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#built-with-a-golden-heart
justicebled · 1 year
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i was so busy organizing my blog and getting it down to below 50 people, because i genuinely wanted it to be private, that i forgot to make yuri's pri.de icon. his bio is extremely outdated.
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ex: he's a sagittarius no shocker there, december 10th is his birthday. i genuinely don't know how the lower quarter survives winter but lemme tell you it's a team effort.
plus yuri has grown with me for three years even when i've taken breaks writing him on this platform. but in terms of loving someone?
he's demi-panromantic. he's not someone to really indulge in physical relationships unless he feels an emotional and spiritual connection to the person. it's crucial that this person understands yuri and yuri understands them, which...isn't really hard for yuri's end, because yuri can see through 99.9 percent of people. he just doesn't care.
what yuri is attracted to is a person's soul, and their heart, and their beliefs, and how well they get along. if they can laugh together, if they can grow together, however the pace. because yuri's actions are borne of a love for the people, a love for a future where people realistically can live unoppressed knowing full well he cannot solve every problem, and a love for the land not through rose colored glasses, but full realism of it's ugliness and goodness.
he embraces all of that, and continues his journey. so much of ves.peria is about love and the way it drives others to act for others good. it generally is a tale of agape love, which is the most selfless form of love, something yuri embodies even before he realizes he cannot stop his hero's journey, and instead embraces it, consequences and all, good things and bad things, like choices are.
edgelord? far from it. broody? far from it. he sees things for what they are, without forced idealism if it's too uncomfortable to face the reality, he does not, and will not ever look away. if he wants to change things, protect people, shake the foundations of a system so thousands may live and prosper, he cannot look away because it's grisly. he hasn't since he was born in a slum where people and bodies were on the street left and right. he's seen things no one should ever see in their life.
he will never judge someone for their orientation, gender or not committing to one, or a person's standing, although he is cagey around nobles, he's slowly growing out of that thanks to meeting estelle.
the hardest thing about even remotely getting near yuri's heart is that for all it's unconditional love and love of humanity in a realistic, non shonen protag way, a person-like way, he has so much trauma and a desire to not involve others in his problems and feelings as he often if not 95 percent of the time will place you above his own needs, and this has been ingrained in him and thrust upon him since he was a child, it will not be an easy habit to break, and he isn't going to coddle you in a romantic or relationship period you yourself, have to make your own choices. you yourself, have to make the decision every day to do good, and while yuri will support and help you along, there is no such thing as 'fixing a person', that is the person's job, and yuri himself will encourage, stay by their side, and walk the path with them, but he cannot walk it for you, and he wouldn't want you to walk it for him. it's unhealthy and unrealistic.
but if you do get yuri to love you in the romantic capacity, there is no more devoted, gentle, noble and kind partner at his core, and ultimately seeks your betterment and your good without coddling you in an unrealistic way that would denote you weren't equals.
yuri's story is a realistic labor of love to mankind and an attainable future, it's why he sacrifices and fights so hard and fights so fiercely without coddling the people who have given up on their life. look at raven. he doesn't give him a speech. it's not his job. look at estelle. it's her choice to live. but he encourages them to make the choice themselves, heavily emphasizing how much they matter to him. it's why he's such a unique fictional hero-protagonist among many things, and so once you have him romantically which....is quite a hurdle? he has his own trauma and baggage hoo. there are few more loving, noble, heroic or benevolent,
one of vesperi.a's strong points though i think it's such a tightly written story, is that yuri subverts the trope you'd think you see of him: 'dark brooding and morally grey bad boy' and shows you he's the exact opposite, a man who laughs until he has tears in his eyes. a man who adores children and can't close his heart to people who need him, resulting in many, many people viewing him as a role model and big brother figure / mentor figure.
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but with romantic love . . . ultimately even if he does have feelings for you, don't expect him to act on them immediately. he just wants you to be happy.
tl;dr: yuri doesn't care about gender or no gender or undecided, loves the soul first, is demi-panromantic and so much love is stored in the yuri lowe.ll as much as unstoppable ass-kicking and king level snark.
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warborn-tragedy · 5 months
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In case anyone's wondering, while I do have Nicholas Galitzine as Arnold's 'normal' face claim, his actual physique/body build is much closer to Jaques ze Whipper on youtube/tiktok
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valtsv · 6 months
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a lot of stories will take a so-called "golden age" period and go "hey it wasn't actually that good, in fact it kind of sucked for basically everyone but a few guys who benefitted from exploiting the rest" and i can respect that because i love a good exposure of the bones the system is built on, but the thing is i also kind of want more stories where it really was that good and just as horrifying for it. empires bursting at the seams with opulence, where gold really does run as freely as blood in the gem-encrusted streets. warriors clad in shining armour, with weapons so bright and sharp they hurt to look at. every day is overflowing with possibility, every night a party where people gorge themselves sick on sheer excess and still return for more. even the poorest man in the region lives in comparative luxury to his poverty-stricken peers elsewhere. and none of it is sustainable. it's collapsing under its own weight and the rot eating at its heart, its bottomless hunger barely kept at bay. it's a society that isn't built to last or be outlived.
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bookishdiplodocus · 14 days
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The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity
(Even when life beats you down)
Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.
So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.
Focus on having fun, not on the outcome
This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.
I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.
But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”
So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like “fun” and “flow”.
Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it
I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.
I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.
Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.
I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.
I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.
Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.
I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.
Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle… Pick your stimulus and stick with it.
Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.
It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.
I lowered my definition for success
When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.
A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism
Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.
I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.
Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.
The more I do it, the more I do it
The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.
Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.
Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.
The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.
Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.
No pressure
Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?
These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.
Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)
Don’t wait for inspiration to hit
There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.
Accountability and community
Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.
The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.
Your toolbox
The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.
After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.
Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!
I hope this was useful. Happy writing!
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yandere-writer-momo · 6 months
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Yandere Head Canons:
Build-a-Yandere
Yandere Android x GN Reader
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You were lonely. A fact that you eventually came to terms with when you realized you’re the only one in your friend group that still remained single while they started families.
You felt so far behind everyone else. The self doubt crept its fingers into your mind and wouldn’t let go… so you did what you did best. You drowned yourself in the internet. The perfect digital escape from reality…
Dating apps did little to appease your loneliness, but they filled a bit of the void. It wasn’t until you were one wine bottle deep and scrolling through your favorite social media app that you stumbled upon an advertisement to sample a product.
Build-a-boyfriend. A company that allowed its customers to pick every single aspect out for their ideal man. From personality to physical appearance and even to penis size. You could build your own man!
A slurred chuckle escaped your lips. Should you apply to test out their product? It’s not like you had anything to lose… what could be the harm in giving it a shot?
And so you began to fill out the quiz. You wanted a soft and gentle boyfriend. One of those golden retriever boys who only had eyes for you. The kind of guy who had a muscular yet soft build. A man who worked out but would never say no to a cookie. A taller guy who always knew what to say and was cuddly. The kind of guy who was obsessed with you.
The quiz even asked you at the end if you were sure you wanted an obsessive man. Of course you were! Wasn’t that what most people wanted? A partner who was only and all about them? That’s what obsession was! Right?
And so your drunk self finished this entire personality quiz until it went to the physical appearance and the sexual bit. A perverted smile now on your face.
“Let’s give him a big penis.” You laughed as you guided your cursor to drag the length bar to eight inches long. “I want to be filled.”
And then you selected caramel skin tone, cinnamon eyes, and black hair. A smile on your face. You were going to make this android a Latin lover.
“What should I name him…” you thought for a moment before laughing. “Alejandro! Like the lady Gaga song.”
Once you completed the entire quiz, your phone screen lit up a pastel pink. A red heart now in the center of the screen. “Your boyfriend will be delivered to you in a month! Thanks for choosing Build-a-boyfriend!”
And you ended up falling asleep in a puddle of your own drool. Weren’t you just pathetic? Filling out a quick from some questionable website all because you were lonely… imagine you were just scammed? God, why did you not have a boyfriend? Ever since your ex broke up with you, you fell apart. Why weren’t you good enough for a real man?
A month went by in a flash and you were shocked to see the giant package on your doorstep. An envelope attached to the box as well as a large note that said, “No returns!”
This had to be some kind of prank… there was no way this was real- holy shit.
You opened the crate and came face to face with your ideal man… the one you built! Alejandro!
The human like android’s eyes fluttered open, his face quickly lit up once he spotted you. “(Your name)? Are you my girlfriend?!”
You were quickly scooped up into his surprisingly warm arms, the android had a heavy scent of spice and oranges. His nose buried into your neck as he pressed kisses all over your cheeks. “It’s so nice to finally be with you… I’ll be with you from now on!”
Alejandro was a chipper robot. He did household work and made sure you took care of yourself. It was fascinating how human he was… you only knew he wasn’t because of his lack of a beating heart. His body still produced heat, like a furnace, but it wasn’t as comforting as a human presence.
Alejandro assimilated into your life with ease. The weeks quickly rolled into months and he never let you ignore his presence. He was very clingy.
Now the sex was another story. Alejandro was so giving, it was surprising. He often went down on you when he sensed you were stressed. His tongue greedily lapped at your hole as you laid in your bed while his hands held your cheeks apart. His hand pawed at your sex in eagerness. “I want you… want you.”
And Alejandro had you bent over the side of your bed, his fat cock stuffed deep in your tight hole. His hand wrapped around your throat and his tongue shoved in between your lips while his other smacked your bottom between rough thrusts. The sex was amazing… it was always so good.
And Alejandro often checked on you after the deed was done. His warm body curled into yours as he praised you. Yet it began to fill you with disappointment. Alejandro wasn’t a real man. He wasn’t human… he was an android. A robot. Alejandro didn’t know what love was, he was programmed to love you.
So you tried to distance yourself from Alejandro. You felt sickened with yourself for messing around with an android instead of a real man. And this entire thought process stemmed from your friends who expressed disgust in people who fucked robots instead of actual humans. And that filled you with fear. Would they abandon you if you didn’t get rid of Alejandro? Would they think you were disgusting?
“If you want, I could set you up with my cousin!” One of your friends smiled at you as you bit your fingernails. “He’s also single so it should work! I’ll swing by in a week to give you the details!”
Yes. You would take them up on their offer. You just had to get rid of Alejandro first… but how?
A few days had went by and you greatly underestimated Alejandro’s obsession. The android couldn’t handle your avoidance. He began to turn up his affection to the max.
He cleaned until you could see your reflection on the floor. He began to go out of the house to pick you wild flowers. Alejandro even began to be more physically affectionate than he was.
“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry.” Alejandro cried into your arms as he held you. “Please tell me what’s wrong… please. I can fix it.”
“Alejandro… it’s just that you’re not a human man.” You sighed softly. “And I-“
“Is it because I don’t have a heart?” Alejandro softly asked you, his cinnamon eyes now dark like the night sky. “I can’t produce semen? Am I not a comfortable temperature? Or does my skin not feel human enough?”
“I’m sorry-“
“Then I can fix it! I will fix it!” Alejandro held your hands firmly in his. His eyes filled with determination. “I’m your boyfriend! I will be anything you want me to be!”
You just held the android who pulled you into a tight hug. His nose buried into your chest like a lost child. Alejandro then smiled into your skin. He would fix this… he wouldn’t let you abandon him! You made him! You had to take responsibility…
Imagine your horror to come home to see your friend skinned alive as Alejandro held their heart in his hands, the organ still beating from the fresh kill. A big smile on his handsome face.
“I have a heart now! I’ll find all the parts you like and add them in! So please don’t abandon me!”
Just what kind of monster have you created?
“You don’t need some human man to be your match because you have me!” Tears fell down your face when Alejandro tried to wipe your tears away with his bloody hands. “I’m your perfect man, (your name). You made me this way.”
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pedrospatch · 2 months
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call it what it is
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel. fair warning, i am quite rusty.
word count: 4.2k
a/n: hi hello. i have not shared a wip in over 2 months. i was going back and forth on whether or not i wanted to share a fic with so much going on but decided i wanted to get back to doing what i enjoy. that and ofc that new footage was a boost of inspo. i am sending so, so much love to anyone who happens to see this author note, whether you read this fic or just happen to see this note in passing whilst scrolling. i know things have been tough, but i am here with you. <3
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Joel wakes with a gentle start. Yawning, he rolls over from his side onto his back, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as warm, golden sunlight filters into the bedroom through the sheer, white linen curtains drawn over the window. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing slow, steady, and even. He’s still getting used to it, it seems. Waking this calmly, with a tranquil peace he had been so certain he would never in his life feel again. He knew it couldn’t be a mere coincidence the nightmares had all but stopped tormenting him in his sleep when the two of you stopped doing that awkward little tap dance around one another and began sharing a bed, a home, a life.
No more bolting upright in sheer panic in the middle of the night, heart pounding and drenched head to toe in a cold sweat. No more believing he’s failing in his sleep. No more waking up feeling like he’s lost something.
Even his dreams about Sarah had become so, so much more pleasant. Images of her in that field on that night were replaced by different memories, like watching her teammates dogpile her after she’d scored the winning goal in their soccer tournament, or the big, triumphant grin she’d flashed him over her chocolate milkshake as the pair sat in their usual corner booth at their favorite fifties-themed diner in Austin—much to Joel’s surprise, Sarah had politely declined her teammates’ invitation for pizza once the match ended, choosing to celebrate her victory with him. Just the two of them.
“Y’sure you don’t wanna go with your friends, kiddo?” he’d asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been certain she was approaching the age where she would start spending less and less time with her old man. “I wouldn’t mind, y’know.”
“Positive,” she had reassured him with a smile, looping her arm through his and leading him off the pitch. “I’d much rather be with you, dad.”
Rather than smelling metallic in his slumber, he smells the grass that stained her white and blue striped jersey. Her cheeks are smeared with dirt, not with crimson.
Stifling another loud yawn, Joel stretches his arm out over towards your side of the bed, his calloused fingers seeking the warmth and softness of your naked body—instead, all they find are empty sheets, cold and long abandoned. He turns his head, and as suspected, you are not laying there beside him. That’s hardly out of the ordinary. Out of the two of you, you were the early riser, up before the neighbors’ rooster even had the chance to sound the alarm. Joel knows how much you treasure your quiet mornings lounging on the porch swing he’d built for you as you watched the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee in hand. He often made a genuine effort to get up and join you, but lately, his patrol rotations had been all over the place thanks to a shortage of patrolmen. He found himself sleeping in whenever he had the chance, seeing as he never knew when he might have to work a damn double. Or maybe it was just his age catching up with him.
He checks the time and then rolls out of bed, groaning when his sore knees and his aching lower back protest his movement.
After taking a quick shower using whatever hot water the kid had left for him after her own shower—much to his annoyance, it was not very much—Joel brushes his teeth and gets dressed for the day before pulling on his boots and heading downstairs into the kitchen where he finds the culprit responsible for the cold downpour he’d been forced to wash himself under. Ellie’s sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her oatmeal around her bowl with her spoon as she flips through one of her comic books. Just as he’s about to greet her, he spots the clean, empty coffee pot on the kitchen counter and frowns. You hadn’t even made coffee yet?
Now, that—that is out of the ordinary.
“Where is she?” he asks.
“Well, good morning to you too, old man. Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking,” Ellie quips without looking up at him as she flips the page. She mumbles something under her breath he doesn’t quite catch, something like, and you get on my ass about my manners?
Rolling his eyes, Joel snorts in response and pads over to the coffee maker on the counter. He spoons in some of the grounds he’d traded for earlier that week into the reusable filter, pours in water from the tap, and turns it on to brew. He grabs two ceramic mugs from the wire dish rack beside the sink and sets them down on the counter. “She out back?” he questions, yanking the refrigerator door open—he tries to remember the little things, like how you enjoyed your coffee with a bit of milk as well as a dash of cinnamon, if you had the rations, or something to trade for the precious spice. He always made sure that you did.
“Nope.” Ellie shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth and adds thickly, “She went to get some eggs.”
Joel shoots her a look of disgust over his shoulder. “Jesus, Ellie! How many times do I gotta tell you? Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s bad manners,” he scolds her, shaking his head. He turns his attention back to the refrigerator. As he reaches for the glass bottle of milk, he pauses and his eyebrows pull together in confusion when he sees the wicker basket on the top shelf. “Wait a minute.” He feels her stiffen in her chair. “Why the hell would she go get eggs when we’ve got a full basket of ‘em right here in the fridge?”
She clears her throat. “Oh, uh, my bad. I got confused. Think she said she was gonna go get more honey? Uh, I used the last of it to make my breakfast this morning and she, uh—she wanted some for her toast. You know, ‘cause she really likes putting honey on her toast,” she rambles before piling more oatmeal into her mouth.
Closing the refrigerator door, he turns to her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as uneasiness settles deep in the pit of his stomach. “Ellie?”
There’s a momentary pause. “...yeah?”
This time, Joel doesn’t bother to chastise the teenager for talking with her mouth full. “Where is she?”
Ellie nervously swallows her food and holds up both of her hands. “Hey, I already fucking told you, man.”
“Look, I know you like the back of my own hand, kiddo. And I know damn good and well when you’re lying to me.” Joel crosses his arms over his chest. “Now tell me the truth. What do you know that I don’t?”
Groaning, Ellie sits back in her chair. “Ugh. She made me swear not to tell you! She’ll fucking strangle me if I do—”
“Yeah, well, not if I fuckin’ strangle you first myself,” he threatens her. “M’Serious, Ellie. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”
“Alright, alright! Jesus,” she huffs. “She’s with Tommy. He’s been taking her out of town to do target practice in the mornings, just the two of them. She usually gets back to the house before you get up,” she admits.
Joel’s arms fall back to his sides, his shoulders tense. “And how long has this been goin’ on?” he asks, rigidly. There’s a sudden tightness inside his chest, a feeling he hasn’t felt it in a while, but is still all too familiar to him.
After Tommy spread the word around town that more people were needed for patrol duties, you’d expressed an interest in the role, but Joel had been all too quick to shut you down, telling you he didn’t want you stepping foot outside the community’s gates.
“No,” he’d said. “Not happenin’. S’too dangerous.”
“But Joel—”
“I said,” he lowered his voice. “No.”
He hadn’t offered you an explanation as to why he was against it, refused to give you one good, solid reason as to why it was acceptable for him to risk his own life to protect Jackson, but it wasn’t acceptable for you to do the same.
Joel hadn’t known how to tell you the truth. How he needed you far, far more than you needed him, how the mere thought of losing you, the best fucking thing that could have possibly happened to him since the world ended, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.
A few weeks had passed since then, and thankfully, you never brought it up to him again. You had lost interest in patrol duty. Or so he’d thought.
“How long has this been going on?” he repeats after a minute.
“C’mon, man! Haven’t I already snitched enough?”
“Ellie,” Joel bites out her name. “Tell me. How long?”
She sighs in defeat. “Two weeks? Maybe three?” When she notices the muscle in his jaw tick, she grimaces. “You do realize why she didn’t fucking tell you, right?”
“Don’t,” he warns her, sharply.
“I’m just saying,” Ellie mutters, peering down into her bowl.
Without another word, Joel angrily storms past her and straight out the front door, snatching up his rifle on the way. He heads straight for the stables, trying to ignore the anxiety flaring inside of his chest.
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Focus.
Now, breathe in. And breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe...
You exhale as you slowly squeeze the trigger.
Y’squeeze it like you love it, you had been told by your reluctant instructor.
The round fires off into the distance and you swiftly grab the bolt handle, bringing it up, back, forward, and then down again. You pull the trigger once more, then repeat and continue firing one shot after the other for a total of five rounds.
The rifle’s recoil nearly sends you flying backwards, but a strong hand on your back keeps you nice and steady. That same hand then moves to your shoulder and gives you three firm taps.
“Alright, alright! Christ,” Tommy laughs. He withdraws his arm from around you and shakes his head. “Fuckin’ calm down, Annie Oakley.”
Picking up his binoculars, he rises to his feet and looks through the lens at the makeshift targets that he’d set up for you, three empty soup cans lined up in a row on top of a wooden fence about twenty-five yards away—your longest shooting distance to date.
“Well?” You don’t even bother masking your impatience as you lower the rifle, carefully propping the weapon up against the tree stump you’re perched behind. Rubbing your sore shoulder, you hope the kickback won’t leave a bruise. You wouldn’t know how to explain that to Joel. “How did I do?”
His response comes in the form of a long, low whistle.
There is no telling if that had been good whistle, or if it had been a bad one. You groan. Now was not the time for him to dick around. “Please tell me I got at least one of them?”
“You got ‘em all, actually.” Tommy replies, lowering the binoculars and peering down at you. There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Good job, kid.”
Kid? Not exactly a nickname one wants to be called by the brother of the much, much older man that they are romantically involved with. It’d taken Tommy months to accept your relationship with Joel, especially when you moved your things out of your unit and into his over the summer. Part of you wonders if him referring to you as a kid is simply his own subtle way of telling you—no, of reminding you, that he’s still not comfortable with it.
And perhaps he never would be.
After all, you had still been a teenager when you first arrived to Jackson a few years ago, stumbling upon the town just a few months shy of the twentieth birthday you weren’t sure you would survive long enough to see.
You were indeed a kid when you’d met Tommy Miller.
Were.
Scowling up at him, you snap, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not nineteen anymore, Tommy.”
Having read your mind, he gives you a small smile and acknowledges, “Yeah, you’re right. You definitely ain’t a kid anymore.” He offers you his hand and hoists you up to your feet. Before dropping your hand, he gives it an apologetic squeeze.
You relax a little and smile back at him. “Did I really get all three?”
Tommy nods. “You sure did. You’re a damn good shot. I gotta be honest with you—I didn’t expect you to be this fuckin’ good,” he admits sheepishly.
Chuckling, you scoff, “Thanks. I think.”
“It’s a compliment, sugar.” He winks and flashes you a lopsided grin. “In fact, I’d say my work here is done.”
“Great! So when are you putting me on the roster?”
His grin instantly vanishes. “Uh, listen. About that....”
He trails off, and your heart sinks a little.
Tommy wouldn’t back out of this now—would he?
“Oh, no. Don’t you dare go back on your word, Miller,” you say, lightly poking him in the chest. “We had a deal. You said if I did well enough, you’d think about it.”
He nods in agreement. “Exactly. Said I’d think about it. And I think that puttin’ you on the roster for patrol ain’t a good idea.”
Your mouth falls open. If he never had any intention of holding up his end of the bargain, then what had been the point of teaching you how to shoot?
You didn’t understand.
“You just said it yourself, I’m a great shot! I’m a good on horseback, too. I’m stealthy. I’m diligent. What more do you fucking need from me, Tommy?”
Tommy’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “Joel would fuckin’ murder me with his bare hands if I even thought about puttin’ you on patrol duty. Hell, he’d murder me just knowin’ we’re out here and I’m teachin’ you how to shoot. It’s a damn fuckin’ miracle he still hasn’t caught onto this, y’know.”
Shocked, your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. “This is about Joel? Are you serious?”
“‘Course it is.” He pauses. “Listen, now I know the three of us had our—differences—when he first told me ‘bout you two. Still takin’ me a bit of gettin’ used to, but I can see he’s real serious about you. I know my brother, and I know he won’t risk losin’ what’s most important to him. Ain’t no way in hell. He doesn’t want you out here and you know that as well as I do.” Tommy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he shuffles his weight from one cowboy boot to the other. “Unless he’s alright with it, I ain’t gonna put you on the roster.”
For a moment, you’re at a complete loss for words.
Upon seeing the crestfallen expression on your face, he makes a suggestion. “You can try talkin’ to him ‘bout it again if it means that much to you. Ask him—”
“Ask?” You want to laugh. You almost do. “I’m an adult, Tommy. I don’t need his permission to do this. Or to do anything for that matter. Joel doesn’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
Tommy smiles wryly. “Well then, if that’s the case, why are we sneakin’ around and doin’ this behind his back?”
Your shoulders slump in defeat.
Because the ramifications could be disastrous.
Joel had made his stance on the matter abundantly clear, and yet here you were, deliberately disobeying him.
“Stumped you real good, didn’t I?”
Before you can even start to think about how you can possibly respond to that, you hear the sound of hooves in the dirt behind you, followed by whinny of a horse.
Tommy’s face pales as he glances over your shoulder.
“Shit.”
There’s no need for you to ask. His grimace says it all.
Somehow, you will yourself to turn around just as Joel’s steed comes to a halt beside the mare you and Tommy had ridden out on together. He jumps out of the saddle, grunting at the forceful impact on his knees when his feet hit the ground. His rifle hangs from a worn, brown leather strap slung across his back.
He approaches the two of you looking absolutely livid, and your throat goes dry.
“The hell is goin’ on here?” He breezes right past you, roughly shoving his brother with both hands. “Why the fuck would you bring her out here, Tommy? What the fuck is the matter with you?”
“Joel, c’mon. Take it easy—”
“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to take it easy!”
“Joel!” You reach for his arm. “Wait, it’s not his fault!”
Joel shoves him again, then takes him by the collar of his shirt and pins him against the ponderosa pine tree behind him. “You’ve been bringin’ her outside the gates behind my fuckin’ back for weeks, asshole?”
The panic begins to set in—he’s taking his anger out on the wrong person, and deep down, he knows this too.
“Joel! Stop! Let him go!” Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, you try pulling him off of the younger man. “Stop it! It’s not his fault! I asked Tommy to bring me out here!”
He whirls around, his nostrils flared, jaw clenched.
You’ve seen this side of him a handful of times before.
But his anger has never been directed at you.
“What?”
Immediately, you let go of him and take a step back. “I asked Tommy to bring me out here and teach me how to shoot so that I can start working patrol,” you explain, hoping, praying, he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. “This was all my idea, okay? If you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Not at him.”
“So you did this after I fuckin’ told you I didn’t want you out here?” Joel seethes. His neck becomes flushed, his tan skin now a deep shade of red.
“Joel—”
He cuts you off. “I had to find out from Ellie? You tried to get her to fuckin’ lie to me? After all the work it took for me and her to—” Stopping mid sentence, he places his hands on his hips and shakes his head.
“Joel. Please.” Behind the anger in his dark brown eyes, you detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concern—fear?
Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. “Well I’m, uh—I’m gonna head back to town,” he says, touching a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ll let the two of you work things out in private.” As he passes Joel, he lightly claps him on the shoulder. “Girl’s a sharp shooter, big brother. I’d reckon she’s almost better than you.”
His effort to lighten the mood fails. Miserably.
Offering you a subtle nod of encouragement, Tommy hops into the saddle of his mare and takes off towards the commune.
Silence falls over the both of you. It feels suffocating.
Unfamiliar.
Finally, you speak. “Joel, please just hear me out—”
“What the hell were you thinkin’? Or were you just not thinkin’ at all?”
“I was thinking I want to pull my weight in Jackson.”
“You already have a fuckin’ job,” Joel reminds you.
“Making sandwiches and serving whiskey at The Tipsy Bison?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am capable of more than that, Joel. So much more. Don’t you believe I’m capable of doing more?”
“I don’t want you out here,” he grits through his teeth. “Capable or not, I don’t want you outside Jackson’s walls. I don’t want you on patrol and that’s fuckin’ final. You understand me?” Now it’s him who falters, and you wonder if you’re imagining things, or if that’s really a tear you see sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the salt and pepper scruff of his beard.
“That’s not your decision to make, Joel. It’s mine.”
“M’responsible for you. It’s my job to look after you—to protect you.”
Something about the way he is looking at you, it feels like a punch to the gut, and it’s at that precise moment when you begin to realize that he’s not angry. He’s afraid.
“Joel, I know that all you want to do is protect me,” you sigh, letting your arms fall down to your sides. “I know you do. But you’re doing me no favors by trying to keep me sheltered. By treating me like I’m defenseless. Don’t forget, I’m a survivor too.”
“You already know how fuckin’ dangerous it is out here. Clickers, raiders—”
“I can handle it,” you insist, stubbornly.
“You’d be puttin’ yourself right in harm’s way!”
You shoot back, “You mean, the way you and so many other people put yourselves in harm’s way every single day for the sake of keeping Jackson safe?”
A frustrated growl rumbles through his chest. “Christ, why are you bein’ so fuckin’ foolish? You’re just askin’ to get yourself killed!”
“I can take care of myself!” You realize your hands are shaking and curl them into tight fists at your sides in an effort to hide it. “Just accept it, Joel! Accept that I can take care of myself, alright?”
That is all it takes to tip Joel over the edge he’s been teetering on. “Then what do you fuckin’ need me for?” he shouts, his voice thundering over the quiet plains of Wyoming. “If you can take care of yourself, what’s the point in us bein’ together? Why are you with me?”
“Because I love you!”
As soon as the confession comes tumbling out of your mouth, you take a step back, your wide eyes meeting his own. Until now, neither of you have ever called this what it is, been bold enough to say it’s love.
Loving after so much grief, so much loss, is daunting. It’s something you thought you would never be capable of doing again, not in this lifetime. Not in this world. It’s happened, though.
You love Joel Miller.
And he loves you.
He’s never told you he does, but he’s shown you.
From the way remembers how you take your coffee in the mornings, to the way he laces his fingers with your own, holding your hand when he’s buried inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your collarbone every single night.
“You—you what?” Joel’s whisper is hardly audible.
You inch your way closer to him, your voice soft. “I love you,” you declare once more. “I’m not with you because of what you can do for me. I’m not with you because you can take care of me.” Closer. “I’m with you because I love you—because I’m in love with you, Joel.” Closer, until your chest brushes against his, and he can smell the subtle scent of your homemade, rosewater soap. “The only thing I need, and have ever needed from you, is your love in return.”
His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he lifts his hands and gently takes your face, cradling it in between his large palms, gently. His eyes search yours, immediately finding the sincerity behind your words. Leaning down, he brushes the tip of nose against your own as one of his hands travels down, his long fingers curling around the nape of your neck. His thumb lightly strokes the column of your throat.
“I love you,” Joel says hoarsely. Three words he hadn’t said to anyone in over two decades—it feels foreign to him, they ring strange in his own ears. He tries it again, clearer this time, and with a little more confidence. After all, he’s only saying what he has known from the very start. “I love you.” His other hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer to him. “M’gonna love you for the rest of my life, baby.”
He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly, at first, but he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, silently asking for more.
Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the ponderosa, kissing you deeply, greedily, like he’s a man starved.
You whimper into him, your hands sliding up his broad chest and past his shoulders until they’re tangled in his soft, graying curls. He breathes you in, like you are the oxygen he needs to stay alive.
It isn’t until you both hear the sound of rustling behind a nearby shrub that you’re forced to pull apart. “Don’t move,” Joel instructs in a hushed voice. He keeps you pinned against the tree, his hand abandoning your hip. He glances around, slowly reaching behind his back for his rifle. His tense shoulders relax when the both of you see a pair of rabbits dart out from one dried bush and straight into another. Exhaling an amused huff, Joel shifts his attention back to you and rests his forehead against yours.
Smiling, you reach up and softly graze his beard with your fingertips. “Guess it’s about time we called this what it is, huh?”
“Guess you’re right, darlin’.” He lifts his chin, brushing a kiss onto your forehead. “M’sorry for raisin’ my voice to you. For talkin’ to you the way I did. S’just, the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to you out here scares shit out of me.” Taking a step back, he pulls the strap of his rifle from around his shoulder. He chews the inside of his cheek and silently stares at the gun in his hands. After a minute, he meets your curious gaze. “Do you really wanna do this, sweet girl?”
You nod. “Yeah. I really do.”
Joel sighs. “Can I put a condition it?”
“Depends on what that condition is.”
“I’m your patrol partner. Every shift. Every rotation.”
You roll your eyes. “Joel.”
“At least for the first few weeks,” he bargains. “Last thing I need is for you to be paired up with some fuckin’ idiot who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doin’.”
Knowing that would be the only way he’d have some peace of mind, you decide to agree. “Fine. We’re patrol partners.”
“Alright then.” Joel nods and hands you the rifle. He flashes you a small grin. “Show me what you got, baby.”
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divider credit to @/saradika 💛
for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!
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Miquella vs Ranni: Loyalty and Love
SPOILERS FOR SHADOW OF THE ERDTREE UNDER THE CUT, BUT COME FOR MY THOUGHTS!
There are so many essays I could write, comparing Ranni and Miquella, but I'm going to contain myself and focus on the most important aspect of comparisons: how they treat the concepts of love and loyalty and the people who give that to them. Especially in light of Miquella's instant kill "Heart Steal" attack.
The thing about Miquella is, even though he's kind, even though he's compassionate, he DOES NOT VALUE love and loyalty. And why should he? It's always been given freely to him. He can just force someone to love him anyway, stealing their heart. So, the people who love him are disposable, treated like pawns. Malenia? Literally left to rot in the home they built together. Mohg? Turned into a glorified guard dog. Even Radahn, turned into his perfect consort.
And Miquella probably does love them, but his perception of love is completely skewed by the nature of the fact that EVERYONE loves him. It's something he just gets. Something he uses.
Compassion and love are Miquella's weapons. They're what he uses to protect himself. It's cheap, something he can get easily.
Now, compare that to Ranni.
For Ranni, love and loyalty are dangerous. She's seen how ruinous and terrible they can be. She's seen her mother's mind wither away, a consequence of Radagon breaking her heart. She's seen Radagon break Rennala's heart for his love of the Golden Order.
The only people who loved her unconditionally are Blaidd and Iji, and even Iji's more around out of loyalty to the House of Caria than love for Ranni.
That is to say, Ranni respects and understands the power of love more than Miquella ever could.
Think of how she tells you to leave her to her lonely path. Her engagement ring, engraved with a warning to stay away, that her destiny is cold and lonely. Ranni pushes people away for their own safety, and that makes her love all the more valuable.
Love, for Ranni, is something at once dangerous and precious. The despondent way she tells you, once you've defeated the Baleful Shadow, to tell Blaidd and Iji that she loves them. Ranni knows what their love has cost them. Knows what it has bought her. She respects love and is naturally wary of it.
And that's what makes it so valuable.
Miquella doesn't appreciate love, because he's always had it.
Ranni treasures it because she's always struggled with it.
God, I love this game.
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seraphicsentences · 3 months
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you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.
closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader
pt.2 here: all mine
tags: internalized homophobia, smut, cheating, tw:owen, fingering (aa!receiving), lowkey sub!aa
A/N: we do not condone cheating here! unless it’s on owen fuck that asshole. sorry i disappeared for 100 years!! hope this is half-decent enough to make up for it. working on reqs i promise!!!! i love you all my sweet angels <333
please click me!!!
it was undeniable— the tension, between you and abby anderson. your queer sexuality was common knowledge amongst the WLF base, and your reputation as a womanizer quite contributory to the hot topic. on the complete opposite of the spectrum stood abby: top soldier, with the highest leading score in kills, and most importantly, dutiful girlfriend to owen moore.
where she stood on the line of homosexuality was made evidently clear. from the way she scoffed under her breath at the sight of your marked-up one night stands, to her weekly mornings at the base’s sunday service, you had found an almost masochistic pleasure in ticking her off to your best efforts.
you would catch yourself throwing offhand comments towards your latest hookups when she was in ears range. “my dick’s better than any man’s, isn’t that right, baby?”
in the mere corner of your peripheral vision you would see abby’s jaw tighten, gaze hard as she refused to look your way— her own sort of defiance to your antics. a haughty smirk threatened to break across your face. you couldn’t exactly place your finger on as to why you were so enamored with her understated reactions, rather than focused on the pretty, blushing girl in front of you. it became a thrill you craved insatiably, and built up as a wall between you two over the years, bound to come tumbling sooner or later.
~
mid-summer now, the longer days and better hunt called for a compulsory celebration. wlf’s central lounge was buzzing with drunken chatter and alight with the golden hue of mini lamp lights.
your childish bickering with abby hadn’t lessened up any bit, and to much of your delight, had begun to stir up more volatile reactions of hers as they’ve persisted.
you sat across her now, separated by only a couple foot’s distance and a beer bottle, which lay empty and flat on its side.
“spin the bottle? what are we, twelve?” abby scoffed at the idea.
she sat crisscrossed, forearms resting atop her legs, muscles straining against her tight grey shirt, and you couldn’t help but wonder how she, the very picture of masc, was so adamantly straight.
“aw, scared, anderson?” you grinned devilishly.
she physically recoiled, as if the very thought of being intimidated by someone like you burned her mind. haughty self satisfaction coursed through your veins, sick pleasure in knowing you could get under her skin so easily. running your eyes salaciously down her figure, you watched as she shifted nervously. cute.
“es solo un juego, abby,” manny says, shrugging.
“whatever,” she replies, “just get on with it.”
as the rounds go by, you can’t help but take note of the way abby awkwardly averts her gaze from whichever two lucky partakers kiss, no matter the duo. scoffing, she teasingly mouths ‘pendejo’ after manny stupidly grins into his third kiss of the night. you watch her smile disappear in a brief second when the your turn arises.
eye contact unwavering, you stare down abby as the bottle whirls around, waiting for it to select its next target. you can’t quite understand why your heart feels like it’s racing out of your chest the closer the bottlehead gets to nodding the blonde’s direction.
it inches closer. slower now.
a person away— and it stops.
…on the pretty girl next to abby.
abby releases a harsh breath you didn’t realize she was holding, chest rising slowly as she catches some air. you blink.
you cross the short distance between the two of you crawling, abby eyeing you down, before swerving your course of action in the last moment to land yourself in front of the girl next to her. without a moment’s hesitation you tug her in for a kiss, or no, multiple kisses as you tongue the girl down hungrily. she groans into it with a matched eagerness, desperate to get a dose of your infamous mouth.
your eyes flicker open between kisses, expecting to get an eyeful of the top of the blonde’s head, but you’re met with quite the opposite. the piercing stare of none other than abby anderson sends a chill down your spine. her breath hitches— she looks like she’s been fucking caught. and as tempting as the girl in front of you is, you can’t tear your gaze away from her.
you begin to dominate what is now a full-blown makeout session, eyes darkened, breaths unsteady, hands pulling. she just watches, bound to the floor. you watch her watch. and you want her to want it.
you pull away with a final tug on the girl’s bottom lip, feeding off the way abby’s eyes follow the action. someone wolf-whistles in the background, but, even flustered now, you can’t shake the undeniable tension between yourself and abby.
the rhythmic thumping of blood rushing through your skull acted rather as a barrier between your awareness and the continuing rounds. thankfully, you were left as a mere onlooker, free of any further unwanted attention.
abby had gone back to staring at her lap, you discovered, watching intently as she picked a stray hair off her jeans.
“hey anderson,” you called over, her reaction immediate— head jolting up.
her eyes relaxed to a glare once she realized you were the one addressing her, raising an eyebrow in question.
“i think it’s ‘bout your turn, yeah?”
“you fu-“
“solo un juego, abby,” manny cuts in.
with a huff, abby begrudgingly leans over to give the bottle a spin, tapping her fingers against the floor in anticipation.
the bottle stops. so does your heart, for just a second.
you look up. abby looks to owen. the fucking son of a bitch lends no help, smirking, excited that his perverted fantasies have come to life before his eyes.
“c’mon then,” you nod at her, leaning back on your wrists, almost in invitation.
she moves slowly, braid dangling by her shoulder as she scooches towards you, hands coming to a stop on the floor in front of you.
closer now, you can feel the heat radiating off her large figure onto your own, the light brush of her breaths intermingling with your own. yet— she makes no move to get any closer.
you loop a finger around her neckline and drag her in, teeth clashing from the aggression, noses bumping; it’s no fairytale kiss. but then your tongue licks into her open mouth, perhaps merely by muscle memory, or maybe because you secretly want a taste of more, and she fucking whimpers. so quiet, strangled, from the back of her throat, but you hear it nonetheless, and god, you feel it.
the switch up is almost immediate: abby pulling away faster than you can blink, back in her original spot before you know it, wiping at her mouth. but she was too late. you knew what she craved, and you were going to make sure she’d have to beg for it.
~
the party was in full swing now, majority of the room drunk off of wlf’s own brew, which meant everyone was completely fucked up.
you stumbled over to the serving area, leaning haphazardly over the bar to scan the room without falling over. your eyes caught onto a familiar blonde, seated quietly with a group composed of what you assumed to be her usual patrol friends. she’s seated next to owen, the fucker, who has his arm lazily swung around the skank sprawled on the other side of him. your eyes are glued to the visible scrunch between abby’s eyebrows, fingers itching to reach out and press it away.
“who’s the lucky girl you’re sinking your claws into tonight?”
your head swivels towards the voice, met with a concerned look from alex, wlf’s residential mixologist.
“…you good, babe?”
“fuck— yeah, just got a lit, a little dizzy for sec. the answer to, uh- to, your question is no one,” you hiccuped, grinning up at alex as you rested your head against the cold counter.
“uh-huh, sure. i’ll let you have your secrets. i won’t pry,” she quips.
you laugh, miming an imaginary lock over your lips before tossing the ‘key’ away. “what can i say? i’m a gentleman, alex, no, gentlewoman. i don’t kiss and te-“
you’re cut off by another voice approaching the counter, low and slurring, asking for a glass of straight whiskey.
you roll your head over, faced with the towering frame of none other than abby anderson. she’s closer than you expected her to be, causing you to stumble back a step, and then laugh at yourself, muttering under your breath, straight whiskey for the straight girl.
“i think you’ve had well enough, anderson. even with all the muscle on you, man, i don’t know how you got this hammered. i’ll get you some water, honey,” alex jokes.
abby sulks, spacing out as she begrudgingly sips on her water. you doubt she even notices your presence, using the accidental peace as time to really take in her side profile. she’s stunning, in her own, amazonian sort of way. especially now in the hazy golden light of the lounge, the sweaty blonde strands framing her face made her appear in rather close resemblance to a goddess of some type. and all you wanted was to worship her in that manner, treat her body as your temple and such. perhaps the alcohol really was getting to you.
“what’s got you all pouty, anderson? your little boyfriend not doing you any good?”
it’s so comical, the effect your presence has on abby. her head jerks your way at the first breath of your words, and her pinning gaze blows away any of the fog clouding either of your minds.
her demeanor hardens instantly, as she crosses her arms defensively. “fuck off,” is all she manages to spit out.
you take it as an invitation to continue. “like,” you scoff, “there’s no way he knows how to hit all the right spots. does he even try to? how’s his head game, abs?”
her look away speaks volumes.
“oh? god, what a dick.”
“he-“ she tries.
“-i could show you a good time,” you ramble, “i can assure you that i know how to hit all the right spots. your spots— i mean, only if you want me to.”
she gawks at you, her look half full of disbelief and half full of curiosity. and you can tell that you’ve got her hooked.
“i don’t need you,” she mutters, but a glance at her thighs pressed tight together says otherwise.
you smirk, placing your hand down that just so happens to land on her mid-thigh. her muscle jolts at your contact.
tentatively dragging your fingers higher, you speak lowly, stare locked, “you sure, baby?”
the wall comes crashing.
abby’s snatching your hand off her leg in a heartbeat and dragging you into the closest bathroom, shoving you against the door and pushing her lips against yours.
your tongue is dipping into her open mouth almost immediately, desperate to pull another one of her addicting whimpers out.
“shit,” abby curses in between gasps, before leaning back in to just consume more of you. her hands are searching for any part of you she can reach, grabbing at the meat at your hips, thighs, pressing your waist against hers with a groan.
the feel of your body against her own is so different from owens’, but so satisfying in a way she can’t wrap her head around. you fit into her frame like a puzzle piece, and your touches are needy and selfish, but they don’t feel offensive in the way that owen’s do.
you venture a hand under her shirt, tracing along the ridges of her toned stomach, and abby shudders, breaking your kiss to look down at your moving hand. she’s panting against your neck, heavier now, as you slide your hand up under her bra to cup her chest softly, rolling her hardened nipple between your fingers and watching hypnotically as she gasps into your skin.
with her head down at this angle, her neck is perfectly bared, and you can’t deny yourself a taste, can you? you’re sinking your teeth in before you realize it, soothing the marks with a wet lick over, only to tug the skin in between your teeth to suck at.
the quiet noises abby’s trying to muffle against your shoulder now are sending you into a frenzy, your hands now abandoning her breasts to pull her hips closer against yours.
abby nearly cries at the loss of your direct touches, but stops when your fingers return a place far more rewarding. you’ve unbuttoned her jeans now, your hand cupping her over her boxers teasingly, digits pressing over the damp spot in the fabric.
“bet you’ve never been this wet for owen,” you laugh, running a finger over her soaked core.
“don’t bring him up right now,” she pants in return, hips keening to your touch as she grabs your face to press into a sloppy kiss.
you push her boxers down eagerly, teasing two fingers by her leaking entrance to gather her slick.
god, abby gasps, and it seems to be the winning word of the night when she repeats it as she watches you stuff those same two fingers into your own mouth, and again when you stuff them straight into her pussy.
her pretty eyes are rolling back into her skull farther with every thrust against her gummy walls. “look at me while i fuck you dumb on my fingers, abs, look at me,” you beg.
“i c-can’t,” she whines, blushing a deep red and burrowing her face into your shoulder.
you slow your pumps, using your free hand to grab her by the braid and force her look at you. “awh,” you coo, pouting mockingly at her gaped mouth, “cute.”
your fingers buried as deep into her as physically possible, you curl them to hit that sensitive spot you genuinely believe has never even been touched once. and with the way abby lets out her loudest moan yet, you cannot believe otherwise.
“there it is,” you murmur, massaging your fingertips agonizingly slow inside of her, “see what you’re missing out on?”
her only response is a strangled whimper. baby blue eyes big and pleading as they threaten to roll back with every slight movement.
mhm, you goad her on, “that’s your g-spot, baby, feels real good, huh?”
she nods her head vigorously, quiet mhmmhmhm’s trailing out from her bitten lips.
“now if your little boyfriend’s dick is too small to reach it, i guess he can’t help it,” you laugh. “shame, you make such pretty noises when i touch you here,” you let out an exaggerated sigh, picking up your pace abruptly to slam into her spot over and over.
abby’s nearly gone cross-eyed, tossing her head back now as her pussy throbs almost rhythmically with every thrust. she’s never felt so filled to the brim, so overwhelmed with pleasure, and she’s too blissed out to even care about the stupid fucking smirk you’ve got plastered on your face.
“but his mini- dick is no excuse for not touching you here,” you continue, letting loose of her hair to finally touch her poor, neglected, pink clit, rubbing circles harshly into the button.
abby’s heart nearly jumps out of her chest. she’s moaning nonstop and swearing like a fucking sailor, the combination of your actions almost too much for her to physically bear. after a particularly loud oh god, fuck-please, you have no choice but to stuff abby’s mouth full with the bottom of her shirt. and fuck, was that the right move; the way her ab muscles flex and tighten as she nears her release, glistening with sweat, is enough to make you let out a groan of your own.
“‘m- close,” abby cries around the fabric, hips rocking with your motions as she begins to ride out her high.
“there you go anderson, you got it,” you mutter, circling her swollen clit faster now as you fuck into her g-spot repeatedly.
mmmmph is all you can make out, as abby’s walls clamp down around your curled fingers and she digs her nails into your sides, eyes squeezing shut.
her jerking movements eventually slow along with your own, half lidded eyes staring as you slip your cum-coated fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. the moistened fabric falls from abby’s open jaw as she attempts to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
before you know it, she’s tugging up her soaked boxers and jeans, shoving past you as she buttons them up and promptly bolts out of that bathroom.
well, that was one way to deal with the tension.
she’ll come running back to you before she knows it.
yikes! i just read that over and yikes! lol uh! sorry guys i’m out of practice!! we love abby anderson though and pray that she gets over her internalized homophobia. she’s too sexy for allat.
send me more reqs!! not that i need any more but send ‘em!
2K notes · View notes
jaylver · 5 months
Text
WEBS OF HURT — S.JY
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synopsis: Falling for your best friend wasn't on your check list for high school. As if that wasn't enough to break your heart, his odd behaviour only added fuel to the fire along with a new crush of his. Who knew that odd behaviour would soon turn into a secret truth that you'd discover after his valiant effort of hiding.
pairings: spiderman!jake x afab!reader
genre: best friends to lovers, unrequited love, miscommunications, spiderman au, angst, romance, fluff
warning(s): profanities, mentions of alcohol, party, violence, injury
wc: 10k
a/n: tried something new! a little birthday gift from me <3 please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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Falling in love with your guy best friend was probably the worst thing ever to experience when it came to girlhood.
High school should be fun, right? Being a teenager should be fun, right? Well, that wasn't exactly the case when you found yourself feeling more than just a mere liking towards Jake Sim, the guy best friend you mentioned and was entirely, love sickeningly, in love with. 
Jake Sim was the first guy you actually built a solid friendship with. It first started when he sat beside you in calculus, then you realised you had more classes with him and a friendship eventually developed when you started acknowledging each other. One class together soon turned into years spent with one another. You knew his family and he knew yours. Nothing could ever break the bond between you and him.
You just couldn't help but notice a slight change in him after the death of his uncle, Ben. At first, you figured it might've been grief, trying your best to offer your utmost support. But as months flew by, the oddness persisted. He would disappear in between classes, sometimes standing you up at places you were at together and returning a little scathed, making it up to you by promising for a redo hang out. All of that was weird. Let's not get started on the fact he caught your stuff falling way too many times, even when his head was faced away, his hand would reach out first. In his words, he called it his 'spidey sense', whatever that meant.
However, you never doubted him. He was still the best friend you had, even if he had some tweaks to him. You never once questioned him or brought up your suspicions, but this time, you couldn't help yourself from bombarding him with questions when he broke the news to you.
"I think I have a crush," Jake announced the moment he was in your presence, sounding a little out of breath considering he made a run to the cafeteria. The tray of food was untouched, quite unlike him since he always dug into his food first.
"You 'think'?" You hummed, ignoring the mixed feelings you had blaring loudly. 
"Okay, I know I have a crush," he has yet to start eating, just staring expectantly at you, eyebrows furrowed at the nonchalant and dismissiveness in your tone. 
"You're being for real?" You finally turned your head to meet his eyes, placing your fork down. 
"I am! I think it's kinda crazy," his eyes twinkled, something quite rare but only you knew, like a comet in the sky. 
"Who is it?"
"Gwen,"
"Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" You swallowed back a frown that was itching to make its way to your lips, masking it with your best shot of shock instead of disappointment. Of course it was the golden girl, what a cliche plot.
He nodded, a small smile rested on his face as he started digging into his food. "We … talked? Talked about some science things, about Oscorp, about the things she's working on. Oh yeah, she said there's this party on Saturday and wondered if I wanted to go, I said I wanted to bring a friend and she's cool with it,"
"I assume I'm that friend, then?" You poked at your food, suddenly losing your appetite as the conversation progressed.
"No, it's Carlos—of course it's you, dumbass," he flicked at your forehead, earning a firm scowl from you. "You're my best friend, my only ever, I'd be insane to think otherwise,"
You chewed at your lips, not because you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go, but it was mainly due to the word 'best friend' that got your attention. There goes your hope down the drain. First, being told your best friend who you have a crush on already has his eyes on someone else, then, getting friendzoned by that same exact guy, all in one shot. It's brutal out here.
"So what do you say?" Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, noticing your dazed expression. You snapped out of it almost immediately.
"I'll go,"
"Really?"
"Do you want me to say no instead …?" You raised an eyebrow, watching him scrambling at your words.
"N–no! I'm just shocked and very glad you agreed to come," he managed a laugh, which turned into a smile. 
"Am I going to get ditched that night because you want to get your dick wet?"
Jake scrunched his face up in a look of disgust. "Can you not? I don't need you to say that. And no, I'm not going to ditch you,"
"I'm holding you to it."
Jake shot you a wink, earning a figuratively loud eye roll from you. His laughter filled your ears, and though you managed a smile, you found yourself feeling the opposite internally. You knew you shouldn't feel this way, it's not like you were even in a relationship with him in the first place. But God, why did it hurt so bad?
Who told you friends to lovers was cool when it was unrequited and one sided all along.
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"You know, you look good either way,"
Jake Sim was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you put on makeup and getting ready. It was a few hours before the party and Jake had turned up looking nervous, wearing that lucky graphic tee of his that you recognised quickly. Your teasing definitely didn't make him smile, and you soon realised that the crush he had was actually serious.
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow despite feeling the giddiness from the effects of his nonchalant words. He has to stop that. "Are you trying to butter me up to get me to move quicker?"
"Whaaat? No way. You genuinely look good whether or not you have makeup on, seriously," he was genuine, you could tell, but you knew him better than anything. It was quite a fatal flaw.
"Give me ten minutes to finish the other eye then we can leave."
At that, Jake sighed in relief and fell back onto your bed, kicking his legs patiently. He couldn't stop talking about the party and the people who'd be there, but honestly, you could tell he was just trying to not bring up Gwen at any given moment. Knowing that, you wished the mascara wand would just poke into your eye, maybe it'd hurt less compared to how your heart felt.
"Does my shirt look lame—"
"Dude, shut up," just before you and Jake entered the house, he was asking for another reassurance. First, it was his hair, then his shoes, and every other piece of clothing, leaving his shirt for last. It took everything in you to not punch him along the way there. "I swear, no one will care. If anything, isn't that your lucky shirt?"
"It is my lucky shirt. But whether or not that lucky shirt looks good, that's the case," he glanced down at his graphic shirt, a picture of a rock band from the 2000s staring back at him.
"Trust me, if it's ugly, I would've asked you to change, now shut up and get your ass in there before I leave you here," you huffed and continued walking, hearing him mutter something before catching up with you. 
Upon entering the house, you figured it was as underwhelming as you expected. The smell of sweat and flavoured smoke filled the air, high school students lingered around as the music blasted. You should've probably stayed home.
"So, you got your pick up lines ready?" You thrusted a cup of fruit punch into his hands, tilting your head in question. 
Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Google has failed me on that one," he looked around the room, shoulders tense.
"Calm down, big guy. You're acting like you're being hunted down. She's not that scary," you patted his shoulders as he took a swig out of his cup.
"Not scary? Says the one without a crush,"
How ironic.
You brushed it off, finding yourself taking a big gulp as well. He was oblivious and you were just stupid. Stupidly in love with your best friend who has his eyes set on another girl. Perfect.
"I think I see her," you followed his line of sight, spotting a blonde in the midst of the crowd almost immediately. She made her way through, parting the mass with a certain grace to her aura. 
Jake looked back at you, a mix of conflict written in his features. You read him well, too well. You offered a smile. "Go, go talk to her. Just text me when you're leaving, okay? You said you're not going to ditch me,"
"I won't," he laughed, but there was a certainty in his tone. 
"Then go, what are you waiting for? I'm expecting a whole loads of information by the end of the night," you gave him a slight push, but you could see the small reluctance he had. "Go!" Off he went into the crowds and gravitated towards her. 
You couldn't bear to witness it all, watching him leaning down as she laughed into his ear. The feeling of bitter jealously coursed through your veins, it was evil, so evil, but you couldn't help it. At the end, you had to remind yourself, he wasn't yours in the first place. He wasn't yours to lose.
Turning your back to them, you sat alone in a stranger's kitchen and fought off the temptation of getting drunk. Instead, you indulged in the leftover pizzas left on the counter, letting a random girl join you and overshare secrets. Wallowing in self pity was probably not what you had in store for the night.
Almost as fast as you had arrived, it was already past midnight in a blink of an eye. You realised your curfew was around the corner and it was time to signal Jake to leave too. Glancing at your phone, you were surprised to see zero messages from your best friend. Weird.
You stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing a bunch of people passed out at the oddest spots, only a few still awake. One of them was surprisingly Gwen, the goody two shoes you had in mind was actually staying up past your curfew. You heaved a distressed yet exasperated sigh, walking towards her. 
"Hey, Gwen," you hoped she remembered you, considering you were in the same Chemistry class as her.
"Oh, hey. Y/N, right?" She flashed you a sweet smile, and it was painful to know how likeable and nice she was. You couldn't even bring yourself to hate her. 
"Right. Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen Jake around? The last time I saw him was with you," you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, taking the frown on her lips as a bad sign.
"He left," that was the least expected thing you anticipated as a response.
"He … left?" You repeated incredulously, almost as if she hadn't made it clear enough for you.
"Yeah, he suddenly said he needed to leave … in the middle of our conversation. An emergency or something. Kinda weird but kinda cute," she laughed, but you were holding back a disdainful scowl, reserved for both Jake and her, but most specifically Jake Sim. "Why? Were you with him?"
You bit back an immediate reply. As much as you wanted to say 'yes', you didn't want to blow off his chance either. "No, just … checking. He said he was coming tonight,"
"Oh, I see," 
"Yeah," you nodded rather stiffly and awkwardly. "I'll get going now, thanks,"
"See ya, Y/N. Until our next class," she gave you a salute, a melodious laugh escaping her lips.
You couldn't resist a smile either, saluting her back. There was a charm to her that affected people, it was understandable that Jake was charmed, but you hated to know that, and you did not want to understand it. For now, he was dead to you, just like how he has left you to yourself in the middle of a party at midnight. Was he Cinderella? Glad to know you weren't the only one who he pulled the disappearing act on. 
Clutching onto your jacket tight, you cursed every cuss words there were under your breath, all of which were dedicated to Jake. He had the audacity to leave without even leaving you a text, and that got you walking home in the dangerous night of New York City. Thanks a fucking lot. To say you were seething was an understatement.
You hated the streets of New York especially at night. To prove your hatred further, you just had to be at threat of an armed robbery there and then. 
"Hey! You there!" A dark figure approached from a distance, pointing at you. Oh God. "Got some money on you?" This couldn't be happening. 
"N–no," you said quietly, backing up quickly. His footsteps thundered loudly against the pavement, seemingly getting closer. 
"Don't lie, I see that purse on you,"
"I'm a broke high school student, leave me alone!" Was it sad to say that you were yelling the brutal truth to him?
"I don't care. Give me your purse—" his threat almost had you running in the opposite direction, but his sentence was never finished. Instead, a sharp unfamiliar noise shot through the silence, and a second figure in the distance appeared. That wasn't his partner, right?
Panic coursed through you, and yelling out was most likely the worst idea you had in ages. "Hello?" 
Silence. 
"Hello? Can I leave now?" 
"Yeah, you can," the figure walked under the lamp post, revealing himself. 
Spiderman? 
Clad in red and a mask over his head, he stepped towards you ever so casually, whereas you stood there absolutely stunned to even move. It wasn't an everyday occurance where you could personally meet the hero in flesh. The media might've painted him as some criminal, but to you and many other citizens, you knew that wasn't the truth.
"Spiderman," you greeted, anxiety lowered knowing you weren't getting robbed now. "Thanks for—that," you waved in the direction of where the man originally was.
"No worries," you noticed his voice seemed familiar, but before you could think more about it, he spoke with a sudden deeper octave. "It's—uh—not safe out here. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, for starters, my friend left me at a party that we were supposed to leave together without telling me, and now I'm walking home alone, until I almost got robbed," it was clear that anger and bitterness laced your voice, a deep frown etched on your face as you told Spiderman your concerns.
"Sorry," his voice became lighter, somehow sincere, which made you tilt your head in question. "I–I mean, sorry that he did that to you," he cleared his throat, straightening his spine and returning back to that deep voice. 
"I don't know what's up with him. He could've left me a text," 
He muttered something inaudible under his breath, then turned his focus back on you. "I'm sure he's very sorry, and maybe he's got a reason too. Try hearing him out,"
"I will. I always do. I'm just hurt, it's complicated," 
"What? What do you mean complicated?"
You shrugged, hugging your purse close to your chest. "It's nothing. I don't think Spiderman will be interested in my matters with my best friend. I'll leave you to your hero stuff and head home now. Thanks for saving me and the 20 dollars in my wallet,"
"Well—I—wait," before you could fully turn around and leave, his hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me walk you home. It's not safe,"
"Wouldn't it be weird if I turned up at my apartment lobby with Spiderman?" You crossed your arm, making quite a fair point. 
"You're right. What about I give you a swing?"
"What?"
Swinging around New York City was definitely an unforgettable but scary experience. You clung onto Spiderman, screaming like a madwoman as he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The touch was as familiar as his voice, hard to put a finger on but almost feeling like you've known him for years. 
You were about to point out your apartment but he had already beat you to it, not even needing you to tell you which floor or window it was, landing on the fire escape right in front of your bedroom window. That just further proved your familiarity towards him. 
He pulled your window open, signalling you to head in, but you were stuck staring at him, both in shock from the swing and the way he knew your place. 
"How did you—"
"Bye! Goodnight!"
You watched as he avoided your question and shot a web out to swing to some other building, leaving you stunned. How were you going to recover from this?
10/10 experience. Spiderman might just be your casual crush to get away from the thoughts of Jake. 
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'BREAKING NEWS: bank robbery in downtown last night caused a chaotic and frantic disturbance, luckily, Spiderman was there to save the day and catch the robbers before anything major happened. Is he really as bad as they make him to be?'
The news of Spiderman saving a bank from a robbery right before your personal near robbery experience had you amused. The videos of him beating up the robbers and using his webs to tie them up were going viral all over the internet, even people in school were talking about it.
You were standing at your locker, digging for some textbooks before class started when Jake Sim himself appeared beside you. His presence was announced before he even spoke, but you didn't bother to spare him a glance.
"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night," he was heaving in breaths, as if he had ran across the school to find you, maybe he did.
"Oh, were you?" You clicked your tongue, suddenly finding the random piece of paper in your locker fascinating. 
"I am. Seriously, Y/N. I know I'm an asshole for that, I'm sorry for not texting you earlier and letting you know—"
"Jake, this isn't the first time you bailed on me," you cut him off, slamming your locker door close and turning to face him. The bruise beside his right eye caught your attention, and suddenly, your anger seemed to have sizzled away. "What the hell happened to your eye?"
It has become a common practice by now apparently. Jake disappearing and turning up with some kind of injury. Like always, he just brushed you off. "It's nothing, don't worry. It's not about me, it's about you. I fucked up this time and I know it, I'm sorry. An emergency with Aunt May came up a–and I had to go home early, I was too caught up in the moment to let you know. I'm sorry, really,"
You considered his apology for a moment. He was sincere, you knew that, but there was a certain dishonesty to his explanation. However, you didn't want to press on further either. "I understand. You probably always have a reason, it's just that I hate it when you disappear on me without telling me. I almost got robbed last night!"
It took him almost a few seconds to register, then another few more to compute a reaction. "What? Are you okay?"
"I'm standing here, aren't I? Spiderman saved my ass," 
"Spiderman?"
"Yeah, Spiderman. That guy who swings around New York. He saved me from some guy that was about rob me, because someone over here decided to leave early,"
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just glad you're alright," 
"Well, thank fuck I am," you crossed your arms, staring pointedly at Jake. 
He dug something out of his backpack, a paper bag of some sort materialized in his hand. "I got you some of your favourite cookies and donuts. As a form of apology,"
You took the bag from him, glancing between him and it. "You can't just buy your way into an apology,"
"You accepted it, you took the bag," 
You rolled your eyes, unable to bite back. "Whatever," you reached in for a cookie and started walking away from your locker, hearing Jake scurrying to join your side.
"So, we're cool?"
You took a brief glance at him, taking a bite out of your cookie. "We are,"
Jake wasn't fully convinced, however. He knew you and your patterns, and he definitely knew which tricks to pull to make it better. "How about I treat you to some Chinese food tonight?"
That piqued your interest, an eyebrow raised at his question. "The one downtown?"
"That one,"
"You sure know how to get on my good side, Sim," you nudged his side, falling into one of his tricks once again. "Too well,"
"I know my ways to get to your heart, don't underestimate me," he said in a lighthearted tone, but God, you wished he would actually find his way into your heart. "Anyway, how was—uh—Spiderman, last night? Excusing your near robbery experience," he winced at the last part, though in reality, the accident hadn't shaken you as much as he had thought.
"He was nice! A little awkward but I kinda get it. He swung me back to my place, which was weird because he knew which window and level it was," you pursed your lips in deep thought, failed to realise the widened eyes from Jake and the panic that filled them.
"M–maybe, it was a wild guess," he said shakily.
"Wild guess? Don't bullshit me, Sim. A smart guy like you would know it's hard to do so," you waved him off, continuing to venture into your theories.
"Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense," he laughed rather stiffly, earning a suspicious narrowed stare from you. 
"Okay, big head, quit acting so weird. Let's just get calculus over with and then stop by that ice cream place after school, what do you say?" 
Jake's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sense of relief overtook his features. What was that about? "Sure. My treat,"
"God, Sim, you have to stop treating me or else I'll fall in love with you," you joked, even as it came out lighthearted, it was filled with a painful truth that you kept as a secret.
"Then fall in love with me."
You froze, almost unblinking. Something so intimate yet controversial had left his lips like it was nothing. It was probably nothing to him, maybe a mere joke even, considering how he let out a small laugh and smiled at your reaction. You tried to pretend it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing, not to you. 
For a second, you wished you weren't already in love with Jake.
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Trying to be happy for your best friend shouldn't be hard, but why were you struggling with it so much?
First, you were literally in love with him. Yes, you've come to the conclusion that you 'L' word him, the big 'L'. Seeing him list out the things Gwen likes and hates reminded you of yourself knowing him equally that much too, which only pained you more than it reassured you. Second, he has been hanging out with her more. Not that you were completely friendless and have no one to hang with, but Jake was Jake, he was your best friend, and losing your best friend was the worst thing to happen. 
You didn't lose him, no, but it felt like you had. He barely made time for you, being caught up with Gwen, dates and school work, how could he not manage to squeeze you in there? You've always made time for him no matter what the occasion was, so knowing he didn't do the same for you just had you dying internally. 
It was a quiet evening in New York. The sun had just set and you were walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone. This time around, you were smarter than the previous round. Armed with pepper spray and a pocket knife, you prayed on a shooting star that an unfortunate incident would never ever happen once more. 
You were practically in your own world to even realise or hear footsteps approaching you from behind. By the time you did, your fight or flight mode was activated, almost throwing out a punch, just to freeze upon figuring out who it actually was. Spiderman.
"Walking home alone?" He kept up with your pace as you recovered from a momentary fright.
"Stalking me?" You wondered how he even spotted you in the first place. In the big city of New York, he's coincidentally strolling down the same street as you? As if. "Scared me, you know? Thought it was another round of getting robbed,"
"I'd be there to fight them off if that happens," he said with utmost confidence that it had you laughing a little, shaking your head in disbelief. Why did he remind you of Jake? It's a sign you should stop thinking so much about him.
"Really? I kinda doubt it. Unless you're keeping an eye on me or something, stalker," you teased him, egging him on further. 
"I'm not stalking you," his tone gave away the withering confidence of his. You smiled, feeling his lingering gaze on your face. Maybe it was just your mind that's overthinking, but his mannerisms reminded you too much of your best friend. It was in the way he walked, talked and how he normally did this thing where he walked with you and cast glances at you from time to time. Every little detail that you wished you couldn't list out was a part of the city's hero. 
He cleared his throat, straightening his back, trying to rebuild that confidence he originally carried. "So … how are things between you and your friend?"
"The one that stood me up at the party?"
He choked a little, but regardless, he nodded his head. "Y–yeah,"
You couldn't hold in a sigh from escaping your lips. Just thinking about Jake had you huffing in frustration. Spiderman picked up on it, shifting slightly beside you. "I guess not … good? Haven't seen him much and he hasn't been bothering to hang out with me anymore. I mean, I get he's making moves but why can't he just manage a little time for me? Maybe I'm too selfish but—" he's not mine anyway. You bite your tongue, holding back what you really wanted to say. 
The hero beside you was silent for a bit, as if walking on eggshells and picking the best words to say. "I think he'd come around," he said slowly, "he'd say a couple of sorrys, and you should tell him what's on your mind. Let him know. He'll understand," 
You chewed on your bottom lips, considering the possibilities, but totally also not expecting to get advice from the Spiderman like it was some counselling session. "I know he'll listen. He always does. But I don't want anything to change between us,"
"Nothing will change," he said with a kind of certainty that even you didn't doubt. How did he know? Who was he to judge? You didn't say anything, but just nodded. You knew Jake wasn't the type to argue nor take your words lightly, but you shudder at the thought of a confrontation, not that it was your first with him, but it felt much more emotional this time.
"I hope so. I miss him—oh, my place is around the corner, I can manage myself," you stopped before a turn around the corner, Spiderman following suit. 
Standing before him only increased your curiosity about his identity. Who was he? He was hiding under a mask that shielded his face, but something about him seemed less foreign than expected. 
"O–oh, then I guess I should get away too. Swing around the city and see whose ass to beat," he laughed awkwardly, a hand automatically reaching for the back of his neck, just like something Jake would do too. You shook that thought away. "Goodnight … stranger,"
"It's Y/N," you didn't hesitate to tell him your name, he saved your life, a little information about yourself wouldn't hurt despite him being a total stranger still. "Goodnight, spider boy."
You turned around the corner, leaving the hero standing there, bewildered and helpless. It was hard to ignore the pit in your stomach that carved deeper and deeper. He reminded you too much of your best friend, and strangely, that was probably the reason why you felt gradually attached to him, a stranger that resembled the ghost of a guy you liked but couldn't have. 
The space of your apartment was dark and soulless once you stepped into it. Your parents worked late as always, meaning you were alone most of the time, and this was one of them. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the countless wishful thinking, but a sense of despair knocked on the door of your heart. 
By the end of the night, you laid awake in bed thinking about what Spiderman had said. Nothing will change. That was exactly what you wished for too, that your dynamic with Jake was never to change, but how was that to happen when he's got a girl around? Eventually, you're not just going to lose the guy you loved, but your best friend as a whole.
Your train wreck of thoughts were interrupted the moment you heard a knock on your window. That knock turned into a tune that you knew too well. Sitting up straight in bed, you spotted the figure standing by your window out on the fire escape. Jake. 
At this point, you weren't even going to figure out how he got up this high on the fire escape. It was one too many times of him avoiding your question and you ended up dropping the matter too. Yet, curiosity itched your mind. 
Unamused at the fact that he turned up at possibly the wrong timing, you dragged your legs over to the window, meeting his bashful gaze. He offered a crooked grin, but your narrowed eyes only shot it back into a frown.
"Explain to me why you're here? It's midnight, Aunt May would be worried about you," your window was opened now, but you stood in the way before he could climb through, an interrogative look of yours stared at him accusingly.
"I told her I'd be over at yours," he answered cheekily. "Just like the old times, eh?"
Judging from your unbudging stance and eyes practically shooting lazers, Jake knew he had struck a nerve that have been left untreated for far too long. He sighed a defeated breath, squeezing through forcefully and dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
"I know," he didn't need to say much, yet he conveyed more than needed. "I've been a shitty best friend,"
It was your turn to sigh. You shook your head, averted your gaze to the ground and stepped aside, giving him more space. "You know a 'sorry' alone won't cut it this time,"
He followed your every movement, joining you to sit on the edge of your bed, a small space in between separated you and him. "I know. But I really am sorry, Y/N. I mean it,"
"I just want you to be honest with me, Jake. I know you're busy, I know you're trying to get the girl of your dreams or whatever, good for you, but it feels like you've forgotten about me or something,"
"I didn't forget about you. How could I ever?"
"Well, then stop acting like it! A text would suffice," you stood up, back facing him just so you could hide your face from him and the tears welling up in your eyes. 
"Y/N," he grabbed a hold of your wrist, cold fingers wrapped around your skin, his touch ever so gentle. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up … many times, and a single 'sorry' wouldn't make up all the hurt I caused you, b–but there's a reason why,"
"What is it then?" You whirled around to face him, the dark of the room casted a shadow over his face, bringing out the fatigue and injury on his delicate features. "What the fuck, Jake? Are you hurt again?"
"It's nothing,"
"You said it's nothing every time you turned up hurt, and I never ask many questions, but Jake, it feels like you're hiding something from me," your hand reached up for his face, hovering over the bruises and mild cuts on his lips and skin. "I don't know you anymore,"
Jake moved his face away a little, grabbing that hand of yours which hovered over his face, lacing his fingers into yours, the rough surface of skin contrasting your soft touch. "I–I wish I could tell you what it is right now, Y/N, I really do, but it's not the right time. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me, I don't want to hurt you,"
There was a moment of silence where you stood before him, hands intertwined with his, your hurtful gaze scanning his every feature that you knew too well. Jake never lied to you, you knew that, but why couldn't you fully trust him this time? There was a sense of truth and lie hidden behind his words, but you knew one thing, he was genuine. Yet, it wasn't enough. 
"Let me make it up to you. There's this carnival in the city tomorrow night, you and I, hang out, what do you say?" He tried offering a smile, which eventually turned uncertain. "We can spend the entire day together. Just you and me,"
"No bailing on me this time?"
"Promise,"
"You do?"
He held up your interlocked hands, then intertwined your's and his pinky fingers together, something you and him always did when it came to serious promises despite the childishness to the whole pinky promises thing. "Promise," he repeated. 
"I believe you, Jake. I always do, and I just don't want you to get yourself in danger, whatever it is that you're doing. Whenever you turn up bruised and beaten, I–I just feel helpless, and you push me away every time,"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking your interlocked hands and placing them on his chest, near to where his heart resided. "I promise to tell you the truth soon. I just need to be ready,"
"When you're ready," you gave his hand an affirming squeeze, a reassuring smile creeping up onto your lips. "Do you want to stay over?"
"I didn't turn up with a packed bag for nothing," he laughed, the air lightening up much more compared to earlier. "I'll sleep on the ground like always,"
Once you were done manoeuvring and setting up the sleeping bag for Jake, you were finally in bed for the second time that night, except now, you had Jake sleeping on the ground beside your bed. It wasn't a rare occasion having him sleep over, just maybe this time it was a tad bit more awkward given the situation you had earlier. 
"Jake," you spoke into the darkness, your eyes trained on that one spot on your ceiling. 
He hummed back in response. 
"Nothing has changed between us, right?"
A beat of silence, the whirring of your A/C was what remained. Then, he spoke. "No. Nothing's ever going to change. Nothing will change," 
It sounded familiar, the way he said it and the enunciation he had in every word. You shook it off, given the late night and a mushy brain, you didn't give it a second thought. 
"I'm glad. Goodnight, Jake."
"Goodnight."
Despite the reassurance from Jake, you descended into sleep with a pit in your gut. You could barely sleep with him next to you, thinking you could find a cure to every trouble that existed between you and him to fix it all. How could he say there'd be no changes when there's a bigger crack forming on your heart?
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The next morning was like any other whenever Jake stayed over. An empty kitchen that allowed you to make some simple breakfast and after, you bid Jake goodbye for the moment before meeting him later on that day. 
Upon stepping into your room, you spotted a black lump sitting under the window. It was Jake's backpack. He was already long gone from your apartment by then. 
You advanced towards his backpack, held it up to move it somewhere else, but it only caused the contents inside to spill out. Knowing how clumsy Jake always was, you figured his backpack had been unzipped the entire time.
You glanced at the pile of mess littered on your floor, a clump of red catching your eyes amongst the rest. Curiosity got the best of you despite knowing you shouldn't pry, but the moment your fingers made contact with it, the question marks in your head increased by tenfold.
Spandex material. You pinched it at first, feeling the material against your skin, then you finally got the guts to hold it up entirely, revealing something far beyond expectations. 
Spiderman suit?
Was it a fake one? Jake could've always bought it from Amazon. You held it closer for inspection, noticing how it was worn out, slight tears on the bottoms. It couldn't be a fake, something in you knew. The dried blood stains on some spots gave it away. 
Everything made sense to you now. Jake being secretive, hiding the truth from you every time you asked, turning up hurt and disappearing at random times just for the news to report Spiderman's appearance after. All of them were finally connected in your head, and revelations about his suspiciousness were known by you.
It hit you. Jake was spiderman. Your best friend was that vigilante swinging around the city saving people and fighting crimes. He was the one who walked and swung you home. He always knew.
You let out a breath of disbelief, knees feeling weak and head spinning. How were you to shoulder the truth after this? Pretend like nothing's wrong when everything is wrong and weird. It was practically impossible to patch up the existing crack that continued to worsen. 
Shoving Jake's belongings back into the bag, you shouldered it and made your way to his place. Your mind was in a haze, the thought of him being Spiderman was hard to wrap around. Sometimes ignorance was genuinely bliss, you wished this was one of those times. 
You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Jake wasn't home when you turned up at his door, meeting a confused looking Aunt May instead. Apparently, Jake went out in search of his backpack that was currently in your hands, so you had no choice but to call him and wait for him to be back. 
How could you not have spotted it sooner? Now that you're in his bedroom for possibly the millionth time, everything seems clearer. The map of the city stuck on his wall which had random scribbles and locations circled in red marker ink stood out to you, the box of medicine and ointments sat on his bedside table that you frequently ignored. All the signs were presented before your eyes without your knowledge.
"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," Jake closed his bedroom door after almost half an hour of waiting for his appearance. His hair was dishevelled, clearly panicked and alarmed. 
"No, it's okay, we're supposed to meet up anyway," you sat up from lying on his bed, nodding at the backpack sitting on his desk. "Got your baby back,"
"Oh my God," he crossed the room with big steps and had zero hesitation when it came to unzipping it to check his belongings. "Did I leave it at your place?"
"You did," 
"Thought I left it out there somewhere," he murmured under his breath, then zipped the bag up. You knew why he was so secretive, and it made even more sense why he always brought it around. 
Jake most likely felt your wandering eyes on him judging from the way he spun around and shielded his bag from view, trying to divert your attention away. "Want to watch a movie?"
How could you possibly say no? That sly prick.
You didn't indulge in his suspicious behaviour further now that you were aware of his secret, though you pretended not to. He did say he would reveal it to you soon, but that 'soon' was quite unknown. At this point, you didn't know who was going to be the first one to reveal it. Either you or him.
You spent half of the day binging on movies, ate an early dinner and then walked to the carnival together. Along the way there, you couldn't stop yourself from taking quick glances at Jake. The street lights illuminated his features under the darkening sky, the loud chatter of the crowd drowned out and it was only him in your world. Even as he asked you questions, you blindly nodded to most of them. 
How could you not fall for him? He bought you drinks without question, won you prizes at those booths, held your hand as you walked through the crowds. It was as if Jake Sim himself was blind enough to not know what he was doing to you. 
"Enjoying the night?" Jake threw his arm around your shoulder ever so casually that it had you holding your breath for a minute.
"You won me a big bear, of course I am," you held onto the stuffed toy tightly, grinning at the memory of Jake winning during his first try. 
"What's next? Wanna stop by that art and craft booth then we go on the ferris wheel?" Jake definitely did know his way into your heart.
"Sounds good," 
You thought the night would eventually end with peace and quiet, but before it could even end, it had been ruined beyond belief. 
The big screen suddenly flashed to a news reporter, the background looking chaotic and people were fleeing. It was live news, the whole thing was happening as you breathed. You and Jake stood rooted, staring at the big screen just like many others did, listening in on the broadcast.
'Just in, a monstrous creature was seen terrorizing and climbing along the Oscorp building. It was spotted not long ago, but now it has disappeared into the building, its whereabouts unknown. Workers of Oscorp have fled the building, but not all of them, some were said to be present in the building until now.'
You glanced at Jake, a sinking feeling in your gut. It was a sour thought knowing he's about to get himself in danger yet again, but having him bailing once more cut deeper than a falling knife. As a human, you wanted him to save lives and the city. However, you were also his best friend, and you hated to be selfish, but you just wanted him to be there without having to leave every single moment.
The conflict in your eyes matched Jake's, who was evidently struggling with himself. You tried to mask it, yet hurt and sadness was hard to ignore or hide. 
"Oscorp … Gwen," the faint hush of a murmur was audible under his breath, causing you to cock your head at him.
"What?" 
"I–I, Y/N, I have an emergency," he removed his arm around you, the hold on his backpack strap tightened. 
"Jake," to scream at him? Let him leave? All of the above? You struggled with your emotions as you tried to understand and empathise, you always did, but couldn't you just have him this one time?
"I'm sorry …" his voice was weak, he knew how much pain and hurt he caused you, and retreating away from your disappointed face wasn't going to solve anything, just the problem downtown, but not the cracks that were forming right now.
"I know, Jake," you shouted when he was a distance away from you. He turned around, eyes widened and pupils blown, a mix of confusion and surprise painted his features. "I know about you,"
He was breathless, he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He left without a trace, and once again, you were left alone to fend for yourself. You wanted to understand, you do, but it was hard. 
You glanced at the big screen for one last time, uttering a silent curse under your breath, and decided to head to where the scene was. Crazy? Stupid? You were everything described. That was probably why you and Jake were best friends. 
Taking the cab was one of the stupidest decisions you made, and that excluded the part where you're literally bringing yourself to danger. Thanks to whatever that was terrorising the Oscorp building, the traffic was heavier than usual, so you had no choice but to run on foot. It was the most running you ever did all year.
You wondered if it was a good idea to even be there. Answer: no. The police cars were everywhere, all of which were stationed with police that were armed with rifles. A helicopter circled the building, several broadcasting stations and their reporters were present too. It was a mess. 
"What's happening here?" You were practically out of breath, panting, as you asked a random bystander there. 
"Some freakish lizard creature. I think Spiderman swung into the building to save the remaining victims. They were all rescued but Spiderman's still fighting in there,"
"You saw him? Spiderman?"
"I did! Red suit, white webs, he was so heroic when he crashed through the glass panels," 
"That's the one," you said unnervingly, disliking the uncertainty of it all. Jake was putting himself in danger and you could do nothing about it. How long did this go on for? You were left in the dark for far too long.
Soon, which almost felt like forever, you saw a speck of red escaping from the gap in the building with somebody in hand. You held your breath out of anxiety, heart thumping, listening in on all the noises and reports coming from everywhere around you.
"There he is! Spiderman!" A reporter appeared next to you, absolutely transfixed with the superhero slinging through the dark sky and eventually landing in the distance. "He has the last hostage in hand! A girl!" 
A girl?
You pushed past the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Spiderman and the entire scene before you. There he was, speaking to the police, but there was somebody else too. Gwen Stacy. 
An overwhelming feeling crashed down on you like a heavy weight of boulders falling from the sky. Confusion, hurt, heartbreak, altogether they penetrated you harder than you could manage to breathe. One step, two step, you took many steps back before turning away and hailing for a cab home. 
He wasn't yours, and he wasn't yours to lose either.
Returning home to an empty apartment was nothing new, except it did hit differently this time. Your heart was empty, mind in a haze, it was as if your narrator had drawn swirls over your head. You wished things had turned out in another way. You and Jake, how you found out about his secret, him hiding his secret. If only all of them had another ending than what you had in the present.
You sat slumped over in bed, the desk lamp was the only thing that provided light for the darkness in your room. The shadow looming over your window went unnoticed by you. That was until a series of knocks sounded and you jumped out of bed in alert, finding it strange how there was nothing once your eyes trained on your window.
Well, there goes your future. 
You stepped a little closer. Just then, the window was jerked open by some unseen force, a red cladded face peeking his head into frame. Spiderman, or more accurately, Jake, was standing on your fire escape again. 
He dropped his backpack onto your bedroom floor, letting himself in wordlessly. You stared at him, not knowing whether to speak first or let him be the one to do it. After all, he had left you hanging, it's the least he could do.
Jake pulled off the mask from his head, revealing a rather beat up face and messy, dishevelled hair that was coated with sweat. "You knew?"
His voice was tired, but the confusion and hurt punctuated through his words. He inched close to you, but you took a step back, unable to meet his gaze.
"Well, it wasn't a long time," you muttered. "Just today, actually … coincidentally,"
"How?" 
"Your backpack. I swear I didn't look through it, it was unzipped and when I picked it up, everything spilled out. Your suit revealed it all," you chewed at your bottom lip, Jake's eyes boring into yours, the prickling feeling of anxiety crawled all over your skin. "I didn't want to find out this way either,"
"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to, trust me, you're one of the closest people I have in my life. But I just didn't know when or how to break it to you. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe," he was equally guilty for hiding it for a long time, but you understood the reason behind it. Being a hero comes with a great responsibility, that was what movies taught you anyway. 
"Jake, I know, and it's okay, but I just wish to be selfish for a little. I want you to be here with me, to be there for me a–and be my best friend for a minute," you felt yourself losing the will to speak as seconds passed by. "I feel like I'm losing you,"
"You're not. I'm here," he pressed his palm against his heart, stepping closer until he was barely a few inches away. "Always,"
"I don't want to lose you, Jake," your voice wavered, a clear sheen of tears glazed your eyes. "I'm in love with you," your words came out in a whisper, a hushed confession that spilled with no warning, coming from the deepest, darkest pits of your heart. Even then, you couldn't believe you had actually said it, stilling in place and blinking in shock. 
Jake's breath hitched, his movements frozen. You wondered about the possible scenarios you were about to face, ones that you thought of whenever you had the urge to spill your love confession.  All of them certainly didn't prepare you for what was happening next.
"I'm sorry," shock turned into instant panic. Your hands shot out to create a small distance between you and him. "Ignore what I just said. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"
Jake didn't say much, and in a swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your hand, pulled you into him. One hand holding your wrist, the other cupping your face to tilt your head and his lips met yours.
You could barely register it. The weight of his mouth against yours created a mass of fireworks in both your head and stomach. The shock evaporated from your body and relief took its spot. You melted against his touch, leaning your body closer to his. 
Jake kissed you like no man could have ever done. He left a part of himself, imprinted his every unspoken word into a deep and passionate kiss. You wondered if this was what it felt like being loved by him.
Forever was what you wished for when it came to kissing him. Yet, it eventually came to an end just like every one of your favourite movies. This time, however, you weren't disappointed, you were glad. 
"Don't apologise. Y/N, I'm in love with you too," his hand on your cheek remained, the dim light managed to bring out the sparks in his pupils. It was your turn to be confused. Didn't he have a crush?  "I know what you're thinking. Gwen—" it's freaky how he always knew, "—I was kinda dumb, to be honest. I was always in love with you but it took me years and a girl to only realise that,
"She was nothing like you. The more I got to know her, the more I thought of you. I wasn't trying to like her, I was trying to find a piece of you in her. Being the coward that I am, I ran away from facing the thought of liking you, I didn't want to ruin our friendship. So, I kept on entertaining the thoughts of liking Gwen instead, but none of it was real. You're the one who's constantly taking up space in my mind, in my heart,"
The fireworks from earlier exploded ten folds in your mind. You couldn't believe you were experiencing every passing moment listening to Jake's confession. He felt the same way as you did for him. He has had the same pining for you like the same way you had for him. Years, years of unspoken romantic love for one another that both were too scared to touch upon. 
Jake took your shell shocked silence as an opportunity to continue on. "I'm sorry for standing you up all the time. I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner. But I love you, Y/N. You're my best friend, more than anything, you're the only person I want to have occupying my mind all the Goddamn time,"
"Jake," your hand travelled to place itself onto his which rested on your face. "I love you too," you laced your hand into his, the intimacy that would've been seen platonic days ago was now something more than that. You and him both felt the shift, it was apparent. 
"I don't care that you're Spiderman," you continued, not once breaking eye contact with him, letting him stare into yours as you did the same. "You're Jake to me, you forever will be, and that's all that matters,"
Jake's delicate features melted into a smile. His pretty smile that had you swooning was on display like a trophy, influencing you enough to crack a small grin too. He looped an arm around your waist, dipping you slightly and pressing a haste kiss on your lips, then your cheeks. 
"I guess I can now say I've swung into your heart," he teasingly sent a wink flying at you, to which you responded with an eye roll. Some things never changed, but his ego definitely was inflated now.
"Shut up before I kick you out," you threw a light punch at his shoulder, which he dodged almost unsuccessfully. "Come on, let's patch you up then we can go to bed," you patted his shoulder, walking towards your bathroom. 
"Demanding," he whistled under his breath, picking up his discarded mask from the floor. 
"Don't make me add a black eye to your face,"
"But you like my pretty face,"
"You want to test it out?"
"Okay, okay. I'm coming."
The night eventually ended with Jake being patched up and sleeping on your bed instead of his usual spot on the ground. These little changes was what you anticipated most, but other than that, it was safe to say nothing would be changing when it came to your and Jake's relationship. If anything, it was about to be stronger. 
So what if he was Spiderman? At least you knew Spiderman was yours, and he had indeed swung into your heart.
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Dating your best friend who had a secret identity was fun. 
You got to discuss maths in school and listen to his adventures after. Not to mention, he would swing you around New York City at times once the clock striked past midnight. No other girl was going to get a date like this. Ten out of ten, you may add. 
With the fun came the terror. You do fear for Jake's safety almost every time he's out, and it has become a routine to patch him up till the point where you had to restock your emergency kit. This time was like no other when Jake appeared through the window soundlessly in his Spiderman suit.
"Hey," he was breathless, tumbling over the window still. 
You jumped, not even realising his appearance. "What the hell? Jake? Oh my God," you got up right away to support his tired body, but he ended up sliding down onto the ground anyway.
"Are you injured anywhere? Bleeding?" You checked for his body, trying to spot any obvious cuts, making yourself comfortable in the space between his legs. 
"No," his hand reached for the end of his mask, pulling it up halfway only to reveal his lips. "Can I get a kiss?"
"Are you serious?"
"I am dead serious," 
You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips that eventually widened into a satisfied smile. You gently slapped his face, eliciting a sweet laugh from him and with a tug of his hand, he fully removed the mask from his head, revealing his pretty face that you missed.
"I got something for you," his hand reached out to brush your hair away from your face, his touch ever so gentle when it came to you. He dug something out of his bag, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers. "Ta-da," 
"Flowers?" You accepted the bouquet from him, noticing all of your favourite flowers in it. He remembered, even the littlest details about you, he remembered them all.
"I got them on the way here," you raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't steal them. I actually paid for them. They gave me a discount too because I was in my suit,"
You resisted a smile. "You're unbelievable,"
"Unbelievably cute? Romantic? Handsome?" He leaned in closer to you, noses close enough to brush against one another. 
"Go away," you squeezed his cheek, and he just let you do so without any fight. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him briefly. "I like them,"
"What about me?"
"I like you too,"
 "But I like you more," 
You threw your head back laughing, a simple sound which was enough to have Jake's heart racing. "We're not making this into a competition, stupid. Now, go shower or else you're not sleeping on my bed,"
"But—"
"Nope. Shower or get exiled,"
"Fine," he dragged his body up sluggishly, looking almost like a puppy being forced to his dismay: the shower. "You're not joining me?"
"Don't make me chase you out." you threw a pillow at him that he skillfully dodged. Damn his spider senses. His laughter echoed around your bedroom until he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of it gave comfort to you and your beating heart.
Things might've changed a little in different aspects, but you knew nothing could change you or Jake altogether. He was your best friend and lover no matter what he was. Spiderman or loverboy, he was everything to you. All you knew was that he was going to be by your side no matter what, protecting your heart alongside the city. 
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steveslevis · 5 months
Text
i love you, it’s ruining my life
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azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate. 
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word. 
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you. 
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction. 
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him. 
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be. 
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment. 
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond. 
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer. 
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him. 
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well. 
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them. 
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction. 
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice. 
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you. 
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings. 
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond. 
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience. 
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well. 
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this. 
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face. 
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.” 
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you. 
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words. 
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
——————————————————————
That was almost two years ago. 
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through. 
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on. 
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone. 
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.” 
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand. 
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking. 
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered. 
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade. 
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.” 
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now. 
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond. 
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him. 
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died. 
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind. 
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs. 
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times. 
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.” 
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved. 
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands. 
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart. 
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him. 
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened. 
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate. 
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel. 
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope. 
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel. 
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go. 
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle
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mrsfancyferrari · 2 months
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Hiyaaa! I really loved your story about Lando (also love how lengthy it was)!
I was wondering if you could write a best friends to lovers story with Lando where the reader thinks she isn’t Lando’s type (like maybe he prefers blondes and model types but reader isn’t). A bit of angst but hopefully a happy ending.
No worries if you say no though. Thank you!!
My Type
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Anon: I was wondering if you could write a best friends to lovers story with Lando where the reader thinks she isn’t Lando’s type (like maybe he prefers blondes and model types but reader isn’t). A bit of angst but hopefully a happy ending.
Song: Friends by Chase Atlantic
Author’s note: Sorry it took so long! Writer's block is a real thing! I had to make it just for you first. Also I haven't a clue about how the process of modelling works so bare with me. Please like, reblog and share this! <3
Word count: 19.6k
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The Belgian Grand Prix is one of the most prestigious races in the Formula 1 calendar, known for its challenging track and unpredictable weather. Winning this race is a significant accomplishment for any driver, marking a high point in their career.
Lando's victory at such a renowned event was a testament to his skill and dedication, making the celebration all the more special.
You stood at the edge of the crowded party, your dark hair cascading down your shoulders as you watched Lando, your long-time best friend, bask in the glory of his first-place finish at the Belgian Grand Prix.
The air was filled with excitement and anticipation as everyone celebrated his success.
As the night progressed, you could feel the weight of jealousy settling deep within your heart.
Lando, not just content with his victory on the track, had taken up the role of DJ for the night, surrounded by some of his closest friends. The upbeat music he played matched the electric atmosphere, drawing cheers and applause from everyone in the room.
You watched as he seamlessly transitioned between tracks, his infectious energy captivating the crowd. Each song seemed to elevate the party's spirit, and yet, with every beat, you felt the pang of envy grow stronger.
You had always been proud of Lando's accomplishments, but tonight, the spotlight felt blinding. It wasn't just his victory; it was the way he commanded the room, the way everyone gravitated towards him.
You tried to shake off the feeling, forcing a smile whenever he glanced your way. But the gnawing sense of being overshadowed was hard to ignore.
As the night wore on, you found yourself torn between celebrating your best friend's success and confronting the uncomfortable emotions swirling within you.
You watched as Lando, known for his preference for blondes and model types, engaged in lively conversations with two stunning girls with golden locks and perfectly sculpted bodies.
Their laughter and carefree demeanor made you envy them, as you couldn't help but wonder if Lando would ever see you in the same light.
Unable to bear the sight of Lando being fawned over by girls you felt you weren't his type, you decided to call it a night and leave the party early.
The ache in your heart was overwhelming, and you needed some time to clear your head.
As you stepped outside into the cool night air, you couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and disappointment.
You had cherished the friendship you had built with Lando over the years, but deep down, you always held a secret hope that there might be something more.
Once you arrived home, you slipped out of your party dress and changed into comfortable pajamas, feeling the soft fabric soothe your skin. You wiped off your makeup, each stroke of the cotton pad removing the remnants of the night's emotions.
As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but wonder if you were destined to always be just a friend in Lando's eyes.
Curling up on the couch with a blanket, you let out a deep sigh, trying to shake off the melancholy that had settled over you. Your phone buzzed with notifications from the party, but you ignored them, wanting to detach from the world for a while.
Despite the inner turmoil, a small part of you still held onto the hope that one day, Lando might see you differently, and until then, you had to find a way to be content with the bond you already shared.
Perhaps, you thought, the next time you and Lando had a quiet moment together, you could share a heartfelt memory from your past that highlighted how much his friendship meant to you. You could let him know how grateful you were for the support and trust you had built over the years, and subtly hint at how your feelings had grown deeper.
Maybe then, he would begin to see you in a different light.
An hour later, there was a soft knock on the door. Expecting it to be one of the girls from earlier, you were pleasantly surprised to see Lando and Carlos standing on the other side. Carlos warm smile instantly lifted your spirits, and a wave of relief washed over you.
"Hey, there you are! Lando wouldn't stop whining if I didn't find you," Carlos said, his voice filled with concern.
Lando had been clinging to Carlos, his eyes drifting around until they landed on you. The moment his gaze met yours, a mixture of relief and something unspoken flickered across his face.
"I was worried about you," he admitted quietly, stepping closer as Carlos gave him a gentle nudge forward.
As Lando stepped closer, your eyes met, and in that moment, everything seemed to shift. The spark that had been dormant for so long ignited, and you found yourself caught up in the intensity of his gaze.
Without hesitation, Lando closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His touch sent shivers down your spine, filling you with a warmth that you had never known before.
"Looks like my job here is done, goodnight guys," Carlos said, closing the door softly behind him, a knowing smile playing on his lips. You could hear his footsteps fade away, leaving you and Lando in a bubble of privacy.
Lando's arms tightened around you, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.
"Why did you leave?" Lando asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his forehead resting against yours.
You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the torrent of emotions that had driven you away. "I just… I didn't think you would notice," you confessed.
Lando pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "I've always noticed you," he said softly, his gaze never wavering. "I don't want anyone else. Just you."
"Lando…" you muttered, "you're drunk, you don't mean that." His grip on you tightened as he shook his head, determination etched across his face.
"I'm not drunk enough to lie about this," he insisted, his voice steady despite the swirling emotions between you.
"Come on, Lando, let's go lie down," you said, trying to change the subject and ease the tension. "In your bed?" Lando asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up with a hopeful glint.
"No, on the sofa," you replied quickly, leading him towards the living room. As you both settled onto the couch, Lando rested his head in your lap, his arms still wrapped around your waist.
The warmth of his body against yours provided a strange comfort, and you gently stroked his hair, hoping that the peaceful moment would help both of you find some clarity.
"We can talk more in the morning," you whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "For now, just rest."
Lando sighed softly, his eyes fluttering closed as he nestled closer to you. "Okay," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and contentment.
He murmured, his voice barely audible, "but promise me you won't leave again."
His breathing gradually slowed, and the tension in his body eased, allowing both of you to momentarily escape the complexities of the night.
"I promise," you muttered softly, your fingers continuing to trace soothing patterns in his hair. The weight of your words seemed to bring him a sense of peace, and soon his breathing became deep and even.
You watched over him, feeling a sense of calm wash over you as well, knowing that for now, at least, you were right where you needed to be. . . .
The first light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the living room. You stirred slightly, feeling the warmth of a blanket draped over you.
As you opened your eyes, you realized you were nestled in Lando's arms, his face inches from yours, still deep in slumber. His steady breaths tickled your cheek, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him so peaceful and vulnerable.
Carefully, you shifted to get a better look at him, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. The events of the previous night replayed in your mind, and you wondered what the day would bring.
Would he remember his heartfelt confession? Would things between you change?
For now, you decided to savor the moment, gently brushing a lock of hair away from his face as you whispered, "Good morning, Lando."
Lando's eyelids began to flutter as he gradually woke from his deep slumber. His brow furrowed slightly, and he let out a soft, contented sigh. Slowly, his eyes opened, revealing a hint of confusion that quickly melted into recognition as he saw you gazing down at him.
A sleepy smile spread across his face, and he tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer as if to confirm that you were really there.
"Good morning," he mumbled, his voice husky from sleep. He took a moment to fully wake up, blinking a few times before raising a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes.
You noticed the way his face softened as he remembered the events of the previous night, and a faint blush crept into his cheeks.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his tone gentle and filled with genuine concern.
"I did," you replied with a warm smile, feeling the sincerity in his question. "It was one of the best nights of sleep I’ve had in a long time. How about you? You seemed pretty peaceful."
Lando chuckled softly, still holding you close. "Yeah, I slept well, thanks to you. I was worried I might have said too much last night, but seeing you here now, I feel like everything's going to be alright."
His eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, and you could see the vulnerability lingering just beneath the surface.
"Do you… do you regret anything from last night?" he asked tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper.
"What happened yesterday?" you asked, only remembering when you collected him from Carlos.
Lando's expression shifted slightly, a mix of surprise and concern crossing his features. "You don't remember?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
You blinked, the memories slowly piecing themselves together. "I do remember picking you up from Carlos, but everything after that is a bit of a blur," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Lando's grip on you tightened slightly, as if to offer comfort. "It's okay," he said softly, a tender smile forming on his lips. "Don't worry about it. It was nothing serious."
"Okay," you said, and Lando smiled, propping himself up with one elbow. The morning light cast a soft glow over his features, making him look even more handsome. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and affectionate.
"Hey, I was wondering," he began, his fingers still lingering near your hair, "are you going anywhere during the summer break?" His eyes were filled with a mix of curiosity and hope, as if he was eager for your answer.
You paused for a moment, considering your plans. "I hadn't really decided yet," you replied honestly. "I was thinking of maybe taking a trip somewhere relaxing, but nothing's set in stone. Why do you ask?"
Lando's face lit up with a hint of excitement. "Well, I was thinking that we could go home first because my mom has been dying to see you again." He looked at you earnestly, waiting for your response.
"I saw her just last month though," you said with a chuckle.
Lando laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, but maybe she just likes you a lot. I swear she likes you more than her own son," he teased, giving you a playful nudge.
You laughed softly at his playful jab, feeling the warmth of his affection. "Well, I do have a certain charm," you said with a wink, "but I'd love to see her again. Besides, it's always nice to have a home-cooked meal and spend time with your family."
You paused, looking into his eyes. "And it would be good to spend more time with you too, away from all the chaos."
Lando's eyes brightened even more at your words. "That's great to hear," he said, his voice filled with genuine happiness. "We can plan something together. Maybe after visiting my mom, we can take that relaxing trip you mentioned. Just the two of us, somewhere quiet and beautiful."
"What do you think?" he asked softly, his breath warm against your skin.
Your heart fluttered at the idea. "That sounds perfect, Lando," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think a trip like that would be exactly what we need."
Lando's smile widened, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm glad you think so. Let's start planning it then. Maybe we can look at some places tonight and figure out where we want to go."
His excitement was contagious, and you found yourself grinning back at him, already imagining the serene moments you'd share together.
"Let's just focus on today," you suggested, your eyes sparkling with a mix of hope and excitement. "How about we make some breakfast together? I promise not to burn the toast this time."
Lando laughed, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort envelop you. "That sounds perfect," he agreed, and together you started your day, leaving the uncertainties of the night behind.
As you tried to get up, you felt Lando's arm still around your waist, holding you close. "Lando?" you asked softly, glancing back at him.
His eyes were half-closed, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "I didn't say now," he murmured, his voice laced with playful insistence. "Sleep a little more."
You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "Okay, but only for one hour," you insisted, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as a smile tugged at your lips. "We have a lot to do today."
Lando's grip loosened just slightly, but he didn't let go. "Fine, one hour," he agreed, his eyes closing again. "But no burning the toast later, deal?"
You laughed softly, nestling back into his embrace. "Deal," you whispered, closing your eyes and letting the comfort of the moment wash over you. . . .
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The next time you opened your eyes, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow across the living room. You noticed Lando was no longer beside you.
Sitting up, you stretched and immediately caught the delicious aroma of something cooking. Curiosity piqued, you slipped out of the blanket and made your way to the kitchen.
There, you find Lando, humming softly to himself as he expertly flipped pancakes on the stove. The table was set with fresh fruit, juice, and a pot of steaming coffee. He turned and saw you, a grin spreading across his face.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teased. "Thought I'd surprise you with breakfast. And don't worry, I didn't burn the toast."
"Good morning, chef," you replied, hopping up to sit on the counter, your legs swinging playfully. "This looks amazing! I guess I should let you take over breakfast duty more often." You reached out to snag a piece of fruit from the table, popping it into your mouth with a grin.
Lando chuckled, his eyes twinkling with delight. "Don't get too used to it. I might just expect you to return the favor next time," he teased, flipping another pancake with a flourish.
"But seriously, I wanted to make today special. We have a lot to look forward to, and I thought starting with a good breakfast would set the tone."
You smiled warmly, feeling your heart swell with affection as you watched him move around the kitchen, his care and attention evident in every gesture.
"Should I get the plane ready?" you asked, reaching for your phone. Lando glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing slightly before softening into a smile.
"Let's not rush," he said, placing a stack of perfectly golden pancakes onto a plate. "We have the whole day ahead of us. How about we enjoy breakfast first and then take it from there?"
You nodded, sliding off the counter to help set the table. "You're right. We don't need to hurry. Besides, this breakfast looks too good to rush through."
Lando grinned, pouring syrup over the pancakes. "That's the spirit. Let's take our time and savor every moment today."
As you set the final plates on the table, you couldn't help but sneak another glance at Lando. The morning light streaming through the windows cast a warm glow on his face, making him look even more radiant.
"You know," you began, taking a seat beside him, "I never knew you could cook like this. Where did you learn?"
Lando smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Believe it or not, my grandmother taught me. She always said that a good meal brings people together, no matter how busy life gets."
He placed a fork in your hand, nudging you playfully. "Now, dig in before it gets cold. We have a whole day to make the most of, starting with this breakfast."
You both settled into a comfortable rhythm, chatting and laughing as you enjoyed the meal. The promise of the day ahead making everything taste even sweeter.
After breakfast, the two of you cleaned up quickly, eager to start the day's adventure. "So, what's the plan?" you asked, excitement bubbling in your voice.
Lando smiled, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I thought we could explore my second home before heading back to the UK. There's a quaint little village nearby that I think you'll love. It's filled with charming cafes and picturesque scenery."
The thought of discovering new places together filled you with joy. As you packed your bags and prepared for the journey, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this spontaneous trip."Here first, then to the UK," you repeated, feeling the thrill of the unknown.
Lando nodded, his enthusiasm infectious. "Exactly. Let's make some unforgettable memories."
You chose to wear a stunning burnt orange printed mesh cut-out frill hem midi dress for the journey. The vibrant color complemented the morning's warm glow, and the intricate patterns added a playful touch to your look.
As you slipped it on, the dress hugged your curves perfectly, accentuating your silhouette in all the right places. The cut-out details added a hint of allure, while the frilled hem swayed gracefully with each step, giving you an air of effortless elegance.
Lando's eyes widened in appreciation as he saw you. "Wow, you look incredible," he said, his voice filled with admiration.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but smiled confidently. "Thanks, Lando. Ready to go?"
"Absolutely," Lando replied, his grin broadening. "But first, I have a little surprise for you." Intrigued, you followed him outside where a sleek, vintage convertible was parked in the driveway.
The car gleamed under the morning sun, its polished exterior hinting at many adventures yet to come. "I thought we could drive there in style," he said, opening the passenger door for you.
You slid into the plush leather seat, the scent of the car's interior mingling with the fresh morning air.
Lando hopped in beside you, turning the key and bringing the engine to life with a low, satisfying rumble.
"This is amazing, Lando," you said, your excitement evident. "I can't wait to see what the day has in store for us."
He backed out of the driveway, and the two of you set off, ready to embrace whatever adventures lay ahead.
As the car glided down the winding country roads, the scenery unfolded like a painting. Rolling hills blanketed with golden wildflowers stretched out on either side, and ancient oak trees stood proudly, their branches reaching out to touch the sky.
The morning mist began to lift, revealing quaint cottages with ivy-clad walls and gardens bursting with vibrant blooms, creating a postcard-perfect backdrop for your journey.
With the roof down, the wind tousled your hair and the warm sun kissed your skin, adding to the sense of freedom that the open road provided.
You could hear the cheerful songs of birds and the rustling of leaves, creating a symphony that perfectly matched the picturesque landscape around you.
The scent of blooming flowers and fresh grass filled the air, heightening your senses and making each moment feel even more magical.
You turned to Lando, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement you felt. "This is perfect," you said, your voice barely rising above a whisper as you took in the beauty around you.
He nodded, his grin never fading. "Just wait," he replied, "we're only getting started." The car cruised effortlessly through the countryside, each mile bringing new sights and experiences, cementing the day as one you would always cherish.
You soon reached a quaint little town nestled in the heart of the countryside. The cobblestone streets were bustling with life, as locals went about their morning routines.
Market stalls lined the square, offering everything from fresh produce to handmade crafts, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air. Children laughed and played near a fountain, their carefree joy adding to the town's charm.
Lando parked the car near a cozy café, its outdoor seating shaded by colorful umbrellas.
As you stepped out of the car, the townspeople greeted you with warm smiles and friendly nods. The sense of community was palpable, and you felt an immediate connection to this charming place.
"This is the places where I used to go with my mom," Lando bragged as he got out of the car to help you out. "I know basically everyone here." His eyes twinkled with a mix of nostalgia and pride as he gestured towards the bustling market.
"Let me show you around. You'll love it."
As you walked, Lando pointed out various landmarks and introduced you to the friendly locals. "That's Mr and Mrs. Thompson's bakery," he said, nodding towards an inviting shop with a window display full of pastries. "They make the best scones you'll ever taste."
Every corner seemed to hold a memory, and Lando's excitement was infectious. "And over there is Mr. Miller's blacksmith shop. He's been here for as long as I can remember."
With each introduction, you felt more at home, your heart swelling with appreciation for this special place and the man who shared it with you.
You and Lando explored the town together, stopping to admire the intricate details of the historic buildings and sampling local delicacies from the market. Every interaction and discovery added layers to the day's adventure, making it clear that this visit would be a highlight of your journey.
"Oh, I have to go do a message for my mom," Lando told you, his expression suddenly serious yet still warm. "Come with me," he added, taking your hand and leading you through the lively town.
As you walked, the conversations around you seemed to blend into a symphony of community life, making you feel both a part of and a visitor to this wonderful place.
"Is it far?" you asked, curious about the errand and eager to see more.
"Not at all," Lando replied with a reassuring smile. "My mom always has something for Mrs. Thompson. They go way back. You'll love her; she's like another grandmother to me."
His words carried a sense of nostalgia that made you even more eager to meet this special person.
As you approached the bakery, the warm scent of freshly baked goods enveloped you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next part of your adventure.
Mrs. Thompson appeared at the doorway, a petite woman with silver hair neatly tied into a bun and a welcoming smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. She wore a flour-dusted apron and wiped her hands on it as she stepped forward to greet you both.
"Lando! It's been too long," Mrs. Thompson exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. Lando gave her a big hug, lifting her slightly off the ground, which made her laugh heartily.
"And who is this lovely companion?" she asked, turning her attention to you. Lando introduced you, explaining how he had been showing you around the town.
"Well, any friend of Lando's is a friend of mine," Mrs. Thompson said warmly, extending her hand to you.
"Come in, come in. You must try our new raspberry scones; they're fresh out of the oven." She led you both into the cozy bakery, the smell of sugar and butter wafting through the air.
The bakery was a charming blend of old-world elegance and rustic charm. Shelves lined with jars of homemade jams and preserves added a vibrant splash of color against the warm, wooden walls.
Vintage baking tools hung as decorations, each one a testament to the bakery's rich history. A large chalkboard menu displayed the day's offerings in beautiful, looping script, and a display case full of decadent pastries and breads beckoned invitingly.
In one corner of the room, a small seating area was adorned with mismatched, yet cozy, chairs and tables, each one covered with a delicate lace tablecloth. Potted plants hung from the ceiling, their green leaves creating a serene canopy overhead.
The walls were adorned with black-and-white photographs of the town from decades past, giving the space a nostalgic touch. It was the kind of place that made you want to linger, savoring not just the delicious treats, but also the warmth and history that enveloped you.
As you settled into one of the cozy chairs, you couldn't help but notice the friendly banter between the staff and the regular customers. Mrs. Thompson moved effortlessly from table to table, sharing a laugh here and a kind word there, making everyone feel like family.
A young barista behind the counter was expertly crafting lattes while exchanging jokes with an elderly gentleman who seemed to be a daily fixture.
"So, what brings you here?" Mrs. Thompson asked after greeting everyone and sitting with you both.
Lando smiled, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "Well, first Mom told me to give this to you and we wanted to explore the town and thought there was no better place to start than your bakery," he said, handing a package to her.
You nodded in agreement, adding, "Lando's been singing praises about your scones and the warm atmosphere here, and I must say, he wasn't exaggerating."
Mrs. Thompson beamed at the compliment, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm glad to hear that. We always strive to make everyone feel at home," she said, pouring herself a cup of tea.
"So, what do you think of our little town so far?" she inquired, genuinely curious.
You shared your initial impressions, mentioning the charm of the historic buildings and the friendliness of the locals. As the conversation flowed, you felt an even deeper appreciation for the bakery and the community spirit it embodied.
Taking a bite of the scone, you were immediately struck by its perfect balance of texture: a crisp, golden exterior giving way to a soft, buttery center. The subtle sweetness was complemented by the tang of fresh berries, creating a symphony of flavors that danced on your palate.
It was the kind of scones that made you understand why people kept coming back for more.
Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you left Lando and Mrs. Thompson to continue their chat. As soon as you were out of earshot, Mrs. Thompson gave a knowing look to Lando and leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"So she's just a 'friend'?" she asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
Lando blushed, clearly caught off guard. "Yeah, just a friend," he stammered, though the pink tint on his cheeks betrayed his words.
Mrs. Thompson chuckled warmly. "Oh, Lando, you young ones always think you can hide these things. It's written all over your face," she said, patting his hand. "Either way, I'm glad to see you two here. It's not often someone brings such a sparkle to your eyes."
Lando could only smile sheepishly, silently thankful for the warmth and understanding that Mrs. Thompson always seemed to offer.
You returned from the bathroom, catching the tail end of their conversation. "What are you two whispering about?" you asked with a playful grin, noticing the slight blush still lingering on Lando's cheeks. Mrs. Thompson winked at you, her expression as welcoming as ever.
Mrs. Thompson simply winked and said, "Oh, nothing much, dear. Just a little friendly chat."
You raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Is that so? Well, I hope it was something good," you teased, taking another sip of your tea.
Lando cleared his throat and tried to change the subject. "So, what other places should we visit while we're in town, Mrs. Thompson?" he asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from himself.
Mrs. Thompson smiled, playing along with the diversion. "Oh, there are plenty of wonderful spots to explore. The old lighthouse at the edge of town is a must-see, especially around sunset. And if you're into antiques, there's a lovely little shop run by Mr. Jenkins down on Maple Street. His collection is simply fascinating," she said, her eyes twinkling.
"But most of all, just take the time to wander and soak in the atmosphere. This town has a way of revealing its secrets to those who take the time to truly look."
You nodded eagerly, feeling a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. "The lighthouse sounds perfect," you said, glancing at Lando, who seemed relieved to have the focus shifted away from him. "We should head over there soon if we want to catch the sunset," you suggested.
Lando's eyes met yours, and he gave a small, grateful smile before turning back to Mrs. Thompson.
"We'll definitely make time for Mr. Jenkins' shop too," Lando added, standing up and offering his hand to help you up. "Thank you so much for the recommendations, Mrs. Thompson. It was lovely chatting with you."
Mrs. Thompson beamed, her warm presence making you feel right at home. "Enjoy yourselves, dears. And don't be strangers—come back and visit an old lady like me sometime," she said with a wink.
With a final wave, you and Lando headed out, eager to chase the golden hour at the lighthouse.
As you strolled through the quaint streets of the town, the golden light of the setting sun bathed everything in a warm glow. The salty breeze from the sea whispered through the trees, carrying the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore.
With each step, the lighthouse grew closer, its silhouette standing tall against the vibrant hues of the evening sky.
As you and Lando approached the lighthouse, it became clear that Mrs. Thompson hadn't exaggerated. The structure stood majestically on the cliff, its whitewashed walls glowing softly in the fading light.
The panoramic view from the edge was breathtaking; the ocean stretched endlessly, reflecting the brilliant oranges and pinks of the sunset. You could hear the distant cry of seagulls and the rhythmic crashing of waves far below.
Lando turned to you, his eyes wide with awe. "This place is incredible," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "I can see why Mrs. Thompson suggested we come here."
You nodded in agreement, feeling a deep sense of peace wash over you. "It's like time stands still here," you replied softly. "I never imagined a place could be this beautiful."
Lando smiled, taking his arm around your shoulder. "Let's stay a little longer," he suggested. "I don't think I'm ready to leave just yet."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his gesture, the warmth of his arm around you making your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you said softly, looking down at your feet to hide your shy smile.
"There's something magical about this place. It's like an escape from everything else."
Lando's grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, and he leaned in closer. "I'm glad we came here together," he murmured, his voice gentle and sincere. "Moments like these... they're worth holding onto."
You looked up at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a connection that was even stronger than the serene beauty surrounding you.
"I'm really glad we came here." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
You gently took Lando's hand that rested on your shoulder and held it tightly, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. The simple act made your heart race, and you couldn't help but feel a deeper bond forming between you.
"This place really is special," you said, squeezing his hand gently, "and being here with you makes it even more unforgettable."
What you didn't see was how red Lando's face became from your actions. He looked down, a bashful smile tugging at his lips as he tried to steady his breath.
"Yeah, it really does," he managed to say, his voice tinged with emotion.
The two of you stood there, hand in hand, lost in the magic of the moment, with the world seemingly pausing around you. . . .
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As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape, you and Lando arrived in London. The bustling city lights began to twinkle as he navigated through the familiar streets, eventually pulling up to a charming, ivy-covered house.
"Welcome to my parents' place again," Lando said, a mix of excitement and nervousness in his voice.
He turned off the engine and looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
Stepping out of the car, you took in the surroundings, feeling a sense of anticipation. Lando walked around to your side as you two approached the front door. "I hope they still like you," he teased, his voice softer now. "Mom will definitely be looking forward to seeing you again."
A smile spread across your face as you remembered the warmth and hospitality of his family from your last visit. "I remember your mom's amazing lasagna and how your dad challenged me to that never-ending game of chess," you said with a chuckle.
"I'm looking forward to seeing them too."
As soon as Lando opened the door for you, you heard footsteps rushing towards the front door. "Lando! You're back!" his mom exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy as she enveloped him in a warm hug.
"And you brought our favorite guest!" she added, turning to you with a welcoming smile.
"Lando, it's good to see you, son," his dad called from the living room, his voice filled with genuine warmth. He appeared moments later.
"And you, young chess rival," he said to you with a wink, "ready for a rematch?"
The familiar, comforting atmosphere of their home washed over you, and you couldn't help but feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.
"Honestly, Adam, you and your chess games," Lando's mom said with a playful roll of her eyes. "You know you always take forever to make a move."
Adam chuckled, shaking his head. "It's called strategy, darling. You wouldn't understand."
"Oh, please," she retorted, turning back to you with a conspiratorial smile. "Just make sure he doesn't keep you up all night with his so-called 'strategizing.' You know how he gets when he thinks he's winning."
"You mean when I am winning," Adam corrected with a grin, eliciting a light-hearted groan from Lando and a laugh from you.
"Also congratulations on winning the race, son!" Cisca said happily, her eyes sparkling with pride. "We watched every moment, and you were absolutely brilliant out there."
"Thanks, Mom," Lando said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It was a tough race, but I gave it my all."
"And it showed," Adam chimed in, clapping Lando on the back. "You handled those turns like a pro. We're so proud of you."
"Yeah, the whole town's been talking about it," Cisca added, leading you all into the cozy living room. "But enough about the race for now. Let's get you both settled in. Dinner's almost ready, and we have so much to catch up on."
Lando placed your coat on the hanger before following you into the living room, where the aroma of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air.
"Smells amazing in here, Cisca," you remarked, taking a seat on the plush sofa. "What’s on the menu tonight?"
"Oh, just a little something special to celebrate Lando's big win," Cisca replied with a wink. "Roast chicken with all the fixings, and for dessert, your favorite—apple pie." Lando's eyes lit up at the mention of the dessert.
"You always know how to make us feel at home, Mom," he said, settling down beside you. Adam, meanwhile, was already setting up the chessboard on the coffee table, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Ready to lose again?" he teased, and you couldn't help but laugh as you moved your first pawn.
The next twenty minutes were a blur of strategic moves and playful banter between you and Adam. "You sure you want to move that knight there?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't say I didn't warn you.
"Just wait and see," you replied confidently, sliding your piece into position.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Lando was busy helping his mom with the cooking and setting the table. "Mom, where do you keep the salad bowls again?" he called out.
"Top shelf, sweetheart," Cisca responded, her hands expertly basting the roast chicken. "And don't forget to set out the fancy napkins. Tonight's a celebration, after all."
As you captured one of Adam's bishops, you overheard Lando's cheerful voice. "You know, Mom, I think this might be the best meal you've ever made."
"Only the best for my champion," she replied, beaming. "Now, go check on the pie, will you?"
"It looks like you have a thing for my boy," Adam muttered for only you to hear, his eyes never leaving the chessboard.
"What?" you said, shocked, momentarily losing your focus on the game. Adam's smirk grew wider as he moved his queen into position.
"Checkmate," he announced triumphantly. You blinked, still processing his earlier comment. Adam leaned back, folding his arms. "You didn't deny it," he said teasingly, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Well, I—" you stammered, your cheeks flushing.
Before you could gather your thoughts, Lando walked back into the room, holding a perfectly golden apple pie. "What's going on here?" he asked, glancing between you and Adam with a curious smile.
"Nothing much," Adam replied casually, though the smirk never left his face. "Just wrapping up another game of chess. You should join us next time."
You quickly nodded, trying to compose yourself. "Yeah, Lando, you'd be a worthy opponent," you added, hoping to steer the conversation away from your flustered state.
Lando chuckled, setting the pie down on the table. "Maybe next time. But for now, let's dig into dinner before it gets cold."
You got off the sofa and made your way to one of the seats in the living room, feeling a bit flustered. Lando quickly stepped in to help you with your seat, his warm smile putting you at ease.
As he sat down beside you, he leaned in slightly. "You okay?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with genuine concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, offering a small smile. "Just a little thrown off by the game, that's all."
Lando chuckled, shaking his head. "Dad can be a bit intense, but he's harmless. Besides, he's just trying to get a rise out of you."
You nodded, grateful for his comforting presence. "Thanks, Lando. I appreciate it." He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before turning his attention to the delicious spread in front of you.
"Now, let's enjoy this amazing meal Mom made," he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
Lando's parents exchanged a knowing glance, their smiles softening as they observed the tender moment between the two of you. His mother nudged his father gently, a silent communication passing between them.
They had seen their son grow up, and the way he looked at you now was unmistakable—he was completely smitten. Lando's father gave a slight nod, acknowledging the unspoken sentiment, and they both turned their attention back to the table, content to let the evening unfold naturally.
As the meal progressed, the warmth and love in the room seemed to envelop you, making you feel like part of the family. Each bite of the delicious food was savored, accompanied by light-hearted conversation and laughter.
You couldn't help but steal glances at Lando, who seemed equally enchanted by your presence. Lando’s hand would occasionally brush against yours as he passed you a dish or refilled your glass, each touch a silent promise of his feelings.
His parents watched these moments with quiet satisfaction, feeling a sense of peace knowing their son was in good hands.
"So, what do you think of doing for this summer break?" Cisca asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
You paused, glancing at Lando for a moment before answering. "Well, we were thinking of going to the beach tomorrow," you said, your voice filled with excitement. "It's been ages since we've had a proper beach day."
Cisca's face lit up with enthusiasm. "That sounds wonderful! The weather has been perfect for it lately. You should take the opportunity to relax and enjoy yourselves."
Lando nodded in agreement, his eyes meeting yours as he said, "Yeah, I think it'll be a great way to unwind and make some fun memories."
His father chimed in, "Just make sure to pack plenty of sunscreen and stay hydrated."
The conversation continued with everyone suggesting their favorite beach activities and reminiscing about past vacations, making the anticipation for tomorrow even sweeter.
As the plates were cleared away and everyone settled back into their chairs, the conversation flowed seamlessly from topic to topic.
Lando's mother recounted a particularly amusing story from one of their family beach trips, causing everyone to burst into laughter.
“And that’s how your father ended up with a sunburn in the shape of a lobster,” she finished, her eyes twinkling with mirth.
Lando grinned, adding, “I remember that! He had to wear that ridiculous hat for the rest of the trip.”
His father chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, it was either that or turn into a tomato again.” The room filled with laughter once more, the camaraderie palpable.
You felt a sense of belonging, grateful for the warmth and openness of Lando's family. It was clear that tomorrow's beach outing would be just the start of many cherished memories to come.
As the laughter began to die down, you glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed how late it had become.
"Lando, you should think about heading to bed," you said softly, turning to him with concern in your eyes. "You didn't sleep at all last night, remember?"
Lando stretched, stifling a yawn as he nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I could use some rest before our big day tomorrow."
His parents exchanged knowing looks, their smiles tender. "Get some sleep, son," his father said, patting Lando on the back. "We want you to be able to enjoy the beach without nodding off in the sand."
"Good night, guys," you said, standing up and stretching. "I think I'll head to bed as well." You noticed the subtle exchange of glances between Lando's parents and figured they might want a moment alone with him.
"Lando, about Y/N," Adam started as soon as you left the room.
"What about her?" Lando asked curiously, his brow furrowed slightly.
Adam exchanged a quick glance with his wife before continuing, "How do you feel about her? We can see there's something special between you two."
Lando hesitated for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "She's amazing," he finally said, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"I feel really comfortable around her, like I've known her forever. She's just...different, in a good way. I guess I really like her."
His parents nodded, their smiles growing wider. "We thought so," his mother said gently. "Just remember to be honest with her and yourself. Relationships are built on trust and communication."
"Also, put a ring on it before someone else does," Cisca teased, winking at her son.
Lando's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he laughed nervously. "Mom, it's a bit early for that, don't you think?" he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're just getting to know each other right now."
His father chuckled, shaking his head. "Your mother's just looking out for you, son. But she's right about one thing—don't let a good thing slip away. If you really care about her, make sure she knows it."
Lando nodded thoughtfully, appreciating the advice. "I will, Dad. Thanks."
With one last glance at his parents, he turned and headed to his room, feeling hopeful about the future. . . .
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You woke up late to being the first one awake. The sun was already shining brightly outside, casting a warm glow over the room.
You slowly sat up, feeling the drowsiness slowly fade away as you inhaled the aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee.
As you walked over to the kitchen counter, you heard a faint sound behind you.
Startled, you turned around to see Lando standing just a few feet away, a wide grin on his face. He had snuck up behind you, making you jump at his voice.
"Good morning! I hope you didn't mind me sneaking up on you," Lando said, his voice filled with laughter.
"Oh, Lando! You scared me! But it's okay, I'm glad you decided to join me," you said, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest.
Lando walked closer, his eyes shining with excitement. "I couldn't miss the chance to spend another day with you," he said, his voice sincere.
You couldn't help but smile at his words. "I'm glad too, Lando. Today, we have big plans, right?"
Lando's eyes widened. "Oh, yes! We're going to the beach!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with anticipation.
You nodded in agreement, excitement bubbling within you as well. "That's right! I thought we could have some fun building sandcastles and maybe go for a swim later."
Lando nodded eagerly. "That sounds like a great idea! I just love the ocean, it always puts me at ease."
As the two of you continued talking, you watched as Lando went about making his coffee, his movements fluid and graceful.
Lando's hair was tousled, a clear sign that he had just rolled out of bed. Despite the disarray, there was something endearing about his bed hair, giving him a boyish charm that made you smile.
His eyes, though slightly shadowed by remnants of drowsiness, sparkled with a warmth and energy that was unmistakable. The way the morning light played on his features highlighted the gentle curve of his jawline and the subtle freckles dotting his cheeks.
As he moved around the kitchen, you noticed the relaxed posture he carried, a testament to his easygoing nature. Even in his half-awake state, Lando managed to exude a kind of grace that was both captivating and comforting.
His casual attire—a simple t-shirt and shorts—added to the laid-back vibe of the morning, making the moment feel even more serene. You found yourself appreciating these small, intimate details, realizing how much they contributed to the special bond you shared with him.
"So, Lando, what do you want to build out of sand?" you said even though you knew the answer, taking a sip of your coffee.
Lando smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I want to build an McLaren,"
You couldn't help but feel a surge of adoration for the man. "I knew you were going to say that, but your last sand car looked amazing," you said, your voice filled with admiration.
Lando blushed slightly, a modest smile spreading across his face. "Well, thank you," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
As you and Lando finished your drinks, you both stood up and headed to your own bedrooms to dress for beach day.
You changed into a pretty bikini, feeling the sun's warm rays on your skin as you stepped into the bedroom. The vibrant colors of the bikini complemented your skin tone perfectly, making you feel confident and ready for the day ahead.
The snug fit accentuated your curves, while the delicate straps added a touch of elegance to the overall look. As you adjusted the top, you couldn't help but notice how the design highlighted your shoulders and collarbone, giving you an effortlessly chic appearance.
Standing in front of the mirror, you admired the way the bikini hugged your body in all the right places. The fabric was soft and comfortable, allowing you to move freely without any restrictions.
You felt a sense of excitement bubbling within you, eager to join Lando on the beach and create unforgettable memories together.
With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed a light cover-up and slipped on your sandals, ready to embrace the adventures that awaited you by the ocean.
When you stepped out of your bedroom, Lando's eyes widened with admiration. "Wow, you look incredible," he said, his voice filled with genuine awe. His appreciative gaze and warm smile made your heart flutter, adding to the anticipation of the day ahead.
Lando stepped out of his room, his toned and sculpted physique on full display as he changed into a pair of sleek swimming trunks. His broad shoulders and chiselled chest were a testament to his dedication in the gym, each muscle group clearly defined beneath his sun-kissed skin.
As he walked around the house, his powerful legs carried him with an effortless grace, the defined quadriceps and calves rippling with every step.
Lando's narrow waist and sharp hip bones accentuated his V-shaped torso, giving him an air of athletic prowess and masculine allure.
Your eyes were naturally drawn to Lando's striking facial features - his strong, angular jawline, piercing eyes, and neatly trimmed beard only added to his undeniable charisma and rugged good looks.
It was clear that Lando took great pride in maintaining his physique, and the end result was an incredibly attractive and impressive sight to behold.
"You ready?" Lando asked after packing all you two needed for the beach. His voice was warm and filled with excitement, matching the gleam in his eyes.
You nodded enthusiastically, grabbing the bag filled with towels, sunscreen, and other essentials.
"Absolutely," you replied with a smile, feeling a rush of anticipation for the day ahead.
Both of you left Lando's parents' home, the golden rays shining brightly over the beach. You and Lando carried all the chairs and equipment down the sandy path, the feeling of excitement growing with each passing step.
When you finally arrived at the shore, you spread out the chairs and arranged them in a comfortable spot, not too far from the waves.
Lando set down the last of the beach gear and looked up just as you finished applying sunscreen to your arms and legs. He smiled appreciatively at the sight of you so effortlessly preparing for the day ahead.
"Do you need help with the sunscreen?" you asked, holding up the bottle with a playful grin.
"Actually, I could use a hand with my back," Lando admitted, turning around and giving you a perfect view of his toned muscles.
You stepped closer, squeezing some sunscreen onto your hands before gently rubbing it onto his shoulders and back. His skin was warm from the sun, and you couldn't help but notice how smooth and strong it felt beneath your fingers.
"Thanks," he said, glancing back at you with a grateful smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"No problem," you replied, your fingers working to ensure every inch of his skin was protected. "Can't have you turning into a lobster, can we?"
You both laughed, the easy camaraderie and shared anticipation for the day's adventures blending seamlessly with the natural beauty around you.
After setting up everything, you and Lando looked at each other, a mischievous glint in both your eyes. You reached for the shovel and bucket, handing them to Lando.
"Okay, Lando, show me what you've got," you said, a mischievous grin on your face.
Lando laughed, excitement bubbling within him. "Oh, get ready, because we're going to build a McLaren out of sand!" he declared, his voice filled with determination.
You watched as Lando meticulously began sculpting the sand, shaping it into intricate shapes and curves. You couldn't help but be amazed by his talent, the way he transformed the sand into a work of art.
Hours passed as you and Lando worked together, perfecting every detail of the F1 car. It was hard work, but the two of you persevered, determined to finish what you'd started.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you and Lando stood back to admire your creation. The F1 car stood tall on the sand, a testament to your combined efforts. You both broke out into laughter, the joy of the moment filling your hearts.
"Wow, Lando, you really outdid yourself," you said, your voice filled with admiration.
Lando nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "I couldn't have done it without you," he said.
You then took out your phone and snapped a few pictures of the sand car, eager to share the masterpiece on your socials. "This is definitely going to get some likes," you said, grinning as you angled for the perfect shot.
Lando struck a playful pose beside the sand McLaren, adding a touch of fun to the photos.
As you removed your beach cover-up, Lando couldn't help but notice how flawlessly the bikini accentuated your figure. The vibrant colours and delicate patterns complemented your skin tone, drawing his gaze towards the alluring curves of your body.
He found himself captivated by the way the fabric hugged your frame, highlighting your natural beauty in a tasteful and sophisticated manner.
Lando's eyes traced the contours of your body, admiring the graceful lines and the subtle movements as you adjusted your attire. The bikini top provided just the right amount of support, framing your chest in a way that was both elegant and alluring.
Meanwhile, the bottom half of the swimsuit clung to your hips, accentuating the natural shape of your legs and drawing attention to your toned physique.
Despite his best efforts to avert his gaze, Lando found himself repeatedly drawn back to the sight before him. There was an undeniable magnetism to the way you carried yourself, exuding a quiet confidence that only further heightened the captivating nature of your appearance.
He couldn't help but admire the overall harmony of the ensemble, which seemed to effortlessly highlight your natural beauty.
You both then headed into the refreshing waters of the sea, the waves lapping at your feet. The cool water provided a stark contrast to the warm sun, and you and Lando played together, splashing and laughing like carefree children.
The joy of the moment made all your efforts worthwhile, and for a while, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
The water felt invigorating against your skin, its coolness providing a delightful respite from the sun's intense heat. Each wave that brushed against you sent a refreshing shiver through your body, awakening your senses and amplifying the joy of the moment.
The gentle embrace of the sea made you feel both energized and at peace, perfectly complementing the carefree laughter you shared with Lando.
You started to float, letting the gentle waves cradle your body as you closed your eyes and surrendered to the tranquility of the moment. The sea's rhythmic motion lulled you into a serene state, and for a brief period, you forgot all your worries.
Suddenly, you felt a hand slide under your neck, lifting your head slightly out of the water. Startled, you opened your eyes to find Lando looking down at you, his expression filled with concern.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, and it touched you that he cared so deeply.
Smiling softly, you reassured him, "I'm fine, just enjoying the sea."
His features relaxed, and he let out a breath of relief.
"Since when can you swim, let alone float? I remember trying to teach you so many times but it didn't work," Lando asked as he floated beside you, holding your hand so you wouldn't drift far from him. Like otters when they fall asleep.
"I took some lessons a few weeks ago," you explained, feeling a bit proud of yourself. "I knew we were going to the beach during the summer break, and I didn't want you to have to take care of me the whole time again."
You could see a flicker of surprise in Lando's eyes, followed by a warm smile that made your heart flutter.
"But I like being your lifeguard," Lando said, his voice softening as he squeezed your hand gently.
You blushed at his words, feeling the warmth of his affection wash over you more intensely than the sun's rays. "Besides, it gives me an excuse to spend more time with you."
The sincerity in his gaze melted away any lingering doubts you had, and you couldn't help but smile back at him.
"Well, I appreciate that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, "but I think it's time I started taking care of myself, at least a little bit." You squeezed his hand in return, feeling a surge of confidence mixed with the comfort of his presence.
"And maybe now we can just enjoy the water together, without you having to worry so much."
Lando chuckled softly, the sound blending harmoniously with the waves around you. "I guess that's true," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection. "But don't think for a second that I won't still be keeping an eye on you."
He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, and you could feel his breath on your skin. "After all, someone has to make sure you don't float away."
You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves. "Well, as long as you promise not to let go," you teased, feeling a playful glint in your eyes.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Lando replied, his tone serious yet tender, "You're far too important to me."
Your chest was filled with butterflies at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your heart race. It was in moments like this that you realized just how deep your feelings for Lando ran.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the water, you felt an unspoken promise hanging in the air between you.
You decided to take this time for a race.
"Last to the sandcar has to pack everything." You said, letting go of Lando's hand to start running early.
"You snake! That's cheating!" Lando called, taking off through the shallow water.
The two of you played and splashed, the warm sun beaming down as you revelled in the joy of the moment. Lando tackled you into the waves, sending you both tumbling in a fit of giggles.
"I win!" you declared, emerging from the water with a triumphant grin.
"Oh, is that so?" he challenged, splashing you once more. "I think we both know who the real champion is here."
"We could settle this with a game of beach volleyball," you suggested, nodding towards the net set up near the sandcar. "First one to ten points wins, and the loser has to pack everything up."
Lando's eyes lit up with excitement as he agreed. "You're on! But don't cry when I beat you," he teased, already making his way towards the net.
The game was filled with laughter and friendly competition, each of you determined to claim victory. The sound of the ball bouncing on the sand, mixed with your playful banter, created an atmosphere of pure joy.
As the score climbed higher, you could feel the tension rising, both of you giving it your all. Finally, with a well-placed spike, you secured the winning point, collapsing onto the sand in a fit of laughter.
"Looks like you’re on packing duty, Lando!" you exclaimed, your chest heaving with exhilaration.
Lando let out an exaggerated groan, flopping dramatically onto the sand beside you. "You got lucky," he said with a playful pout, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.
"But a deal's a deal—I guess I'll start packing," he added, giving you a mock salute before getting up with a grin.
As you watched him clean, you picked up your beach cover-up and slipped it on, feeling the cool fabric against your sun-warmed skin. Just then, you noticed a man walking over to you with a friendly smile.
He was tall and athletic, with skin the color of rich mahogany that glistened under the afternoon sun. His dreadlocks were neatly styled, cascading down to his shoulders like a waterfall of dark, twisted ropes.
He wore a simple white tank top that highlighted his muscular build and a pair of colorful board shorts that hinted at a vibrant personality. Around his neck hung a pendant, which caught the light and sparkled as he approached.
His smile was warm and inviting, contrasting with the intensity of his deep brown eyes that seemed to hold a world of stories.
"Hey there," he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
"My name is Jordan, and I'm part of a model agency. We're looking for beautiful women to participate in a modeling project for two weeks. Of course, you get paid generously," Jordan explained, his eyes scanning the beach scene before settling back on you with a hopeful expression.
You blinked in surprise, glancing over at Lando who was still packing up the beach gear.
"Modeling? That sounds interesting," you responded, trying to hide your excitement. "What kind of project is it?"
Jordan's smile widened. "It's a beachwear campaign, perfect for someone like you who clearly enjoys the sun and sand. We're looking for fresh faces and natural beauty, and I think you would be a great fit. If you're interested, I can give you more details and set up a meeting with our team," he offered, extending a business card towards you.
You hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the business card in Jordan's hand before taking it with a smile. "That sounds like an amazing opportunity," you said, your voice laced with excitement.
"I've never done any modeling before, but I'd love to give it a try. When and where is the meeting?"
Jordan's eyes lit up with approval as he responded, "Great! The meeting is tomorrow afternoon at our local office just a few blocks from here. We can go over all the details, and you'll get to meet the rest of the team. Don't worry; we'll guide you through everything. Just bring yourself and that radiant smile. See you then?"
You nodded eagerly, feeling a blend of nerves and anticipation.
"Y/N! Who's that?" you heard Lando yell from a distance, his voice filled with curiosity.
You turned back to Jordan with a slight laugh, "That's Lando, my best friend."
Jordan chuckled, "You can bring your little friend if you want to," he said, winking before leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You waved back at Lando, who was now walking over. "Who was that?" he repeated, curiosity evident in his tone.
"That was Jordan," you explained, holding up the business card. "He's from a modeling agency and offered me a chance to be part of a beachwear campaign. Can you believe it?"
Lando raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the business card. "Modeling, huh? That sounds pretty cool. Are you going to do it?"
"I think so," you replied, excitement bubbling in your voice. "The meeting is tomorrow afternoon. He even said I could bring you along if I wanted. What do you think?"
Lando grinned, giving you a reassuring nod. "Why not? It sounds like an amazing opportunity. Plus, I'd love to see you in action. Let's go check it out together."
You grinned at him before giving him a hug, feeling a wave of gratitude for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Lando. I don't know what I'd do without you," you said, squeezing him tightly.
As you both started walking back to the car, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement for what tomorrow might bring.
Lando glanced back over his shoulder to see Jordan disappearing into the crowd, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. "I just hope he's legit," Lando muttered under his breath, his protective instincts kicking in.
"Don't worry, I'll be there to make sure everything goes smoothly," he added, giving you a reassuring smile as he opened the car door for you. . . .
You and Lando came back from the beach and were greeted by Lando's parents who were busy cooking dinner.
"So how was the beach?" Cisca asked, looking up from chopping vegetables. You could see the curiosity in her eyes as she waited for your response.
"You won't believe it! I got picked to be in a modeling program!" you said excitedly, barely able to contain your joy.
Lando's parents paused their cooking and turned their attention to you, their faces lighting up with surprise and pride. "That's amazing!" Adam exclaimed. "Tell us all about it!"
Without hesitation, you launched into the story, recounting every detail of your encounter with Jordan. "We were just walking along the beach when this guy approached me out of nowhere," you began, your hands gesturing animatedly.
"He introduced himself as Jordan from a modeling agency, and he said I had the perfect look for their upcoming beachwear campaign. He handed me his business card and invited me to a meeting tomorrow afternoon."
Cisca and Adam exchanged delighted glances. "That's incredible!" Cisca said, her eyes shining with pride.
"But, are you sure it's safe?" Adam asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.
"Lando's going to come with me," you reassured them, glancing over at Lando, who nodded in agreement.
"We'll make sure everything checks out. I just can't believe this opportunity came out of nowhere!" you added, your excitement bubbling over once again.
As you spoke about Jordan, Lando's parents noticed a hint of jealousy brewing within their son.
Cisca decided to tease her son by asking you more about Jordan.
"Who did you say gave you the card? Jordan was it?" She said innocently, earning a glance from her son.
"Yes, Jordan," you confirmed, your mind drifting back to the encounter. "He was tall, with dark hair and these piercing brown eyes. He had this confident yet approachable aura about him. Honestly, he looked like he could be a model himself."
Lando coughed subtly, but Cisca wasn't done. "And did he mention how he got into the modeling industry?" she asked, her tone teasing but genuinely curious.
"Oh, he did," you replied eagerly. "He told me he started as a photographer and slowly transitioned into scouting talent. He seemed really passionate about his work."
Lando shifted uncomfortably, but before he could say anything, Adam chimed in, "Well, it's great that Lando will be there with you. He'll make sure everything is on the up and up."
With each passing word, Lando's jealousy grew stronger, although he tried his best to hide it.
"I should get my skincare started before tomorrow, I need to go. Night, guys," you said, heading to your room with a cheerful wave. Cisca and Adam gave you warm goodnights, but Lando remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Once you were out of earshot, Cisca turned to her son with a knowing smile. "Lando, you know you don't have anything to worry about, right?" she teased gently.
"I'm not worried," Lando replied a bit too quickly, his eyes darting away.
Adam chuckled, patting his son's back. "It's natural to feel a bit protective, but trust her instincts. Besides, you'll be there to make sure everything is fine.
Lando nodded reluctantly, still trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in his chest.
Cisca's smile turned mischievous, and she leaned in closer to her son. "You know, if you don't prioritize her, someone like Jordan might just sweep her off her feet," she teased, raising an eyebrow.
Lando's eyes widened slightly, and he looked at his mother, a mix of annoyance and concern flickering across his face.
"Mom, that's not funny," he muttered, crossing his arms defensively.
Cisca chuckled and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm just saying, Lando, don't take her for granted. She's a catch, and you need to show her how much she means to you."
Lando sighed deeply, his eyes finally meeting his mother's. "It's not that simple, Mom. I'm scared of ruining what we have. She's my best friend, and if I tell her how I really feel and she doesn't feel the same... I don't think I could handle losing her," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Cisca's expression softened, and she squeezed his shoulder gently.
"Lando," she said softly, "sometimes the greatest risks bring the greatest rewards. If you truly care about her, she deserves to know. And who knows? She might feel the same way but is just as scared as you are. Trust in what you have, and believe in her as much as you believe in yourself."
Lando nodded slowly, taking his mother's words to heart, though the fear of the unknown still lingered in his mind.
Adam sensing his son's vulnerability, added, "Lando, your friendship with you and Y/N will always be our priority. We would never do anything to jeopardize that. Trust in our love and support."
Lando took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I do love her, Mom. So much that it hurts sometimes. But there are moments when I feel like I don’t deserve her. She's confident, smart, and kind, and I’m just... me," he admitted, his voice wavering.
"What if she realises she deserves someone better, someone who isn't scared all the time?"
Cisca's eyes filled with empathy as she listened to her son's heartfelt confession. "Lando, you are more than enough. Everyone has insecurities, but it's how you deal with them that matters. She loves you for who you are, not for who you think you need to be."
Lando swallowed hard, trying to absorb his mother's comforting words. "But what if I'm not ready to face my fears? What if I mess things up because I'm too scared to take the leap?" he asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty.
Cisca gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "Lando, it's normal to feel scared when you're about to make a big decision, especially one that involves your heart. But you have to trust that your feelings for her are real and that they're worth fighting for."
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"So what time are you free, Miss Y/N?" Jordan asked, glancing up from his computer screen to meet her eyes.
Y/N smiled, trying to sound confident before looking at Lando for confirmation of the time. "I'm free from 1 PM."
"Okay, that's good," Jordan replied, nodding his head.
"Now let me explain what will be happening over these two weeks. You will be modeling different topics inspired by various artworks. Each session will be designed to bring out a unique aspect of your style and personality. You'll have makeup artists and photographers to take care of you, so all you need to do is be there and give it your best."
Y/N glanced at Lando once more, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside her. "That sounds amazing, Jordan. Thank you for the opportunity. I'm looking forward to it," you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.
Lando gave you an encouraging smile, his earlier doubts momentarily forgotten as he watched the confident and poised woman he loved prepare to embark on this new adventure.
Jordan continued, "Great! Each session will last about three hours, so make sure you're well-rested and prepared. We'll start with a briefing each morning to outline the day's theme and goals. If you have any ideas or specific looks you want to try, feel free to share them with the team."
Y/N nodded, her excitement growing with each detail. "That sounds perfect, Jordan. I'll be ready to give it my all."
Lando felt a surge of pride and admiration as he watched Y/N embrace the opportunity with such enthusiasm. He reached out and gently squeezed her hand, offering silent support.
"You're going to be amazing," he whispered, his eyes filled with unwavering confidence in her abilities.
"Thanks, Lando," you said, your voice tinged with hope. "You'll be with me the whole time, right?" you asked, looking up at him with wide, expectant eyes.
"Of course," Lando replied without hesitation, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Wherever you go, I go. I wouldn't miss this for anything."
His words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, making you feel invincible. With Lando by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way during these two weeks.
"Thanks, Jordan. I'll see you tomorrow," you said, filling out all the forms before standing up. Lando closely followed, his presence a steady anchor in the whirlwind of new information and upcoming challenges.
As you handed the completed forms back to Jordan, you couldn't help but feel a surge of determination.
"Remember, if you have any questions or need anything, don't hesitate to reach out," Jordan assured you with a warm smile. "We're all here to make this experience as fulfilling as possible for you."
"Got it, Jordan. I appreciate it," you replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie already forming with the team.
Lando placed a reassuring hand on your back as you both made your way to the exit, ready to tackle the exciting journey together. . . .
The first day was amazing. There were more models just like you, and you were able to meet your entire team.
Sarah was your makeup artist, and she had an incredible job of making you look camera-ready.
She had a striking appearance that immediately caught your eye. Her short, platinum blonde hair framed her angular face perfectly, giving her a modern and edgy look. Her high cheekbones were accentuated with just a hint of blush, and her almond-shaped green eyes sparkled with an intensity that conveyed both professionalism and warmth.
A small, silver nose ring added a touch of rebellion to her otherwise polished look, and her full lips were painted a deep shade of red, completing her striking visage.
As she worked, you couldn't help but notice the precise and delicate movements of her hands. Her slender fingers moved with the confidence and grace of someone who had years of experience in the industry.
Despite her somewhat intimidating appearance, Sarah's demeanor was incredibly kind and approachable. She spoke to you in a soothing voice, offering tips and encouraging words as she meticulously applied each layer of makeup.
Her ability to balance such a bold personal style with a gentle and supportive personality made her an instant favorite for you among the team.
Tom, the photographer, was incredibly friendly and would make you feel comfortable in front of the camera.
He also had a laid-back, artistic vibe that made him instantly approachable. He wore a simple black beanie over his tousled brown hair, which always seemed to fall perfectly into place.
His casual attire—consisting of a well-worn graphic tee and distressed jeans—contrasted with the high-fashion environment, but it suited him perfectly. His blue eyes were keen and observant, always catching the perfect moment through the lens, and his perpetual smile added a sense of ease to every photoshoot.
Everyone on set was so welcoming and eager to help you succeed.
As you walked onto the set, you were immediately struck by the energy and excitement in the air. The other models were all friendly and supportive, and you quickly bonded over their shared experience.
Sarah greeted you with a warm smile and got to work on your makeup, transforming you into a polished and professional-looking model.
"So, do you have any experience in modeling before?" Sarah asked curiously as she blended the foundation seamlessly into your skin.
"No, never," you replied with a nervous laugh, "I don't even know why I got picked to be in this."
Sarah's eyes softened as she gave you an encouraging smile. "Everyone starts somewhere, and you have a natural look that's perfect for the camera. Trust me, you'll do great."
"Thanks, that means a lot coming from you," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "Do you have any tips for someone who's just starting out?"
Sarah nodded thoughtfully. "Absolutely. Keep your posture strong and your expressions natural. The camera loves authenticity, so just be yourself and enjoy the moment."
There was a moment of silence before Sarah decided to speak again. "Is the guy you came in with your boyfriend?" she asked, referring to Lando.
You glanced at Lando from the mirror and saw he was busy talking to some girls.
The girls surrounding Lando had blonde hair and pale skin, their model-shaped bodies making you envious. They laughed at his every word, their flirtatious giggles echoing through the studio.
You couldn't help but notice how Lando's eyes sparkled when he was with them, a clear sign of his preference.
Wasn't it obvious that they were exactly his type? You sighed internally, knowing deep down that you could never be what he wanted.
A pang of jealousy hit you, but you quickly masked it with a smile.
As you glanced back at Lando, laughing and charming everyone around him, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever be more than just a friend in his eyes.
Could you ever be the one to capture his attention the way those girls did, or were you destined to remain in the background?
"No, we're just friends," you said, hiding your feelings.
Sarah raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "Just friends, huh? Well, he seems pretty protective of you. Sometimes, the best relationships start as friendships."
You shrugged, trying to keep your emotions in check. "Maybe. But for now, I'm just focusing on getting through this shoot without tripping over my own feet."
Sarah chuckled and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be just fine. And who knows? Maybe by the end of the day, you'll have more clarity about everything."
As Sarah finished the last touches, Tom approached with a reassuring grin.
"Hey there, ready for your close-up?" he asked, his blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
"Honestly, I'm a bit nervous," you admitted, shifting slightly in your seat.
"Don't worry," Tom said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "We'll take it step by step. Just be yourself, and we'll capture some amazing shots together. You're going to be fantastic!"
Tom was a true professional. He gave clear instructions and made you feel at ease, even when you were a little nervous in front of the camera. He had a keen eye for detail and was able to capture your best angles, helping you look and feel your best.
When Tom finally showed you the first set of photos, you were blown away. "Is that really me?" you asked, your eyes widening in disbelief as you looked at the stunning images on the screen.
The transformation was incredible, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. "Absolutely," Tom replied with a grin. "You did fantastic. These are some of the best shots we've taken today."
You turned to Lando, who was standing nearby, and showed him the photos. "Look at these, Lando. I can't believe it."
He looked over your shoulder, his face lighting up with a proud smile. "I told you, you're amazing and you look beautiful," Lando said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I knew you had it in you."
You blushed at his words, feeling a warmth spread through your cheeks. "Thank you, Lando," you said softly, glancing down at the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes again.
Sarah gave you a knowing look, a smirk playing on her lips. "See? Sometimes, others see what we can't see in ourselves," she remarked, her eyes twinkling.
"And it looks like someone else sees it too," she added, nodding subtly in Lando's direction.
You laughed softly, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment at the attention.
"I couldn't have done it without all of your support. This whole team is incredible."
Lando chuckled, giving you a playful nudge. "Well, we knew you had it in you from the start. Just keep doing what you're doing, and you'll go far."
You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. "I will. With a team like this, how could I not?" You both laughed, the bond between you and your new colleagues growing stronger with each passing moment.
"Wow Y/N, is that you?" Jordan's voice echoed into the room as he approached, his eyes widening in surprise at the photos.
You smiled warmly, pleased by his reaction, while out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lando's smile falter slightly, though no one else seemed to catch it.
"Yeah, it is," you replied, trying to keep the mood light. "Tom here worked his magic." Jordan nodded appreciatively, glancing between you and the photos. "Well, you look absolutely stunning. Seriously, these are just incredible."
"Thanks, Jordan," you said, feeling the support of your team even as you sensed a subtle tension in the air.
"Hey boss, I knew you had a good eye for beauty, you really picked a good one," Sarah said to Jordan, her voice teasing yet sincere.
Jordan laughed, placing an arm around your shoulders. "I knew it too, a rare beauty she is," he said, his tone filled with genuine pride.
You couldn't help but blush again, feeling both flattered and slightly overwhelmed by the attention. "Thanks, everyone. It really means a lot," you said, your voice a bit shaky but heartfelt.
Lando stood nearby, his expression now more composed, though you could still sense a hint of something unspoken in his eyes.
"Alright, let's keep this momentum going," he finally said, his voice steady. "We've got a lot more to capture today."
The team nodded in agreement, the energy in the room lifting as you all prepared for the next set of shots.
The room buzzed with excitement and focused energy as everyone moved into position. Lights were adjusted, cameras were checked, and the hum of whispered conversations filled the air.
Despite the earlier tension, the camaraderie among the team members was palpable, creating an atmosphere of mutual support and enthusiasm.
You then headed to the dressing room to change into a beautiful dress that complemented your skin tone perfectly. The dress was a rich, deep color that seemed to enhance your natural glow, and as you slipped it on, you couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence.
You took a moment to admire your reflection, appreciating how the fabric flowed gracefully and accentuated your features.
Tom's keen eye for styling had truly outdone itself.
Returning to the set, the collective gaze of your colleagues turned towards you, their eyes lighting up with admiration.
"Wow, you look absolutely stunning," Sarah exclaimed, her earlier teasing replaced with genuine awe.
Even Lando's guarded expression softened as he gave you a nod of approval. The atmosphere shifted, becoming even more charged with positive energy and anticipation for the work ahead.
As you took your practiced position, you felt the support and encouragement of your team, ready to capture the magic that was about to unfold. . . .
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liked by landonorris, mclaren, y/nbestie, and 3,612,937 others.
tagged; vogue
yourusername: One minute I was enjoying summer break, the next minute I'm modeling for a big company! Feeling incredibly grateful for this amazing opportunity and the wonderful team that made today unforgettable. Their support and encouragement transformed every moment into a magical experience. From the adrenaline rush of the camera clicks to the warmth of shared laughter, this journey has been nothing short of incredible. Here's to many more moments of creativity, camaraderie, and capturing beauty in all its forms.
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Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Max, I don't know what to do, man. Every time I see her, I just—it's like my brain stops working."
Max chuckled, his face lighting up the screen. "Mate, you're actually down bad. You're totally whipped. It's hilarious to watch, honestly."
Lando groaned, leaning closer to the camera. "Thanks for the support, really. But seriously, any advice? I can't keep acting like a nervous wreck around her."
Max leaned back, a mischievous grin on his face. "Just be yourself, Lando. She's already into you, even if she doesn't know it yet. Confidence is key, mate. And maybe, you know, actually tell her how you feel?"
"You're just saying that because you already have a girlfriend," Lando said, rolling his eyes. "It's easy for you to give advice when you're not the one stuttering like an idiot every time she walks into the room."
Max's grin widened. "True, but that's how I got my girlfriend in the first place. I stopped overthinking and just went for it. Trust me, Lando, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Besides, the worst that can happen is she says no, and from what I can see, that's highly unlikely."
Before Lando could reply, he heard your voice calling from downstairs, "Lando, are you ready to go?" Panic flashed across his face for a moment as he scrambled to end the call.
"Uh, gotta go, Max. Thanks for the pep talk," he muttered hastily before disconnecting. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, and made his way downstairs.
Seeing you waiting at the bottom, looking effortlessly radiant, he felt his nerves kick up again.
As he reached the bottom, you greeted him with a bright smile. "Hey, you look great!" you said, your eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.
Lando's nerves seemed to melt away at your words, and he found himself smiling back. "Thanks, you look beautiful as well," he replied, his voice steadying. "Shall we?"
It's already been a week since the modelling project began, and while you were clearly thriving, Lando was feeling increasingly frustrated. Every time he tried to catch a moment alone with you, there was always something—another shoot, a meeting, or some other distraction.
How was he supposed to ask you out when you were both constantly busy?
The few times you did get back home early, you were so exhausted that you barely had the energy to keep your eyes open, let alone have a meaningful conversation. Lando couldn't help but wonder if this was even the right time to make a move.
What if you were too focused on your career to notice his feelings? Was he just setting himself up for disappointment by hoping for a perfect moment that might never come?
The weight of these thoughts pressed heavily on his mind as he opened the door for you, determined to find a way to break through the barriers that seemed to keep you apart.
The theme for this second week was love, which meant you had to be partnered with the opposite sex or the sex you're attracted to.
The theme of love for the photoshoot is meant to capture the essence of being loved or loving someone through a powerful visual representation. The goal is to create images that evoke the deep emotions and connections associated with love.
In the first stage, the photographs should convey a sense of warmth, comfort, and security. They could showcase the gentle embrace of a couple, the tender gaze shared between two individuals, or the simple act of holding hands - all of which communicate the feeling of being cherished and accepted.
The second stage should focus on the photographs that depict the passion and intensity of love. These images might feature couples gazing into each other's eyes with an unspoken desire, or caught in a moment of playful, intimate interaction. The aim is to capture the vibrant, all-consuming nature of love that ignites the senses.
You were partnered with a young boy called Marcus, who seemed to have a knack for making everyone around him laugh. As you both prepared for the next shoot, Marcus turned to you, grinning.
"You know, Lando's been looking pretty restless lately. Think he might have a crush on someone?" He winked exaggeratedly, causing you to laugh.
"Oh, Marcus, stop being silly," you replied, though a blush crept up your cheeks. "Lando and I are just friends."
"Really? Because the way he's staring at me makes me think he wants to kill me," Marcus joked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics, but a part of you wondered if there was some truth in his words. Lando had been acting differently lately, more reserved and distant, yet his eyes always seemed to find yours across the room.
"Maybe he's just stressed about the shoot," you suggested, trying to dismiss the flutter in your chest.
Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Stressed? Or maybe he's just jealous?" he teased, nudging you playfully.
You shook your head, but the thought stayed with you, making you more aware of Lando's presence and the unspoken tension between you two.
Lando had become quieter, often lost in thought, and his usual easygoing demeanor seemed replaced by something more intense. He would catch your eye during team meetings, holding your gaze a moment longer than necessary, and his subtle glances were filled with unspoken questions.
Even his interactions with others had changed; he was more curt and less engaged, almost as if his focus was always drawn back to you, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
You decided you would talk to him about it when you got the time, but for now, you had to focus on the photoshoot. The next session was crucial, and you couldn't afford any distractions.
As you adjusted to your position on the set and faced Marcus for the next photo, you couldn't help but feel Lando's eyes on you, adding an extra layer of intensity to the already charged atmosphere.
Lando's behavior was undeniably affecting your concentration. Each time you felt his gaze, a wave of nervous energy surged through you, making it difficult to maintain your usual composure.
The tension was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this unspoken connection might either elevate your performance to new heights or completely unravel your focus.
You weren't able to talk to him properly in the ride home because you fell asleep in the car and then you woke up the next day.
The drive home from the event had been long and tiring. You had spent the entire day posing and socialising, and by the time you got into the car, you could barely keep your eyes open.
As the car pulled out of the parking lot, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.
When you finally opened your eyes, the car was parked in the driveway, and the sun was peeking through the curtains.
You had completely missed the ride home and the opportunity to continue your conversation with Lando. Feeling disappointed, you made a mental note to reach out today and pick up where you had left off.
As you got ready for the day, you couldn't help but replay the events of the previous evening in your mind. You had been looking forward to spending more time with him, and the missed opportunity weighed heavily on you.
As you stumbled into the kitchen, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Lando was already awake, sitting at the table with a cup in hand, his eyes lifting to meet yours as you entered the room.
"Morning," he greeted, a small but warm smile playing on his lips.
"Morning," you replied, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. He had already prepared a cup for you, which you gratefully accepted.
"Thanks for the coffee," you said, taking a sip and feeling the warmth spread through you. There was a brief silence as you both sipped your drinks, and then you took a deep breath.
"About yesterday... I feel like there's something we need to talk about."
You could see him freeze at your words. "Really? Um, not now. You're going to be late for work," he said, making an excuse as he glanced at the clock on the wall.
His sudden shift in demeanor made you hesitate, but you knew this conversation was important, and you couldn't let it slide.
"I understand, but this is something that can't wait," you insisted gently, setting your cup down on the table.
"We need to clear the air, Lando. It's been affecting me, and I think it's affecting you too."
His eyes softened slightly, and he nodded, realizing that delaying the conversation wouldn't make the tension disappear.
His eyes widened at your words, but he nodded slowly. "I promise, when we get time, we'll talk," he said, his voice softer now.
"I just want us to be in the right mind space for it. I know it’s important, and I don’t want to rush through it before work."
You appreciated his honesty and the promise of a future conversation, but the weight on your chest remained.
"I understand," you replied, giving him a small smile. "But remember, Lando, we can’t keep pushing this aside. It’s something we both need to address sooner rather than later."
He gave a reassuring nod and squeezed your hand briefly before you both continued with your morning routines, the unspoken words lingering in the air before leaving the house.
You thought you would talk today, but that wasn't true.
As soon as Lando brought you back home from work, he immediately left, saying he had to go check out a new sim practice.
You knew it was an excuse, and the unresolved tension gnawed at you as you watched him leave, realizing this conversation was going to be harder than you both anticipated.
You felt a mix of frustration and sadness settle over you as the door closed behind him. The avoidance only made the issue seem larger in your mind, and you couldn't help but worry about the growing distance between you.
Determined to find a way to address it, you resolved to bring it up again tomorrow, no matter how difficult it might be. . . .
──── ⋆★⋆ ──── ・ 。゚☆ : *. ☽ .* : ☆゚. ──── ⋆★⋆ ────
Yesterday was a fail, and you felt the distance between you and Lando only widening. As you immersed yourself more deeply in your modeling career, you found solace in the creative process, even as it distracted you from the unresolved issues at home.
Meanwhile, Lando seemed to be filling the void by engaging more with the girls around him, their laughter and chatter a constant reminder of the growing gap in your relationship.
The contrast between your focused, solitary work and his increasingly social behavior was stark, and it left you feeling isolated and uncertain.
You couldn't help but replay the missed opportunities for conversation in your mind, each one adding to your sense of frustration. Despite your busy schedules, the silence between you both was deafening, and the lack of communication weighed heavily on your heart.
Determined not to let another day slip by without addressing the issue, you resolved to confront Lando as soon as you two returned home, knowing that continuing to avoid the conversation would only deepen the rift between you.
When you and Lando arrived at the workplace, she quickly made her way to you, "Y/N! Terrible news!"
"What happened?" you asked, a sense of dread creeping up your spine.
"Marcus got into a car accident!" Sarah exclaimed, her voice laced with worry. Your heart sank as the news hit you.
"Oh no, is he alright?" you asked, your mind racing with concern.
Sarah shook her head saying, "He's hurt and has to stay in the hospital for a week."
"Which means for this week, you'll need a new partner for the photoshoot," Sarah sighed. "We'll find you one soon, don't worry," she added, trying to reassure you.
You nodded, though your thoughts were still scattered. "Thanks, Sarah. I hope Marcus recovers quickly," you said, forcing a smile.
Thankfully the theme today was the feeling of being lovesick, which was ironically what you were feeling for Lando, so you didn't have to pretend.
As you stood on the set, you got into your position, expressing the yearning and heartache you had been experiencing through your face expression. Each picture was resonated with the depth of your emotions, as if you were pouring your very soul into this.
Everyone on the set was captivated, their eyes fixed on you, mesmerized by the raw vulnerability you displayed. You could feel the connection, the shared understanding of the pain and joy that come with being in love.
It was as if you had opened a window into your heart, and they were peering in, relating to your every movement.
As the final photoshoot faded, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Lando, your heart racing with a mix of hope and trepidation.
"Wow Y/N! You made your facial expression look so real, are you sure you haven't experienced some heartbreak recently?" Sarah joked, her eyes twinkling with a hint of curiosity.
You forced a chuckle, but your gaze betrayed you as it drifted toward Lando, who was busy reviewing the shots with Tom. "Just good acting, I guess," you replied, trying to mask the turmoil bubbling inside.
Lando glanced up at that moment, catching your eye for the briefest second before returning to the screen. The unspoken words between you felt like a chasm, growing wider with each passing day.
Jordan then came over later and accessed everyone's pictures like he always does and he was seriously impressed with yours.
"Y/N, I think you should sign yourself up to be a real model!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.
You blushed, feeling a mix of pride and embarrassment. "Really? You think I'm that good?" you asked, trying to gauge if he was serious or just being polite.
"Absolutely," Jordan said firmly. "The emotion you conveyed in these shots is something I rarely see, even in seasoned professionals. You have a real talent, Y/N. Don't let it go to waste."
You smiled, a genuine one this time, appreciating his encouragement. "Thanks, Jordan. Maybe I will consider it," you replied, feeling a newfound confidence bubbling within you.
As he walked away, you threw another glance at Lando, wondering if he too had noticed the depth of your performance.
"So I was thinking of experimenting with a new style," Sarah explained, excitement dancing in her eyes. "I was thinking of copying the style of a face being covered by lipstick kisses, giving the effect of being truly loved."
"But there is one problem," she added, her tone turning slightly hesitant.
"What is it?" you asked, curiosity piqued.
"You don't have a partner to place the kisses on you," Sarah admitted, looking slightly apologetic.
You bit your lip, contemplating her words. Just then, Jordan approached, having overheard the conversation. "I could help with that," he offered, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of happiness.
Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion. "Are you sure?" you asked, trying to keep your voice even.
Jordan nodded, grinning. "Yeah, I'm sure. Let's make this shoot unforgettable."
Sarah's face fell slightly, the excitement dimming in her eyes as she processed Jordan's offer. She had secretly hoped that Lando would step up, imagining how perfect the photos could be with him as the one placing the kisses.
There was an unspoken chemistry between you and Lando that she thought would translate beautifully through the lens.
However, seeing Jordan's eager grin, she forced a smile, not wanting to dampen the mood.
"Thanks, Jordan," Sarah said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "That would be great." She glanced at Lando, who remained engrossed in his screen, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.
A pang of disappointment tugged at her heart, but she quickly shook it off.
"Alright, let's get started," she continued, clapping her hands together. "This is going to be an amazing shoot."
Unknown to you and Sarah, Lando had been listening to the entire conversation, his eyes never leaving his screen but his ears tuned in to every word. He had felt a surge of jealousy and frustration when he heard Jordan volunteer.
Lando had wanted to step up, to be the one who would place those lipstick kisses on you, but hesitation had rooted him to his seat. Now, he was annoyed at himself for not acting sooner and at Jordan for taking what he secretly desired.
As Sarah and Jordan prepared for the shoot, Lando's mind raced with conflicting emotions. He couldn't focus on his work, the images of you and Jordan together clouding his thoughts.
He clenched his jaw, feeling a wave of regret wash over him. Unable to bring himself to look at you, he stared at his screen, wishing he had the courage to tell you how he really felt.
"Okay, you just have to put lipstick on and then you kiss her all over," Sarah instructed, showing them a picture of an example on her iPad.
Jordan studied the image and nodded, his confidence unwavering. He picked up a tube of lipstick and began applying it, a playful smile forming on his lips.
As Jordan leaned in closer to you, you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. "Ready?" he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.
You nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach.
Jordan then kissed just above your collarbone, and your breath hitched from the contact. The sensation was both surprising and exhilarating, sending a shiver down your spine.
You tried to stay composed, focusing on the camera and the task at hand, but the intimacy of the moment made it difficult. Sarah, ever the professional, continued to direct the shoot, her voice a steady anchor in the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you.
Lando, watching from a distance, felt his chest tighten with a mix of longing and frustration. Each kiss Jordan placed on your skin felt like a blow to his own heart. He wanted to be the one sharing that moment with you, to feel the connection he knew was there.
But instead, he was a silent spectator, his jealousy growing with each passing second.
Finally, unable to take it any longer, he stood up abruptly and walked out of the room, leaving behind a trail of unresolved feelings.
You noticed Lando's sudden departure out of the corner of your eye, and a pang of confusion and concern hit you. His abrupt exit left a tangible void in the room, distracting you momentarily from the shoot.
You couldn't help but wonder what had driven him away so suddenly, and the thought lingered in your mind, intertwining with the emotions already stirred by Jordan's closeness.
"Um, can I have a couple of minutes to myself?" you asked, glancing over to where Lando went.
The crew exchanged puzzled looks but nodded, granting you the brief reprieve you needed. As you stepped out of the room, you could feel Jordan's eyes following you, a mix of curiosity and concern etched on his face.
You found Lando in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his head bowed. "Lando, are you okay?" you asked softly, approaching him hesitantly.
He looked up, his eyes filled with a tumult of emotions. "I... I just needed a moment," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Let's talk in my dressing room," you said, taking his hand gently. He hesitated for a moment but then allowed you to lead him down the hallway.
The silence between you was heavy, filled with unspoken words and feelings. Once inside, you closed the door behind you, creating a small space of privacy amidst the chaos outside.
"Lando, what's going on?" you asked, your voice soft but insistent.
He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze. "It's just... seeing you with Jordan," he began, his voice strained. "I know it's just a shoot, but it feels real, and it hurts. I care about you more than I should, and watching him be close to you, it's driving me crazy."
The raw vulnerability in his eyes mirrored the turmoil you felt inside, making it clear that this conversation was long overdue.
"Does this have to do with the conversation we're supposed to have?" you asked gently, your voice a mixture of concern and curiosity. Lando nodded, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I've been wanting to tell you for a while now, but I didn't know how. Every time I see you with someone else, it just reminds me of how much I need to say this," he confessed, his voice trembling slightly.
You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. "Lando, you can tell me anything. I care about you too," you reassured him, your hand reaching out to touch his arm.
He took another deep breath, his eyes searching yours for any hint of rejection. "I know this might complicate things, but I can't keep it to myself anymore. I love you, and seeing you with Jordan today made me realize I can't just stand by and watch. I needed you to know," he said, his voice raw with emotion.
Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of Lando's words settled over you. You felt a mix of shock, relief, and an overwhelming surge of emotion. "Lando, I..." you began, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to process his heartfelt confession.
How could Lando possibly have feelings for you? He had always been drawn to blondes with striking, model-like figures, and you were the complete opposite of that ideal.
Every time you saw him at parties or events, he was surrounded by women who fit that mold perfectly.
So why now, and why you?
Was he just saying this because he was caught up in the moment, or did he truly see something in you that you couldn't see in yourself? Your mind raced with questions, each one more incredulous than the last.
Why would he choose you when he could have anyone he wanted? Was it possible that he saw beyond the superficial, that he appreciated the depth of your connection and the moments you shared?
The thought seemed almost surreal, making you question whether this was some kind of elaborate joke or misunderstanding.
Yet, the sincerity in his eyes left little room for doubt. Did he really see something in you that he had overlooked in others? Could it be that beneath his polished exterior, he was searching for something more genuine, something real?
The questions swirled in your mind, leaving you teetering on the edge of disbelief and cautious hope.
You loved him, but you didn't know if you could believe him or not. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, that made you want to trust him completely.
But a part of you couldn't help but wonder if he was being completely honest.
You had been hurt before, and the thought of going through that pain again was almost too much to bear. But the way he made you feel, the way he made your heart race, was something you had never experienced before.
You wanted to believe him, to give him your whole heart, but the fear of being betrayed was always lurking in the back of your mind.
"You don't have to answer right now," Lando started gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "I just needed you to know how I feel. I've been holding this in for so long, and seeing you tonight, I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."
"I love you too," you blurted out, grabbing the collar of his shirt as if to anchor yourself to the moment. His eyes widened in surprise, but then they softened with a warmth that melted your lingering doubts.
"I don't know if this is real or if I'm just dreaming, but I can't deny how I feel. I'm scared, Lando, but I want to trust you. I want to believe that this, what we have, is genuine."
Lando's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy, his eyes sparkling as he pulled you into a tight embrace. "You have no idea how much this means to me," he whispered into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion.
"I promise you, I'll do everything I can to prove that this is real."
"How about you kiss me first?" you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando didn't hesitate for a second. His lips met yours with a fervor that sent a shiver down your spine, as if he was pouring every ounce of his feelings into that single moment.
The world around you faded, leaving only the sensation of his warmth and the certainty that, for now, this was where you both belonged.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and hearts pounding, Lando cupped your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours for any trace of doubt. "Was that convincing enough?" he asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
You nodded, unable to find the words to describe the tumult of emotions swirling within you.
"But what about those girls at the club in Belgium, or the girls here?" you muttered, the insecurity evident in your voice.
Lando giggled softly, shaking his head. "The girls at the club came over to ask if you were my girlfriend because I was staring at you the whole time while DJing," he explained, his eyes never leaving yours. "And I was talking to the girls here because I wanted to find a model agency for you to do this full-time since you look so happy doing this now."
You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your anxieties beginning to dissipate. "Really?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Really," Lando confirmed, his expression sincere. "I want to support you in every way I can. You mean everything to me."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the depth of his commitment. "I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You've always believed in me more than I believed in myself."
Lando smiled, glancing at your neck, "Can I wipe off those kiss marks now? They're really irritating me," he said, unable to look away from them.
You laughed, feeling the tension melt away. "Oh, so now you're suddenly concerned about my appearance?" you teased, brushing a hand gently against his cheek.
"Always," he replied, his tone softening. "I just want everything to be perfect for you." He reached for a tissue, gently dabbing at the lipstick kiss marks Jordan had left.
"Also, I wanted to replace his marks with mine," Lando grinned, tucking his head into your shoulder and placing soft kisses along your neck.
You shivered at the sensation, feeling a mixture of amusement and affection.
"You're impossible," you murmured, tilting your head to give him better access. His playful yet tender gestures made your heart swell, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for his unwavering support.
"Impossible but irresistible, right?" he teased, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze. You nodded, unable to suppress a smile.
"Okay, maybe a little," you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Just a little?" he asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously. "I think I can do better than that."
Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss that made your knees weak. "How about now?" he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and intoxicating.
You giggled, feeling your cheeks flush. "Alright, a lot," you confessed, playfully tugging at his collar.
"Good," he murmured, closing the distance between you, "because I plan to be irresistible for a very long time."
"Well, you certainly have my attention," you flirted back, tracing a finger along his jawline. "Think you can handle it?"
Lando's eyes sparkled with mischief as he tightened his hold on you. "Oh, I think I'll manage," he replied, his voice low and seductive. "After all, I have a lifetime to perfect my technique."
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, causing both of you to jump. Lando instinctively held you tighter, his protective instincts kicking in.
"Who could that be?" he whispered, his brow furrowing as he reluctantly pulled away from your embrace. You quickly straightened your clothes and exchanged a curious glance with him before moving towards the door.
As you opened it, Sarah stood there, looking somewhat sheepish. "Y/N are you okay? You've been here for a while-" she said, her eyes darting between you and Lando. "You know what? Just take your time coming back,"
She closed the door and you turned back to Lando, who was already smirking at you.
"Now, where were we?" he asked, his playful demeanor returning as he stepped closer, making you forget all about the interruption.
You raised an eyebrow, matching his playful energy. "I believe you were about to show me just how irresistible you can be," you teased, stepping closer and running your fingers through his hair. "Think you can pick up where we left off?"
Lando's grin widened as he closed the distance once more, determined to make the most of every moment. . . . .
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monster-match-if · 1 month
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Welcome to Paradise!
A few decades after the mystical veil between the human and supernatural world was shattered there are still efforts done to fully integrate the two societies. What better way to achieve that than an international & interspecies dating show?!
Ten lucky beings are going to be selected for the first ever edition of Monster Match, and embark on a month-long vacation on a tropical island. Follow your heart or mind when making decisions and win the public’s favour. At the end of the month, the fan favourite couple will win a whopping cash prize of €500,000, to keep or split between them.
Couple up, have fun with the various challenges and most importantly stay alive find love!
And beware of what’s lurking in the shadows!
Genre: Reality TV dating show, monster fu- lovers. Love island the game, but with monsters. Strictly 18+!
WIP - some things may still change on the way.
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Play as Male or Female.
Choose to be a Sweetheart, a Charmer or a Flirt.
Have fun or stir up some drama between the other contestants!
Find love or do it all for the money.
Split the prize, or keep it all to yourself… if you win.
Choose between 5 gender selectable ROs and two male partial ROs.
Try to figure out what's happening to the eliminated contestants or ignore the gnawing feeling.
Entirely choice based, the stats are there for flavor text. This is an excuse to write monster, ermm, loving content. The story is rated 18+ and will contain NSFW and maybe some gore along with other dubious things. There will be fade to black options and skippable scenes as well as preference options and some pretty tame and sweet routes, but why are you here if monsters are not your thing? Read at your own discretion!
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Morgan → Vampire🦇 - M/F - 6’  Tall and pale, with dark hair and crimson eyes, and an infuriating naturally gorgeous body. Always has the hair styled neatly and preferes classy clothes. An incurable flirt. Expect: Blood and biting related activities. Not particularly loyal.
Elindorn / Eli → Deep forest elf 🏹 (basically a drow) - M/F - 5'7 / 6'4  Tall with an athletic swimmer’s body. Dusty lilac skin, long milky white hair and pale silver eyes that seem to look into your soul. Expect: actually… the most well adjusted of the bunch. Elves mate for life.
The bombshell - Blake → Incubus/ Succubus🌶️- obviously M/F - 5’8/ 6’4  Deep brown skin, short curly black hair and vivid blue eyes. Horns and tail in their “true” form. Skimpy clothes to attract potential vict- partners. Expect: open relationship, multiple partners, life… sucking?
Kitai → Kitsune 🦊- M/F - 5'5 / 5'11 (Casa Amor contestant) The shortest of the group, but the most attentive and ready to please. Ivory skin, long jet black hair and yellow eyes.  Expect: probably the sweetest, most wholesome route, tails - nine of them.
Fionnlagh / Fion → Cecaelia 🐙 (yes, tentacles) - M/F - 5'6 / 6'3 (Casa Amor contestant)  Tanned skin, long wavy red hair, and green eyes. Eight crimson tentacles in their “true” form. Expect: foursome options, but otherwise tentacles and fun, dubious consent-ish if you squint.
Partial ROs
Ragnar → Werewolf 🐺 - M - 6’9/ 8' when in werewolf form Only RO available strictly to F MC and only one who will break up with MC if they cheat or don't have the same views. Tall and built like a mountain, with lightly tanned skin, brown hair and beard and kind brown eyes. Covered in tattoos. Expect: *sigh* knotting, breeding, bestialityithink??
Seishish  - Sei  → naga 🐍 (yes 2 🍆) - M - 6'2 / 11' long with tail out  The Host - not being a contestant will limit interactions in the first half of the story, but he is also an endgame RO. Rich olive skin with a golden hue, long wavy platinum blonde hair, hazel snake eyes. Gains a lot of length in trier half-snake form, the tail an iridescent golden colour. Expect: dubious consent-ish if you squint, ovo…ovi… the eggpreg thing.
Other OG contestants
Warlock/human - Gael - M Human - Kat - F Siren - Oralla - F Fairy - Feyre - F (original name, I know) Angel - Arael - F Demon Azrorath - M
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Demo coming soon
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 6 months
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V ║Raw Edge
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Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Part IV: Notch | Behind the Seams: Part V | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E, a proper E!
Summary: One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.
Warnings: Sexual tension, some language, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, flirting, fingering, explicit grinding, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N
Word count: 2k
Notes: It's been a long and winding road y'all, but I'm finally back with an update on the main series. It is a short one, more of an interlude, but it will get us where we need to go for the next chapter. Thank you for your patience, I don't take you guys' understanding and love for granted for even a second. Releasing this during the Seams sleepover, more drabbles coming your way for the remaining month of March!
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Raw edge - the raw, raveling, and unfinished, cut edge of the fabric.
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It’s fitting that Joel is a patient man. He’s built for it, after all.
Those broad shoulders, the sturdy thighs, his sure hands - he’s steadfast as the mountains that loom over Jackson.
As the sun shifts over the ridges and valleys of the sierra through the seasons, bringing shadows into light, so does Jackson on Joel, and you learn that he’s many kinds of patient.
On lookout duty, even in the depths of winter, he becomes one with the stillness of the night, patiently watching over the safety of the town in the loneliest hours.
When townsfolk stop him on the high street for neighbourly chit chat, he obliges with polite patience, never rushing, but careful not to encourage conversation that is longer than necessary.
With Ellie, when she prattles on with a long-winded story from school, he listens with amused patience, letting her run her half-full mouth over dinner with half-hearted admonishment.
And with you - he is agonisingly patient with you, and yet, never in a way that leaves any doubt of his want for you.
You cannot be more grateful.
And in turn, you’re patient with him. As the green of summer softens with the tail end of the season, you pick up bits and pieces. You hear whispers of names. Tess. Bill. You glimpse ghosts of his past. Sarah. Frank.
You don’t expect him to, but you have the audacity to hope, that one day, if he finds it in him to let you in, you have shoulders to spare.
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When the heat fades and the brisk autumnal chill starts to linger in the morning mist, you start to find that you like it when he’s not patient.
Not necessarily for the lack of patience thereof, but the fact that it’s worn thin by something else.
The way heat bleeds into his eyes when Lucy holds you up after your shift ends, fingers twitching, as if the caveman in him wants to grab you and drag you home, where you have planned on dinner - and more.
When you’re two bodies tangled in your sheets, breath short as he kisses his way down your neck and nips the underside of your breasts, bra cups pushed up only halfway because you’re still too shy to take it off completely. You feel him shudder, nails digging into your skin, nostrils flaring like he’s holding back from ripping the scant fabric off of you.
And late one evening, when you ask him for it, in heated whispers and your lower lip caught in your teeth, he oh so patiently works his fingers inside your wet heat - 
One, then two; 
Slow, then fast; 
Tender, then frantic - 
Until he feels you clench tight around the crook of his fingers for the first time, watch you arch clean off the bed, he bares his teeth and lets out a primal growl at the cry of his name on your swollen lips.
You find the thrill in getting under Joel Miller’s skin.
As the fall deepens, and trees start to shed in golden surrender, you’re caught off guard when he turns the table on you.
You don’t see it coming, your desperation, that lazy afternoon. It’s just another Saturday when Ellie is on her shift at the Outfitter with Lucy, and Joel is spending those free hours with you.
You’re not sure what got him into the mood, but the man is relentlessly teasing that afternoon, almost bratty in the way he toys with you. His hands go everywhere while you’re cooking, squeezing the swell of your ass then going north to cup your breasts, and stopping off everywhere in between.
Tips of your ears burning, you smack the back of his hands - so big and mapped with veins - just so you can get drain the pasta. Joel chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth. ‘I like it when you’re bossy, sweetheart.’
He insists on eating on the sofa, with you between his legs, and you can feel him already hard and straining through his jeans. Neither of you really make a real go at the rapidly cooling marinara, and the plates are quickly pushed to the side as them meal degenerates into a full-blown make out session.
Not yet ready to let him strip you bare or for him to disrobe him completely, clothes hang half unbuttoned and unzipped on you both. The part of your brain that still has enough blood to reason likes it though - the demure flashes of skin under creased fabric, blindly touching and feeling where you can’t see.
Your jeans are pushed halfway down your thighs, bra pushed down under your breasts, the elastic straps digging into your shoulders. His shirt is open down to the second last button, bare chest rubbing against your nipples, the contact making you whine. His belt hangs open and his jeans are unzipped, but before you can reach down, his fingers slide inside your panties, twisted and sticky, teasing your wet folds. 
‘Joel,’ you whimper as he pushes two thick fingers inside you to the knuckle, your pussy slickly opening around him. 
‘Does that feel good, sweetheart?’ he asks, mouthing at your collarbone.
‘More,’ you gasp.
‘I got two in you already -’
Your voice cracks in a sob, your nails digging into his back. ‘Joel, I want more. Please.’
He glances at the clock ticking away on the wall and hesitates. The rational part of him knows that he has to leave in less than twenty minutes to pick up Ellie. But feeling you leak onto his fingers, pushing your hips against him to get his fingers even deeper, his cock twitches painfully hard in his pants.
He breathes through his nose to steady himself. ‘Sweetheart, we don’t have time -‘
‘Joel!’ you whine, almost petulantly.
He stares down at you, eyes wide at your desperation. He’s never seen you like this before, and fuck, he wants to give it to you. Wants to give you what you want, what he wants. What he’s wanted for long fucking months, woken up hard and throbbing dreaming about. But he steels himself - no, not when he’s on the clock, he won’t rush it. He will give you what you deserve, and not an ounce less. 
So he kisses you, long and deep, and bargains with you. ‘Listen, sweetheart, we can’t right now - but if you want to, we can try something new.’
‘Ok,’ you reply without hesitation.
A sharp breath catches in your throat when he eases his fingers out of you, and he brings them up to his mouth to lick them clean, his brow furrowing at your taste, thick on his tongue. Then you watch, transfixed, as he pushes his unzipped jeans down with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles - and his hard cock springs free of its confines. 
It’s taken you many months to drum up the bravery to map his body with your touch, and you’ve mostly done so in the safety of darkness, your shyness holding you back. To see all of him, jutting hard and thick in the stark afternoon light, you don’t even hear yourself whimper at the sight.
Joel holds your gaze as he slowly wraps his fingers around the swollen length and strokes himself, lips parted, watching you watch him. ‘You trust me, sweetheart?’
‘Yes.’
‘Gonna make you feel good, ok?’
His words make you squirm beneath him. ‘Ok.’
Grabbing the base of his cock, Joel shifts, looming over you and pushing your thighs apart so they’re bent at the knees to accommodate him. Then with a delicate finger, he traces under the seat of your panties and pulls them to one side, baring your spread pussy to his eyes. 
Your jaw goes slack the same time Joel bites out a filthy fuck. You know this is the first time he’s laying eyes on you there - you’ve been demure about that, preferring to be nose-to-nose with him while he buries his fingers inside you. But now, watching his eyes go black, nostrils flaring, an inexplicable high goes to your head, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.
His eyes fly to yours, and your lips part. Did he see that?
Before you can find out, Joel moves, and you hold your breath when he bows his head right where your legs are splayed open. Distracted by the beautiful chisel of his nose from this angle, you would’ve jumped right off the couch if not for his hands holding you in place when he dribbles spit onto your clit.
You cry out wordlessly, not understanding the visceral reaction of your body to the unexpectedly lewd act.
‘You’re plenty wet for me sweetheart, but this will feel even better,’ he says, spitting again, lower this time, and you tremble at the unfamiliar sensation of the wetness trailing down your folds. 
Tracing a thumb over you, Joel makes a low noise of satisfaction in his chest when it glides over your lips, frictionless. Taking a hold of the base of his cock, he positions the underside of his length in the seam of your folds - and thrusts. 
‘Joel!’ you whimper as the full length of him glides over the lips of your spit-wet pussy, from entrance to clit. He braces himself over you, and you hang onto his impossibly broad shoulders as he carefully rolls his hips, again and again. Rubbing along you just so, making sure you feel all of him despite not being inside you - that will have to wait.
You can feel your panties getting wetter, sticking to your skin, and Joel jolts a gasp from you when he roughly tugs the fabric hard to the side, baring more of you to his drunken gaze, witnessing the mess he’s making of you.
‘Listen t’ you,’ he slurs through gritted teeth, the lewd, wet slide of skin filling his ears. ‘Gonna sound even sweeter when I make you mine, sweetheart.’
With a whine, you arch off the couch, as if chasing the possessiveness in his words. Joel finds a rhythm that has the swollen head of his cock grinding against your clit with every thrust, and above you, he smears open-mouthed kisses over the secret spots he’s patiently unearthed by trial and error, until you’re shaking all over. It’s just what you needed, what you wanted - the elusive more that you didn’t know how to articulate. More than his fingers, but not yet ready to take everything that he can give you.
‘You’re close,’ Joel says, a quiet confidence to his verdict that coaxes a whine out of you. Holding a thumb over his cock, it presses even harder against your clit. His hips quicken in pace, and you know he’s chasing his own release as much as yours. 
‘It’s ok sweetheart, you can let go, let me feel you cum for me, let me feel that pretty pussy -’
And then you’re gone. Any illusion of control over your body is just that, an illusion, when the bubble bursts. White hot pleasure burns through your bloodstream, tendrils of heat blooming and swelling from deep inside you, spilling out your fingertips twisted tightly into his graying curls. 
Over the rush of blood in your ears, you hear Joel stutter fuck, fuck, fuck! before warm cum gushes over you, pooling in your belly button, spilling down your pussy and streaking your thighs. 
Limbs heavy and eyelids drooping, it’s hard to care when the cum stains your panties or the couch below. Not when Joel wraps his arms around you, lips brushing the nape of your neck softly as he brackets you from behind. 
Clinging onto the last vestiges of consciousness, you murmur, ‘You have to pick up Ellie soon.’
He grunts. ‘The little punk can wait.’
You smile, struggling to feel apologetic that the teenager might be waiting a while as Joel’s breathing slows, whistling softly by your ear. 
In the quiet aftermath, his words echo in your head. 
When I make you mine. 
Little does he know, he doesn’t have to - you’re already his.
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Notes: Time has really flown by since the last main series update. I've gone through so many ups and downs since, and I really need to thank you guys for giving me the time to figure things out in terms of my writing and how this story will go!
As I mentioned in Behind the Seams: Part V, I have 2 more full length chapters planned for the main series. I don't know if there will be any more after that, but at the very least, I hope that I will be adding to the Seams universe through drabbles and oneshots. I wouldn't write off the possibility of more chapters to add to the main series if I find the inspiration.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️
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elllisaaa · 5 days
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ateez when their s/o gives them cutness aggression
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-> words count : 963 words
-> genre : fluff
-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> author's note : @mjilv gave me the idea of doing an ateez version so here it is ! hope you'll like it !
-> masterlist | ateez masterlist
svt version | ateez version
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KIM HONGJOONG
cause of the aggression : hongjoong coming home very sleepy after a long day working at the studio.
actually, it’s more the way he latches on you as soon as he spots you that melts your heart.
you immediately wrap your arms around him and bury your nose in his hair, then you leave a string of kisses on the crown of his head. 
even after so many hours working, he still smells so good and you’re a little jealous. 
and hongjoong is too tired to try and stop you from doing your thing, on the contrary, he relaxes even more in your embrace, quietly humming in satisfaction.
“how was your day joongie ?”
“so much better now that I’m with you.”
PARK SEONGHWA
cause of the aggression : seonghwa proudly showing off the new lego set he just built. 
you had always thought that your boyfriend’s passion for lego was endearing, but the way he always seeks out your approval on everything he adds to his collection makes you want to keep him with you forever. 
so instead of paying attention to the piece in his hands, you squish his cheeks and kiss his lips repeatedly instead. 
seonghwa whines a few times, asking you what you are doing but honestly, he loves the affection so he quickly shuts up.
“now, what were you saying, baby ?”
“i’m not sure i wanna talk about legos now. can you kiss me again instead ?”
JEONG YUNHO
cause of the aggression : you know the golden retriever energy he has ? yeah, that is enough.
because why does his whole face light up when he finds you in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, showing off the new ice cream flavors he’s been wanting to try. 
and you don’t care that you’re in public because you just need to show him that you love him.
so you grab his arm and stand on your tippy toes to be able to kiss his cheeks as many times as you want.
and yunho’s giggles as you do it don’t help calm you down.
“what was that for ?”
“don’t act like you don’t know how cute you are, jeong yunho.”
KANG YEOSANG
cause of the aggression : you know the way he’s looking above himself sometimes ? that is literally the cutest thing ever wtf ???
so when you pass behind the couch and your boyfriend does that, you cannot help the urge to bend down and leave a trail of kisses along his forehead.
yeosang sometimes doesn’t understand you, but he loves your kisses so he lets you do your thing. 
when you finally let him go, you notice his red ears, and you chuckle lightly before giving him a real kiss on the lips.
“i’m never getting used to this.”
“good, i want you to be surprised everytime i come out of nowhere to give you affection.”
CHOI SAN
cause of the aggression : san pouting at you because you don’t want to sleep with him due to the unbearable heat of the summer. 
you were already sweating like crazy, and you didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night all sticky because your boyfriend wasn’t able to keep his hands off of you.
but the way he was pleading you with his whole face was too cute to ignore. 
so you simply sighed as you settled in his arms again and went to kiss his pouty lips. and as soon as you were done with your attack, san was all smiley again.
“you’re such a child.”
“maybe, but you love me.”
SONG MINGI
cause of the aggression : his big smile, the one that makes me want to kill myself because he’s too fucking pretty for this world. 
when he’s smiling like that, it’s already hard to manage, but when that smile is directed at you, it’s impossible to pass on the opportunity to kiss his whole face.
so you don’t hesitate to cup his face in your hands and press your lips against every inch of his skin.
and his smile doesn’t leave him as you go on, his own hands going down to grab your waist.
as soon as you’re done, he’s pressing a kiss to your own lips, and his eyes are filled with love.
“i really don’t deserve you.”
“you do mingi, you deserve the world.”
JUNG WOOYOUNG
cause of the aggression : we all know how cute he is when he’s taking care of kids so seeing him be all lovey dovey with your little cousins makes your heart flutter. 
as soon as wooyoung said his goodbyes to the little girl because you had to go, you’re all over him.
he doesn’t understand what’s happening, and he’s whiny at the beginning, trying to push you off of him.
but he progressively gives up on his plan and simply lets you do your thing. 
and when you finally let him go - and breathe some fresh air - he cannot hide his cheeky smile.
“something’s wrong with you, i swear.”
“as if you’re not just as crazy !”
CHOI JONGHO
cause of the aggression : once again, the smile. like, his big gummy smile… killing myself again.
no but how can you resist him when he’s smiling at you like that ?? you can’t ! 
so even if he didn’t ask for this, you kiss his face as many times as you can before jongho starts to protest. 
but both of you know that it’s only to try and keep his composure, because he loves it when you’re showering him with your love like that.
but he has a reputation to hold (he has none but you let him believe it because he’s cute).
“all of that just because of my smile ?”
“don’t play dumb ! you know very well how weak i am !”
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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ateez taglist (fill in this to added) :
@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @heevllog @lichyuu @foxinnie8 @lovelyuyu
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hybbart · 9 months
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The hosts of the games (minus Grian, who hosted 3rd life himself) Each one was hosted by a watcher inspired by the original game to host their own.
lore below
The Boogieman (he/she) loves bloodsports and the drama of betrayal, so she created a game in which curses were bestowed upon players (some more permanent than others) and gave them the ability to gain and lose more hearts in order to encourage violence. He hosted Last Life after seeing how Grian's game ended and wanted more red life drama.
The Spinner (they/them) loves the relationship drama and tragedy of the games, so made a mechanic to pair up the players. Their favourite biome is the Ancient City because of its horror movie (the true romantic genre supposedly) like atmosphere, so they built the arena atop one. They cursed golden apples to break bonds and put them in the game hoping at least one of the pairs would participate int he drama of consuming them, but the planned failed to their annoyance.
The Clockmaker (any) is a control freak who interfered the most forwardly with their games. They wanted the most chances possible for stories and gaming, so created a mechanic to allow for more deaths and strategies. They ended up breaking Limited Life more often than not with their strange mechanics. They wanted a centrepiece to their arena similar in danger to the pillager outpost Double Life incidentally had, but broke it while attempting to make resources more plentiful to minimize time resource gathering.
The Secret Keeper (it/its) wanted to create a more relaxed game with more ridiculous and silly situations, so inserted itself into the game to hand out tasks to do instead of mull around until the players kill each other and mechanics to discourage hurting each other directly. It doesn't care for the drama the others before it loved so much, and didn't both maintaining the curses Boogieman placed leading to some of them breaking.
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wroteclassicaly · 6 days
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18+
Steve calling you from work, a low rasp curled around that dripping, honey hot tone of his. It slaps you in the belly, finding its home - warm and slick between your legs.
“I need your pussy.”
“Steve,” you make your arguing case, but you can’t deny how you’re already tightening your thighs together, how you’re staring past the living room book-shelve just thinking about it.
“Yeah, honey? Fuck, I’m stocking some tapes in the back. You wanna start touching yourself a little for me?” There’s a breaking pause, a few deep breaths that you can imagine him shrugging into, and then he’s speaking as if his mouth is covering the phone piece in a rather crude manner.
“On second thought, don’t touch yourself. I wanna be the first to feel how wet you’ve gotten.”
“You’re at work, Harrington.” You’re scolding, even unconvinced by how out of it you already sound. You can practically hear that smirk on the other end of the line.
“Lucky for me and you, I just went on my lunch hour.”
You know that you want to, you’re well aware that he needs you to. But it’s fun to play with him a little. “Do you even have a condom on you? Last I checked, you needed to make a drug store trip.”
He doesn’t bite the playful line, instead, he rides in on a mischievous one and delivers you a golden platter offer. You picture him right now, one hand on his hip, breathing heavily, tongue poking from the side of his mouth, one arm elongated to prop against the paneled wall. He speaks with molten precision, making you choke on a whine.
“Let me finger you for a little bit? Please? It’s what I’ve been thinking about all day. Just gotta touch you.” He can tell how shakily your breathing has gotten, images of that wet patch soaking your underwear begin to overtake him. He whines, throat muscles tightening as he tries to hold it back. Licking his lips, he continues. “Make you cum, kiss your pretty little neck. And when I get home, you can use me as your personal trampoline.”
“Oh, god. Steve, I —“
“ — You’ll see me in ten minutes?”
“Five. I’ll meet you in the storage closet.”
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It took you approximately four minutes to drive from your home to Family Video, and twenty seconds to get out of your seatbelt and into the building. Steve was waiting to your right, immediately closing in behind you to flip the closed sign, not bothering with the door lock as he guided you with a massive palm to the storage closet. Once you were inside, he lifted you around the waist onto your tiptoes, always strong enough to make you feel as tiny waisted as his former flames. You aren’t a bigger girl, not with him, you are Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, you are a woman, no size in mind, and he can never seem to keep his hands off you. He’s already burrowing into your neck, helping you find purchase against the small table stand, his shoes scuffing across the cheap flooring below.
His cologne blends in with the delicious spice of his work day sweat, stains underneath his arms on his polo. You toss a hand around his neck to hold on, opening your legs as he works with precision to get your jeans and panties down around your knees. His palm glides along the plush over your overflowing belly, giving a soft rub, encouraging by your mouth when it finds his face and leaves wet kisses all across. His jeans are so tight he feels like he’s going to burst, heart in his throat, ready to explode with love confessions and declarations of worship. Everyday with you, like this, trusting and close, Steve didn’t realize sex could be like this — mutual admiration and pure love, built on years of friendship and trust.
He gets emotional half the time you’re both physical, always finding the foundation that brought you two here. He’s completely gone when you’re whispering, “touch me, please?”
Who is Steve to not oblige? He’s met with such a soaked result that he bucks into your mouth at his temple, apologizing. “You’re wetter than I thought you’d be. You sure you didn’t play with yourself already?”
“You know I didn’t.” It’s you whose mouth has found his jawline, spare hand wrapping around the tendons in his wrist, shivering, driving the pathway. You’re fogged, eyes wet with tears of want and raw desire. “Put your fingers in me. You said you wanted to make me cum, so do it, Steve.”
It’s a quick moving dynamic, mouths pressed, touching, only to part, but remaining pressed together seconds later, drunk on trembling breaths as he goes knuckle deep, and you’re already trying to bounce yourself on his hand, sopping wet noises echoing with panting breaths and heaving chests in the expanse of the space you’re in. He coaxes you to slow down, to feel him give you pleasure. But from the way he’s whining, you aren’t so sure he won’t come from this. And that’s what helps you open up to the second finger, elated into desperation. After a few kisses, he finds your throat to lavish with that hot mouth of his, making better than good on his promise.
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