy. He would change it all if he just had the chance, but he knew you deserved better. Maybe one day, he could be better again.

He is ready to give up the very thing for you that had made you leave him that night if you’d ask him to. Racing would never again mean as much to him as you, though broken up, still do to him.

He was currently seated in his McLaren, waiting for the lights to go out so he could try his very best to overtake max at the start already. He should have his mind on the track. He shouldn’t think about you, not here. But like always, he couldn’t help it. He hoped to see you in the stands once he was able to get out of the car again. He hoped to see you wave and smile at him, run into his arms and let him kiss you all over, do all the things he had failed to do so many months ago. He knew it wouldn’t happen. He believed anyway. The lights went out and the cars began moving. He tried his best, he always did, but he wasn‘t afraid to lose anymore; for what was it worth to win a race when he had faced the greatest loss of them all already?

❝ I count every tear down my cheek instead of sheep ❞

You couldn’t sleep. You could never sleep while he was racing. Especially when he was on the other side of the world, which is why you went with him last season, and also at the start of this one. Maybe you never should’ve. Long distance was hard, but you managed. He felt farther away when he was still sleeping next you every night. At least when he didn’t send you off to sleep on the couch.

You tossed and turned in your sleep, but you didn’t dare to turn on the TV. It’s been months, you should try to live without him. Without seeing him. Without feeling for him. His races had nothing to do with you, neither did the outcome. And god, if he wins and you have to watch him kiss someone else again you might as well just take his racing car and drive right into the nearest wall. He’s so far away and yet, it didn’t make you love him any less. You huffed, fear slowly building up inside of you. You knew you shouldn’t do this, you had to wake up early tomorrow and really, it wouldn’t be that bad to miss a race once or twice, but you couldn’t help it. Reaching for the remote, your eyes were flooded with tears and your heart stung like never before when you saw him driving out there. You were rooting for him nonetheless. Just months ago you had watched the races from inside the McLaren hospitality, but now? All alone in your bed, anxiously following his every move. You would never fall asleep like this.

❝ Sleepwalk, find myself on your street. Three knocks, ring the bell, then I leave ❞

And there you stood high up in the stands the next weekend, head hanging low as you didn‘t want any fans of him recognizing you, back in his territory. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but your eyes kept following him around the paddock and didn’t leave him even while he was doing the quick interviews he had to do on his way there. And honestly, it kinda felt like home. Attending the races. Being near him. Being with him. You missed it more than anything else in the world, and you felt pathetic for it. He hurt you every way he could, and still, he didn’t hurt you enough to make you hate him. And you really wanted to hate him.

You went to the race together with one of your friends from uni. You bonded over formula 1 and your shared passion for the sport and quickly became very good friends. However, she had to leave soon, moving to another city for a better starting point for her career. Hence, you decided to save some money and go to a race together for the last time; for now, at least. You still remember the way she looked at you when you told her you were with Lando. The way you swooned over him to her, and the way you cried your eyes out when it all ended. You really thought you‘d be able to spend the rest of your life with him, and now all you had left of him were memories. She‘s known you long enough to immediately notice your longing after him the moment your eyes locked onto his dark brown curls. Your heart fluttered and it made you nauseous. One day this would stop, right? Your feeling must fade at least sometime, or was this all just wishful thinking? Could you not just get over him like everyone else got over their exes and start dating someone new?

Your heart ached. He was so close, not out of reach anymore, not on the other side of the world anymore, but still, there was no way of getting back to him, the crash barriers and the grandstand keeping you away, and it felt like the end of your relationship all over again, with him on the track and you sitting and waiting patiently on the sidelines, always at least an arm length distance between you two. You shouldn’t even want to get him back. You left out a sigh as he walked into the McLaren hospitality, finally out of sight. But still not out of mind.

Your friend huffed next to you, and finally decided to try and convince you to talk to him after the race while you were still in the same place, to get closure at last. You knew it must annoy your friends and maybe even your family that it was so hard for you to just move on. They put effort into understanding, but still, Lando wasn‘t good to you, at least not in the end. Many would treat you better, but you didn‘t seem to care. You quickly shook your head no, telling her how he probably didn’t want to talk to you and that catching him after the race would be nearly impossible, with bodyguards and tons and tons of interviewers and cameras around him.

The conversation ended soon after, as the lights went out and the drivers hit the gas. You pondered for a second, reconsidering your friend‘s suggestion, a weird feeling building up in your stomach. Maybe you shouldn’t even be here, maybe you should *leave* after the race and never look back. But to your dismay, every sense in your body was telling you to stay.

❝ I try to live in black and white but I’m so blue ❞

The race went well, but he didn‘t really care. Of course he was happy, the whole team was euphoric for their two drivers who secured place 2 and 4, huge smiles plastered on their faces. Once he was done with the post-race interviews he left to go back and get some rest inside his apartment, at least until the others came around to drag him to the afterparty, slandering from one club into the next one.

Everything felt so lonely without you. His bed was cold even when he was hidden under his blanket, and the dining room was nothing more than a reminder that he wasn‘t spending his evenings with you. Watching TV got boring. Everything got boring. He didn’t even know why he lost you anymore, he didn’t know what the hell it was that made him believe you weren’t made for him, making him believe there was actually something more important than you in this lifetime. You haunted his every thought, and even though he truly only wanted the best for you, deep inside him, he wanted you to still need him as well.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, gently buttoning up his shirt like you used to do, always leaving the 3 highest ones unbuttoned. He missed your touch, your eyes looking up at him and your hands always reaching for his. His arms would be wrapped around your waist and his head would be leaning on your shoulder, sneaking a few, small kisses up your neck as you changed your earrings for the night, the imagine of it painted onto your fast beating heart as you stood in front of the full-body mirror in your apartment, finishing up your accessoires. You wore a blue dress that covered your thighs, not reaching your knees. It hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your features. It used to be Lando‘s favourite, but you had no other alternative, not having brought any other dresses. Your friend insisted on going clubbing anyway, desperately wanting to finally get him off your mind for one night at least.

The other drivers were loud and happy and drunk and Lando sat next to them, staring at his already empty glass. He knew how this would go. At some point, either the drivers or one of their girls would tap his shoulder, saying they have a friend they think he would really like, and if he would like to be introduced to her. He would agree so they would finally keep their mouths shut, he would talk to the girl. Maybe they would kiss if he drank enough. Maybe he would take her home. Maybe he would think about you the whole time, maybe he would accidentally call her your name. Maybe he would wake up in the morning and would be happy that she‘d left, content with it only being a one-time thing and not meaning anything.

Because, in the end, nothing meant anything without you.

He pretended to laugh at the jokes of his friends, but really, none of this was fun to him. These nights were nothing more than a constant reminder of how he used to have his fun while you were waiting for him at home, cold and sad and alone. How could he be so stupid and leave you alone all the time? He doesn’t even know why he did it anymore. He yawned, very obviously not enjoying the party. Yes, it was nice seeing his friends so happy, the mood wasn’t as tense as it was around and on the track and the people inside the night club were vivid, dancing and drinking, seemingly having the time of their life downing countless beverages, but still, the happiness didn’t reach him.

“Dude, I think your girl‘s here.“ Oscar pushed him slightly, two vodka bull in hand for himself and Lily. Lando didn’t pay him any mind and rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for talking to any girl that isn’t you at the moment. Couldn’t they just give up? He wasn’t ready yet for someone else, he didn’t even know if he wanted to be with someone that isn’t you at all. Ever. Instead of arguing with Oscar about how he didn’t want to hear from any other girl right now, he went to get another drink as well.

He pushed through the dense crowd of people, navigating through the cacophony of laughter and piercing yelling that seemed to echo from all directions. The deafening loud music blasting through his ears made it difficult to focus, and the harsh sound of glass clunking together only added to it. The colorful LED lights rapidly switched from green to red to purple to yellow in a matter of seconds, creating a dizzying light show that overwhelmed his vision. This sensory onslaught of sounds, sights, and sensations overstimulated his senses, making each step forward feel like an effort.

Finally at his destination, he waited for the waiter or waitress, he wasn’t quite sure, to get his order. He wasn’t certain what his plan was that night at all. Sleeping around or not, you wouldn’t stop haunting his mind anyway, so was it really worth it? Getting drunk and trying to make his nights feel less lonesome? Or should he just wait and really focus on his carrer again until maybe, one day, you’d come back?

He ignored the possibilty of you not coming back at all.

He let his eyes wander around the scene unfolding in front of him, occasionally making eye contact with random girls who winked at him and tried to get his attention, but he didn’t pay them any mind. Frustration started to bubble up inside of him as the wait for his drink seemed to go on for forever, until suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.

Lando was certain that in a room full of people, he would always be able to notice you first. He pondered if it was you whenever he‘d walk by a girl with the same hair colour as you, immediately dismissing the thought when he saw a face that didn’t match yours just a second later. But this time, it was different. The hair ressembled yours without a doubt, and of course he remembered the dress he had bought for you so long ago; never once had he been able to keep his hands to himself when you wore it. The height matched you perfectly as well. But it couldn’t be you, right?

Oscar‘s words replayed in his mind and he finally understood what he meant. Who he meant.

It was really you.

You tried to enjoy the party, but you really weren’t doing so well. Your friend had left you near the bar, thinking you’d be hitting it off with a guy you’ve been talking to for some time, but that wasn’t the case. he left just five minutes after to go home, asking if you’d like to come with him. You denied, but your friend was nowhere to be found, having found someone in this club herself. It was scary being alone in a club full of drunk, intoxicated people, even more so when you sensed someone staring at you from behind. You didn’t have to worry about things like that when you were still with Lando, with him always stuck to your side, a protective arm hanging around your shoulders. you shuddered at the thought, and dared to turn around to find the very person who was looking at you so steadily.

And then you locked eyes.

The world suddenly went quiet. All the chaos, the noise, it all faded into the background, no sound to be heard other than the synchronised, rapid beating of your heart. It seemed as if the only two people in that room were you and him, only the void surrounding the two of you. The LEDs turned blue, engulfing you and him, the light accentuating your features and he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, stuck in a trance of what this could mean for him in the future; what this could mean for you both. Time seemed to stand still. He wanted to run to you, to hold you, to tell you how much he missed you, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. His breath hitched and so did yours, all the yearning, all the longing hitting you and him at lightspeed.

You walked towards him, each step filled with electricity. The tension was palpable, his mouth agape as you stood in front of him, only centimeters away from closing the gap between you. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to apologize, so many things he wanted to make right, but he didn‘t dare to say things first, afraid too scare you off. The last thing he wanted is for you to leave him again.

“I didn‘t know you‘d be here, thought I‘d seen Oscar but I wasn‘t sure,“ you started, stumbling over your own words, laughing awkwardly, then biting your lip right after. He noticed, because you always did that when you were nervous; you’d done it too when you broke up with him. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but that would be a lie, one he could look right through of. You just couldn‘t process actually being in his presence again.

“You still wear the dress?“

“It‘s, uhm, quite pretty, so yeah.“ You nodded along to your own words, gulping at the tense and awkward silence right after, looking down at your shoes, the sight of him in this light still not leaving your mind. Maybe he didn‘t even feel the same way, maybe he didn‘t even want to talk to you. Maybe you already made a fool of yourself when you made your way over to him, maybe you really should‘ve just stayed at home. But at the same time, this is what you‘d hoped for this whole time. To finally see him again.

“I‘m so sorry for what I did to you, y/n, please believe me. E-Ever since you left, I couldn‘t stop thinking about you. Not once. I tried to move on, y‘know, would probably be better for you as well, ‘cause you deserve better than how I‘ve treated you at the end and I don‘t want to have to put you through that again but I just- I miss you so much, I don‘t know what to do! And now you‘re here and I swear I‘ve been waiting for a moment like this and-,“ he stopped for a second, heavy and shaky breaths filling the silence, „If giving up racing means you‘ll let me come back to you, I‘ll do it.“

Your teary eyes widened and you looked up at him again, staring into his. One could take it as an empty promise. But you knew better than anyone else that Lando wasn’t one to joke about racing, ever. “Lando you can’t just- I- I mean, racing? It didn‘t work before Lan I just- don‘t give up your dreams for me, please? You shouldn‘t, you have so much ahead of you still,“ you sighed out, every single part of your body overwhelmed like never before.

But Lando was certain. He traced every yet so small feature of your face and body with his eyes, and he knew in that exact moment that, no matter what, he could never lose you again. Not this time. Not when fate hat somehow brought you together once again, giving him a second chance to make it all better. Question was now if you’d let him have that second chance too.

He lifted his hand to gently wipe away the tear running down your cheek, having you lean into his familiar touch. “I’ll do it for you”, he said, and that was when you broke apart, legs feeling numb and wobbly suddenly. Tears streamed down your face as you took another step forward and he wrapped his arms around your body out of reflex, gently placing soft kisses on top of your head, tearing up as well as your cried into his chest.

Maybe it was bad, maybe you shouldn’t feel like this again, but you’ve never once after the breakup felt as at peace with yourself and your as you did now, even if you were in a loud and busy club, surrounded by drunk and high people. You managed to push them to the back of your mind, the familiar scent of Lando’s perfume calming your senses. It felt like home. Maybe he really did owe you something, and though you once were anguished because of it, you wouldn’t ever deprive him of the joy of racing. There would be a way through it without having to abandon any of your or his dreams. There must be if you want it to work out, and you were sure that this time, it would. And so was he.

Lando took you home with him that night, not before you shot your friend a quick text message, afraid she might think you were kidnapped or whatnot. You knew that you’d have to fly home again in two days. He knew that too, but there was no need to rush things anyway. You were still his and he was still yours, and that’s all that mattered for now. It’s gonna be weird explaining this to your friends and your family, but neither of you minded it as long as it meant you could be with each other again. You would have to talk things through and see how you’d manage the race weekends and the events and the media - but not now. Now, with you calmly and lightly snoring in his arms, he didn’t care about any of that, simply content with having you again.

He promised you before you drifted off into your tranquil slumber that he will make it right this time. He will be there for you no matter what, he will defend you and take you with him and show you off and love you like already should have done all these months ago. This time, he will put in the work and the appreciation and the effort, and then, you will finally be able to be the greatest.

❝ I’d like to mean it when I say I’m over you, but that’s still not true. ❞

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