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cherryxbooo · 9 hours ago

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Not the same anymore

Summary: After ending his three-year-long relationship due to his friend’s influence, Lando tries everything to get his lover back.

Note: I’m back!!! The winner of the poll I set up was loud and clear! I hope all of you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! P.s buckle up this one is a long one!

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

I had been dating Lando for three years, and our relationship was everything I could have ever hoped for. We met at an event, our eyes locking from across the room. He was so handsome, his smile blinding, and I knew right then that I had to talk to him. Except I was too shy to approach him. At that moment it felt like the universe heard me and made Lando approach me. We talked all evening long and we hit it off instantly.

From that moment on, we were practically inseparable. We spent hours talking and getting to know each other, our bond growing stronger with every conversation. I still remembered vividly how he had made me laugh until my sides hurt, how he listened with genuine interest to every word I said.

I remembered the excitement and anticipation when he asked me out, the butterflies in my stomach when he first held my hand. It felt like a fairy-tale come true, and I knew from that moment on that he was the one for me. We shared so many moments of joy, of happiness, and even the occasional disagreement, but we always worked through them together.

At first, I tried not to worry, thinking it was just a phase, but the changes in him only became more pronounced. He was less responsive to my texts and calls, and he seemed to prioritize spending time with his friends over me. I felt lonely and confused, unsure of what had caused this sudden shift.

Lando invited me to his place, and I was excited. I thought he was doing just the same, planning to spend some quality time together.

However, as soon as we found ourselves alone, Lando's face was serious, and my heart started to pound. I knew something terrible was about to happen.

Lando sat down next to me, his gaze fixed on the floor. There was a long, heavy silence before he finally spoke.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice almost a whisper.My heart dropped. Those words... they were never good.

I sat there, feeling the dread settling in my stomach. I knew whatever was about to come couldn't be good. Lando took a deep breath, but his face remained serious.

"I think... we need to break up."

I felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Break up? The words hung heavy in the air, and my mind struggled to process them.

"W...what?" I managed to choke out, my voice shaking slightly. "Why, Lando?"

He avoided my gaze, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "It's just... I need to focus on my career right now," he said, his voice robotic, like he was reciting lines. "Being in a relationship is a distraction, and I can't let it interfere with my goals."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was throwing away our three years together with such ease, as if it meant nothing. I tried to reason with him, to remind him of all the happy memories we had shared.

"We've been together for three years!" I said, my voice rising in volume. "Why is it suddenly a problem now?"

"I need to be 100% focused," Lando insisted, finally meeting my eyes. "It's not just about the amount of time, y/n. It's about the current moment, and right now, my career is my priority." He sounded almost cold, like he was pushing me away.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back. How could I mean so little to him, that he would discard our relationship so easily?

"What about us, Lando? What about everything we've been through together?" I pleaded, my voice shaky.

He remained stoic, his expression unchanging. "I'm sorry, y/n," he said, his tone lacking emotion. "But my mind is made up."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It felt as though he was a stranger, a shell of the man I had fallen in love with. “You don’t mean any of it! You’re just stressed.”

Lando seemed to snap. "My friends were right," he said, his tone sharp. "This is for the best. Now, I don't need the distraction of a relationship, and I'm better off without you."

His words felt like a stab in the heart, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I wanted to defend myself, to challenge him, but his friends were the last thing I wanted to bring up.

But I couldn't help it. "Your friends?" I shot back. "They're the worst! All they care about is partying, drinking, and living off your money.”

Lando's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare talk about my friends like that," he snapped, his tone filled with resentment. "They're the ones who are always there to support me, unlike some people."

I couldn't hold back anymore, the emotions boiling over. "Unlike some people? Are you kidding me?" I retorted, my voice cracking. "Who was there for you when you were doubting yourself? Who stayed up late with you, listening to your worries, pushing you to keep going? Wasn't it me?"

He looked stung, but he shook his head, trying to uphold his cold facade. "That's not how things work," he said stiffly. "My career is my top priority, and I don't have time for anything else."

I felt my own anger rising to match his. "So, you're telling me three years of love, support, and understanding mean nothing to you? Just throw it all away for the sake of your career?"

Lando stood up, his face tense. "The decision is made. I don't need a distraction right now, and that's what you are. A distraction." His words felt like a slap in the face.

My heart shattered, each word breaking another piece of it. How could he turn our love into nothing more than a mere bother? How could he talk to me like this? But I couldn't let myself break down fully. Not here, not in front of him. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back tears and keep my composure.

"Fine," I said, my voice cold. "If I'm just a distraction, then go ahead. Focus on your oh-so-important career." I crossed my arms, trying to hide how much his words had hurt me.

"And you know what, Lando?" I continued, my voice rising. "Your friends? They're all using you. They're not true friends; they're just there 'cause you're famous and rich."

Lando's face twisted in anger at my words. "How dare you talk about my friends like that?" he sneered, his tone spiteful. "They're the ones who have supported me through everything. They're true friends, unlike you. Maybe that's why I'm better off without you."

My eyes narrowed. He had crossed a line. How dare he? "At least I never used you. I loved you for you, not for your fame or your money," I shot back.

He laughed, a humorless, bitter laugh. "Love? Please. You only liked being with a famous guy. The attention it brought you, the luxury. Let's not pretend this wasn't also about status for you."

I felt my fist clenching so hard it hurt. "You know that's not true," I said through gritted teeth. "I never cared about your fame or money. I loved who you were, or at least who I thought you were."

"Oh, really?" Lando challenged, his tone sharp. "Then why didn't you ever say no to the fancy parties or designer clothes I bought you? Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

I felt like my chest was tightening with every one of his accusations. How could he twist things like that, making it seem like I only cared about his money? It was so far from the truth. The minute those words left his mouth I knew it was his friends feeding him these lies about me.

"Those were gifts, Lando," I said, my voice cracking. "I loved them because they came from you, not because they were expensive!"

I didn’t let him speak as I grabbed my bag, my hands shaking with emotion. "Fine. Just don't contact me ever again," I said, my voice cold and void of emotion. "This is over. You’re not the same anymore.”

I walked out of his place, my steps heavy and numb. I didn't look back, afraid of seeing him or breaking down in tears. I just wanted to leave, to get away from his words that echoed in my head, and the painful ache in my heart.

As I stepped outside, the fresh air felt like both a relief and a cold slap in the face. I hailed a taxi, and as I watched the familiar streets pass by, I felt as though my old, happy life had shattered into pieces. I had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away for his stupid career. I would never make that mistake again, I promised myself.

Lando sat in his place alone after she left, the silence of his now-empty home weighing heavily on him. He started thinking about the breakup, feeling a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it aside, remembering that he had chosen his career over her. It was for the best, he told himself, repeating what his friends had been telling him.

As the hours passed, the guilt started to fade, numbed by the pain and the alcohol he poured himself. He eventually called his friends, and they eagerly agreed to come over, happy to hear he had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend.

They arrived, with smiles on their faces, their eyes glinting with anticipation. "Finally, you get to live a little without that distraction!" one of them said, slapping Lando's back. "We're gonna party hard tonight, man! You deserve it."

Lando felt himself slipping into a numbing haze, the alcohol dulling his emotions and his conscience. He allowed himself to be guided by his friends, their words like sweet poison, promising him that he was better off without me, that he wouldn't miss her. They started planning their night out at a flashy new club, their enthusiasm infectious in Lando's alcohol-doused state.

Lando found himself nodding along, his resistance fading away with each drink. The idea of partying seemed like a good escape, a way to drown out the guilt and the loneliness. He convinced himself that tonight, he would let loose and forget, throwing himself into the nightlife and the company of his so-called friends.

As the night progressed, Lando found himself increasingly affected by the alcohol he had consumed. The world started blurring at the edges, and his thoughts became a jumbled mess. He grabbed his phone, his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the buttons. After several clumsy taps and misdialed numbers, he finally managed to dial Max's number.

As the call went through, he heard Max Fewtrell answer from the other end. "Lando? What the hell, it's 3 am, are you drunk?"

Lando let out a chuckle, his voice slurred. "Heyyy, Maxxy," he said, his words tripping over themselves. "You sound so grumpy. Come ooon, I need to talk to youeee."

Max sighed, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake the sleep from his voice. "Lando, this better be important. I was trying to sleep, you know." His tone was annoyed, but the concern was evident under the surface.

Lando ignored Max’s tone, his mind swimming with alcohol-induced impulsiveness. "I need to talk, buddy," he said, his words stumbling over each other. "It's about y/n."

Max sat up in his bed, his annoyance fading in the face of Lando's evident distress. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more awake and alert. "Okay, Lando, I'm listening," he said, his voice steady.

Lando took a deep breath, his words slurred. "Max, I messed up, I really messed up," he slurred, his voice cracking. "I broke up with y/n, and man, I feel like crap. I miss her, Max. I miss her, and it... it hurts, Max, it hurts so much." The line of words came out in a jumble, the weight of his emotions too heavy to hide under his inebriated state.

Max let out a sigh, his concern growing with Lando's admission. "Okay, Lando, listen to me. Stay exactly where you are, and for god's sake, don't go anywhere else. Tell me the name of the club, and I'll come get you."

Lando mumbled the name of the club through the phone, his words a bit muffled. "It's... uh, it's called 'The Neon Lights.' It's that new club in town, very fancy. Can't miss the neon lights," he hiccuped.

Max sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, Lando. I'm on my way. Just don't do anything stupid. Just stay put and wait for me." Max quickly got dressed, leaving his bed behind for the task ahead.

Max drove as fast as he could, and reached the club soon. He spotted Lando right away. His best friend was sitting outside, next to a homeless man, laughing loudly in his inebriated state.

Max couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Lando's current predicament. He approached them, giving the homeless man a nod in greeting. "Alright, Lando, let's go," Max said, reaching out to grab Lando by the arm to help him onto his feet.

Lando tried to protest, but his words came out as a muddled mess. "No, wait! I was just having a talk with him!" he argued, hiccuping. He tried to pull away from Max, but his balance was too shaky. "He's a cool guy, Max. Look!" Lando gestured at the homeless man, his movements exaggerated.

Max shook his head, trying to keep his composure. "Lando, stop making a fool of yourself. Let's go, you're coming with me." He gently led Lando away, making sure he didn’t stumble and fall.

By now, a few people from the club were giving them odd looks, amused by the sight of an apparently famous driver being a mess outside. Max just focused on guiding Lando away, thankful no one had recognized him. "Come on, buddy," he said softly, his arms holding him steady.

Lando put up minimal resistance, his limbs heavy and uncooperative. He tried to protest but his words only slurred together, making it impossible to understand. His legs felt like jelly, and he let Max guide him to his car, his head spinning from the alcohol.

Once they reached the car, Max opened the passenger door for Lando, gently guiding him into the seat. Lando slumped in with a groan, his eyes flickering. Max secured Lando's seat belt, making sure he was as safe as he could be in his current state.

As they arrived at Lando's apartment, Max helped Lando out of the car, his feet dragging sluggishly. Walking him to his bed was a challenge, as Lando leaned heavily on Max. With effort, they finally made it to the bedroom, where Lando practically flopped onto his bed, groaning as his head spun.

Max was concerned about Lando, still inebriated and vulnerable. He grabbed some medication and water, placing them on the bedside table for when Lando woke up. He covered Lando with a thin blanket, making sure he wouldn't be cold in the night. He left quietly, making a mental note to check on him in the morning, closing the door softly behind him.

Max returned to Lando's place the next morning, his concern for him still lingering. He used the spare key Lando had given him and let himself inside the apartment. There was a noticeable silence, the aftermath of Lando's excessive drinking still hung heavily in the air.

Max was in the kitchen by the time Lando trudged down, looking half dead from the night before. His hair was tousled, his eyes bloodshot, and his face pale. He groaned as he spotted Max standing by the counter, a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast ready.

Max watched as Lando slumped into a chair, cradling his head in his hands. "What the hell were you thinking, Lando? You were drunk off your ass," Max scolded gently, his voice laced with worry.

Lando winced as he lifted his head, his eyes squint to slits. "I... I don't know. Needed a distraction," he groaned, his voice hoarse. The alcohol had taken its toll, and he felt like death warmed over.

Max sighed, pushing the cup of coffee towards Lando. "There are better ways to distract yourself than getting drunk, Lando. What if the media had found out? You could have jeopardized your entire career."

Max paused, his gaze fixed on Lando’s disheveled state. "So who were you with last night? Who was irresponsible enough to let you drink in such a state, and then leave you alone in that condition?"

Lando rubbed his temples, trying to remember through his foggy memory. "Some friends," he mumbled, avoiding Max's accusing stare.

"You know, just some guys I hang out with sometimes. They were partying, and I... I don't know, I joined in." He paused, trying to compose himself. "Then I got drunk and they... they left."

Max’s eyes narrowed, seeing right through it. "Those friends, right? Are those the ones who always use you, Lando? The ones who take advantage of your fame?" His voice was sharp and filled with frustration, knowing exactly how those 'friends' manipulated Lando.

Max’s tone was hard as he continued, his questions probing deeper. "Did they invite you or did they just drag you along with them? Because I know how they are, Lando. They always take advantage of you. They use you for your money, your fame, and never really care about you."

Lando hesitated, his eyes downcast. He knew Max had a point. "I... they invited me," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "But I went because I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget her." His voice trembled slightly, the pain he felt creeping into his voice.

Max's ears perked up at the mention of y/n. "Is that why you broke up with y/n, then?" Max's tone softened slightly, realizing this was a sore subject.

"Because you wanted to forget her? To distract yourself from the pain?" He saw Lando wince at the mention of her name, and it confirmed his suspicions.

Lando swallowed hard, the pain in his eyes speaking volumes. "I... yes," he whispered. "I thought if I ended things, it would make it easier, but it's only made it worse." His voice shook with regret, the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders.

Max probed further, sensing there was more to this. "Were the friends the ones who influenced you to break up with y/n, Lando?" He had a feeling they were involved, knowing their toxic nature.

Lando shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Max's gaze. "They... they encouraged it, yeah," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed.

"They kept saying she was holding me back, that a relationship would only hinder my career, and I... I let them get into my head."

Max was furious. He had seen how much y/n loved Lando, how much she supported him at every turn, and now he had thrown it all away because of some 'friends' who didn't care about him. "They're the worst, Lando!" His voice rose. "They don't care about you, not like she does. She's been there for you, through everything. And you let them poison you against her?"

Lando closed his eyes, the reality of Max's words piercing through his foggy mind. Max was right. He had let himself be manipulated by his so-called friends, allowing them to turn him against the one person who genuinely cared about him.

"I know," he whispered, his voice choked. "I messed up. I'm an idiot."

Max sighed, his frustration mingling with a sense of compassion.

"You're not an idiot, Lando. But you made a terrible mistake. You let yourself be led astray by the wrong people. Those friends, they're poison. And y/n... she's the one who truly cares for you. You need to fight for her, Lando. Don't let them ruin what you and y/n had."

Lando admitted, his voice filled with regret and defeat. "It's too late, Max. She has blocked me everywhere. She doesn't want anything to do with me." His shoulders slumped, the weight of his mistake heavy on him. "She probably hates me now, and I don't blame her. I hurt her, Max. I don't think she'll ever take me back."

Max, determined to help Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands. He texted y/n, hoping to plead on Lando's behalf, but Max was met with a cold wall - she had blocked him too. Frustration welled up inside, knowing how much of a hole Lando had dug for himself.

"Lando," he said, his tone heavy, "She blocked me too. This is going to be harder than I thought."

Lando flinched as Max confirmed y/n had blocked him too. It felt like the finality of his mistake, like the door to reconciliation was slammed shut, and he had no way to open it.

"I can't blame her," Lando muttered, his eyes downcast. "I messed up so badly. She's got every right to hate me now."

Lando's phone suddenly buzzed with a text from one of his 'friends,' inviting him out again. But before Lando could even react, Max swiped the phone from his hand, angrily blocking them all.

Lando stared at Max, a mix of shock and annoyance on his face. "Dude, what the hell!" he exclaimed, trying to get his phone back.

Max's expression was serious, his tone firm. "Those friends of yours are poison," he stated, holding the phone just out of Lando's reach. "They're the ones who encouraged you to break up with y/n. They're not your real friends, and I'm not letting them influence you further."

Lando tried to reach for his phone again, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Max, please give me my phone. You can't just block them all! Those are my friends!" He sounded desperate, trying to justify something he knew deep down was wrong.

Max stood his ground, shaking his head. "No, Lando. Those friends are the reason we're in this mess right now. They don't have your best interests at heart. They only care about what they can gain from you. You need to see that!" His grip on the phone remained firm, not giving Lando any chance to retrieve it.

Lando, still hungover and angry, tried to make his case. "But... but they're the only ones who are there for me, Max!" Lando argued, desperation lacing his voice. "They're the ones who party with me when I feel down. They're the ones who go out to clubs while y/n stays home. They're just trying to look out for me."

Max's patience wore thin, his anger boiling over. He threw the phone at Lando with a snap, the device landing on the bed next to him. "Fine!" Max sneered, his voice cold. "Figure it out on your own, Lando. Seems you'd rather listen to those so-called friends than hear the truth. See how far they take you."

Lando flinched as Max threw the phone at him, feeling a mix of guilt and stubbornness bubbling inside. Max's words rang true, a painful reminder of the fact that he was defending his toxic friends over the one person who cared. But in his hungover state, he was stubborn, unwilling to admit his friends were the ones pulling him into a toxic pit.

"Fine!" Lando retorted, his voice rising. "I don't need you trying to control my life! And I don't need y/n. I can do whatever I want with my friends!" He grabbed his phone, clutching it tightly, his anger and resentment towards Max growing.

Max stormed out, leaving Lando alone in that moment, his thoughts swirling like a storm. Lando sat in silence, surrounded by the chaos he had created, and the weight of his choices. Max's absence left him with nothing but his own thoughts and the quiet, empty apartment, the reality of his situation setting in.

Days blurred together as I drowned myself in work, my fingers flying over the keyboard, creating numbers and reports that seemed like a lifeline in this sea of heartache. The silence of my apartment was too loud, so I stayed at the office, working until exhaustion took hold.

My best friend grew worried, her concern palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to open up. Who would even want to listen to my sob story, anyway?

I couldn't even bring myself to think about our breakup, the pain still too fresh. Work was my solace, a way to stay one step ahead of the thoughts that threatened to consume me. I tried to focus on the numbers, the deadlines – anything to avoid confronting the reality of my shattered heart.

But as much as I worked, the pain lingered, refusing to fade away. Every now and then, I'd find myself staring off into space, the memories of our time together flooding back. The sound of Lando's laughter, his warm touch, it all came crashing back in waves that threatened to crush me.

Lost in my own world, the sound of my best friend's voice finally broke through the fog of my thoughts. She had been calling my name for the past five minutes, but I hadn't heard a word, too consumed by my own internal battle. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the daze.

She stood by my cubicle, her expression a mix of worry and concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft. "I've been trying to get your attention for a while now."

I blinked again, trying to shake off the haze and focus on her words. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied through clenched teeth, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just really focused on this project." I tried to sound convincing, but I couldn't meet her gaze.

My best friend gently urged, "Y/N, I'm here for you, whenever you're ready to open up. How about a girls' night out tonight? A chance to take your mind off things? You need a break."

Each word felt like a lifeline. She knew just what I needed, an opportunity to lose myself for a moment without the weight of the breakup suffocating me.

The distraction of a girls' night out sounded tempting. I'd have a chance to let go, to pretend things were fine for a while. "Okay," I softly agreed, a small hint of warmth amidst the pain. "A girls' night sounds great. Let's do it."

As the hours passed, I tried to focus on the preparations, changing into something comfortable after my long day of work. But as I stood in front of the mirror, my mind kept wandering, the memories of Lando and the happier times we shared together. I took a deep breath, locking those thoughts away at the back of my mind, and plastered on a smile.

We met at a nearby bar, the noise and laughter a stark contrast to the silence of my apartment.

My best friend tried to engage me in conversation, steering clear of any topics about relationships or exes. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and I found myself sipping on my favorite cocktail, letting the alcohol blunt the edges of my pain for just a moment.

As the night progressed, my best friend knew something was still weighing heavily on me. She steered the conversation deeper, her eyes meeting mine in understanding. "Y/N, really, what's going on? I can see something's eating at you."

I sighed, taking another sip. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and the pain I'd locked away started to slip out.

I hesitated for a moment, then the floodgates opened. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and with each sip, the words poured out. "Me and Lando broke up," I said, my voice wavering. The pain I'd tried to hide finally came out in the open.

My best friend listened without interruption as I told her everything - the pain, the doubts, the sense of loss. She held my hand, her thumb running across the back of my hand in a comforting gesture, allowing me to release all the emotions I had been holding in.

The pain intensified as I allowed myself to acknowledge it again. "I still miss him," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, "but I can't go back to him. Not after everything he put me through."

My best friend stayed silent, letting me take the lead, listening without judgment, offering reassurance with her hand, holding mine firmly.

Her words were gentle, yet comforting. "You're strong, Y/N," she said, squeezing my hands. "It hurts, and it's hard, but you'll get through this. I'm here for you every step of the way."

Her words provided solace, reminding me of my own strength, even when I felt like I was crumbling.

She was right; I had gotten through tough times before. This, too, would pass. I tried to hold onto those words, a glimmer of hope in the midst of hurt. I wiped away my tears, taking a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

After hours we decided to call it a night. As my best friend dropped me off at my apartment, the night's diversion ended, and the silence of my apartment fell heavily around me.

The momentary respite from the pain had come to an end, and the reality of being alone set in again. I tried to ignore the loneliness, the emptiness without Lando. Instead, I got ready for bed, trying to find solace in routine.

I reached for my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the memories that kept invading my thoughts. But as I opened it, I was met with a barrage of social media updates about Lando and me - our pictures together, speculation, and the truth I had been trying to escape. The pain hit me all over again as I saw others asking about our breakup, theories swirling around me.

f1gossippofficial

Liked by formula1_news, f1_wags and others

f1gossippoffical Trouble in Paradise? Fans have suspected that Formula One driver Lando Norris has broken up with his girlfriend Y/N. The pair have unfollowed each other on all platforms and haven't been seen together in months. This suspicion was confirmed after fans saw Lando getting drunk at a club without his partner, living his life. What do you think happened? Follow for more updates!

View all comments

loveformywags2 What? Is this confirmed? This can't be right?! 🥲

lalalandlando4 He deserved better anyways 🤷‍♀️

f1maniaclvr Do y/n and Lando know about this? 🤦‍♀️

pookielanscar481 It's just odd that he was seen being drunk out of his mind without her

mam4you81 That's what I was thinking... What if she broke up with him and he's drowning himself in alcohol?

nanalalaf14 Honestly I don't think so, I think he dumped her since he had stopped interacting with her on his socials while she still liked and commented on all his posts.

4everf1loca NOOOOO my sheilaaaaa 😭

As I scrolled through the comments, reading the theories about us, a bitter realization hit me. They were only seeing the surface, the façade we had carefully crafted for the public. If only they knew what had really happened, the pain, the reasons behind our breakup.

The comments were full of speculation and curiosity. People thought they knew our love story, but they knew nothing. They didn't see the fights, the lies, the coldness between us. Their theories felt like a slap in the face, mocking the reality of our relationship.

All I knew at this moment was that I should take the time to heal and not let anyone ruin this for me.

Months had passed since the breakup, and I had finally made significant progress in my healing journey. Though the memory of Lando and our heartbreak still lingered, I had come a long way. I had focused on myself, investing time in hobbies, spending quality time with my friends, and allowing myself to heal.

I had established boundaries, avoiding social media and news about Lando that would reopen the wounds. I started a new project at work, pouring my energy into something productive. Slowly, I felt like I was rebuilding myself.

Right now, I was sat with my best friend, enjoying lunch together. My phone buzzed with a notification from an old group chat I had almost forgotten about. It was the group chat I used to be part of, with Kika and Alex.

When I opened it, I was greeted with a flood of messages, the group hasn't been active ever since my break up. So I was curious to see what this was all about.

My best friend, curious, noticed the notification that I had checked my phone. She gave me a questioning look, asking, "What was that about?"

"It's an old group chat from two of my WAG friends," I explained. "They want to catch up during the next GP."

My best friend raised her eyebrow, visibly curious. "And are you going to go?" she asked, her voice gentle but eager to know.

"At first, I didn't really want to go because of... well, Lando being there," I admitted, a mixture of hesitation and bravery in my voice. "But then I thought why should I let him dictate what I do? I shouldn't be scared of him, right?"

I paused, my determination showing through. "So, yes, I agreed to go."

My best friend's face lit up with happiness as she heard my decision. "I'm so proud of you!" she said, her pride shining through. "You're not letting him hold you back or influence you anymore. That's such a huge step forward, and you should be proud of yourself."

For a moment, seeing my best friend's proud expression filled me with a surge of bravery. She was right; I wasn't letting Lando affect my decisions anymore. I was taking control of my life again, one choice at a time.

As I laughed with my best friend, the weight of Lando gradually faded into the background. We continued talking, laughing, and enjoying our lunch together. Lando's name didn't come up in conversation. For now, he was just a distant thought, overshadowed by the joys of friendship and healing.

Lando stood in the McLaren garage during the Silverstone GP, his entourage of fake friends surrounding him in his papaya-colored driver overalls. They joked, laughed, and offered their hollow support, all while he got ready for the race.

Amidst the laughter, Lando's thoughts turned to y/n. He missed her, the void she had left in his life was still present, gnawing at him. He had tried to reach out, creating new accounts, but he found himself blocked at every turn, silence his only reply. It was as if the universe itself was holding back any chance of them reconnecting, driving home his deepest fears and regrets.

Lando snapped out of his pensive state, focusing his mind back on the race ahead. He had a job to do, after all. With a firm tone, he told his friends to stay put, to relax and enjoy the race while he got ready. His determination was evident, a momentary distraction from his heart's constant ache.

Lando quickly realised that he had forgotten his phone. As he retraced his steps to retrieve his phone, he heard muffled voices from within his driver's room. Curious, he stopped before he entered, straining to hear the conversation inside.

Michael chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. "Can you believe Lando was so stupid to break up with her?" Sam agreed wholeheartedly, a sneer on his face. "She was perfect for him, a distraction holding him back from his true potential."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, she was a total inconvenience, always nagging and taking up his time and money. Good riddance, I say."

They shared a cruel laugh, satisfied with their opinions. The conversation between Lando's fake friends revealed their true intentions - to have Lando's undivided attention, away from someone who truly cared about him.

They continued their conversation, mocking y/n's influence on Lando. Michael spoke with a mischievous grin. "It was a piece of cake convincing him. He ate up everything we said like a fool."

John snorted in agreement. "Yeah, we made sure he saw her as a hindrance. Now we have him all to ourselves, no competition."

James interjected, a cruel glint in his eyes. "We convinced him she was holding him back, that he needed to focus on his racing. We even convinced him she was just after his money. Classic play."

They chuckled, pleased with the web of lies they had spun. Michael added, "He doesn't even know what's good for him. We'll keep him under our control, keeping his attention and his wealth all to ourselves. He's too naive to see through us."

Sam, the schemer, couldn't contain his glee. "This has been the easiest con ever. Lando's so trusting, so foolish. We just have to keep filling his head with our lies, and he'll do whatever we want."

Lando, his heart heavy with the revelations, stormed back into the room, anger seeping through his every feature. His fists clenched, his eyes darkened in fury. He couldn't believe how easily he had been manipulated, how blind he had been to the deceit around him.

"How could I be so stupid?" he bellowed, staring down the group.

The group of fake friends froze, their faces stunned. They stared at Lando, wide-eyed, their laughter abruptly silenced. They hadn't expected Lando to return so soon, or to have overheard their malicious conversation.

Lando's voice trembled with a mix of fury and pain. "I can't believe I let you manipulate me like this!" His eyes burned with a potent blend of anger and regret. He stepped closer, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and hurt. "You were behind all of this, convincing me to break up with her, making me think she was holding me back."

The friends, caught off guard, tried to scramble for excuses. But Lando's words cut through their attempts to justify themselves. Michael spoke up, his voice trembling, "We... we were just looking out for you, Lando. We thought she was holding you back. We wanted what's best for your career, that's all."

Sam chimed in, trying to appease Lando. "We were trying to help you, Lando. We saw how she was distracting you, taking up your time and money. You need to focus on your racing. You're our golden goose!" He forced a fake chuckle, hoping Lando would buy into the manipulation again.

Lando clenched his fists, his body trembling with fury. "You didn't care about what's best for me. All you cared about was having me all to yourselves, using me for my fame and money. You manipulated me, turning me against the one person who loved me truly."

Jake tried to interject, his voice oozing with false concern. "Lando, we did care about you. We just wanted to protect you from a bad influence. We didn't want you to be taken advantage of." He attempted a manipulative smile, trying to deflect the blame onto me.

Lando's voice rose in intensity, his anger boiling over. "Don't you Dare talk about her like that! She was the only one who genuinely cared about me, not you. You're just jealous because she didn't let you use me like you do. You're nothing but a bunch of leeches!"

Michael, emboldened by Lando's anger, smirked, his words sharp. "Don't you dare blame us. This is on you, Lando. You were the one who was too stupid to see through our facade. Now you've lost her because of your own damn foolishness, not our fault in the slightest."

Lando, seething with a mix of hurt and anger, quickly called the security guards. With a firm voice, he instructed, "Get these snakes out of here now!"

The security guards, recognizing the tone of a man pushed to his limit, swiftly entered, escorting the fake friends out of the garage. Lando stood there, watching them leave, a bitter taste in his mouth.

As the fake friends were forcefully escorted out, Lando was left alone in the garage, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. The pain, the regret, the anger—it all slammed into him, finally giving way to the torrent he had held back for so long.

He slumped against a wall, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. Tears prickled in his eyes, his breath coming in ragged breaths.

As Lando sat there, the regret gnawed at him, growing sharper by the second. He thought about y/n, the love he had lost. The memories of their time together flooded his mind, and he berated himself for throwing it away. He blamed himself for listening to the friends who had manipulated him.

He thought about the love they shared, how he had let it slip through his fingers, shattered by his own foolishness and vulnerability to their lies.

Lando, still in a vulnerable state, decided to reach out to Max, despite their rocky past. He thought about the clubs and the disagreements they had had, but he had no one else to turn to now. With a mix of regret and desperation, he dialed Max's number.

Max picked up the phone, immediately sensing the desperation in Lando's voice. As Lando poured out his emotions and apologies, Max listened, his tone softening.

Lando confessed, his voice cracking, "I should have listened to you, Max. You were right about them, all along. I was a fool to listen to their lies and ignore you."

Max, surprised but relieved, replied, "I'm glad you realize now, Lando. Those friends were toxic. They used you, and I tried to protect you, but I understood, now." Max's words were sympathetic, understanding Lando's turmoil, even though they had their differences.

Lando confessed, his voice trembling with a mix of regret and desperation. "Max, I miss her, I miss y/n so much. I'll do anything to get her back, anything at all. It's the biggest mistake I've ever made."

Max fell silent, his concern deepening. He didn't know the extent of Lando's mistreatment of her.

The mention of y/n stirred worry in Max. He gently asked, "Lando, you know I didn't want you to break up with her. But why do you think you mistreated her? Can you tell me about that?" Max's tone was cautious, sensing that there was more to the story than he knew.

Lando hesitated, knowing he had a lot to unpack. Max's curiosity fueled a mix of fear and guilt inside Lando. He knew he had to come clean, even though it was painful to admit.

Taking a deep breath, Lando began to confess, his voice shaky. "I... I treated her badly, Max. I hurt her, ignored her, and took her for granted."

Max couldn't help but wince, knowing there was a deeper issue.

Lando's voice cracked with remorse. "They fed me lies about her. They convinced me that she was holding me back, that she wasn't good enough. I believed them, and I treated her poorly."

Max, as supportive as possible, tried to provide words of encouragement. "Lando, that's rough. You've made mistakes, but the first step is admitting it. You know you messed up; now it's about making amends."

He sighed, "Lando, remember that true love isn't about perfection. It's about growing together, learning from mistakes, and valuing someone despite their flaws."

He paused, his voice serious. "But you've got to show her you mean it. Words are easy, but actions will be your proof. Are you ready to do that?"

Lando, though shaken and determined, nodded, his voice firm. "Yes, Max. I'm ready. I want to prove it to her. I'll show her I've changed and that I'm serious about making amends."

Max and Lando continued talking, their conversation growing shorter as Lando had to prepare for the race. As they bid each other goodbye, Max reminded Lando, "Stay focused during the race. Clear your mind; that's important, too."

Lando, though his mind was heavy with emotion, took Max's words to heart. He knew he had to compartmentalize his feelings for now and focus on the race ahead. He focused on the tracks, his car, and his performance, pushing aside his turbulent emotions for the moment.

I stepped into the grand prix feeling a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The grandstands, the roaring fans, and the smell of rubber and fuel in the air brought back a whirl of emotions. Seeing the tracks where Lando and I used to share moments filled me with nostalgia and a pang of heartache.

My thought were interrupted by two voices. Kika and Alex, my two closest friends, ambushed me with warm hugs, pulling me into their embrace. Their cheerful voices cut through the noise of the Grand Prix, and I felt a mix of relief and joy. It had been a while since we had been together.

"Y/N! You made it!" Kika exclaimed. "We've missed you so much!"

Alex chimed in, grinning widely. "We've been dying to hang out with you! It's been ages." She playfully pinched my cheek. "You look great, by the way."

"Oh, stop it! I didn't do anything special. You two, on the other hand, are the real stars here. Look at you!" I playfully nudged them both, my tone teasing and lighthearted.

Kika and Alex beamed, clearly enjoying the compliment. "Alright, alright, enough with the flattery," Alex said, feigning exhaustion. "We're here to have a blast. You ready for this?"

I sighed one more time while looking around before replying. "More then ready."

We made our way to our favorite hangout spot at hospitality. It was cozy, far from the chaos of the track. As we settled in, surrounded by comfortable couches and tables, a mix of nostalgia and anticipation washed over us.

"I've missed this place," Kika said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "So many memories, right?"

We spent hours catching up, sharing stories, laughter, and heartfelt moments. The conversation flowed easily between us, like old times. Laughter echoed in the cozy space of the hospitality center, and our spirits were lifted. Time seemed to slip away as we bonded and supported one another. Eventually, the time came for Kika and Alex to head back out; their respective significant others were getting ready for their races.

Kika and Alex rose from their seats, their faces slightly apologetic. "We have to go," Kika sighed.

Alex nodded, adding, "Come find us later, okay?"

I gave them both a nod, understanding their commitment to support their boyfriends. "Of course, we'll catch up after the races. Good luck to them!"

Kika and Alex shared one last embrace, their hugs warm and reassuring, then they left to get to their respective spots by the trackside.

As they left, I was left to navigate the grandstands, finding my spot amidst the sea of fans. I blended into the crowd, the anticipation in the air as the racers prepared for their engines to start.

The race concluded, but it felt bittersweet. Lando's face was everywhere - on the screens, the winners' podium, the trackside banners. Seeing him in his natural element, celebrating victories, stirred mixed emotions in me. The pain of missing him and the hope of reconciliation blended together in a complicated mix.

After a bit, I decided that I needed to use the restroom so I headed that way. I made my way to the private VIP restrooms, my VIP pass granting me access. The restroom was clean and spacious, offering a respite from the noise outside. I checked my reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to compose myself.

As I exited the restroom, I was lost in my thoughts, only to bump into someone in the hall. I froze, instantly recognizing Lando's familiar voice. His figure stood in front of me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. His gaze met mine, and time seemed to stand still.

Lando called out for me, his voice filled with surprise, "y/n." His eyes held a mix of shock and tenderness, his voice holding a hint of the emotions he was trying to keep at bay.

As the words hung in the air between us, my heart raced. His presence was so close, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I got out of my stance, trying to leave, I tried to walk past him, but Lando blocked my path, stopping me in my tracks. I felt a wave of emotions crash over me - pain, anger, hope, and a deep longing all mingled together. The intensity of it was overwhelming, and I tried to suppress it.

Lando's voice was hesitant and filled with vulnerability. "Y/N, please…can we talk? Just for a moment."

His request was sincere, his eyes pleading with me not to walk away.

I shook my head, my resolve firm. "No, Lando. I can't and I don't want to." I replied, my voice resolute. The pain from our breakup was still too fresh, and talking to him now would reopen wounds I wasn't ready to confront. I tried to move past him, my expression set with determination.

Lando's face fell, a mix of hurt and resignation evident. He saw my determination, my refusal to engage. He took a step closer, his words soft but desperate, "Please... just hear me out."

My frustrations boiled over. "Don't you think it's ironic? Now you want me to hear you out, when you never listened to me when you decided to end things," I retorted, my voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.

Lando winced at my words, the truth of them hitting him hard. "I know... I made a mistake," he said, his voice tinged with regret. He was trying to find the right words, his eyes pleading with me to give him a chance.

Lando's expression twisted, the guilt evident on his face as he processed my response. The words cut deep, the truth behind them undeniable.

"A mistake?" I repeated, my voice dripping with bitterness. "You ruined me."

I continued, my words raw.

"I spent months wondering what was wrong with me, why you ended a relationship of three years for a fake friendship that didn't even last a year. Where are those 'friends' who supposedly supported you through everything? I don't see them here, Lando."

Lando looked down, ashamed. He had no answer. His fake friends were nowhere to be found, leaving him alone to confront the consequences of his actions. The weight of his mistake seemed to grow heavier.

He finally managed to gather his thoughts, his voice a mix of guilt and sincerity. "I messed up. I don't expect you to forgive me right now. But please, let me explain." He took a step closer, his regret etched on his face, silently begging for my understanding.

I raised an eyebrow, my words sharp. "Explain? What's left to explain? You threw away three years of us for a group of shallow friendships. What could you possibly say to make this better?"

Lando knew my words hurt, but he was desperate. "I was blind. I was a damn coward," he confessed. "I allowed myself to be manipulated by my so- called friends, and in the process, I hurt you."

He continued, his voice tinged with regret and shame, "I saw them as my real friends, but now I realize they only saw me as a way to elevate their social status." He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "They saw you as a threat, someone who could expose their true intentions. They convinced me you were holding me back, when in reality, they had me blinded."

His voice trembled as he continued, "I let myself believe their lies. They filled my head with jealousy, making me doubt our relationship, and I was stupid enough to listen to them." His vulnerability shone through, his emotions raw.

I nodded, my expression guarded. "I'm glad you've recognized your mistakes, Lando. But can you imagine the pain I've experienced because of them, because of you?"

My words conveyed a mix of grief and resentment. The hurt I suffered remained a palpable presence, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.

Lando nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't take back what he had done. The time he spent believing those fake friends and ending our relationship had shattered something that couldn't easily be repaired. He understood the depth of my suffering, a consequence of his blind trust and foolishness.

Lando looked at me, his expression sincere, and asked if we could try again. He voiced his regret, hoping for a chance to make things right. The hope in his eyes was clear, but the weight of the past lingered between us. He wanted to rebuild, to fix what he had broken.

He pleaded with me, his voice filled with remorse. "I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I want us to try again. I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't let those fake friends influence me anymore. I'll do whatever it takes."

I shook my head, my voice resolute. "No, Lando. I'm still healing, and right now, I don't want to try again. I need time, space. I can't just forgive and forget in a snap."

My words were firm, expressing my current inability to jump back into a relationship after everything I had been through.

Lando, his voice filled with sincerity, looked into my eyes. His gaze conveyed the depth of his regret and determination. "I understand," he said. "I will wait for you, for ten years or more," he promised. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."

As we concluded the conversation, Lando stood there, his heart heavy with the weight of our future hanging in the balance. He watched me leave, a mix of emotions coursing through him: regret, hope, and an ache of longing. He had to accept that he couldn't rush our healing process, no matter how much he desired to be by my side.

I walked away, my eyes misty, the past and the uncertainty of our future intertwining in my thoughts.

f1gossippofficial

Liked by formula1_news, wagscloset, formula1_gossips and others

f1gossippoffical Months after their break-up, Lando Norris and Y/N have been spotted after the Silverstone GP. Sources state that the ex-couple were arguing, what the argument was about is still a big question. Many suspected it was because of a third party being involved. Thoughts about this one?

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lazyformulaland Bro leave them alone, they're both adults. Let them solve this in peace ffs. 🙄

lvr4lan Noooo Lando honey this isn't you run!

wagslov4 Did he pick you yet ? 🙄

bbpiastri81 What the hell is going on

norriswithrizz4 This is insane, the main focus of formula one isn't even on formula one anymore smh 🤦‍♀️

4everyours4ln Y'all are too invested, leave my girl y/n alone.

momolew16 Forreal the girl didn't ask for this

closetofpeacefashion7 Exactly she was finally thriving and then this happend. It doesn't even look like she wanted to talk to him

mayyoushush8 Did she tell you that 🤨

closetofpeacefashion7 @mayyoushush8 Don't be stupid even a kid can see that 🥱

I decided to head back home, not forgetting to shoot Alex and Kika a quick message which they completely understood.

As I reached home, the weight of the evening's emotions crashed down on me. The conversation with Lando had stirred up all the hurt and confusion I had been suppressing. I felt emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed, unsure of what to make of it all.

The silence of my home only amplified my inner turmoil, leaving me to wrestle with my conflicted feelings.

A few days passed after the incident, I decided to move on with life and not let it bother me again. A perfect distraction? Drowning myself in my workload.

I arrived at work as I stepped inside the building, I was greeted by Linda, one of my co-workers.

Linda, approached me with a mischievous grin, her question catching me off guard. "Do you have a secret admirer, by any chance?" she asked, the curiosity palpable in her voice.

I stared at her, confused by her question, wondering why she would draw such a conclusion. I shook my head, puzzled by the idea. "What makes you think that?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

Linda chuckled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of intrigue. She replied, "Have a look in your office."

Puzzled by her cryptic hint, I made my way to the elevator and reached my office. As I stepped inside, confusion lingered in my mind, wondering what I was about to find.

My eyes widened with shock and surprise as I entered the office, finding a massive bouquet of my favorite flowers. The delicate blooms filled the space with a sweet, comforting fragrance. Attached to the flowers was a note, mysterious and intriguing. My heart fluttered with anticipation as I reached for the note.

My fingers traced the delicate paper of the note, and as I read the words, they stirred a whirlwind of emotions. The poem was written in delicate script, the words flowing like music... and it was about love. Each line spoke of tenderness, trust, and a future filled with hope. The words were so beautiful, it was as if they were carefully chosen specifically for me.

The little poem, written with a tender brush of affection, read:

"From the morning dew to the evening's glow, My love for you continues to grow. Through shadows and light, in every season's rain, Our bond remains, a gentle refrain.

In whispers of joy and moments of peace, I hold you close within my heart's embrace. Each smile shared, each memory we weave, My love will remain a boundless pledge."

I was so confused, who could've been behind this? As I read the poem again, my mind wandered to Lando for a moment. I quickly dismissed that Idea. He had confessed that he couldn't write romantic words, finding them cringeworthy.

If it wasn't Lando, then who would have written such a poem?

As the day wrapped up, I found myself heading home, my mind still lingering on the mysterious poem. Entering my home, I sank onto the couch, exhaustion seeping through my bones. The softness of the cushions welcomed me as my thoughts played through my mind, trying to unravel the mystery.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ring of the doorbell that echoed through my home. It was late in the evening, and I couldn't guess who might be at the door at such a time. With some curiosity and a hint of wariness, I got up to answer.

I went over to the door to open it and I was met with a delivery man. The delivery man handed me a massive bouquet of fresh flowers and a large box of chocolates. The fragrance from the flowers mingled with the scent of chocolate. The combination was almost overwhelming, leaving me baffled as I accepted the gifts.

Now I was even more confused, this bouquet was even bigger than the one from my office. And the weird thing was, that the chocolates I got were only my favorites.

I examined the box of chocolates, finding another note attached to the top. Carefully, I opened the wrapper, retrieving the note. Just like the previous one, it was written on delicate paper, filled with intrigue. I unfolded it, ready to read the message.

As I unfolded the paper, I was met with neat, elegant handwriting. The words held a romantic touch, and I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity. The second poem spoke of tender love and adoration.

"Your presence brings light to every room, A symphony of grace in each simple bloom. Though we may walk separate paths in life, My heart's allegiance is a ceaseless strife."

I sat there, taken aback by the heartfelt words. They spoke of admiration and deep affection. Who could have written these beautiful poems and left them for me? The confusion deepened, and I pondered who could be behind the mysterious gestures.

Plagued by curiosity, I reached for my phone and called my best friend, hoping for answers. As the call rang, I prepared myself for a wave of questions, expecting her to know something.

My best friend's cheerful voice filled the call, answering instantly. "Hello?" She sounded cheerful as ever, not knowing the mystery I was about to unload on her.

I cut straight to the point, my tone slightly urgent. "Hey, I have a question. So, I've been receiving anonymous flowers, chocolates, and... poems." I paused a moment. "Any idea who it could be?" I asked, hoping for some insight.

She was silent for a moment, her surprise apparent. But then her voice brightened, and I could tell she had a theory. "Oooh, a mystery admirer?" she asked, half-joking, half-curious.

I sighed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Well, yes. It is somewhat mysterious." I replied, unable to hide the hint of unease in my voice amidst the flowers and chocolates surrounding me.

We delved into the mystery, discussing possibilities. From past crushes to unknown admirers, we contemplated various scenarios. But no concrete conclusion surfaced, leaving me even more intrigued and slightly frustrated.

That was until my best friend's insight sparked a new perspective. She pointed out that the mystery admirer seemed to know me well. They knew my workplace, my love for romantic poems, and even my favorite chocolates and flowers. It wasn't just a coincidence; they seemed to have a grasp on my habits. The timing of the delivery was eerily precise, appearing just when I arrived home.

My best friend continued, her voice filled with speculation. "It's not just the flowers and chocolates, it's the timing. They know your work schedule. It's almost like they're watching, waiting for the right moment."

I agreed, thoughtfully absorbing. "Yeah, that's been bothering me. The timing is too perfect. They either know my schedule or they're stalking me." I chuckled, trying to soften the situation with humor.

"Wait!" My best friend suddenly interrupted, a speculative glint in her eyes. "Could it have been Lando?"

The name hung heavily in the air, bringing our conversation to a halt.

I shook my head, quickly dismissing the idea. "No, probably not. Lando doesn't enjoy writing, especially not romantic poems. He always told me he found them cringe."

My bestie nodded, acknowledging my response. "Ah, right. He's not exactly the poetic type, is he?"

I grinned slightly, remembering Lando's disdain for poetic words. "Nope, definitely not. He'd rather punch a wall than write a poem." I joked, the idea of Lando writing a poem seeming far-fetched, even for a moment.

After a while of thinking and cracking our brains open, we ended the conversation, deciding to table the mystery for the moment. We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone, my mind still swirling with questions. I prepared for the night, the flowers and chocolates lingering in the background, their presence a reminder of the mysterious admirer.

Several months passed, and the mysterious gifts persisted, each one more thoughtful and personal. The flowers continued arriving, alongside a new addition - small, handmade tokens. Notes slipped into the bouquet containing thoughtful messages, while a box of my favorite chocolates came with a heartfelt poem.

I sought information, asking friends and family if they knew anything. They were taken by surprise and genuinely had no idea who was behind the surprises. The mystery deepend as everyone denied any involvement.

The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.

The messages, delivered alongside the tangible gifts, carried messages that resonated with my emotions and experiences. It felt almost as if this person truly knew me, yet remained hidden behind the anonymity of their identity.

It was that time again - our annual girls' night out. We always looked forward to these nights, a chance to let loose and have a blast in a vibrant club. I had my best friend beside me, ready to dance the night away. The only problem? My best friend chose a club that Lando used to go to every time. She reassured me that he wouldn't be here which I took her word for.

We strutted into the club, excitement filling the air. Music pulsed through the venue, the bass matching the rhythm of our hearts. The lights dazzled the dance floor, and we blended into the crowd, the worries of the day fading in the throes of the nightlife. We decided to hit the dance floor, letting go of any inhibitions as we lost ourselves in the music.

We danced with abandon, the beat pulsating through us, the rhythmic movements our shared language. The neon lights flashed, adding an electric charge to the atmosphere. As we danced and whirled, we felt liberated from the daily grind, living in the moment, lost in the music and the company of my best friend.

Later that night we both got thirsty, I made my way to the bar to get us drinks, when suddenly a man approached me. I could already smell the alcohol on him as he staggered towards me, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.

He smirked, his words coming out in a clumsy manner. "Hey there, pretty lady," he slurred, his tone oozing with an unwanted familiarity. He invaded my personal space, leaning in a bit too close for comfort.

I could feel the warmth of his breath, tainted with alcohol, against my cheek as he spoke. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?" He tried to flirt, his persistence evident even amidst his intoxication.

I tried to maintain a polite smile, stepping back slightly. "I'm here with a friend," I replied, my voice a mix of politeness and discomfort. I glanced at the bartender, silently praying for my order to arrive sooner so I could escape this uncomfortable interaction.

He chuckled, his intoxication making him clumsy yet bold. "Oh, come on. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be tied down to just one friend. You should let loose and have fun," he insisted, his words filled with a suggestive undertone.

I tried to end the conversation, giving him a firm but polite dismissal. "Thanks, but I'm good," I said, my tone leaving no room for further conversation. I discreetly inched closer to the bar, hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone.

Instead of taking the hint, he persisted. "Oh, come on. Don't be a party pooper. One drink won't hurt," he insisted, his words slurring even more. He took another step closer, trying to close the gap between us.

I felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance as his persistence continued. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, leaving a cloying odor on the air. I tried to maintain my composure, not wanting to cause a scene but also wanting him to back off.

He took another step closer, his gaze lingering on me. I could see the effects of the alcohol on him - the unsteady steps, the glazed look in his eyes, the clumsy attempts at charm. He reached out, attempting to touch my arm, his gesture too familiar and unwelcome.

The guy got annoyed when I backed away. He reached out, his hand grabbing my arm with a firm grip, trying to pull me back. I felt a jolt of fear as he attempted to drag me.

His hold tightened, his voice a mix of frustration and insistence. "Come on, don't you know how to have fun? Just one drink, a little chat." He tugged at me, his alcohol-fueled stubbornness evident.

I felt a mix of panic and defiance. "Let me go, you sick prick!" I exclaimed, my voice strained. I glanced around, hoping for someone to intervene, but every face seemed lost in their own world, oblivious or uncaring about the situation. The loud music blared, making it seem as if no one could hear my cries for help.

The guy gripped my arm tighter, his eyes filled with a mix of drunken determination. He leaned in closer, his face twisted with frustration. "Why are you making this so difficult? Just one drink, come on."

He forced me into an empty, private room, his grip on my arm still strong, leaving me with a sense of dread. The music was a distant throb outside, leaving me more isolated in this unsettling scenario.

His grip faltered as someone unexpectedly appeared, a figure entering the room with a decisive move. Before the guy could even think of pulling me fully into the room, someone intervened, delivering a well-aimed punch to his gut. The guy groaned, doubled over in pain as he released his grip on me.

The guy fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as the force of the blow rippled through him. Confusion, pain, and shock replaced the smugness from before. I could only watch, relief washing over me as I realized I wasn't alone anymore.

The drunk guy, overwhelmed by the combination of alcohol and the punch, scrambled to his feet before stumbling out of the room, whimpering in pain. The sudden exit left me alone with the mysterious person who had stepped in to save me.

Lando rushed towards me, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion. The warm green in his eyes held a mix of worry and relief that I was alright.

He reached for my arm where the drunk guy had grabbed me before, inspecting the area to check if I was hurt. I could feel the tenderness as he gently ran his fingers over the spot, ensuring I was unharmed. Lando then gazed at my face, studying it for any signs of distress.

I gently pulled my hand away, forcing a small smile to reassure him. "I'm okay," I insisted, my voice steady but guarded. His concern was palpable, and I could see the relief in his eyes as he saw that I was not physically harmed.

Lando seemed desperate, unwilling to let me leave just yet. He reached for my arm again, his grasp gentle but firm. "Please, just hear me out," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

My response came sharp, biting. "Why would I? You didn't try to reach out, didn't try to find me, or even show an ounce of concern until now," I shot back, my words laced with bitterness and resentment.

Lando's response came with a mix of frustration and hidden emotion. "I haven't tried? Since our last talk, I've done everything I could to win you back," he retorted, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability. "Who do you think sent you all those gifts? Who else would know your work schedule, your favorite foods, your love for poems? I know I said I hated them, but for you, I embraced them."

His words were layered with hurt and a desire for reconciliation. Lando finally confessed, "It was me, all along. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever, so I hoped my gestures would speak for me." The pain in his face was evident, his eyes pleading for understanding.

I stammered at his words, a mixture of surprise and confusion overwhelming me. Never in my entire life I would've thought Lando would do all of this for me. My mind raced as I tried to comprehend the lengths he had gone to reach me.

My voice trembled as I spoke, "So... you were behind those text messages as well? How...? But I blocked all your accounts, even the new ones. How did you manage to send me messages?"

Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine as he confessed. "I bought a new phone with a different SIM card... just so I could message you." His answer hung in the air, the weight of his dedication palpable in the quiet space of the room.

He continued, his voice earnest, "I couldn't bear the silence between us, the distance. Even if you blocked me everywhere, I had to find a way to reach you, to express how I felt." The depth of his yearning and determination to keep the connection alive was evident in each word.

I remained silent, overwhelmed by his confession. Lando had gone to great lengths just to communicate with me, buying a new phone and SIM card, defying my attempts to cut off contact. The depth of his dedication was both touching and overwhelming. I couldn't deny the mix of emotions swirling within me.

Lando stood there, his eyes searching mine, desperate for a glimmer of hope. The air hung heavy with anticipation as he awaited my reaction, his vulnerability on full display, his heart on his sleeve.

I grappled for a response, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I... I'm still processing this," I managed to utter, my voice filled with a mix of hurt and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why let me think you didn't care?" I blurted out, a hint of betrayal seeping into my voice.

Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his shoulders slouching slightly. "I was afraid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of being rejected, scared that you would push me away if I tried to talk to you and most importantly scared you would've moved on. I thought sending those gifts and messages would be a way to reach out without directly risking rejection."

I stared at him, taken aback by his honesty. His confession laid bare his fears and insecurities, exposing the vulnerability beneath his usually composed facade. But my hurt remained, the sting of his silence lingering.

I couldn't hide my feelings, and I let my resentment spill out. "But you let me suffer!" I cried out, the pain pouring out in my words. "I thought you didn't care, that you moved on, while I was here, hurting over our broken relationship."

Lando's face contorted with pain at my outburst, his shoulders sinking lower. He took a step forward, bridging the gap between us. "I know, I know," he pleaded, his voice filled with regret. "I was a coward. I let fear dictate my choices, and I hurt you in the process. I'm sorry."

I wanted to believe him, to fall into the comfort of his apology and the sweet gestures he had made, but the wounds of the past remained. The memories of his silence, his refusal to communicate, and the pain I endured still weighed heavily on my heart.

Lando saw the hesitance in my eyes, noticed the barrier I had put up. His expression pleaded with me, a mixture of sorrow and yearning. I could tell he wanted me to forgive him, to let him back in.

"Lando, I'm so conflicted," I confessed, my voice cracking. The wounds of the past still fresh, I couldn't let go easily. "How can I trust that you won't hurt me again? I've suffered so much because of you, how can I be sure you won't do something like this again?" I asked, hoping for an answer that would quell my doubts. The pain was still too raw to simply forgive and forget.

Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his face a mask of sorrow and guilt. He knew he had caused me pain and had no right to expect forgiveness so easily. He stepped closer, the gap between us becoming smaller. With a gentle voice, he spoke. "I don't ask for you to trust me instantly," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't make the same mistakes again. Please, just give me a chance to show you."

I held his gaze, my eyes pleading for understanding. "I need some time," I implored, my voice shaky. "I can't just forget overnight. Give me the space to process everything, to heal." The emotions coursing through me were overwhelming, and I needed time to make sense of the rollercoaster of events.

Lando's response was gentle and resolute. "I will wait for you. Remember, even if it takes ten years," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."

I looked back at Lando, his pleading eyes yearning for a reprieve. With a heavy heart, I whispered, "Goodbye," and reluctantly turned away. The music and lights faded as I weaved through the crowd, searching for my best friend who had remained oblivious to the emotional storm that had just unfolded between Lando and me.

I found my best friend in the crowd, her smile lighting up upon seeing me. However, her smile quickly faded as she saw the tears streaming down my face. Without a word, she stood up, concern etched on her face.

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me towards the exit. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with understanding. "Let's go home."

We stepped out of the club, the cool outside air a stark contrast to the stifling heat inside. We hailed an Uber, and my bestie decided to spend the night to provide comfort and lend an ear.

We settled into the car, the soft hum of the engine accompanying us as we made our way home. I took a deep breath, preparing to recount the tumultuous events of the evening to my best friend.

The Uber pulled up in front of my building, and we disembarked, the night's cool air a stark reminder of the emotional journey I had been through. We made our way into my house, the silence between us filled with anticipation.

We entered my house, the familiarity of the space providing a semblance of comfort. My bestie guided me to the couch, pulling a blanket over us as we settled in for what was sure to be a long night of conversation.

I poured my heart out, recounting every detail, from Lando's apology to the painful memories that still lingered. My best friend listened intently, her eyes widening in surprise and shock as she took in the emotional rollercoaster I had described.

She was stunned, her face reflecting the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded. "Wow," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe he did all that."

My voice trembled with uncertainty, "I don't know what to do," I confessed, my emotions a tumultuous mess. "I want to trust him, but it's so hard to ignore the pain he caused. It feels like a never-ending cycle of confusion and fear." I rested my head on my friend's shoulder, seeking solace in her presence.

She rubbed my back soothingly, her support an anchor that kept me from drifting further into despair. In a gentle yet reassuring tone, she spoke. "It's okay to feel conflicted. Trust is earned, and forgiveness takes time. Don't rush yourself. Take whatever time you need to figure out what you want." She held me closer, offering her presence as a grounding force amidst the chaos.

My best friend posed the question that echoed within me, "Do you still love him?" The question sliced through the air, digging deep into emotions I had tried to bury.

Hesitantly, I met her gaze, tears glistening in my eyes. "I… I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

My friend's words were honest, cutting through the confusion. She persisted, "That isn't an answer, y/n. It's a simple yes or no question." I remained silent for a long moment, my emotions swirling inside. Finally, after an excruciating pause, I whispered, "Fine, yes. Yes, I still love him." The admission hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.

My best friend looked at me, her eyes mirroring a mixture of understanding and support. "Give him a chance," she urged, her voice gentle yet firm. "Don't give in immediately. See how far he's willing to go. If he goes beyond just gifts and gestures, you'll know he's sincere.''

A wave of confusion washed over me, and I turned to her for clarification. "What do you mean, 'beyond gifts and gestures'?" I inquired, the words tumbling out in a whispered plea for understanding.

She seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment, then met my gaze with an earnest expression. "I mean, beyond just grand gestures. Beyond the gifts and the poems. Love is about more than just gestures. It's about genuine care, about being there for each other, through every high and low. It's about trust and communication. Those are the true tests of sincere love," she replied, her words wise and heartfelt.

She continued, her voice steady. "If Lando truly cares about you, he will show it in every aspect of his life, not just with grand gestures. He will prioritize your needs, respect your boundaries, and be there for you, even in the most ordinary moments."

Her words resonated within me, their truth echoing in my heart. It didn't matter if he had sent flowers or sweet poems. Love wasn't just about gifts; it was about presence, understanding, and unwavering support through life's tumultuous journey.

We continued talking for hours, my best friend's words sinking deep into my thoughts. Eventually, we decided to call it a day, both exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster. My mind whirled with questions as we prepared to say our goodnights.

Lando's dedication persisted. In the days that followed, his gestures remained constant. I noticed flowers and chocolates carefully placed on my desk each morning, a poem hidden amidst the petals, and a warm coffee waiting when I arrived in the morning, exactly how I liked it.

Today it was different. I heard a knock on my office door, I replied with a simple 'come in' as the person entered. Lando stood in my office doorway, his hands holding my favorite coffee and a neatly prepared lunch. He spoke softly, concern in his voice.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, but I know you can get forgetful about your nutrition while working. So I brought you something." The gesture warmed my heart, leaving me momentarily speechless.

His willingness to break away from his busy schedule, solely to ensure I took care of myself, touched me deeply.

"Thank you," I expressed gratefully, touched by his thoughtfulness. I had to ask him, curious about the sacrifice of his valuable time. "But aren't you busy? You still made time for this?"

Lando responded, his voice gentle yet sincere. "I'm busy," he admitted. "But I make time for you because you matter to me."

His simple yet powerful response struck a chord within me. In the midst of the busyness of life, he had made time for me, prioritizing my wellbeing. It spoke volumes about his devotion and care, that he was willing to sacrifice his valuable time just to ensure I wasn't neglecting myself.

The sincerity in his eyes and the way he stood in my office doorway, a small lunch in hand, felt overwhelming. It was as if he was trying to prove that he valued our connection more than the hustle and bustle of life.

In the weeks that followed, Lando's gestures became an integral part of my routine. He arrived at my office each morning with my favorite coffee, not missing a single day, even when I forgot it myself. During lunch breaks, he carefully watched over me, ensuring I ate, sometimes even bringing me delectable meals he prepared himself. He began helping me with paperwork, even when he didn't have the expertise—a gesture that left me touched.

Once, when I found a mouse in my apartment, he came at 4 a.m., not hesitating for a moment despite having an early flight.

His devotion continued. In the midst of his travels, he remained constant in sending me thoughtful gifts. The distance didn't seem to matter as his love crossed time and continents.

With each passing day, my heart opened up a little more. His gestures filled my heart with a mix of gratitude, warmth, and a hint of rekindling love.

It seemed like any ordinary day, with Lando on the other side of the world for a race. I was engulfed in my work, my focus solely on the paperwork, to the neglect of myself. Suddenly, my colleague Linda burst into my office.

Linda spoke with concern, her voice filled with worry. "You've been working nonstop. Come on, let's get something to eat." I protested, insisting on finishing my task first, but Linda's stern expression was unrelenting. I agreed reluctantly, rising from my seat. Little did I know, the world was about to spin.

As we walked, I started feeling dizzy, an unfamiliar sensation overtaking me. Linda's voice was heard from beside me. "Sweetheart are you alright?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I quickly reassured Linda, believing I had just stood up too quickly. Yet, before I could take another step, my world slipped away, and I plunged into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Linda witnessed the sudden collapse and hurried to my side, concern filling her voice. "y/n, are you okay?" she asked urgently, but I was unresponsive, the world around me fading into blackness.

The sound of voices echoed in the distance, Linda's voice calling my name. However, the comforting embrace of darkness held me captive.

As I emerged from the haze of unconsciousness, I felt a soothing yet firm hold on my hand. I groaned softly, my eyes slowly creaking open, reluctantly adjusting to the stark brightness of my surroundings.

As my vision cleared, I realized I was in a hospital room. The sterile environment, the soft hum of medical equipment, and the distinctive smell of antiseptic filled the air. I heard someone calling my name, I turned my head, my gaze drifting towards the source of the voice that called my name.

I blinked, still in a state of surprise to see Lando beside me. He looked at me with concern, his presence unexpected given that he was supposed to be on the opposite side of the globe. He spoke urgently, "How are you feeling? Should I call for a doctor?" His worry was evident in his eyes as he waited for my response.

Amidst the haze of confusion and exhaustion, my mind clung to one question. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice weak but filled with surprise. "You're supposed to be on the other side of the world."

His response caught me off guard, touching my heart amidst the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm you're emergency contact," he reminded me, and the realization set in.

He had crossed continents and time zones, arriving swiftly on his private jet, driven by his concern for my well-being. I had been asleep for 12 hours, and in that timeframe, he had made his way across the globe to be by my side.

The depth of his commitment touched my heart. Despite the demands of his career, he had flown across the world to be by my side, prioritizing my well-being above everything else. The knowledge that he was my emergency contact made a surge of warmth flow through me. It was a reminder of my significance in his life and the lengths he would go to for me.

I tried to compose myself, my voice still weak, I told him, "You shouldn't have done this. You have important things to attend."

Guilt tugged at me, knowing he had sacrificed his commitments to be here. His racing schedule, his career, everything seemed secondary to his concern for me in that moment.

Lando shook his head, his expression resolute. "I don't care, none of it matters as much as you do," he insisted, his gaze filled with sincerity. He reached out to gently hold my hand, his touch comforting. "Nothing is as important as you," he repeated, emphasizing his priorities.

His words struck a nerve, causing a mix of emotions to rise within me. Tears welled up in my eyes, his unwavering devotion filling me with a combination of gratitude and sorrow. I had doubted him, feared a lack of commitment, yet here he was, proving me wrong in the most dramatic way possible.

His presence in the hospital room, despite the distance he traveled, felt surreal. The sound of medical equipment beeping in the background seemed distant compared to the intense emotions swirling between us. Lando held my hand, his touch warm and reassuring.

In that moment of tender silence, Lando spoke again. His voice was soft, carrying a mix of concern and affection. He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. "I was so worried," he admitted, his eyes locked on mine. "Seeing you here in the hospital... was terrifying."

His eyes mirrored the vulnerability he rarely displayed, raw emotions laid bare. The fear he had felt, the concern that gripped him, all visible in his expression. The reality of the situation weighed heavily between us, his emotions palpable and sincere.

I offered a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worries, though the weakness in my voice betrayed my fatigue. "I'm okay," I whispered, exhaustion evident in my words. My weak hand attempted to squeeze his in return, hoping to show my gratitude despite my physical state.

Lando's grip on my hand tightened, his thumb tracing comforting circles on my skin. His gaze remained focused on me, studying my face, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He was skeptical of my reassurance, his worry etched on his furrowed brow.

We delved into conversation, discussing random topics, our worries fading into the background. Our chat was filled with laughter and genuine connection. However, our peaceful moment was interrupted when the doctor entered the room for a routine check-up. The doctor informed me that I was discharged, giving me the okay to leave.

Lando assisted me in gathering my belongings, the tenderness in his gestures evident. He carried my bag and carefully guided me out of the hospital room. We paced side by side, making our way to Lando's car parked outside.

We traveled in a soothing silence, the weight of the hospital now off our shoulders. As we reached my place, Lando diligently helped me bring my belongings inside and prepared to leave. But before he could go, he paused and called my name, the sound breaking the tranquility.

I turned my attention his way, meeting his eyes with curiosity. "Yes?" I responded, wondering what was on his mind. His voice had held a hint of hesitation, as if there was something important he wanted to convey.

He inhaled sharply, the weight of his question becoming apparent. He spoke with vulnerability, "There's something I want to ask you. You're free to refuse, but I genuinely want to ask... Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?"

I was initially startled, but the anticipation in his eyes was evident. He swiftly added, "Only if you want it to be a date of course" I could see the sincerity in his gaze. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I accepted his invitation, my voice steady with anticipation. "Yes."

The relief and happiness that washed over Lando's face at my acceptance were evident. His shoulders relaxed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You'll go on a date with me?" he asked, a mix of surprise and joy in his tone. "Really?"

The vulnerability in Lando's voice hinted at the significance of my acceptance. He was eager to hear my confirmation once more, his eyes glimmering with hope. I smiled warmly, reassuring him, "Yes, I'll go on a date with you."

We bid each other good night, both feeling the exhilaration of the upcoming date. The way we acted mirrored that of teenagers experiencing their first date, a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. As we exchanged a final glance, our connection felt like a magnetic pull, both eager for the moment to come. The goodbye lingered for a few moments, filled with electricity.

The evening of our date arrived, and my best friend was diligently working on styling my hair, while I focused on applying my makeup. She fussed over my locks, while I carefully applied concealer and mascara to enhance my eyes. My outfit hung on the closet's door, chosen for the evening. The weight of my excitement made my heart flutter in anticipation of the night ahead.

My best friend, brushing through my hair as she styled it, spoke up. "You know, Lando really went above and beyond for you, don't you think he deserves a chance?" she said, emphasizing his efforts.

There was a pause as I met her gaze in the mirror, a mix of emotions coursing through me. I set down my mascara and turned to face her, the weight of her words settling.

She looked at me, waiting for my response, her eyes filled with a mix of encouragement and genuine concern. The reminder of Lando's efforts weighed heavily on my thoughts. He had shown dedication and cared for me, but my past fears and apprehensions lingered, making it hard to fully let go.

I took a moment, considering her words. Inhaling deeply, I nodded, offering a soft smile of agreement. "Yeah, I know," I admitted, my voice a mix of vulnerability and hope. "But it's... it's hard to trust after everything."

I voiced my intentions, my eyes glimmering with determination. "I want to give him a chance," I declared, my resolve strengthened. "Not just a chance, but an opportunity to show me that he's worth trusting." My past pain weighed heavily on my heart, but the hope in my voice was undeniable.

Her squeal of happiness filled the room, echoing her encouragement. "Oh my god, y/n! I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You're doing the right thing, giving him a shot. He'll make you so happy!"

She grinned, her excitement infectious. "I can feel it in my bones, this is gonna be great. He's going to sweep you off your feet."

We concluded our primping, with my best friend leaving with a parting "keep me updated, and good luck!" The anticipation in my stomach intensified, a mix of excitement and nerves gripping me. I took another glance in the mirror, taking in my appearance one last time.

I was wearing a black off shoulder dress, that hugged my curves nicely. I paired it with the famous uncomfy YSL heels and matching purse. My hair was styled in a beautiful blow out flowing over my shoulders. I sighed one more time before grabbing my stuff.

The doorbell echoed through the room, signaling Lando's arrival with its gentle tone. My heart leaped in my chest, his presence just outside my door.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and then opened the door. Lando stood there, his presence immediately filling the space, and warmth spread through my chest. He looked handsome, his well-groomed appearance evident, but it was his warm eyes and gentle smile that greeted me.

Lando stood before me, a bouquet of vibrant flowers in hand. His expression was one of awe, his words momentarily lost. He managed to compose himself and spoke, his voice filled with admiration. "You look absolutely stunning," he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of me.

The flowers were a beautiful display of color, their delicate petals reflecting the soft light of the hallway. Lando held them out, offering them to me like a bouquet of promises. I extended my hand, taking them with a soft smile, his compliment making my cheeks flush.

We walked out together, arm in arm, the cold evening air washing over us. Lando guided me to his car, opening the passenger door and helping me inside as a gentleman. As we settled in, the city lights danced outside, casting a cozy ambiance in the car.

We arrived at the restaurant, a charming Italian bistro with soft lighting and a cozy ambiance. Lando got out, rushing to open my door, offering a hand to help me out with a soft smile. The scent of fresh herbs and garlic filled the air, a promise of a delicious meal to come.

We stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around us. The atmosphere was romantic, with soft music playing in the background. Lando guided me to a table by the windows, pulling out my chair before taking a seat himself. Candles flickered on the table, casting a soft glow over everything.

We settled into our seats at the table, the ambiance around us serene and inviting. The waiter approached, greeting us warmly and setting menus before us. The scent of fresh bread and delectable aromas wafted from the kitchen, fueling the anticipation for the meal ahead.

Lando spoke with confidence, knowing my preferences. "What do you want to get?" he asked, but before I could respond, he answered himself, "No, I know already. Let me guess... the carbonara." A smile tugged at my lips as he remembered my favorites so effortlessly. I replied, "You know it," a mix of affection and appreciation filling my voice. His attention to detail and memories of things I liked made my heart swell with warmth.

The night unfolded, filled with lively conversation and laughter. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in our connection, the sound of others around us fading into the background. It felt as if the world had narrowed down to just us, an intimate bubble filled with shared laughter, stolen glances, and shared stories.

As the night drew to a close, neither of us wanted it to end. Lando paid for the meal, and I thanked him with genuine gratitude. We decided to take a stroll, drawn to a nearby bench that offered a view of the water. As we settled onto the bench, the gentle moonlight illuminated the night, casting a silvery glow over the water's surface.

I broke the comfortable silence, my voice soft and sincere. "Lando?" I began, my words carrying heartfelt appreciation. "I really enjoyed today. Thank you," I expressed, my eyes glimmering with warmth as I looked at him.

Lando met my gaze, a soft smile playing at his lips. He spoke with sincerity, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, his eyes mirroring the appreciation in mine. "It means the world to me that you had a good time. I truly enjoyed every moment with you."

I addressed the elephant in the room, acknowledging the immense effort he'd put in. "You know, you really have gone above and beyond for me these past months," I said, my tone sincere.

It had been a challenge to regain my trust, and Lando's consistent gestures had played a significant role in rebuilding it. His eyes glimmered with a mix of vulnerability and hope, absorbing my words.

Lando's voice was quiet as he responded, his tone sincere. "I know I have, but every moment of it was worth it," he confessed, his emotions clear in his eyes.

"I wanted to show you that you could trust me, that I would go to any lengths to earn your trust," he added, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and earnestness.

I continued, my questions flowing out. "What about after we get back together? Would you still care about me like this" I inquired, my eyes searching his.

Lando's expression shifted, vulnerability and sincerity mixing in his gaze.

"After we get back together, I want to cherish every moment even more," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to support you, care for you, and be there for you through anything. I want to keep building on the trust we have and make our relationship stronger than ever."

His sincere words found their way to my heart, a tenderness washing over me. The vulnerability in his expression, combined with his commitment to cherishing our relationship, stirred something within me.

I spoke up, my voice soft but filled with resolution. "I think," I began, "I'm ready to be yours again."

Lando stood up, his eyes wide with disbelief, his emotions overwhelming him. He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the bench in a tight embrace.

As he spun us around in a whirlwind of joy, he spoke with heartfelt conviction, "I won't disappoint you ever again. I love you so much."

His hands remained on my waist, a tender touch that seemed to anchor me. I felt a surge of warmth and contentment as I replied with a giggle that turned into laughter, sharing in Lando's excitement.

"I love you too, Lan," I confessed, my eyes glimmering with affection

Lando's grip on my waist tightened as he pulled me into a passionate kiss, a fusion of his emotions and desires. The softness of the moment contrasted with the intensity of our feelings, the kiss sending a surge of electricity through my body. I melted into his embrace, returning the kiss.

As the kiss intensified into a make-out session, I reluctantly pulled away, the reminder of Lando's fame echoing in my mind. However, Lando was unfazed, his response quick and resolute.

He shrugged off the potential consequences, insisting, "Let them see. I've got my girl back, and that's all that matters." His smile was filled with a mixture of certainty and passion as he pulled me back, their lips meeting once more in a toe-curling kiss that seemed to defy any outside concerns.

The moon shone down, lighting up the night as Lando wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, and we walked back to his car. The air held a delicate sense of anticipation, and as we drove away, I nestled my head against Lando's shoulder, feeling safe and cherished.

Gratitude and affection swelled within me as I realized I had given Lando another chance, and that my heart had bloomed open once again. I smiled, my thoughts swirling with appreciation and love for the incredible journey we were about to embark on.

The end

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 days ago

Text

private collection

Summary: Dieter asks you, his PA turned girlfriend, to take a video of him to help promote the project of a friend of his. He makes sure to thank you for it afterwards.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.3k

Rating: E

Warnings: based on that damn instagram dancing snippet, flirting, dancing, established relationship, kissing, smut (unprotected sex; oral sex f receiving), cum play, making some private videos, sneak of a bj at the end

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

A/N: look, I had to. Somebody stop this man keep going. Used @iamasaddie's gif as Inspo (hope that's okay! Tumblr apparently won't let me message anyone from this account some reason 🥲) cause I suck at all things graphic design. Merry Crisis!

Full Masterlist // Dieter Bravo Masterlist

The night was coming to an end and you were tired.

Dieter had insisted you come with him to a get together with some of his friends who were in town to promote their newest projects. Of course all of them knew that you were much more than just the PA the outside world knows you as.

You had been dating on and off for around four years. What started as a… mutual quarantine friends with benefits kinda situation turned into something more throughout the last year. You had been with him through his final successful rehab and you couldn’t be prouder of him being sober for almost two years now. By now you were living together, but keeping it all lowkey. You were still working as his PA, but not for that much longer.

You’d start working at Dieter’s new production company as an production assistant in the next year. You had always wanted to work in that field, being Dieter’s PA and the pandemic only delaying your goal by a bit.

Not that you were mad about it.

Sure, you would still technically work for Dieter, but not like you did now. You would work for the COO of the company and not for Dieter directly.

„Come dance with my baby,“ he gave you one of those smiles he knew you couldn’t resist, his friends already on their feet, music loud in the background as Dieter held his hand out for you. Knowing you couldn’t say no to him you took his hand and let him pull you up and into the middle of the room.

It was a small private bar in some fancy restaurant, the only people around his friends and one bartender. Crossing your arms behind his neck, feelings his arms, his hands on your back you let him sway you to the music, his chest against yours.

„You look really pretty tonight,“ he hummed with a small smile, kissing your forehead.

„Thank you. My man got this dress for me,“ you grinned softly, your fingers playing with the soft hair in the back of his neck. It was just a black sweater dress he had surprised you with the week before.

„He got good taste, your man,“ he grinned back and you nodded.

„He got his moments,“ you teased and he chuckled, swaying your bodies to the song.

„Thank you for coming with me tonight. I know you wanted to stay in. But it was nice having you here with me. And I promise we will stay in for the whole weekend and do whatever you want,“ he said and you smiled at him.

„Love you,“ you smiled softly and he mumbled a love you too, before he kissed you softly.

You continued to dance for another two songs, one slow song, and one where Dieter attempted to teach you how to actually dance to the beat, but you were a lost cause, you both ending in a fit of giggles before he tells you that he wants to head home.

You agreed, wanting to use the restroom before.

„Baby, you gotta help us,“ he called out to you when you came back into the room. With a raised eyebrow and a small smile you walked towards Dieter and his three remaining friends.

„With what?“ You asked.

„Wanna promote his movie and had an idea,“ Dieter said, nodding towards one of his friends.

„Okay?“ You nodded, a little confused.

„But these suckers can’t stop laughing while filming so you gotta,“ he winked and now you were intrigued.

„What exactly am I going to be filming?“ You playfully narrowed your eyes.

„Just little old me, dancing towards the camera while this song play,“ he shrugged innocently but you could see his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You actually listened to the song, lips parting as you recognised it. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you looked up at Dieter before you playfully rolled your eyes, holding your hand out for his phone. He kissed your nose softly before he walked back towards the other side of the room while someone put the song on repeat and turned it louder.

„How slutty is this going to be?“ You asked with a small grin as you searched through his phone for the camera app.

„Oh you know me, baby. Just the right amount,“ he winked at you and you chuckled before you straightened up, watching him with a smile as you pressed record.

„Do your worst then, Bravo,“ you challenged and he danced towards you, smoulder full on, his eyes on you behind the phone as he moved his body, pulling his arms up, hands towards his face as he danced closer towards you. You bit your lip as you watched him, asking yourself how you got so lucky to get to call him yours when his lips twitched into a smile as he was close to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he kissed your cheek, your skin suddenly flushed at his little performance. You chuckled as you stopped the video before you tilted your chin up to kiss him softly.

„Let’s get out of here?“ He asked and you nodded.

You used the way home to edit his social media posts, taking a little longer than usual to edit the clip of him dancing, cutting the last part of him kissing you out.

„Gotta say this video hits different cause I get to experience just how well you can move your hips on an almost daily basis,“ you said with a small smile and felt Dieter look at you from the drivers seat.

„Aren’t you a lucky girl?" He teased and you looked up at him.

„Can’t argue with that,“ you sighed with a dreamy smile and felt his hand on your thigh the next moment. You were finished with editing by the time Dieter parked his car in his garage.

„You wanna look or should I just post?“ You asked.

„Just post it,“ he said.

„You sure? Pretty sure that video could qualify as foreplay,“ you grinned and he chuckled.

„Merry Christmas to everyone watching then,“ he winked before he got out of the car. As he rounded the car to open your door, you hit post, putting his phone into your purse as you let him help you out of the car.

„How do you feel about some actual foreplay upstairs?“ He asked before he kissed you as soon as you were out of the car, your back leaning against the car door.

„Pretty sure you could just fuck me right here from how wet it made me to watch this video two hundred times while editing,“ you mumbled against his lips, feeling his twitch into a smile.

„While I’d love to do just that,“ he whispered, one of his hands tilting you head up, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek.

„I really want you to sit on my face,“ he winked before he pulled you into his house.

„Oh my god, Dieter,“ you gasped, your fingers wrapped around the wooden headboard in front of you, Dieter’s arms wrapped around your thighs, his head between them as he ate you out.

He really did not waste any time to get you to sit on his face as soon as you made it upstairs, stripping down himself then you quickly, before pulling you on top of him.

His tongue was merciless, playing with your pussy like only he could, bringing you closer and closer towards your first orgasm. One of his arms let go of your thigh, his hand coming up to play with your tits, palm squeezing one of them softly.

„Shit, baby. Right there, suck on my clit,“ you moaned, crying out when he did just that, your walls clenching around nothing seconds later as your orgasm washed over you, your lips parted with a satisfied smile, head thrown back as you rode it out, one of your hands coming down to slip into his hair as he continued to lick into you.

Finally you looked down, finding his dark eyes already fixed on you and you slipped down his chest, his hands coming to rest on your hips as you straddled his, slowly rubbing your drenched pussy over his cock.

„You’re so fucking sexy, baby,“ he said as he licked his lips and you grinned before you leaned down to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

„Want you to ride my cock baby, please,“ he whined between kisses, as you continued to slip his cock through your wet folds.

„Yeah?“ You teased against his lips.

„Fuck, yes please,“ he whimpered, his hands kneading your ass as he helped you move on top of him. You loved how needy he got sometimes.

„What if I really want to suck your cock?“ You asked and he groaned.

„Later. Wanna be inside you now,“ and you hadn’t it in you to tease him any longer, sitting yourself up and wrapping your hand around his cock to line him up.

You both moaned when you sunk down on him, every inch of his thick cock stretching you perfectly just like it did since the first time you had fucked until you were sitting on top of him, cock deep inside of you.

„Shit, your pussy is so fucking perfect,“ Dieter moaned and you smiled down at him. His eyes on your tits before he looked up into your eyes.

„All of you is fucking perfect,“ he moved his hips beneath you and you gasped. With both of your hands on his chest you began to move on top of him, first rolling your hips before you slowly began to ride his cock.

„Feels so good, Dieter,“ you moaned softly, enjoying the way his cock was stretching you out.

„Yeah?“ He asked, both of his hands on your tits, playing with them. You sucked your bottom lip in, nodding as you began to move faster, bouncing on his cock. He began to move too, thrusting up into you to meet you halfway, the sound of skin smacking against skin filling the room.

„You close?“ He asked and you nodded.

„Good girl. Use my cock and make yourself cum. It’s yours,“ he groaned and you moaned.

„Wanna fuck you from behind after you cum, shoot my cum all over your back,“ he said, his eyes on you as he fucked up into you harder.

„Oh fuck,“ you moaned, arching your back as your second orgasm rushed through you, your hands covering Dieter’s that were still on your tits as you slowly rode it out.

As you breathed deeply you looked down at Dieter with a fucked out smile on your lips.

„Hands and knees baby,“ he winked up at you and you sighed before you got up from him and let Dieter help you get you on your hands and knees, still feeling a little wobbly from your second orgasm, his cock back inside of you within seconds. He grabbed his pillow, pushing it under your chest and you let yourself fall down even further, your ass up in the air as he fucked into you.

„You good?“ He asked and you nodded.

„Use me, baby,“ you said, the side of your head on the mattress, wiggling your ass playfully and he slapped it twice.

„Tell me if it gets to much,“ he said and you nodded, crying out at the next moment as he began to fuck you with hard, deep thrusts. Somehow he felt even deeper like this and it was like you could feel him everywhere as he pumped himself into you, the bed squeaking beneath you with how hard he was fucking you.

It felt so fucking good, Dieter knowing just how he had to touch you to make you feel good.

„Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,“ he groaned and you nodded desperately.

„Cum for me baby,“ you whined, already feeling his cock twitching inside of you before he pulled out. You turned your head to look up at him, his hand jerking off his cock, a long groan escaping his lips before you felt the first rope of his cum on your back. His eyes were closed, head thrown back as he milked himself dry and you hummed with a tired smile, his eyes opening when he finished, finding yours.

With a fucked out smile he looked down at you before he looked at the mess he made of you. Leaning down you gasped when you felt his tongue run up your spine, licking himself off before your felt one of his hand on your arm, finding yourself on your back moments later with him towering over you, his lips meeting you in a messy almost desperate kiss, both of you moaning as you shared the taste of his cum.

„Your so fucking filthy,“ you mumbled against his lips with a grin.

„You love it,“ he grinned back and you kissed him again, your arms crossing behind his back and he landed on top of you with a surprised huff.

„I really fucking do,“ you agreed with a laugh.

The next morning, you were only wearing his shirt form last night, you sneakily filmed him in his kitchen as he made breakfast for you, wearing only some very low hanging grey sweatpants.

You filmed him as he danced through the kitchen, Christmas lights hanging on his kitchen window as Wham’s „Last Christmas“ played in the background. Excited for the first Christmas you would spend as a couple.

And much later it was Dieter who filmed you, him with a Christmas hat on and you, with his cock down your throat.

But those videos would remain private.

For just you and him.

#my fic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanficiton #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters

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the-hype-dragon · 2 hours ago

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I only have one thing to add as a gamergrrl and that is any time attractive male characters are in games geared towards men or general audiences, men throw the biggest hissy fits imaginable. I have been a fan of Final Fantasy since I was a teenager, just after FF10 released, and I remember the YEARS of men saying the male characters were gay because they were good-looking and had emotions. I remember the hate campaigns from male nerds against FF8 and 10 because Squall and Tidus were "too whiny," i.e. they had feelings and processed them on-screen

when Mobius Final Fantasy came out, I remember men being very uncomfortable with Wol's design to the point that it got censored for being too sexy (RIP):

(this from the same general crowd that bitches about "muh censorship" when underage female designs are changed in international releases lmao)

every FF game with hot male leads has a huge female player base as well. FF has always drawn female players and the main reason why is the pretty men. FFXV's entire player party was nothing but pretty young men, it was a smash hit and is popular among female gamers (but that goes without saying)

there is also the case of NieR, which was simultaneously released as Replicant for the ps3 and Gestalt for the xbox360; the former featured a pretty young man as the protagonist and the latter a grizzled older man. the western release got Papa Nier because he appealed more to American gamers, against the creator's wishes:

ultramaga also ignores things like otome games which in general are full of pretty men specifically designed to appeal to women, or to the fact that many fandoms are full of women thirsting over male characters. Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons and Rune Factory have female protag options and now and the male characters are now designed to appeal to female gamers. let us also not forget the constant finger-wagging women endure over smut aimed at women, full of hot muscular men that appeal to (who else?) women. "sex sells" yes and entire markets hinge on horny women, that's why romance novels are so popular in spite of the fact that apparently women have no desires whatsoever except to look at the same grotesque sexy imagery as straight men and be completely (and supposedly) unbothered by it - oh wait no they aren't, why else would there be more "ugly" female protagonists now? is it perhaps because people (ahem ahem WOMEN) raised a fuss and video game devs listened? no, has to be the woke agenda

I made this same joke in my head with Sonic but Crash Bandicoot is the superior joke.

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russo-woso · 2 days ago

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My Santa || Alessia Russo x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You and Alessia have to secretly put the presents out without waking your daughter

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ready for bed, bubba?” You asked your four year old daughter, your fingers brushing through her wild curly hair as she sat curled up on the sofa in between you and your wife.

“Santa’s gonna come but you have to be asleep first.” Alessia added, rubbing Lola’s back.

“Cookies and milk.” Lola pointed out, remembering how you’d told her that Santa needed his cookies and milk.

“That’s right, bubba. Me, you and mummy go do it now?” You asked, Lola nodding tiredly.

“Come on then, bubs.” Alessia whispered, picking her up and rubbing her back.

You couldn’t help but make love eyes at alessia.

She was so good with Lola, just how she was when Lola was a baby.

You had Lola when you were 20, and in complete honesty, she was a result of a drunken hookup.

When Lola was three weeks old, you’d taken her on a walk.

You’d sat down on a bench, taking in your new life as a mother when a ball ended up rolling into Lola’s push chair.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t wake them did I?” A woman had said, bending down to pick up the ball.

“No, she’s a deep sleeper.” You joked, peering down at Lola who was still dead to the world.

You finally made eyes contact with the woman.

Long blonde hair, and the bluest of eyes.

“Alessia.” The woman introduced, holding out her hand.

“Y/N.”

Well… I don’t think there’s much more to tell.

You and alessia hit it off straight away, quickly becoming a small family.

Alessia loved Lola so much, and on your wedding day, you’d surprised alessia with adoption papers, legally making Lola hers.

Lola had always been Alessia’s just as much as she was your daughter, hence why you loved seeing the two of them together.

“What’re you staring at?” Alessia asked with a playful smile, noticing your eyes set on her and Lola.

“I’m so thankful I decided to go on that walk four years ago.” You replied, getting up and kissing alessia gently.

“Me too, baby. Look at us now, a family.”

“A family.” You repeated, watching Lola take a few cookies out the pack and put it on the plate.

“Gonna pour the milk, Lo?” Alessia asked, handing the milk to Lola.

“Mummy help!” Lola exclaimed as the milk went everywhere.

Alessia sprung into action, grabbing the carton from Lola before sighing, realising the mess from the milk.

It had gone everywhere.

“I sorry mummy and mama.”

“It’s okay, bubba. Look how about you and mummy go to bed and I’ll clean this up.” You said, Lola nodding.

“Goodnight, mama. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby girl. Remember to go to sleep straight away otherwise Santa won’t come.”

“I will, mama.”

—

It took a good while to properly clean with milk up and when you finally sat down on the sofa to relax, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

You turned to the door, finding alessia dressed in a full Santa costume.

“What is this?” You said in between laughs.

“It’s a special occasion. It’s the first Christmas Lola actually knows what’s happening and I wanted it to be special for us too.” Alessia explained, your heart melting at her reason.

“Oh, lessi. Thank you.” You whispered, enveloping her in a hug before placing your lips on hers. “Oh my god, I just kissed Santa.”

“You did indeed.” Alessia laughed, pecking your lips a few more times.

“Santa, can I eat the cookies for you?” You asked

“Of course, dear. I’ll eat the carrots then, shall I?” Alessia replied, playfully rolling her eyes.

After eating the cookies and drinking the milk, you and alessia made your way to the Christmas tree.

Slowly and quietly, you put present after present under the tree.

You both laid the final present down together, the only present that had a nice neat bow on it.

Inside, containing a shirt with the words ‘big sister’ written on them.

When asking what Lola wanted for Christmas, she replied with one thing, a baby brother or sister.

You and alessia looked at each other, knowing you could happily make her wish come true. You had been planning on adding another family member anyway.

So, you were so excited to see Lola’s face when she undid that present in the morning.

Alessia fell to her knees, lifting your shirt up before kissing your stomach gently.

She stood up, kissing your lips. Your lips moved effortlessly against hers, moving perfectly in sync.

The clock now read midnight, it was officially Christmas.

You and Alessia stood in the middle of the living room, In each other’s arms.

“Merry Christmas, lessi.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #alessia russo #alessia russo fluff #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader

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redtsundere-writes · 2 days ago

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Gifts | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x servant!reader

Sypnosis: Sukuna wants to keep you warm and you warm up his heart in return.

Contents: Merry Christmas. Fluff. Hugs. Gifts.

Word count: 1817 words.

Beginning. ← Previous |

AO3/WATTPAD VERSION

Sukuna could do whatever the hell he wanted with his servants. If he wanted them all to sing a song every time they saw him, he just had to order it. If he wanted them all to participate in a pitched battle in the forest, he could ask for it without a problem. If he wanted them to run around the courtyard to serve as targets for his archery practice like deer in danger, he could do it. Lately he was liking to ask you specifically for things since out of all the servants, you always tried to do it with a good attitude even if the tasks were repetitive or meaningless.

The white season of the year had finally arrived, which meant that Christmas was right around the corner. You watched the snow fall from the window of the king's hall, the corners crystallizing as you spent hours washing the floor. You were on your knees with the bucket at your side. You dipped the rag back into the ice water to scrub the soapy floor. Sukuna had asked you to clean the floors by hand even though you had mopped the floor yesterday, a mere excuse he had come up with to watch you for hours comfortably from his throne.

The two of you were alone under the lights of the hundreds of candles in the chandelier. The only sound you could hear was the wind gently hitting the window. You were so focused on your task that you didn't see the king observing your figure without any shame. Your hands went numb from the cold. You cupped them against your mouth to blow warm air in a sad attempt to warm yourself. You had trouble swallowing, your nose was red, and you were starting to sniffle. The signs couldn't be more obvious, you were getting a cold. Before you could return to your task, you sneezed. The first went unnoticed, the second caught the king's attention, and the third worried him.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna asked you angrily.

“Nothing, my king.” You answered, but then sneezed again.

“That doesn’t sound like anything.” Sukuna inquired.

“It’s just the change of season. A cold, that’s all.”

The servants wore the same uniform all year round, so it was common for servants to get sick from wearing such thin fabrics during the off-season. Sukuna rested his head on his fist as he admired you washing the already clean floor of his living room. He never cared that any of them got sick or died from the cold, but for some strange reason, he couldn’t let that happen to you.

“I’m cold.” Sukuna complained loudly. You immediately dropped your task to assist him.

“Do you want me to make you some tea or bring you a comforter, my king?” You offered.

“Come,” he ordered you.

You dropped the rag on the bucket and ran to see what he needed. Sukuna sat properly against the throne. You were about to ask him what he needed again, but he pulled you roughly towards him. Before you knew it, you were sitting on his wide lap. Sukuna wrapped you in his robes, pressing you against his strong chest. You completely forgot about the cold as your face immediately warmed up. “It’s warm,” you thought in surprise.

“She’s freezing,” Sukuna thought as he felt you shiver under his arms. He stroked your head as if you were a dog, rubbing your hands between his and hugging your body tightly to warm you up. You weren’t shivering from the cold, it was the involuntary reaction of your nervousness at being so close to him. You didn’t even have the courage to speak to break the tension.

“I’m going to use you for my own comfort.” Sukuna whispered in your ear, excusing himself again.

“Y-yes, my king,” you stuttered.

Sukuna glanced at you to see if you had bought his lie. You didn’t even deign to look at him, your gaze fixed straight ahead as if seeing him would turn you to stone. He smiled and closed his eyes to enjoy having you all to himself. “Why did he say he’s cold if he’s actually hot?” you wondered, melting against him at his sweet touch. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye as his fingers continued to run through the pattern of your hair. He looked happy. “Did he do it for me?”

You woke up on Christmas morning hugged by another servant to survive another cold night in the dungeon. You had barely been able to sleep because you had spent the whole night finishing the gift you had prepared for the king. Your fingers were full of stings from not being able to see clearly. You worked with the subtle glow of the night coming through one of the windows as a light source. But you didn't mind, as it was your way of thanking the king for being so kind to you. In his own way, but kind.

Like every day, Uraume forced them to form a line to take attendance, only this time, the line moved slower than usual. It turned out that he was handing out black scarves with matching gloves, something unexpected for everyone considering that the king doesn't care if they die of pneumonia. When it was your turn, Uraume pulled out of another box a pale pink scarf with matching gloves. You noticed that it had the initials "S.R." embroidered with white thread on one end.

"Why is mine different?" You asked curiously as you put on the gloves to cover the scars from the night before.

"No idea." Uraume lied. They knew it was because the king had asked for that set especially for you, and that all the others were to mislead his favoritism towards you.

"And what is today's itinerary?" You put on your scarf, tucking the ends into the hole in front of your neck to ensure it wouldn't move from its place when it was time to do your chores.

“The same as always,” Uraume replied monotonously.

“But today is Christmas. Isn't there going to be a special dinner for the king? Isn't he going to open presents? Does he even have cookies and milk?”

“King Sukuna doesn't celebrate Christmas,” Uraume shook his head.

“Oh, that's a shame,” you commented before continuing down the hall to start your hallway. You looked at the scarf and gloves made of wool. “Did he do it for me?” You wondered with a silly smile on your face.

Sukuna called you to his office. You ran in so as not to make him wait a single minute. The king ordered you to organize his books from A to Z. You got to work immediately while he went through documents. Occasionally, Sukuna would look up to see how you looked with his little gift. The scarf fluttered every time you walked back and forth to get all the books out of their respective places. His initials were exposed on your chest, causing his lips to curl for a second.

“You’re not sneezing anymore,” Sukuna noticed.

“I feel better now, my king. The scarf and gloves you gave us have helped me,” you told him with a smile, still working.

“You seem to like them,” he said.

“I love them. Especially the scarf, because it can also be used as a hat.”

You pulled the back of the scarf, placing it over your head like a hood. The scarf matched his hair, your hands caressing your face delicately to shape the gloves along with that innocent smile that killed his tough personality. Sukuna was mesmerized by how cute you looked. If that was the effect you had on him with a simple scarf and gloves, he had no idea what was in store for him if he saw you in long dresses, gorgeous heels, and fragile tiaras. He could already imagine it. That was when he decided he was going to spend all of his gold coins so he could make his fantasy a reality.

You finished rearranging his books perfectly after a couple of hours. Sukuna had shuffled through all the books to make sure you took longer than you should so he could see you longer. You ran a duster over them to make sure everything was spotless. It was the little details that made you his favorite out of all the servants.

“Do you need anything else?” You dusted your hands off after another job well done.

“You can go now.” Sukuna had run out of excuses to keep you locked up with him. You bowed and turned around to leave.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you thought out loud before returning to him. Sukuna arched an eyebrow at your strange comment. “I know you don’t celebrate Christmas, but I still wanted to bring you a small token of my affection.”

From your apron, you pulled out a black handkerchief with small white daisies embroidered on it. It had some loose threads and the pattern of the flowers wasn’t well-defined. It wasn’t fine work like what he was used to, but it was adorably homemade. Sukuna recognized the fabric from somewhere.

“Where did you get the fabric?” He asked without taking his eyes off his gift.

“It’s from the kimono we had to throw away because we couldn’t get the blood stains out.” You answered timidly. “I know how much you liked that kimono and the flowers, so I made this for you.”

“Get out,” Sukuna ordered without looking you in the eyes.

“Yes, my king,” you stammered at the direct order. You bowed and hurried out.

As soon as the door closed, the king hid his blushing face behind the handkerchief. “Why are you so cute?!” He growled against it.

He had never received anything like this in all his years of existence, not even from Uraume. Something unique that couldn’t be replicated unless it was made by that special someone, not because of the object itself, but because of the meaning behind it. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down, but it only got worse because the handkerchief smelled like you. “A small token of my affection” he repeated in his head as he admired your craftsmanship.

A pink spot on the white blanket caught his eye. He turned around in his chair to look out the window. You had gone out to the courtyard with a broom to go to the weapons storage, Uraume had given you the task of finding the rat nest. Sukuna smiled to himself as he watched you shake the snow off your boots and head like a little field mouse.

“A delicate daisy hidden in the snow,” he whispered to himself. His smile widened as he watched you steel yourself to face the rats with your improvised weapon.

Masterlist.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk imagine #ryoumen sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk sukuna #uraume #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk

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saintobio · 11 hours ago

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blue christmas

a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.

It was quiet that night.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.

You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night.

“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”

The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be.

You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”

Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”

You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.

“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”

But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep.

“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”

Marrying someone else again was not in your books.

You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it.

“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight.

And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.

You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream.

Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.

But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.

#series: sincerely yours #sy drabbles

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ar-ghilas-vir-banal · 12 hours ago

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You know what. I’m calling myself out here. I got to thinking about it and I’m going to walk this back.

Flemythal is the embodiment of Mythal’s wrath and vengeance, if I’ve understood correctly. The piece of her that could be ruthless and cruel. But Flemmeth looks like, well, Flemmeth. Her voice is her own. Her body is her own. The fact that she leans into this side of Mythal speaks to her own disposition.

The form we see as being Mythal is what she looked like. She was a spirit of benevolence. She was called the All-Mother. Those are soft things. Gentle things. And in whatever way (I personally think as a son to a mother but whatever) Solas loved her, it was that face and voice that drew him from the Fade. The gentle, beautiful, soft spoken person who told him she loved him and that they were dearest friends and “oh no this mark doesn’t brand you as a slave, my dear friend, just every single other person who wears it, I promise” and he believed her.

And he obeyed her wishes.

This is the person who turned away from him and joined the Evanuris despite Solas’ begging, building a home for her, trusting her. She’s the one he grieved and tried to avenge.

The powerful dominating presence was absolutely there but it was tempered by the other parts of her. Wielded with soft words and a gentle face.

My comment about “he’s afraid of YOU?!” is one made by a person just seeing a picture. Solas had thousands of years to know her. This is the woman who, and I quote: “Pulled you from the Fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon and it broke you.”

She stole him from his home.

- It’s fine, I love you, you’re going to love it. I need you.

She threw him into war. War. War is hell is a saying for a reason. It is. Now imagine centuries of it. Solas went from existing happily in the Fade to WAR. The worst experiences a person can live through, he went right into as a new, spirit-born elf. I can’t even imagine.

- You’re helping me, you’re doing the right thing, you’re making a difference, Wisdom. Wear my brand. Yes it’s usually for slaves but… just do it. For me. You know I love you, right?

She twisted his purpose from Wisdom to Destruction. If you’ve played his personal quest in Inquisition, you know how horrible this is for a spirit. It’s torture. It’s torment. It’s enough for them to wish to die.

- But it’s so necessary, love. We have to win this, or it’s all ruin. Make me a weapon for my war. Serve me and know I love you. You’re fine. Enjoy yourself. Don’t you like the power? Don’t you like how strong you feel, Pride? I brought you here. I’m why you have it! I made you.

So when we come to the end and he’s cowering before her as if she’s about to do it all again, and she just “oh, I broke you… you’re free. We both did so many bad things together because you did everything I required because you loved me… you can stop now, I guess :)” I have to feel like Morrigan was just staring holes in the woman’s back and yanked her back into that idol as quickly as she could. You abused me the same way you did him and now that he’s good and crushed by the final realization that all this suffering was for nothing because you were too stupid to listen TO THE VOICE YOU PULLED FROM THE FADE BECAUSE HE IS WISDOM EMBODIED and got yourself killed, you won’t be touching him again.

Let this poor man go home and take his wife, thank whatever gods there be for her, and leave them alone. Oh and you know what super funny? They’re still going to be cleaning up your mess there too.

I completely understand why every analysis about Mythal in DA:TV is so intense, whether pointing to her as an abuser towards Solas, or whether saying they should share responsibility for all the shit they did, but in truth, the only thing that makes me hate her most is her character visual design.

too Barbie'd for me. Ghilly steals her lunch at school

this woman though. "and I will have her avenged" in Kate Mulgrew's voice. we are in awe when we see her. we fear her.

it is said that Flemeth's fragment has been improving over the years. clearly this has also occurred in the aesthetics. girl, it's called fashion

#I just really can’t stand that woman #solas isn’t perfect or blameless but good GOD at what point does a child soldier start being the monster they were twisted into?

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starrrcane · 3 days ago

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spilled coffee

sevika x reader angst

summary: sevika struggles once silco dies and doesn’t quite really understand how hard it was for him to turn over his daughter for what he’d been fighting for. until she had to pick between you and her nation.

warnings: none in the chapter

notes: this is going to only be three chapters ! And I already have the all written so it’s going to take everything in me not to post them all at once

The sound of frantic knocking woke you up. It was sharp and desperate, reverberating through the quiet. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you stumbled toward the door. The hour didn’t matter; something about that knock made your chest tighten.

When you opened the door, Ran was standing there, their face pale, breaths coming in short gasps like they’d sprinted the entire way.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep. “It’s Silco,” they said, their voice shaking. “He’s dead. And Sevika… Sevika locked herself in his office.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What?” Ran nodded grimly, glancing behind them as though expecting the shadows to swallow them whole. “She hasn’t come out since. I think she might—” They hesitated, swallowing hard.

You didn’t need convincing. Grabbing your coat, you followed Ran into the cold, damp streets of Zaun. As you ran, their voice cut through the silence. “Some of the others… They think Jinx might’ve done it.”

You stumbled for half a step, your heart lurching. “Jinx?”

Ran nodded, their expression tight. “She’s gone. No one’s seen her.”

Your mind reeled. Silco loved Jinx like a daughter. She was the center of his world—the reason for so many of his choices, good and bad. What could possibly drive her to kill him?

“She’s always been unstable,” Ran said. “But to do this? To him?”

You shook your head, your thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. Whatever had happened, you knew it wasn’t going to make sense—not tonight, and maybe not ever.

When you reached Silco’s office, you heard muffled noises through the thick door. You knocked, but Sevika’s voice cut through immediately.

“Go away!”

“It’s me,” you called.

There was a pause, and then the door unlocked. Sevika stood there, her shoulders slumped, her face hollow. She looked… broken.

Without a word, she collapsed into your arms. You held her tightly, shutting the door behind you with your foot. Guiding her to the worn leather sofa, you sat down, pulling her close as she leaned against you, her breaths ragged but steady.

After a long moment, she finally whispered, “He’s really gone.”

“I know, my love,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know.”

Her body trembled against yours, though no tears came. “She killed him.”

You closed your eyes, a deep sigh escaping your lips. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“He didn’t even get to tell her,” Sevika said, her voice cracking. “He wasn’t going to give her to Piltover.”

You blinked, shocked. “What?”

“He became weak for her,” she said bitterly. “Just like Vander did. Just like every man who gets tangled up with kids that aren’t theirs. And now look where we are.”

“Sevika—” you started, but she cut you off.

“No,” she snapped. “Listen to me. Vander was weak. He let Piltover walk all over him, and when it came time to choose, he abandoned us. Silco was supposed to be different. He was different. But then he got soft. He let her in, and now he’s dead. And Zaun is left without a leader. Again.”

You reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

She snorted, the sound bitter and sharp. “Who else is there?”

Her words stung, but you didn’t let go. “I’m here. Always.”

Her gaze softened, just enough for you to see the exhaustion beneath the anger. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted quietly. “But someone has to.”

“And you will,” you said firmly. “But not tonight. Tonight, we grieve. Together.”

Sevika didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned back into you, her body heavy with the weight of her grief. You held her close, rocking gently as the silence swallowed the room.

For now, that was enough.

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika angst #arcane #sevika arcane x reader #arcane x reader #lesbian #light angst #no happy ending #no happiness

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alewritesfics · 3 days ago

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Bridging realities

ℑℑℑ.- 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤....𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: unedited, slow burn, eventual smut/ spicy scenes, some angst but happy ending, playful banter

Summary: in which Y/N's slight actions start to- or you'll see on your own.... His POV

⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️

The night air was cool against Anthony’s skin as he stepped onto the garden, a welcome reprieve from the stifling confines of the ballroom. The distant hum of laughter and music filtered through the open doors, but out here, the world was quiet. Peaceful.

He leaned against the balustrade, running a hand through his hair and exhaling sharply. The evening had been relentless—a parade of bright-eyed ladies and their overly enthusiastic mothers, each vying for his attention, each more determined than the last.

And then there was her.

Anthony’s brow furrowed as his thoughts returned to Miss Featherington. She was unlike the others—sharp, playful, and entirely unpredictable. Most women he encountered were eager to flatter, eager to please, but she… She teased him. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, it both infuriated and intrigued him.

He could still feel the warmth of her hand in his, the way her gaze had met his so boldly, so unflinchingly. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that—not as a title, not as a prize to be won, but as a man.

Anthony shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not when his responsibilities weighed so heavily on him. His family’s future depended on his choices, and his choices had to be logical and calculated. There was no room for impulsive emotions, no room for the kind of connection Miss Featherington seemed to inspire.

And yet…

He closed his eyes briefly, letting the cool breeze brush against his face. He’d always prided himself on his control, on his ability to compartmentalize his feelings and focus on what truly mattered. But tonight, something about her had unsettled him.

“Bridgerton!” his eyes opened as he was called, he turned his name to see a gentleman he was acquainted with (Honestly I forgot the names of them and am too lazy to search so they’ll be man 1,2 and 3)

He sighed, annoyed his alone time was interrupted but walked towards them nonetheless. “I owe you a drink” man 1 said

“Whatever for?” Anthony asked, looking between the three of them

“With you as the prize catch of the season, the rest of us shall receive a respite from the marriage minded mamas this season indeed” man 1 smirked

“Enjoy your freedom while it lasts” Anthony responded “You, too, will soon submit to this ridiculous rigmarole of courtship,” The doors opened a few feet away, a young beautiful lady walking out without their knowledge. “Squiring every eligible miss around town until you’re barely able to see straight”

“Is one lady unlike any other?” man 2 asks “Simply pick the least objectionable and get her wed, bed and bred. Then you can turn to more pleasurable pursuits”

“And more pleasurable partners” The lady walked down the stairs, quietly walking behind a big bush to listen more closely “You may be cavalier, but if I must leg shackle myself in marriage, the lady in question should have more to recommend her”

“Do not tell us you are hoping for a love match?” Man 1 jokes

“Love is the last thing I desire,” Anthony denied “But if my children are to be of good stock, then their mother must be of impeccable quality. A pleasing face, an acceptable wit, genteel manners enough to credit a viscountess” Anthony was surprised as the words left his mouth, remembering a questionably intriguing redhead said that was what he was looking for. His lips twitched slightly but he composed himself “It should not be hard to find, and yet, the debutantes of London fall short at every turn”

“You want the best. Perhaps the queen will finally name a diamond. Save you some trouble, at least of choosing her, wooing the piece is a different story indeed” Man 2 stated

“I should have no problem there” Anthony crossed his arms smugly, making the men laugh

Man 1 patted himself, “Smoking room, gentlemen?”

“I Shall be there anon” Anthony told them before the three men left, leaving him alone.

Anthony was about to leave when the sound of someone bumping into something stopped him “Is someone there?” he asked, looking back. He walked down the stairs, curious to see what it is “I can hear y-“

“You” He said with a smile as he stared at the mysterious woman he encountered days ago

“Pardon me, my lord” The woman sighed without emotion

“I never got your name” Anthony approached her “I was wondering if we might meet again” he crossed his arms behind his back, giving the woman a glance over

“So you might discern if my wit is acceptable? My manners genteel?” she said with annoyance

Anthony’s smile faded “You were eavesdropping?”

“It was hardly an effort, seeing as you were proclaiming your many requirements for a wife loud enough for the entire party to hear-“

“You take issue with my requirements?”

“I take issue with any man who views women merely as chattels and breeding stock” The lady said angrily

“None of that was meant for-“

“Viscount Bridgerton, yes?” the woman interrupted him, taking a step closer towards him “When you manage to find this paragon of virtue, whatever makes you think she will accept your suit? Are the young ladies of London truly so easily won by a pleasing smile and absolutely nothing more?”

Anthony was about to respond when he stopped, taking in her words before chuckling, remembering the same words said by a blue eyed, red headed beauty, some minutes ago, completely ignoring the young lady before him, finding humor in the coincidence.

“You are laughing?” the woman said offended

“no, no,no” Anthony apologized “my apologies, it is just someone told me the same thing before” his mind went once again towards the redhead. Seems like there is more women that share her particular ideals. If they are friends, then he can see why Y/n gets along with Eloise, both a pair of strong opiniated women.

“Then, seems like that person is someone you should listen to” The woman said

Anthony breathed out a chuckle, something indescribable in his eyes “yes…. yes, perhaps I should” he shook his head before looking at the lady again “If you excuse me…. I shall bid you goodnight” he bowed his head before walking away from the young lady

He’s starting to think balls were his thing (hehe balls). Or maybe balls where you were present that is. Although he will never admit that. Or the fact that as he was currently stepping down the stairs behind his mother and sister, and his brother talking beside him, all his eyes did was search around the ballroom, in hopes of seeing a particular lady.

“Anyone here you’ve not yet rejected?” Benedict spoke beside him

Anthony turned to look at his brother, clearing his thoughts “You’re the artist,” His eyes went to the crowd once again “Do you see anyone remotely inspiring?” He cannot help the small smirk that showed on his face as his eyes caught sight of you next to Penelope “We shall have a diamond tonight and I’ll shall choose my wife”

He followed his mother as she brought Eloise in front of the queen, tuning out their conversation as his face unconsciously turned slightly to keep the redhead in sight. He turned back towards the queen, bowing in tune with his family before they left.

“If the queen, in fact, names Eloise the diamond, who will you marry then, brother?” Benedict asked

Anthony turned to look at him “Hush you” He left before benedict could respond as he saw a certain lady leave Penelope’s side and head towards the refreshments table.

Anthony approached the refreshment table with an easy stride, his gaze lingering on you as you delicately poured yourself a glass of lemonade. The crowd around him faded into a dull hum as he drew closer, his curiosity piqued by the way you seemed so at ease, yet entirely detached from the chaos of the ballroom.

“Miss Featherington,” he said smoothly as he stopped beside you, reaching for a glass himself. “I see you’ve discovered the most sought-after corner of the evening.”

You glanced up shocked before a flicker of amusement showed in your eyes. “Lord Bridgerton,” you greeted, your tone polite but teasing. “I wasn’t aware the refreshment table was the highlight of the night.”

Anthony chuckled, swirling the champagne in his glass. “It’s simply a strategic choice. Much safer here than braving the dance floor—or the relentless matchmaking.”

“Ah,” you said with mock seriousness, turning your body to face him “The infamous Bridgerton charm, evading mamas and their daughters alike. I imagine you ae a master at that by now.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement. “I might say the same about you. I don’t see you dancing with any suitors of your own”

You tilted your head slightly “Sorry to disappoint you but I do not have any suitors” You state

Anthony frowned “How can that be? You’re beautiful” He blurted unconsciously. Your eyes widened at his words, a blush filling your cheeks

His eyes widened as well as he processed what he said “I-I-I mean.” He cleared his throat “I meant that you- you have a charm to you that men cannot deny that you are pretty”

You smiled “Thank you, my lord” you said, hiding your glee at his compliment “Oh, I- I’m sure you have matters to tent to. I wouldn’t dream of monopolizing your time. Surely, there’s a line of young ladies waiting for their turn with the Viscount.”

Anthony shrugged, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Oddly enough, the only company I find myself seeking at the moment is yours.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice, though you quickly recovered. “You clearly know how to flatter a lady, Lord Bridgerton. Is this how you court a lady?”

“Flattery?” He placed his glass down with an easy smile. “Not at all. I simply speak the truth.”

“Well, then,” you said, your tone light but edged with curiosity. “If this is the truth, then I wouldn’t dare to say otherwise”

Your gaze held his for a beat too long before you broke the moment with a small laugh. “Well, I hope tonight proves memorable for you, my lord.”

“Oh, it already has,” he said, his voice low and laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

Before you could respond, the trumpets sounded as the queen stepped down to make an announcement.

“Your presence is noted, and your queen most appreciative,” the queen started to say “Allow it to now be my honor to present to you the season’s diamond” she looked around at all the guests

“Miss Edwina Sharma”

You let out a small smile before turning towards Anthony “There you have your new wife” you teased

He turned to look at you “What?” he looked confused

“Was it not the lady that the queen chose the one that is going to be your wife?” You asked

“Where on earth did you hear that?” Anthony said confused

“I have my ways” You shrugged “But anyway, go introduce yourself”

Anthony frowned “I- “

“Go” You urged him “I’ll see you later” Anthony gave you one last look before heading towards the new diamond

“She is a lovely diamond, dearest” Anthony’s mother approached him after the dance with Miss Edwina.

Anthony would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little worried after finding out that the woman he made such a bad impression on was Miss Edwina’s sister, making things just a bit difficult. Miss Edwina was nice, answering all of his questions with sincerity, awareness and intelligence. She is exactly what he wanted if he was going to marry out of duty.

But surprisingly, he cannot help but think back on the featherington girl. You were…different, you challenged him and you weren’t in awe of him like every other lady in London (If only he knew)

“Anthony?” His mother called out when he didn’t respond

He turned to look at his mother, shaking away every thought of you. No matter how much he enjoyed talking to you, how refreshing he found you to be.

You incited things in him he didn’t dare to pursuit more or acknowledge, things that went against everything he said he would never do, surprising considering you’ve spoken, truly spoken, not small greetings like the ones you gave each other whenever he came across the featherington family or when you accompanied Penelope to her meetings with Eloise, but full conversations for a total of like two times.

It unnerved him.

“She is nice” Anthony agreed with his mother, looking down.

He had to put duty above everything else.

“She is…who I shall marry” Anthony stated, his eyes catching a flicker of red hair from the corner of his eyes, he gave his mother one last glance before walking away

⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️

*those in white are blogs which don't have their mentions on and thus I couldn't tag them*

Taglist:

@heyyitsreign

@imafangirlofeverything

@stopeatread

@smartiepants217

@magical-spit

@ifilwtmfc

@kitkat27

@zestygingergirl

@electronicexpertshark

@annareidprofiler

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #daphne basset #daphne bridgerton #kate sharma #edwina sharma #lady mary sharma #lady danbury

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notlhecxzsa · 2 days ago

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The Shade Of Harkness - A.H

Summary: Finally, the day has come for you to have an interview in the company your friend has applied you to. Almost flying away from the known notorious CEO, Agatha Harkness, you were caught in her orbit—and you don't even know it yet. Was it an accident that you also saw her in your workplace, the one you told her you work on? No, maybe it wasn't. Just like how you saw her again at your school.

Author's Note: Happy holidays! Here's the first chapter of CEO!AgathaXFem!reader, mweheheh. Hope you'll like it! Again, this is inspired of 50 Shades Of Grey, so you might see some preference and familiar lines along!

Warnings: Cursing, stalking (but, y/n doesn't have to know that, right?), not that much for now, a little weirdo agatha (what's a dark fic if she's not weird), SIMP AGATHA

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

3rd Person's POV:

"The 5th interviewee will come up in 5, Agatha..." Wanda called out to her boss—who she could also call a friend, peeking her head through the unreasonable huge doors of the room when she was met by a wide view of the expensive city through the big windows behind the woman who was sitting in the middle of the room.

"Hmm..." Wanda rolled her eyes at the answer she received, already used to it as the right hand of one of the woman who seemed to be colder as the ice in Antarctica and harder than the stone that littered on the moon.

Agatha finished what she was reading as Wanda closed the door, almost rolling her eyes at the thought of another stupid presence to float in her orbit. Shame on Wanda for even thinking an assistant would do her any good—unfortunately, the countless employees who ran out crying from her office were not enough for Wanda.

After putting the red head in a higher position, she refused to be Agatha's part time assistant. Knowing that Agatha wouldn't fire her for declining the demand of the job, Maximoff won.

"Y/L/N?..." Y/n snapped her head from looking at the direction where an interviewee had come running to— crying as she did so, to the red head who has been the one managing them all. Ms. Maximoff, whom she learned her name of, was a beautiful red head dressed in a very professional dress, making her feel so self conscious.

All of them here are so beautiful, so professional that Y/n thought she'd only fit in and get a job of a cleaner. Shaking her thoughts away, she stood up, clad in her jeans, comfortable sandals and a cute plain blouse that was covered by a blue cardigan. God, why did she even let Miya send an application to this kind of company?

"Ms. Harkness will meet you now." The warm welcoming smile almost made Y/n feel a little less scared, she was the last one and so, she entered the hug doors that was held open by Ms. Maximoff with little to no hope in her heart.

She offered a small nod and a small nervous smile in return, gripping her bag in front of her as if she was trying to hide from the fatal truth that she has no chance in this and probably just wasted her time driving for almost an hour just to get here.

Before she could even appreciate the view that was laid out in front of her, she tripped and landed on the floor, with the door already closed, she didn't have Ms. Maximoff coming towards her to help her up. Only the sound of heels marching towards her is what she was met with. Immediately looking up with a flustered face, she saw the woman who she'd only seen on billboards and countless news and articles.

She was wearing a noticeably expensive red suit, that Y/n could confirm. Without even thinking anymore, she scrambled up on her feet, already standing up to take the hand that was supposed to help her up and shook it, almost cursing herself with how her hands trembled and felt cold.

Y/n could feel a shiver ran down her spine at the striking look she received from those blue eyes. Great! Just great, now she has more reason to run away and never look back from this place.

"Ms. Y/L/N?" Even her voice sounded so expensive, Y/n thought as she she stammered for the answer she could barely offer the woman.

"Y-yes..." Immediately clearing her throat, the flush in her face was already spreading on her neck. "Yes, Ms. Harkness." Swallowing the lump on her throat, she saw how the woman's gaze stayed on her face with something she couldn't fathom before it went down to their hands that are still entwined. "Oh..." She almost inaudibly let out before pulling away, keeping her gaze down on the floor.

"Come sit." Looking up, she saw that Ms. Harkness was already walking away from her and towards the big and once again, expensive office table in the middle of the room that Y/n wished to take her time exploring her eyes on.

Y/n waited until the woman was sat, waiting for her to motion to her that she can start introducing herself. She couldn't help but to analyze the woman in front of her. She looked so much more beautiful than the pictures she'd seen online, she's breathtaking.

Once again, feeling conscious about how she looked like, her gaze snapped down on what she was wearing, swallowing the invisible rock that seemed to be stuck in her throat.

"Do you want me to wait for you until you're done checking yourself or what?" Y/n eyes widen as her head snapped up faster that any human could to face the woman.

"I-I... I'm sorry, Ms. Harkness..." Clearing her throat, she saw how the woman opened the envelope that she gave to Ms. Maximoff earlier that contains everything about her. Deciding that it was her sign to start introducing herself, she inhaled before starting to talk.

"I'm Y/n Y/l/n, I'm currently graduating for college and I applied in your company hoping for it to give me a certain experience that I will need for when I start working." Gazing at the older woman's face, Y/n could feel her heart trying to escape her chest as she noticed the woman's eyes scanning the whole application form.

"And what exactly are you expecting from my company..." Before Y/n could even continue, Ms. Harkness spoke up, trailing off as she slowly gaze back up at the young woman's face. "Ms. Y/l/n?" She saw how she swallowed for the nth time ever since she came here, Agatha's gaze trailing from her neck up to her lips as she started talking.

"Uh... I know how big your company is, Ms. Harkness and so I do expect that you will give me a job that would make me credible for any position that I would want to have in the future. I can do so many things..." Y/n could feel her throat tightening with how the woman was gazing at her face—like she knows all her secrets, all her problems and all that she is. "I uh... I worked before, in a coffee shop... uhm, I also joined in a lot of organizations from high school and until now..." She tried to find some more things to say, her voice trailing off only to think of nothing when the older woman stood up slowly, her head moving up at the same pace.

She watched as the woman sauntered in front of her slowly. "Hmm? Tell me more of what you can do, Ms. Y/l/n. I'm sure my company—well, I, could give you experiences you've never done before... and you could use in the future." Y/n could feel the heat from earlier now boiling with an anticipation bubbling up inside her, one she couldn't name what kind.

Stopping in front of the table, leaning her lower part on it, Agatha crossed her arms, looking down at the girl who seemed to have caught her attention more that she intended to give a person. "W-well, I also write books... uhm, I am currently working as an employee in a hardware shop. And now, I am looking for a more... compatible job for the course I'm taking and for my future job, which I-..." Y/n shrugged, looking down as if her next words makes her feel shy.

Maybe that was the reason, or maybe it was because she couldn't handle holding the gaze of the woman in front of her anymore. "... I hopefully get."

"Hmm..." Squinting, Agatha, exhaled. "You don't seem too... sure about your... future." It sounded like she was mocking her, and if it weren't for the nervousness that Y/n was feeling, she would've thought about that.

Looking up through lashes, Y/n bit her lip as she tempted what to tell the woman, not noticing how Agatha's fist seemed to be tightened up beneath her arms that was crossed. "I am currently taking a Psychology course... I am sure of it... it's just that..." Seeing the serious attention she was getting from the woman, Y/n continued.

"My parents never really... supported it. So now, I'm hoping for a flexible experience when I can still use my degree on for when I apply for a job in the future." Y/n doesn't seem to notice it, but as she let out an information she never knew she'd be getting out in this, the weight on her shoulder flew away little by little as she continued.

"They kept... thinking that Psychology isn't a good start on having the perfect life they wished for me to have, but, it was what I wanted so I went with it. I know it wasn't just about mental care just like what they always think about... but, sometimes I just hope they supported me a little more." Biting her lips, she looked down, not wanting to witness the pitiful look that she would always receive from Miya, her friend whenever she would talk about that.

But, she doubt Ms. Harkness would even give her such thing.

You do know your parents loves you yo death, and they make you feel that, always. You just wished sometimes that they are better when it comes to the things you wanted, such as taking that course where you see yourself being in the future.

"Stop biting your lip." A small frown of confusion appeared on her face as she looked up at the woman in front of her again.

Still biting her lip, Agatha took her time scanning the younger girl's face. Her eyes held an amusement she never inteded to give as her lips was in a thin line that almost gave away what she was thinking.

It wasn't often that people would open up personal things like that with Agatha, but whow as she to compalin when she was the one who asked of it. Just confused with how easily the girl seemed to be talking to Agatha with everything, the woman felt a little surprised.

"You should not think of what the others though of you... what you do." Agatha shrugged, uncrossing her arms before putting both of it on her side, her palms flat on the table as she crossed her foot. "Your destiny is what you want it to be..." Gazing at the girl who was looking at her that made her feel an unknown... warmth. A familiarity she wasn't familiar with.

An unexplainable feeling of unknown.

"Your future is yours to hold and make." She finishes, still gazing deeply in your fac, as if she was trying to remember every part of it like how she did in the many application forms that fell on her desk.

The 2x2 professional picture on your application form did not do you any mercy, that she could confirm.

"Well... they're my parents." There was a sudden small chuckle that came out of your mouth as if what she said makes you laugh.

"And? Are they the ones who will make your future for you, Y/l/n? The ones who will do the hard work while you offer your life to a boss that doesn't show you an ounce of appreciation? They are your parents, but they are just your parents, and you... you hold what you will be." Agatha said so casually, she almost wanted to stop talking when she became self aware of how personal the conversation are seeming to become.

But, with those eyes that seemed to be catching every word that came out of her mouth, those wandering eyes that seemed be so... sparkling with so much wonder than the world had intended it to be. She couldn't stop, as if your attention caught her tounge... and it makes her seek more of it.

"I guess, I just... care about them too much..." Y/n said, as if she's talking herself.

There was a moment of silence, as you both hold your gaze. Agatha could tell that you were lost, seeing the gears running inside your head to process what she just said. She couldn't help but take her time on scanning your face once more, analyzing too deeply than she intended herself to do.

Too deep that she had ever done.

The line that was invisible in the atmosphere above you that seemed to be getting longer in each moment, was cut short by the knock in the door. Only your head snapping to it, only to see Ms. Maximoff's head and half body poking through it.

Out from the trance you were in, but your attention on the certain red head, the pair of eyes that was burning holes on the side of your head weny unnoticed by you.

"Time's up, the next interviewee will come see you now-" She was cut off by the voice that seemed to be less cold earlier when talking to you.

"Cancel it, we're not done yet." Seeing how the red head's eyes narrowed in wonder, you cleared your throat and got up.

"N-no, it's... it's fine, Ms. Harkness." Looking back at the woman, you almost flinched with how she was looking at you. As if right there and then, she knew that you were the one who ate Miya's cake from the fridge last saturday night. "I can go now-"

Agatha's head turned to Wanda, dismissing you as she stood up straight. "Cancel all the remaining interviews. I'll tell you when we're done." She said, only to receive a nod from the red head that held a hopefull gaze.

The gaze you didn't noticed as you stood there, all your attention on the woman in front of you. Just then, you noticed the height difference between that both of you, how she overtowered your small frame and how her scent invaded your senses.

You hands trembled as it hold the strap of your bag, not knowing what to do or think. Then, it was like a fleeting moment before her eyes were on you again, it didn't hold the sharp professional gaze she gave the red head earlier. There was a certain amusement with how she looked at you, a spark you couldn't name if it's confusion or something along the lines of wanting more information.

As you stand there, you watched as one of the side of her lips turned up, before walking towards the expensive singke sofa beside yours. Sitting down on it oh so casually, she patted her hand on the arm of the sofa and motioned her gaze for you to sit back, which you did.

"So, tell me more about you, Ms. Y/l/n."

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"Its smart business." Agatha explained after Y/n asked about the charity she did on Africa."You don't agree?" Agatha immediately asked, seeing the uncertain look she received from the young girl.

"I don't know enough about it." Y/n said truthfully, her face full of innocence about businesses. "I just wonder, if your heart might be a bit bigger than you want to let on?" She continued, saying it carefully as if she fears that she'll say something that the woman would not like or be offended from.

"But some people say I don't have a heart." Agatha sai flatly, her eyes looking for something on Y/n's face before looking away.

"Why would they say that?" Seeing the confused frown for the young woman's face, she smiled as if she was asked about a joke.

Shaking her head as if she's in disbelief, she answered, "Because they know me well." Hearing the silence from the other person inside the room with her, Agatha felt her heart jump a little at the distant look on Y/n's face.

Agatha thought deeply on what she might be thinking. Does she think bad of her now? Just like what everyone thought her to be. Made her to be.

Before she could even overthink more, a question casually fell out of Y/n's lips that she had caught herself gazing at for the nth time.

Y/n shook the thought of her interaction with the famous CEO in the city of Westview, one of the big cities in the country of New York City. Y/n thought how she was so far from what they pictured her to be.

Those tabloid that reported how men and women were left on her trail with a heart broken and a company crumbled into pieces. She's the infamous CEO that either often bad mouthed on or praised. Y/n doesn't know, but she saw she saw and experienced what she did.

There was kindness underneath that walls that Y/n could see she built so high, it makes her think so deep if she's the only interviewee that Agatha had talked to like that, maybe, the universe was just in good mood.

The interview ended when Ms. Maximoff once again went in, telling the CEO that she has an important meeting to go to. It might've been just Y/n being delusional, but she saw how Ms. Harkness—or should she say, Agatha, stared at her for too long. Contemplating wether to end the conversation or once again cancel something.

With a few more serious demand from the red head, she heard the CEO sighed and they bid their goodbyes with Agatha accompanying the young girl on the way to the elevator.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Y/n's POV:

"Y/n." Agatha said, it sounded so rich. My mouth agaped as the elevator dinged, surprised with how it rolled off on her tounge. I'd die to hear it one more time—what?! No, shut up, Y/n.

Before the door closed, I managed to let out, "Agatha." A smile playing on my face.

Shaking my head as I restock a layer of locks, being in the hardware could so boring, tiring and at the same time satisfying. And what I mean by satisfying is I get to organized things like this.

"Hey, would you mind helping me back there?" Eric asked snapping me out of my thoughts, one my co-worker who is on shift today with me.

"Oh-, yeah, yeah, sure." He nodded with a grateful smile and walked past me, going straight to the storage room.

Sighing, I put aside the box and took a mental note to finish it all off later. Inhaling with closed eyes before I started walking off, stretching my neck as I did so.

"Thought it was you." Jumping at the sound of a familiar voice, deep and with a certain playful tone.

"What the fuck?..." Thankfully, I managed to whisper it and tone my voice down, but with the look on her face, I knew she heard it.

"What a pleasant surprise, Ms. Y/L/N." She said with the same smirk that she gave me so many times back in her office.

"Y/n." I blurted out, waving her off as I started walking slowly towards her unconsciously. "Just... Y/n." Stopping when I'm a few feet away. "You're here?" I asked, looking behind her when I saw that another customer just got it.

She shrugged. "I was in the area of business. Need to pick up a few things." She looked back behind her, noticing that I was checking the hardware. "Are you free?" My eyes snapped at her, not clearly understanding what she was asking.

Mentally cursing myself, I immediately answered. "Yeah, what can I help you with?" She shook her head before looking down while chuckling quietly, as if having a silent conversation with herself.

She started listing off the things she needs and I nodded. "Cable ties, yes we do have those. I can show you if you want." I offered, looking at her as I bite my lip, waiting for her answer.

I caught her staring at my lips, making me pull away and lick it. "Lead the way, Ms. Y/L/N." She said, now with her voice sounding a little bit lower than usual, just then her gaze met mine.

Smiling slightly. "It's Y/n." I reminded before turning to lead her where the cable ties are.

"You know, when you said you were working in a hardware... I was having thoughts about it. But... here you are." Frowning as I gave her the cable ties, which she accepted immediately.

I saw a smile playing on her face. "Why?" I asked curiously, a short giggle coming out from my mouth.

She shook her head. "Nothing, just that... you don't seem like a girl who would deal with so much testosterone around her." Shrugging, she pointed on the rope, and gestured a number 6 with her fingers.

Nodding, I went over to it and started measuring. "Hmm, stereotyping, aren't we, Ms. Harkness?" I narrowed my eyes at her and once again, I was met with one of the most gorgeous chuckle in my lifetime.

She looked at me with a certain amusement playing in her eyes, shaking her head as she took the rope from my hand. "Just kidding." She put everything in one hand, before looking around. "Do you have tapes?" I nodded and pointed on an aisle we haven't passed through.

"We have one inch and two inches, but the truly self respecting handyman would have both in his tool box. Of course he will. It's rare to find a connoisseur these days..." I rambled, not giving her chance to reply, I gave her both.

"Are you a girls scout?" I smiled and shook my head.

"I told you, I'm a member of so many recreational... organization." I said as I look at her things, only then noticing what she was wearing. She looks so simple but so... argh, magnificent at the same time. Clad in purple long sleeves and slacks.

"Are you done checking me out or do I have to wait til I can check these out?" She joked, and I giggled, looking away, trying to hide the mark of an embarrassment crossing my face.

"I just thought how you'd be a perfect casting for a serial killer in a movie right now. We have overalls, if you'd like. Blood might stick on your million dollar clothes." I bite back, looking up at her teasingly, only to find her smirking at me as if she's very entertained by our banter.

Well, I am too. I don't know where I'm getting all that courage to even try on coming toe to toe with her. Maybe it's the way she seemed to be listening so intently on me, hanging on to every words that I say, or maybe it's because I feel comfortable in her atmosphere.

"Could just take off my clothes." Immediately pulling out the smile on my face, my eyes widen a little before she chuckled once again.

"Okay, let me lead you to the counter now." I said, finishing whatever's going to happen in our conversation.

She was still chuckling quietly until we reached the counter when I started checking out the things she got. "Did the company emailed you already?" She asked out of nowhere, making me frown in confusion and look at her face.

"Hmm, my laptop's down... I haven't really checked my email yet, why?" Looking at the computed before I bagged her things up, not thinking much of her question.

"Well, you should. Wanda's been tearing my ear off because you're taking too long to answer and she's—unfortunately, getting tired of me." Rolling her eyes while shrugging.

My eyes narrowed. "Wait... does that mean?..." I asked, not knowing what to say but she seemed to know what it was as she smiled softly and nodded.

"If you don't email back until today, I might change my mind." She shrugged, looking at me teasingly and I gasped, jumping on my tippy toes.

"No! No, no! I'll check it out and send something as soon as possible! I promise! I'll just borrow Miya's laptop." I rambled, and she nodded.

"Your friend, right? Roomate?" She said, taking the bag from my hand and I smiled, amused and surprised that she even remembered that.

"Wow, you remembered..." I said, amusement lacing my tone. "Yeah, yeah, my friend and roomate." I confirmed.

"Well then, I'll be waiting for your email, Y/n." She smiled at me before a person lined up behind her to check out.

"Very well, Agat—Ms. Harkness." Smilling back up at her.

"It's Agatha." She replied, already turning to leave.

"Not until today." I said, giggling, only to receive a shrugged from her, just like that she's gone.

God, the universe might have been having a very good week.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Sighing, I got out of my knocked up classic car—still the car that I love so much. It's from my dad, gifted it to me for Christmas when I turned 18. Thankfully, it was not that busy on the hardware earlier today, I managed to get off of work early.

It's almost dinner, I doubt Miya would be here, since she's been spending more time on her girlfriend's house for the semestral break. But, as soon as I step inside the house, a body collided with mind and warmth filled my body as I smiled.

"Oh my god! I missed you!" I giggled, almost carrying her with how she's putting all her weight on me.

"Miya! You're here." I laughed. "When did you get home?" I asked and it took her several seconds to pull away before answering, pulling me with her on the couch.

"Yelena dropped me off earlier, and you! We have so many things to catch up! What happened to the interview? How've you been? Did you get that dog you've been wanting to adopt?" I looked at her weirdly but in a playful away, putting my hand on her mouth.

"Okay, okay, slow your horses down." She giggled and pushed my hands away, only to intertwine hers with it and put it in between of us. "First of all, you're acting like we haven't seen each other in months, gosh." I exasperated, rolling my eyes with the same smile playing on my face.

"Hey!" She pulled her hands away and crossed her arms in front of her. "A week is too long! We barely even text." She bit back and I rolled my eyes.

"Well, if you didn't always choose your girlfriend over me then you won't miss me big time." I teased. "Okay, let's stop this..." I crisscross my legs and put my whole front facing her.

She giggled and did the same, looking at me with awaiting eyes, making me smile once more. "Start at the interview! Was she hot? Oh! Is she like... mean? God, I bet all you could think was those fictions you read on wattpad." She laughed, throwing her head back and I frowned.

"Hey! You mean, those weird things that you made me read? And, I am certainly not like that or into that. Okay, wait! The interview went..." I trailed off, now did I only pondered deeply how did it really went. Gosh, I knew I thought of it—or her, mostly.

I mean, I knew I won't pass the intervew and get the job, the less expectations the better. That's why I was really shocked to hear her say that I got it, which I took a mental note on borrowing Miya's laptop later that she left on her room.

"Well?..." I said, not knowing even to myself if I am saying it to her or myself. Her mouth opened and I knew I am getting a whole bunch of heavy and loud questions, demanding a straight answer, but before she could even continue, the doorbell rang and we both looked towards the door then back at each other.

"I got it!" She stood up quickly, rushing to it and I was left thinking what should I tell her.

I mean, I know she'll think of so many things if I told her that the interview didn't really went as an... interview about the job, right? And, I can't tell her about how oh so casual did the famous CEO of our city acted so... casual and normal with me. God, I certainly can't tell her that I saw her again earlier.

Miya will yap my ear off about her weird fantasies that I sometimes get tired of... and also plagues my mind in the most annoying way.

"Hey, you got a gift." Before I even knew it, her feet came into my view and I looked up at her frowning, looking at the big box in her hands, not daring to take it.

"What? What's that?" Full of curiosity lacing my voice.

"How could I know, dumbass." She dropped it on my lap before taking a sit next to me.

I was left to hold the box, gazing at it as it would give me answers only to see a note peeking on the side. It was only a paper folded in a half, making it easier for me to get a glimpse of what is inside when I opened it, which is a short letter and an initial at the end.

Hoping for my assistant's immediate answer, Ms. Y/L/N. Maximoff so close to resigning.

-A.H

"What does it say?" Leaning towards me to get a glimpse of the note, she pondered. "A.H?" She asked out loud.

Then it hit me. Before I could even take it away from her sight, I heard her gasp. My heart jumping miles away from the sky. Not bothering to look at her, I opened the box and was met with a brand new MacBook that probably cost my income for 10 months.

"Oh my god..." I mumbled, not knowing what to feel.

"Ms. Hakrness sent you this?!"

"Oh god."

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Author's Note: Merry Christmas! 🎁

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #CEO!Agatha Harkness #CEO!Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

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sergioguymanproust · 13 hours ago

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The strange fascination I have for the Greek gods runs back to a past life that I had and was cut short for reasons of an affair of the heart. Well, just like millions believe in one God ,and a son today ,these notions of a sin and punishment and the need to be forgiven in order to reach Heaven and not ending up in hell do have a different meaning in the ancient gods and goddesses Greek narrative of the afterlife. So,I ask you if instead of one god we hybrid humans would have continued with the pantheon of gods and goddesses ,would have that idea been better ,and done away with the Vatican and the other predominant religions in this world? Perhaps we would be more tolerant of cryptids and other paranormal phenomena. As a shaman I’m indeed more open to the existence of other hybrid races that still exist in desolate places away from us ,I know of a few that roam the 4 corners states and Native Americans refuse to talk about them openly because it is forbidden by their councils of each tribe elders. It is easy for me to have an open mind and not allow scientific dogma to cloud my judgement, as one example as one that says that earth laws apply to all universes ,well,this hasn’t been proven true .Funny that we ask for proof to confirm our limited knowledge and understanding of nature as if we were the ones that have the final answer . This in my book is arrogant and childish.Well ,if the Greeks believed in their gods and the Egyptians in their pantheon of anthropomorphic gods , why are we so stubborn and claim our god is the only one?Even Native Algonquians believe in a great Manitou a creator with supernatural powers to put one case ,you see each tribe around the world will have a different version of one or many gods even today .In my book there’s no need to instill fear in people and obscene things and ways to behave ,if we are all human beings and know what is wrong and what is good is enough.After all we are immortal beings.The final question in Greek mythology is where have those gods and goddesses gone? One day ,a new generation of humans will crest new gods and goddesses to fill in the vacuum of the current belief system .We won’t be here but they will.Regardless of our current beliefs.Words by Sergio GuymanProust.

“Travel Of Poseidon By Sea” (Ukraine, 1895) Oil on canvas, By Ivan Aivazovsky

#greek gods #mythology #ivan aivazovsky #words by Sergio GuymanProust #credit to the artist #male artist #art #322 x 215 cm #romanticism #oil on canvas #poseidon #gods #read and enjoy #read and share #read and review #read and question the origins of the Greek gods

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dxppercxdxver · 2 days ago

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she's a long-lost love at first bite baby, maybe you're wrong, but you know it's alright!

[merry chosen men christmas and a happy new yuri. or whatever]

#radio free junebug #captain's sketchbook #sharpe adventures #arvsharpe #sharpe #sharpe's rifles #francis cooper #rifleman harris #artistic nudity #hey guys. hey. Hey #you ever wonder 'what would happen if i shot all the chosen men with the lesbian beam and then drew them being t4t about it'#because i didddddd #this took. an Unreasonable amount of time to draw but that's mostly because i was being killed with hammers* the entire time #*finals; depression; and general burnout #but also i refuse to let this one rot in the depths of my procreate so you SEE HER NOW NOW #do love how my previous drawings in this series have been:#character lineup. tender butch sharper. perkins study. more upsetting sharper.#and now it's 'hey what if the resident frat boys (term used lightly now. for obvious reasons) of the chosen men hooked up transgenderstyle'#and you know what good for them #also. rifleman harris get Blasted with the My Body Type Beam #sometimes therapy is drawing the fictional men like you. sometimes it is #anyway. WOE T4T FUTURE FUCKIN ON BE UPON YE #caption from 'dude (looks like a lady)' by aerosmith. because I Think I'm Funny

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firegirl888101 · 1 day ago

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Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.”

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!”

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

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