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kryptonitejelly · 1 year ago

Note

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

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requiemforthepoets · 6 months ago

Text

it’s you that i’ve been waiting for, all of my life ⟢ LN4

final part of the crazy rich asians au ⟢ part one part two

PAIRINGS: lando norris x asian!female!reader

SUMMARY: with a lot of your family and friends are either getting engaged or married, it made you think about a lot of things—well, mostly marriage.

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

WARNINGS: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, mentions of marriage, reader having a wedding fever, fluff, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 9.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: finallyyyy, this is the last part of my crazy rich asians au. the rest of the updates for this series is already smaus—which will be updated sporadically. to all that read, commented, and reblogged, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. tbh, i wasn’t even sure/confident with this three part series bc it was literally my first time writing this kind of fic, so thank you so much. as always, your reblogs/comments are highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this last part! also, happy new year, guys! 🥺❤️

You and Lando had just finished settling into your hotel, when your phone buzzed with an incoming facetime call from Nick. Surprised but not entirely shocked by his timing, you answered the call and held your phone up as you sat on the edge of the bed. Nick’s face appeared on the screen, expression tense and unusually serious.

“Hey, is Rachel with you right now?” he asked without preamble, tone laced with urgency.

You frowned, confused by the question. “No, she’s not,” you replied, glancing at Lando, who was sitting on the edge of the bef watching your conversation. “Lando and I already left Singapore earlier, we’re in Malaysia right now. Why? Is everything okay?”

Nick ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily before diving into the whole explanation. He told you and Lando about how your Auntie Eleanor had hired a private investigator to dig into Rachel’s background. Your stomach sank as he laid it all out—the dossier that your Auntie Eleanor had compiled, which included several Chinese news articles and missing person reports with Rachel’s mother’s photo. All these revelations had been shared with your Ah Ma at the wedding reception, and things had escalated from there.

You can slightly hear Nick’s voice trembling as he recounted how your Ah Ma had become mad and forbid Rachel from continuing her relationship with him, declaring that Rachel’s family background poses a threat to your family’s reputation. The words made your chest tighten, and you felt a mix of anger and sadness bubbling inside of you. Then it all started to make sense now—Rachel’s disoriented state, the way she fled from the reception without looking back.

“Wait,” you interjected, still processing everything. “Ah ma was at Colin and Minty’s wedding? I didn’t even see her, she rarely goes to events like that unless her presence is absolutely necessary.”

Nick nodded, confirming your thoughts. “She was there. It wasn’t planned for her to come, but I think Mom had managed to convince her.”

You sighed. “Well, that explained a lot. No wonder Rachel was running off like that, she must’ve been completely blindsided.”

He paused before continuing. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, but she’s not answering my calls or texts. I just—” he trailed off, his frustration evident.

Thinking quickly, you remembered something Rachel had mentioned in passing. “Maybe she’s staying at her best friend’s house? She told me once that she has a close friend in Singapore.”

Nick’s eyes lit up slightly. “That's a possibility. I’ll try to find out where her friend lives.”

“Do you need me to come back?” you asked, words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “Lan and I can fly back to Singapore tonight if you think it’ll help.” you glanced at Lando, who nodded in silent agreement.

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I think I can handle it for now. But if Rachel answers your texts or calls, can you let me know right away?”

“Of course,” you said firmly. “I’ll text her again and keep you updated.”

“Thanks,” Nick said with a small, grateful smile.

“But hey, listen,” you said carefully, “if you find Rachel—in which I know that you will, you have to give her some time. Don’t push her, and don’t force anything.”

Nick was quiet on the other end, so you took it as a queue to continue. “She’s been blindsided, completely blindsided by all of it. Think about it, the information that Auntie Eleanor dumped on her, how it was thrown at her, none of it was easy for her to process. She didn’t even see it coming, and honestly, no one would’ve been ready for something like that.”

“I know,” Nick murmured. “But I just want to fix it. I want her to know that none of this changes how I feel about her.”

“I know you do,” you said gently. “But right now, Rachel needs space to process everything. Imagine if you’re in her shoes—finding out things about your family’s past in such a public and humiliating way. That kind of betrayal isn’t easy to shake off, especially when it comes out of nowhere.”

You paused, choosing your words carefully. “You have to be patient with her, Nick. Let her come to you when she’s ready. If you try to force her to talk or rush through it, it might just push her further away.”

There was another silence, then a resigned sigh from Nick. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I hate it, but you’re right. I just feel so useless sitting here, doing nothing.”

“Nicky, you’re not doing nothing,” you assured him. “The best thing you can do right now is respect her boundaries and be ready when she’s ready. Let her know you’re there, but don’t overwhelm her, and Nick…” you trailed off.

You briefly hesitated before adding, “Rachel was thrown into a pit of wolves. Our family, for all its grandeur and well, admit it or not, can be really cruel. She wasn’t prepared for it, but that’s not on her—it’s completely on us, and if you love her, you’ll help her navigate through it when she finally comes around.”

Nick’s voice softened. “I do love her, more than anything.”

“This might sound very cliché, but trust the process,” you said. “She’ll come back to you when she’s ready, and when she does, you’ll be there for her.”

“Thanks again,” he said quietly. “I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” you replied. “Just keep me updated, okay? Don’t lose hope.”

“I won’t,” Nick promised.

“Alright, take care.” you said before ending the call.

As the screen went dark, you tossed your phone onto the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling in frustration. Your call to Rachel had gone straight to voicemail, and though you had sent her a message, you couldn’t shake the knot of worry in your chest. Flopping down beside your phone, you exhaled deeply. The fact that your Auntie Eleanor had gone so far as to hiring a private investigator made your blood boil. It was not just meddling—it felt invasive and cruel.

“Why?” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. “Why did she have to go that far?”

Lando glanced over you from where he was sitting, watching you silently for a moment before he laid down beside you on the bed.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just…Auntie Eleanor. Why would she do something like that? Nick and Rachel were happy, and Ah Ma already liked Rachel, so why did she have to ruin it all? What does it even accomplish?” your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, your emotions bubbling to the surface.

Lando listened patiently, letting you vent. When you paused, he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I get it,” he said gently. “It’s frustrating, and it’s not fair to Rachel. But you know Nick, he’s not going to give up on her just because of this. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

You looked at him, brows furrowed. “But what if they don’t? What if this just ruins everything?”

“It won’t,” he said firmly. “They’ve come this far, haven’t they? Something like this might take time to work through, but if they’re meant to be, they’ll find their way back to each other. You’ve got to believe in that.”

His words were calming, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right,” you said, though the knot in your chest didn’t fully loosen. “I just want them to have the happy ending they deserve.”

“And they will,” Lando assured you with a small smile. “But right now, you’ve got to focus on what you can control. We’re in Malaysia, come on, let’s enjoy our time. Relax, and take a breather from all the chaos back in Singapore.”

You gave Lando a weak smile, appreciating his efforts to make everything better. “Yeah, you’re right. We should make the most of it while we’re here.” pushing yourself off the bed, you glanced towards your suitcase. “We’ve got dinner plans later, don’t we?”

Lando grinned, standing up and holding out his hand to help you. “We do. Let’s go have a great night.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet, and smiled at him. “Alright.”

The first day in Malaysia began early, with the rising sun casting a soft golden glow as you and Lando set off for George Town in Penang. The drive was long, roughly about four hours from Kuala Lumpur, where you’re staying, but the journey was as much a part of the adventure as the destination. Lando was behind the wheel, where one of his hands was steady on the wheel, and his other free hand was laced on your fingers. His eyes occasionally darted towards you while you admired the scenery as you passed by.

“So,” he started, glancing at you with a teasing smile, “are you going to be my personal tour guide for the day?”

You grinned, looking at him. “Of course.”

When you arrived, George Town immediately swept you off of your feet. The streets were alive with so much color and culture, with the British colonial buildings standing gracefully alongside vibrant Chinese shophouses and intricate mosques. The air smelled of spices and street food, and the chatter of locals filled the space with a sense of warmth and energy.

“Look at that one,” he said, pulling you gently toward a painting of a little boy riding a bicycle. “We have to take a photo here.”

Lando pulled out his camera and posed next to the mural, with a wide grin on his face. “Your turn, come on,” he said after snapping his photo, motioning for you to take his place. “Hold on,” he gestured for you to pose in front of the mural. You rolled your eyes playfully but obliged to his request, striking a simple pose.

“Perfect,” he said as he snapped the photo before lowering the camera. “Though the real thing’s better than the photo,” he added cheekily, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Smooth,” you teased, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless.

You wandered through the streets hand in hand, occasionally stopping every so often to admire the architecture of the small shops selling everything ranging from antiques to handmade crafts. At one point, Lando pulled you into a quiet alley where a local artist was painting a new mural. He tilted his head, examining the work.

“Think I could pull something like this off?” he joked, referring to the mural’s intricate design.

“Absolutely not,” you replied, laughing. “But I’d pay good money to watch you try.”

The day would not have been complete without food. You introduced Lando to char kway teow, a flavorful stir-fried noodle dish. He took his first bite, his expression shifting from curiosity to delight.

“Okay, this is incredible,” he said, nodding enthusiastically as he went for another bite.

“You have a good taste,” you replied, stealing a noodle from his plate.

“You mean you have a good taste,” he corrected.

The day continued like that—strolling, laughing, stealing kisses, and taking photos. Every corner of George Town seemed to hold a story, and every moment felt like it was just for the two of you.

As the sun began to set, the sky turned a warm orange, and Lando snapped one final photo. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today,” he said softly, looking at you instead of the view.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Me neither.”

The second day began with the sun streaming through your window, casting a warm glow over the start of what you knew would be an unforgettable day. After breakfast, you and Lando set off for Paradise 101 in Langkawi, a private island that promised a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation, and just an hour away.

As soon as you stepped onto the island, the soft sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the salty breeze filled your senses. Lando reached out for your hand, giving it a light squeeze he looked out at the clear blue sky.

“Ready for some adventure?” he asked with a contagious smile.

“Always,” you replied, already feeling the excitement bubbling up.

The first activity on the list was parasailing, something you had always wanted to try. Strapped into the harness side by side, the instructor began counting down, and then, the boat picked up speed, lifting you and Lando off the ground, soaring above the waters. The world below looks so tiny, and the ocean stretches endlessly beneath your feet.

“This is insane!” Lando shouted over the wind.

You turned your head to look at him, his expression lit up with excitement. “Right? Look at that amazing view!” you replied, pointing towards the horizon where the ocean met the sky.

“Look something out of the painting,” then glancing at you, there was a mischievous glint in Lando’s eyes. “Though the view isn’t half as good as the one next to me.”

You laughed, swatting at him lightly. “You’re such a cheeky little shit.”

When your feet touched the sand again, Lando was already pulling you toward the ziplining station. The zipline took you across the island’s canopy, and each time you landed, Lando was there waiting, stealing quick kisses before moving to the next line.

“Race you to the bottom,” Lando challenged, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

“Oh, you’re on,” you replied, determined.

As the two of you zipped down, the wind whipping past, the sound of your laughter had filled the air. Lando had beaten you to the bottom, of course, but he immediately pulled you into a hug when you joined him, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The afternoon was reserved for a private yacht cruise, just the two of you. As the boat glided through the calm waters of Langkawi’s northern coast, you couldn’t help but marvel at the picturesque coastline, with the emerald-green water shimmering under the sun.

“Perfect, isn’t it?” Lando asked, leaning back beside you, his sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Perfect,” you agreed, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his.

“You know,” he began, “we should bring the others here sometimes. They’d love this.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you replied, looking at him. “Though I kind of like it being just us right now.”

“Me too,” he said, voice soft, brushing a kiss on your forehead.

You decided to give kayaking a try, but knowing Lando, it probably would be a chaotic one. “You’re paddling the wrong way, babe!” you exclaimed as Lando’s oar splashed water everywhere. “Are you sure you know how to paddle?”

“Of course I do!” he argued.

Lando was just kept on paddling in circles, the kayak even refused to cooperate—or so he claimed.

“Babe! You’re just steering us into circles. You’re doing it wrong!” you called out, grinning mischievously.

“I’m not—hold on, are you gaslighting me right now?” he accused, realizing your game.

“I would never!” you said, feigning innocence.

Lando almost toppled over the kayak trying to adjust, and you couldn’t contain your laughter. But eventually, you found your rhythm, paddling side by side through the tranquil waters.

“Okay, maybe this teamwork thing isn’t so bad after all,” he admitted, voice softer now.

“You think?” you teased, glancing at him with a smile.

The highlight of the day came with the private UNESCO Geopark mangrove cruise. You and Lando had been transferred to a small explorer boat, where you were taken through a landscape that felt almost otherworldly. Sheer limestone cliffs rose majestically from the water, their forms resembling ancient temples.

“This is incredible,” Lando murmured, voice tinged with awe as he leaned over the side of the boat.

You nodded, eyes fixed on the towering cliffs. “It feels like we’ve stepped into another world.”

The guide led you through the Tanjung Rhu River, Kisap River, and Kilim River, each stretch offering breathtaking views. At one point, you visited a fish farm and even ventured into the crocodile and bat cave, marveling at the natural formations.

When the cruise ended, the day slowly gave way to evening, and you returned to the resort. Lando had made a reservation for an outdoor dinner at the resort’s restaurant, with the table set against the backdrop of the sparkling Andaman Sea.

You were sitting right across from Lando, the soft glow of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. “Today was really perfect,” you said, voice warm.

Lando reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Well, that’s because I spent it with you.”

“To more days like this,” you said, raising your glass with your free hand.

“To more days with you,” Lando replied, raising his glass as well.

The waves whispered against the shore as you clink your glasses together, ending the amazing fun filled day in the most serene and beautiful way imaginable.

On the third day, which is your last day in Malaysia, felt like the perfect opportunity to slow down and enjoy a more relaxed pace with Lando. After having your breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, you decided to explore Kuala Lumpur together and do some shopping, mostly picking out Christmas gifts for family and friends. Your first stop was Cartier, where the staff immediately recognized you and Lando as you entered the boutique.

“Welcome back,” one of them greeted warmly. “Please, follow us to the VIP room.”

The room was elegant and private, with plush seating and pristine glass displays showcasing Cartier’s finest collections. You scanned the displays carefully, selecting gifts that felt personal and meaningful. From time to time, you would turn to Lando for his opinion, holding a piece to show it to him.

“What do you think of this one, love?” you asked, turning a bracelet in your hands.

Lando leaned in to get a closer look, studying it for a brief moment. “It’s nice, but maybe this design suits them better,” he suggested, pointing to another piece that has more classic finish to it.

His input was reassuring, and you found yourself smiling more with every choice you made. So piece by piece, you finalized your selections and decided to have each of it engraved with the names. While the staff began the engraving process, you took the opportunity to explore the display cases further.

Your eyes fell on the iconic Love rings, their sleek designs catching the light. The delicate design, with its understated elegance and signature screw motif had drawn you in immediately. You paused, gazing at them a little longer than you had intended. They were very stunning, and the thought of having matching ones with Lando crept into your mind.

For a moment, you let your mind wander. The thought of having matching Love rings with Lando made your heart flutter. It would be such a sweet symbol of your relationship, a quiet nod to the love you shared. But as quickly as the thought came, doubt crept in. Would he even want to wear something like that? You had only been together for a year, and while your relationship felt deep and serious, you weren’t even sure if he’d see it the same way.

“Miss?” the associate’s voice gently pulled you back to the present. “The items have been engraved and wrapped. Would you like us to send them directly to your hotel?”

You smiled, nodding. “Yes, please. That would be perfect. We still have some plans for the day.”

The associate assured you that everything would be taken care of. You thanked them again and turned to Lando, who was casually leaning against the counter, watching you with an easy smile. What you didn’t realize was that he had caught the way your gaze lingered on the Love rings earlier. But he decided not to say anything, only offering you his hand as the two of you prepared to leave.

“Ready to go?” he asked, voice gentle.

“Yes, let’s go,” you replied, sliding your hand into his.

As you both left the store hand in hand, the shopping bags destined for your hotel, Lando’s mind was already working, his thoughts drifting back to the love rings and making a mental note.

Finally, Dior was your final stop, and as you stepped into the elegantly designed VIP room, the ambiance felt as refined and luxurious as always. The staff greeted you warmly, offering refreshments and giving you a moment to settle in before showing you all of the latest collections.

You browsed through the items thoughtfully, then occasionally turning to Lando for his input, yet again, on potential gifts and personal picks. He followed you closely, hands tucked casually in his pockets, his easy demeanor adding a comfortable balance.

As you admired a pair of beautiful heels, Lando leaned in slightly, tone light but teasing. “You know your luggage is already packed to the brim, right?”

You paused mid-reach, blinking at him as his words sank in. “Wait…really?”

He nodded, trying to suppress a grin. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’d have to sit on it just to zip it up.”

With the sudden realization, you glanced back at the shelves, and you turned to the sales associate with a smile. “Do you have any luggage available in stock?”

The associate’s face lit up. “We do, actually! Let me bring it out for you.”

As the associate disappeared into the back, Lando let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Only you would come shopping for gifts and leave with luggage to carry it all.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “Well, if you’re going to go shopping, might as well do it properly.”

The associate soon returned, rolling out a sleek Dior luggage piece in a design you hadn’t seen before that caught your attention immediately. Its understated design and impeccable craftsmanship stood out, and you took a moment to examine it closely.

“This is perfect,” you said decisively, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “I’ll take it. I don’t have one in this design yet, so it’ll be a great addition.”

Lando chuckled softly beside you as you made your way to the counter. When the associate had totaled the purchase, he casually pulled out his black card and handed it over, placing it on the counter.

“Here, I’ve got this,” he said smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small grin.

“No,” you reached into your bag without hesitation, pulling out your own black card and handing it to the associate directly. “I’m paying for this, please. It’s my shopping.”

The associate glanced between the two of you, clearly confused and trying to decide whose card to take. You were sure that the associate would take your card, so you focused briefly on a nearby display of handbags, thinking which designs might fit into your collection. While you were distracted, Lando seized the opportunity.

“Swipe it on mine,” he said quietly, giving the associate a quick, reassuring nod.

By the time you turned your attention back, the transaction was already complete, and the staff were carefully packing the luggage and other items into Dior’s signature paper bags.

“What just happened?” you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly as Lando smiles cheekily at you.

“Nothing, babe,” he replied, tone far too innocent to be convincing. “Just making sure you’re not overworking your card today.”

You sighed, half-exasperated but mostly amused. “You’re impossible.”

“Just making sure your new luggage is properly christened,” he teased.

Shaking your head with a small smile, you turned back to the associate and asked, “would it be possible to have everything be delivered to our hotel? We’ve got a dinner reservation coming up, and it would be easier if we didn’t have to carry all this.”

“Of course, Miss,” they replied, nodding. “We’ll ensure everything is delivered promptly.”

“Thank you,” you said warmly before turning back to Lando. “Ready to go?”

Lando placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

By the time you stepped out of Dior, the soft glow of dusk had already begun to settle over the city, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The streets were alive with the hum of evening traffic, but your thoughts were focused on the dinner reservation at Akar Dining.

The drive to the restaurant was peaceful, with Lando’s hand resting on your thigh as the car navigated the streets. You arrived just in time, the warm ambiance of the restaurant immediately wrapping around you as you stepped inside, the host greeted you and guided you to your table. Lando, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair, his hand lingering briefly on the back of it as you sat down.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a small smile, adjusting the hem of your dress as you settled in.

Lando took his seat across from you just as a waiter approached your table with the menus. The dimly lit atmosphere, paired with the sophisticated decor had made the evening feel intimate and special. As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a few dishes you knew you would enjoy, while Lando appeared slightly less certain.

“So, what are you thinking of getting?” you asked, glancing up from your menu to find him frowning slightly.

“Honestly?” he set the menu down for a moment, leaning back in his chair. “Most of these seafood dishes aren’t really my thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “It’s fine, just pick something else. You don’t have to love everything on the menu.”

Eventually, he decided on the braised aged duck, and you ordered a seafood dish that intrigued you. As you waited for the food, you took a sip of your water, your gaze lingering on Lando. The memory of what happened at Dior earlier was still fresh in your mind, and you decided to address it.

“By the way,” you began, setting your glass down. “Thank you for paying earlier at Dior, but you really didn’t have to, Lan.”

Lando shrugged casually, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Of course I did. You shouldn’t have to pay for something when I’m right here.”

You sighed lightly, tilting your head at him. “Lan, I can pay for my own things. I don’t want to rely on you all the time, especially when it’s my shopping.”

“I know you can,” he replied, tone soft but firm. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to. It’s not about whether you can afford it—it’s about me wanting to take care of you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a playful grin. “And before you argue, I’m not budging on this.”

“Well, if you’re so insistent on paying for everything,” you said, leaning forward slightly, “then at least let me pay for dinner tonight.”

“Not happening, love,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair with an air of finality.

“Lando,” you started, but the waiter returned just then with your food, momentarily halting the conversation.

As you both began to eat, you couldn’t help but glance at him occasionally, trying to come up with a way to outmaneuver him when the bill comes. Lando seemed thoroughly engrossed in his braised aged duck, nodding approvingly after the first few bites.

“This is actually really good,” he remarked, gesturing to his plate with his fork.

“It was worth the try,” you said with a satisfied smile, enjoying your own meal.

When the plates were cleared, the waiter had returned with the bill, and you reached for it instinctively, smiling as you’re about to get a hand on it, but to your dismay, Lando was faster. He snatched it from the waiter’s hand with a smoothness that left you momentarily stunned, his card already out and ready. Without a word, he placed it on the bill and handed it back to the waiter before you could even blink.

“Lando Norris!” you hissed, voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “I told you I was paying for dinner.”

“And I told you that you’re not,” he replied, tone calm and unbothered.

You stared at him, incredulous. “You can’t keep doing this. I have my own money, you know. I don’t need you to pay for everything, my love.”

“I know you don’t,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “But I wanted to. A gentleman never let his woman pay. End of story.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted gently, gaze soft but resolute. “I know that you’re independent, and I love that about you. But letting me take care of you every now and then doesn’t make you any less independent.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “At some point, you have to let me pay too. I don’t want to feel like I’m relying on you for everything.”

“I get that. But tonight isn’t the point,” he said, as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Letting me take care of you once in a while doesn’t mean you’re relying on me. It just means that I love you.”

Your heart softened at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away your objections. “Fine,” you murmured, though a playful edge crept into your tone. “But one day, you’re letting me pay for something. Mark my words.”

Lando chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a wide grin. “We’ll see about that.”

After an amazing dinner, you were finally back in your hotel. The moment you stepped inside the room, the exhaustion from the day’s adventures hit you like a wave. You slipped off your sandals with a sigh of relief, placed your bag on the vanity, and immediately collapsed onto the plush bed, letting the softness swallow you whole. Lando was not far behind, shutting the door with a soft click before walking over to where you lay sprawled out. He chuckled as he kicked off his sneakers, tossing them aside without any care.

“You look absolutely done,” he teased, voice laced with affection.

Without another word, he climbed onto the bed beside you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close. You didn’t protest, in fact, you just melted into his embrace—his warmth and familiar scent of his cologne instantly soothing your tired muscles.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you murmured lazily, though you made no effort to move. “We still need to pack for tomorrow. I need to arrange the things we bought today inside the new luggage.”

Lando nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Mhmm…packing can wait.” he said as he kissed your collarbone. “I just want to stay like this for a bit. It’s been such a good trip.”

You smiled faintly, tilting your head slightly to rest against his. “It really has. I think this was exactly what we needed, huh? Just us, no distractions.”

“Uh huh. No meetings, no interruptions…” Lando added with a sigh, tightening his hold on you. “I wish we could stay longer. Feels like I’ve barely scratched the surface here.”

You laughed softly. “You’re the one who extended our stay by an extra day. If we keep this up, we might not even make it to the UK in time for Christmas.”

He groaned dramatically, pulling you even closer. “Fine, you win. We’ll leave tomorrow, but I’m telling you, we’re coming back here next year.”

“Alright,” you replied, voice muffle as you buried your face in his chest.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke, content to lie tangled in each other’s arms as the city lights outside cast a faint glow into the hotel room.

“Okay, okay,” you finally said, breaking the peaceful silence. “We really need to pack, babe. I’m not about to start throwing things into a suitcase at five in the morning.”

He groaned again but rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How about I do the packing, and you stay here looking all pretty?”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, swatting his arm lightly. “If you pack, I’ll end up with half my things missing and thrown with wrinkles.”

Lando laughed, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “Alright, fine. Let’s get it over with, but you owe me cuddles afterwards.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you slid off of the bed. “Deal. Now, let’s get moving before you start whining again.”

He grinned, grabbing his suitcase and tossing it onto the bed with enthusiasm. “You know me so very well.”

As you were neatly folding a dress and placing it neatly in your suitcase, your phone rang, cutting through the quiet hum of activity in the hotel room. You glanced at the screen and saw Nick’s caller ID flashing. Your eyes immediately widened, and your stomach sank slightly—you had completely pushed aside the chaos from earlier in Singapore.

“Nicky,” you murmured, picking up the phone and quickly answering. Lando glanced up from his own packing, curious.

The moment the call connected, Nick’s face filled your screen, grinning from ear to ear. Before you could say anything, he shouted out, “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

Your jaw dropped, and your heart leapt. “WHAT?!” you screamed, startling Lando, who immediately moved closer to check. “Oh my god! Nicky, are you serious?!”

Nick nodded excitedly, his smile growing wider. “Yes! I proposed to Rachel earlier, and she said yes! We’re getting married!”

A loud scream of happiness escaped you, and grabbed both Lando’s hands and jumped up and down, causing Lando to follow your lead, with you chanting ‘Nick and Rachel are getting married’ a couple of times. Both of you jumping like you’re in a cult, chanting to summon something.

“Nicky, this is amazing news! I’m so happy for you and Rachel! Oh my god, I’m going to cry!” you said, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

Lando laughed and leaned into the frame, resting a hand on your waist. “Congratulations, mate! That’s incredible news!”

“Thanks, man!” Nick said, grinning even wider. He turned back to you, clearly eager to share more details. “Mom finally came around, and she gave me the emerald ring to propose with. I actually chased Rachel to the airport, it turns out she was about to leave, already inside the plane and I just dropped on one knee and proposed to her. You should’ve seen Rachel’s face when I pulled out the ring, she was so shocked.”

You clutched your chest dramatically. “Nick, that’s so beautiful. I’m so, so happy for you both.”

Nick chuckled, his excitement very evident. “But wait, there’s more. I’m throwing a surprise engagement party for Rachel tomorrow night, and I need you both there. Please say you can come.”

You glanced over at Lando, your eyes silently asking if he was okay with changing plans. Lando, ever the supportive boyfriend that he is, nodded without any hesitation.

“We’re both in,” you said to Nick. “We’ll fly back to Singapore tomorrow.”

Nick let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you! I can’t wait to see you both, and don’t worry, it won’t be a massive party, just a small gathering of close friends and family.”

“We will not miss it,” you assured him. “But just so you know, we’ll have to leave right after the party. We’re expected in the UK before Christmas.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said, still beaming. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow then, and thank you, both of you, for being there for us.”

“Of course,” you replied, voice soft with emotion. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

After ending the call, you turned to Lando, who was smiling at your obvious joy. “Looks like we’re making another detour,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, wouldn’t have it any other way,” Lando replied, pulling you into a quick hug before returning to his packing.

The flight from Malaysia to Singapore passed quickly, only an hour long. You and Lando had decided to leave in the afternoon to allow yourselves some extra time to relax before the engagement party. By the time the private jet touched down at a private tarmac in Changi Airport, the sky had shifted to a warm, dusky hue.

You were already dressed for the event, adjusting the hem of your dress as you prepared to disembark. Your outfit for tonight complimented Lando’s outfit perfectly, a choice you both had coordinated without much effort. Deciding not to take your belongings off of the jet since you would be leaving Singapore immediately after the party. Taking one final glance at the jet’s sleek interior, you then stepped out.

Lando walked beside you, his hand firmly holding yours as he guided you down the steps of the jet. The heels you wore, though elegant, weren’t exactly forgiving, and his grip gave you the balance you needed. Once you reached the car waiting on the tarmac, he moved ahead, opening the door for you.

“Careful, love,” he murmured, holding out a hand to help you inside.

You gave Lando a small smile as you slid into the seat, careful not to wrinkle your dress. He followed right after, shutting the car door behind him. The soft hum of the car engine filled up the space as the vehicle pulled away, heading towards Marina Bay Sands. You then leaned into Lando slightly.

“You know,” Lando began with a playful smirk, “I think we’ve spent more time in Singapore lately than in Monaco.”

You laughed softly. “Tell me about it. It looks like we’ll be back here again sooner rather than later for Nick and Rachel’s wedding.”

He tilted his head in mock resignation. “I guess I’d better get used to the humidity then.”

“Oh come on,” you gave him a teasing nudge. “You’ve survived it so far. Besides, you look so good here, very tropical chic.”

Lando chuckled, resting his hand on yours. “Thanks, love. But seriously, it feels like everyone’s getting married or engaged all of a sudden. What’s with the December air.”

You sighed dramatically. “Tell me about it. First Colin and Minty, now Nick and Rachel, also don’t forget about my friend from Parsons! She’s getting married in Moscow next year and has already sent in the invitation.”

“Moscow, huh?” he mused. “Another flight for us?”

You glanced at him with a small smile. “If you want to come with me, that is. I don’t want to pressure you into attending all these weddings, I know that it can be really tiring.”

Lando tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Moscow, a wedding, and a chance to see you again in another dress? Sounds like a total dream, so it’s a yes for me.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love every bit of it,” he quipped, grinning.

As the car drove on, your thoughts began to drift. Weddings, engagements, proposals—it seemed like everyone around you was taking those big steps. You didn’t want to admit it, but that idea of marriage had been creeping into your mind more and more lately. It was not something you wanted to bring up, not yet, but still, it is a topic that had been occupying your mind.

You shook off the feeling, focusing instead on the city lights beginning to twinkle outside the car window. “Yeah, and I think that we’re going to need a bigger calendar,” you joked.

Lando laughed, resting a hand on your knee. “As long as you’re on it, I don’t mind.”

The car rolled to a smooth stop at the grand entrance of Marina Bay Sands, with the city lights reflecting off the sleek glass facade. The chauffeur had exited first, circling around to open your door, and before you could step out, Lando was already at your side, extending a hand to help you out of the car.

“I’ll be here at the agreed time to take you back to the airport, ma’am.” the chauffeur said as he tipped his hat.

“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile.

Lando intertwined your hands, and you both began walking towards the entrance. The evening air was warm, and the energy surrounding the iconic building was palpable. A few people by the lobby immediately recognized Lando, and their eyes widened when they noticed you by his side.

“Excuse me,” a young woman asked hesitantly, clutching her phone. “Would it be alright if I can get a quick photo with you both?”

Lando exchanged glances with you and nodded warmly. “Of course, just a quick one.”

You stepped aside with him, pausing for a few photos, each person thanking you both profusely afterwards. Once the small crowd dispersed, you and Lando resumed your walk, making your way to the elevators that would take you to the sky deck. The elevator ride was smooth and swift, and when the doors opened, the familiar faces of your family, Nick’s closest friends, and your cousins scattered throughout the beautifully decorated space.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, you spotted your mother first. She stood near one of the seating areas, speaking animatedly with one of your aunts. You guided Lando over, and her expression shifted to surprise the moment she saw you both.

“Darling!” your mother exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Hi, Mom,” you greeted, smiling warmly before stepping aside so Lando could greet her.

Your mother opened her arms invitingly. “Lando, come here.”

Lando hugged her briefly but warmly, a soft laugh escaping him. “Hello, Auntie. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” your mother replied, taking a step back to look at you both. “I thought you’d already be in the UK by now.” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“We were supposed to leave after the day after the wedding,” you explained, “but we decided to make a quick stop in Malaysia for a few days. Then Nicky called last night and asked us to come, so here we are.”

She smiled knowingly. “Always the supportive cousin. But you’re leaving tonight?”

“Yes, the jet is on standby at the airport,” you confirmed. “We’ll head straight there after the party.”

Your mother nodded in satisfaction, and gave Lando a pat on the shoulder. “Well, you enjoy yourselves tonight. It’s a rare sight to see you two so relaxed.”

You and Lando exchanged a small smile before moving on to greet Colin and Araminta, who were just chatting near the champagne table.

“Hey!” Colin greeted, giving you both a hug. “I didn’t think we’d see you two again so soon.”

“Neither did we,” you replied with a laugh. “But here we are.”

You turned to Araminta, who hugged you warmly, then stepped back, smiling brightly. “It’s so good to see you again, and Lando, of course! You’re becoming quite the fixture at family events!”

Lando grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Colin smirked. “At this rate, uncle’s going to give him the talk soon, if he hasn’t already. Then we all know whose wedding we’ll be attending soon after Nick and Rachel’s.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Too late, Dad already gave him the talk, and even Ah Ma had given her blessing.”

Lando grinned, playing along. “Proud to say that I’ve passed all the tests by now.”

Araminta gasped dramatically, nudging Colin. “See? It’s official now. We’ll start saving the date!”

The four of you exchanged pleasantries and some laughs for a few moments before your attention was drawn to a surprising sight. Standing by the bar were none other than Bernard and Kitty, a pair you had not expected to see here at all. You caught Lando’s eye, and he gave you a subtle shrug, clearly just as a surprise.

Shaking it off, you turned your focus back, making your way toward your aunts. Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, who were all chatting in a tight circle. You approached with Lando by your side, greeting each of them in turn with a polite kiss on the cheek and a warm smile.

“Ah, you’re here!” your Auntie Alix smiled. “I thought you were in the UK already.”

“Nick called,” you explained with a smile, “so here we are.”

“Well, we’re glad you made it,” your Auntie Jacqueline chimed in, “and you’re glowing tonight.” she added, her gaze flitting between you and Lando.

“Must be the Malaysian sun,” Lando jokes, earning a soft laugh from the group.

Your Auntie Eleanor gave Lando a sharp but playful look. “You’re certainly making yourself comfortable with this family, aren’t you?”

Lando smiled politely. “I’m just trying to keep up,” satisfied with his answer, your Auntie Eleanor waved you off with a chuckle.

Nick and Rachel hadn’t arrived yet, so you and Lando decided to take the opportunity to mingle with other guests. The evening was lively, with laughter and champagne flowing freely.

Several guests had approached you and Lando for photos, and you obliged, posing with ease. Lando kept a hand on your lower back, guiding you smoothly through the crowd as you moved from one group to another.

From across the room, you noticed your cousin Oliver weaving his way through the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he head towards you. As he approached, you and Lando turned to greet him.

“Oliver!” you said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Hey you two,” he said, giving you both a smile before continuing. “I want to introduce you to Rachel’s best friend. She’s dying to meet you.”

Curious, you exchanged a glance with Lando before agreeing. “Of course! Lead the way.”

Following Oliver, you navigated through the elegantly dressed guests until you stopped in front of a small group of people.

“Here we are,” Oliver said, motioning toward a striking woman with a vibrant smile. “This is Rachel’s best friend, Goh Peik Lin.”

You extended your hand toward her. “Peik Lin, it’s so nice to meet you!”

Peik Lin shook your hand warmly. “And it’s so nice to meet you as well!”

Your gaze traveled briefly over her outfit, a beautifully tailored dress that exuded elegance and sophistication. “I have to say, your outfit is incredible. You have such impeccable taste.”

Her smile widened, excitement evident. “Oh stop, you’re going to make me blush! But thank you, it means a lot coming from someone as stylish as you.”

Oliver then turned to the older couple standing beside Peik Lin. “And these are Peik Lin’s parents, Goh Wye Mun and Goh Nenna.”

You offered a polite smile as you greeted them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. and Mrs. Goh.”

Nenna’s eyes sparkled as she took your hand. “Just call us Auntie Nenna and Uncle Wye Mun! And my goodness, you’re even more gorgeous in person! I’ve seen photos of you, and they don’t do you justice! You’re very stunning, my dear!”

You laugh softly, feeling a light warmth rise to your cheeks. “You’re too kind, Auntie Nenna. Thank you so much.”

Then you turned to Wye Mun, whose expression shifted slightly as recognition dawned on him. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re one of Harrison Sr. and Elizabeth Young’s children, aren’t you? Their only daughter,” he said, tone a mixture of surprise and admiration.

You nodded, smiling. “That’s right. I’ve heard of your family before as well. If my memory serves me right, you’re the owner of Goh Developments, correct? One of Singapore’s most successful real estate companies?”

Wye Mun chuckled, clearly pleased. “Yes, that’s about right. I’m flattered you know about us.”

“Of course!” you said. “Your company’s work is extraordinary. Some of your developments are architectural masterpieces.”

The brief exchange shifted naturally into a short discussion about real estate, with Wye Mun enthusiastically sharing tidbits about recent projects. Peik Lin listened intently, Oliver and Lando conversing with each other, while Nenna just watched the whole conversation with a smile.

You then gestured towards Lando afterwards, who had been standing quietly beside you. “Allow me to introduce to you my boyfriend, Lando.”

Lando extended his hand towards Wye Mun, who shook it firmly. Wye Mun’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah, Lando Norris! I watched you win the Singapore GP last September. Quite an incredible race, I must say. You’ve got some serious talent.”

“Thank you so much,” Lando said with a polite smile. “It was an unforgettable race for sure.”

“And I didn’t know that you were dating the darling of the Singaporean social elite!” Wye Mun added with a playful tone, eyes twinkling.

“Oh Wye Mun, look at them!” Nenna interjected, her gaze moving between you and Lando. “They look so good together, a very beautiful couple. Perfect match!”

Wye Mun nodded in agreement, tone light. “Quite the power couple, I’d say.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their comment, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you with a soft expression. “Thank you,” you replied simply.

The conversation continued easily, with the group exchanging stories and laughs. The atmosphere was warm, and you felt genuinely pleased to meet Rachel’s best friend and their family.

As the buzz of conversation faded into hushed whispers, Araminta stepped forward with a smile and announced, “Nick and Rachel are on their way up now! Everyone, take your positions.”

You and Lando stood slightly off to the side, his hand on your waist, caressing it softly and tracing shapes. The elegant lighting of the sky deck reflected off the cityscape, casting a soft glow over the gathered guests.

Lando leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You know,” he whispered, tone teasing, “it was so hot watching you talk business with Wye Mun earlier. You looked so serious and confident.”

You glanced at him, barely suppressing a smile, and gave his chest a soft slap. “Stop being cheeky right now, Norris,” you muttered, keeping your voice low to avoid drawing any attention.

But it looks like Lando was not done yet. He grinned at you mischievously, his voice dipping lower. “I mean it, baby. The way you talked about developments and projects? Very impressive, very attractive.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “Lando,” you whispered warningly, “behave. This is not the time.”

He bit back a chuckle, amusement evident. “Fine, fine. But you should know, I can’t help it when you’re like that.”

You shushed him quietly, your finger briefly brushing his lips. “Quiet now,” you insisted softly, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.

As you returned your focus to the party, your thoughts flicked back to your earlier conversation with Wye Mun. Real estate development has always intrigued you—the intricacies, potential, and stories behind every project. It was not just a polite conversation, it was a chance to learn and build connections.

“Besides,” you murmured to Lando, keeping your tone casual, “it’s always good to broaden your network. Even if I already have so many, there’s no harm in widening the circle.”

Lando nodded, his expression now a mix of curiosity and pride. “Well, you’ve got a point,” he said softly.

You let your eyes wander across the crowd, noting a few familiar faces mingling among the guests. “This place is full of businesspeople—major players in the industry, tonight,” you whispered to him. “I can recognize a few who could even be potential sponsors for McLaren.” Lando raised a brow at you, intrigued.

You turned to him, giving him a playful wink. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll help you land a deal or two.”

Lando smirked, leaning in closer to you again. “Now that,” he said, tone low and teasing, “is a kind of teamwork I can get behind.”

The sky deck fell in a hush as everyone stood in their positions, waiting for Nick and Rachel’s arrival. The atmosphere was buzzing, a mix of excitement and happiness among the crowd. The distant hum of the elevator announced their approach, and then, with a soft chime, doors slid open.

Nick stepped out first, his hands gently covering Rachel’s eyes as he carefully guided her forward into the middle of the crowd. Rachel, her posture both curious and expectant, laughed lightly, clearly amused by the surprise. The whole crowd held its collective breath, watching as Nick finally removed his hands from Rachel’s eyes.

The second her eyes opened, the silence of the crowd was replaced with an eruption of cheers and applause. Screams of happiness echoed across the sky deck, led enthusiastically by Colin and Araminta. Rachel’s expression had transformed into one of pure, radiant happiness as she took sight of everyone gathered for her. Overwhelmed with emotion, she raised her hand, showing off the stunning emerald ring that sparkled under the lights, then pointing to it with a grin.

People surged forward, surrounding Nick and Rachel with hugs and congratulations. You and Lando joined in with the crowd, your laughter blending with everyone else’s as you approached the newly engaged couple.

“Congratulations!” you said, beaming as you hugged Rachel tightly. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Nick grinned, pulling you into a quick hug as well. “Thank you for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Lando shook Nick’s hand before giving Rachel a warm hug. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Nick, ever the joker, glanced between you and Lando, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know,” he began, tone playful, “I have a strong feeling you two might be the next one.”

Rachel, catching on, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, absolutely! We’ll have to start planning your engagement party real soon.”

You and Lando exchanged amused looks, chuckling. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you replied, though your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

As much as you adored Nick and Rachel, you did not need them adding more fuel to the fire—you were already simmering with wedding fever.

After the flood of congratulations, Nick took Rachel’s hand and gently guided her attention towards the infinity pool, where a group of synchronized swimmers began an elegant performance, their movements perfectly timed to the music. Rachel gasped softly, her eyes lighting up with wonder as she watched.

Then, from the corner of our eye, you noticed Rachel spotting your Auntie Eleanor standing a little way off. For a brief moment, the noise and excitement seemed to face as the two women exchanged a look, one of understanding and newfound respect. The warmth in Rachel’s smile and the subtle nod from your Auntie Eleanor spoke volumes. It filled your heart with joy to see that your aunt had finally come around, embracing Rachel in the way she deserved.

Nick then pulled Rachel into a tender kiss, earning a round of applause and cheers again from the crowd. Lando stepped behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, holding you close. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel his warmth radiating through you.

The sound of fireworks exploding above pulled everyone’s attention upward. Bright colors lit up the sky, reflecting off the glass and water, painting the moment in vibrant hues. The cheers grew louder, people pointing and marveling at the display. You stayed like that, wrapped in Lando’s arms, watching the sky.

With fireworks still illuminating the sky and Lando’s arms wrapped securely around you, a quiet realization settled in your heart. It was not something sudden, it was something that had been building over time, piece by piece, moment by moment. The depth of love that you feel for Lando was staggering, overwhelming even, and yet it felt so natural.

You had dated before, countless boys who had seemed charming or interesting at the time, but none of them had ever come close to Lando. They never understood you the way Lando did. With him, there was no guessing, pretending, or effort to mold yourself into someone else’s idea of what love should look like. Lando saw you, truly saw you, in a way that no one else ever had. To be seen was to be loved.

This was what set Lando apart. With him, you never had to explain your silences, quirks, or the way your mind wandered to far-off places. He did not just tolerate those things, in fact, he cherished them. He loved them. With Lando, you felt understood in a way that words could never fully capture.

You thought back to the other relationships before Lando, the boys who had come before. They had their moments, but they always felt…incomplete. There had been a disconnect, a lingering sense that you were only partly there, only partly understood. They never have you the feeling that Lando did—feeling of being wholly, entirely loved. Lando was the man that you had been praying for, and for once, God had led Lando to you.

Sure, the way he loved you was not perfect, but it was honest. It was raw and real, and it made you feel more like yourself than you ever thought possible. Lando had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like his entire focus was only on you and no one else. That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? You had never felt this way with anyone else, and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Lando was not just someone you loved—he was the person you wanted to spend your forever with.

The thought settled deeply in your chest, filling every corner of your heart with an indescribable warmth. It was not just that you loved him—it was that he was home.

“I love you,” you looked up at him, smiling.

Lando looked at you, smiling. He then whispered, “I love you too, so fucking much.”

taglist : @sheblogs

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muletia · 8 months ago

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[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you had to go on a business trip. optimus doesn't take it too well

cw: obsessed!optimus, hardcore pinning, angst, i wanted to practice writing dialogues and it shows lmao

word count: 1800

an: i want you guys to know that i am reading EVERY reblog and comment from you swirling my hair and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl

you are so real for that anon

When you, out of your own free will, expressed the desire to join him on patrol, Optimus was overjoyed. You rarely got the chance to be together, just the two of you, always consumed by work or saving the world. And although Optimus wouldn’t dare ask you outright to accompany him on patrols (because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable), he deeply longed to spend more time with you alone. He knew he was feeding only his own illusions, fueling the machinery of madness, but by this point, he couldn’t stop. Not when you sat comfortably on his seat, gazing at the views outside the window, visibly content with your outing together.

He wanted so badly for this to be your everyday reality. Maybe then he could finally find some relief from his fixation, maybe you would even save him.

"Hey," you started, and his entire attention focused on you. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while."

Oh.

Did your feelings match his? Did you feel affection for him as well? Had you noticed his suffering? Or maybe you wanted to reject him, once and for all, to make him understand that his passion was an illusion, that no matter how much he wanted it, the two of you could never be together — too incompatible, too different. That he had developed this coping mechanism, exhausted by the war.

But before Optimus could spiral further, you crushed his hopes.

"The company I work for is sending me on a business trip," you sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the news. "It’s supposed to take two weeks, but you never really know with these trips, especially since they’re sending me across the continent."

"I understand," he replied, his tone not betraying the turmoil within. "What does this business trip involve?"

"Oh, shoot, sorry! I should have explained that right away," you laughed casually as if you hadn’t just delivered news that shattered his spark. "Business trip is assigned by an employer for training sessions, conferences, exhibitions, and other boring stuff. Kind of like a mission, but without explosions, action, or danger."

It was good to hear that you’d be safe, though you would truly be safest only at the base, under his watchful optics.

Pessimistic, ugly thoughts churned in his processor. Of all the things he expected to hear from you, this wasn’t one of them. Suddenly, he feared being alone, feared his own dreams. Because he knew you wouldn’t be there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nothing else could bring him peace.

"I am sorry to hear we will not see each other for two weeks," he said, "but I am confident you will do exceptionally well on this assignment. You are dependable, unyielding. You can handle anything."

"Oh, thank you," you answered, a bit flustered. You hadn’t expected a compliment. "It just makes me sad to leave Jasper. I don’t say it often enough, but I have a wonderful time with all of you. With you."

"Likewise, [Name]. When are you leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow after work, I’ll say goodbye to everyone else."

So soon. Too soon. He’d hoped you wouldn’t leave until next week, to at least give him time to mentally prepare for the separation, but you denied him that luxury. Not that any amount of time would have prepared him for this.

Slowly, subtly enough that you wouldn’t notice the change, he reduced his speed, prolonging your shared drive.

"I’m not sure I’ll have time to write," you warned. "Unfortunately, they’ve given me a really tight schedule. But! If I can, I’ll write to the kids. Oh, and expect some souvenirs — I’ll bring something back for you all."

"You do not need to spend your valuable time searching for trinkets. But if you insist, I will cherish anything you bring me."

"Aw, don’t worry—it’ll be no trouble." You waved your hand dismissively. "You do so much for me, for the kids, for the whole Earth without asking for anything in return. You deserve something nice."

"I do not protect your planet for glory or offerings."

"I know, I know. That’s very noble. And amazing. So many years, sticking firmly to your values."

He eagerly soaked up your praise, allowing himself, if only for a brief moment, to forget the world around him, to forget his duties, unfulfilled promises, fallen brothers and sisters. He’d never describe himself as 'amazing', nor did he believe the praise his own kind gave him about his greatness. But for you, he could believe it. If only for a moment, a few seconds, so that you’d leave on your mission thinking warmly of your time together and of him.

"Thank you, [Name]. Please know that I value your words tremendously."

"Oh," you blushed, "that’s nice to hear."

Embarrassed, you quickly changed the subject, unaware that Optimus was watching you closely, curious about your reaction. For now, he pushed thoughts of your departure to the back of his processor, wanting to fully enjoy your presence. You recommended songs from the country genre, one of his favorite discoveries on Earth, which he promised to listen to later. He knew well that this would lead to more daydreaming, imagining a future that would never be. Because no matter how hard he tried, his tomorrow would not be entwined with yours. His desires would forever remain mere fantasies born out of desperation, longing, and sorrow.

A week had passed since you left. In the lives of the Autobots, not much had changed because of your absence; they went on with their chaotic schedule. The kids, however, missed you. No more evenings spent helping them with their homework, working on your reports, playing games, or simply chatting. The worst part was that no one really knew what was going on with you. You rarely messaged, didn’t have time to talk, and when you did, it was just to say, "I’m alive, it’s boring, I’ll message you on Thursday." Life continued, despite how much Miko wished she could play games with you instead of doing her homework.

Everyone managed to adapt to your absence.

With one exception.

At first glance, it seemed like Optimus, the bot with whom you shared the closest bond, hadn’t been affected by such a drastic change. Nothing in his behavior indicated any longing. He didn’t express his opinion on the matter, didn’t ask, didn’t demand. As always, he buried his feelings deep within, playing the role of a diligent leader, hiding from everyone the nightmares running through his processor, now even more intense because of your absence.

He was withering, quietly and alone.

Until now, he had been content simply watching you. He had established a routine, unhealthy as it was, that kept him going. He knew that most of the time when he returned from patrol or a mission, you would be at the base. Even if you came every other or every third day, Optimus knew that eventually, you would show up. It gave him a sense of stability amidst the chaos surrounding him. But now? Maybe two weeks wasn’t a big challenge for you, but he was done after one.

Now, he wanted to be more than a passive observer. He craved physical contact, to hold you close, to feel your heartbeat against his metal. He wanted to know you were alive, to feel your pulse under his digit, to listen to its rhythm, to understand how your chest moved against his metal. He wanted to feel, taste, touch, enter.

He kept glancing at the spot on the couch where you usually sat with your laptop on your lap or spent time with the kids as if hoping that if he looked just one more time, you would materialize there. That everything would return to normal, that he wouldn’t suffer so much, that you would give him the daily dose of antidote he needed to function without plunging deeper into despair. But no matter how many times he looked, you weren’t there, and wouldn’t be for another week.

At some point, however, someone noticed their leader’s miserable mood.

"I can’t quite figure out what kind of bond you have with that woman," Ratchet said, pausing his work to look at Optimus. Before his friend could answer, he continued, "But she’ll be back soon. And whatever she’s doing, she’ll do it well. She’s tough."

"Thank you, old friend. I have no doubt in her abilities. But I would feel better if she were stationed closer to the base in case of a Decepticon attack."

"Mm-hmm," the medic scoffed. "Sure, that’s all it’s about."

Optimus had no response to that. He wasn’t surprised that Ratchet noticed his infatuation, but he would prefer that his friend not delve into the details of their relationship. At least, not yet. Not while Optimus himself was a wreck.

"Hey, hey! [Name] messaged!" Miko yelled.

The Autobot leader immediately approached the platform, finally abandoning his conversation with Ratchet, aware that it would only spark more suspicions. But he didn’t care anymore, not in such an important moment.

He stood directly behind Miko, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead beside him, equally curious to know what you had been up to over the past week.

"She sent photos, too! Look!"

Miko turned to show the messages to the others but paused when she noticed Optimus’s helm close to her.

“Whoa,” she whispered, surprised that out of all the bots, he was the one standing the closest. She swallowed, but her confidence quickly returned.

Holding her phone firmly, she displayed a close-up selfie of you. You were smiling, though the bags under your eyes betrayed that you were sleep-deprived, probably exhausted.

Optimus felt the accumulated stress, pain, and longing of the past week slowly dissipate. Everything was fine with you. You were alive, pushing forward with a smile on your face, happy to simply exist. Admiring your photo didn’t compare to seeing you in person, but it let him vent a little easier, granting him a brief respite from worry, gnawing at him from within. It was enough. For now. For a moment.

“She sends her regards to everyone,” Miko went on, “Oh, and she also asked Ratchet to take a break and mentioned she already bought a gift for Optimus and can’t wait to come back. Hey, I want a present, too!”

Optimus couldn't be certain if another week apart wouldn’t inflict even more damage on his processor and spark, or if longing would eventually consume him entirely. But he knew he was already lost, that you held sway over every aspect of his life. He was wrapped around your finger, tethered by a leash you didn’t even realize existed. And he didn’t mind one bit.

#transformers #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #tfp #obsessed!optimus

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 5 months ago

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wedding. l Joel Miller

Summary: something unusual happened in Jackson

Warnings: mostly fluff, but also a little bit of angst, alcohol; Ellie, Tommy, Maria - appear there; reader feels insecure, mention of pregnancy

A/N: I like writing this series, it's comfortable for me. I think I've mentioned this before. I hope it makes someone smile too.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Joel smoothed his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked really decent, although he felt stupid at the same time. There were quiet noises behind the closed bathroom door, after a moment it opened and in the reflection of the mirror he saw you coming out wearing the dress he liked so much. He smiled to himself as your eyes met.

"You look good." You said, walking over to him and adjusting his collar.

"Not as good as you. Do we really have to go there?" You rolled your eyes "We could go somewhere together. You, me and your dress."

You patted his shoulder, amused "It's Shane's wedding. We should be there. Can you help me zip it up?"

You turned around and Joel deftly zipped up your dress, taking the opportunity to kiss the base of your neck. It was a beautiful day, and even if Joel thought the wedding was a stupid idea, he didn't want to ruin anyone's mood. Especially not you.

A few weeks passed. You slowly made your way outside of Jackson, with Joel or Shane. What happened to you was slowly becoming a bad memory, and you never asked Joel what happened that day when the door separated you both, and Maria walked you home.

You didn't have to ask, you knew. Joel had kept you safe in the way he thought was necessary. His family had to be safe, and you were definitely a part of it.

He felt really good as you walked together to the orchard where flowers adorned the trees, and Shane and Ann decided to join in matrimony. The priest, an older man who had been in Jackson for a few years, was preparing for the ceremony as you took your seats somewhere in the back. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Ellie, who sat down on the other side with her friends, waved at you and raised her thumbs up to show that she liked your dress.

The excitement grew with every minute, weddings in Jackson were rare, and every resident knew Shane and wanted to accompany him at such a moment.

"She looks so beautiful..." you sighed as Ann, in a modest but beautiful white dress, stood with Shane in front of the priest. Her blonde hair flowed in waves down her back, and you saw total delight in her eyes.

Joel tilted his head to murmur in your ear "Mhmm, but not like you."

You nudged him lightly in the side. "Have you ever been married, Joel?" you asked without taking your eyes off what was happening in front of you.

He was silent for a moment, but finally spoke up "A long time ago, and for a very short time."

"I'm sorry."

"No need. I practically forgot about it." he replied, and when you looked at him he smiled slightly "These things happen."

"Yeah, you're probably right." You smiled too, although there was a bit of contemplation in it, and after a moment you looked back at Shane and Ann "I hope it won't happen to them. Especially since Ann... Shit."

Now you had Joel's full attention on you. And although you weren't looking at him, you felt that his brown eyes were glued to you with curiosity.

"What do you know?" he asked in a whisper, because you were still surrounded by many Jackson residents.

"Nothing." You answered far too quickly and too nervously.

"You know something. Tell me."

You bit your lip to hide your smile. Finally, however, you looked at him again and came closer to whisper in his ear "Ann's pregnant. Shane told me on the last patrol. They're so excited."

Joel mumbled something, but you didn't pay attention to it anymore. You didn't notice the strange shadow that appeared in his eyes, because the guests started clapping, and Shane and Ann kissed, thus officially becoming a married couple.

The Tipsy Bison looked different than usual. Fresh flowers were on every table, the space seemed brighter and more festive. The buzz of conversation and laughter mixed with the music, and the clinking of cutlery and glasses meant that everyone was having a great time. Joel and Tommy decided to check out the bottle of whiskey that Shane had placed on their table, and you took Maria's son into your arms so she could eat in peace.

"I feel guilty that you're here and not there." The woman mumbled as she put food on her plate. "Tommy should be watching his son. What are they even doing?"

"Leave it, it's not a problem. I love this guy." You kissed the chubby hand of the boy who was sitting on your lap and cooing happily. "This roast chicken is delicious."

"You convinced me!" she put on a chicken leg and took a sip of juice "I'm glad this wedding happened. People need positive moments like this."

"Yeah. I had the impression that the whole of Jackson was living for this wedding." you laughed.

You gossiped for a moment, stopping every now and then to greet someone who came to your table. Maria managed to eat in peace and even reached for a second helping. The baby in your arms played with spoons, and the music drew more and more people to the dance floor.

"Oh!" Maria suddenly straightened up and frowned. "It's her again."

"Who?" you asked, not really paying attention to anything, because Tommy's son had just decided to bite your fingers off.

"Hazel."

You turned around and noticed a slender brunette standing near Joel and Tommy. Her gaze was clearly fixed on the older Miller. Something twisted in your stomach.

Hazel had arrived in Jackson a few months ago along with a few other people. She quickly settled in and started working at a local store. That was probably where she noticed Joel. You had seen her start a conversation with him or approach him around Jackson a few times.

"Tommy said it was weird that so many things were breaking in her house." Maria mumbled. "And she always asks Joel to help her with it."

"Yeah, I know that." you replied, Hazel's hand squeezed Joel's shoulder. "Maybe... Oh my!"

The glass of juice tipped over, Maria's son must have tried to catch it while you were talking, and it spilled on your dress. The woman quickly stood up and took the little one from you, scolding him a little and at the same time trying to apologize to you.

"Don't worry, it's nothing." You replied, trying to wipe it with a napkin. "It's just juice and just a dress."

"But you looked so pretty in it!" Maria groaned. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry, really, it's nothing."

However, it was a lie, not a big one, but still. When you approached Joel a moment later, you felt very insecure. Hazel looked beautiful, and you had a huge stain from the juice on your dress. Maria quickly pulled Tommy away and pushed his babbling son into his arms.

"Hi. Nice dress." Hazel gave you a charming smile.

"Thank you." You mumbled uncertainly, and after a moment you felt Joel's gaze on you.

"Oh, what happened?" he asked "Do you want to go home and change?"

You shook your head. "No, it's just juice. Your nephew was a little careless, it'll dry soon."

The wet fabric stuck to your body unpleasantly, but you didn't want to show it. You realized that if Hazel wasn't standing next to you, you wouldn't even care, but now...

"I was just telling Joel that the washing machine in my house started making some strange noises. He promised to come over and take a look at it." Hazel smiled at you, "It's good to have someone with such talented hands around."

"Yes, indeed." you replied.

Joel's attention was drawn by Shane, who was determined to push another bottle of whiskey into his hands. For a moment, you and Hazel were silent, only exchanging polite smiles.

"How are you feeling in Jackson? I think you've settled in." You finally spoke up, and Hazel nodded.

"Yeah, it's a big change. But people are really friendly here, you know. And what do you do?"

"Patrols. Getting supplies. Stuff like that."

"It's good that you're helping Joel."

You felt awkward, but you plastered a smile on your face. "Right."

When Joel came back to you, Hazel's hand rested on his shoulder again, and a charming smile appeared on her pretty face. "So can I count on you? Will you come over tomorrow and check out the washing machine?"

The man nodded. "Sure, I'll come."

"Great. I'll make your favorite coffee."

This was beyond you and you quickly retreated towards the exit. The evening was warm and many people were spending it outdoors. Mr. Russo greeted you with a smile, and Rory ran around with the other kids.

"Running home already, huh?" Shane's voice almost made you jump.

"I needed some fresh air." You replied. "You look amazing, and your wife... Good luck to you both."

"Thank you." He took a sip from his glass. "You're not worried about this Hazel thing, are you? She's got her eye on Joel, but he's totally into you."

"You think so?"

Shane looked at you carefully. He knew you really well, trusted you, and knew how hard you'd been through, so your insecurity was painful for him.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

You sighed and folded your arms tightly over your chest. "I don't know. I don't remember feeling like this before... Sometimes I think I'm too weak... That maybe I'm not good at anything, at relationships, you know."

"Bullshit!" Shane hissed "I've been watching you and Joel for ages, you're made for each other."

"Please..."

"No, I'm telling you the truth! This guy would burn the world down for you, without hesitation. He'll fight for you, and you'll do anything for him too. Ask anyone you want."

"And Joel told you that?" you scoffed, but Shane just smiled.

"The world's biggest grump? Please! But I have eyes and I can see." He spread his arms "Come here."

You approached and Shane hugged you tightly. "I'm glad you're here with us. We're all happy."

"Thank you, Shane."

Someone cleared their throat behind you and patted Walsh on the back.

"I'd like to remind you that you're married, and she's here with me."

A warm feeling crept into your heart as you saw Joel standing behind you. His brown eyes looked at you with tenderness and attention.

"Everything okay?" he asked, Shane tapped him on the shoulder and disappeared inside "You left so suddenly."

"I'm okay." You smiled slightly "And you? How's Hazel and her washing machine doing."

Joel raised an eyebrow. "Is someone jealous? Honey, her washing machine can boil her clothes, I don't give a damn." His arm wrapped around your shoulders and he pulled you in, kissing your temple. "Ready to go back or do you still want some cake?"

"Let's go back. I'd like to get out of this wet dress." You groaned.

"I'd love to help you with that."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #short stories from life

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toudan · 4 months ago

Text

calling them by their real name instead of their pet name

FEATURING Cypher, Phoenix, Sova, Yoru (separate) | gender-neutral reader; fluff, established relationship; pet names used: babe, baby, honey, my love; no beta we die like Cypher in cinematics | wc: 300-500 each

AO3. masterlist. request rules. | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!!

“My love, can you get me a drink, please?”

“I don’t know, Amir, can I?”

The way he slowly turns around to look at you is comical. The fact that his mask already looks like a surprised expression didn’t help you, either. You quickly drop the amusement on your features, raising an eyebrow and staring blankly at him instead. Without looking at the remote, he pauses the programme on the television as he stares at you, flabbergasted.

“Did I forget something?”

You purse your lips. “What do you mean?”

“You called me Amir.”

“That’s your name.” You feign confusion. “What’s wrong with it?”

He gets up from the couch and makes his way toward you with urgency. You’re holding back a laugh as he holds your hands in his, trying to read your expression and figure you out. You didn’t think it would actually work on him. Calling him babe had been a slip of the tongue, but ever since it happened, he’s been adamant you call him that instead of Cypher. Considering you’re both often at work, that nickname is reserved for behind closed doors, within the walls of your own home.

“Are you angry at me?”

You can’t hold it in anymore—you burst into giggles, the sound filling the otherwise quiet room. Realising what you’re playing, he lets out a relieved sigh and warily takes a seat. Your little stunt had made him weak in the knees. You didn’t think it would actually work.

“I’m sorry. It was a joke,” you manage to say through your laughter. “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

He slouches over. “You could have killed me.”

“It’s okay, Cypher.”

“No,” he retorts. “Not Amir. Not Cypher.”

“But that’s your name.” You can practically see the frown on his face when he looks up at you. “Why can’t I call you that?”

“It’s not good for my heart.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer. His arms come to loop around your waist as he buries his face in your chest. “Is this better, honey?”

“Much better.”

Pet names had come naturally for you and Phoenix. He can’t go a sentence or two without saying love or babe. He’s affectionate with you, physically and verbally, and after watching a clip of it online, you wanted to know what he’d do if you said his name instead.

You’re relaxing on the bed as he lays his head on your lap, sinking into the softness of your thighs. You’re still engrossed in the article you’re reading on your tablet. It’s far more interesting than you’d initially given it credit for. It’s not related to the upcoming deadlines by any means, but you’re so close to going insane after nagging your group mates several times the past week. Phoenix staying over for the weekend is the perfect opportunity for you to ease your worries.

You’ve decided to test out the theory today, feeling particularly mischievous this afternoon. He fiddles with your fingers, staring up at the ceiling in complete boredom. You initially planned for it to be a lazy day today, having had an exhausting week, but as always, your beloved Jamie can never sit still.

“I’m just sayin’, we should go do something,” he complains and takes the tablet off your hands, tossing it to a random corner of the mattress. “You’ve been studying all week. You’re neglecting me, your boyfriend. Let’s go out and do something. Anything.”

“Sure, Jamie,” you reply offhandedly. “I’m done here anyway.”

“Great, I—Jamie?” he says incredulously, shooting you an offended look. “That’s not my name.”

“But it is your name.”

“No, I’m babe or baby. I don’t know who Jamie is.”

You glance down at him, lips curling into an amused smile. “That would be you, Jamie.”

“See? You’re doing it again!” He huffs, his brows furrowed together as he stares at you in disbelief. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing! I’m just talking to you like I always do,” you say, holding in a laugh. “You’re the one who’s acting weird.”

“Call me properly.”

“Jamie.”

“No!” he groans. “It’s babe!”

You finally let the laughter free, your shoulders shaking with mirth as you throw your head back. After calming down, you look back at him, beyond entertained by the pure displeasure on his face.

“God, fine, you big baby.”

“That’s still not it.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh and pretend to be annoyed, playfully rolling your eyes. “Okay, babe, let’s go out.”

“That’s more like it,” he grumbles. “Calling me Jamie. You’re so rude. I thought you loved me.”

Needless to say, you got exactly what you wanted.

Drowsiness still lingers in your system as you drag your slipper-clad feet across the wooden floor. There’s something about winter that just leaves you so fatigued all the time. You’re more used to the summer heat, feeling the sun’s rays warming your skin and sipping cold drinks. Here, there’s nothing but snow, and as much as you love Sasha, how he can willingly stay in this kind of weather is beyond you.

As if he could sense your plight, he wraps a hand around your waist and slides a warm drink your way. An idea goes off in your head. Sleepiness be damned—you need to tease this man now. Composing yourself, you take the mug and offer him a warm, appreciative smile.

“Thank you, Alexander.”

He freezes, a frown overtaking his features. “Have I done something wrong?”

The genuine confusion and distress in his tone makes it increasingly difficult to keep up your charade. He’s no stranger to your mischief; you tease him more times than he can count. Someone has to keep him on his toes, after all. Who else is perfect for the job, if not you? Still on a kick, you pretend nothing occurred, taking a sip of the drink and looking at him curiously.

“What?”

“You called me Alexander.” He stands in front of you, lips pursed in concern. His voice is soft, guilty over something that he didn’t do. “You never do that.”

You shrug casually. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Talk to me,” he says pleadingly, reaching out to cradle the side of your face. “What did I do?”

What was meant to be a silly joke winds up making you feel guilty. You only wanted to see how he’d react. The thought of actually upsetting him weighs heavy on your shoulders so you decide to give up the act, wanting to spare his feelings. Toying with someone as earnest as him was a terrible idea.

“I was just kidding,” you chuckle awkwardly. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Really?”

“Really.” You gently clasp your hand on top of his and nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I owe you some good loving now, don’t I?”

He returns the gesture, although there’s a hint of exasperation in his. “Yes. You do.”

You spend the rest of the morning glued to his side. He stays closer to you, talks to you more carefully. It takes several kisses for him to finally relax and be able to put his mind at rest. You’ll play around in a less worrying way next time.

You love getting on Yoru’s nerves.

You know it. He knows it. Everyone knows it. Even before you got together, you teased him a lot, revelling in his irritation. It’s all in good fun. You don’t always mess with him—contrary to popular belief, Ryo Kiritani is indeed capable of sulking—but the impulse to be a brat with him is constantly there. Your penchant for getting a rise out of him is just hard to ignore.

The market is as vibrant as ever, full of locals and tourists alike as people happily chatter in the cheery atmosphere. Bags of snacks and souvenirs hang from your wrists as you take another sip of your drink, satisfying your earlier craving for something sweet.

A mischievous smile crawls to your lips. You turn to him with enthusiasm, eyes practically twinkling in joy as you lean in closer, holding in the chuckles threatening to leave you.

“Ryo, let’s go to the photo booth.”

He stops scrolling on his phone, meeting your gaze with a look of annoyance and disbelief. “What did you call me?”

“Ryo,” you say, acting confused as to why he was asking something so obvious. “You know, your name.”

He sighs heavily and brings his hand up to your face before squishing your cheeks together, making you squeak. He clicks his tongue, frowning at the way you found a way to push his buttons so easily. You lightly swat his hand in response, unable to stop the way your laughter just pours out of your lips. Whatever he’d been looking at on his phone is long forgotten—you have his full attention now.

“Let go!”

“No.”

You’re wholly delighted.

“Ryo, let go.”

He scowls. “Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call you what?” you giggle. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Brat,” he hisses. There’s no actual vitriol in his words, just the typical affectionate exasperation. “You know.”

“No, I don’t.” Your smile grows even wider as his fingers dig into your cheeks, his frustration growing more evident with each passing second. Though very humoured by the situation, you finally relent. You’ve tested him enough. “Babe, I’m just kidding.”

Yoru narrows his eyes at you before letting go. He mutters something under his breath, presumably a complaint, and flicks you on the forehead, ignoring the show of pain you put on. It didn’t hurt. He never makes it hurt. You just like getting a reaction out of him. He’s endlessly so endearing and entertaining—it’s not your fault you want to see more of it!

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“You love me.”

He huffs. “Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately? You take that back right now!”

“It’s payback. You called me by the wrong name.”

“Babe!”

#all #scenarios #valorant x reader #cypher x reader #phoenix x reader #sova x reader #yoru x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago

Text

Sum of All 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You touch the seam of the skirt as you fidget in the passengers’ seat. The scene is starting to become all too familiar. You feel like some cursed sidekick to this man. Destined to count numbers you’re supposed to forget.

“You don’t like it?” Rogers asks as he grips the steering wheel tighter. He hasn’t offered much detail about your destination but whatever this is has him on edge. Is he ever not?

“Huh, no,” you smooth your hands over the dusted rose fabric. “It’s nice.”

“The lady at the store picked it. I don’t know,” he grumbles.

You almost want to laugh. Is he that worried about a dress? You admit, you prefer your separates, but it’s really nice. Sleek, elegant, refined. As long as it does the job...

That thought makes you squirm as you recall your unfortunate shower debacle. It isn’t the greatest start to your day and the night hardly set you up for success but all you can do is get through it. Wherever he’s taking you, whatever he wants you to do.

He draws up to a large golden gate with pointed orbs at the top of the steep poles. You lean forward to marvel at the mansion. It’s immaculate. Like a modern palace. You let out a ‘woah’.

“He does like to show off,” Rogers remarks.

“I mean, it’s pretty but a bit much,” you sit back, trying to play it cool.

The gate slides to one side at his approach. He’s expected. That jars you. It’s all so mysterious. And scary. You’re silent as he pulls through.

“You good? How are you feeling?” He checks as he comes to a stop before a finely curated row of hedges.

“Hm, oh, good, I’m feeling alright,” you assure him.

“Mm, let me know if you feel foggy.” He looks at you with concern. You’re starting to feel like a burden.

“I’m fine, promise. You don’t need to worry.”

“I can’t have you falling on your face with this one,” he girds.

“Oh, right, obviously not,” you agree.

He gives you a long look and gets out. You blink and undo your seat belt. You open the door and give a start as he appears behind it. He grips the top as you get out. He shuts it and gestures you toward the front steps of the house.

As you come to the curved stone, a figure emerges from the double doors at the top. Sleek, moving like a snake, sharp eyes narrowed at the man at your side as he smooths back his black tresses.

“Rogers,” he greets your escort. “He’s waiting.”

“I know,” Rogers replies. “Laufeyson.”

The snakish man turns without another word and passes through the doors. Rogers nudges your arm and you follow, keeping pace with him. You clutch your briefcase handle, your only comfort in that moment.

You continue across the large foyer and around the right side of the stairs. The man leads you to a door hidden behind it that blends right into the wall. The handle is camouflaged. He pulls the door open and waves you on.

Rogers points you ahead of him. You enter and he’s close behind, brushing close as you come into the study-like room. A blonde man, larger than even the one at your back, sits behind a big white desk. He toys with a little golden hammer, some sort of paper weight as his blue eyes flick up.

“Ah, there he is,” He drops the ornament with an unexpectedly heavy thunk. “Rogers, finally here!”

“Odinson,” Rogers greets, a glimmer of warmth in his voice.

“It has been too long,” the large man stands and strides around the desk. “And you have brought a beautiful woman!” He approaches you and grabs your hand, kissing it with gusto. “Ah, wonderful! I did hate to think of you coming all alone.”

“She’s here to do the numbers,” Rogers assures. “That’s all.”

“Of course, of course,” the other man, Odinson, nods as he turns to Rogers. “I was sorry to hear about Margaret.”

Rogers shifts, “Peggy made a decision.”

Peggy. That's the second mention of her. Whoever she is. You think you might have a good guess for it.

“Right, right, sour grapes,” he offers a hollow smile and turns his attention back to you. “Ah, but I do lose myself. Thor, my lady, and you?”

You look between him and Rogers. Your companion shrugs. You introduce yourself.

“You have come far. You must be tired,” he says to both of you as he extends his arm wide. “We might hold off on business and first break bread. I have missed you, old friend.”

Thor claps Rogers’ shoulder. He’s the only person who’s ever made the mafioso look small. You watch quietly. You feel like an intruder.

“Sure, sounds good,” Rogers agrees.

“Oh, but first, I do forget myself. I will show you to your room. I was unaware of your company,” Thor says. “My woman was preparing just for you.”

He gestures you back into the hallway. You go first as Rogers waits. He follows and your host comes third. You glance back for direction.

“Just up the stairs,” Thor explains.

You obediently proceed along that path, climbing cautiously. You come to the top and admire the golden sconces along the wall. The whole place is ornate and extravagant.

Thor comes up past you and guides you along to a door. He taps it with his knuckles, “Rogers. I can have another set aside for the... accountant?”

“I have my CPA,” you say. “Uh, yeah.”

Thor chuckles and Steve breathes heavily through his nose, “if it’s too much trouble.”

“No trouble is too much for you,” Thor assures. “I hope we can come to happy agreement. I would hate you to come so far for anything other than that.”

“Well, it has been a long trip,” Rogers agrees.

“Let me give her the tour and you can settle in,” Thor insists. “I should show her the pool before my woman sinks her claws in.”

“You married?” Rogers asks.

“Working on it,” Thor answers and gently touches your arm. The movement catches Rogers’ eye. “They might amuse each other in your time here.”

“Hm, maybe,” Rogers crosses his arms. “I’ll get my bag.”

“You might request some brandy from the maid as well,” Thor snickers. “Take off the edge, Rogers. I’ve never seen you wound so tight.” He slides his arm under yours, “oh, and I didn’t mention, the beard... looks good on you.” Thor turns and points you in the other direction, “come, you will want to see the balcony.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #sum of all #mob au #au #avengers #mcu #marvel #captain america

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03jyh23 · 1 year ago

Text

— moonlit promises || park seonghwa

idol!seonghwa x non-idol!reader

synopsis: you just miss your fiancé

genre: fluff

trigger warnings: none

words: 1.3 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! this was written for my best friend when she was having a bad day. "moonlit promises" was personalized to suit her so i decided to post only a short part of the original work. since i posted a lot of angst lately, i think it's a good time to post this short fluff.

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

taglist: @hoeforalbedo (if you'd like to join my taglist you can just let me know here!)

You sat by the window, the soft glow of the moon casting a gentle light across your small room. It was late, and the world outside was quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

You hold your engagement ring delicately between your fingertips, and you can’t help but marvel at its beauty. The ring glimmers in the soft light, its facets catching the light in a mesmerizing dance of sparkle and shine. The centerpiece, a brilliant diamond, seems to hold a universe of its own within its depths, reflecting the love and commitment shared between Seonghwa and you. You trace the intricate patterns of the band, feeling the smooth metal against your skin. Each curve and twist seems to tell a story of your journey together, from the moment you first met to the promise of forever that now lies before you. The ring feels like a tangible symbol of your love, a constant reminder of the bond you share and the future you are building together.

As you gaze at the ring, you feel a swell of emotion wash over you. It's more than just a piece of jewelry; it's a promise, a vow, a testament to the depth of your love and the commitment you have made to each other. And as you slip the ring onto your finger, you know you won't be able to resist calling your fiancé.

With your phone in hand, you dialled Seonghwa's number, heart fluttering with anticipation as it rang, hoping that he would have a minute or two to talk.

"Hey, love," Seonghwa's voice greeted you, warm and comforting despite the miles between you.

"Hi, Seonghwa," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd call you."

"Ah, I'm glad you did, we already finished our rehearsals for today," Seonghwa said softly. "Did the stars made you think about me again?" he asked, his voice carrying a soft smile that you could hear.

"Yeah..." You admitted shyly "I miss you a lot, especially on nights like these when the stars are out and shining so brightly. Nights like these always reminds me of you, but even though they shine brightly, they just don't seem as magical without you by my side."

"I miss you too, baby," Seonghwa whispered "But talking to you makes it feel like you're right here with me." Your heart swelled at his words, your gaze drifting to the sky outside once again. When you look up at the stars, you feel a deep connection to your fiancé, even across the miles that separate you. The stars serve as a reminder of your love and the special bond you two share, it’s like the stars are strengthening your connection despite the physical distance. You sighed softly; voice tinged with longing as you spoke to Seonghwa through the phone.

"I wish you could be here, holding me in your arms," you murmured, as you wrapped the blanked around you, your words carried the weight of your separation. "The hoodies you left... they've lost your smell already." There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Seonghwa replied, his voice filled with empathy.

"I know, love. Next time I will spray all of them with my perfume twice as much." He laughed softly before continuing "I miss holding you close, feeling your warmth against me. I miss your eyes. But even though I'm not there physically, know that my love for you hasn't faded, not even a little bit." you closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek as you listened to Seonghwa's words.

"I know," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "And I hold onto that." Seonghwa's heart ached at the sadness in your voice, wishing more than anything that he could be there to comfort you.

"I promise, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with determination, "One day soon, I'll hold you in my arms again." you smiled through tears, feeling a glimmer of hope within your chest.

"You better keep that promise, Park Seonghwa" you replied playfully, voice warmer than before. "Until then, I'll cherish every moment we have together, even if it's just through late-night phone calls and memories of your scent."

You never blamed Seonghwa for living his life as an idol, truth be told, even after all these years in a relationship, you remained his fan, genuinely thrilled by his success. You knew that no one deserved success as much as ATEEZ. From his early days, you had been there for him, supporting him every step of the way. Yet on a night like this, the ache of missing him became overwhelming. You wished he was beside you.

"Speaking of stars," Seonghwa said, his voice taking on a playful tone, "did I ever tell you that you're my little star? Shining bright even in the darkest of nights." your cheeks flushed at his endearing words.

"You always know how to make me smile," you said, heart overflowing with love for him.

"And you always know how to make my heart skip a beat," Seonghwa replied, his affection evident in every word. As you continued to talk, your laughter mingling with the gentle night sounds, you couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like these, when distance seemed to fade away and your love shone brighter than any star in the sky.

"I love you, Y/N," Seonghwa's voice came through the phone, gentle and sincere, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. "And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you" Your breath caught in your throat at his declaration, your heart swelling with love for him.

"And I can’t wait to marry you," It’s been four years since you started dating, one year into being engaged, but you never got used to hearing those three words from Seonghwa. "I love you too, Seonghwa," you whispered, voice filled with emotion. You lingered in silence for a moment, basking in the warmth of the love you shared, before Seonghwa spoke again, his voice soft and soothing.

"You should go to sleep, my love," he said tenderly. "What time is it there like... 3 am?" your eyes fluttered open at Seonghwa's words, a small smile playing on your lips as you glanced at the clock beside your bed.

"Almost, I’m amazed that you know," you replied softly, "It's actually 2:40 am." Seonghwa sighed on the other end of the line, the frustration evident in his tone.

"I hate these time zones," he admitted, his voice tinged with longing. "I wish I could be there to tuck you in and cuddle you close." Your heart ached at his words; your own longing mirrored in his. "But I guess tonight you will have to settle for my hoodie,"

"I wish you could be here too," you whispered, voice filled with sadness, "But knowing that you're thinking of me, even from miles away, is enough to keep me warm." Seonghwa's response was immediate, his voice filled with love and reassurance.

"I'll always be thinking of you, baby," he said softly. "No matter the distance." You felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that even in the darkness of night, Seonghwa's love would always light the way.

Seonghwa's voice continued to fill the quiet of the night, a steady rhythm that lulled you deeper into sleep. His words were like whispered promises, wrapping around you.

"Sleep well, my darling," Seonghwa murmured, his voice soft and affectionate. "Dream of us, together under the stars, where distance cannot separate our hearts." You smiled, your dreams already filled with visions of Seonghwa's warm smile and the promise of your future together. With his voice as your anchor, you surrendered to the peaceful embrace of sleep, knowing that no matter the distance, your love would always bring you back to each other. And as you drifted off to sleep, Seonghwa's voice remained with you, a constant presence in the darkness, guiding you through the night until the dawn of a new day.

#ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez x y/n #ateez fanfic #ateez x you #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x you

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be-compromised · 1 year ago

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Promptathon 2024

Hi All, welcome to the 2024 edition of the annual be_compromised epic summer promptathon!

Been wanting to jump into the fandom but not sure where to start? Now’s the time. Newbie or a lurker? Here’s the perfect opportunity to say hello! Not been active in the fandom for a while? Welcome back. Promptathon is a fun, no-pressure environment where you can post zero to as many prompts as you like, zero to as many fills as you like, and join in the squee or just quietly enjoy the fun.

We’re a Clintasha (Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff) community that welcomes ALL THINGS MARVEL. We’d like Clint and/or Natasha to show up in prompt fills somewhere, but what that means is up to you - individually or as friends, lovers, spouses, partners, gen fic, ANYTHING. Yes, that means we also welcome other characters and pairings (and threesomes or moresomes.)

If that sounds like the kind of party you’d like to join, please read on for the event timeline, how to leave prompts and fills, and a few rules to make sure everyone has a fun time.

TIMELINE

TODAY: Prompting starts! GO, GO, GO MONDAY 5 AUGUST: Now is when you can start leaving fills for prompts! (You can also keep prompting) MIDNIGHT SUNDAY 29 SEPTEMBER: Promptathon, both prompts and fills, ends at midnight in whatever your timezone is.

A masterlist will be posted shortly after the event ends, on Dreamwidth and tumblr.

HOW PROMPTATHON 2024 WORKS

Promptathon takes place on Dreamwidth, but you do not need an account to prompt, fill, or join in. Anonymous comments are enabled; if you comment anonymously please consider including your online handle(s) in your comment so we know who you are and can credit you!

LEAVING PROMPTS

Please post each prompt in a separate comment to this post.

Prompts can be anything – simple or elaborate, words or pictures, songs or poems, lyrics or phrases, anything that could inspire a fanwork. Use your imagination. Go wild! You can also re-use prompts from previous events, whether they were filled or not.

You can leave as many prompts as you want. We’re serious. Keep coming back. We want as many prompts as we can possibly get.

Please put a spoiler warning at the start of your prompt if it contains spoilers/speculation relating to any Marvel films/tv shows released in the last six months.

SUBMITTING FILLS

Comment in a reply to the prompt that you are filling.

The subject line of your comment should be: ‘FILL: title, rating.’

You can then post your entire fanwork in the comment if it’s short enough AND/OR you can post your fanwork anywhere else on the internet and post a link to it in your comment.

Your comment must also include: > Title > Rating (ie film ratings or AO3 style ratings) > Any warnings OR you can say ‘choose not to warn’ (think about the AO3 warnings or take a look at our comm guidance if you’re stuck) > A spoiler warning if your fill contains spoilers/speculation relating to any Marvel films/tv shows released in the last six months. (Not everyone has Disney+/can get to the cinema.)

Following these guidelines 1) makes it easier for people to find your fills during the event as a one-stop shop, and know what they’re clicking on and 2) makes it a LOT easier for your mods to create a masterlist at the end, without missing any of your fills. Thank you!

If you’re posting your fill elsewhere, consider including a teaser to catch people’s attention! If you’re posting on AO3, we have a ‘Community: be_compromised’ tag and a promptathon collection available if you like those sorts of things. If you’re posting on tumblr, let us know or tag it with ‘clintasha’ so we can find it and reblog on the be_compromised tumblr. We want people to be able to find and appreciate your fills <3

There’s no length requirement on fanworks submitted. You can create drabbles or epics, vids, art, fanmixes, anything at all; it’s just all about getting creative! Fills do not have to be complete or completed during the promptathon. You can fill as many prompts as you want, and prompts can be filled multiple times by whoever wants to fill them. You can fill more than one prompt in one fill, or make a series out of fills for various prompts. Zero pressure; all fun.

QUESTIONS AND SQUEE

We have a general thread for comments, questions, and general chat as the first comment thread in this post. We welcome reactions, discussion, and cheerleading in replies to prompts and fills. (This is where posting each prompt separately and labelling the subject line of fills helps to keep things organised.) We also have a be_compromised discord server if you prefer a chatroom-style space. (Although as above, all prompts and fills will be in this post as a one-stop shop.) Commenting, cheerleading, and enthusiasm is a huge part of fandom and you are very welcome to join in! Yes, even if you don’t post any prompts or fills.

GENERAL RULES

Our Community Rules apply to this event. To summarise: > No character or ship bashing. This is a positive fandom space. > No plagiarism, or use of AI please - we want to see what YOU create. > Please no RPF (Real Person Fanfiction) or any gossip/speculation about actors’ off-screen non-work lives, as the primary focus of this community is fictional characters. > Please include a rating for fanworks and a warning OR ‘choose not to warn’. > Be kind and have fun!

If you have any questions about anything please feel free to ask! The easiest way is to use the questions thread, which is in the first comment to this post, or ask on the Discord server (‘general’ thread). Your mods are inkvoices, CloudAtlas, and gsparkle.

OKAY THEN , LET’S GET PROMPTING!

#be_compromised #promptathon 2024 #long post #promptathon #all fanworks welcome #clint barton #natasha romanoff #hawkeye #black widow #clintasha #prompts

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beabaseball · 2 years ago

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I think that... instead of changing our home dashes or making for you pages, Tumblr should add a function that is like reblogs but call it "zeitgeist." And you click it like a reblog, and it goes into the zeitgeist.

The zeitgeist is a separate dashboard that just is everything that was put into it, so it'll be a whole new hoard of posts from every active corner of tumblr every time you refresh. Whenever you're bored just tap into the zeitgeist. People will put stuff there like 37 times and you'll still have posts between them it'll be great (or it can be the only place with mandatory shortened posts, to prevent Color Of The Sky spamming, but only shortened posts, none of this "last few comments" thing. If you want to have embedded comments, have them in the replies so I can have a conversation without @ing them and digging for the last reply because it's functionally unusable if too many people engage)

Anyway.

create the zeitgeist you wish to see in the world.

#i am submitting this for peer review #tumblr update #tumblr algorithm #beatext

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bluestar22x · 11 days ago

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Couch

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (slightly older than Joel)

Other Major Characters: Tommy Miller, Maria, Ellie Williams

Chapter Summary: With time, you and Joel grow close

Word Count: 3,640(ish)

Rating: 18+ Series

Warnings: Smut, oral, piv, fluff, fowl language

Author’s Note: Please don’t reblog choice posts such as this one! Please reblog main chapters instead. You can comment and like, but I’m trying to keep the choice posts off the dashboards as much as possible so not to spoil the surprises and sway people’s decisions. ;)

xxx

"My couch," you reply, taking his hand in yours again and guiding him surely through the darkness of your mudroom towards the living room to your right. Your skin is hot even though it is cool in your house and your free hand is trembling slightly, this time from excitement.

You don't stop, don't look back until your kneecaps are brushing against the couch.

When you release his hand and turn around Joel is right behind you, face half cast in the moonlight shining through a crack in the bay window's curtains. You smile softly at him, almost shyly, and he smiles back assuringly before raising one of his hands to grab your chin and gently kiss you.

It's not long before the kiss becomes something else entirely, something wild, feverish. Joel gathers you into his arms, almost crushing you to his chest, and a thrill courses through you.

This is actually happening.

In a smooth move you probably will not be able to duplicate ever again, you separate from him to yank your peach colored t-shirt over your head and drop it haphazardly onto the floor without letting your eyes wander from Joel's.

His, however, do stray - to your bare shoulders, to your chest and your lace lined black bra. It's not wired; it doesn't shape your breasts into something they no longer are, but it's probably for the best, considering how brief it is before his fingers travel to your spine and fumble with the clips at the back of the bra. He gets it after a few tries without your assistance and frees you from the fabric then takes a sharp breath as he studies your completely bared upper body. It's clear that he doesn't care that your breasts aren't perky, that he's just grateful you're allowing him to look at you; to undress you. He's not looking for anything you can't provide.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful." The comment is completely genuine. You can tell from the strain in his voice, the dilation of his pupils you can see even in the dim light of the night.

Confidence boosted, heart soaring, you grin at him and reach for the top button of his shirt, unfastening it slowly. "Can't let you have all the fun."

He grunts an agreement and helps you unmake the rest, shrugging it off his shoulders after. The t-shirt underneath is quickly removed by him as well and your eyes feast on the sight before you. Joel is a gorgeous kind of beefy, his chest and arms strong, his belly soft. A thin layer of hair covers most of his front, getting thicker towards the topline of his jeans, and seeing it makes your heart race.

You unbuckle Joel's belt and tug it out of the loops of his pants in record time, dropping it beside your feet, the belt buckle clunking on your wooden flooring.

He cocks an eyebrow at your haste, but when you unbutton his jeans, he does the same to yours with equal zeal. You remove your underwear and jeans at the same time as him and fall back on the couch as you both rid yourselves of your socks after, just before he steps forward and crawls onto the couch to hover over you.

You think you can hear one of his knees pop as he does so, but he's unfazed by it; too captivated by you to care, if not used to it.

You meet his intense gaze with your own and allow yourself to touch his chest, to trace it and run your hands over the balls of his shoulders before splaying them out on his upper back as you open up for him and spread your thighs as wide as you can, inviting him into the space you've just made for him.

He drops his head to enclose your right nipple in his warm mouth and sucks as he takes the offer, slipping between your legs, using his elbows to prop himself up and keep his weight off you.

A groan escapes him almost at the exact same time as the moan that leaves you, as pleased to taste your peak as you are to feel his lips around it. You arch into his mouth and he frees a hand from your waist to curve over your stomach as he switches to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

His hand starts to slide lower down your body and he parts his mouth from your breasts to peer up at you.

"Would it be alright if I put my mouth on you?"

Your mouth goes dry at the unexpected question. You've never had a man ask you that particular one the first time you slept together. You feel like you should be uncertain about it, but you're not. Being so vulnerable with Joel is new, but you've known him for long enough to trust him and now that he's mentioned it you can't imagine saying no to him.

You beam up at him and thrust your hips towards Joel eagerly, desperately wanting to know what it feels like with him.

He raises an eyebrow at that, looking amused. "Is that a yes?" He chuckles softly before you even nod to confirm it.

"Yes. Please. Joel."

You close your eyes as he slowly works his way down your body, building the anticipation, teeth scraping along your neck, tongue laving at your chest, lips peppering feathery kisses to your belly and thighs before he finally ducks his head down to drag his tongue through your folds.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body and you cry out at the suddenness of it. You desperately dig your nails into the fabric of the couch to cope, tilt your pelvis to give him better access, and he devours you.

He isn't the most precise lover you've ever had, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm and attentiveness. When you take in a sharp breath and tense after he hits a particularly sensitive spot, he makes note of it, repeats the motions he did to get there, movements that get smoother every time he does them.

You rake your fingers through the short silvery curls on his head and twist on the strands when he plunges his tongue into you, and he in turn tightens the grip he has on your thighs.

"Fuck, Joel," you whine as you writhe in place, overwhelmed by how good it feels. "Like that. More. Oh!"

He doesn't need any true verbal pointers, but your words do encourage him to go all in, to be more firm with you, to suck on your bud more passionately. Your climax builds fast and all real thought abandons your mind; a true blessing. You've learned from past experience that for this to work at your age, for the pleasure to consume you, you can't think about it too much, and that mindlessness helps more than anything else ever has with your ever changing body.

When Joel sees that you are close to tipping over the edge, he curls one, two, then three fingers inside you and just like that you fall with a gasp; a pleasant heat flooding your entire body as you do, fully relaxing you.

You'd been dry when he first started working on you, but due to his assiduity you're now soaked, entirely ready for him. It's all you can think about as you lay there sucking in quick breaths, as your heart pounds in your chest. All you want is him inside you. And you don't want to imagine it any longer when he's right there.

You lift your head to crush your mouth against Joel's when he positions himself back over you, and he responds immediately, cupping both sides of your face to keep you there for longer.

Your heart is still beating wildly in your chest when you grind your hips purposely against his to feel the way he is thickening against the skin of your thigh, and he groans again.

"Shit, you might just be the death of me," he mutters.

You chuckle as you reach down to stroke his length and he presses his forehead to the center of your chest, groaning loudly as you do so.

"Might?"

"Fuck."

You grin proudly at the way he hisses the word out, and begin to work him faster, not slowing until he's hard and as equally ready for you.

"You sure about this, honey?" he inquires, giving you one last chance to change your mind.

"Never been more sure," you promise him, releasing his cock to push your hand against his chest firmly, wordlessly directing him into a sit.

He's briefly confused by your action but it dawns on him that you want to take control, and he gladly gives it to you.

He sits so that he is leaning against the back of the couch and you stand so you can get down on your knees more easily and straddle his hips.

He takes hold of your waist firmly to help you keep your balance and watches with wonder in his eyes as you palm his cock and with a cant of your hips steadily drop down onto him, sheathing him entirely within you.

You both moan as you settle on top of him, and you squeeze your eyes shut to relish the feeling of fullness having him this way brings you. It's been too long since you were with anyone like this.

When you open your eyes again you find Joel's staring back into yours, intimately, a vulnerability in them that almost breaks you.

You quickly kiss the heart shaped bare patch in his beard as you wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close. At the same time his hands wander up the curve of your back to cradle you more securely, and once they are in place you start moving slowly up and down on him, making sure you can feel every inch of him along the way. It's the best feeling you've had in ages. The drag of his cock inside you steals your breath and makes you groan. It makes you forget where you are, where you've been. It like you are in your own little world, where only you and Joel exist.

You bury your hands into his hair again and he grunts as your nails scratch at his scalp, as you bend your head to kiss him deeply. Every noise he makes is like music to your ears, urging you to keep going, to keep ignoring the ache in your knees that you get every time you are on them for more than a few seconds.

You soon pick up speed, rolling your hips towards him as he begins to rut up into you, and it's just enough for you to both break out in a sweat, for your moans and groans to grow longer, louder.

You want it to last for hours, but your body has other plans, blindsighting you with your orgasm, sending you into a pitch forward against Joel's chest as you convulse around him.

You cling tightly to him by his shoulders as you come down, and bliss consumes you, clouds your mind in a haze as you continue to move your hips, not ready to be done quite yet.

"Want you to come inside me," you confess in his ear, voice low and thick.

He nods, grunts an affirmative, and yanks you down on him by the shoulders suddenly, causing you to lose your breath and clench hard around him.

It's then that he unravels, giving you what you want, jaw tight as he groans lowly into the crook of your neck and pulses inside you. You hold him close as it overtakes him and try to commit the moment to memory. You never want to forget this; whatever the future may bring. You know this world is too uncertain; too dark to not fully appreciate memories like this. Even in a place as safe as Jackson.

Afterwards you tug your couch blanket off one of its arms and cover both you and Joel with it before resting your head on his thigh. You gaze up at him, studying his handsome face, and he smiles down at you fondly, kisses each of your fingertips, simple acts of affection that speak louder than words ever could.

It's too early to put a label on what you are now to each other, but the moment feels profound. Like it's the beginning of something special.

Some time later, as you're about to doze off, Joel checks his watch and sighs. "It's getting late; I should go," he whispers before kissing your forehead lightly and caressing your arm. "Ellie will be worried if I'm not home when she wakes in the morning."

You want to protest, to suggest that he at least stay until sunrise, but you decide it best to respect his decision, to let him go. Your relationship is all too new after all. You haven't even had a proper date yet, whatever that would look like in the apocalypse. You don't want to overstep; to pressure him into anything he might not want yet. And you refuse to act like a clingy or jealous girlfriend. Wherever your relationship ends up, there would be no time where you would ever insist he stay with you instead of being there for Ellie.

"Okay," you respond, trying to make the word sound light.

"Meet me at the Bison tomorrow night at seven?" he questions as he stands up, and you break out into a warm smile. You love that he's already forming a plan to see you again.

"Of course."

"I know it's not the most romantic place for a date..."

Your smile broadens at his concern. "You don't need to worry, Joel. You've clocked me right. I'm not the kind of girl who needs a fancy restaurant and a millionaire in a suit."

He laughs. "That's good, cause Jackson doesn't have either of those currently."

"Damn shame." You kneel to kiss him one last time on the lips, then fall back onto the couch. "Go on. Go get some sleep."

Joel nods. "You too."

He doesn't say goodbye, and you don't expect him to. You close your eyes as he walks away from the couch and inhale the scent he's left behind on your throw blanket.

You end up falling asleep to it.

There are many dates between you and Joel in the following weeks, some planned by him and some by you. You're inventive about it, about how you hide it being a date; neither of you ready to expose your newfound relationship to the rest of the town.

Jeanine knows, you tell her a lot of the details, of what you talk about, of where you go, and Tommy knows, because of the conversation you'd with him in the mess hall, and because he's observant. It's not even a day before he approaches you and gets you to admit it, because Joel happened to be in a 'real good mood' on patrol that day.

Maria might know because of him, but you aren't sure, you haven't asked. You are sure nobody else knows, though you're also sure there is some suspicion, some rumors floating around. Jeanine for once hasn't heard anything, probably cause everyone else knows she is your best friend, but more than once you have seen people stop mid conversation just because you stepped into a room.

You don't concern yourself with it, too busy daydreaming about the previous or upcoming date. There were a few at the Tipsy Bison but after that Joel seemed determined to mix things up, having you over at his house whenever Ellie was out late with friends, spending time with you while you cleaned the stables, sitting next to you on movie nights. He'd even asked Tommy to set up some patrols so that you were scheduled for it at the same time he was.

It was on one of those patrols closely boarding the walls of Jackson, that Joel brought it up, back when your relationship was still very fresh, barely two weeks old.

"I won't be able to go watch you sing tomorrow night," he tells you.

"Oh, why?" you inquire curiously.

"Ellie's sixteenth birthday's in a few days and I need to get ready for it," he explains. "You know how she loves space and dinosaurs?"

"Yeah." Ellie barely goes a day without talking about one or another. It is endearing. She reminds you of you and your passion for horses, which she seems to also share with you. She hung out around the stables a lot, especially after Shimmer, the chestnut filly she had demanded to be assigned to her, had begun to be trained to saddle. You'd seen her ride the young horse a few times since then, and Ellie looked like a natural on her. Their partnership rivaled yours with June.

"Well, I found a museum not too far from here, less than a day's hike, and it's got both, can you believe it?" Joel asks incredulously. "I wanna take her there on her birthday, but I've got to clear it out, make sure it's safe, and repair a few things first."

"That's amazing," you say wholeheartedly. "However big or small it is, I'm sure she's going to love it."

"I hope so."

You give him a look. "She will. Ellie's a lot of things but ungrateful is not one of them."

"Would you like to come with us?" he offers.

You shake your head. "Her birthday is not the time to reveal our relationship to Ellie. Visiting the museum is something you should do alone with her anyway. It'll be more special if it's just you and her."

He nods and returns to focusing on the path ahead of your horses.

"But, I do have a solution for tomorrow," you declare.

His head swivels in your direction again, curious.

"I could help you clear the museum," you suggest. "Two sets of hands are better than one, and bonus, we will get to spend some time together. You might even make it to my show."

He grins at you then. "That sounds perfect. I'd greatly appreciate the help and it won't feel like work if you're there."

"No need to thank me," you say, "I'm doing it for Ellie and me. Just promise me you won't tell her that I assisted. I don't want the credit."

"I promise."

Your work date at the museum with Joel goes smoothly and so does his trip to it with Ellie. You catch sight of them dismounting their horses at the front of the stable as the sun is setting on her birthday, and even from a distance you can tell she is flying high, so excited she's barely keeping in her skin.

While you'd insisted Joel spend Ellie's birthday just with her, you start accepting more and more offers from him to hang out with them, whether at the movies or at their house on a game night. Sometimes he even invited you over for supper and sometimes you invited them. There was always an excuse of course. The game plays better with 3. The recipe makes too much for just one or two people.

You know Ellie's too smart not to figure out what's actually going on but she doesn't say anything, and you don't ask.

You eventually get your answer in October.

It's the third Tuesday of the month and you wake up to a chill in the air that can only mean one thing - your heating system has failed sometime during the night. Again.

Joel is one of the few guys in town who knows a little about a lot of things when it comes to doing repairs on homes, so you naturally stroll over to his house to ask him if he can fix it for what is probably the tenth time this year.

"Think it's going to need a little more than just a repair," Joel tells you after you explain the situation to him while standing in the middle of his kitchen. "Last one was temporary. There's no other fixes to be made that I know of. We're going to have to find you a replacement."

You deflate at his conclusion. "That might take ages. I'm going to freeze."

"You could ask Jeanine if you can stay a while," he suggests.

You sigh. "She's already got a roommate and their house is small. I'd hate to bother them."

"Or you could just stay here," Ellie says from her spot at the table behind you.

Both your head and Joel's snap in her direction, mouths slightly ajar at her proposal.

She rolls her eyes. "Why not? You're here all the time anyway. You're dating. It makes the most sense, doesn't it?"

Busted.

"Stop looking so shocked," she huffs. "The whole town knows. You haven't exactly been subtitle, you know, even though you both clearly think you have been. Which is cool. Wish you would've just told me, but whatever. Just spare me the details, okay?"

You and Joel don't react, both unsure of what to say.

She takes a huge bite out of the green apple in her hand and heads for the door. "You’re making this really fuckin’ weird guys," she mutters. "I'm going over to Cat's."

She ambles out the front door and you and Joel immediately relax.

"That went better than I expected," he eventually admits.

"Guess that means I should consider her offer," you say, side-eying him.

He shakes his head. "Our offer. Do you wanna move in with us?"

It only takes an instant before you're beaming joyfully at him.

"Thought you'd never ask."

…

Next: Chapter 2 - The Lie

Current Chapter: Can't Help Falling In Love

…

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