Kim Mingyu - "i Miss My Lover."

me: feels unloved *searches x reader tag*

‘why do you read “various x reader stories?”’

first, i’m a narcissist and will not read it if it’s not about me

second, I love the feeling of people liking me

third, I was ignored as a child

Vander x Reader - The Beginning (Part 1)

Firstly, I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who's sent in a request so far! I'm absolutely loving the ideas you guys are sharing and will get to work on them soon! 💛

Requests are still open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

In the meantime; this is a story that's been sat in my drafts for nearly a year, if not longer! I hope you all enjoy this! And yes, there will be a few more parts to this story.

Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Warnings: Uprising, uprising aftermath, grief, mentions of death, denial, complex relationship with parents, mentions of injuries and possible complications from these injuries, mentions of an arranged marriage

Vander Masterlist / Other Character Masterlist / Join My Taglist

“Are we really gonna do this?” you breathed out shakily, laying on Vanders bare chest. 

The plans for the uprising were all in place thanks to Vander, Silco and most of the undercity, but now that the time was so near, you couldn’t shift the bad feeling that was sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s the only way to show Piltover,” Vander answered softly, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. 

He knew why you were worried, but he knew the risks. 

They all did. 

But this was the only way there could be change; the undercity had been forgotten by Piltover and this uprising was the only way to show those people on the other side of the bridge that  they weren’t going to be ignored or neglected anymore. 

“I know Van…but…I’ve just gotta a really bad feeling about this,” 

No one except Vander knew that you were from Piltover; you both decided it would probably be safer for you if no one knew about your past. 

You were just another traveller, trying to find a home…somewhere to belong. 

And you did. 

The Undercity was vastly different from Piltover, in so many ways; but for some reason you felt more at home here than you ever had done topside. 

There were no pressures. 

No discussion of arranged marriages. 

You were free; free to live however you wanted.

With whomever you wanted.

You knew the uprising was happening; it had been something Vander, Silco and Felicia had been discussing since before you even met Vander. 

They were all determined, as was much of the Undercity, to show Piltover that they were just as worthy as anyone living topside. 

But things weren’t that simple. 

You knew that no matter how determined they were, there was still going to be so much death. 

So many wasted lives. 

Because the Enforcers of Piltover were brutal. 

They had to be, they protected the city. 

Once upon a time; when you were younger and much more naïve, you admired the duty of the Enforcers.

That was until you grew up and saw the reality of what they were. 

They shot first and asked questions later….especially when it came to the people of the Undercity. 

And that’s why you were terrified. 

Terrified that this whole uprising was going to get crushed. 

That there was just going to be so much death, on both sides, that it was going to be almost impossible to come back from. 

Piltover would be angry and want revenge. 

The undercity would be the same. 

And thus the circle of violence would continue.

Never-ending.

Both sides would be craving revenge and willing to do anything to get it.

“You can stay here, darl…I know your dad-”

His sentence was cut short when he felt your body stiffen under him at the mention of your father.  

The reason you’d idolized the Enforcers, was because the man who raised you was the sheriff of the Piltover Enforcers; the same man was the one who showed you how ruthless they could be.

You knew that after all the years of being estranged from her family that there was a possibility you could meet again on that bridge and as much as you tried not to think about it, now that the event was so close, it was almost impossible to avoid. 

Vander knew that. 

He knew the complicated relationship that you had with her family; he was part of the reason things were so complicated between you and your parents. 

You both knew that meeting one another was never meant to happen, it was just a weird twist of fate that brought you together. But once you’d met one another, there was no turning back, not for either of you.

You left your life, your family, everything you knew, so that you could be with the man you loved. 

So that you could be with Vander. 

That was three years ago, and you'd been by his side ever since. 

And those three years were the happiest you’d been in a long while…you just didn’t want to lose that. 

You didn’t want to lose him, and you knew that this uprising risked that happening. 

It risked destroying everything, your lives, your friends, your community…all of it could be destroyed.

“I’m scared of losing you….” you admitted, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. 

“I know, darl, I am too,” he also confessed, pulling you closer to him. 

“But this isn’t just about us,” his words were almost a whisper, but you heard him, and you knew that what he was saying was true. 

This wasn’t about them. 

This was about the future…

There was no doubt that you feared the ramifications of what could happen from doing this uprising, you knew that it was going to happen whether you decided to be a part of it or not. 

The last thing you wanted to be doing was  staying here, waiting and hoping that Vander would come back to you. 

You wanted to make sure that he would, and if that meant going with him and having his back, then that’s what you were going to do. 

And if it all went terribly, at least you’d be together then as well.

~~~~~

Vander didn’t know what to do. 

Y/n was missing…

Felicia and Connol were dead. 

As he carried the daughters of one of his best friends in his arms, his thoughts were running rampant in his mind, trying to process what had happened.

One minute you were by his side, fighting with him against the enforcers on the bridge…the next minute you were gone. 

You couldn’t be dead, he’d have felt it in his heart…he would’ve found your body on that bridge..but despite all of his searching, he never found you…he was scouring the bridge for a third time for you, when he saw Vi and Powder standing there, the fear evident in their eyes, even in Vi’s despite her best efforts to look brave. 

He couldn’t let them stay there. 

He had to get them to safety. 

To protect them. 

You couldn’t be dead. 

You couldn’t be…

Vander kept repeating those words in his mind; hoping that maybe you’d made your own way home, but when he got there, there was no one there. 

The bar was empty. 

He set the girls down on the stools by the bar, before running a hand over his face. 

You weren’t here. 

But that didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t mean you were dead. 

“Where’s Y/n?” Powder asked innocently, but her lighthearted expression soon faltered when she saw Vander sit down in his chair.

His brows furrowed as a frown tugged down on his mouth. 

Vi noticed the sadness in his eyes as he opened his mouth to say something before closing it firmly shut and looking away from the two girls in front of him, trying to hide the tears building in his eyes.

They knew what his silence meant, even if he couldn’t say the words…or admit it to himself…

He kept hoping that eventually you would just walk through the door; with some type of witty remark. 

But one day turned into two, two days turned into a week, the week turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months.

During that time funerals were held for all of those who died during the uprising; including you..his mind told him that the only logical answer was that you’d died and people told him that a funeral would give him closure.

Vander, Vi and Powder, all mourned the people that they lost that day.

Despite mourning you, in his heart, Vander could never fully believe that you were gone. 

~~~~~~

“It’s okay, my love, she’s safe now,” Richard cooed to his wife, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his eyes fixed on the daughter he never thought he’d see again. 

“What did the doctor say?” Emilie, his wife, asked, the worry evident in her voice as she held her unconscious daughter's hand, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked at the injuries that were scattering Y/n's body. 

“We’ll know more when she wakes up,” Richard answered, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

When he first saw Y/n on the bridge, he couldn’t quite believe it. 

He knew you were in the Undercity, he wasn’t stupid, and as much as he wanted to just march down there and drag you home, you were the one who decided to leave.

He told you what happened if you left; it’s not like he didn’t give you ample warning. 

If you left, then you no longer had parents; that was a decision you made willingly.

For the last three years, he hadn’t had a daughter. 

But when he saw your unconscious, bloody and bruised body on the bridge; the fatherly protectiveness he thought had died all those years ago, resurfaced. 

He couldn’t leave you there. 

You were still his daughter; and despite everything, he still loved you.

So during the chaos of the fight, he took you away from the bridge and back home, where you were going to be safe. 

He called a doctor that he could trust to be discreet, to assess your injuries, and despite a cut on the back of her head, all your other injuries were superficial injuries that would heal with time. 

The cut on the back of your head was more serious though; the doctor explained that they wouldn’t know the severity of it until you were awake, but that it was possible that you could experience some type of amnesia, if nothing else. 

He couldn’t help the way he felt when the doctor said about you having amnesia. 

If you forgot about your time in the Undercity, then he could have his family back, he could have his daughter back; and you’d be able to live the life you were meant to live, in Piltover, with the types of people you were meant to be socializing with. 

Instead of the scum from the Undercity who’d twisted and manipulated you against your own parents and to join a foolish cause that could’ve gotten you killed. 

You’d be able to have the life you’d so misguidedly thrown away. 

All he ever wanted was what was best for you, and now he had a second chance to give that to you. 

Was he so wrong to want that? 

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @barbersjoy @conretewings @the-lone-librarian @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @wildestdreamcatcher @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea

He is just so hot

Freaky Red Carpet

synopsis: your final red carpet appearance with fred for gladiator ii. (your first public appearance as a couple?)

wc: 4k+

warnings: rpf! reader is specified to be inexperienced!

a/n: same general vibes as the last one but more introspective ig, but we go into more specifics here as well as some backstory.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of the premiere. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

<<previous part

The screams and chaos of the premiere crashed over you as you stepped out of the car, a security guard’s hand reached for yours to steady you. This was it, the final big event. Even though it wasn’t over just yet, the nostalgia was creeping in, soft but persistent.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Fred’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He stood only a few steps ahead of you, having just arrived himself. Your gaze softened, lingering on Fred, oblivious to the cameras snapping away. “You look…” His gaze dipped once—then again—tracing your figure. A soft, unguarded smile tugged at his lips, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. As if he was completely enraptured by you. “You’re stunning, you know that?”

The ability to speak escaped you for only a moment, the words caught in your throat. “...Fred, you can’t-”

“No, I’m serious.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised. He walked forward and placed his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place to continue studying you, as if he was in awe. “Look at you.” His eyes finally found yours again. “You’re gorgeous, y/n.”

“Thank you.” The words felt stronger than your voice. You weren’t insecure—you knew you looked good tonight. But having someone say it like that—having Fred say it like that, like he couldn’t even keep the thought to himself—it nearly brought you to tears.

A deafening roar of cameras and voices dragged you back to reality. The glow of flashing lights blurred at the corners of your vision, and distant shouts of your name cut through the haze. You straightened your posture instinctively, smoothing invisible creases in your dress. But Fred could see it. He could see that small moment you tried to keep to yourself.

“Hey, come here.” He spoke softly, less of a request and more of a warning of the oncoming embrace. He pressed his hands between your shoulders blades once you settled into him, chin hooked against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head vehemently, the silky smooth finish of his suit rubbing against your neck. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I made you emotional.”

“You always make me emotional.” You chuckled, voice light to keep the tears at bay, unsure why they even came in the first place. “You look incredibly handsome tonight.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, his smile and excitement clear in his voice.

“Of course.” You pulled away and jerked your chin at his outfit. “We’re almost matching.”

With a quick second look at the color scheme of your outfit compared to his, Fred’s eyes lit up. “We are!”

“I think Grant and Leslie set us up.” You squinted your eyes conspiratorially. “I heard them talking about ‘all black looks’ yesterday.”

“Really?” He raised his brows at the information. “Come to think of it, Leslie refused to even entertain any of my suggestions today.” Fred laughed it off and reached down to hold you. His hands smoothly slid down your arms until they arrived at your hands, interlacing your fingers together. “Come on.” He tilted his head toward the carpet behind him. “Walk with me.”

“Down the carpet?” You gawked, frozen in place as he gently pulled you in the direction of the flashing lights.

“Yeah pretty, down the carpet.” Fred chuckled like you were joking. “It’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“You wanna take pictures with me? Like us- together?” You whispered to Fred, not fully paying attention to the cameras already catching every moment. As Fred’s hand tightened around yours, you realized.

You weren’t exactly hiding this—not entirely. Your blossoming relationship, that is. Keeping things personal and quiet felt right for both of you. But this—walking a red carpet together—had never been part of the plan.

“‘Course I wanna take pictures with you.” Fred answered, eyes soft but certain. “We worked super closely on this movie, y/n. I don’t think people will over analyze if we take pictures together on the carpet.” He shrugged. His words meant more than that, though. You knew he meant that you could do whatever you wanted. That you shouldn’t limit yourself in your relationship just because you wanted boundaries. Keeping it private didn’t mean keeping it a secret, like you were doing something wrong. 

“Besides, you’re my Lovie.” His voice softened, almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if you’d still claim the title in front of all these people.

Your neck grew warm at his words.

Lovie.

That was the name you and Fred called your deliberately unnamed character throughout filming. Caracalla called her ‘my love’ almost exclusively in the script. So it became your quick shorthand between each other. And soon after, the rest of the cast and crew called your character that as well. But it was different with Fred. After a while, it stopped being her name for him. It was you. You were his Lovie.

“Oh- Okay, yeah.” You nodded at Fred, accepting the idea of walking the carpet together, though still slightly apprehensive. 

“Yeah?” He asked again, just to make sure. And with another nod from you, Fred’s victorious smile lingered as his hand settled on the small of your back, sending sparks up your spine. “Gotta show off my girl,” he murmured, his hand pressing a little firmer into you. You weren’t sure if he wanted you to hear that or not, but you did. The way Fred could unravel you, seemingly without even trying, felt wildly unfair—like every tender gesture was second nature to him. 

He led you up the crimson steps, where the carpet shimmered beneath camera flashes and distant voices blurred into a roar. Your name and Fred’s were being called from every which way. Before you could stand still and face a specific group of photographers, Fred moved away from your side all of a sudden, his steps quick and fluid. 

“Fred?” you asked, instinctively glancing over your shoulder.

“One second.” His voice was low, nearly lost in the noise. When you turned, you saw Fred at your other side by your feet. He crouched smoothly to get closer to what he was after. The train of your dress. It wasn’t that long, but the small trek up the stairs had it all misshapen. With precise movements, he tugged at the fabric to position it into place. After he straightened it out sufficiently, he stood back up and stepped around his handiwork to come back at your side, arm looping around your waist to pull you back into him.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You looked up at him through your lashes as your hands came up to rest against his chest. You adjusted his lapels in a subconscious attempt to return the favor, brushing away the imaginary lint on his chest and shoulders. Fred visibly blushed at your words, your hands on him, the way that you were looking at him, all of it. You displayed your emotions in a way that even he couldn’t dismiss. Not that he would want to. He loved it. Every moment. Being cared for so openly made his heart flutter and his ears turn red, it was exhilarating.

“I wanted to.” He reassured you, head nodding down softly, a subtle attempt at getting closer to you.

A piercing shout of your name followed by a burst of blinding light shattered the quiet moment.

The soft bubble you and Fred had built around yourselves burst, replaced by the harsh glare of cameras and the relentless hum of the crowd.

You dropped your hands from Fred’s chest, suddenly aware of how close you were.

But Fred’s hand stayed where it was, anchoring you in the thrashing waves of it all.

You turned this way and that, following the voices of photographers as they shouted out different poses they wanted to see.

“I could get used to this.” Fred spoke quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear. 

You frowned in confusion and turned to look at him. “Which part exactly?” You asked. 

“Having the prettiest girl in the world on my arm.”

“Was this your plan tonight?” You couldn’t hide your grin no matter how hard you tried. “To kill me with compliments?”

“Not a bad way to die, no?” Fred furrowed his brows in faux seriousness, his mouth twitching in that way it did, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle. “You’re a horrible man, Fred Hechinger.”

‘idk if they’re together or not and i want to be respectful but theyre literally the cutest people ever and if its true then theyre perfect for each other 🥺 truly wish them the best’

‘the mouth thing he does is actually the cutest thing ive ever seen’ ↳ ‘hottest. i think you mean hottest.’

‘look at the matching outfits!! i can’t! theyre too frickin cute!!!’ ↳ ‘its just all black lol y’all read into things too much 🙄’

‘we need a lip reader up in here 🗣️🗣️’

‘we love a man who knows the importance of the dress’

‘how does she just look better and better at each public appearance?!’

‘this is flirting one million percent’

‘either theyre together or theyre idiots, because this just might be true love’

‘we can’t assume that every interaction in hollywood means something more than it is, give them the privacy they deserve!’

‘what are they SAYINGGGG?!!?!’ ↳ ‘it definitely looks like he said ‘prettiest girl in the world’ there at the end, right?? call me crazy, but i can see his mouth moving so clearly it has to be it!’ ↳ ‘you’re definitely crazy, but also you’re definitely right’ ↳ ‘you’re right!!!! isn't that so relationship goals??’

Towards the end of the carpet, the rest of the cast were gathered to take a group photo. Paul saw the two of you approaching and his eyes lit up. 

“Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” He teased the two of you. “Been waiting all night!”

“Sorry,” you ducked your head as you confessed, smiling sheepishly. “Entirely my fault. I came late.”

“Ah, come here.” Paul laughed as he brushed it off and pulled you into a hug. “You look stunning.”

“And you’re handsome as ever.” You returned the compliment.

Paul pulled Fred into his side once you withdrew. You saw him whisper something into Fred’s ear, and Fred laughed and whispered something back, but you couldn’t quite make any of it out. 

When Fred pulled away, you shook your head at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. A small way of asking ‘What was that about?’ Fred smiled and shook his head, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

“Alright, you two!” Paul clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Picture time!”

“Do I look okay?” You turned to Fred, hand coming up to make sure your hair was in place. You were facing him now, your colleagues to one side of you and the expanse of the carpet on the other side. 

“You always look perfect.” He answered, eyes struggling to stay on yours. Always dipping down to your neck, your shoulders, your waist. He had to get a hold of himself, he thought. 

As you raised your arm to make sure your earrings were on properly, one of your bracelets snagged at the neckline of your dress. Nothing had happened yet, but if you moved in the wrong way, you’d have a horrible wardrobe malfunction on your hands. A soft ‘Oh!’ escaped you as you realized what was happening. Fred’s eyes darted from yours to your hand, where your eyes were fixated on something.

“What happened?” He mumbled as he quickly moved you with his hands on your elbows and simultaneously stood in front of you, making sure the scene was as difficult as possible for the cameras to capture.

“My bracelet’s stuck,” you explained, eyebrows furrowed and eyes zoned in on the tangle. 

His hands quickly covered yours, gently moving your fingers out of the way. “Here, let me.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re like my own personal assistant today.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a small smile, still working on your bracelet, glad that you seemed to be enjoying yourself even now.

He was a bit worried about you today, especially after he initially saw you at the entrance to the carpet. He knew the high of working on this project was coming down for you and he wanted to be there to support you through it all. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, “first the train of my dress, now this. What next? You’re gonna pull out a powder puff and take care of the shine on my forehead?”

“If this suit had big enough pockets, I’d pull out a plane and fly us out of here.”

“Where would we go?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, the Maldives? Russia? The moon?” Fred laughed with you as he pulled your hand back down, your bracelet and your dress back to their previous intact positions.

“Well, I already told you two that I want to go take pictures.” Paul’s voice broke the bubble that seemed to continuously form around the two of you. He stood next to you and placed a hand on your and Fred’s shoulders. “Hate to ruin the moment, lovebirds, but there’s only so much time before the movie starts inside.”

Paul pushed the two of you towards the spot prepared for the photos. Ahead of you was the rest of the cast, all lined up. Pedro Pascal, Connie Neilsen, Joseph Quinn, and Denzel Washington all stood together chatting and laughing. Paul went and stood next to Pedro, and Joseph made room for Fred between him and Denzel. You slid up next to Paul, feeling like it was the best fit for you between the group of people without causing another shuffle. 

Paul scanned the lineup, eyes flicking between you and Fred when his eyes narrowed slightly. “This won’t do.”

Without another word, he began casually nudging people aside, muttering something to Pedro, giving Joseph a knowing look. Slowly but deliberately, he carved out a space beside Fred.

A space for you.

“There. Much better,” he smirked, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder and pulled you into place.

Your cheeks burned as Fred grinned and tugged you closer into his side. Joseph smiled knowingly at you and draped an arm across your shoulders.

Paul darted back to his place and in turn the cameras flashing intensified.

‘paul fred and y/n seem like such good friends i could cry 😢’

‘we all know paul has tiktok and hes in the loop, this man knows exactly what hes doing to us fred x y/n shippers’

‘HIM FIXING HER DRESS LIKE THAT? TOMDAYA 2.0! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS 😩’

‘guys! a lip reader figured this one out! paul: ‘you’re smitten and you’re not being subtle about it’ and FRED SAID ‘who said i wanna be subtle?’ IS HE NOT THE CUTEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD?’ ↳‘paul ships it, he’s on our team’ ↳ ‘and he was telling her how good she looks at the other end of the carpet, did you see?’ ↳ ‘at one point he even says ‘you’re my love’ and i just about melted’ ↳ ‘no he said ‘lovie’! that’s what caracalla calls her in that one scene! NO SPOILERS GUYS!!!’

‘FRED THE MAN THAT YOU ARE!!!’

‘i can’t tell if i want y/n or if i want to be her’

‘paul making sure y/n is next to fred during the group photo’ ↳ ‘did you see how joseph looked at them!! everyone ships these two!’ ↳ ‘goes to show how literally everyone is rooting for these two’ ↳ ‘so true! they’re the cutest couple ive ever seen i feel like a proud mom’

‘first he fixes the train of her dress, next he helps her when her bracelet gets stuck, then what? huh? i die? is that what these two want from me?’

‘never getting over the cast making sure theyre next to each other in the group pic, theyre so loved’ ↳ ‘you mean paul specifically lol’

After a few pictures were snapped, a coordinator in charge of the media coverage told you to reshuffle. They wanted a few photos of Fred with Joseph and Denzel, and some of just the two of them. Some of Connie and Pedro, and some with Paul as well. A mixture of photos that represented their work together on screen. And of course they wanted some of you and Fred, and some with Joseph. And the last group on the list was you, Fred, and Paul.

When Paul came to join you, he placed his arm across Fred's on your lower back, both of their hands now landing on either side of your waist. “Hey,” He smiled warmly at you. “You alright?” 

You hummed in confirmation. “Thank you for that, back there.” You tilted your head to the side, knowing Paul would understand that you meant how he made sure to put you next to Fred in the group photo.

“I have no clue what you're talking about.” He smirked, eyes fixed forwards on the cameras. But his hand squeezing lightly at your waist told you otherwise. He was so perceptive when it came to you, making you feel like you were an open book. It brought you back to a day on set. A long time ago. When the concept of you and Fred was something you were too afraid to talk about out loud in fear of ruining the magic of it. Your relationship was on the precipice, the very edge of friendship before the ocean of something more.

The day, you had confided in Paul about the very thing that led him to do what he did only moments ago.

~

“You guys are cute.” He had said, catching you admiring your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Fred on a picnic blanket. Paul had taken it the day before. Everyone on set thought it was a nice idea to have lunch outside. The weather was perfect, the grass was green, and there were butterflies everywhere. You and Fred took a blanket for yourselves, to no one’s surprise. 

It was the next day that you were sitting with Paul on the set of the Colosseum and he showed you the picture he took of you. You quickly changed your phone wallpaper after he sent you the photo at your request. It wasn’t anything fancy, his film was still getting developed, though he promised you loads of pictures from that once it was done. This picture was just taken on his phone camera, but it was just as beautiful to you. He was so talented with cameras, capturing each moment beautifully you could almost hear it.

“Thanks.” You replied, avoiding his eyes. It felt strange—this fragile stage of something new unfolding under so many watchful eyes. But you knew that would be a sacrifice that you’d have to make. Especially with how slow you were going with Fred.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Paul asked. You hummed in response, asking for elaboration. “Us watching?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, needing further explanation. He couldn’t read your mind, could he? Was he really asking about the same thing you were thinking of? Were you that easy to read? Maybe to Paul, you were.

“I know you guys are taking it slow,” Paul said softly, like it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to know. Your eyes lifted to meet his. “Fred told me.”

“He talks to you about me?” You asked, your smile evident in the tone of your voice.

“Always.” He replied, smiling just as wide as you unknowingly were. You and Fred were some of his closest friends on set. You all had the same sense of humor and attitude towards life, it was easy to find companionship with the two of you. And he wasn’t surprised that you two found love within each other. But he worried about it at times. “He always talks about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” You chuckled quietly, the smile ever growing on your face as you thought of what Fred might tell Paul in your absence. Maybe he mentioned your weird obsession with stuffed animals, or how you clung to his arm whenever the two of you went for a walk.

After a beat of silence, you remembered his question and your brows knitted in thought. “Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Paul inhaled through his nose and looked out onto the bleachers ahead of you. “I don’t know… It’s just that- I don’t think I would be comfortable in your position, is all.”

“Why is that?” You knew how you felt about it all, but you always explained away your emotions. A bad habit, you knew. But you were genuinely curious and wanted to hear a somewhat objective opinion on this whole situation. 

“Just feels so-” He looked back at you now, studying you. Hoping, even, to see something telling in your expression at his confession. “Exposed, in a way. Raw. Like these feelings that really only one person should know about are on display to everyone around me.”

“Says the guy who had a first date on a live stream.” You retorted, the playful jab coming quick to mind.

Paul shook his head with a chuckle. “You know what I mean, dickhead.”

Your head cocked to the side as you thought of his words, truly taking them in. “I guess it does kind of make me feel strange.”

“Yeah?” Paul’s brows raised, appraising your face once more.

You nodded with a hum. “I’ve never- I mean, I’ve never really had a proper relationship. I don’t think I can even call this one a proper relationship. Not yet, anyways. And when I really think of it, it does feel a little unfair that what I always thought would be intimate and private is on display like this.”

“I’m sorry.” Paul spoke morosely.

“It’s not your fault.” You smiled softly, placing your hand on his. 

“Feels like it is sometimes.” He admitted. You shot him a questioning look. “‘Cause of the pictures.” He explained. “I just want to capture the moment. For you guys, not for anyone else. But whenever I point a camera your way, it’s like I’m pulling everyone’s attention to you with it. I feel guilty whenever you two are having a moment and everyone’s staring. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I think we’re asking for it a little.” You huffed out a laugh, squinting in the sun. The underlying bitterness in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Paul. “It’s a bit dumb to try and start a relationship in an environment like this. Months on end on one set with the same group of people. It’s annoying to have everyone’s attention like that, but everyone else probably thinks we’re annoying too.”

“No, don’t say that.” Paul shook his head, his eyes sharp as he shot down your self-blame. “You don’t plan out relationships in advance, that’s not how things work. We’re not like normal people, we don’t get to clock out and go home when time’s up. We’ve moved to fuckin’ Morocco, we film day and night. We eat, sleep, and breathe on this set. And if something like that does happen, where would you even hide it? You can’t! Not that well anyways… You guys are doing this well. Better than most.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded with certainty. “And I… I didn’t know this was your first relationship. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you.” He apologized again and your heart squeezed. 

“Yeah.” Your lips pressed together in a combination of agreement and embarrassment. “But it’s okay. To answer your question, I mean. I don’t think- I don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“No?”

“No.” You shook your head. “He makes me feel safe—like I’m home. Like we’re in a bubble where nothing bad can happen.”

~

Tucked into Fred’s side, surrounded by the cameras and the noise of the final premiere, you felt that same comfort—like you were in your own bubble with him. There were still interviews, panels, and endless appearances ahead, but this moment felt like the end of something special. And you were grateful that Fred was here, anchoring you through it all.

Spider-cat!

⚘ Miguel x fem!reader

⚘ fluff

⚘ I don’t think there are any warnings?

⚘ summary: Y/n spends all her time with Spidercat, causing Miguel to feel little jelous.

⚘ wc: 960

Keep reading

MASTERLIST

daniel ricciardo

exist for love

lando norris

it’s a match (series)

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

max verstappen

appendix touch

baby, you can drive my car

break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored

crosswind

hard launch

the cat sitter (series)

oscar piastri

bad idea, right?

formula 1

super smash bros

risingtripletaurus' rockstar fic recs 💋

~~~

personal faves - 🗽

thats^^ more of a personal indicator for me <3 i love all these fics SO much

some didn't have titles, so i just gave them one!

eddie van halen

by your side by @born-to-lose 🗽

a quiet day by @thunderxroad

~~~

tommy lee

without you by @coffeeandcannolis 🗽

strawberries by @looksthatkilledd-writes

close as strangers by @niksixx

but i'm your dumbass by @one-sad-human 🗽

~~~

nikki sixx

tommy's sister by @michelle-is-writing 🗽

my place is up the street by @niksixx

some well needed comfort by @one-sad-human 🗽

love again by @napsandimagines 🗽

to the moon and back by @buckysimp10101 🗽

following all by @youlightmeupfinn

silent treatment 🗽

never thought we'd end up like this 🗽

ghost (series)

exhaustion 🗽

cat and mouse (series) 🗽

dancing on glass (series)

because of you

~~~

vince neil

dinner first by @one-sad-human 🗽

~~~

jon bon jovi

slippery when wet by @born-to-lose 🗽

this ain't a love story by @skydiving-without-a-parachute

following all by @guns-n-jovi

born to be my baby

mercy on me 🗽

on eagle's wings 🗽

hey stranger 🗽

~~~

duff mckagan

i will take care of you by @duffs-shot-glass

wrong number by @born-to-lose

best prank ever by @lost-in-the-80s 🗽

following all by @one-sad-human

soft touches, warm cuddles

you're crazy

following all by @guns-n-jovi

meant what i said 🗽

never again 🗽

the date

~~~

slash

don't you call me baby by @tuffduff

parking lot dances by @itsgaga

just friends by @duffslut 🗽

lucky guy by @zaynsxsoul

following all by @guns-n-jovi

red of the night

all the time 🗽

~~~

steven adler

hairstyles by @born-to-lose 🗽

in these arms by @americanrocknroll 🗽

a better match by @duffs-shot-glass

pinky promises by @one-sad-human 🗽

~~~

axl rose

three days by @one-sad-human 🗽

it was just a joke by @duffs-shot-glass

broken by @axlsangel

~~~

james hetfield

picnic by @anna-n-hetfield

saying hi 🗽 by @you-can-call-me-wanda

cold nights 🗽 by @31-4am

~~~

eddie munson, ig

jon bon jovi isn't very family friendly by @ridestomars 🗽

wrapped around your finger by @lilacletter

~~~

hey, are you still there? 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you know yourself that it’s sad that you settled on being a backburner, but you didn’t mind crisping up on lando’s backburner as long as he still think of you.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, unrequited love(?), open ending, insecurities, reader being treated as a backburner, childhood best friends, christmas angst, luisa, typos, and few grammatical errors.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had always wanted to write this for so long, but i’m not sure how to pen it, but finally, here it is! so far, i’m satisfied. i don’t know much about luisa, but i’m sorry that luisa is kind of villainized in this 🥲 i’m sorry. this is like another christmas one shot, sooo haha i intentionally made it as an open ending bc i want to leave the ending to you, and let me apologize now bc this one shot won’t have a part 2. it just felt right for me to leave it as an open ending and leave the ending up to you. so i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The glow of the snowy afternoon sun filtered through your apartment windows, casting long, golden shadows across the floor as you sat cross-legged amidst a pile of forgotten keepsakes.

Your plan was simple, really. To declutter, toss out what no longer sparked happiness, and finally reclaim some much-needed space in your small New York apartment. But simplicity soon faded the moment you stumbled upon a memory box that was buried beneath old blankets in the closet. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the worn out wooden edges now slightly faded, but just holding the box again made you feel something deep in your chest.

Sliding the lid of the box open, the faint scent of nostalgia greeted you. There was a mixture of paper and dust that carried you back to another time, another place. Polaroid photographs, ticket stubs, concert tickets, and tiny trinkets spilled out as you began to sift through the box’s contents, fingers brushing against fragments of a life you had once shared with someone who knew you better than anyone. Then you saw it—the camcorder.

It sat nestled at the bottom of the box, its black casing slightly scuffed but still intact, as though it had been waiting for you all these years. The sight of it made your breath catch, fingers hesitant as they wrapped around the familiar shape. A small laugh escaped you, soft and bittersweet, as a wave of memories washed over you.

The camcorder had been a gift from your parents, given to you when you were just a teen. At the time, you had rolled your eyes at the thought of having a camcorder. You were not exactly the type to obsess over gadgets or record everything, but your parents had insisted, saying something along the lines of making memories worth keeping.

You hadn’t even opened the box properly before you had told him about it. Lando had always had a thing for photography, an almost childlike fascination with capturing the world around him. Naturally, he had lit up at the mention of the camcorder. You remembered the way his face had brightened, how he had practically snatched it from your hands when he saw it, excitement radiating from him like it was Christmas morning.

“Trust me,” he said, voice brimming with certainty as he flipped the device open with ease. “This is going to be so much fun, you’ll see.”

And it was.

The camcorder had quickly become his, in everything but name. Lando had used it more than you ever had, his artistic streak shining through in the way he would capture the smallest, most mundane moments and make them feel extraordinary. But what stood out the most was his favorite subject. You.

Every time you hung out, or visited a new place, his focus would inevitably turn to you. At first, you had protested, laughing and batting the camcorder away, but over time, it became a rhythm of sorts. Lando, behind the lens, coaxing your laughter and teasing your smile, and you, rolling your eyes but secretly loving the way he saw you. Through the lens, even the quietest days seemed to feel alive.

You traced a finger along the camcorder’s edges, the faint outline of his fingerprints etched invisibly into its surface. Four years. It had been four years since you had left the UK—four years since you had left him. You told yourself that what you did was for the best, that you needed to grow, chase bigger dreams.

Part of it all was true, but the other part, the one which you didn’t say out loud, was the reason why your chest tightened even now. Was because Lando made you feel too much, and you were not sure you could bear it any longer.

You grabbed your laptop, briefly hesitated over the laptop’s keyboard before finally connecting the camcorder. The familiar chime of recognition echoed through the room as your laptop detected the device, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervous anticipation.

It had been years since you last thought about these videos, let alone watched them. As the files began to load, thumbnails filled the screen—tiny, burry windows into the past. You clicked on the first one, and the second is the screen lit up with a younger version of yourself, smiling awkwardly into the lens. Lando’s voice filled the room almost immediately.

“Come on, you can smile better than that!” he teased from behind the camera, chuckling.

Without even realizing it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched. The video playing one after another, each one showed a snapshot of your lives back then. There were clips of you on spontaneous trips—forests, city streets, karting, and endless car rides with Lando singing loudly and off-key while you laughed at him.

There were also quieter moments—rainy afternoon when you were sat by your bedroom window, lost in thought, while he filmed you from across the room, calling it aesthetic. Lando captured everything, from the highs to the lows.

The memories felt vivid, almost too vivid, as if you could reach through the screen and relieve those moments. It was the year he had started his Formula 1 career, and the first time you saw him truly chasing his dreams with everything he had, and were beyond proud of him. At the same time, it was also the year you were filling out endless applications to universities in America, unsure of where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do in life. It was like you were both standing on the edge of something new, something big, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

It was also the year you finally admitted to yourself that what you felt for Lando was no longer just friendship. You had been so close for so long that the shift felt almost imperceptible at first—lingering glance here, flutter in your chest there. But you acknowledged it, there was no going back.

You found yourself looking at him differently, noticing the little things about him that had always been there but suddenly felt so significant. The way how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, his curly hair, aquamarine eyes, the quiet focus he had when working on something he cared about, and most of all, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

But you kept it to yourself. You couldn’t tell Lando, not when he had told you so casually, like it was nothing that he liked someone.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same,” he had said, voice laced with uncertainty.

For a brief moment, a hope sparked in you. Maybe after all this time, Lando felt the same way about you. Maybe this was the moment that you had finally been waiting for.

But that hope shattered almost immediately when he pulled out his phone and showed you a photo. The girl’s name was Luisa, and she was stunning. She was everything that you were not—model, successful, gorgeous, has a radiant smile and a presence that seemed magnetic. Luisa was exactly Lando’s type, and you knew it.

The realization hit you harder than you had expected. You felt dumb and foolish, for even thinking one second that Lando could ever see you that way. You were not like Luisa, you were not the kind of girl who turned heads or made people stop in their tracks. You were just…you. Lando’s best friend. The person he could have a joke with, confide in, and lean on, but will never see you anything as more.

So you stayed quiet. Buried your feelings deep, gaslighting yourself that everything was better the way it is. The less you talk, the less you risked losing him. Maybe if you kept on pretending that everything was fine, you could learn to let him go.

A new clip began to play. You were seated on the edge of a bench, face scrunched in frustration as you ran a hand through your hair. The sound of Lando’s laughter crackled through the speakers, light and teasing, as he zoomed in on your expression from behind the camera.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

It was clear that from that clip that he was trying to cheer you up. It had been one of those moments when everything felt overwhelming. Your plans, future, and feelings. Yet, even in your frustration, Lando had managed to make you laugh. He always did. Watching it now, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how young and naïve you looked.

But the video carried more weight than just a frustration afternoon. That day, you had a front-row seat to another chapter in Lando’s pursuit of Luisa. It was the day he told you that he finally confessed his feeling to her, and you could still remember how his voice sounded. It was a mix of hope and vulnerability as he recounted every detail, but his excitement had quickly dimmed when Lando explained how his confession had met an uncertainty from Luisa, not really sure how she felt about Lando.

You remembered how that hurt him, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. It was one of the few times you had seen Lando genuinely shaken, his confidence chipped away by a single sentence. Still, it did not stop him, if anything, it only made him more determined to win her over.

This is exactly what Lando is—relentless, persistent, unwilling to let go of something he wanted.

Then there was you, caught in the orbit of it all. A pattern had started to form, one you did not want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. Whenever Luisa turned her back on him, when his texts went unanswered, or her attention drifted elsewhere, Lando would always find his way to you. His calls would come late at night, voice low and tinged with sadness as he stumbled through excuses to keep you on the line, and you, despite knowing better, would always answer.

Those were the moments you chastised yourself for loving. When Lando was hurt, when he felt small and alone, he always came to you. You were the person he confided in, one he leaned on. It almost felt like you mattered to him in the way you wanted to. Even if you knew, deep down, that it was not that. That it was temporary, a band-aid for his bruised ego—you couldn’t help but savor the attention.

But then, inevitably, Luisa would give him the smallest bit of her time, and you would become invisible to him again. The calls would stop, texts would taper off, and Lando would be lost in the glow of her half-hearted affection. You would feel the ache of being left behind, sting of knowing you were nothing more than a safety net, a placeholder, a convenient fallback plan.

It was a never ending cycle you despised, one that made you look at yourself with pity as you played into it. But whether it was out of hope or some cruel sense of inevitability, you stayed. You let it happen. Time and time again, picking up the pieces when Lando fell apart, only to watch him hand them back to her the moment she glanced his way.

It was always like this. It had always been like this, and somehow, despite everything, you definitely hadn’t learned your lesson.

The video continued to play, the faint static of old footage mixing with Lando’s voice can be heard, his laughter like a distant echo from another life. As you watched yourself on the screen—smiling, frowning, existing in a world where everything felt so much simpler—memories came rushing back, faster and heavier than you had expected. They were not just simple memories of moments, they were reminders of how deeply you felt, how much your life revolved around Lando without you even realizing it.

Your feelings for him had always been the silent undercurrent of your friendship, unspoken but ever-present. You had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that you would grow out of it, but you never did.

Instead, those feelings rooted themselves deeper, becoming a part of you. You wondered if the reason you hadn’t moved on was not because you could not, but because you hadn’t really tried at all. Maybe you were afraid, maybe life felt easier when you let it stay messy, undefined—when you clung to the hope that Lando might see you differently someday.

But the reality of it all was far less romantic. You had become his backburner, a place he turned to only when he had nowhere else to go, and the most pathetic part? You didn’t even mind. You let yourself burn quietly on his backburner, knowing full well you would never be the main thing in his life.

No matter how many times you say to yourself that it was okay, that you could handle it, deep down it ate you. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted, there hadn’t been for years. It was always him, it will always be Lando—his laugh, his voice, his stupid smile that made you forget the pain he caused by just being himself. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t even let it go.

Your memory reeled in to that one particular night, a night etched into your memory like a scar. Lando had called you on facetime, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. His eyes were red, voice trembling with raw emotions as he told you what happened with Luisa.

She had hurt him again, made him feel small in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Lando looked so broken, so unlike himself, that it made your heart twist in ways that you did not want to admit.

And yet, you couldn’t help but tease him. You told him how he looked ugly when he cried, masking your own hurt with humor. But inside, there was a flicker of something else—something cruel and selfish. You felt happy that he thought of you in that moment, that you were the person he called when everything else in his life fell apart. It was sick and twisted, and you couldn’t have hated yourself more for it, but it was the truth.

At the same time, you felt conflicted, torn between two versions of yourself. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you by treating you like an afterthought. But the other part of you, the part that still believed in him, in the friendship you had shared since you were kids—wanted to comfort him, to be there for him even if it meant breaking yourself in the process.

You always knew how it would go. In a week or so, Lando would be back on his feet, back in Luisa’s orbit, and you would fade into the background again. He would stop calling, texting, and you would be left alone again, waiting for the next time he needed you. You wished you could stop caring, that you could let him go and just move on, but you couldn’t. You cared too much, loved him too deeply, and it was destroying you.

You stayed. You stayed because even though it hurt, even though it made you feel small and invisible, there was still a part of you that believed in him. In the boy who had once held your camcorder, laughing as he filmed you spinning in circles in the park. In the friend who had always been there, even when it felt like the rest of the world wasn’t. You believed in him, even if it meant you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You checked the timestamp on the video and realized it was nearing the end. The final clips began to play, taking you back to a day you remembered so clearly—the beach trip. The screen filled with bright sunlight and sand, camera jerking slightly as Lando filmed you running along the shoreline, wearing one of his bucket hats and sunglasses, your laughter ringing out over the crashing waves.

You watched yourself as if through someone else’s eyes—carefree, alive, darting back and forth like a puppy with boundless energy. Lando’s voice came from behind the camera, teasing you for your antics, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory.

It was one of those days you had hoped would change everything. Lando wasn’t thinking about Luisa then. He was with you, laughing, joking, making you feel like maybe you mattered more to him than you let yourself believe. You had clung to that slight flicker of hope every time he drifted back into your orbit, telling yourself that the moments he spent with you would eventually outweigh the hold Luisa had over him. But you know then, deep down, you knew better. You had always known better.

The last clip began to play. The two of you were in one of his cars, the camera shakily capturing the scene as he handed it to you. Lando had insisted you try driving it, grinning with the kind of reckless confidence that was so quintessentially him. You know that he hated someone driving him, especially that it was his car, but he didn’t even hesitated when it came to you.

The video was cut to him standing outside, filming you through the windshield as you tried to maneuver his car into a parking spot, and it was a disaster. He zoomed in on your face, flushed and irritated, as you waved frantically at him to get back inside of his car and help you. Your lips moved as you shouted something at him, your expression twisted in mock anger, but it only made him laugh.

That sound, the sound of his laughter—echoed through the room as you watched yourself scowling at him, completely oblivious to how the moment would look years later.

When the video finally faded to black, you sat there in silence, staring at the black screen of your laptop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a sad smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The memories left a bittersweet feeling in their wake, filling your chest with an ache that never really went away.

You always knew the truth. You would always be in Lando’s corner, even when it felt like he had forgotten you existed. You would stay, waiting in the shadows, knowing full well you were his second choice, or maybe not even a choice at all. Yet, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care, you had settled on being Lando’s backburner long ago, content to exist where he had placed you, because even the smallest scraps of his attention felt like more than you deserved. You knew it would never be enough, but it was all you had.

When you left the UK, you had never properly said goodbye to Lando. You couldn’t face him—not after everything. It had been the hardest thing you had ever done, leaving the place where you grew up and leaving the person that mattered to you the most.

The day you were about to board the plane to America was supposed to be the start of something new for you. But it also turned out to be the same day Lando and Luisa had finally gotten together. It didn’t make sense at first, you had been too wrapped up in your own plans to notice anything strange.

You were so focused on your own future, dreams, and adventure that lay ahead. But the moment you realized what had really happened, the gut-wrenching truth hit you all at once. Despite everything, despite all the years of friendship, despite the deep feelings you had kept buried, Lando had never said a word to you.

The first sign came two weeks before your departure, when you noticed he had not contacted you. Not once. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken, and then, one evening, it hit you. While youwere scrolling through instagram, lost in the sea of photos and videos, you saw it.

Lando and Luisa standing together in a sunlit paradise. They were everywhere—clinging to each other, smiling like they had always been this happy. Their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the couple everyone thought they were meant to be, living out the kind of romance you had always imagined for yourself—only, it was not with you.

It stung more that you could have imagined. It felt like a cruel grip and punch to the stomach—seeing them together, seeing him in a way you never thought you would. There they were, living life, having fun in Dubai, while you had been silently fading into the background, unable to say anything, unable to be anything more than just a shadow.

It suddenly made the decision easier for you. Maybe it was petty, or childish. But at that moment, it felt like it was the only way to protect yourself. You didn’t need to say goodbye, or talk to him again. You didn’t think that talking or saying goodbye to him would even change anything. You didn’t want to face the truth anymore—didn’t want to admit how much it hurts to be forgotten, be pushed aside while he moved on.

So, you did what you had to do. You packed up everything, every piece of your life that had been tangled with Lando’s, and left. You left without a word, without any explanation. The silence between you felt so final, so complete, as if you were never even meant to matter.

When you landed in America, you didn’t waste any second. You changed your number, blocked him on social media, deleted every trace of him from your phone, from your mind, from your life. It was easier that way, right? No more reminders of what you could never have. No more wondering if he still thought about you. It was better to start fresh, even if starting over meant leaving everything you knew behind. You never looked back, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You gently closed your laptop, the soft click of the screen snapping shut, and disconnected the camcorder. You wanted to throw it away, erase it from your life entirely, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the hope that one day, you could look at it without all the pain attached to it, or maybe it was the attachment to something that had once meant so much.

With a deep sigh, you placed it back in the memory box, careful not to let it settle to heavily among the other momentos you had packed away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to part with it—not yet at least. Instead, you pushed the box deeper into your storage room, where it would sit quietly for now, out of sight but never far from your mind.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the box as if it might somehow speak to you, but all it did was remain silent, like everything else in your life that you had tried to put behind you. The soft sound of snow falling outside caught your attention, and you moved toward the window, your gaze drawn to the soft flurry of while blanketing the streets below.

Christmas was approaching in just a week, and for a brief moment, you wished you could go home, back to your family, to the familiar comfort of the holiday season. But the thought quickly passed. Home felt too far now, and you had your own life to navigate, a life in New York that, for all its challenges, had become a place you had grown to love.

You turned away from the window and began to change, pulling on warm clothes fit for the snow outside. It wasn’t much, just a quick errand to stock up on groceries before it got too dark. You didn’t mind the task, it gave you a reason to get out, to take in the city and its wintry charm. The air was fresh and crisp as you made your way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you with a soft click.

The world around you was calm as you stepped out into the quiet of the snowy streets, snowflakes falling gently around you, almost like a veil between you and the hustle of city life. New York felt different in the winter, quieter somehow, even as the holiday decorations began to shine brighter. Streetlights casting long shadows across the snow, and you admired the festive cheer that the city wore like a second skin. You had seen the Christmas tree lighting at the New Haven Green just last week, a tradition that always brought a sense of warmth despite the chill in the air.

Walking through the snow, you felt a small sense of contentment, something you had been searching for but hadn’t fully realized was within reach. The lights, crisp air—all of it made you feel like you had carved out a space of your own here. You hoped that it would stay that way, that the peace you had found wouldn’t be disturbed, even as the holiday season and all its chaos loomed on the horizon.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but your thoughts drifted to other things—nothing too heavy, just the soft hum of city life. It had been a peaceful walk, but then, you froze.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, someone so familiar in the distance. Curly hair that you could picture in your sleep. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light, a resemblance that your mind conjured up after hours of rewatching old videos. You quickly dismissed the thought, trying to shake it off. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be here.

But then, as if the universe had conspired to pull the past back into your life. The person looked up, and everything in your world stopped. It was him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The air around you seemed to thicken, sounds of the city dimming in the background as you took in the sight of him. Lando. In New York. Of all places he can be in right now, why was he here?

It had taken a long time to convince yourself, year after year, that you were fine, that you had moved on, that everything was better this way. Yet here he was, standing only a few meters away from you, the same familiar figure that had been a part of your life for so long.

You both stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other as people around passed you by. Neither of you moved, as if the moment held too much weight to let anything else happen. It was like time had bent around you, your mind racing, questions swirling, but none of them found their way to your lips. You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you could breathe.

Lando stood there too, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that everything else feel irrelevant. You knew he hadn’t expected to see you. Not here, not like this. Yet, there he was—right in front of you, a ghost from your past made flesh, making the familiar ache in your chest resurface.

You had thought you were done with him, that you had moved on, but standing here, with him so close and yet so far, you realized that maybe you had not moved on as much as you thought.

The world around you seemed to hold its breath.

Masterlist

Updated finally!

High School AU Guns N’Roses x Reader

Slash-Most Likely To

Duff-Deadline

Past Deadline

Izzy-Fire series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Reptiles & Rogues Izzy Stradlin x reader series

Loaded Like a Freight Train (Part 1)

The Accidental Florist (Part 2)

Lizards and Longing (Part 3)

Thistles, Roses, and Thorns (part 4)

Cold-blooded Cuddles and the Bastard of Inconvenient Timing (Part 5)

Shameless Susan and the Troubadour Straddlin’ Situation (Part 6)

Thinking About You (Part 7)

The Unspoken Word (Part 8)

Floor A Izzy Stradlin x reader series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

The Top Hat Cafe Izzy Stradlin x reader/Guns N’ Roses coffeehouse AU series

“Coping Mechanisms” (Part 1)

Stroking Out (Part 2)

Epiphanies in the Land of Broken Dreams (Part 3)

The Important Questions (Part 4)

Over the Edge (Part 5)

Revelations, Inspired Rain, and A Hard-core Troubadour (Part 6)

I’m On Fire (Part 7)

Hey Jealousy (Part 8)

It’s a Nice Day to……Start Again (Part 9)

Bathing Beauties Izzy Stradlin fic

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Uncle Izzy Companion fic to It’s So Easy

Uncle Izzy

Uncle Izzy: You Could Be Mine

The Truth About Books and Dogs Izzy Stradlin x librarian reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Green Izzy Stradlin x neighbor reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3