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cherryxbooo · 29 days 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

742 notes · View notes

joelmillergirl · 23 days ago

Text

Hot n' Cold

Word count: 4,898

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, creampie, hard/passionate sex, cowboy🤠

Authors Note: It was hot, I wrote smut, what do you want from me.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You had your curtains drawn, shielding your house from the violent light outside. It was officially Summer, and you were already hating it.

Summer had always been your least favourite season, even before the outbreak when you had better access to fans and coolers. Now, finding a fan that wasn’t rusted and broken was rare, a reality you tried hardest not to think about.

You had resorted to laying down on your kitchen tiles, limbs spread out lazily in almost a desperate attempt to cool off. You prayed that someone here in Jackson would be able to get the old air conditioning units working, but given it had been a year of trial and error, you weren’t feeling too hopeful.

With a huff, you sluggishly lift up your arm, checking the time on your old watch. It was just getting into the evening, and with no sign of the heat dimming down just yet, you accepted defeat.

With no energy to do anything, you decided then and there that the rest of your day would look the same, you laying on your floor until it cooled down enough so you’d be able to have a decent amount of sleep. Your plans, however, were rudely interrupted by knocking at your front door.

You lift your head up slightly, eyes training past your living room to the front entrance, “Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan, seeing a blurry figure waiting through the stained glass next to your door.

Only when three more knocks echoed through the house did you grudgingly pull yourself up, almost limping to the front door due to your lack of energy. You were frowning when you opened the door, face to face with your closest friend.

“I know.” Joel nodded, looking almost smug at your unamused expression. “How you handlin’ it?”

If even possible, your face contorted further into a frown, shaking your head slightly at him. “I’m sweating from places I don’t even feel comfortable naming.” You deadpanned, biting your lip to smother a smile.

Joel hummed, his eyes quickly raking over your figure before coming back to rest on your face, “Tommy’s got people working on getting the units workin’”

You interrupt him, “Okay… Joel? Inside, please. The heat is literally hitting me on the face and I’m about to just lose my cool.”

With a nod, he stepped inside the border of your house, gently closing the door behind him. “Do you even have any cool to lose?” He joked.

You glare at him for a moment before going back to your kitchen, slumping down on the floor. “They’ve been trying to get them to work for ages, I will go out there myself and get them to work if I do not hear that thing running anytime soon.” You point to the air conditioning unit in the living room.

“They’ll get it sorted. Don’t think they particularly appreciate workin’ in this weather fixing somethin’.” He said, groaning as he sat down adjacent to you, head leaning back against your fridge.

He suddenly frowned, looking over his shoulder slightly at the fridge behind him, then he was up, knees cracking beneath him as he moved to where you were, nudging you out the way. You looked at him confused. He nudged his head towards the fridge, “Go sit there.”

You complied, moving to sit where Joel had been, an instant flush of cool hit the back of your neck. “Dammit, why didn’t I think of this.” You mutter, pressing your back against the cold steel.

“Heat‘s messin’ with ya, huh?” Joel chuckled, tilting his head slightly. You shake your head in response, gently closing your eyes and untensing your limbs.

You met Joel four years ago when Tommy had introduced you to him. He’d just arrived at Jackson, and you’d been assigned to be his patrol partner which was only supposed to last a couple months, but you’d been such a good duo, Maria had decided to make it permanent.

Over the past couple months though, your relationship with him had seemingly changed. With recent struggles brewing between him and Ellie, you seemed to always be by his side, for his comfort but also your own. You didn’t always have to talk with him, a lot of the time you’d sit comfortably next to each other, doing your own thing whilst he strummed on his guitar.

The boundary line was ever so slowly becoming blurred, feelings becoming confusing. But like a lot of topics that required confrontation, you push it to the back of your mind, adopting the quote; out of sight out of mind.

“What’s got that head worked up?” Joel mumbled in front of you, dragging your mind back to reality.

You looked at him for a moment, blinking slowly. “Nothing.” You plainly say, smiling at him gently before closing your eyes again.

The next day wasn’t any better.

The air conditioning still wasn’t working and your tactic of closing the curtains to deflect the heat, was now failing. Rather than lying on your tiles, moping all day, you had resorted to hanging out in The Tipsy Bison, a cozy makeshift bar in the middle of Jackson.

The only reason you’d packed up the courage to be in such a social setting was due to the cold drinks offered there and most importantly, it had a big fan mounted to the wall that actually worked. It was a step up from how hot you were yesterday, and the drink in your hand was helping to cool your skin.

The leather next to you sunk as someone sat down in the empty booth you were sitting at. You turn your head to your left, coming face to face with Tommy; Joel’s younger brother. “Hi,” He smiled, “Fuckin’ steamin’ out there.”

You raise your eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Steaming?”

“Yeah.” Tommy nodded, leaning over to peer into your glass, “Some people are out there, sweatin’ their gooch off, trynna get air working for lazy folks like you.”

A pair of women next to your booth look over at his words, eyeing you and Tommy down. You quickly look away. “Can you not speak like that in public?” You huff, close to speechless.

Tommy laughs loudly, finding himself hilarious, but suddenly his demeanour changes and he turns to you with a serious look. “So… How’s Joel?”

You look at him for a moment before answering, “He’s your brother, ask him yourself.” You’re silent for a second before you smile, “Why’re you here bothering me? Go get the air working.”

He shakes his head, a smile spread wide across his face, "Just have to get out the heat for a fuckin, minute. Saw you here... Haven't talked for a while."

"And the first thing you wanna do is ask how your brother is?" You ask, tilting your head slightly at him.

He looks away from you, sucking in a breath, "Feisty."

“Tommy, if it’s not cold in my house tomorrow I’m gonna kill you.” You warn, a warm breeze filing through the cracks of the windows.

"Jesus, woman." Tommy says, shaking his head slightly, “Venom.” He stands up and adjusts his jeans, “Every word you spit at me is laced with venom.”

You laugh gently, gesturing your head towards the front door, "Go work some more." You watch as he walks away, an unexplainable pit in the bottom of your stomach. You avoid the stares coming from the booth again.

People talked a lot in Jackson. Usually it was all rumours, secret words whispered behind a hand as you walked by, it brought a sense of familiarity back, considering they were acting like they were in high school again.

They noticed things, could see the little things, like how you and Joel were always together, seemingly always just alone. You supposed it gave them a sense of familiarity too, finally being able to talk about something other than the end of the world.

Sometimes it made you feel good, knowing other people could see Joel was focused on you, watching as he turned down other women just to talk to you. Aside from the odd insult you’d hear every now and then, you weren’t bothered by the rumours.

On your way home, you decided to stop by Joel’s. The side gate was unlocked, the hinges creaking quietly as it gently banged open and closed. Hot wind. Adding onto the heat. You could hear him before you saw him, the gentle strum of his guitar, a low hum. You round the corner, stopping by the edge of the house to watch him, a smile tugging at your lips.

He sat in a chair he made himself on his back porch, he’d made you a set also, specialised carving in the wood. He had a leg crossed over the other, his foot jerking to the beat of the song he was playing, you vaguely recognise it being a Pearl Jam song. His hair’s getting longer, you can see the curls at the base of his neck, greying slightly.

You step up the little steps up to the porch, the floorboards under your feet creak, Joel flinches slightly, looking over at you. “Sorry,” You smile, brushing out the fabric of the dress you’d thrown on, “Keep playing.”

He shakes his head slowly, gently lifting the guitar off his lap and placing it by his side, “No free shows here.” He smiles at you, leaning back in his chair. “So… Cooling ain’t on.” He’s trying to rile you up.

You roll your eyes, moving closer to him. “Don’t remind me.” A gust of warm wind blows past, a shiver of annoyance rushes through your veins. You move to the railing, the wood burns your hands for a second, having been exposed to the naked sun for so long.

The chair creaks behind you, heavy boots thumped closer until he was standing beside you. You watched as he moved to grab onto the wood, he too flinched back slightly at the contact, you smile. “Ellie…” Joel starts, “Think she’s warming back up to me.”

“That’s good, Joel.” You can hear him breathing, deep and calm. He looks down at you and you look back, “I’m glad.” You add, stepping sideways slightly to bump into his side. You stayed at his house until the sun had set well past the horizon, different constellations appeared back into the clear, dark sky. Only then did you decide to go home, praying to yourself as you walked back that someone had fingers lucky enough to get some cold air working.

You’d always heard about ‘the third time, the lucky charm’, and you’d never given it much thought. But today, you decided you didn’t believe in it, because it was the third day of this mini heat wave, and it was even hotter.

The sheets were damp beneath you when you woke up. Thin sheets, minimal clothing and the open window had done nothing to help aid the temperature; you were at your breaking point, further being pushed when you discovered the air conditioning had still not been fixed.

You tried to remain grateful, understood that the people working on it had limited supplies, that they too had to endure the heat, and the pressure to get it done. Feeling bad for your frustration over something they could not control, you made some lemonade for them all, bringing over a jug and some empty cups to where they were stationed. A small good deed to redeem your attitude.

“Fucking heat.” You mumbled to yourself, wiping your hands on your dress, stepping up to your front porch, reaching for your door. Before you could open it, someone cleared their throat behind you, making you jump.

Joel laughed, moving up the stairs to meet you, “I scare you?” He looks down at you innocently, waiting for you to answer him, a little curl falls in front of his face.

“Yes, Joel.” You huff, opening your door aggressively, “You scared me.” You step inside, waiting for him to walk in before closing the door.

He shrugs off his shoes, leaving them by the entrance, “It’s actually cooler outside.” He points out, moving into your living room.

“I don’t even want to think about that.” You shake your head, brushing past him to the kitchen, pouring two glasses of water. “Reckon we could sit out the back?”

Joel nods, gratefully taking his glass from your hand, “Lead the way.”

Your porch was small, a perfect size, filled with plants, two chairs and a little rug underneath. Joel went straight for his usual chair, sitting down with a grunt. You vacated the chair next to him, leaning back with your glass nestled in your hands.

Joel was silent beside you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes zoning out into your small backyard. You followed his gaze, admiring the wooden fence surrounding your home. He and Tommy had built it for you after you’d complained for a week straight about the old rotted wood that once stood there, now you were blessed with privacy you’d once had years ago. You’d never kept your promise to pay them back with some of your cooking, you suddenly remembered.

A flicker of movement catches your eye, a small, grey bunny slips through a crack in the fence. You tut under your breath, shaking your head. Joel’s body moves; he’s laughing. “Don’t even start. It’s barely a crack, I’m not bloody fixin’ it.”

“I didn’t say anything!” You laugh back, but your eyebrows furrow slightly as you take in Joel’s posture. His smiles faded again and he’s back to zoning out. You nudge him gently, “What’s up?”

He suddenly stands up, placing the glass by your feet, it’s only then you noticed he hadn’t had any of it. He goes to your railing, leaning over it. “It’s gettin’ harder. Every day, I’m fightin’ it, and I don’t think I can anymore.” He starts, leaning his head to the right slightly, making sure you could hear every word. He sighs, “Don’t think I want to anymore.”

You place your own glass down, standing up to join him. “I don’t understand.” You see him hesitate, his body tenses slightly, you can hear his jagged breathing. A warm wind blows past you both, you watch as the trees sway gently in it.

Joel looks at you then, turning his whole body towards you. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me this isn’t mutual.”

You watch him quietly, almost taken back at his forwardness. “Joel…”

“No.” He interrupts, taking a step closer, “Tell me this isn’t in my head. I mean, fuck, baby. I love how we are now, but god do I ever wish it was something more.”

A conversation you’d fought so hard to push to the back of your mind, words you’d dreamt about saying, planning out the best sentences to say that would articulate your feelings best, yet you stand in silence. Something inside you tingles, something deep in your stomach that travels up your body to your head, something goes fuzzy. Then you’re moving to him and closing the space between you, your hands moving to hold the back of his neck as your lips connect to his. It’s sort of an awkward angle, your head tilted back to be able to reach his face, you’re almost on the tips of your toes.

He takes a second to react, his hands awkwardly hovering by your sides as you first press your lips against his. As you moved to pull back having sensed his hesitance, Joel reached out. His hands move to your back, pulling you back to his chest tightly, firmly pressing his lips against yours. You feel him harden against your abdomen and he moans into your mouth with exhilaration, teasing his tongue against yours.

You worry for a second, worry that things were moving too fast. You’d spent years pent up, hiding your deepest feelings and forcing yourself to keep your hands away from him, but with every little movement, every spark sent through your body, your worries slowly started to vanish. As his hands move down your back to fondle your ass, you finally decide you don’t care.

He squeezes the flesh between his hands, slapping it gently before he pulls away from you, looking pained as he does so. You watch him carefully, waiting for his next move. “Can I taste you?” He asks gently, his hands moving to ball the fabric of your dress. He spoke the words with such softness, such innocence, you faltered, almost uncertain if he meant what you were thinking. His fists tighten further, pleading with you with his eyes.

You take a gamble and nod, you think you’d like whatever he meant anyways; he doesn’t wait another second. He gently moved you backwards, your back pushed up against the railing of your porch, using it as a stabiliser as he moved down to his knees. “Careful.” You mutter, acknowledging the tenderness and soreness he often experienced with his aging body.

He doesn’t respond, instead, he bunches your dress in his hands and shoves it up, exposing your cunt hidden by a slightly damp pair of underwear. You reach down and hold your dress up, clutching it tightly as he brings two fingers up to your clothed clit, rubbing it gently. The sensation tears a moan from your throat, your fingers tightened around the fabric of the dress. As Joel slowly circled your clit, you doubled back and remembered that you were outside, you’d have to try and be quiet. Joel, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care, he probably found it to be a competition. ‘How far can I go without informing the entire neighbourhood I’m fucking my best friend on her porch.’

He finally tugs down your underwear, leaving it hanging by your ankles as he gently spreads your knees further apart. He was taking his time, you noted, savouring every second. You didn’t have any patience for savouring. “Please.” You moan, one of your hands let go of your dress to move to the back of Joel’s neck, pulling him closer in between your legs. “Just do it.”

You could see him debate with himself for a second, tease her more or give in. He decided to do the latter. He looked as desperate as you felt as he gripped the sides of your thighs, looking up at you once more before he connected his mouth with your clit. He used his tongue in replacement of his fingers, circling your clit as he used the rest of his mouth as a suction. You jolted in place, mouth strung open and eyebrows furrowed together as he worked his way through your body. You could feel every movement his tongue made, the slow pressure of release in your abdomen quickly built its way up, finally forcing another moan from your throat. You tightened your hand around Joel’s hair, tugging the curls at the base of his neck, eliciting a deep groan from him.

You knew you weren’t gonna last long, not as he moved one of his hands to play with your clit as his mouth moved further down, his tongue pushed into you slightly as he fully engrossed himself in you. His other hand rotated between holding your hip and moving back down to your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his palm, the sensation somehow pushing you further into euphoria. You take your hand away from his neck, moving back up to your dress, you let go with your other hand, moving it down the base of your body to where his hand was resting on your hip.

When he felt you hold onto him, he adjusted your hands so that he was holding yours, fingers gripping you tightly as his mouth moved back up to your clit, his other arm moved around to the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He was moaning gently into your clit, you could feel the vibrations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your orgasm took you by surprise, arriving so suddenly you could hardly think as your legs began to shake and your fingers gripped so tightly around Joel’s hands, he winced. You don’t know how loud you were being, your senses were all out of whack. The high seemed to last forever, your clit throbbed gently. Your heart was beating out of your chest, the slight tremors in your legs not ceasing even after he’d slowly moved backwards, away from your cunt.

“Fuck.” He whispered quietly, admiring you once more before he hauled himself up, giving you no time to react as he crashed his lips against yours, pulling you so tightly against his chest you struggled to breathe. “Fuck that was sexy.” He muttered against your lips. Resting his forehead on yours for a moment. Behind you, you could hear a back door open. The sounds of a quiet hum dragged you back to your senses, you’d forgotten to stay quiet.

“Inside.” You mumble, dropping your dress back down and pulling up your underwear. He closed the door behind you when you walked in, you were still trying to catch your breath. It was hot inside, hotter than it was outside; your hair stuck to the back of your neck. Joel approached you quietly, brushing your hair away from your neck with the back of his hand. He laid a gentle kiss there, when he pulled away you could still feel his lips on your skin.

You pulled your dress up over your head, leaving it to drop down next to your feet. You stood before him in nothing but your damp underwear. Joel inhaled deeply behind you, his hands hesitantly reaching out to turn you around. His eyes immediately dropped down, taking in every feature, every curve. You could feel every callous on his fingers as he moved his hands down your shoulders and over your breasts, teasing your nipples gently for a moment before moving back up your body, where his hand ghosted the front of your neck.

He tugged at his shirt then, pulling it off his body before moving to his jeans, his fingers fumbling with his belt. You smiled at him softly, brushing his hands aside and helping him out of the material. It was your turn to stare now. You traced your finger along every scar splattered across the length of his body. He watched carefully as you did so, bringing his hand up to your cheek. After what seemed like forever, you retracted your hand back to yourself and started moving backwards towards the couch. Joel followed you wordlessly, not taking his eyes off you.

When you reached the couch, you gestured for him to sit down. He complied easily, leaning back into the couch, just watching you. You moved to stand between his legs, your nipples hardened further in anticipation. Slowly, you moved down and took your underwear completely off, throwing them somewhere behind you. As you did so, Joel moved to take his off, leaving you both bare and vulnerable. It seemed as if your body was moving on autopilot, everything started to seem so unreal. As you stood before him, his eyes wild and desperate, you found you couldn’t really remember how this had happened so fast.

Was it just a buildup of hidden emotions? Or had something happened that made him snap? You breathed in deeply, debating with yourself. Telling yourself that you could still back out. Label what happened outside as two lonely people who got desperate. You caught yourself, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head. That’s not what you wanted to do, you couldn’t understand why you were fighting against it so hard. You recognised a glimmer of fear within the thoughts. Fear of opening up to someone, maybe.

Joel called your name softly. You blinked, focusing back onto him. “Stop thinkin’ so much.” He said, sitting up a little straighter. “If you don’t want this, that’s fine. Don’t freak yourself out ‘bout it.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you did want it. You blinked again, internally scolding your brain for a second before you moved forwards. You straddled his lap, knees resting on either side of his thighs, your hands rested on his chest. He looked at you silently, searching for any sign of discomfort.

“I do want this.” You whisper, “It’s just new.” Joel nodded slowly, leaning back into the couch. You smile softly, your fingers subconsciously trace patterns on his skin. It was getting harder to ignore the warmth in your lower abdomen, you could feel yourself getting wetter for him, more desperate for him. He was in the same boat, his cock lay firmly against his stomach, the tip of him a deep pink. You reached between your legs, grasping him firmly in your hand. He was big, for a second you hesitated, it had been a while.

“We’ll take it slow.” Joel grunted, leaning his head back for a moment. You gripped him tighter, slowly moving your hand up and down, causing a deep moan to slip out his mouth. You teased him like that for a little while, watching his reactions curiously. After a few minutes, he leant his head back up to look at you, “Enough.” He practically growled. You smile at him in response, finally lifting your hips up slightly. You both watched as his cock slowly slipped inside you, small moans of pleasure and release sounded out into the room. The initial stretch hurt, you had expected it but it still caused you to completely stop. Joel stayed still until you were ready to keep going.

After that you didn’t need to stop. Even if you did have to, you weren't sure if you could. You were fully sat on Joel’s lap, his cock nestled deep up inside you, his pubic hair brushed against your clit as you slowly circled your hips. Joel was gripping your hips so tightly, you could already feel them bruising, with every move, a small moan or grunt huffed from his lips. A couple minutes had passed of the slow circling, you had passed the point of desperation. With a slight sigh, you adjusted yourself so you were leaning more of your body weight on your feet before you slowly lifted yourself up the length of his dick, then abruptly sat back down, the sudden movement had Joel moaning loudly, his hands moved to the bottom of your ass to help you bounce up and down continuously.

You fucked yourself on him hard, your ass connected with his thighs with a satisfying noise, your moans increasingly getting louder. At one point, you leant back slightly, resting your arms on his thighs as you continued to move on top of him. Joel took this opportunity to play with your clit again, his movements precise. You could feel sweat accumulating on your back, the hot environment mixed with this, you didn’t care. Not when Joel moved forwards in what looked like an uncomfortable manner, desperately connecting his lips with your breasts. “Fuck, Joel.” You gasp, feeling his teeth graze against your nipples.

So caught up in the feeling of Joel inside you, you almost missed the sound coming from behind you. You faltered in your movements to try and listen out for what you’d barely heard over the sound of your own cries, Joel immediately sat up, his hands moved to your waist. “What is it? Are you okay?” You quickly shush him, furrowing your eyebrows.

Then, a wooshing sound was heard and a cool breeze suddenly followed, flowing over your skin and cooling you instantly. You look at the air conditioner, a new little green light you’d never seen before was on. “Oh.” You say, now completely still in Joel’s lap. You were about to say something, but before you could, you were being manoeuvred around, taking the breath away from you. Joel lay you on your back, still sheathed fully inside you. It seemed that any sense of patience and tenderness had disappeared, instead, a more unforgiving and relentless version of him came out, he fucked into you hard, harder than you could ever expect from such a careful man.

You threw your head back, wrapping your legs around his hips as he thrust into you, grunting in your ear. One of his hands moved up to palm your breast again, squeezing it roughly before he let go and moved further up your body, resting on your throat. His movements faltered for a moment, his eyes shut close before he resumed the pace. Grunts were replaced with soft moans, almost whimpers as his hips collided with the backs of your thighs. You barely had time to warn him, you managed to let out a strangled moan as you came, your body tightening around him. He came quickly after you did, his body practically collapsing against you as he shot his cum deep inside you, his heavy breath heating your skin.

After a little while of him on top of you, whispering sweet things into your ear and kissing you gently on your neck, he sat up. You followed, glancing behind you at the air conditioning unit. “Thank fucking god.” You mutter, shaking your head.

#joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel smut #joel x reader #tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou smut #joel the last of us #tlou hbo

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dreadfutures · 5 months ago

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regarding sept 19:

This needs to be clarified because misunderstanding has resulted in some usually very nice people getting incredibly nasty and bullying others.

This past week, many people - press, and content creators - were allowed a hands-on experience of the new Dragon Age game. They played for about 6 hours. The attendees of this event are under an NDA until Sept 19.

After September 19th, the people who played the game are allowed to speak about it in some amount of detail. The press embargo is lifted, so to speak.

No one who attended this event has come out, twirled their mustache, and said they're going to spoil major game stuff without warning.

If you think you're about to tell me that yes, someone did - no she didn't. I know it's too much to hope for but someday you must learn to not hear every tweet and text as if the other person was personally intending to harm you. Few people really are so malicious. If you approach text neutrally you can tell when people are, or not. Really.

They have instead warned that there will be info shared from this event, probably tagged and warned about (hopefully), but the reporting, sharing, reposting, etc., of that info will be - like all things in fandom - a mess dependent on individual fans. If you care about spoilers at all, get your filters and blocks ready for that. For sure!

But again, it only seems like they had 6 hours or so to play. I doubt the people who attended will be malicious or rubbing stuff in our faces. I doubt the people who attended will even be spilling every single deet. Most people who we know & are connected to the fandom that were in attendance have said they themselves avoided main game stuff, because they didn't want to be spoiled either.

So that is the real information, as best we know it, without fear mongering about a flood of spoilers - and do with that what you will!

A lot of people are starting to wholly block all of the new game's tags because they don't want to see anything else until it drops! This is definitely the time to start. Maybe you do need to go dark and hop off the internet to keep your boundaries, or maybe you feel confident in your dashboard, your friends, and your filtered content, that you won't be seeing untagged spoilers being shared. (I'm in the latter category; nothing has appeared on my dash without being filtered, for months.)

Control your space with the tools you have, but cruelty should not be one of them.

A lot of people (on twitter, love DA twitter, where the worst aspects of all your friends' personalities come out 😒) have been incredibly, viciously belligerent to those who attended this event. They have used really terrible language to bully them as individuals and make personal attacks against them. The dog-piling has been amplified by certain people who were not invited to that event, and by the wording of others who are giving "warnings" about spoilers running rampant, floodgates opening, mayday, everyone is going to be rubbing spoilers in your face after Sept 19.

Whatever you think about the marketing about this game - whatever you think about what EA thinks are spoilers - whatever your personal stance on what you want to know going into the game (or not):

Content creators and press, their job is to talk about the game. In detail. It's their job! Ideally they do it as (is typically done! as many of them have already been doing!) with warnings/tags/whatever when something spoilery might come up.

Harassing them and wishing them harm or calling them terrible things and slandering their character is just an expression of your own frustration, lack of control, whatever - and it's not a good look.

#fandom critical #and immediately turning off notes on this #peace

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mirrorcatcreditcard · 1 month ago

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ALNST analysis about Luka's "Drowing Bloom" Patreon post and his page

The following analysis is formulated in response to this query from a mutual of mine. The post states as follows:

I just read the new, free Patreon post and. huh. what do you mean "LUKA has never felt insecure in his life" lmao. isn't it official information that he used to have low self-esteem? how does "had low self-esteem" and "has never felt insecure in his life" go together. unless it's another definition of "insecure" that's being used here? I'm somewhat confused but also that's a funny sentence tbh

I'm here to talk about that, though I'll mainly be dissecting the new Patreon content.

The following content will contain discussions of Luka, Hyuna, Hyun Woo, HyunLuka, child abuse, unconventionally/potentially uncomfortable love and relationship, bullying, and social isolation.

To begin this discussion, I will clarify any doubts that may be had about the exact wording. (I haven't been able to find any translation analysis/translators who can clarify because Patreon posts are already translated, so you'll have to excuse my limited capabilities.)

In the post, Luka's "insecure" mentioned above is related to the word "uneasy" of the first sentence; but when I put it through a translator to get each word separately, they were all spelled differently while having mostly similar/related characters. The words originally came out as "unstable" when the sentences were together. When I translated them on their own, I obtained three different results.

불안합니다 "He is anxious/I am anxious."

것입니다 "feeling anxious"

불안하다는 "I feel anxious"

After wasting about an hour and writing an unnecessary amount of analysis I ended up scrapping, I come to the conclusion that they are all synonymous and simply changed for grammar reasons or clarity.

(If you care, here's a list of English equivalents for the different groupings: uneasy, anxious, insecure, unstable, nervousness, trepidation. Someone who knows Korean can correct me if I'm wrong about anything.)

Next in line, I will analyze the overall picture of Hyuna and Luka's relationship through the years. (Read also, we finally get HyunLuka analysis through the flowers + Hyun Woo mentions.)

Hyuna and Luka were intimately close as children. With the addition of Hyun Woo, the three are almost always depicted together, like inseparable friends. Hyuna consistently allowed Luka to engage in behaviors other humans saw as off-putting or disgusting around her. Lacking expressions and engagement in interaction, disregarding others' presence and emotions to the point of being physically hurtful, and constantly sucking on or biting objects and Hyuna herself—she accepted it all and even showed that she did not consider it queer/unnatural. Luka repeatedly expressed his "love" for her as possession and desires for control. He has been conditioned to believe that care/love is obsession and obedience. He is not able to force the girl he loves (physically and mentally) but wants her near him and subordinate to him so she can never have to worry again and he can control everything around her. This is in direct relation to the fact that he has no worries for his future because his path had already been set out for him since the concept of "Luka" existed.

But don't forget Hyuna's side of this relationship. Hyuna, who originally had her precious brother with her and led both Hyun Woo and Luka in playing together. Hyuna loved Luka so much that she would let him do anything he wanted, really. One of her canonical regrets is how permissive she allowed herself to be with him. People think that Hyuna doesn't love Luka anymore or simply cut it all off when her brother died. That's simply not true. The fandom has labeled them as "tragic heteros," and I think that's a fitting title. They're beautiful opposites. From the start, Hyuna has always been seen as the extroversion to Luka's introversion. She jumps into situations, and he follows.

Luka's love is insecure (translated flower-wise as anxious) because of their past and conflicting ideals. It says in the Patreon post that "LUKA thought the whole time he was away from HYUNA. About what he should have done, and how on earth he could be more connected to his loved ones than blood." I'd like to point out that loved ones is plural. Luka has loved more than just Hyuna in his life. And the loved ones he had either had someone who was blood related who he felt was closer than him (jealousy) or shedding blood seemed like the only way to have those people close to him (obsessive behavior).

Hyuna loves so strongly that the flower used means that her love is "without measure." Hyuna doesn't look back yet still holds affection and care inside, locked away because addressing the love means addressing the trauma. Her "love" also connects to the revolution and freedom. She has an emptiness inside of her, and she makes the steps to fill it with her own two hands. She will not drown in grief and let the two ones she loved most being removed from her life make her stop reaching out for her love of freedom. She was a girl with no idea what she was doing when she escaped, but she has grown into a woman who is determined to live her life for herself.

The contrast and similarity is striking.

Luka's description makes him sound weak, the image of lying down and feeling water flow over your hand comes to me. The acceptance and surety of fate and letting life be is the behavior I struggle to find a word for that isn't complacency. He feels inactive, only pondering how he could have changed things but never doing anything.

Hyuna's description sounds desperate and bold. We know from "All-In" that she still gets vivid flashbacks even when soaked in noise and distractions. She is a person who works impulsively and passionately, putting her whole heart into something. Littered with regrets—she has to push on to survive.

Yet, these two are so similar.

They held the love inside of them deep down, never speaking of it aloud except in the only ways that they know how to show themselves—song. Their flowers are both colorful because of their individual beauties that they show in their own way. It is Hyuna who was insinuated to have influenced Luka in seeing the stage as a place where he can be in control.

They are both empty due to loss, both coping by leaving the past behind and physically unaddressed (despite different mentalities behind the actions). While Hyuna doesn't look back and distracts herself, Luka wears a mask and deludes himself, and they both pretend the world is going to work out the way they need because they are in control in their own minds. They're simultaneously trapped in their ideologies, and this conflict is the reason they are the "tragic heteros" of the narrative.

Moving on, I will talk about the page whose image I will provide below. (ID in alt text, English only)

As much as I consider Herperu the lowest of low, I cannot discredit his words and say he knows nothing of Luka. He made it his personal mission to know every detail of his finest creation. Luka was tailor-made after all, with many fans theorizing that he was created in a lab/test tube-like container. While I cannot give you canon facts for something unstated, I can give you a handful of theories concerning why Heperu claims Luka has low self-esteem.

Luka may have had confidence issues from his ostracization in Anakt Garden. (He was ignored by his peers and, in an official comic, shown to be treated like he didn't exist/wasn't significant. Assuming this was normal behavior given to him in his days at Anakt Garden, there is good reason to believe that when Hyuna left/grew distanced after Hyun Woo's death, so did his only hold on interaction with a fellow human.)

Luka is conditioned to believe everything Heperu tells him unconditionally and holds onto the sentiment of how he will be no good if he isn't "talented enough" as well as his mandatory duty to be the god among men of idols. (He must always be in perfect shape in order to present himself. There can never be a flaw. His autonomy does not exist. He is a good for others to take from. He must be a model pet.)

Luka's only confidence came from his performance and acting, he had no real confidence in himself as a person, away from cameras, or off-stage. (He seems to have adopted Hyuna's philosophy of singing giving a person freedom to express how they are, seeing as he is more expressive on-stage and masks everywhere else.)

Herperu's words could be what is a common case of "assuming you know what a creature wants/is feeling from researching instead of asking directly." (Segyein see humans like humans see animals. If an animal shows certain behaviors, we consult resources in order to know how to view and approach the situation. If research told Heperu that Luka had low self-esteem, then he would believe that rather than ask his pet how he feels.)

Heperu could be gaslighting Luka into thinking he has low self-esteem or gaslighting the press into thinking Luka is "humble" or whatever.

I, personally, don't have full trust of segyein's descriptions of humans because it's obvious that they very rarely (if ever) ask the human how they're feeling or neglect to even do simple analysis of humanity. (Also, Heperu is incredibly selfish and manipulative, without a single thought or consideration being about Luka's comfort, happiness, or healthy living. Honestly, I hate that alien. I hope his dick-shaped head-body snaps in two.)

To wrap this analysis up, my conclusion is simple. It is up to a fan's interpretation to figure out whether they think Luka has low self-esteem, is in a constant state of surety, used to have low self-esteem and has now changed that state of mind, or exists as a mixture of multiple states in multiple areas. Canon's conflict stems from information we cannot fully be sure on, and the creators remark about the complexity of Luka's emotions and the inability for almost anyone. "We don't know if anyone will ever know LUKA's heart..." They admit that there is a limit and that he is a difficult creature to understand.

Extra: my personal theories

Personally, I believe that Luka has low self-esteem due to his view of himself as worthless without his trained skills and inferior to segyein by existence. I believe he has never been insecure because he has never tried to drift from the path that was paved for him. I believe he still knows that the love between him and Hyuna is insecure because of the instinct that the Patreon post mentions; it would be more accurate to use the synonyms "uneasy/unstable." He is stable/secure in his livelihood so long as he follows the life that he knows no alternative from; his relationship is unstable/insecure due to the trauma on Hyuna's end and his forceful nature; he had low self-esteem either from his peers' isolation or from Heperu's reminders that he is only worth something as long as Heperu deems it so.

Thanks for reading.

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littlemissstel · 3 months ago

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Hi! Your Shiu pieces are so lovely - he doesn’t get enough fluff or, ya know, stories in general.

May I please request a story of him attempting to quit smoking because the woman he is into doesn’t want to date a smoker?

Feel free to ignore this, if the idea is not interesting to you 🫶🏻

Lollipops and Smoke- Shiu Kong

Helloo!! Thank you for the kind words<3

IKRR the amount (well lack of) of Shiu media is actually outrageous, he's the reason i started this blog😭Hopefully this is on par with what you were thinking of Xx

Pre-relationship, swearing, uses of the names "bastard", "minx", "Doll", "Sweetheart", "Darling", no uses of (Y/n),mentions of drug use

It is past midnight now and you were in Shiu's car as he drove you home after a long day of dealing with clients. The two of you have engaged in what seems like a thousand different conversations on the way there, but he's not quite sure how you landed in this one...

"You're really not going to tell me?"

"I'm not sure what you mean Doll. There is nothing to tell."

"Shiu. Let's be honest for a second here. There's no way you've only done cigarettes throughout your life. With the things you've told me about your youth, you had to of been high at least once."

Shiu holds in a chuckle, shaking his head with a wide smile at your deadpan expression.

The truth is you were right. He was a seasoned connoisseur in the field of substances thanks to his party days and he does conveniently forget to tell you the part were he puffed, sniffed or drank in his stories of nostalgia. When he first started out in the job, he had to entertain clients by sharing a drink/drag or two, though that was never something he found enjoyable and has since promoted out of it.

It's not that Shiu was regretful about his past experiences, no, He just wasn't proud of them either. He had great times which made for great memories but he knows what kind of impression they can give off and for someone like you- for someone he is trying to impress- he believes some memories are better left unsaid.

"I'm really not as old as you think i am. This is my youth-"

"Yeah right-"

"Enough about me. You're real fuckin' nosey you know that? What drugs have you done, Sweetheart?" He sends you a playful glare through the mirror.

"Paracetamol and Ibuprofen."

This earns a deep laugh out of Shiu, something that has become more frequent during your time with him yet you still take the moment to properly intake the resonant sound.

"I did have a boyfriend who was into a few things though. It didn't last very long."

"Was he trouble?"

"No, he was sweet, but i just don't think i could be with someone who does anything, you know..."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing. No vapes or cigs. Nothing that lingers."

What you said lingered in Shiu's mind. Long, long after the fact. He was somewhat surprised, you never seemed to have a problem when he smoked around you - then again he tried to limit the amount of times that happened. Then again he might be wrong and you just don't like him back.

But he liked you.

He liked you enough to go against his better judgement of pursuing you- no matter how selfish it may have been, and so he liked you enough to finally start his mid-year resolution to put down the cigarettes. That night he laid covert in the darkness of his bedroom, scrolling through an endless amount of forums from ex-smokers and ordering an unjustifiable amount of lollipops, gum and nicotine patches.

Shiu had always been the number one user of the saying, "I can quit when i want" and part of that was true...he could quit when he wanted. It didn't mean he wanted to struggle when he did though. His job was stressful and the only method of relaxation he could find that fit into his busy schedule was smoking. Now he just had to experiment...

Throughout the next few weeks you noticed a few changes in Shiu.

First, he seemed irritable.

Not to you- to you he was just quieter than usual- but Toji had been the one informing you that Shiu had "A stick shoved up his ass for the entire week", though this was after discussing how they were going to split the shares of his commission which meant the statement was untrustworthy.

Secondly, he was less focused and increasingly restless, which drew the most concern from you because Shiu was always well managed. It was one of the first things you learnt about him and he hasn't faltered since so when he started to zone out and tap against the steering wheel to an inconsistent beat you only became more skeptical.

But your last and final straw...was his sweet tooth.

The ravenette was a chronic enjoyer of savoury foods. You had seen him nursing a lolli' in his mouth consistently for the past few days, sure. But when a multi-pack of 300 lollipops sat discarded in the backseat of his car you knew something was up.

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's going on with you?"

His brows furrowed as he spared you a quick glance.

"What do you mean, darling? I've been fine."

"You've been acting weird...First toji says you've been irritated all week but now you've got a sweet tooth and a thousand lollipops in your backseat. I know you don't have a kid Shiu. Unless you're about to tell me you're going to kidnap one."

"I am not going to kidnap anyone."

"Then are you okay?"

The car stops at the red light and Shiu sighs weakly, meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression.

"I've quit smoking. Trying to replace it with something better. I like lollipops."

Your mouth droops into an "o" expression. Well that makes sense, you hadn't thought about it but why would you? It seems a bit abrupt, no? Most people ease out of smoking and you haven't seen him hold a cigarette in...well...a long time.

"Why- i mean, no congratulations- but- how long has it been since you stopped?"

"Three weeks give or take"

"Oh..."

The car filled with a thick silence only disturbed with the low rumbles of the engine. You're not quite sure what to say. What is there to say? He sounds pretty decided and you fully support his decision but- oh...You can't help the feeling of guilt that washes over you.

"It isn't to do with what i said is it?..." Shiu's hand grips the wheel harder for a quarter of a second as he turns to you to speak- but you noticed, and you felt your stomach twist for the second time in a minute.

"Shiu- you know i didn't mean that about you, i really didn't mean to offend-"

"-You didn't offend me doll, now calm down before you work yourself up, hm?"He says, a smirk creeping up on his face and you take his advice, settling back down in your chair waiting expectantly.

"I've been meaning to quit for a while now`, just never had a good enough reason to do it. Now i know you prefer the company of non-smokers, i finally got the motivation to."

What does that mean?

"I didn't mind your company before you know."

"Oh trust me, i know." His smirk now fully progressed as his attention undividedly turned on you. The most focused he's been in weeks. His dark hazelnut eyes bore into yours leaving you feeling exposed- so exposed. You believed him. His confidence, true or not, left little room for doubt and now you wondered what else he knew.

Don't embarrass yourself.

You leaned in, trying to keep a hold of what little control you had as he matched your stance.

"You're back to being a smug bastard aren't you."

"Never stopped."

"Then why don't you enlighten me on what else you know?"

Shiu's breath hitched before letting out a short, incredulous laugh, leaning back in his chair with his head tossed back.

"Green light, minx." He says finally.

After all, Shiu Kong believes some things are better left unsaid.

banner by user030419 on pinterest

divider by @saradika-graphics

I am open to constructive criticism but be nice because I'm sensitive asf 💀 Thank you for sending this request in, i really enjoyed it

please feel free to leave any ideas/recommendations

#jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk shiu #shiu x reader #shiu kong #shiu kong x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fic

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago

Text

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Companion piece to Idée Fixe.

(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery. Word count: 1k.

I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange.

She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me.

The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her.

She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me.

I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.

My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being.

I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable.

As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better.

This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.

When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.

I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things.

She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh?

It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.

Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge.

When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind.

“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.”

This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation.

From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.

In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title.

This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us.

#yes he probably wrote this with an ink and quill by an oil lamp #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #my stuff

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jooillusion · 7 months ago

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SO.. I saw a vid of Junhan in a Fan signing event and op was asking him if he would have “episodes” while being DRUNK. And boy was I shocked with his response… He said that since he doesn’t do skinship normally, he does it while being drunk TO THE PERSON NEXT TO HIM. But he also said that he hasn’t drank with the members that much yet. Pretty please, drunk Junhan??? 🥺🥺

okay first off…240519 junhan. if you know you know.

LIKE given that he’s tall, nonverbal most of the time, and he has like the blankest expression i feel like hyeongjun is so intimidating in real life…after a few shots it’d surprise you that he’d open up to you like a book </3.

so imagine meeting him at a nightclub. your friends bought a booth where he’s just been chilling this whole time and you tried to talk to him not once, not twice, but three times in an attempt to get him to open up. yeah, he’d agree to take shots and toast with you, but his short one answer responses would definitely lead you into thinking that you were annoying him. the drinks however piled up and within the next hour you were on the dance floor, a thin sheen of sweat beading onto your body due to the lack of space in the club along with the amount of bodies inside, the thought of hyeongjun fading in your mind.

you stumble back to the booth to catch your breath, settling next to hyeongjun who just stared off into space. you shrug at him, only focusing on kicking off your heels to tend to your sore feet, cursing at yourself for wearing them knowing damn well they would’ve left your feet burning by the end of the night. once you finally kicked them off under the table, you lean back into the leather cushioning of the booth, closing your eyes as your head spins with delight due to the after effects of the liquor in your system.

your just about to doze off, the loud music fading away until there’s the sudden pressure on your right shoulder that kicks you out of dreamland. you turn to see hyeongjun on your shoulder.

“you’re so warm,” he mumbles, his words slightly slurring. “can we stay like this for a second?”

you look at the empty glasses on the table that were in front of him when it finally clicked. he’d just been drinking by himself this whole time.

“hyeongjun, why didn’t you dance with us?”

he groans. “dunno. i dunno how to dance.”

you nod even though he can’t see you, shifting so that he can lie his head down more comfortably on your shoulder.

AHHHHHH and then he’d wrap his arms around you when he feels like you’re moving too much. he’d mumble about how pretty you looked tonight and how shy he was to talk to you which is why he’s so misunderstood :(. you stayed there, for the rest of the night, hyeongjun drunkenly talking to you about what ever come first to his mind. at the point when it’s time to go, he’s sobered up a little and offers his phone for you to put his number in.

the morning after your phone is filled with texts of hyeongjun apologizing for touching you and he’s surprised to hear that you were comfortable with it all, his ears turning red when you say you found it cute the whole time.

#—꩜ hyeongjun #—꩜ fluff #—꩜ requests #—꩜ drabbles #xdinary heroes fluff #xdh fluff #xdinary heroes x reader #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdh imagines #junhan fluff #junhan x reader #love mail ୨୧

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queerian · 7 months ago

Text

in response to the call for discussion on stone identities

prompted by last week's stream with @drdemonprince and @testdevice

this post is about sex and it's very personal! feel free to ignore if very personal essays about sex from your internet friends or strangers is not your idea of a good time

What does sex look like for you, and what brings you the most pleasure or gratification from it?

It starts with a sensory warmup. My partner touches me gently and slowly in a way that wakes my body up to pleasure. I do not get aroused without either being touched this way or thinking about some extremely specific niche freak kink shit. I tend to be nonverbal during sex, unless I need to break "scene" and communicate something specific purposefully, but sometimes it's hard for me to find my words again. Even without speaking I am very expressive. My partner can tell from my reactions when an escalation would be enjoyable. They use their hands and toys. They are very good with their hands, and we have a LOT of toys and other paraphernalia. I had never had an orgasm, at all, in my life, til we did things this way. It is an intense physical pleasure extended to far longer than I can manage by myself during solo activities, sometimes for hours. It allows me to stop my over-analytical thinking brain for a while and sink into sensation and feeling and being in my body, which most of the time I feel disconnected from (thanks alexithymia!) or troubled by. I do think of it as a somewhat meditative state. This kind of sex is also extremely collaborative and intimate. There is a huge amount of trust and being "in tune" with each other.

Is your stone identity related to sensory issues, neurodivergence, or trauma?

All three! I was never coerced into sex by individual partners, but "sex positive" culture (if you were with me you'd see the face I make while doing the scare quotes) has been coercive enough to traumatize me into believing that I am a bad person if I don't "give as good as I get" and that I'm a terrible person if I don't want to reciprocate stimulation in sex. I've been working on this one for years. It still has its claws in me.

Sensory issues make certain sex activities unpleasant or not enjoyable for me, and I appreciate now being able to choose to not do them. For example open mouth kissing. I like kissing skin in some body places, I like having some of my body parts kissed, but I do not like sharing saliva or breath. I've always been very picky about what goes in my mouth for sensory reasons, and that's not just a sex thing. On the other hand, other kinds of sensory stimulation in sex can be extremely pleasurable for me. I also tend to keep my eyes closed the entire time (I avoid eye contact at the best of times but in sex it's uhhhhhh even more Too Intense) and this lets me sink into other sensory experiences more intensely.

The neurodivergence bit I think is pretty clear from everything else I've said in this piece of writing.

How did you figure out you were stone?

I once turned to aceness as a way of trying to validate myself at the same time as problematizing my own lack of "appropriate" desire. "It is it wrong of me to not want to touch someone's genitals, whatever they may be, to not want to get them off, to not even let them get themselves off using my body, and it's wrong of me to not desire them carnally, to not be obsessed with and fulfilled by them romantically. Thus, I must be ace and aro, because that means it's okay to not want all that sometimes or all the time."

I've come to call myself a "stone bottom" in a deliberate effort of self-acceptance and self-validation. I was long aware of the idea of a stone top, a touch-me-not, someone who derives pleasure and gratification from getting her/their partners off but does not want to be fucked or gotten off. I don't recall seeing anyone else identify as a stone bottom, but as a mirror image of a stone top it makes perfect sense to me: someone who derives pleasure and gratification from being gotten off, from being touched or fucked, but does not want to get their partners off. I think I've only ever seen that called "selfish" unless it was in a power exchange scenario and part of dominance and submission.

Are you a gay man who identifies as stone, or a stone bottom, or some other identity that's less often talked about?

I'm non-binary/agender and generally perceived by society as a woman. I have a vagina. I've only ever had sex with people who have penises. I feel like it's pretty unusual for me to be a person with a vagina having sex with a person who has a penis and the penis is not involved at all in the sex. With previous partners, it's not just that it was expected that at some point they would be sticking it in me, it's that I never got to opt out of someone else using me, even gently, lovingly, and with attention to my pleasure. See aforementioned cultural trauma, lol. Reciprocation simply was not something I could abstain from without being a Grade A Asshole. Back then, I didn't even "actively want to not reciprocate". I wanted to be "good, giving, and game", like Dan Savage wrote you should be in his column that I read in my hunger to know more about sex and be having it a "correct, right" way. I wasn't yearning to be a stone bottom. I didn't know that was even an option. I didn't know it was possible to be a pillow princess and to have a partner that enjoyed this kind of sex, for it not to be a chore or imposition on them, and for this kind of sex to be a mutual sharing of intimacy.

Plenty of people buck the stereotypical straight cis sex scenario of "man (penis haver) does a little "foreplay" for the woman (vagina haver) to get her ready for the main event (penis in vagina), which they do til he ejaculates, and if she's lucky he'll eat her out or rub her clit and she might also get an orgasm." There's a thriving counter-culture where "reciprocal sexual gratification" is emphasized, all sorts of books and guides and tips and porn showing how important it is that "she comes first" or whatever, but most of it still centres around the point that "reciprocity is essential to not being an asshole". If he's an asshole for not appropriately tending to her pleasure, surely she would be, too, for ignoring his. And I really, really strongly internalized the belief that if I am not reciprocating, I am an unforgivable asshole. There's something, too, about the lack of "balance" that has long made me feel morally incorrect. (Points again at the neurodivergence.)

Is it a struggle to get partners to respect it?

I have not dated much, and I have not fucked much, mostly because I did not want to do either of those things enough to do less interesting or more tiresome things in order to achieve sex or dating. I also rarely experience what I'll call "sufficiently motivating attraction". I currently identify as nebulously "somewhere" on the asexual and aromantic spectra, and this is inseparable from the stone bottom/pillow princess situation. All of this is also wrapped up in my one ongoing relationship with my partner. I honestly don't know how differently things would be with another partner. I suspect I have facets that come out in different contexts, in response to different people and my feelings about them. What I do know with confidence is that my partner respects me, understands me quite well, and we communicate openly and frequently about things. I trust that if they have an issue with the current situation, they'll bring it up and we can talk about it and work on things. I trust that every time we have sex, they're initiating because they want to just as I can decline if and when I want to. I particularly appreciate the fact that I don't have to be an object of desire. That they can enjoy making me feel good, and it's not about "having" me. The very fact that someone just wants to make me feel good, over and over again, is pretty mind-blowing.

#autevi sexblogging #queerian

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lesbianherald · 1 month ago

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hello! i want to start off with thanking you for sharing coming home (but not to you) with us!

i was hesitant to read it at first, just because it’s not finished yet, but ofc i ended up giving in. best decision i’ve made :’))

aaaaaaaaaaa im in love with how you wrote them. gosh, the angst hits amazingly, i immediately ran to my friend to share it and told them to read this now!!! i’m a sucker for professors au (we’re lacking in it /sobs), slow-burn, angst, yearning, friends to rivals to friends to lovers again and your fic matches all those! and to top it off, your writing is amazing!

LOVER BOY JAYCE, MY FAVOURITE FLAVOUR OF HIM!!! fawk i just want to give him a hug and a pat on the back /becomes ximena for a bit to just do that/ lmao

and viktor huhuhu holy fuck how do i even describe what i feel for him? i think the best way to express it is /takes off mask/ i am jayce—jk dbdbdjd but yeah i love viktor a lot and i feel so much for him idk how to form the words😭 he’s my favourite and i love love love the way you write him! i love how you were able to balance his confidence and insecurities so well i just want to squish him dhdhdhd i think at some point i was praying he stops being stubborn and let jayce apologize, but honestly it’s hard and i understand why he was very firm. gods the tender moments between him and jayce huhuhu i want to bawl my eyes—i love jayvik so much.

the highlights for me were the catnapping (love this scene), viktor’s mentorship with jinx (my two faves😭🩷), the sisters’ reunion, ximena (omg i love her so much, i want to be her child and get smothered by her love), and ofc, the apology scene😭🩷🩷🩷

this was supposed to be just a small thank you and then get to my questions, but i ended up gushing a bit ^^; i should have probably taken this to ao3 comments instead dbdhdhd

so moving on to my questions, please know you don’t have to answer them if you’re not comfortable! i’m just interested in knowing some of the process authors’ go through when writing fics! and the way they choose to interpret the characters and their relationships.

- what made you watch arcane and fall for jayvik?

- were there any troublesome scenes/parts to write?

- which dynamics were you excited to write and explore in cmbnty?

- were there scenes that you wanted to incorporate, but didn’t end up adding?

- and lastly, other than arcane and jayvik, what are some of your interests?

that’s all!! and once again, please free to ignore the questions if you’d like!

p.s i laughed so hard on your author’s note about jayce not driving a cybertruck😭

thank you so much again for sharing cmbnty!

HOLY MOLY THIS IS SO SWEET AND THOUGHTFUL!!!! I LOVE QUESTIONS!! I'm going to take some time to answer this one so here. Also, I do get into the current chapter a little (no spoilers, obviously, but maybe some lil hints/teasers, so I hope that's cool)

thank you so much for your thoughts on my viktor and jayce! I've worked so hard on trying to make them just the right amount of difficult and flawed so I love it when people see that and says it hits <3

the catnapping scene was so fun to write - and I adore jinx - so I'm glad those two things also hit fo you <3

i first watched arcane when it came out in 2021 because I saw gifs of it on tumblr and was so thrown by how beautiful the animation was. (I wont lie, controversially, I almost gave up on it because the music was so..... choice to me). i loved jayvik at the time. i was really hoping caitvi was going to hit harder (another reason I got into it is I heard lesbians) but I didn't really connect with the enforcer elements of caitlyn's story (I love her but yeah I found it all a bit questionable and I'm very very sick of lesbian cops in media)

i was obsessed. but not 'its time to engage with the fandom' obsessed. for some reason the first season just didn't hit as hard then as it did on my re-watch.

fast forward to 2024 and sorry this is so personal - but I'm between hyperfixations and am very depressed (lethal combo DKSLFJHSD) and it was the perfect storm for me to get re-immersed in arcane after I saw the first trailer on my twitter feed.

jayvik itself hits a lot of buttons for me I just adore. they're both genuinely kind characters who are flawed but want to do good. they have a natural chemistry and I just love stories about people who hold certain gifts that may be isolating and then they find each other and it means that they become the only people who can really understand each other?

I'm also OBSESSED with scientist characters. something about the beauty of discovery. the passion. the way its so easy to create something with good intentions that winds up causing harm. i have close family in stem and did a lot of stem stuff in undergrad and idk. i just really love scientists. my ideal woman is some hot woman in stem DKFLJSHf.

viktor being disabled (which i also am) also added a layer to this for sure. and just. the immediate stakes of saving someone's life. connecting over a dream - that Jayce is just so graciously and immediately willing to share after like. a few hours alone together lmao. it all feels so intense and loving.

2. troublesome scenes to write

so many dfkljh.

the flashback in chapter 3 came kind of out of nowhere for me. i did not expect it to get so emotionally charged- and to feel so much when I was writing it. i left this note in chapter four - but I was sitting on the chapter for days and afraid to publish because I was so surprised by it. it wasn't so much troublesome to write as it was troublesome to edit/reflect on. i got really in my head. i was like this is fanfiction about league of legends characters. why did I write this? DLKFJSHD.

the flashback of their big fight in chapter 5

this one, I'm so glad I wrote this before getting eyes because I fear I would have been very tempted to sanitize it and make it less mean. even now I've gotten a few comments being like. :( jayce would never do that :(

in my opinion... he would lol and I stand by it. everybody is capable of being really ugly and horrible when pushed into the right corner/circumstances. and jayce very much did manufacture weapons on the show despite viktor's wishes - so its something I was really wanting to explore in a modern context.

its just something i had to think a lot about. how far did I want it to go? how could I make it get really nasty while keeping some sort of empathy alive for both sides, especially jayce. how to I make sure viktor doesn't become this innocent victim in it all? how do I make sure that mel, despite being a catalyst, isn't portrayed as like a villain who ruined everything and instead as someone with her own unique motivations and concerns that happened to deliver crucial information? i hope I did all of it well. I'm personally as happy with the scene as I'll get with anything.

out of all the scenes I wrote, this is the one that gets the most pushback, specifically relating to jayce. i knew that would happen going into it, because I think the fandom has an over-romanticized view of jayce's arc and actions in season 1. but oddly I'm almost happy with that? I'm glad that it challenges people. one of the things I find most compelling and beautiful about jayce is redemption. and redemption can't happen unless you do something that requires it - so I hate that people ignore how much fucked up shit he does in season 1 lmao.

mel and viktor's slay-off on the balcony

the end of chapter 11 where mel and viktor talk I just knew was going to be incredibly important. it was one of those moments I was leading up to the whole time, because I knew it would be very relevant in future chapters (wink wink) and because its such a culmination of everything that's happened so far.

on my first write of it, i think because I was afraid of it, I focused way more on the logistics of what was happening with noxus and the board etc etc. it took me a while to find a balance between plot and emotion I was comfortable with.

for some reason the entire time i knew they were going to wind up laughing together. that was very emotionally important to me. but getting there was uhh... hard. again. I'm not saying I did this (or the above scenes) perfectly like good god. but yeah this one was a hard journey.

very important/high-stakes scene in chapter 13

there is a very big scene that I've had planned the whole time that, after season 2, I found important to take in a slightly darker and more dramatic direction. a lot of reasons I was torn on this - 1 - allowing season 2 to influence my writing is something I'm hesitant about. but also this is FANFIC so I decided that's kind of the point.

but its very much been a very delicate balance of a few things - 1. how do I not get preachy and let my anger at the particular storyline in season 2 affect how I write this? 2. this deals with jayce and viktor being witnesses to other characters struggles vs being at the center of it themselves? so I have to deal with how much they can actually be present. (this was also a struggle I had when Vi and Jinx reunited) how much they would logically witness before it feels like they're only present so I can continue telling the story. 3. because its such a dramatic scene, how do I make the dialogue feel real? how do I not let a particular character speak their feelings too much while also giving people a good window into their psyche? 4. how high the stakes should be. (this I will elaborate on once its out)

i am incredibly nervous for this scene. more so than anything else I've written in this fic. I'm still working on my first draft of the chapter and am going to spend so so much time in the next drafts on it. it's going to be really hard to land this one - and I really wanna do it right.

the final scene :)

i still dont have my final scene. i know where its happening, what thematically I want of it, how we get there, and I know I'm writing it today.

there was a moment where I almost went in a direction I think people would like- but have decided against ultimately. it felt too... cliche and a bit unearned.

additionally, with characters like viktor, who really struggle with saying what's on their mind, I have to play a very careful game of giving him bits of dialogue that land and feel like growth, without feeling unearned or unnatural.

3. which dynamics were you excited to write and explore in cmbnty?

aside from the obvious, jinx and viktor (honestly after season 2, i wish i explored jayce and ekko more), mel and viktor, cait and jayce.

4. were there scenes that you wanted to incorporate, but didn’t end up adding?

there's nothing huge that jumps out at me. honestly, I think there are probably some things I could have condensed more looking at the word count. i think the only thing is I had an idea for a flashback last chapter that dealt with jayce in the aftermath of viktor leaving, but I couldn't find a way to make it relevant, and it ultimately felt very overindulgent and melodramatic in the outline in a way I really didn't fuck with.

and lastly, other than arcane and jayvik, what are some of your interests?

:) i'm really into film. i'm a bit of a film bro lmao. i like video games (huge bg3 fan). true to my ao3 name i love cats and animals in general. I'm fascinated with outer space, physics, astrobiology. I'm also a huge history nerd, especially "weird" and unheard of history.

my whole life is writing really. in a way that's probably not super healthy lmao but it is what it is.

I am so sorry for the insane yap session I just went on. hopefully it doesn't come off overindulgent or like self involved. i just love chit chatting haha and happen to be fully on a break from work for a few weeks so I have a ton of time on my hands dfklasjdf

#holy shit im so sorry for talking so much today guys #im on a break right now so i really am just #yapping #maybe im stalling finishing the final chapter lol #im gonna go do that now :)#ask bee

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taintedtort · 2 years ago

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prompt ✧ you don’t say i love you back

characters ✧ albedo, kazuha, aether

warnings ✧ gn!reader, aether calls you honey

a/n ✧ this is a pt 2… albedo as promised (and yes i used kazuha‘s bday haiku, im unoriginal and hate poetry)

ALBEDO

✧ confused

the two of you were walking back to his cave in the snow, hands intertwined together with them both stuffed into one of albedos pockets. he insists he doesn’t need lots of layers, having been used to the cold for quite some time, but you force him to put on a coat anyway. he secretly thinks it’s endearing how you dote on him though.

you weren’t in a hurry. the wind was calm and there weren’t any monsters on this path, it was peaceful. the snow crunched under your shoes as you walked, the sound a harsh contrast to that of the quiet mountain.

you were lost in your thoughts until you saw albedo point past your head. you turned, expecting a monster, but instead found a pretty flower. you quickly recognized it as the flower albedo needed for one of his experiments.

you made a sound of enthusiastic surprise before pulling away from him to retrieve it. you stepped over sticks and rocks to reach it, carefully pulling at the stem.

once you got it, you stumbled your way back over to albedo, a huge smile on your face. you proudly presented the item, making a cheesy comment about you getting him flowers.

it was moments like these that made his heart swell with adoration towards you, and he couldn’t help but tell you just how he felt.

"i love you very much, you make me feel things i’ve never experienced before. thank you."

his words completely caught you off guard, making your cheeks heat up. you almost responded on instinct, but remembered your joke you’ve been wanting to try. you’ve been waiting for days, you couldn’t pass this opportunity to prank him!

you weren’t so heartless as to simply nod at his words, so you flashed a smile and pecked his cold cheek. you turned to keep walking and he followed, not saying anything else. if you could see his face, you’d see the confused furrow in his brow.

once arrived back to his warm cave, you sat on the bed. the walk into mondstadt was too long, your feet ached from the excessive walking as well as the cold.

while you lay with your eyes closed, you could feel albedo staring. you knew he most likely caught on to your joke and was trying to find the most likely scenario to your lack of response.

he doesn’t say it often, so he knows when he does it’s more special, that’s why you always make an effort to say it back. were you upset? no… there’s no indication youre angry with him. did you just not feel like it? maybe you didn’t feel the same amount of love for him in that moment that he did for you.

he tried to brush it off but couldn’t, he doesn’t like not knowing things. that reason was why he walked over and joined you on the bed instead of using the flower you picked for him to finish his project. when you felt him sink down next to you, you were a bit surprised. he doesn’t usually break from his experiments, especially after finally getting the last thing he needed after looking for so long.

he turned on his side and propped his head up with his hand, letting his other run through your hair. the action brought a content smile to your face. you let yourself relax for a moment before he spoke up.

"are you alright?"

you knew his words had another meaning, but you didn’t give in just yet. you told him you were great besides your feet hurting a little.

"…are you sure?"

his tone was quiet and cautious, not wanting to make you angry at him for pushing. obviously you would never get upset over something like that, but he was being careful.

when you looked at him he was staring at your face, his eyes filled with pure love, but his lips were bent down. his expression made your heart sink, you knew your little joke might upset him but it still made you feel terrible.

you instantly apologized and told him you loved him, turning on your side to face him before wrapping your arms around his torso, your face buried in his chest. you felt him exhale as he returned the embrace.

"were you just teasing me again?"

when he felt you nod he swore he felt ten times lighter. he was seriously worried for a second. he was sort of disappointed in himself for not catching on though, usually he could read you like a book.

"ah, i see. you got me."

KAZUHA

✧ instantly knew

you stood looking over the edge of the ship, staring at the seemingly endless ocean. the crew was bustling behind you, but you were used to the noise so it didn’t bother you.

you felt hands sneak around your waist and a chin rest on your shoulder, a calm voice muttering in your ear. instantly knowing it was kazuha, you turned in his embrace. greeting him with a smile and a quiet 'hi.'

"hi back. i was looking for you."

you smiled at the look on his face. totally smitten. he knew he looked like a lovesick idiot, but he didn’t care. you brought your hands up to his cheeks and smooshed them a little, asking what he needed you for.

"i want you to listen to my haiku, please."

you teased him a little, asking if it was about you, to which he responded with a nod. once you agreed, like always, his voice dropped into a smooth, quiet tone while he recited.

"sun and moon rejoice

birds of dawn sing songs anew

far from home, with you"

he smiled sheepishly when he finished, stating he knows he’s not very good but he tried anyway, like he always says. you shook your head and planted a kiss to his cheek, telling him you loved it and that it was beautiful.

"well thank you, i love you."

he punctuated his words with a firm kiss to your lips. when you parted and didn’t say anything back, he stared at you, scanning your face and waiting.

you tried to keep a straight face, not wanting to give yourself away. but when his staring became too much for you, you let out a huffy laugh, disguising it as a confused one as you furrowed your brow and asked him what was wrong.

he squinted at you accusingly, letting his arms let go of your waist and instead grab onto the side of the ship behind you, trapping you between them. he leaned closer to you, slowly. your heart sped up as you felt his breath on your lips. when he stopped short, hovering over your mouth and not connecting your lips to his, you decided to take the initiative. however, when you leaned forward, he leaned away.

your eyes, which were not all the way closed, opened fully as you huffed at his teasing. you leaned away from him and put your hands on his shoulders. he chuckled at your annoyed face, knowing you hated when he tricked you out of a kiss.

"i’ll let you kiss me if you just say it back."

you knew he knew you were messing with him, that’s why he had to tease you back. it was fair— but that didn’t mean you disliked it any less. with a sigh you apologized and repeated the phrase back to him.

he quickly leaned forward and captured your lips in his, kissing you passionately.

"see? that wasn’t so hard."

AETHER

✧ thought you were upset

you two were doing commissions together like normal. it wasn’t a hard one, aether doesn’t let you go with him on ones he deems too dangerous. you don’t blame him, he’s just a bit paranoid and protective after losing his sister. honestly, if anything it makes you feel safe and loved, knowing he cares about you. but then again you care about him just as much, you wanna be there to help him if he’s hurt! whenever you bring up that argument though, paimon pipes up, claiming she‘ll watch over your long haired boyfriend for you.

but one of those instances is not today. it was peaceful and calm. the commission itself was to find a specific location and take some photos for an old artist who couldn’t make the trip himself. easy stuff, just follow the directions and— oh, there’s a mountain.

"what— oh no. we don’t have to climb that do we?"

aether groaned, flipping frantically back through the directions, making sure you weren’t just supposed to go around it. he sighed and let the paper fall to his side as he realized that yes— you did have to climb the entire mountain, because the location was at the very top. the commissioner failed to mention that part.

you assured him that it’d be fine, saying that the reward you’ll get after will be worth it. which all in all… it really won’t be. it was severely underpaid for the height of the mountain.

"you’re sure you’ll be fine? you won’t fall, right?"

you heard the anxious tone in his voice and reassured him with a firm nod and a kiss on the cheek. he made you pinkie promise to him that you will not fall, and that if you feel yourself getting tired you’ll tell him so he can help.

after taking a deep breath, you both scaled up the mountain. you both had done this many times before, so you weren’t too worried. however, the sheer size of the structure was a bit unsettling.

to say you were relieved when coming to realize there were some cliffs to sit on for a break would be an understatement. you counted 4 total cliff sides that seemed to stick out enough to fit your body, so that’s how you paced yourself.

aether naturally noticed the same thing and followed your lead, hauling himself up onto each ledge and waiting for a few moments before continuing.

he was letting you lead, staying a little ways below you so he could react if you fell. he knew you’d be fine, you’d never fallen before and he didn’t think you would any time soon, but he still couldn’t help but worry just a little.

once you finally reached the top, you turned to pull aether the rest of the way up. but you failed to notice the steep hill that went downwards a few feet away from the ledge.

when you pulled him up, you took a couple steps back to ensure he didn’t fall back over the edge, causing you to lose your footing and tumble down the hill. you heard your lover shout out your name in concern while he tried to grab onto your arm, but he was a second too late.

leafs and sticks were pilled up, making it hard to find your footing. you continued sliding till you reached the bottom, covered in dirt and a few leafs. you heard aether running down after you, yelling out your name and asking if you were okay.

once he reached you, he knelt down, the panic clear in his eyes. his hand instinctively reached for your arm, gently holding it while doing a once over of your body.

"are you alright? i’m so sorry i let you fall! you didn’t break anything did you?"

you started laughing at yourself, kind of embarrassed that he just saw you roll down a hill. he didn’t find it funny though, not a trace of a smile making its way to his face. you had to reassure him that you were completely fine, and he still made sure to check every one of your limbs for broken bones, and even pulled your shirt up to examine your back for scratches.

once he was sure you weren’t seriously injured, he helped you up and took the leafs out of your hair and off your clothes, dusting the dirt off you in the process. after you were relatively cleaned off, he placed a firm kiss to your lips.

"archons… you scared me, i love you."

you flashed him a smile and replied with a simple 'yeah!' before moving around him to keep walking. you heard his hurried footsteps as he caught up to you, intertwining your fingers with his and pulling you to a stop.

"woah woah, what’s wrong? are you okay? seriously."

his expression was that of a kicked puppy, making your heart melt. his lips were turned downward and his eyebrows were drawn together, making his eyes look even softer than usual. you nodded at his questioning, telling him you were completely alright and that he didn’t need to worry about you.

he assumed you thought he meant if you were okay physically, so he quickly clarified with a defeated tone.

"i know you’re fine physically. but you didn’t say it back, is something the matter, honey?"

the nickname mixed with his hand tightly clutching yours was too much, you couldn’t take it. you pulled him into a tight hug and told him you were just teasing him. you said that you loved him more than anyone in the whole world and that he meant everything to you.

you followed up your words with a loving kiss to his lips, leaving him stunned. you noticed his ears reddening, but he quickly recovered and gripped your hand even tighter, moving in front of you to pull you along behind him.

"just teasing huh? i’ll get you back for that later."

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atrophiedemotion · 5 months ago

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okay doc *lies down on the therapy couch* tell me about aspd Ivan

(you don’t have to obviously I’m just curious)(love you)

hello valued patient, i will very gladly tell you about aspd ivan. (love you too tysm for the question)

before i start this i just want to add a disclaimer that i do not have aspd. if anyone with aspd says i'm wrong on this definitely believe them before me, this is just a personal headcanon. (i have discussed this with a friend w aspd who agrees with me and im in a similar wheelhouse to aspd, so i have a good amount of knowledge due to that and a lot of research, which is where the headcanon stems from)

okay, so to fully speak about how and why i see ivan with aspd i'm going to also mention the other pd i headcanon ivan with because i want to fully express my perception of him. i personally interpret ivan as having an aspd/npd combination (aspd im more sure of). i see aspd as something ivan was born with a predisposition for (reduced gray matter in the brain, less MAO-A, etc) that got solidified in his very early childhood growing up in the slums and going through the whole 'hung off the top of a building and threatened with death if he didn't make the cut' thing. genetics and trauma, the usual causes. npd is something i imagine him developing later on in life ofc, slowly over time. his chosen survival method being creating a fake persona others admire and his nonexistent self worth & horrible self loathing lead to him developing it (kind of as a subconscious coping mechanism).

okay, with that out of the way, why do i think ivan has aspd?

well. there are a lot of reasons. for one, vivinos and qmeng themselves say that ivan doesn't experience emotions in the same way others do, that he has a 'twisted' personality, he manipulated others to 'play with their feelings', that there was 'something off' about him, etc. while the way these are worded are a little,, derogatory,, it's all very important to ivan's character.

ivan's emotions are muted and dulled compared to others', he literally physically cannot experience them in the same way neurotypicals (in terms of pds) can. from that and other examples in alnst (setting up the wagyein incident w mizi & till, his reaction to his win in r3, his lack of care when it comes to lying & manipulation, etc) it can be pretty safely assumed that ivan doesn't really experience empathy. that's why he learns from other's visible emotions and mirrors them, because he doesn't feel them and instead adopts other people's reactions so he can react/act accordingly/'normally' (specifying here that not having empathy does not mean someone cannot feel sympathy or care about anyone. empathy is being able to feel/pick up on someone else's emotions it does NOT mean someone is uncaring okay thanks moving on).

ivan's tendency to manipulate and lie isn't really explicitly shown much in alnst but the implications are there and very telling imo. before i get into this i want to also specify that 'manipulate' is not the big scary evil word most people think it is and literally everyone does it. to manipulate is to try to have control over a situation, to influence someone/something to get your ideal outcome/get your needs met. many people with cluster b pds learn to manipulate from a young age as a survival mechanism because it is the only way to get the things they need. in ivan's case, his entire fake persona for the aliens and his placations and straight up lying to his peers/teachers/fans etc about his feelings and personality is all manipulation to paint himself in a more favorable light so he has a higher chance of survival. i also wouldn't put it past him to casually manipulate other students at anakt when he was younger so he could learn/observe more things (which was shown with the wagyein incident but i imagine that wasn't the only occasion). i've talked about ivan using subterfuge and disguising his actual intentions behind his odd behaviors which, yk, is manipulation.

when it comes to violence, ivan really doesn't seem to be outwardly violent unless provoked, but when he is he's uncaring about the pain he's causing the other (till lmao) and more focused on what he gets out of the exchange (till's attention & expressions and, imo, a physical stress release). i wasn't sure i was going to bring it up bc i wasn't going to get into the whole pwaspd are violent thing (i dont think it's true for everyone. thoughts and urges are different than actions) but i wanted to talk about ivan's lack of awareness when it comes to it. he impulsively fights back, doesn't pull his punches, and revels in it.

there's also his apparent lack of remorse for his actions (stepping on the flower crown, fighting till, leading mizi and till into danger, all that) and impulsivity when he's not masking (though i consider ivan to be a more calculating individual, a lot of his interactions with till show him doing things impulsively). his difficulty in forming intimate emotional connections with others, his lack of self worth and general lack of care for his own wellbeing, his fatalistic world view.

all of these are symptoms of aspd. im not going to pull out the dsm-5 (ew) because i hate the way it words things (love stigma against mentally ill folks), but all of the things i talked about go along with aspd, which is why i personally think ivan has it. a genetic predisposition, a fuckton of trauma in early childhood (qmeng refers to his time in the slums as a 'dark past') and onward through anakt and beyond, and his lack of emotional understanding. all of it lends itself to aspd. i think this adds a whole new level of understanding to ivan and his reasons for things and just. why he is the way he is. and figuring this out for myself made me love ivan all the more. all of the alnst characters are just traumatized kids who never learned how to live and be human and ivan having an even different baseline than most others put him even more at a disadvantage.

i just want to, like. give this guy therapy or at least make sure he knows that it’s not his fault that his mind works the way it does and there’s nothing wrong with it. and with that, i shall end it here LMAO. tysm rock for the ask ik i asked if you were okay with an essay but this is longer than i anticipated skxjsn i hope you liked it!! and if anyone has any other questions about aspd or npd ivan lmk personality disorders are one of my special interests i love talking about this stuff ajxnsn

#not going to proofread this it’s just being released into the wild #very slightly nervous about how this will be received but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#tyyy for the ask again rock! <3 #alnst ivan #alnst meta #cast's analyses #ask #rockwgooglyeyes

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queserasora · 4 months ago

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Nanami Kento | JJK Series: Part 2 of Love Kills | Fem! Reader, She/Her Previous WORD COUNT: 6k and honestly it would have been more if I wasn’t yelling at myself CONTENT: NSFW / public nudity because y/n doesn’t own clothes apparently, oral male giving female receiving, shower shenanigans with more fluff than you would imagine actually, profanity, fingering, vaginal penetration, cervix fucking? Kisses? Whatever the kids are calling it these days, and some moderate amount of creampie A BAD SUMMARY: The one where Nanami and Y/N get a hotel room to prepare for the mission and to wash off the sweat, the rental car is still on fire, Nanami learns a thing or two about curly hair care, and there is absolutely no smoking allowed in the presidential suite

the rental is still on fire when you begin to walk away, barefoot in only your underwear and too tight black blazer. Nanami walks beside you, mostly dressed save for the jacket he left in the car. you try not to scowl, it wouldn’t be fair to him, after all he had offered you his shoes.

you had declined, not keen on looking further like a clown.

your pride took precedence in that moment, and it was something you would come quickly to regret.

the asphalt under your bare feet was hot, so you walked with light steps; almost dancing. you could feel Nanami’s eyes on you and he’d occasionally pull you by the elbow away from traffic, doing his best to hide you with his larger body from the passing cars.

this was a ridiculous situation, but even in the face of it, nanami kento never forgot to be a gentleman. the jury was still out on whether you liked that or not.

Luckily, your legs hadn’t given out by the time you reached the hotel, although you almost wish they had. You hesitate entering–dressed as you are, with nothing but your panties and blazer. Nanami stops you before you lose what’s left of your pride, and asks you to wait outside. You decide to hide back by the dumpster after several glances and whispers while you stand near the lobby entrance steal your courage.

Now that the heat of nanami’s mouth was no longer clouding your senses, you realize just how stupid you had been. You had sworn to yourself, every night that you dared to think of him, that you would never allow this to happen; that some fantasies should remain as only that. You had sworn to never clash your mouth against his, never allow yourself to explore the hardened edges of his body. You knew the risks outweigh the benefits of such encounters.

Nanami Kento was too reliable, almost normal. It would be too easy to fall into the trap of dreams and make believe. It would be too easy to end up believing in happily ever afters.

There was no way you could allow that to happen.

He comes out at last, and disrupts your thoughts–casting them askew on the dirty parking lot.

“I was looking for you,” he says, brows raised. If you hadn’t known him, observed him as obsessively as you did, his annoyance wouldn’t be so evident. Nanami Kento was very good at keeping his expression emotionless. He liked structure, and rules. He adhered to his schedule, and constantly looked at his watch. It was something that had bothered you at first and you felt like a hypocrite. How could you call him rude when you were the very epitome of mannerless?It didn’t help that your questionable alliance with Gojo Satoru only furthered your lack of proper social etiquette.

“It was a little unsettling standing there like this,” you gesture quickly at your mostly naked body, before slipping your arms back over your breasts. You weren’t covering anything up with your arms, you were aware, but keeping them folded in front of you somehow gave you a false sense of security. At this point you would take all the crumbs your greedy little hands could grab on to.

There’s a ghost of a smile that flickers across his lips. It fades quickly, barely a memory. He distracts you by gesturing back towards the hotel entrance. “Then let’s make a quick entrance. I got us a room.”

Your legs move before your brain can click the words together. It isn’t until he urges you into the elevator and the doors shut that you realize what he had said. He didn't misspoke. You heard correctly. A room. Singular.

“Did you get double beds?” You ask him, absolutely sure that he had. Nanami Kento wasn’t Gojo Satoru. He had no reason to play little games; however, he doesn’t answer you. His attention is on the glowing dots above the elevator doors and you watch them in silence along with him; one lighting up after the other.

It is quiet in the elevator and you detest it. Silence was never your friend. Your thoughts were always too loud, too quick to speak up one after the other, barely finishing their sentences before they were onto their next tangent. It was always like this with Nanami. The silences between you filled you with anxiety. You wondered how quickly you would annoy him this time, how badly would you fuck up that he’d never want to work with you again?

You were afraid to be without a partner. That’s what you told yourself, at least. The idea of Nanami, of all people, turning their back on you filled you with dread but why wasn’t it enough to stop you from breaking every rule? Why didn’t it stop you from ignoring him during missions when he would ask you to stand back, to think before you act, to allow him to help you?

Why couldn’t you just get it fucking together for once?

A ding snaps you from your reverie and the elevator doors open. You take a deep breath, and Nanami moves before you, stepping into the corridor. He stops, turning his face slightly. Your breath hitches in your chest, and you curse at yourself. What was that about? Maybe you were due for a health examination.

His shoulders tense; hesitation holding him down. He thinks perhaps he shouldn’t have been so impulsive. He should have pushed a little more at the counter, demanded a room with two beds but they had offered a free upgrade for his troubles at the sight of the black card being held in his fingers.

Nanami hated doing overtime, and he loved saving money. How was he supposed to turn it down?

He swallows the apology he wanted to give, and resumes his walk, assuming you will follow him. He stills for a fraction of a second and continues walking once he feels your presence slowly coming up behind him. It wasn’t like you to stick close when he wanted you to. You were unpredictable, and untameable. God knows he had tried, multiple times. You fought him tooth and nail over everything, and skittered around conversations that didn’t involve you asking him to buy you some instant ramen, or a cup of coffee. On occasion, on particularly hard missions when the mini bar of the hotel was very tempting, you’d reveal little jagged pieces of yourself with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. He held on to those, tucking them in the inside pocket of his blazer.

Still, the only time you ever cooperated with him was to agree with him that Gojo Satoru was the bane of both of your existences.

That’s why it had surprised him how compliant you had become in the car, of course, before it all blew up in your faces.

He tries to push you out of his thoughts as he opens the door to the room. Your body heat makes it intolerable to be near so he quickly side steps away from you once inside. You are too busy taking in the suite, the expansive floor to ceiling windows, to notice the way his hands fall on his hips, the way his mouth gapes for air once your back is turned.

Perhaps he over estimated himself. He was a gentleman, he tells himself. He could survive the night without touching you, he tries to convince himself as his eyes wander down the length of your legs, eyes resting on the muscular meatiness of your calves.

Thoughts of how your skin would taste on his tongue prickle the back of his mind, and he counters them by pointing at the bathrobes hanging by the bathroom door. “You should shower first,” he tells you, breathing harshly through his nose. He battles the images of you writhing under his touch.

You don’t respond quick enough for his liking, so he walks hurriedly towards the bathrobes. He grabs one, almost bringing down the hook rack from the door. When he turns to fling it at you, in a hope of keeping you away from him and his pent up lust, he sees you standing there in nothing but a blazer, and your panties, pressed up against the glass like a kid at a candy shop.

Your hands are flush against the glass, eyes bright as they take in the ocean across the street. You turn your face and smile at him, cheeks pink like the sky being kissed by the sinking sun.

“The sunset is beautiful, Nanamin,” you say, voice dyed with awe. He swallows a hard lump, and clenches his hands into fists. “You should come look.”

He nods, and stays rooted to where he is, feet refusing to follow his commands. “I can see it from here,” he breathes out, voice low and grating. The sunset is indeed beautiful, he notices, when he tears his eyes away from you long enough to take it in. He blinks, trying to capture the image of you against the glass, the ocean and the pastel sky in his mind.

This would haunt him, he knew. He should try harder to forget. He should try harder to resist the urge to press you against the glass wall, just so that he can see you painted under his hands in front of the watercolor sky

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he steps towards you, hand outstretched. Heart beating against his ears, he makes his move. “I was being rude. Let me have a look.” You feel a warmth slip under your blazer as his hand presses against the small of your back. As you turn to meet him, surprised by his sudden appearance he grasps your wrists in his, forcing you against the glass.

“Nanami,” you squeak in surprise, wiggling your fingers as he holds your wrists over your head. The cool glass against your skin sends shivers down your spine. At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Kento,” he reminds you with narrowed eyes, looking down at his nose. “Don’t move, please. I’m trying to watch the view you were talking about.” One of his thighs slips between your legs, and you find yourself holding your breath. You’re not sure of the reason except that it feels urgent; as if you’d fall if you didn’t. He leans into you, pressing his chest against you. The difference in heights places your face against his clavicle. You tilt your head up into his neck instead, trying to get away from the scent of sweat and cologne clinging to his skin.

It doesn’t work. It was a terrible attempt. He floods your senses, aching hot, pulsing through your body. He doesn’t seem to care, in your opinion, as he peers out the window with his chin on the top of your head.

“You should really take a shower,” his voice is gravely, almost a growl. It freezes you, and thaws you immediately; a terrible contradiction–one that could prove fatal if you didn’t get away fast enough. With your hands over your head, his fingers gripping your wrists tightly, you become irritated at his request. How did he expect you to do anything in this situation, especially with his thigh pressing against the heat between your legs? His mouth brushes against your fingers, and you barely contain their twitching. He nips at your knuckles, drops a kiss on the back of one hand.

“I-I–I would love to take a shower,” you say at last, ashamed of your stuttering. “But it seems like your mouth says one thing, and your body has another idea.”

That was bold of you. You are well aware. You’re wondering if this would be enough to shake him to his senses, to remind him of who he was; Nanami Kento the man just outside of your reach.

He is distraught. Your fingers captivate him, as he continues to brush his lips lightly against them. There is a carnal urge to plop each and every one into his mouth; to suck on them with leisure, not a care of the ticking clock on the wall.

Tick. Tock. He licks the inside of one wrist. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He presses his open mouth against it, and sucks loudly.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

You jolt out from under him, almost stumbling towards the bathroom. He follows you, picking up the discarded bathrobe he had dropped on the ground; the one he had meant to give you before he was wholly distracted by your brown skin set aglow by the sunset.

“Go on then,” he instructs, pointing his head in the direction of the bathroom. You walk backwards, feeling like a corralled prey. There is a sense of danger, a need to escape. Typically when it came to fight or flight your response was always fight; an innate need to put your life at risk. You had contemplated why that was before, and did not reach any conclusions you liked. Perhaps you didn’t find your life that valuable after all.

Yet somehow, today, it seemed imperative that you survived.

You did not wish to question it further. Your ass bumps into the door, and you bounce slightly. Nanami smirks at the sight, humming darkly as he tilts his head.

“Nice cushion,” he jokes as he approaches you. Your heart is hammering away, rattling the bars of your ribs. There is a whooshing sound, deafening, in your ears. He is close enough again that you smell the sweat and dirt off of him. His hand reaches out and you feel yourself falling backwards at the creak of the door.

His reflexes never disappoint. He is quick to grab you by the waist, moving you backwards. Your legs feel heavy, and useless. All you seem capable of doing is watching him. His gaze never leaves your face. You feel it floating over your lips, the bit of exposed cleavage through the blazer. Underneath the fabric, your nipples harden, shaming you some more.

“Is this necessary?” You hiss, face feeling hot. In your embarrassment you found the last dregs of your pride. You cling on to them with sharpened nails. “I can shower by myself, thank you very much.”

“Can you?” he asks with another tilt of his head. He hasn’t removed his arm where it was wrapped around your waist. Once again, you are trapped between him and glass–this time the glass of the shower. He keeps you there, as irritation grows. His thigh was too good at finding its home between your legs. He presses it up against your crotch eliciting a gasp. You’re too afraid to move even as he pulls on the door handle of the clear shower door with one hand.

His other hand undoes the singular button keeping your blazer from exposing your breasts.

You curse his nimble fingers, and the way your breasts react to the cool air of the room. If your nipples weren't hard before, they surely were now. He looks down at them, his eyes darkening. You slap his hand away, thinking that if you shove your nose in the air high enough it’ll bring back some of your dignity.

It does not, and he laughs at you, slipping the blazer off your shoulders.

“Why are you upset?” he asks you, leaning down to drop a kiss on each shoulder. You shiver and turn around, not wanting to look at him as you hook your thumb under the elastic of your underwear.

“I’m not upset,” you deny. You feel your nostrils flare, a tell tale sign. You’re thankful you’re not facing him but there’s a light reflection on one of the glass panels of the shower. You see him smirk as you bend over slightly to lower your panties over your knees. You stand up right, shimmy until they’re at your ankles. Your leg swings out and you kick them somewhere far, not really caring where.

He laughs again as you get in the shower, fumbling with the knobs. You hear him ask if that means then that you’re embarrassed. The water comes pouring down, quieting his laughter. You stand directly under the shower with your eyes closed, ignoring his question.

He is doing his best, goddammit. He is a gentleman, but he was also a sinner.

He removes his clothes quickly, before he does something stupid like jump in fully clothed. The packed travel bag had been left in the flaming vehicle. He couldn’t really afford to have wet clothes at the moment.

When he joins you in the shower, you are completely soaked. Your curls are now wet wavy tendrils stuck to your neck and your back. He takes in a sharp breath, feeling his cock react at the sight of you; the way drops of water cling to your thighs. He takes residency at the back of the shower, and watches you as you glance at him sideways. Water clings to your lashes, it pours over your breasts, arching over erect nipples.

If he moved from his spot, you would never make it out of this shower without him attached.

You try to ignore him. You had made the mistake of glancing his way while searching for the little bar of hotel soap. The sight of his erection, pink tip calling out to you was enough to make you aroused. You curse at your libido, thinking it its own form of curse. As far as curses went, this one was useless. It would not help you in battle.

You choose to focus your emotions instead, and choose anger. You are angry at the cheap hotel shampoo, and you shake the tiny bottle in Nanami’s direction. “This…crap,” you say, standing under the shower, water pelting your skin. “Does nothing but dry out my curls.” You watch him even as water pours down your face, his figure fluid and moving.

He humors you, anything to keep from reaching out. “I’m sorry,” he says on behalf of the hotel franchise–if that would please you, he’d repeat it again. “They really should consider some research.” He watches you flip open the lid. An urge flutters in his chest. His hands move before he can chastise them. He takes the bottle from you, and pours some on the crook of his palm. “Allow me.”

You’re too taken aback to put up a fight. He is standing in front of you, naked, with water splattering against his chest. He pulls you gently with one hand away from the shower. You watch him, feeling your cheeks catch fire. His fingers are in your hair, rubbing your scalp. He uses enough pressure to massage and lather. Your eyes close before you can think to fight it. It feels so good, you don’t want him to stop. Your hands find his chest, and you rest them there, feeling his muscles move slightly under your palms.

“Is that good?” he asks you. There is amusement weaved in his words. He watches your face, calm and serene, as he continues to massage your scalp. He liked your fiery mouth that never knew how to shut up even at the cost of his peace; but he liked this side of you as well.

Just as gently as before, he moves you both under the water. His hands move softly through your hair, rinsing the shampoo off. You open your eyes, a little peek–you tell yourself, and it was your mistake. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him; cheeks tinted pink, his hair plastered on his forehead, water running down the tip of his nose, pouring off his bottom lip.

“Kento,” you breathe out, hands still on his chest. He frowns as he runs his fingers through your hair, gently untangling as best as he can.

“Don’t say my name like that,” his words sound almost like a whine. Your heart beats even faster as you contemplate that. Why was there a distant sadness behind his eyes? Before you can investigate further, he pulls his gaze away from you, and buries his face on your neck. Instinct wins, and you tilt your head back, giving him more access. His tongue is hot in contrast with the almost cold temperature of the shower.

Your hands slide from his chest, over his shoulders, where you wrap them around his neck keeping him close to you.

“Why not?” You ask him, fingers tangling in his wet hair. “I thought you wanted me to call you Kento.”

He nips at your neck, mumbling something you don’t catch. His lips move to your ear. “You should finish with your hair first. Don’t you need to untangle it?’

You hum wondering when Nanami Kento became verse in anything to do with your curly hair. Your eyes wander around the shower, trying to find what you need but Nanami keeps cutting into your view, his mouth now hungrily leaving kisses on your jawline.

“I saw a comb,” he mumbles against the corner of your mouth. You turn your face to catch his lips but he avoids you, brushing his nose against yours instead. “By the sink.”

You figured you might as well wash your body in that case, and turn away from him, feeling embarrassed at the idea. You quickly lather your body, feeling Nanami’s eyes on you. Unable to take it anymore, you shove the bar of soap at him.

“Don’t just stare at me,” you say, sounding like a petulant child even to your own ears. He only smiles, and it is evident to you that he is holding back from laughing; again.

As he lathers, you try your best to pretend to be completely busy with conditioning your hair. Your fingers work at your wet curls, massaging, and ensuring your ends are coated enough. Meanwhile, your eyes take the absolute work of art in front of you. You are enraptured by the way bubbles form over his tan skin, how lather slinks lazily down the edges of his abs, and down his meaty thighs.

You swallow harshly, at the sight of his hardened cock, partially concealed by his dark blond fuzz and foamy white bubbles. A sigh escapes your mouth. You turn quickly to rinse off some of the excess conditioner before you can see the smirk form on Nanami’s mouth.

You don’t announce your departure and simply exit the shower before he can stop you. You feel like a newborn fawn, stumbling towards the sink.

“It’s right there,” he says, stepping out from the shower after shutting off the water. He slips into a bathrobe, and walks towards you. You grasp the comb as he places the robe over your wet body. You slip your arms through the sleeves. Words form in your throat but you forget them, when he gently takes one of your hands in his, and leads you out of the bathroom.

“Kento,” you say his name again, a breathy prayer. Why was he doing this to you? Your heart had just started to slow down, and it continued its desperate race again; anything to get away from its natural enemy.

“Hmm?” he hums, as he pushes you down to sit on the edge of the bed. His fingers pluck the comb from your hand. “Please let me.”

He had dreamed of you, too often. He had learned to become ashamed of it. The dreams were sometimes so vastly different from each other he couldn’t understand his own feelings. At first he was convinced it was nothing but lust. He was depriving himself of release. Having reached that conclusion, he had tried beating it out of himself, moaning in bed as he tried not to think of you, his hand furiously pumping his pulsing cock.

But he always thought of you when he did, and it never worked at keeping you away.

He had dreamed of your voice moaning his name. He dreamed of kissing your skin, every inch until he had memorized the way you tasted. He had dreamed of holding you against him in bed, burying his face in your hair until the smell of your shampoo lulled him to sleep.

Maybe it was lust. Maybe it was something a little bit different.

You don’t stop him. You never do. He glides the comb through your hair delicately. You can tell he’s trying his best not to hurt you. You bite back a smile.

“You need to be a little more forceful if you’re going to do that, Kento,” you tell him, turning your head slightly. His face is just out of sight, but you think you see his brows knit together. He grasps your hair, and starts combing the ends when you prompt him. You praise him when he manages to untangle half your hair, and hold back the urge to slap him when he gets the comb stuck in a knot.

“Sorry sorry,” he mumbles at the top of your head, and drops a kiss that stills you. You feel it travel down your spine, electrifying your toes and fingers. He finishes quickly after, and palms the hair that has fallen out. “You shed…” he says and you fix him with an impatient look. He smiles. “It’s the size of a fat hamster. You want to keep it?”

You take it silently from his hand and throw it at the bin, missing it entirely.

“Let’s not worry about that right now,” you tell him, turning to face him. You run your fingers through your hair, fluffing up your curls. Eagerly, he joins you, hands brushing against yours. You laugh at his fascination. “What is with you and my hair?”

There is a sheepish smile on his face; one that looks out of place. It takes your breath away.

“I just..” he stops to pull his hands away from your hair, but they find your face instead. His eyes are on your mouth, and you feel as if he is sucking the breath out of your lungs through them. “You never tell me about yourself. I want to know.”

You feel guilty. He was right, of course. You had done that on purpose. It was your modus operandi; your act of self preservation.

“Why?” you ask him, and wish you hadn’t. You didn’t want to know. You shouldn’t know. You want to take it back.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly, a whispered confession only meant for you. “I don’t know but I want to find out. Won’t you let me?”

It is too late to take it back. His truth is something you can’t erase. The words burn your skin. Smoke clouds your senses; the aftermath of your scorched soul. You feel like death; like falling.

His mouth is on yours, pulling you to his reality. In your mind you know you should put up a fight, claw at his face and run away. In your mind you know this will only end in tragedy; an avoidable disaster. You know this, and more, but you open your mouth to let him in. You moan against him when he sucks on your tongue and pushes the robe off your shoulders.

His kisses are blistering against your skin, his hands travel over your body unannounced with no apparent plan. He pushes you back on the bed, and straddles you. He stops only to take off his robe before he pounces on you again, desperate to taste all of your mouth. His tongue is invasive, and demanding, kisses growing more sloppy the longer he savors you. You feel his hardened cock against your soft belly, precum smearing against your skin.

You can’t wait any longer. Your fingers reach between your bodies to wrap around the base of his cock. Slowly, you stroke up and down, brushing your thumb against the slit. He moans against your neck, as he moves his hips against you, desperately wanting you to continue. He kisses you like he had dreamed about, every inch of your neck, down the middle of your breasts. He kisses your hips, the top of your knees. He presses his lips against the inside of one thigh, takes a deep breath of your skin; the mundane scent of hotel soap quickly becomes intoxicating.

Your back arches as he moves upwards, opening his mouth to take as much as your wet cunt he could into his mouth. His tongue laps at your folds, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slight salty taste. He uses his hands to part your lips, and he drags his tongue against the slot of your pussy, before slipping his tongue inside you.

You shout his name, fingers clutching strands of dirty blond hair. He barely hears you. His blood pumps loudly in his ears, he feels like a man possessed, devouring your cunt as if this would be the one thing to grant him salvation. He teases your swollen bud with his tongue, flicking and sucking in turns.

When he hears you cry out his name again, he slips a finger inside you, then two.

“There you go again,” he pants against your thigh before he bites down. You cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. “You keep saying my name like that and expect me to act with reason.”

He was a reasonable man. A goddamn gentleman, but if you kept saying his name as if you were offering yourself up as sacrifice what was a man supposed to do except accept?

Fuck reason, he thinks viciously, as he pulls himself up from between your legs. He kneels on the bed, and pulls you by the hips to him. With one hand, he adjusts the tip of his throbbing cock against your wet opening. He grabs one of your legs stretched out in the air and holds it against him.

Your hands falter, they find his abdomen. Fingers dance across his muscles. You feel a plea trying to find its way out but no matter how you push it won’t go. You want to ask him to be gentle; maybe ask him to reconsider. You think, if Nanami Kento fucks you, you’ll never be the same again.

He doesn’t give you that privilege.

He slams his hips against yours, bottoming out inside you in one stroke. A groan that lifts your back off the bed is cut off as you run out of breath. You take in a loud gasp as you try to adjust around him, feeling your pussy clench around his thick length.

“Oh, Kento,” you pant, hands desperately pushing at his pelvis. “You’re in too deep.”

He grits his teeth as he looks down at you. His chest moves quickly as his breaths come in ragged. His jaw is tense, shoulders unmoving.

“I’m doing my fucking best here,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady and low. He doesn’t mean to come off mean, but you were being unreasonable. “Just relax.”

You think of cussing him out, and running for your life. Once again, he denies you that privilege. He leans over you, your leg still in his possession. You bend your knee, ankle now over his shoulder. You whine, and bite your bottom lip, try your best to glare at him.

“I’m not that bendy,” you spit through clenched teeth. He watches you for a second, and seems to choose to ignore you. You pull on his hair but he is on your breasts, sucking on your nipples with newfound greed. You moan, feeling yourself become even wetter. His hips are moving, very slowly; a new kind of torture.

“Kento, what are you–” You’re cut off by him hissing, bringing his annoyed face close to yours.

“What do you want?” he asks you, face riddled with frustration. “Tell me. And I'll give it to you.” The truth was you didn’t know what you wanted. He sees your lack of response as an unnecessary delay. He only had so much time with you, why were you taking it up with useless hesitations?

“You are a nuisance sometimes,” he says against your breast, taking his time to wrap his tongue against your nipples. You shiver, and whimper, fingers rolling over the muscles of his back. “You don’t have to fight me over everything.”

He was right. He was often right. You close your eyes and loosen your hold on him. Your body relaxes under his touch, his hands gripping your breasts as he nips at your sensitive parts.

“Just let go,” he asks you, pulling away to look down at you. His hair is a mess, his face is flushed as he adjusts your legs again, folding your knees against your chest. You moan, feeling him move deeper.

His hips begin to move again, picking up speed. He thrusts in you, as he falls over you, keeping his mouth next to one of your ears. Even through his pants, and low moans, you hear the squelching of your pussy every time he pushes inside you. You bite down on your lip, desperately trying to keep quiet. It wasn’t that you wanted to deprive him of anything; he kept asking you to say his name but you were selfish. You enjoyed the lewd sounds of your soaking wet pussy being pounded by his cock; loved to hear the sound of his balls slapping against your ass.

“You’re being mean,” he growls against your neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips; hard enough to bruise. “Why can’t you give me what I want?”

You whimper. “It’s not that,” you breathe out, a yelp flying past your teeth as he changes the angle of his hips slightly. Your thoughts are scattered as the tip of his cock begins hitting your cervix.

“Then what?” he hisses through his teeth. His eyes want to close at the pleasure but he doesn’t want to miss the way you squirm underneath him. He can’t believe how wet you are; how it feels like you keep sucking him back in. He picks up the pace even more, thrusts becoming sloppy and merciless.

You become unbound. He holds you tightly as you try to get away from him, your cries urging him on.

“See? It wasn’t so hard,” he says with a small smile. You barely see it through your tears, your moans become unintelligible noises. You lick your lips, feeling drool fall down the corner of your mouth. Kento licks up your chin, taking care of it for you. It was just as well, you felt like collapsing. Your muscles ached, and your pussy felt puffy and overstimulated. You could feel yourself so close. You try to tell him, try to urge him on but no words come out.

He slips his hands under your head, holds you up so he can watch your face; watch how it contorts every time he pushes inside you. He smiles softly before he presses his forehead against yours. “That’s my girl,” he says, chest full.

He chases his high the more you cry. The way your pussy milks him when you cum isn’t something he is used to. He loses the battle and spills inside you. He watches with mild awe the way his cum seeps out between his cock from your pussy, milky white against the soaked bed sheets. His hips roll gently against yours, still feeling high from ecstasy.

You kiss his cheeks as your fingers dance over his jawline. He chuckles, nipping at them. “You, and your little fingers,” he mumbles against them, taking an index finger into his mouth for a suck.

You hum as he does, chest burning. “I think I need a smoke.”

He releases your finger with a pop, and glares down at you. “This is a non-smoking room.”

“Oh, come on,” you say with a crooked grin, doing your best to roll a strand of his hair around one finger tip. “I’m sure you can think of some excuse if they ask.”

“Am I joke to you?”

#nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader

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mj-102009 · 5 months ago

Text

Million to One (Colby Brock x oc)

Summary: After rising through the youtube ranks of a paranormal investigator, Avery Denim meets Colby Brock and quickly gets what the hype was about.

Warnings: Cheesy, alcohol, ghostes?

Words: 5363

Masterlist

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I watched the video again with a shaky breath in and out.

Andee looked around the room, her eyes brave but her body betrayed her fear. “Is anyone here?”

I didn’t glance up from the spirit box in her hands, keeping lazer focus on the device.

By my side, Eve had the camera trained on my face, she reached out and tapped my arm. “You good?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I just…I feel off.”

On the floor across the rem pod, Callum raised an eyebrow. “Avery with an off feeling is never good.”

Andee asked one more question. “How did you die?”

My feeling expanded in my chest and forced its way out my throat into words. “Polio.”

Everyone sucked in a breath and no one moved an inch.

“She’s right.”

The crack of the spirit box had everyone jumping to their feet and yelling.

The clip ended with my “not surprised but very much dizzy” expression.

The video had been posted to tiktok over a week ago and had received over 57 million views and 5 million likes; shooting our 800,000 subscribers on youtube to nearly two million. Most of the comments circled around “Avery is so psychic” or “faaaake asf” (Although I’ve been too afraid to go through it too much).

“Well,” I announced to my phone, the instagram live was filled with more viewers than normal. “What do we think?”

Most of the comments were good, the bad drained out by enthusiastic greetings. I had the phone propped up on the water bottle as Eve and I struggled to make dinner.

“Where’s the ramen?” I asked, she leaned over and poured the noodles into the sauce.

“Avery, someone wants to know when the full video will be out.”

I hummed and thought. “Hopefully next week– unless I get busy.” She set out bowls and we sat at the table. “Wanna tell em’ where we’re going next?” I asked

“Not particularly,” She mused with a wry smirk. “I have to finalize shit before we can announce it.”

I sighed and shook my head at the live. “I tried.”

She chuckled and looked through the chat. “Is Avery okay?”

I spread my arms wide and did a mini twirl. “I’m vibin’”

“Yeah, guy, that video was filmed a few weeks ago,” Eve told them. “We’re at the very end of editing before we can put it out.”

“Hopefully,” I crossed my fingers. “Andee and Callum wanted to go out while we’re here– tonight I think.”

Eve bobbed her head. “Oh we’re definitely going out while we’re in Vegas.”

I put my hands up and danced in my seat. “Paaaarty!”

“GET IN LOSERS WE’RE GOING OUT!” I shouted out the window of my car, Eve whooped and waved in the passenger side.

Andee walked out in all her glory with Callum on her arm; she had on a knitted shirt over a black crop top with a mini skirt; he was wearing jeans and a black long sleeve shirt; Eve was in a yellow crop top and a white skirt; and I had on a black mini dress and navy heels. The three of us girls had on various amounts of makeup and different hair styles– I had my hair curled (courtesy of Eve’s skills) with lip gloss.

Eve whistled slowly and got out to open the door for them. “Got everything?”

She nodded and they buckled, I put in the GPS and left their airbnb. “Is Cal driving home?”

“Yup,” He nodded. “I’m going on water the whole time,” He ended that with a heavy sigh.

We laughed at him and Andee peppered his check with kisses (but still giggled). “Where are we going again?” She asked.

“It’s called Mandy’s,” Eve said over her shoulder. “It sounded pretty chill.”

I huff a breathy laugh. “Your lack of information is so very reassuring.”

“It’s not,” Callum chimed in over his phone.

“It’s not,” I agree.

We watched as Eve had her torso thrown drunkenly over the counter to talk to the bartender. Andee was shaking her head while I cackled and filmed her to show her later.

“Should we stop her?” I mused once I had my blackmail.

Callum shrugged. “We’ll watch her.”

I shot them finger guns and stood up to go to the bar– opposite to where my idiot friend was. “Hey!” I shouted to the bartender over the loud ass music, the woman came over and leaned towards me. “Can I have another one of these?” I showed her my empty whiteclaw, she nodded and reached under the counter for the fridge.

I turned to walk back to my table and my head knocked right into someone’s collarbone.

Now listen.

I’ve never tried to be tall– because I’m not (5’4 gang can we get a whoop). But the split second before I was ashamed, I was trembling under this tree of a man.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, jerking back. And in slow motion I felt my foot catch on the bar stool and I began to slip.

The man yelped as well and quickly caught my shoulders to keep me up. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry!”

I straightened myself and waved my hands quickly. “You’re fine, my fault– completely.”

When I looked up to see what walking muscle man I’d stumbled upon, I was rendered speechless. “Oh my gods– you’re Colby Brock.”

For a moment something akin to panic flickered across his face before he rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. A smile on his face that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Hi, yeah, nice to meet you.”

“My friend is such a huge fan,” I told him. “She’s definitely out of commission right now but she’ll cry when I tell her about this tomorrow.”

He laughed and studied me with a smile that had slowly turned genuine. I moved out of the way so he could lean on the counter beside me. “You look so familiar.”

For a moment I was flattered then I remembered the video and common sense reminded me: ‘Well no shit the paranormal investigators have seen the viral video about the paranormal.’

“Oh I do some investigating with my friends,” I vaguely point to our booth, cracking open my can. “If we weren’t in a fuckin’ bar I’d talk shop but I don’t want to ruin your ni-”

“No no no,” He waved his hands in dismissal. “You can’t leave until I can remember where I know you from.”

I burst into bubbles of laughter. “Okay, do you want a hint?”

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes at me. “Shit it’s so close– what’s your first name?”

“Avery,” I answered amused.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, smacking the counter lightly . “From Miracle Chasers– Sam was talking about you the other day.”

I blinked and grinned. “Seriously? That’s wicked.”

He was still pouting. “I should have gotten that sooner, I’ve been tagged in your video a billion times.”

“It still makes my head spin,” I take a long sip of my drink. “But you guys are crazy awesome, Eve takes so much inspo from your editing style,” I gushed. “But you did give her the idea of the Conjuring house.”

He fake winced and told me. “Sensitive subject, man. I think it’s intense but definitely worth it,” Then he added on. “Just don’t go more than once– then it gets not worth it.”

I laughed and shook my head. “I’ll send her with y’all on your next trip there.”

“I’m sure we could all do something,” He suggested. “We hear you’re a bit of a psychic.”

“Oh we could totally do something soon,” I agree. “I’m not so sure about my abilities,” I chuckle. “I have zero control over when they come.”

He huffed a laugh. “How about I go introduce you to Sam and we can exchange socials?”

“Sure,” I nod and glance at our booth where Andee and Callum were gawking at me, I shrug and give them a ‘wait there’ gesture.

He ordered a whiteclaw and we made a playful argument over the superior flavor until we were in front of a booth with a few people in it.

Sam looked up and saw Colby first. “What took so long, brother? I almost called you,” he laughed before looking at me.

“Well I ran into a new friend,” He introduced me to the table. “This is Celina, Kris, and Sam.”

I waved and smiled. “Hey, nice to meet you, I'm Avery.”

Sam had to do a triple take. “Well I know who you are,” He shook his head in shock. “Sit down,” He insisted. “This is so crazy I was literally just talking to Celina about your channel.”

I slid into the booth beside Kris and Colby sat beside me. “We were just passing through before heading to California.”

Celina laughed. “What a small world.”

“I was talking about maybe doing an investigation with her and maybe her team one of these days,” Colby told them. “Maybe two for both channels.”

I nodded. “We’d be down for sure.”

Kris sighed. “One of these days it’ll be Sam, Colby, Kris, and Celina on that youtube title,” She shook her fist ruefully.

We all chatted and joked around for a while before Callum came over to grab me. “Hey, we’ve gotta dip before Eve jumps the bartender’s bones,” He said to me, trying not to fanboy.

I laugh and rub my forehead. “Oh my gods of course she is.”

Colby stood up and let me get out. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too!” I smiled at him then the rest of the table. “Text me when you want to do something.”

Sam gave me the thumbs up and said goodbye.

I walked out with a shitfaced Eve on my shoulders. “Let's go out to the car before I give you the good news.”

Eve stayed quiet. “Repeat that again,” She said in an eerily hushed tone.

“I met Sam and Colby yesterday,” I said skeptically. “While you were drooling over the bartender.”

She looked off into the distance with a dead expression. “Did they see me?”

I shook my head. “Nah, I made sure of it.”

“I might cry,” She whispered as she started to cry.

Callum was wheezing. “They traded socials.”

The tears that were streaming down her stoic face were almost comical. “You met Colby fucking Brock and got his number?”

“And Sam,” I added under my breath.

She brought her hands to her face and whimpered. “Oh my god.”

Andee sheepishly rubbed her back. “We can still investigate?”

“It's no use,” She whined. “How am I gonna become Eve Brock if he saw hot stuff over here before me?”

I facepalmed and shook my head slowly. “Girl-”

“Do not fraternize with the enemy,” Callum said in a faux military voice. “Sam and Colby are one of the leading channels centering on paranormal activity; do not let the nice abs lead you astray.”

Andee saluted and I looked at Eve. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna take your crush.”

“Long time no see,” I said into the camera.

Eve shifted the camera to show the two of us. “Welcome to the Miracle Chasers with Avery and I. Today I'm overjoyed to welcome Sam and Colby!”

The two boys jumped out on either side of us and started yelling enthusiastic greetings. “WHAT’S UP GUYS.”

We burst into laughter and they hooked their arms around my neck. Eve put the camera on the tripod to get all of us in the shot.

“We have been trying for weeks to make this happen,” Colby said, shaking my shoulders.

I threw up my hands. “Every time we were in America y'all were in Europe.”

Eve was standing with her weight on one hip. “This is our first time meeting,” She looked at the camera. “They met Ave at first but we’ve only talked over the phone.”

“But we’ve made time and now we’re in one of the most haunted museums in America,” I exclaimed.

We cut the cameras and began to pull out equipment while chatting and discussing plans for the summer.

I sat on a bench with Colby as Eve spoke with the tour guide, with a deep breath I asked for my water.

“You good?” He asked, passing the bottle.

Clearing my throat, I nodded and said: “It's just so stuffy in here,” my eyes flicked over to Sam who was filming this. “I feel like there’s hundreds of people when it's just us– it's giving me a headache.”

“I have motrin in the car if you need it,” He told me as Eve walked over.

“We have like 10 minutes til they start the tour,” She said, tossing us our passes.

As we walked down the hall I looked at Colby’s shirt. “Is that our merch?”

“Yeah,” He affirmed, showing it off. “We bought it as soon as it came out.”

Eve beamed. “Avery designed this line.”

“Oh shit,” Sam said, checking out the print again. “Might have to pay you to do ours.”

I flush and wave away the compliments. “Thanks, but at the rate that you move around it will never reach you.”

“So this is a rem pod,” Eve explained to the camera before handing it off to Sam. “Anything within a two-ish foot radius will make it go off,” She tossed me and Colby a few cat balls to put around. “Cat balls– literally just cat toys Avery ordered off amazon,” She pulled out the ovilus. “This is our Ovilus, it takes words being spoken by spirits and spits it out for us,” She waved her hand at me. “And Avery but she’s just weird.”

I smack her on the back of the head. “Am not.”

Colby rested his elbow on my head. “Nah she’s right.”

“Shuddup,” I laugh, turning to help set up for the investigation.

And to hide the deep blush that had crawled up my cheeks.

Sam handed me an emf reader and we moved to the office to sit in a half circle.

“1…2,” Eve sets up the camera and settles back into her spot. “...3– Now we have migrated into the office where the earliest owner of this hotel passed away due to unknown reasons.”

Colby poked my shoulder. “Unless Avery can figure it out tonight.”

I huffed a laugh. “No promises, my ‘abilities’ tend to come and go as they please.”

“And there’s not really any sort of training for psychics, is there?” Sam asks.

“Nope,” I shake my head. “I mean, I meditate and push myself when we go to these places; but there’s not much else we can really do.”

Eve turned on the rem pod and we took turns asking questions all went without answer.

“Was someone with you when you died?” I asked, rapping my fingers on the cold floor. “Your wife-?”

The rem pod lit up and beeped for a few seconds.

All three of my friends stare at me to which I shrug.

“Did she kill you?” Eve asked.

The rem pod remained quiet.

“Anything?” Colby whispered to me.

I leaned back to whisper in his ear, and the smell of his cologne surrounded me. “I don’t think he wants to talk about what specifically happened.”

The rem pod beeped once and I groaned.

Eve kicked my foot and stood up. “Should we try the hallway?”

“Suuuure,” I said, hopping to my feet and scooping up the rem pod. “Oh stop it,” I mumbled to the angry beeping and I walked into the hallway and set down the rem pod. I stepped back with the intention of grabbing something in the other room but noticed that the beeping hadn’t stopped. “Uhhhh guys?” Colby poked his head out and I pointed. “That’s not you.”

“That’s not me,” I agreed. “Get the camera.”

The moment Eve walked over with the camera, it stopped. I pursed my lips and shooed her back into the room.

It started up again,

She walked over and it stopped.

“It's messing with us,” Sam muses, kneeling next to the device to reset it.

I drop a few cat balls on the ground before rubbing my hands together and cackling dramatically. “Let's really start this investigation.”

“Yes I’ll have a large fry and a medium sprite– Eve get that shit out of my face–” I giggle, pushing the camera away. “Then two flurries and a 4 count meal.”

Colby elbowed me and whispered. “And a coke.”

I repeated this and confirmed the order. “McDonalds at 3am is not it for me,” I complained.

“Sam is asleep,” Eve whispered. “Be quiet.”

“I will honk this fucking horn,” I threaten jokingly. “Send me that video, I’mma post it on tiktok.” She hums and clicks away at her phone.

Colby yawns and puts his hand in my face, I giggle and push it away. “We’re staying at your place right?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah Eve lives with a friend of ours and I’ve got a house,” She kicks the back of my seat and I snicker.

We pulled into the driveway of my house and Eve stretched. “Alright, that's my car,” She nodded to the jeep by the end of my driveway, before hopping out of my truck and getting her stuff from the back.

“Goodnight,” I told her, giving her a hug. “Tell Andee I’m still pissed she took my blanket home.”

She rolled her eyes and waved to Colby and also Sam but he was still barely awake.

“I have the last two rooms down the hall set up with new sheets,” I whisper quietly to Colby as I get my backpack and Sam’s bag.

“Okay,” He says walking up the porch steps. I softly call out his name and toss him the keys as I walk over to Sam and poke him until he wakes up.

He groans and mumbles: “Are we at the hotel?”

I chuckle. “No we’re at my house, c’mon a bed has to be more comfortable than the seat.”

“I dunno, these seats are nice,” He stands up and follows me to the house.

“There should be enough blankets,” I tell them. “The hall closet has a fuck ton if you get cold.”

Sam thanks me quietly before closing the door and seemingly going straight to sleep. Colby thanked me and took a blanket from the closet. “Are you sure you don’t want your bed?” He asks for the third time.

I shake my head. “Nah man, I usually fall asleep on the couch after investigations anyway.”

“But I feel bad,” He half whines.

“I’ll wake you up if I can’t sleep,” I tell him. “Good night.”

He sighed in amusement and waves slightly. “Goodnight Avery.”

I went to bed that night thinking about how I was going to break the news to Eve that I had a wee itty bitty crush on the guy she’s been dreaming of for months.

That morning I popped a tray of cinnamon rolls in the oven and began moving our camera footage to my laptop.

“G’morning,” An extremely tired voice grumbled.

“Morning,” I chirped to Colby, tapping away with my coffee in hand.

He walked into the kitchen. “Coffee?”

I nodded and pointed to the coffee maker. “There's creamer in the fridge.”

“Mmm,” He sighed, taking a deep sip of his coffee. “Whatcha doing?”

“Sending footage to Eve,” I tell him, using the back of my hand to push up my glasses. “Where are y’all going today?”

He shrugged and sat beside me. “I don’t think either of us want to do much today.”

My alexa starts going off with an alarm and I snatch up a kitchen towel to take out the hot pan. “Do you– shit!” I exclaim, dropping the pan on the countertop and shaking my hand frantically.

“Fuck did you burn yourself?” He asks, walking over to the freezer and walking back with an ice pack.

“Yeah, thanks,” I reply, looking at the angry red spot.

“Lemme see,” He says softly.

Without hesitation, I give him my hand to which he studies the quarter sized burn on my hand. We both go quiet as he cups my hand and squints at the mark. Once I had realized that he was holding the back of my hand oh-so gently, my breath stuttered and my ears burned with a flush.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Little bit,” I say softly. “Not as bad.”

He hums and lets go. “Do you need anything for it?”

“I don’t think so,” I chuckle. “I haven’t gotten burnt in awhile.”

Colby looks at the cinnamon rolls and shoos me back to my seat much to my protests. I watch– still reeling– as he opens a few drawers until he finds the silverware and grabs the knife for the glaze.

“No no,” I bat his hand away from it and drop it in the microwave. “15 seconds.”

“Why?” He asks, baffled.

“My mama always did it this way,” I explained. “I guess it just works better.”

He squints at me. “Are you from the south?”

I flush and laugh. “How did you know?”

“You said ‘mama’ with an accent,” He teases.

I amp up my accent and drawl. “Hey, pretty thang.”

“Pfft-”

“Don’t laugh,” I say through laughter.

“You’re laughing too!” He argues playfully, also laughing.

I trail off into a giggle. “You’re cute,” I commented offhandedly, turning to the microwave and taking out the glaze.

From behind me, he looks away after a few seconds and clears his throat. “What time is it?” He asks, tapping my phone. “I’m gonna wake up Sam.”

“Okie dokie.”

“What are you doing awake?” I ask Colby at 10pm, feeling like a parent who just caught their child sneaking out of bed.

He shrugs and plops down beside me. “Can’t sleep.”

“Imagine how I feel,” I laugh under my breath.

“Yeah,” He rubs his face. “We’re investigating a haunted hotel tomorrow and I can’t stop thinking about one of us getting hurt one of these days.”

I hum and nudge his arm with a warm smile. “I get it, I really do, after tonight I did have a serious thought of quitting,” I admit. “But then I thought of all the places I haven’t been to and all of the people who watch me for thrills like that. And it might not be the same for you as it is for me– but that’s what’s been keeping me on this course.”

He stares at me in what I thought was deep thought but instead- “God, you’re amazing.”

I flush furiously and stammer. “What?”

“I mean-”

“Thank you,” I amended quickly. “You’re amazing too.”

“Thank you,” He says quietly.

We sat in silence until I turned to him. “You don’t have a girlfriend right?”

He chokes on air and turns to me. “What?”

I immediately regret asking and backing up quickly. “Uhhhh-”

A gentle hand slides around my cheek and holds my head softly, I stiffen in surprise as I’m turned to look Colby in the eyes. “I don’t,” He answers me in a frail whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” I whisper back.

The first kiss was feather light on my lips, just a soft brush that had me exhaling slowly and melting into his hand. I moved one of my hands to the one that was cupping my cheek, the other quickly found its place resting on his neck as I leaned forward for another one. The second one was more sure, confident, it brought butterflies into my stomach and shivers up my spine. He sighs happily and uses his other hand to angle my head to where he wanted it to be. I smiled into the kiss and softly twisted my fingers into the curl of his hair on the nape of his neck.

“Wow,” He comments softly as we break apart.

“Yeah,” I echo his surprise. “You’re so pretty,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He chuckles and rubs my face slowly with his thumb. “You ready for bed?”

I hum and slide off the couch to the pullout loveseat beside it. “C’mere,” I demand softly.

“Okay,” He agrees with zero hesitation.

And we fell asleep like that, not caring that Sam had an alarm set long before either of us were going to wake up. That is until he started sending the photos into the group chat with Eve.

I nibbled on the thumb anxiously and waited. “Hello?” A sleepy voice grumbled into the phone.

“Andee,” I sighed. “I kissed Colby.”

“Pfffft- you what?” She exclaimed, suddenly wide awake.

I groaned and dropped my head into the hand that didn’t have my phone. “Dude, what am I gonna tell Eve?”

“Don’t?” She responded helplessly.

“Can’t, Sam send a photo into our group chat,” I tell her. “She hasn’t said anything.”

Andee was momentarily speechless. “Are you two dating now?”

I sighed. “I don’t know, he just left with Sam for an investigation.”

“If you want to date him I say go for it,” She tells me. “Just because Eve likes him– its a celebrity crush by the way, she’ll live– but if she does care then fuck her.”

“Andee!”

“I’m serious,” She insists. “Dude, I love you both but if Eve is so caught up in her feelings that she can’t be happy for you then just don’t give a shit.”

I listen quietly and stare at my counter. “I really like him,” I say softly.

“Then date him.”

“Hey how was it?” I ask, stirring a pot of soup.

Sam enters the house and promptly runs to the bathroom making me look at the door for Colby. He strolls in and sets down a duffel bag of equipment on the table.

“It was good,” He shrugs. “Honestly a little bit boring but better than nothing.”

I shrug. “Could have been worse.”

“Mhm,” He walks over to me and peeks over my shoulder. “Broccoli cheddar?”

My cheeks burn as he rests his head on my shoulder. “Yup.”

“Yum,” He said lowly, still staying in the same spot.

We stand silently until I ask a question. “What is this?”

“What’s what?” He looks around looking for the product of my inquiry.

I turn to him and gesture between us. “This.”

“What do you want it to be?” He asks.

“I-I don’t do flings,” I say carefully.

“Neither do it.”

“I like you a lot.”

“So do I.”

We both stay silent.

“I want to be your boyfriend,” He says simply, playing with my fingers at our side. “I know I have a lot of wild fans, and that we’ve both got a lot of shit going on all the time. But I really like you and I think this could work.”

I watch his eyes shift over my face as they search for a reaction. I smile. “Okay,” I whisper.

“Okay,” He agrees. “Can I-”

I curl my fingers into the front of his shirt and yank him towards my lips into a kiss.

“Hey, what are we doing for- Holy shit,” Sam deadpanned from the hallway, we broke apart and I peek over Colby’s shoulder. “In the kitchen, seriously?”

“It’s my house, I can kiss my boyfriend wherever I want,” I joke with a silly voice.

Sam sits at the counter and plugs his camera into his laptop. “Finally, you two have been flirting in the group chat for months.”

“Hardy har,” I laugh. “Dinner’s ready.”

Colby and Sam walk to the stove to make bowls while I grab my phone from off its charger.

Evie Jelly Beanie: hey I saw the picture and Andee told me you were worried about me being upset and I just wanted you to know that no matter what you and him decide I’m totally chill with it I’m your sister not your mom I don't care who you date

Me: omg lol tysm we legit js made it official

Evie Jelly Beanie: yw ave be happy with ur bf

That night I tell Colby about Eve’s little crush on him. “But this was all before we had more than like 10,000 subscribers,” I assure. “She doesn’t care anymore.”

He chuckles and kisses the back of my hand. “That’s good, the next investigation we do together would have been real awkward if she did.”

I laughed and curled into his side. “Shit, Colby, to think this all happened because we were both in the same place at the same time. What are the odds?”

hey its me your friendly neighborhood fanfiction writer i dont be a ton of sam and colby fics so i dont do a taglist but I fs take requests plus check out my masterlist for more tell me what you thought!

#oc #fanfiction #oc fanfiction #writers on tumblr #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x oc #ghosts #paranormal #haunting #haunted #sam and colby

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stardusthuntress · 2 years ago

Text

Triggered

TBB x female!reader (pronouns only)

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Tech accidentally triggers your body dysmorphia. The Bad Batch team up to prove to you that they all love you dearly. Angsty comfort fic.

TW: This actively talks about body dysmorphia. Tried not to be too specific so it would be more generic and just comforting, but it does start with a kinda mean comment from Tech, he means well tho. No smut or nothing, but since it is potentially triggering for those with body dysmorphia, I am gonna label this as 18+.

A/N: Just felt like this needed to be written. Based on my own personal struggles, but also inspired by a conversation with someone on here who might also struggle with this. Hope this helps at least one person out there.

hyperspace dividers my own, tbb dividers by @/djarrex

Sitting in the cockpit, working on a project, Tech continues what is, to him, a normal conversation with the woman sitting next to him.

“I have noticed you are shaped differently than most women.”

He turns towards the copilot seat where she was sitting to find the seat spinning and vacant. He turns towards the door, only to see her exiting the ship.

Echo appears in the doorway, a flash of anger on his face. “What did you do? Why was she so unhappy?”

“I did not do anything,” Tech blinks at him in confusion.

Hunter appears next to Echo. “He told her she’s ‘shaped differently than other women’.” Of course he heard the whole thing from the other end of the ship, but Tech notices his tone implies that he, Tech, should not have said that.

“To us, ‘different’ is a positive character trait. Why did she leave the ship?” Tech asks, perplexed.

Echo sighs searching for words, but it’s Crosshair who answers, “to nat borns, being too different is bad,” is all he says.

Echo scratches the back of his neck and explains, “Most of them don’t like that ‘different’ is negative, but it takes a lot more work than you think to get rid of an idea that is so deeply ingrained in a culture.” He looks at Hunter and glances towards the open ship door.

Hunter returns the look and nods towards the door, “Go talk to her, we got him,” He gestures at Tech.

Tech blinks at them confused as Echo jogs out of the ship after her. Tech looks at Hunter then Wrecker, awaiting the usual explanation that followed his lack of emotional intellect. But they both seemed hesitant to start.

Over the comms they could hear Crosshair’s voice telling Echo where to find her. Cross was in his favorite quiet place, sitting atop the ship watching their comings and goings like a vulture.

Echo finds her hugging one knee and staring off into the distance atop a rock, overlooking the ocean.

“He didn’t mean—“

“—I know” she cuts him off. “But that doesn't mean I can always control how I react to it. I don’t want to feel this way, but my experience has taught my subconscious to react like this. I wish I could make it stop too, but that takes a lot of practice and a ridiculous amount of time. I’ll get there eventually,” she sighs.

He scoots next to her on the rock and just watches her. She glances at him, wishing he wouldn’t, starting to feel nervous about the way he’s looking at her, turning away to hide her face. That is, until he starts to talk again.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes look when you’re lost in thought?”

She huffs out a small laugh. “Even when they’re starting to get puffy and red?”

“Yes,” the confidence in his voice is unmistakable. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not that meant it,” she mumbles into her knee.

He pulls her into a tight hug, and they sit there in silence for a while.

Echo’s not sure what to say exactly, all he knows is that there’s a lot more that has to be said before either of them are willing to return to the ship.

Echo pauses briefly as he passes her sleeping form curled in a chair.

Tech watches as Echo’s expression softens, and he just looks at her for a moment. Tech tilts his head to one side, like a tooka trying to see if the world makes more sense from a different angle (Tech finds it amusing to take these things literally and figuratively). As he watches, Echo leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, and whispers something in her ear. She stirs slightly but doesn't wake. Echo stays put, brushing a hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear and petting her head until he’s sure she’s back out.

Tech feels a pang as he watches. Then his vitals monitor beeps at him. He looks down at his datapad, eyes scanning quickly, looking for the results from the algorithm he wrote to help him connect the way his body reacts to the emotions he struggles with. Sure enough, at the bottom of the screen, his “most likely emotion” algorithm flashes a single word at him: Jealousy.

When she’s settled back down, Echo continues walking to the cockpit doorway where Tech stands.

Echo, “I think we got lucky she was willing to come back onto the ship.”

“She’s not really back,” Crosshair’s voice snakes it ways into their minds, voicing the one thing they’re all worried about and prompting them all to look at her, curled into a tight ball, her head slipping onto her knees.

“She is sad,” Tech analyses. “I did not realize what I said would affect her this much, nor this negatively.”

“I think it brought up old stuff for her. She’s kinda like you, Tech. She needs evidence in order to believe something is true,” Echo notes.

“You are suggesting that I have to prove to her that being different is a good thing?” Tech asks. “I have ample evidence that she already knows that, but I do not understand why she did not take my statement in that way.”

Again, Echo sighs, “When I went after her, she told me… she’s spent most of her life just wanting to be as normal, as pretty, as the other girls, and all she ever got was a lifetime of evidence proving that she wasn’t.” Echo’s voice was quiet. He didn’t like saying it any more than they liked hearing it.

There’s silence as they all take this in. Crosshair had joined them, leaning in the doorway, still watching her sleeping form as they talked.

“But,” Tech is confused, he has a datapad full of evidence to the contrary, “we all react to her in ways that show how we feel about her. Do you mean to say she is incapable of seeing that?”

Echo chuckles darkly, gaze drifting to the floor as he scratches the back of his neck. He wouldn’t have put it quite so bluntly. He searches for a nicer way to explain it to Tech’s analytical mind.

“Yes,” Crosshair got tired of waiting for someone else to answer, “Nat born women are conditioned to doubt.”

Tech opens his mouth to protest, he wants to know what she is doubting, specifically.

But Echo starts talking first, “Nat borns don’t get a choice in the cultural conditioning that plagues them any more than we get a say in how the Kaminoans’ conditioned us. It’s up to us to prove to her that she just isn’t seeing the full picture.”

Tech blinks at the two of them, hoping someone will explain exactly how to do so and what exactly she is conditioned to think, but they don’t. To their surprise, Wrecker, who had been napping in the cockpit, is the one who answers.

“Don’t hide anythin’.” His voice is surprisingly quiet, his expression soft. They don’t often get a chance to see Wrecker this gentle.

They all look to Echo, he has more experience with women than any of them (except maybe Cross, but it’s not like he’s going to explain it to them unless he is forced to), not to mention more experience with the emotions of their brothers and the trauma of his own. Echo nods in agreement, “every glance, every time you want to brush her hair out of her face, or pull her into a hug just to feel her close to you. Don’t hold back. She needs to see it. But for now let’s let her sleep. Hopefully that will help a little.”

Tech finally gets a chance to talk to her the next morning. He had been hoping a fresh day would wash it all away, but it looks like today might be harder than he anticipated. She’s just laying in her bunk, curled into a tight ball on her side, hugging a pillow to her chest, staring off into the distance, a lost expression on her face. As he sits down on the bed by her feet she hides her face behind the pillow.

“I only meant……….” He sighs “To us, being different is good. I didn’t know nat borns don’t see it that way. I apologize.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes.

“I have never experienced sexual attraction to a being until I met you.”

She is still quiet.

He’s racking his brain for some way to comfort her. He’s no good at this part, usually emotional reactions were Wrecker’s department. So what would Wrecker do? His mind travels back to when they were cadets and he had yet to get his emotions under control. There were more than a few nights when he cried himself to sleep on Wrecker’s shoulder. Wrecker used to rub his back and tell him he’d never let the Kaminoan’s hurt Tech. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done, so telling her he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her wasn’t an option. He felt like he already had.

Touch! That was it! She usually responded well to the everyday touches from Wrecker, Hunter, and Echo. So he reaches out and gently places a hand on her knee. She’s wearing sleep shorts, and had tossed the covers off, so Tech’s hand sits directly on her skin. He didn’t usually go for touches like this, because he didn’t understand them, but this one felt like the right thing to do, so he went with it, starting to rub, slowly, up and down on her calf. She didn’t react, but she also didn’t push his hand away.

“Is this okay?” He asks, tentatively.

“Yeah,” she mumbles into the pillow.

He sighs and slumps a bit as he relaxes a little.

They sit there in silence for a few moments, just his hand running up and down her leg.

Tech sits up a little straighter, a look of eureka on his face.

“I can prove it,” he offers.

Finally, she begins to peek out from behind the pillow, and he knows this crease on her brow is curiosity.

“I can prove that I find you sexually attractive.” He clarifies. She just looks at him, curiosity piqued, though not like he’s used to seeing when she’s found something she’s excited to learn more about. Those are his favorite moments with her. When she’s excited to learn something new, and they can talk about the possibilities and implications that has on their day to day life, rapid fire. Learning more about the universe together. He vows to find a way to bring those moments back as soon as possible. They both need it.

He pulls his datapad out and brings up some data. “This data shows my vitals from the moment we met, overlaid on the footage I was recording so you can see the implications of visual stimulation on my vitals.” He sends it to her.

Her datapad lights up, it sits next to her head beneath the pillow that still hides him from view. Tech can see the light from under the pillow and watches as the pillow shifts a bit as she picks it up and looks at it.

After a while the pillow shifts again and the light goes away as she puts the datapad back down. She peers at him over the top of the pillow. She doesn’t have words to say anything. He takes that as a sign that he’s the only one who needs to keep talking right now.

“It took me a while to figure out what I was feeling. You know that I do feel emotions, but I struggle to understand them. But I compared it to the data I have of how my brother’s reacted to you and asked them about what they were feeling and how they could tell. I discovered that we have all become rather smitten with you, myself included.”

“That’s bound to happen considering I’m the only woman you’ve been around for months, and probably the only one you’ve been around for an extended period as grown men,” she mumbles.

“But that would take several months to begin to show an effect, yes?”

“Yeah…?”

“I can prove that our feelings began during our first mission with you. I can pinpoint the exact moment for most of us. I am always monitoring our vitals, so any spike in heart rate, or hormone levels I have recorded.”

He sends her his documentation, where he was attempting to understand what they were feeling. Complete with notes about ‘Echo explained that this is common during human attraction’ and ‘Hunter tells me this is a normal reaction to seeing a beautiful woman’ and even ‘Crosshair has indicated that I should talk to her about this’.

“You now have access to the file so whenever it is updated, you will be notified. I tend to update that one quite often. I hope this is a sufficient way to apologize. I am not sure how else to do so.”

“I’m sorry, Tech,” her voice is timid and quiet.

“Why are you apologizing?” Tech asks, nose scrunched, he does not understand.

“I’m sorry I walked out on you without saying anything.”

“I have come to the realization that when topics may be triggering, it is often easier to simply leave the room. I surmise that is why you left?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t want to force her to tell him more, so he just stayed quiet, hoping she might volunteer more information if she felt comfortable doing so.

“I never wanted to be this different,” is all she says.

“I like your ‘different’,” Tech volunteers.

“Is that you talking, or your brothers? What did they tell you to say to me? How much pity did they recommend you bring to the table?” Her tone of voice suggests she is getting mad again.

Tech’s eyes widen and he shakes his head rapidly. “No! Echo said to never pity someone. He said pity only hurts people. He made us all swear never to pity you for anything. I did not mean to imply that. I like your different, I mean that.”

“Sorry,” she whispers, sinking into the pillows again.

Again his mind reaches for something to help comfort her. He doesn’t like how she seems to be conditioned to apologize so often for things that are his mistake and not hers. Again, touch finds its way to the forefront of his mind. So he reaches out physically this time, for the hand resting on top of the pillow she still clutches.

His hand gently slides underneath her own, threading his fingers through hers. He’s struck with the urge to kiss her hand. He’s not sure why. He’s never felt this before. He tries to hold back.

Until Echo and Wrecker’s words surface amidst the confusion in his mind again, ‘don’t hold back’… ‘don’t hold back’… ‘don’t hold back’…

So he stops trying to hold back and lets go, and leaning forward, lifting her hand slightly, to press a soft kiss to the back of her hand. He doesn’t mean to let it linger, but he’s never felt this way before and he wants to remember it forever.

She looks at him with surprise. And then smiles a little. His heart skips a beat. Again, his vitals chart blinks at him, drawing his attention from her eyes. He laughs softly when he sees the new “most likely emotion” blinking at the bottom of the screen, so he shows it to her.

‘Adoration’, the blinking word reads. This time the smile doesn’t leave her face. It still hasn’t quite reached her eyes, but it’s starting to get there. As she stares in disbelief at the word on his screen, a new message from Echo pops up at the top of the screen.

Tech feels it buzz, but doesn’t take the datapad back, knowing now how important that one word is to her.

Her brow scrunches when her gaze drifts to the message from Echo.

She raises a finger to tap on it, but stops, realizing it’s not her datapad.

“You may open it, if you wish,” Tech offers. “I wish to show you I trust you.”

She smiles, the turbulence inside her beginning to settle again as she taps on the message from Echo.

As the message opens, she begins to shift. Moving the pillow around so she can sit up. As she settles, her hip presses into his own. He does not protest. He likes this touch. He moves to hold the datapad between them so they can both see it. It’s a photo of a beautiful waterfall sent to the group chat with the caption, “you guys would love this place”. He and Hunter were out scouting the camp site while they await their next set of orders.

From the increase in noise just outside the ship it seems that Wrecker is excited to go exploring.

“Would you like to go on a walk?” Tech asks.

She nods, squeezing his arm to her side briefly, whispering a quick “thank you” into his ear. He looks up at her happily as she stands up, letting his gaze linger on her as she bounces to find some civilian clothes to change into. She spots his look and pauses for a moment, confusion on her face.

“I like your happy, too,” he tells her. “You know we pride ourselves on being different. It was meant to be a compliment. I did not understand how sentient beings could be considered attractive until you joined us.”

She smiles at the floor, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I like your shy, as well,” he adds.

She giggles.

…‘Don’t hold back’… he’s learning what that means. And this time he wants to hug her. So he stands up and opens his arms to her, a question on his brow.

She beams and throws herself into his arms. He wasn’t quite prepared for her enthusiasm. It sends them both back a few steps, until his legs hit the bunk and his hand reaches for the one above to stabilize them.

Today might be okay after all.

When the two of them arrive outside they find the commotion was Wrecker putting together a picnic. Crosshair pretends he didn’t help. They all know he did, but they let him think they believe him. Donning the packs Wrecker holds out, the four of them hike their way out to the coordinates Hunter sent them.

After they’ve eaten, as they are enjoying the sunlight and time off, Crosshair stops her for a moment, tilting her chin up to look deep into her eyes. Where confusion paints hers, his show only confidence and lustful smirk. In a split second the moment is over, he places a kiss on her forehead and walks away like nothing happened. His brothers pretend they didn’t see. Moments later, her datapad lights up with an update from a document of Tech’s. It’s the document he sent her earlier, the one filled with all his evidence that they all adore her. The newest entry is a snippet of a video of her and Crosshair from just a moment ago. She glances at Tech and nods a shy ‘thank you’.

That evening, Tech exits the cockpit to find her laying with her head in Echo’s lap as he pets her hair and they both study their datapads. Again, Tech feels a pang of jealousy, and it is once again confirmed by the flashing word at the bottom of his screen.

He sits down by her feet, pretending to be enraptured by something on his datapad too. She looks over at him and smiles, he returns his signature half smile, with half lidded eyes.

Hesitantly, she stretches out a foot and places it in his lap, biting her lip as she looks at him to ask if this is okay.

Tech holds her gaze and places his hand on her leg, stroking it just like he did before in answer to her question, and letting the hand holding his datapad rest on her ankle. Tech has never been so intimately close to a woman’s ankle before. He’s seen her’s plenty of times, she likes wearing shorter things that let her ankles breathe from time to time, but he’s never had a chance to really memorize every curve of them before, no matter how archaic a fascination with ankles may seem, it’s new to him, and he enjoys it.

Echo glances over, to exchange ‘told you so’ looks with Tech, but Tech is still looking at her, fascinated by the studious look on her face as she goes back to reading something on her datapad, still biting her lip as her mind returns to her work.

Instead Echo exchanges one with Hunter, who has just entered the ship, brushing rain from his ruggishly handsome locks.

Hunter stands in the doorway for a moment, before stepping forward and placing a kiss to her shoulder, then heading to the fresher to find a towel for his hair.

In Echo’s lap, he can feel her cheeks warming as she tries to suppress a small smile. This is new to her too, but who would say no to 5 sweet, handsome men doting on them?

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

#zenith writes #tbb x reader #tbb tech x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #arc echo tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you

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