#only serious robot hours

[cherryxbooo]

Not the same anymore

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

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

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

f1gossippofficial

Liked by formula1_news, f1_wags and others

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

View all comments

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

lalalandlando4 He deserved better anyways 🤷‍♀️

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

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

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

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

4everf1loca NOOOOO my sheilaaaaa 😭

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I continued, my words raw.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

f1gossippofficial

Liked by formula1_news, wagscloset, formula1_gossips and others

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

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

lvr4lan Noooo Lando honey this isn't you run!

wagslov4 Did he pick you yet ? 🙄

bbpiastri81 What the hell is going on

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

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

momolew16 Forreal the girl didn't ask for this

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

mayyoushush8 Did she tell you that 🤨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The end

[rachalixie]

can’t get you off my mind

all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 4k

it starts at a bar. 

or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.

but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 

“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 

“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”

you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 

“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”

“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”

“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 

he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.

–

he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 

a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 

the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 

your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 

another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 

“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”

“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?

“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”

the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 

by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.

changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 

“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 

“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”

“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”

“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”

“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 

“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 

“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”

“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”

“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”

the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 

— 

he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 

god, is everything about this man endearing? 

he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 

he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 

“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 

“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 

four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 

“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”

“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 

“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 

“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”

“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”

he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 

it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 

“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”

he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 

“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 

“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”

“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”

“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 

“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 

“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”

you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 

–

your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 

you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 

you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 

you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 

“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”

it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold

onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 

“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 

“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 

“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 

chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 

“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”

“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 

—

your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 

chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”

“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 

“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 

“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 

“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 

“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”

you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 

he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 

as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 

the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 

you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 

you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

—

your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 

he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 

he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 

you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 

he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 

“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”

“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 

“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”

he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 

“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”

“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”

he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.

“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 

“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”

[luvrodite]

ᯓ★ ONE. OCTOBER 1 | FUCK OR DIE

GOT ME CALLING OUT FOR HELP (S-O-S) [3.8k]

in retrospect, it was only a matter of time before you got hit. you should consider yourself lucky — there are worse fates than being fucked like your life depends on it (it’s gotham. of course it does) or: you get hit and jason deals with the fallout

content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent due to intoxication, chemical aphrodisiac, established relationship, dry humping, fingering, penetrative sex, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, prevention of pulling out.

ⓘ minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked!

<< kinktober masterlist | week 2 >>

It goes like this:

On a monday evening, Pamela fucking Isley decides to take her quarrel with Gotham's newest weapons company – God, could they fucking give it a break? B had only busted the last one a few weeks ago before they'd brought the city down on everyone – to new heights.

Jason's sitting in traffic with a bag of groceries slung around the handle of his bike when he gets the call. He's eager to beat you home, ready to make you dinner and heavily intent on wining and dining you after a long weekend of missing each other.

His fingers tap against his thighs impatiently, impatience sitting beneath his skin like an itch. Spikes of activity during the week had meant his plans for Friday night – dinner and a deserved night off – had been pushed to the backburner. He'd returned home in the early stillness of dawn, unable to get more than a couple of hours with you before your phone had rung, a friend's emergency pulling you out of bed with an apologetic grimace and a promise to reschedule your date night.

The headset in his ear notifies him of an incoming call, the syllables of your name dulled by the clinical, robotic voice of his phone's intelligence system. His mouth curves up into a smile beneath his helmet.

"Hi, baby," he answers immediately. "I'm on my way home, you need anything? I just left the store but I can go back–"

You cut him off in a tight voice. Later, he'll be ashamed that the first thing that comes to mind is, not another fucking postponement. Now, his brows furrow at your tone, stomach dipping uncertainly when it becomes clear that this is something more serious.

Your voice wobbles, high-pitched and tearful. At the same time, the dash on his bike begins to flash in rapid succession, the paging system he'd installed for the bats to communicate with him glaring back at him, blood red.

ORACLE: CHEMICAL LEAK DOWNTOWN. BATS + R.ROBIN EN ROUTE. ALL UNITS STANDBY.

His dread plummets and for a moment his throat closes over. You're speaking to him but he struggles to make it out through the ringing in his ears.

"Jason, I'm – I'm home but I don't – I don't know what to do."

He bites back a curse and tries to swallow the lump in his throat, grappling for words of comfort.

"It's okay," he soothes, straining to keep his voice level. "Listen, sweetheart, can you go lock the door for me? I'm – shit – I'll be home soon, alright? It'll be okay. We'll fix it."

He doesn't give himself time to linger on the call after you confirm you've locked it, barking out a command to dial Oracle that his system fails to pick up twice, only registering after he steadies himself.

She picks up on the third ring. It irritates him how unfazed she sounds when he explains the situation to her. He hears the click of her keyboard in the background, the hum of her monitors. Each passing second as she patches through to Nightwing is agony and the slow crawl of traffic does little to help.

His leg has begun to jostle the bike with the weight of its shaking when she returns to their call.

"You're not going to like this," she says and he feels the bile rising in his throat.

"What." He grits it out through his teeth, unable to manage much more than that. He hears Oracle sigh.

"Looks like an aphrodisiac," she says clinically. "Her plan was to get them caught compromised enough to lose credit publicly."

"Oracle." She hears his growl for what it is – Tell me whether or not it's over.

"It's non-lethal," she affirms and he sighs harshly. The tightness in his chest loosens ever so slightly as she talks. "Ivy let it off near city hall because most of the shareholders were scheduled to hold a meeting – that's where your girl works, right? Alf's working on an antidote but she should be relatively fine until it's ready. Just – keep an eye on her."

Tim joins the line then and Jason startles at the sound of his voice in his ear.

"I don't know what the fuck she wanted to achieve," the boy grumbles. He's a little out of breath and in any other situation, Jason would have something to say about that. Tonight, he's not in the mood for jokes.

"Red," he barks out. The kid makes a distracted noise, and he can hear the sounds of a scuffle on the other end. "You tell Ivy if anything happens to my girl, I'll make sure she's next."

He doesn't wait to hear what's sure to be a non-committal answer at best, kicking off and veering between the lined up vehicles. There's an outroar from the drivers around him, laying on their car horns. Someone pokes their head out of their window to scream at him.

He hears none of it, the blood rushing in his ears keeping him single-minded.

This string that twines him to you isn't new. It wears signs of age, shows the years in the way his fingers reach for yours in the early moments of his day, the turn of your eyes to his in any room. He's seen a few summers with you at his side but the fear –

Blood, coagulating, the cold brush of death, splintered wood beneath nails and a haunting smile

– the fear never stagnates.

A bitter, resigned shard of him breathes out as he speeds through the streets. A veritable sword over his crown, this almost seems expected. Loathing colours the skyline and he, the fool, to think he could hold this one, precious, beloved thing unscathed.

He forgoes the groceries in his haste, leaving the bags in his haste to throw himself up the stairs and out of the parking garage. Pulse thundering in his ears, sweat coating his palms, he scrabbles with the key to your shared apartment.

The door flies open and a hand is grabbing him by the front of his shirt before he can slot it through the lock.

You, wild-eyed and frantic, pull him inside with a bitten off sob.

"Shh, shh, I'm here, come here."

He kicks the door shut, reaching behind him to flip the locks with one hand. The other curls you protectively to his chest, fingers splaying over your back. The sight of you calms him considerably and he chokes out a stuttered breath, the lump in his throat dissolving to give way for a flood of relief.

You're burning in his arms, the thin undershirt you've got on soaked through with sweat, face glowing with perspiration. Eyebrows knitted, you cling to him tighter and he finds himself making noises of comfort.

"Jason, I –"

"Shh. I know, honey, I know," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are tearful, salt spilling over lashes and rolling down your cheeks. "Come on, let's get you to lie down."

"No," you whine, pitching miserably as he shuffles the both of you towards your bedroom, face creasing with every movement. "Hurts."

"I know," he whispers, hating the way his voice cracks. His eyes burn painfully. "'ll get you a towel, alright?"

You're deposited on the bed and he makes a turn for the bathroom, wetting a cloth. When he enters the bedroom again you've pushed yourself up, kneeling on the bed. You've shed the pants you'd worn earlier, left now in only and undershirt and your underwear. His name falls from your lips pitifully and he steps forward, lips turning down into a commiserating frown.

You shy away from the cloth when he presses it against your forehead, letting out a hiss as it makes contact with your burning skin. He brings a hand to the nape of your neck and you seem to like that much better, sighing under his touch. Jason takes advantage of this to keep you in place, mopping the sweat off your face and neck, trying his best not to give into your dissatisfied squirming.

"I know, I'm an asshole," he mutters, when you cry out his name, displeasure making itself clear on your face. "Get better so you can yell at me for it, alright?"

"Don't wanna – yell at you," you mumble, wetting your lips as they part.

He clocks the dilation of your pupils a little too late and shakes his head adamantly, trying to draw back but you've got a hold of his shirt, pulling him forward. He catches himself with a hand agains the headboard, a knee pressing into the mattress beneath him.

You stare up at him, mouth turning down into a pained grimace.

"C'mon honey," he mutters, pleading, feeling his face flood with warmth. "Don't do this to me. Be good, you'll be alright, okay? Any minute they're gonna call and tell me Alf's got an antidote ready – shit, maybe we should just drive you there now -"

"No," you sob, face crumpling under the weight of your tears again, pushing up on your knees to fling your arms around his shoulders. The effort of the movement makes you stutter out a gasp and he's forced to band an arm around your waist to steady the both of you.

Your tears wet the skin of his neck, your body pressed flush against his. He becomes aware, regrettably, of the skin beneath his fingers, your undershirt having ridden up to expose the softness of your lower back.

"Please," you hiccup into his shoulder. "Please, Jason – Please."

He'll have to ask Oracle later if second-hand exposure to the toxin is supposed to have an effect on him. At the touch of your chest to his, he feels himself warm all over, mouth drying when you begin to keen, arching up into his touch in an effort to get him to do something.

"Fuck," he curses. "Fuck. Alright, just – come here."

He kicks his shoes off, the sneakers clattering against the floor, and crawls onto the bed properly. Sat up against the headboard, he meets your baleful gaze with a raised brow and reaches for you.

Jason shakes his head when you go to straddle his lap, maneuvering you against his chest until your back rests against it. You let out a whimper, displeased, but he shakes his head.

"This is all you're getting, alright? Just – it'll tide you over until they call."

He spreads your legs until they hang over his own, your thighs bracketing his and leaving you open. His blood thunders in his ears, hand trembling as he reaches it up to your mouth, fingers prodding at the soft plush of your lips.

Your tongue laves at his digits, a muffled moan trapped in the recesses of your throat. One of your hands curls around his wrist, the other perching against his thigh, nails curling against the fabric of his jeans. He can feel you shift against him, hips canting ever so slightly over his own.

Awful, wretched, lecherous, he stiffens under the movement, jeans tightening. His free hand wraps around you hip with the intent of pinning you in place and stopping you. Somehow, he finds himself guiding you back and forth instead.

You tip your head back against his shoulder, baring the soft line of your throat as you drool around his fingers. He can feel the wetness pooling around his knuckles, the softness of your ass against him, separated only by a few layers. If he cranes his neck, he'll probably find your panties sticky with your need. The thought alone makes his eyes flutter.

The room is blanketed in muffled whimpers, the whispers of rustling sheets and his shaky breaths. You've quietened down some since he'd gotten his fingers in your mouth, but the heat seems to have returned with a vengeance when you begin to fuss in his lap again. Your fingers dig into his thigh and you whine, tugging at his wrist in an effort to push his hand where you need it most.

He hushes you with a squeeze to your hip and tips your face to meet his. Bleary eyed, silvery tracks smattered across your cheeks, you're struggling to hold on. He lowers his mouth to yours, a chaste kiss that deepens when you part your lips to lick into his mouth.

"Jason, come on."

"No, don't take it off," he whispers when your hands make to tug your underwear off. You whine and he hushes you again, "Shh, I'm going to take care of you, be patient for me, alright?"

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and watches you shudder at the first swipe. Similarly affected, he feels himself twitch when his fingers make contact with the soft slickness of your flesh, gliding against silken folds.

"Oh," you sigh, sagging slightly into him.

"There you go." He presses a kiss to your sweaty temple, trying to pretend this is just another night together and he's being a loving boyfriend, that you're not delirious with want just because of the toxin running through your bloodstream. "That's my girl."

He presses gentle circles against you, closing his eyes and ghosting his mouth over the curve of your shoulder. The smell of sex is thick in the air, that heady musk and sweat that he could drown in. Your breaths come in pants now as he works you open gently, thumb rolling over your centre.

"Just like that," he rumbles, straining to keep his head on straight. It's difficult, when you arch against him, his name spilling from your lips in adoration coloured mewls. Your arm raises, curling behind you to embrace his neck.

It doesn't take you very long to come, pent up and sensitive – he discovers this when his hand grazes over your chest to stroke your face and you keen so loud he fears he'll come in his pants at the sound, your mouth, bitten raw, dropping open as you moan. A few strokes against your centre and you come apart in his arms, hard. The tremors wrack your body long after the fact, your core pulsing around his fingers.

He, ever the fool, expects this to sate your hunger.

Whatever Ivy's put in her newest concoction is potent. You gather your breath quick enough and it becomes apparent that just the one isn't nearly enough. He's pushed back against the headboard, stunned into silence as you clamber onto his thigh, pawing at him like you can't get close enough.

You struggle with the fabric of his shirt before giving up and any questions he has sputter off into silence when you begin to rock back and forth on him. The denim of his jeans is unforgiving against the thin, sodden material of your underwear, providing a harsh friction that you lose yourself to. He watches, his heart racing, you taking your pleasure for yourself.

It isn't as though you've never done this in front of him – he remembers, blurry, the aftermath of a dinner date that had seen you riding his thigh on the couch, still in your dress.

But this… This feels different.

There's an urgency to this, a franticness running beneath your skin that pushes your hips down harder, more unforgiving. Your face screws up, salt misting your cheeks and neck.

For a moment, Jason almost feels as though he's the one that's been hit. You take on a blurry quality, smudged around the edges like wet paint, wanton, hazy. A gauzy film over his eyes, he blinks, and blinks.

When you come once more, it shatters and he's aware of the stain that's bled into the dark denim on his thigh, a stickiness that's smeared between your thighs. Your panties are ruined and he gulps when he drags his gaze up from between your legs to your face.

Quiet, hungry, you're already staring at him. Your chest heaves with exertion but you remain still otherwise, lips parting in invitation, eyes half-lidded.

"Baby–"

"You said you'd take care of me," you intone beseeching, voice affecting a trembling, delicate quality.

Fuck.

He's never been good at denying you much. Already, he feels the urge to take you into his arms and promise to make it better, but he forces his hand to stay, curling his fingers in the bedsheets.

You crawl forward, until your lips are ghosting over his, eyes swallowing his field of vision until all he can see are the stars in your irises. He feels the

"Jason, please, it still hurts," you whimper quietly, a wounded noise that carves him from the inside out, guilt and shame poisoning his every nerve. He's at war with himself, wanting to ease your pain – he feels responsible for it, in a way – and hesitating similarly. Is this right? Is it okay?

Before he can come up with an answer, you press your mouth to his.

The last of his inhibitions crumbles completely under the plush of your mouth.

He rolls the both of you over, relishing in the gasp you let out, the sight of you splayed against the mattress. He's quick to divest himself of his clothes, tugging his shirt off recklessly, not minding the sound of ripping fabric he vaguely registers hearing. The jeans go next, and his underwear in one, flung to some corner of the bedroom.

Your spit slick mouth curves up into a delighted, drunken smile when he crawls over you, body eclipsing yours with every intent of ravishing you.

Jason holds himself up with one hand, the other reaching to the bedside table and rummaging in the drawer for the box he keeps there. Only, he comes up short and dread dawns over him in a cold wave when he remembers –

He'd used the last of the condoms a few nights ago. It hadn't mattered in the last couple of days, the weekend too busy for the both of you to do much else but curl up next to each other, too exhausted to consider working up a sweat.

"Fuck," he whispers, shaking. "Fuck, baby, there aren't, um…"

Your eyes fill with tears at the unfinished sentence, a hiccuped sob stuttering out of your chest.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he tries to soothe you, a hand smoothing down your face. "I'll just – I'll run to the store, I'll be back before you know it."

"No, please, just–" Watery eyed and upset, you tug him closer as though fearing he'll take off. "I don't care, I don't, I just – I need you, Jason. Please."

He stares at you, heart thundering in his ears. "Fuck you without –"

"Need you now," you whimper, lips tugging down pitifully into a pout that cuts through his chest.

It isn't as though this is his first time fucking you raw –

Tipsy laughter, hushed whispers of it's fine, just once, we'll get the morning after pill.

– but still. This is different, another ballpark entirely.

You stare up at him, desperation in every crease and curve of your face, pleading with him. Too far gone to care, you beg him.

"I'll, um," he rasps out, throat dry, "I'll pull out."

You make some sort of noise that sounds like a vague affirmation, tugging him closer hastily. Poor, pretty girl. His chest aches at the sight of you, needy, looking to him to fix it.

"I'll fix it," he finds himself muttering, lining himself up with your entrance. You've similarly taken to murmuring under your breath, hands carding through his hair, devotion in your every touch.

"Need you so bad, please, please, baby."

The slick that smears against his head, the soft warmth of you, nearly makes his eyes roll back into his head. A drawn out whimper spills from your lips at the press of his hips, the first inches of him pushing into your tight heat.

You sink into the mattress as he notches himself further inside, mouth opening. You paint an obscene picture, your lips bitten raw, naked chest arched. He lowers his head to mouth at your nipples, teeth teasing at the sensitive points. You're warm, so warm beneath him – around him.

He's given only a moment to breathe before you push your hips up, impatient. Fucking yourself against him, your fingers dig into the muscle of his back for leverage, tucking him close enough to you that he brushes against your neck and tastes the salt on your skin.

Jason sets a harried pace, bucking forward against you. You begin to cry out again, every resounding slap of his skin against yours drawing out a moan that curls tight around him and presses down on his stomach. You exchange panted breaths between open mouthed kisses, tongues and teeth clashing messily, muffled pleas that beg for more, more, more.

Filthy, debauched, it doesn't take very long for you to approach your peak. Jason, lost in the wetness of your cunt, feels his own building and knows this is a dangerous game he's playing, toeing the line of recklessness.

"Close," he pants, feeling the tell-tale fluttering of you around him, your orgasm imminent. If he can just hold out until he's gotten you there –

Your legs wrap around him, hold so tight he's not able to do much more than rock against you in desperate, quick rolls of his hips.

"Inside," you warble. Your hands come to cradle his head, coaxing him down to kiss you, licking up into his mouth sweetly, teeth catching on his bottom lip. "Mmh, please, baby? Please? I – Jason – want it so bad, need you inside."

"Oh fuck," he gasps, voice hitching, breath stuttering. His face creases, overcome, and you grin, dazed, drunken, pulling him into another sloppy kiss. What's he to do?

You scream into his mouth at the same time that Jason comes. His vision whitens at the sensation of your pulsing heat, the unforgiving tightening that demands his orgasm. His fingers dig into the soft flesh at your hips, burying himself to the hilt and surrendering to your claim.

Warm and wet around him, the evidence of his debauchery coats the inside of your thighs and clings to the base of him. He's light-headed, a little winded, and it takes him a moment to gather his sensibilities. When he looks down, he finds you a boneless puddle beneath him, eyelids fluttering tiredly.

He should pull out. He knows he ought to – but he's broken so many rules, what's another? Jason gathers you in his arms and rolls over gently, tucking you against his chest, a hand skimming up and down the length of your spine comfortingly.

"Fuck," he whispers out into the air, and you murmur atop him. He glances down, meeting your bleary eyes. "Y'just had to go and get caught in that crossfire, huh?"

"N'my fault," you grumble, pressing your face back into his chest.

"Gonna give me a heart attack," he grumbles, dropping a kiss to your crown. Then, with a look over at the bedside table, he jostles you a bit. "Hey. Don't fall asleep. We still have to get you the antidote."

"Wake me when 's ready," is your answer, tone somehow managing a prissiness unexpected of someone who'd just been fucked to within an inch of their life, and he drops his head back into the pillows, incredulous.

This girl would be the death of him.

first kinktober 2024 fic let's go!! i genuinely didn't think i was going to be able to commit to kinktober this year (i'm still nervous about whether i'll be able to) because finals are literally just around the corner and i'm stressing. but hopefully you enjoyed the first installment to this year's kinktober and the coming ones don't disappoint, either!

[beesspacedotorg]

Dibs

Summary: You get close with your new pack, especially the Luna. 5.5k words

Warnings: it's omegaverse. guys. it's omegaverse. there's gonna be omegaverse in it. reader is an omega, so is lino. there's mommy kink. towards lino. uh. there's s3x. what else. readers genitals and pronouns are not specified or elaborated on at all B). one (1) piss joke. poly ot8 and it's implied they all bone but there's no actual boning that happens. there's boning described once for two seconds.

Notes: I have almost all of the legendary fish in stardew. this was inspired by this ask that @hyunsvngs got like two days ago. it was also finished yesterday, but I was busy so I didn't post it. thanks to my friends who read it and gave me feedback. uhm. that's all.

Hyunjin is the one who finds you. You’re both in the same class at university, a filler class, something to do with philosophy, and you group up on a project to discuss the differences in the eastern and western versions of the practice.

“Do you think the whole ‘Alpha Mindset’ that’s going around these days could be a facet of modern philosophy, or is it just omegaphobia repackaged?” You’re dicking around on your laptop in class. After assigning the project, your teacher gave up on doing their job, which would be great, but attendance is still mandatory.

“Probably repackaged, hey I have a question for you.” Hyunjin sets his phone down when he asks, tilting in his seat to face you and your heart skips about seven beats in your chest.

He’s pretty, almost pretty enough that it’s annoying, that and he smells nice. It took you two weeks of classes to muster up the courage to ask him on a date only for him to say that he has seven boyfriends but he’d be more than happy to be friends. You would sell your soul to the nearest evil spirit to be lucky enough to have one boyfriend, much less seven, but you aren’t going to let a good opportunity slip out of your hands, so you took his offer of friendship even though you wanted- want- more.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You can feel that this conversation is bordering on serious, a topic that you and Hyunjin broach often. He’s the poetic type, and often you find yourself discussing the intricacies of human emotion with him. He seems nervous though, nervous enough that you temporarily pause Papa’s Pizzeria and boot up 2048 instead, giving him as much attention as you can offer.

“So. Okay wait. Give me a second, I have a list of questions to ask you. Seungmin made me a flowchart.” You smile at him, he’s cute. Seungmin is one of his boyfriends, Hyunjin spends more time than is strictly necessary talking your ear off about how smart and cute and talented Seungmin is. You’d be jealous if you hadn’t seen Seungmin pick Hyunjin up from school one time. Your pants filled with slick so fast you had to hide in the bathroom for half an hour pretending to be sick until you calmed down enough to head home.

“Okay. Uhm. Would you consider us to be good friends?” His voice sounds slightly robotic as he reads from his script and you laugh slightly before confirming.

“Oh, that’s great. Me too. Uh. Do you have a boyfriend?” He pauses. “Or a girlfriend, or a partner?” He adds those last two as an afterthought, rushing through them and you laugh again.

“You would know if I managed to pull that off, Hyunjinnie.”

“What about that pretty girl from your math class?”

“She only dates Alphas unfortunately.”

“Damn.” He doesn’t sound very sorry as he says it, but you can tell he’s trying to be nice. It irks you just a tad, but you think this conversation is leading up to something so you drop the irritation and motion for him to continue.

“Okay, if ‘no’, the next question was,” he’s mumbling to himself and you snort slightly. “Do you have a pack?” You blink. He’s never asked you this before and you shake your head. Where you’re from, people have moved away from forming packs, something about a post World War 2 culture shift and traditional values and homophobia and what not. Your generation is working to bring them back, but the only pack you have is your immediate family. You haven’t gotten close enough to anyone on campus to try and start one, and the one time you felt the need you were swiftly friendzoned.

“Ah. No. I don’t.” He hums sadly.

“Okay. Would you like one?”

“Hyunjin…” You’re starting to feel slightly defensive, and you’re not sure if you like where this is going.

“Wait. Wait. Let me finish.” He huffs. “I told Chan these questions would weird you out, but what do I know?” He sets his phone down and grabs the hand that was busy moving the 2048 tiles around on your computer screen.

“I have a crush on you.” You blink, rapid fire. “And I would like to date you. And also so would my seven boyfriends. But we can get to that later. I got here first, I call dibs.”

In the version of this you tell your friends and family, you accepted immediately and you and Hyunjin went on your first date that afternoon. In reality, you stood up so fast you almost passed out and hightailed it to the bathroom to have a mild panic attack. Hyunjin was kind enough to grab your things and wait for you. He was also kind enough to wait the months-long process of you being generally distrustful of him and his intentions until you decided he was actually serious and that you wanted to give it a try.

-

Which leads you to where you are now, in the passenger seat of Hyunjin’s car, hands outrageously sweaty as you prepare to meet the rest of the pack for the first time.

“Listen, we don’t have to.” He says. “I’ve talked it over with the rest of them, it can just be you and I. I like you, I want to date you.”

“No, no. Even if it does work that way, I’d have to meet them eventually.”

“Yeah, but meeting ‘my boyfriends that you have no commitment to’ would probably be easier than meeting ‘my boyfriends who might also become your boyfriends.’”

“I can guarantee you it wouldn’t.”

“Jeeze. You should talk to someone about that.”

“Insurance.”

“Channie has good insurance.”

“I’m not legally dependent on him.”

“Oh.”

He grabs your incredibly sweaty hand in his huge and not-so-sweaty one and holds it for the rest of the drive. When he pulls into the driveway he kisses said hand and bats the other one away from the door handle.

“Don’t worry. I got it.” Usually, he would just walk around the car to open it for you, today he bodily throws himself over the hood before doing a weird roll and a cartwheel. You laugh and he opens it and helps you out. He smiles.

You’re still laughing at him as he guides you to the front door and opens it, you’re laughing as he helps you take your shoes off, and you’re laughing through introductions.

“What’s so funny?” Jeongin asks, and you burst into more laughter as you remember the way Hyunjin chucked himself over the car. You’ve calmed down enough to tell him just as you hear yelling from a different room.

“Hwang Hyunjin! How the hell did you get dirt on your shirt? We told you to pick them up, not stop for mud wrestling!”

(You do, eventually, tell Jeongin what happened. He demands a live demonstration and almost cries at it.

“It’s just so dumb! He’s usually graceful and he just- How did he move his body like that?”

“That was the ugliest fucking cartwheel I’ve ever seen.”)

-

The pack is nice and touchy and, best of all, they want you around.

Heeelllloooooo

hi jisung

Jisung ??? Are you mad at me or smth?

hi jiji

Okay great

WHat are you doung today

And don’t say “your mom”

your mom

ah shit

uh. nothing. sleeping. eating. pissing.

In my mouth?

????????????

Ignore that.

Anyways.

Come over :D 

You can do all of that here

In my bed >:)

I was over there yesterday

Idc. I’m sending over Changbinnie with the car &lt;3

I’M NOT PREPARED TO LEAVE THE HOUSE

Good thing you’re just coming to hang out with me then

-

So, you like them. You’re comfortable with them, there’s only one problem.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“How do you even know that?” Seungmin levels you with a stare.

“It’s physically impossible to hate you-”

“Not true.” Seungmin stares again. You stare back. He rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He doesn’t talk to me.”

“He’s shy.”

“Well! So am I! Only one of us can be shy in this relationship and I call dibs!” Seungmin huffs and smashes his head into a pillow.

“Kim Seungmin, if you mess up my nest, I’m kicking you out.”

“This is my bed.”

“Not anymore.” He fixes the pillow and holds your face in his hands.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“What if he does? What if Luna doesn’t like me?” Seungmin plants a kiss to your nose and lets you cry.

-

haihai

Minho?????

I’m the only one without a cute nickname

rectify that immediately

what should I call you then

Idk. I’ve never had to give myself a nickname.

anyways

a little puppy told me that you think I don’t like you

kim seungmin is dead to me

say your goodbyes

kkkkk

no need for that

I could smell your tears on him after you went home

I thought he scared you away

it took a very long time to get him to fess up >:)

what did you do

nothing he doesn’t enjoy

anyway 

Luna is sorry

for making you think he doesn’t like you

come over tomorrow

I’ll make it up to you >:)

???

I’m not really up to boning rn, sorry to say

>:( that’s not what I meant

Jisungie says you like this game

Stardew Valley

he says it has multiplayer mode

I downloaded it on our switch for us to play together

just us

everyone else can suffer

oh. 

just us?

unless you’d rather have company

I think Channie is free

NO THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT WE CAN PLAY IT ALONE

chan is free you say >:)

Yah! I called dibs on you!

I’m kicking him out of the house tomorrow

teehee

-

Stardew with Minho is surprisingly fun. You put him in charge of fishing while you spend your days toiling in the mines. He starts beef with Harvey, the local doctor, after you tell him that Harvey is your go-to love interest when you play the game solo.

“He’s pixels! Code and pixels!”

“I don’t care! This stupid doctor wanders onto our farm and charges me money for passing out on my own land. And! He’s stealing my Omega. He needs to go. How do I replace him?” You let out a laugh and ignore the flutters in your stomach when he casually lays claim on you.

“Do you get this upset when Felix or Ji talk about their media crushes?”

“... I don’t see how that’s very relevant to the conversation.”

“You’re silly.” He huffs at you.

-

“Why is this fish ugly?”

“That’s a- You just caught a legendary fish. Do you know how hard that is?”

“It’s ugly. I’m selling it.”

“No, don’t! Let me buy a fish tank! We can display it on our farm!”

“Why would you want to display this?”

“You can only catch one per save file.” He rolls his eyes but dutifully places the fish in the tank when you return to the farm. You kiss his cheek and watch his ears turn red.

-

After that, spending time with Minho is easy. You can’t really imagine what it was like being in the pack without having his attention on you. Felix starts joking that he’s been replaced as Minho’s favorite. (He stops because it starts to make you mildly upset, but also because you’re pretty sure Minho sucked the soul out of his dick right after he first made that joke.)

It comes to a head around exam season, this time, you and Hyunjin don’t share any classes, and annoyingly, Chan is too busy to eat much less help you settle, so you end up floundering with anxiety and stress and lack of sleep.

“Jagi? What’s wrong?” It’s Minho, his scent lavender and undercut with something sugar coated.

“Everything.” Your head is in your hands and you’re shoving your palms into your eyes to push back tears. Minho hums, hand coming to the back of your neck to scruff you just slightly.

“What’s your schedule like right now?” You shove your calendar at him and he hums, considering for a second before he’s hauling you up by your armpits.

“Wait- I have to study. I can’t just-”

“You have to eat.” This is the harshest you’ve ever heard him speak to you, but strangely enough, you don’t feel scared. “You have to eat and sleep and maybe shower and cuddle with Luna because he misses you and then you can get back to studying. Yeah?”

His suggestion makes you whine and struggle in his hold a bit. His hand returns to your neck to re-scruff you.

“Settle. I’m not asking, jagi, I’m telling.” You huff and pout at him, but he’s the pack’s head Omega for a reason, and who are you to question his authority? So you listen, going limp in his hold and forcing him to bear your weight.

“I see why you and Seungminnie get along so well. You’re listening, but not without struggle, hmm? Brats. The both of you.”

“‘M not.”

“You are. But that’s okay, Luna will train it out of you some other time. You’ll learn to behave.”

You can ignore how his words sent a spike of heat to your belly, but you can’t ignore the way he smirks at the change in your scent.

“Oh? Do you like that?”

“... I thought I was supposed to be eating.”

“Nice subject change. But yes, you are. Sit there and let me handle it.”

He feeds you and helps you shower, despite your many protests that you’re gross and can handle it yourself he refuses to back down.

“Let me do this for you, hmm?” His eyes are soft. “I don’t have to if you really don’t want me to, but I want to take care of you. Let me take care of my baby.” So you do, melting under his soft gaze and softer words, and he must be doing something with his scent, because you feel mildly scent drunk as he drags you into his nest.

“I’m allowed in?” You’re surprised. You’ve never been in his room before, most of your hangouts happening in the living room or Chan’s room when he’s not home because Minho thinks it’s funny to bother the Alpha. So you’re slightly out of it and a lot surprised and Minho looks a little upset that you asked but he takes your arm and shoves you onto his bed, rearranging his nest around you before climbing in himself.

“Of course you’re allowed in. You think Kim Seungmin is allowed in here and you’re not? You think I let a sweaty, post-gym Changbin in here but won’t let you? You’re silly. Hush.”

“But-”

“Hush.”

“Okay.” He hums, satisfied at your submission and wraps himself around you. 

“Luna will give you a reward when you finish exams.”

“What if I don’t pass?”

“You still deserve a reward for trying.” He kisses your head and you fall asleep like that, curled around each other, comfortable in his bed and warm in his arms.

-

“I’m finished!” You wander into the house the next week, fully prepared to spend your break doing absolutely nothing.

“Yay! With what, exactly?” Changbin asks. You hang your self off of him, forcing him to drag you along as he putters around the kitchen.

“With exams! Didn’t Yongbokkie and Minho ban you from the kitchen?”

“Well, yes. But what they don’t know won’t kill them.”

“What who doesn’t know?” It’s Minho, and you giggle as you push your face in between Changbin’s shoulder blades. He’s so big and warm. You want to bite him and also want him to hold you against a wall for unholy acts. Your hands wander around while he’s stuttering out a lame excuse to grope his chest.

“Wh- Hey! I’m busy getting threatened here!”

“Yes. I’m busy celebrating being a genius. It seems we both have full schedules.”

“Celebrating,” Minho steps next to you and taps you until you look at him, cheek still smushed against Changbin’s back. “Are you finished with exams then?”

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closing. Changbin really is comfortable, he smells slightly like chocolate and raspberries, and you could do with a celebratory nap.

“That’s great!” You’re being tugged away from your napping spot. “Come, Luna promised you a reward.”

“My nap.”

“You can’t sleep standing, you’re not a horse.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

He crosses his arms after closing the door to his bedroom.

“Do you want to nap before or after your reward?”

“What’s my reward?” The sentence hasn’t been out of your mouth for very long before he’s cupping the back of your head and kissing you.

“Oh. Oh. This is a good reward.” He smiles against your mouth, gently pushing you back towards his bed.

“Yeah? I thought you’d like it. I can smell you, you know.” Your back is hitting the mattress and there’s a shirt by your head that you think Hunjin was looking for a little while ago. “When you stare at me for too long, I can smell how needy you get. We all can, but I called dibs.”

“Dibs?” Your hands are under his shirt squishing his pecs.

“Mhm. Dibs. Hyunjinnie got to date you first. Kiss and hug and hold your hand. But do you know what I get to do first?” You shake your head and he gives you a wicked smile before he leans down next to your ear. “I get to fuck you first. Not Channie, not our Alpha, not Hyunjinnie who found you first. Me, your Luna. I get you first.” You inhale, shaky, and your legs shake slightly with the way blood rushes away from your brain. You can smell how your scent spikes and you can smell how Minho’s spikes in return. He smells so good, you want to get your mouth on him, so you do. You pull him down until his neck is in reach and seal your lips around the scent gland there, licking the sweat from his skin and letting your lungs fill with nothing but him.

“Jagi,” his voice is breathy, he pulls your head away from his neck and you whine. “You’re gonna get yourself scent drunk and I want you to be present for the things I’m going to do to you. Be good for me.” You pout slightly at him but nod, you’ll be good for him, you’ll do anything he wants. But you want to kiss him again, you want to kiss him so badly that you think you’ll die without it. You throw yourself up, arms circling around his neck as you press your mouth on his and you knock him off balance a bit. You’re upset when he tilts, separating your mouths and you push and push until suddenly he’s on his back under you, but you’re finally kissing so you don’t care all that much.

“Eager.” He’s too busy trying to talk to kiss you and you nip at his lip lightly until he gets the message.

“You’re only getting away with this because this is the first time,” he warns. “Next time, I won’t be so lenient.” You think he might be lying, that he’d let you do whatever you want regardless of how many times you fall into bed together, but you aren’t in the habit of letting other people know you have an advantage so you let it go.

You’re grinding down onto him, chasing friction as your pants fill with enough slick that you worry you might be in heat, whimpering with every movement when he grabs your hips, stopping you.

“Minho, why?”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Don’t you wanna get your pants off? Hmm? Feel me bare?” And suddenly, you do. He’s so smart for knowing that, you think. You let him slide your bottoms off and tug at his until they’re gone and there’s nothing separating the two of you save for the fact that you can’t fuse into one person.

You settle yourself back over him and oh. Omegas are supposed to be small, in the dick department, and you suppose compared to an Alpha, he might be. But he feels so good against you, he’ll feel so good inside of you, that you don’t much care, pawing at him desperately. He chuckles and grabs your hand, flipping you back over so he’s on top again.

“Baby, don’t tell me you’re already gone?” You are. You’re so gone. If you’re being honest, you were gone the second he kissed you. He does it again and you whine into his mouth.

“Noisy little thing. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Make sure my pretty Omega is all satisfied before you leave my bed.” He smiles and then he’s kissing his way down your neck and grumbling about the shirt you’re still wearing before his mouth is on the place where you’re leaking slick and suddenly your brain is falling out of your ears.

Your hands grab onto his hair and pull, hips arching up into his mouth. You think the sound that you let out could be heard from outer space, but in your defense, he’s good with his tongue.

“I knew you’d taste good.” You have no idea how he’s still talking, but the vibrations feel nice enough that you don’t want to stop him, that and you don’t think you could stop Minho from doing much of anything at this rate.

“We talked about it, you know.” You didn’t know. The pack talked about you? You quickly lose your train of thought as he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Small, he always says. They don’t feel small.

“It was all Jeonginnie could talk about during his last rut.” Minho huffs and you can see him roll his eyes despite the fact that yours are closed. You weren’t there for his last rut, too nervous and too busy with school to stay. It had caused quite the fuss and you had to spend extra time with Jeongin before and after to soothe him.

“Knuckle deep in Yongbokkie and all he could talk about was you. How good you’d taste, how warm you’d be. He’s lucky that Yongbokkie has the hots for you too, otherwise he’d be down one appendage.” The implication of the youngest Alpha getting his dick chopped off by Felix makes you laugh, but the knowledge that the pack desires you knocks the wind from your lungs. Either that, or the thing Minho is currently doing with his fingers.

He licks you again, and then places his mouth around your hole and sucks, like he’s trying to drink the slick straight from your body. The sound it makes is absolutely obscene, and your face heats at it, hands coming up to hide.

“No, no. Move your hands, jagiya. Let me see you.” He’s moving, mouth no longer on you and you hate it, but your embarrassment outweighs everything else so you don’t move your hands and instead shake your head at him. He pauses, hand stilling inside of you.

“No? Did you just tell me no, sweet thing?” You shake your head again.

“You didn’t? It seems like you did. Seems like you still are.” He’s laughing, or, he was.

“I thought you were going to be good for me. Do I have to turn this reward into a punishment?” That’s the one that does it, your eyes go wide and your hands fall from your face to grab at him, head shaking violently.

“No! No! Mommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, I was just nervous, please. I’ll be good. I’m good.” It takes you a second to register what you’ve said, and when you do your hands move up to cover your face again. Minho catches your wrists.

“Mommy? Yeah? Am I your mommy, sweetheart?” He drops your wrist to cup your face and you’ve lost all coordination. He taps your cheek, just a hint of a slap, but it’s enough to have you looking at him with wet eyes.

“I asked you a question, jagiya. Answer mommy when he talks to you, okay?” You nod, still in a daze and he huffs and takes a hold of your hair.

“What did I just tell you, doll?”

“To answer you.”

“Mhm, and what are you not doing?”

“Answering.”

“So what do you say to me?”

“I’m sorry, mommy. I’m sorry, please let go, it hurts.” He lets go of your hair and gently massages your scalp.

“Hmm. That’s better. And, it’s supposed to hurt, baby. That’s how you learn to listen to your mommy. That’s what a brat like you needs to learn their place.” You choke slightly on your own spit, hands coming up to rest in his hair, playing with it. He smiles at you.

“Good. Now, be good for your mommy, yeah? Be good for your Luna and I’ll make sure you get everything you need. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Yes. I can.” He hums and suddenly his fingers are in you again and he manages to take one of your nipples into his mouth, and you’re already so keyed up that you feel slightly embarrassed when you’re cumming on his hand a moment later.

“Oh, sweet thing. Did I take too long? Hmm? Did mommy tease you too much?” You shake your head.

“No, ‘m sorry, mommy.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Don’t worry so much. You used your brain so well this past week, let mommy do the thinking for you. I’ll tell you when to apologize, how about that?”

“Sounds good.” You’re hot, overwarm, and you're shoving your shirt off the rest of the way and chucking it somewhere. The shirt’s only over your eyes for a second, but somehow Minho has managed to coat his fingers in his own slick and shove them into your mouth. Your eyes roll so far back into your head you’re worried they might stick but he tastes so good that you would suffer blindness for eternity just to have this.

“Mommy, mommy, you taste so good-”

“Shh, I know.” He shoves his fingers far enough back that you gag a little and your eyes water and he coos and wipes at your tears with the hand that was in you, smearing slick across your cheekbones.

His fingers are out of your mouth and he’s between your legs, shoving them apart to get at your hole and then he's sliding in.

“Oh God.”

“Just Minho is fine. Or mommy,” he giggles at you, “since you seem so fond of it.”

Your glare slightly at him, less than pleased with the corny joke, but he shifts his hips and hits a spot that has you keening, arching up into him for more.

“There? Yeah? Jesus. You're leaking so much that I'd think you're in heat if you didn't know any better.” He's right, but it's unfair of him to single you out.

“You are too.” It comes out a lot more whiny than you wanted but he’s nice enough to look offended anyway.

“I thought I took care of your attitude. It seems I have my work cut out for me.” His pace picks up at that, and suddenly you don't have enough brain cells to think, let alone talk back.

You're not wrong though, there's slick everywhere. From you and him, it's soaking through the sheets, it's sticking your thighs together every time he thrusts forward, it's coating his hands and everywhere he touches you. It's loud, the slapping of your bodies accompanied by a wet squish every time either of you moves. It's messy and sticky and slightly gross and you want more. You want to be covered in him and he in you until you smell so similar not even the best drug dog would be able to tell you apart.

Your hands wander searching and searching until you’ve found the place where he’s leaking too and you're coating your fingers in it and smearing a hand over your chest before sticking them in your mouth. You hear Minho gasp and his hips stutter before picking back up.

“Dirty, that’s dirty, Omega. You want me to make a mess of you?” You nod. Of course you do. You want your mommy to do whatever he wants to you. He coos and guides your hand back to his hole, guiding you into fingering him while he’s rearranging your guts.

“Mommy, it’s- you’re so warm.” He hums at you, breath finally turning ragged.

“Yeah? You wanna fuck mommy sometime? I bet you’d be good at it. Such a good little Omega for me, for us.” You do. You would like to fuck him sometime. Anytime really, you bet he’d be so warm. Tight and hot and wet. You have him on your fingers now, but you’re too overwhelmed to really enjoy it the way it should be enjoyed, the way he should be enjoyed. You want to eat him out, drink his slick straight from the source for the rest of time. You wouldn’t need water or food anymore if you could just have him.

“Yeah, I would. Mommy, please. I’ll be good. I’ll do so good.” You’re babbling at him, out of it and barely able to speak. He has to strain to understand you properly.

“You would. Mommy knows you would. Such a sweetheart, you’d make your Luna feel so good, hmm?” And you tighten around him with a loud moan and there’s a bang on the wall connecting Minho’s room to Chan’s and Minho bangs back.

“Yah! Just because you’re too busy to get your dick wet doesn’t mean I am! Leave us alone and go jack off or something!” He huffs and looks back down at you, kissing your nose softly in a stark juxtaposition to the way his hips are probably bruising your own.

“Why don’t you go ahead and cum, baby? Hmm? Mommy’s right behind you.” He shoves his fingers in your mouth again and this time, this time, his fingers are coated in a heady mixture of yours and his slick and that’s what does you in. That’s what makes you cum so hard your legs shake and makes Minho take his fingers out of your mouth lest you choke. He follows not too soon after, and when he pulls out you can see the mixture of cum and slick slide out of you.

“Next time,” Minho’s looking down at it too, “I’ll make sure that stays in. Can’t have it go to waste, can we?”

-

Despite his earlier promise, he doesn’t let you nap yet.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said. And now I’m saying that you can’t sleep like this.”

He bodily drags you to the shower, again, and changes the sheets before he lets you lie down.

“My hair is gonna be so dry.”

“Where’s the stuff you put in it?”

“At my house.”

“This is your house.”

“I still rent an apartment close to campus.” Minho pauses, shifting so you’re face-to-face.

“Don’t. Come live with us.”

“There aren’t enough rooms.”

“If privacy is what you’re worried about, Luna will build you a room right next to his with his bare hands.” You giggle at him.

“Yeah. But I have to pay a fee for breaking my lease.”

“Luna will take care of it.”

-

haihai

hi minho what��s up

>:( still no cute nickname?

I feel like it’s inappropriate to call you mommy in a casual setting

oh >:)? that’s my nickname now?

if that’s okay

whatever you want

as long as I have a cute nickname before kim seungmin I don’t care

then why did you harass me about it??????!??!?!

kkkk I had to get you in my bed somehow

-

“Can you guys stop texting when you’re right next to each other? All of your weird flirting is really interrupting movie time.” Jisung is complaining from where his head is rammed into your stomach.

“Dude. You’re literally not even watching it.” It’s Jeongin now, reaching over to smack Ji’s head.

“And? You’re the one who’s always complaining about how loud they are.” This is news to you.

“Is it really that bad?” Your voice is small and immediately Minho’s hands are touching you.

“No. They don’t know what they’re talking about, they’re just mad that they haven’t figured out how to get you to make such pretty noises yet.”

The room erupts into shouts as people defend themselves from Minho’s claim, you smile at him and tuck yourself further into his side, kicking Jisung out from his spot in your lap.

“Hey! I called dibs on your lap! You can’t take that away!” He’s shoving at your knees, trying to shove them back off the couch so he can lay comfortably again.

“When did you guys even call dibs on all this stuff?”

“It used to be while you were on the drive here,” Felix says, “now we do it while you’re  getting a blanket from your room.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Sure. Just call dibs first.”

[revelboo]

begging on my hands and knees for the coma kid part 4 i love it sm i want more. so long as ur okay with it, plsplspls continue the coma kid

One lovesick puppy coming up

The Coma Kid Pt 4

TFO B-127 x Reader

• “Oh, oh. Wait. Here,” he says, banging against the side of the entry to his quarters and you look guiltily up from where you’re trying to figure out how to get down from his berth. “Soft things. I thought you might like soft things. Because you’re soft?” And he walks over with what you suspect might be every single rag the aliens have and dumps them on the berth with you, beaming like he expects you to be excited. Play along, you remind yourself. Especially since he just gave you a possible way to climb down as soon as you’re unsupervised. You can tie these together and climb down. Maybe. You just need something to secure them to.

• “Aren’t you thoughtful,” you say and you smile at him. A real smile. Spark warming, he drops to his knees and leans against the berth, servos dragging you to him. Hears your startled noise as he presses his face against you, drinking in your warmth and that humming feeling of rightness and home. Soaking in the praise even though you’ve got a hand planted against his face trying to push him away. It’s okay. You’re just not used to being handled yet, but you’re getting there. You didn’t smack him this time. That’s progress. He can be patient.

• “I want you to be happy. Are you? Happy?” Giving up as he nuzzles his face against you, you awkwardly pat him on the helm. Because he really is just a giant, extremely obnoxious puppy. At your half hearted ‘sure,’ he just grins. Servos curling around you, he picks you up so he can sprawl on his back, placing you on his chassis. Planting your hands on him, you bite into the inside of your cheek. Reminding yourself to not smack his big, grabby hands. “Were you lonely when I left?” He asks even though he was gone, what, an hour tops?

• You’re silent, expression serious again. Making him think that you did miss him. Something that pleases him and makes him unhappy at the same time. Because he understands being lonely, knows that pain very well. And you’re never going to be lonely again, because he’s going to make sure you know you’re wanted. That you’re not going to be abandoned like he was.

• If you just say sure again, will he get even clingier? Because you can’t try to escape if he thinks he can’t leave you alone. Most likely you’ll only get one chance. One chance to get out of giant robot hell and as far from that uncanny feeling of belonging that you get swamped with whenever he touches you. Some weird alien thing he’s doing to you to trick your brain into thinking everything is good when it’s definitely not. “Were you lonely?” You counter.

• Smile faltering slightly as he runs his servos over your hips and up your sides, his thoughts turn almost against his will to sublevel fifty. To being alone for so long time had lost all meaning. Venting unsteadily, he tries to shake it off. Forces a smile. It’s fine. It’s over. And now that he has you, he’ll never be lonely again. Never have to remember staring at the furnace at the end of the conveyer belt and the moment he’d realized if he jumped in no one would ever know. No one would mourn him or look for him. Gone like he never even existed. Shaking himself, he taps you gently on the nose. “Food. You need food, right? I’ll get you some. Um, what do you eat?”

Previous

Next

[muletia]

First kiss with Orion, but I lose 10 aura points cuz I’m immediately red faced, giggling like a manic after. Such a handsome robot man, frfr

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader

summary: you share your first kiss with orion :))

cw: fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of jealousy, implied stalking (nothing serious tho), orion is very awkward in this

word count: 1600

Orion had once again invited himself into your garage.

You spotted the familiar semi-truck even before you turned into your driveway, making the motto "robots in disguise" utterly useless. After all, a giant Peterbilt barely fitting in a regular garage for cars was incredibly conspicuous and, worse, drew suspicion. You’d already fielded nosy questions from neighbors about that particular truck more times than you could count, but luckily, the excuse of a visiting boyfriend still managed to smooth things over. It wasn’t even far from the truth, considering you and Orion had recently entered that odd pre-relationship stage.

The grass on the side of the lawn now had permanent indentations from where you’d been parking your car. The grooves matched the shape and size of your tires perfectly, a result of Orion visiting so often and staying so long that your garage had essentially been repurposed, evicting your poor, lifeless car to sleep outdoors. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose, jealous of your other mode of transport. You wouldn’t be surprised; Orion had a knack for overthinking the smallest issues—things that didn’t bother you at all.

So, as usual, you left your displaced car outside in the same spot as always (you were even convinced you could feel the tires sinking into the grooves) and headed toward the garage. You caught sight of Orion adjusting his side mirrors to keep you in view, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small, endearing gesture.

“Hi, Orion,” you greeted him while closing the garage door. “Been waiting long?” The question was rhetorical—he always arrived early. Once, you’d left work early to run errands and still had a couple of hours to spare. Naturally, you planned to spend them at home. When you pulled into the driveway, Orion was already there. He’d gotten such a scolding that day he was on the verge of tears and hadn’t visited you for a few days afterward. Yet the habit of waiting had become so ingrained in his processor that he soon resumed the routine.

“Greetings, [Name],” he responded, transforming carefully so that his helm wouldn’t hit the ceiling, which already bore plenty of scars from startled jerks, miscalculated transformations, and certain... blue fluids. “Just a few kliks.”

You hummed in response, making it clear you didn’t believe him but weren’t interested in pressing the issue. Feeling his intense and impatient gaze, you set your bag down by the door to the house and finally turned your full attention to him. The reward was a soft, delighted smile.

He moved closer, unable to tolerate too much distance between you. It looked awkward and somewhat comical as he shuffled his knees and elbows across the floor like he was crawling, but the cramped space of the garage left him no better option. That said, it worked. Within moments, his large, expressive faceplate was mere inches from yours, and the optics on it cast a blue glow on you in the dim light of the garage.

You didn’t miss how those same optics flicked briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The only evidence of the moment was the slightly louder whir of his cooling fans.

“[Name],” he began, “I would like to ask you something. May I?”

“Sure?”

“Thank you. Could you explain the symbolism of kisses to me?”

Straight to the point, as always.

“Ah, well, okay,” you started, by now accustomed to his frequent questions about human culture—particularly those related to dating. “A kiss is a way to express feelings and physically convey them to someone else. People kiss to greet each other or show love.”

“With their... lips?”

“Exactly,” you nodded, suddenly feeling oddly flustered. Flirting with him was one thing, but an abrupt conversation about something as intimate as kissing was a whole other level. Especially when his face was so dangerously close to yours, silently begging for a kiss.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure and break the tension by averting your eyes. However, out of the corner of your vision, you saw Orion frantically trying to reestablish eye contact, his optics darting around in search of yours. It didn’t help that he looked crestfallen, as if learning that lips were essential for kissing had personally ripped the spark from his chest.

“Oh... I see,” he sighed, lowering his helm slightly. He looked like a dejected puppy, and suddenly, you felt an overwhelming urge to console the poor thing.

“Now I have a question,” you said, immediately catching his attention. The dejected puppy look disappeared, replaced by curiosity and the devoted focus he always reserved just for you. “What’s brought on this sudden interest? Got a human on your mind?” It was meant as a joke, but his embarrassed expression made you realize you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“Recently, I’ve been delving into human literature, and this concept appeared frequently. I conducted independent... research but preferred to ask you for confirmation.”

Because he couldn’t tell you he’d spent the past few days reading an overwhelming amount of science fiction romance about interspecies relationships. And he especially couldn’t tell you that he favored stories where he could imagine himself as the protagonist and cast you as the love interest. As for the endless hours he’d spent meticulously fantasizing about your romantic connection, intimacy, and the physical closeness that came with it—not even Unicron could drag that confession out of him.

“So, am I correct in assuming that Cybertronians don’t kiss?” you added.

“No,” he replied, his tone almost mournful, as if the very notion pained him. “Without lips, we convey feelings differently.”

“Would you like to try?”

He blinked several times, his cooling fans whirring louder again.

“Pardon?”

“Would you like to kiss?” you clarified. “To see what it’s like for yourself?”

Yes. Yes. YES. He’d dreamed of this moment in countless ways, wanting so badly to express his feelings in a human way, hoping you’d understand how much he cared for you—how much he adored, admired, and cherished you. The need for closeness threatened to overwhelm his rationality, but he managed to keep his composure, though his frame trembled slightly with excitement.

“You truly... truly have no objections? I would never wish to coerce you into such... carnal gestures.”

“Orion, darling, you’re not coercing me into anything. This is entirely my conscious decision.”

“And does the setting not bother you? My research suggested that kisses should occur in more romantic environments.”

“Nothing about this bothers me,” you assured him. “So? Shall we try?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

You didn’t even have the chance to ask how he envisioned it before he suddenly began shrinking, using mass-shifting to make things easier for both of you. In mere moments, he reduced himself to an impressive but more manageable three meters tall, kneeling as though preparing to propose. You had to remind yourself repeatedly that he didn’t know the implications of that pose, and you needed to pull yourself together because your cheeks were likely redder than his armor.

“May I?” he asked at last.

“Of course,” you whispered.

A warm, solid servo cradled your head, digits gently tangling in your hair. He was cautious, clearly determined not to hurt you.

You thought he might hesitate, regretful of the situation he’d placed himself in, but he quickly proved you wrong. Carefully, he covered your lips with his own. Not hesitantly—he was far from shy—but inquisitively, exploring uncharted territory while aiming to bring you pleasure. And he succeeded wonderfully.

You pressed your lips against his, completing the kiss, which prompted him to draw you closer. To avoid losing your balance, you grabbed onto his chest plating, your thumb brushing against his cool windshields.

The first kiss was incredibly gentle yet awkward. You could tell Orion had no idea what he was doing, relying solely on movies, descriptions, or whatever else he’d found online. The absence of actual lips also affected the quality, but you could sense the subtle puckering on his part, just as awkward as the entire kiss.

You were convinced he must have practiced the maneuver on his own.

You didn’t want to interrupt him, enchanted by the sweetness of his gestures, his tenderness, and his endearing awkwardness. But the kiss literally took your breath away. You tried to hold on a bit longer, savoring the feeling of bliss and an odd sense of rightness, as if teaching an alien how to kiss was your everyday routine. And honestly? You fervently hoped it would be.

Reluctantly, you pulled away to catch your breath. Orion chased after you for a moment, unwilling to end the kiss, but eventually relented, his optics clouded as he watched you inhale deeply. He didn’t seem entirely present in this reality.

Chuckling at his utterly smitten expression, you brought him back to Earth.

“Please... I need more. This is incredible, [Name], unimaginably wonderful. If you don’t mind?” he leaned closer again, pressing his forehead to yours.

Still laughing, you tried to meet his gaze, but the sight of his love-struck, besotted optics filled you with uncontainable joy. You hadn’t expected to feel such elation from a simple kiss, yet here you were, unable to stop smiling. And his faceplate was so close...

“[Name]?” Orion tried again, this time more concerned than yearning.

“I’m fine!” you reassured him, finally meeting his optics as you fought off the remnants of laughter. “It’s just... I’m really happy right now.”

“I understand. So am I.”

“So... would you like to...”

“Yes. Please.”

He kissed you again, this time more confidently and even more fervently.

[r0tting-rat]

"Too much?"

A little gift for @/ping-ski, who is driving me absolutely mad with their Sugar Daddy!Eclipse to the point I couldn't help but to write down a short drabble. Some details below for those who aren't familiar with their wonderful au (GO CHECK IT OUT RN PLEASE IT'S WORTH IT)

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Eclipse (by @ping-ski) x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Suggestive, use of alcohol/reader is tipsy. Also, sorry Pingu, he might be a bit ooc! I wasn't sure how flirty I could make him Words: 1200+ Summary: It's the winder holidays, and you just came home after a long evening spent with your dear beloved. Additional tags: Established relationship, Eclipse is a wonderful father, the kid's name is Atlas.

The weather outside is frigid, wind is howling against the tall windows, but the inside of Eclipse's house is warm and inviting. You've just come home after a very long evening with your beloved, an evening that left you feeling elated and giddy like a highschooler—a time of your life that you have long left behind, even though your cheeks still have the habit of warming up whenever your robotic lover looks your way and your stomach flutters at each time you kiss. You have waved goodbye to Esther, Atlas' nanny, just a few minutes before, and she has assured you that the little boy has been fast asleep for a few hours already. You don't miss how Eclipse smiles when she tells him how the boy asked for his "papa" before falling asleep.

"I'll cook him his favourite breakfast tomorrow," he says, more to himself than to you or Esther, "As an apology for my tardiness."

The house is silent, Atlas is soundly sleeping, and you have drunk a little more than usual at the restaurant. For no real reason! It was just a very good wine: fruity, amazingly aged, heavy on the tongue and warm in the gullet. You can still feel it when you swallow down the bile forming in the back of your throat—which is a lot, considering you have stared at Eclipse for the entire ride home, lost in the thought of kissing him as soon as his face turned your way.

You sigh as you step into your shared house, not worried about waking Atlas with the sound of your shoes on the marbled floor thanks to the good soundproofing of the rooms, and you decide to go sit on the couch to rest your tired feet. You and Eclipse had decided to take a walk around the city centre after leaving the restaurant, simply to enjoy the Christmas decorations that have been put up in every corner of the city, and before you knew it you were about to collapse. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop on the soft cushions of the couch, but a cold hand catches you by the waist before you can truly be enveloped by the rich fabrics. Unsurprised, you open your eyes just to find an amused Eclipse staring right back down at you, half-lidded eyes and soft silicone lips extremely close to your flushed face—blush still caused by the alcohol, mind you—he chuckles, and the flush deepens just enough to reach your neck and chest. Eclipse's eyes travel down a moment to follow it as it spreads like ink on your soft skin, and you pretend not to notice that he never really goes back to look you in the eyes, stopping instead on your lips.

"How about a dance?" he asks, out of the blue, and you giggle.

"Dancing with no music? How romantic, Eclipse," you say, before realizing he's completely serious.

The animatronic hums, and immediately his grip on your waist strengthens, and that's your only warning before he pulls you back on your feet to sweep you into a mind-twisting dance. You don't understand where he's taking you, you don't understand what's around you, all you know is that one of his hands is holding one of yours, while the other is placed on the small of your back. You dance in the middle of the large living room, feeling wine-red clouds crowding your mind and your sight slightly unfocusing, and you couldn't be happier.

You don't even have to actually do anything; Eclipse has a firm hold on you, and he's always careful not to spin you too fast, in case it could upset your stomach. All you have to do is let yourself go—one hand on one of his upper arms, one of his shoulder—and allow him to manhandle you into beautiful twirls and languid strides. You rest your head on his warm chest, hearing his inner gears and pistons at work, and the world around you is so hazy you might forget it exists. You sigh and think that maybe that's actually all you need in life: a cold evening, a warm embrace, some soothing wine, and Eclipse's love.

The dance stops after just 5 minutes—which feel like hours to you—and you and your partner simply stand one in the other's arms, like two lovers painted by Klimt, sharing the same passion, familiarity, and devotion. Except, differently from Klimt's picture, your beloved is holding you with four arms instead of two.

"How do you feel?" asks Eclipse after a long pause, and the only answer you can manage to utter is a murmur, "I didn't hear you, my dearest."

"Amazingly," you finally say, groggily looking up at him, "I wanna kiss you."

"Sounds like a perfect plan," he grins, "But how do you plan to enact it? Can you even reach my face?"

He laughs, and, a little offended, you do kiss him. You stand on your tippy toes, you crane your neck, and kiss his jaw; the only spot your lips can reach, but it's enough to make him stop and look down at you, surprised that you actually took the lead.

"Wanna try again, love?" he teases, having already recovered from your kiss, leaning down a little, "Or do I need to pick you up?"

His laugh is mocking, and once more you consider showing him what you're actually capable of—should you climb him like a tree? The idea is tempting—until you stop and actually think about his words.

"Yes," you say, parting from him just to look at his beautiful mismatched eyes. "I do, actually."

Eclipse stops laughing, then hums, growing more amused by the second.

"Okay."

In less than a second you're hoisted up between his bulky arms, legs on either side of his hips, face right in front of his, and your arms thrown over his shoulders.

"Much better," you smile sweetly at him, slowly letting your hands wander to the back of his head, then to his bottom rays, which you caress with a lot of care, and lastly to his neck. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, my doll," he sing-songs, not really noticing what you're doing with your fingers until his tie comes undone on his chest and his elegant button-up opens, letting the vents placed on the side of his chest breathe in fresh air. He looks down, seeing your fingers tracing his torso while unbuttoning his shirt, and his black and golden optics widen with interest. It's your turn to grin.

"Too much?" you ask, and Eclipse begins to make a rumbling sound with his voicebox, a sound that reminds you of a purr, deep and warm when it resonates with your chest and stomach.

"Not enough," he whispers, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, toying with your breath with the way you're holding it back, afraid he could sense through it exactly how much you craved him. His voice is low, dangerous, and you feel it vibrate in the depths of your mind when he speaks. "Not nearly enough, not in any way, my doll. Let me kiss you properly this time, will you?"

You all should thank @hexcii cuz I started writing this drabble during one of our simping sessions (we take turns rambling and yapping about the dca) and yea. we both got the i'm-gay-for-robots virus.

[pink-crayon-princess]

🧸°•🪀☆°•🕹☆•°•🔫☆•°•🧸☆•°🪀

Ways to play if you can't have toys (that isn't just tv/journal/coloring!)

🧸°•🪀☆°•🕹☆•°•🔫☆•°•🧸☆•°🪀

I can have/buy/hide some things, I just can't have obvious little gear!

Window clings make great bath toys, and they come in lots of shapes and sizes for different holidays ☃️🎃

Fidget toys are also great bath toys, and squishy ones feel nice and slippery in the water! ♾️

Statues, figures, holiday decorations, and other thrifted objects can double as dolls - just be careful with them! 🎎

Fake fruit, such as grapes, can double as play food 🍇

Some useful items, such as plush doorstops or silly pens, can be cute for decoration AND for playtime! 🚪

Buy childrens' piano books and learn to play music on a free piano app, if you don't have access to a real piano. The songs are adorable, you will learn a skill, AND you will re-experience learning as a kiddo! 🎹

Print off or make age-appropriate worksheets for math, science, language, etc. and discard them afterwards 📝

Reward yourself with treats when you do something positive 🍬

Draw a picture using at least 10 stickers! 🩷

Lollipops make tasty replacements for pacis. The best sugar-free option is Zollipops! 🍭

I can't have/buy/hide anything at all

If you can't take baths, use brightly-colored soap or shaving cream to finger paint in the shower🧴

Use highlighters and pens that come in lots of different colors instead of crayons 🌈

Make a "snack plate" - a less-fancy charcuterie - it always makes me feel tiny! Cut your food into small bites and eat with your hands if you can 🍿

Learning is the best form of being little, in my fair opinion. Look up songs with hand motions and copy them, watch educational shows such as animal documentaries, or look around on kids' websites such as Nat Geo Kids! 🧪

Pick a scent, piece of clothing, accessory, etc. that you only use when you're tiny. Your brain will slip into the mood quickly 👕

Make paper dolls of yourself, your favorite characters, animals, and more. Make scenarios for yourself such as the carnival, cooking dinner, or being a vet! 🗞

Dance! 🎵

Use your imagination! Maybe a sparkly makeup brush is a movie star. Maybe a little candle is the shy kid. Maybe a sponge is the goofy goober. What personalities would you assign to inanimate objects around you? 💭

Crafting objects can be toys too. Ribbons, for example, can be laser beams, x marks the spot, horsie bows, jungle vines, balance beams, mazes, lassos, reins, and more. 🎀

Get outside! Go for a walk/run and collect fun things that you see along the way, like rocks or acorns. Maybe you can use them for playtime! 🌰

Use different-colored socks on your hands to make sock puppets 🧦

Go about your day ... but as a pirate! Or a princess! Or a tiger! How would a robot fold socks? 🤖

If you're not big on imaginative play, find things to sort, line up, or organize 📊

Talk to God. I'm serious! He wants to know and love you when you feel the most sensitive. You can babble at Him for hours and He will find you so sweet and endearing. There is nothing more healing than being His little one. Like He said, "Let the little children come to Me!" ✝️

[boopshoops]

Ah, how odd. It appears one of the puppets in Playful Land aren't quite like the rest. Almost like it has one of those consciences everyones been talking about, huh?

oc template by ai-kan1!! dividers by dollywons! Sound on!

Name: Isola Pinacirco-Cira

Nicknames: Pin, Pinpin, Goby

Gender: Demiwoman (Though she has not fully realized it yet!)

Pronouns: She/they

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Birthday: May 5 (Taurus)

Age: ??? (She has been asleep for a very long time, but she has been awake for 19 years)

Height: 5'0" or 152cm, though the height of the doll is adjustable.

Voice Claim(s): Lisa Hannigan, Miyuki Sawashiro

Twisted from: Pinocchio, Wendy's Music Box (From Tinkerbell/Peter Pan)

Unique Magic: "I've got no Strings" - The bearer can control and grant practically any unliving, immobile object the ability to move under their command. The more objects are being controlled, the more magic is consumed. However, the generation of blot is shockingly slow, allowing the bearer to use the magic for hours or even days at a time. Depending on the object, it may appear as though it is being haunted by a poltergeist. The magic, however, has a very short range. The object must be within five feet of the bearer, or it is no longer effective. Isola uses this magic to move her body on a day-to-day basis.

Grade: Freshman, though only after the Playful Land Event

Class: 1-D

Job: Playful Land Performer

Hobbies: Dancing ballet, face paint, makeup, putting outfits together, singing, sewing, wood carving, ceramic/pottery/resin repair.

Likes: Feather accessories, being alone, birds, rodents, bugs, performance, applause, classical, soul, and lofi music, animal figurines.

Dislikes: Rain, being alone, excessive heat, winter, bass boosted, fast, or hyper music, too frequent of doll repair jobs, cramped spaces, being unable to eat.

Fears: Being unlovable, never loving someone else, living a life alone, never living in a body they feel comfortable in.

Summary: A quaint performer at the renowned Playful Land, constantly known for putting on a show of elegance and grace. With her unusual cadence, she often struggles to maintain an audience despite her immense talent. Isola frequently scares off certain guests on accident. They have a very hard time handling their emotions, causing them to either come off highly unnatural or lacking facial expressions to a degree that could disturb others.

That's just the cons of being one of the many puppets on the premises, though. She is often mistaken as being one of the other, more robotic workers. Isola's body is detailed and articulated enough to stand out among them, but off-putting enough to be immediately recognized as inhuman. Nonetheless, she remains on the traveling amusement park as what is considered a "highly prized item" by the owner. Of course, you don't come across puppets like her everyday, do you? Might as well put her on display.

When night hits and protocol begins, when the consequences of breaking the many rules of the park take their toll, they can do nothing but watch over it all. It makes her feel sick, quite honestly. Disgusted. Yet, she isn't allowed to help anyone. Her attempts to help usually cause the visitors to flee from her anyway, followed by her own set of serious consequences imposed by the owner. The most she can truly do is make it harder on the other workers: including those she has no choice but to be closest to on the ship: Fellow and Gid- Ah. Wrong Identity. Ernesto and Gino.

CHARACTER PLAYLIST - INSPIRATION - CREATION STORY

Author's Note: holy fuck they have a chokehold on me. hOOOO they have a chokehold on me. she came to me in a vision and did nOT let me go until she was created, holy fuck. UGSDBGSDIUAAAAA anyway, i love her and she is my baby. my slightly fucked up baby.

Note that relationships are up for possible changes in the future- I have thought about possibly involving them with someone romantically, but i feel like I want her to put HERSELF first before that. Her story is one about self love, self discovery, and self care, and I feel like throwing her into oc x canon romance too soon would negate that. ALSO she is NOT a part of my TCOAV au!!! i mean. im probably gonna still do fun stuff where she could interact with my ocs from there since im an au fanatic, but- yeah. tcoav is a story more focused on Yuu Shi, and I feel that would also take away from important parts of Isola's character and growth. tis an excuse to try a new oc profile format too <333

that all being said and on a somewhat less related note. i wanna make a comic of her so badly. fuCK. evaporates into thin air. thank u for coming to my ted talk.

Tag list :D

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere @justm3di0cr3

@thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @qsoap

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind @gimmeurmoneyagh

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Rightfully His ❙ TP Optimus Prime x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: Smut ( Fingering and spike penatration ) low angst, possessive behaviour, jealous behaviour, size difference and robot x human. NSFW 18+.

Notes: You people are sluts for dom Optimus, and I don't blame any of you. He a snack! Um, so, here you go you filthy animals.🥰

Also to add, Optimus Prime is using mass-displacement, though he's still large, if you get what I mean. I didn't want this to be a repeat from the first one I did so that's why I went with this approach.

A day at the beach sounded perfect. Optimus was kind enough to drive you there himself. You enjoy spending time with him. Though once there he would need to remain in his vehicle mode while you take a dip.

Wearing your favourite bathing suit you take a dive and enjoy yourself, waving at Optimus with a beaming smile which everyone will see as you waving at a truck. Not weird at all.

While you were enjoying yourself a few guys approached you. They introduced themselves as you did too, making small talk. They were nice, and the casual talk turns into flirting, and you can't help but beam in return with a flushed face.

It's not often guys flirt with you so it was kind of nice to have it happen, though you weren't really looking for any kind of relationship at the moment. You already had your eyes on someone but you doubted they felt the same back, so you didn't hold your breath about it.

For now you enjoy the attention from these guys.

Not aware, Optimus watches. Being in his vehicle mode you couldn't tell he was glaring hard at the guys, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and hide you from their prying eyes.

What bothers him more is that you're enjoying the attention.

It's not until afterwards that you finally leave the beach and jog towards Optimus' truck form. He stares at your breasts under the bikini bouncing with each move and that makes him groan lowly.

"That was just what I needed. Thanks Optimus, it was really nice of you to drive me." You say happily as I put the towel on the leather seat and sat on it so you don't get too wet or sand everywhere.

This was a last night thing so you didn't bring any spare clothes.

"So, you had fun?" Optimus asks through a hint of dullness, which you didn't pick up on right away.

"So much fun!" You continue to beam softly before relaxing against the seat. "So, my place? Wouldn't want you returning to base at a late hour."

"Of course." Optimus can only sigh before leaving the beach with the sunset setting across the long strip of road. The drive is perhaps an hour from your place, so you get comfortable.

Optimus watches you as he drives, stretched out on the seat wearing only your bikini, skin damp as the setting sun glitters across you. He notices your perky nipples through your thin top. He lets out a low groan, forcing himself to rev his engine to try and hide it, which doesn't work as you pick up on this.

"Are you alright?" You question curiously.

"I'm fine." His answer was dull and that's when you start noticing his odd behaviour.

"You don't sound fine." You point out, more curious as you sit up more against the seat. "What's wrong?"

Optimus knew he wasn't able to hide it anymore, not after so long. "Those men from the beach, they seemed very friendly with you."

"Oh those guys? Yeah I guess they were. It's nice to be noticed honestly." You can't help but giggle lightly.

"You liked the attention they gave you." He adds and that's when you furrow your brows. He goes on before you can answer. "You were friendly back, smiling, blushing. Do you often flirt with other men like that?" Now this is weird to you.

"Um...I don't know, I guess? It's not everyday I have guys flirting with me. Why does that bother you?" You can't help but cross your arms.

It was quiet for a moment before he finally answered. "I don't want you flirting with other men, or accepting such behaviour from them towards you." He can't be serious?

You can't help but let out a scoff. "Seriously? Optimus, it's harmless flirting. Besides, why do you care? It's not like we're dating." You answer through an annoyed pout.

It's Optimus. He's the one you've got your eyes on. From the moment you both first met you've been overly fascinated by him, and you're already friendly with him, taking any chance to spend time with the big bot. But you were both completely different and you don't think he felt the same way towards you, so you never advanced to push your friendship any further.

However, now it seems things are getting on thin ice.

"Jesus Christ, you sound so jealous. No, you don't get to be jealous, alright? If I'm going to flirt with guys then I'm going to flirt!" You are honestly annoyed. How dare he!

"No." His simple answer doesn't settle well with you.

"No?"

"No. You won't. That's an order." This is getting out of hand.

"An order? No, you don't get to order me around! We're not dating!" You had to repeat again.

"Are you refusing to follow my order?" You have no idea what's wrong with him, or why he is behaving like this. Surely he doesn't have feelings for you?

"Yes...I'm disobeying your order, Optimus Prime! Fuck you!" You lose your temper as you shout, feeling both angry and emotional.

Suddenly the seat belt tightens around your body and pins you against the leather seat causing the air in your to be pushed out.

"Optimus?" You can't help but whisper his name, staring at the dashboard as if that's where he is staring at you from while he drives.

"I'm taking you back to base." He simply answers, tone casual and dark at once.

Swallowing thickly you try to adjust yourself but he made it hard with just how tight the seat belt was on you and he wasn't going to loosen his hold on you.

"N-no, I said take me home." You remind him but he refuses.

"No. You need to be taught a lesson, and reminded." This get's your heart racing. What is he talking about?

"Lesson? Reminded? Of what?" You can't help but question.

"That you're mine."

His? What the hell is he saying?

You couldn't move and you heart rate wouldn't slow down. Optimus has never spoken to you like this before and that kind of scared you. He is acting possessive, as if you really did belong to him but you didn't. Right?

The rest of the drive was dead quiet. You can't bring yourself to say anything or even struggle, and your heart rate never once slowed down.

Once returning no one else was around you figured this out. Optimus transformed with you still inside him which he's never done before. It makes you yelp in surprise before oyu find yourself in his servo.

He doesn't look down at you as he walks into his quarters and over to his berth where he finally places you. Stepping back he stares, watching you. You are still damp from the beach and in your bikini you can only sit there and stare back, breathing heavily, wondering just what he is thinking.

Finally he moves towards you. He sat on the berth right beside you making your breath hitch, before something happened you didn't think possible. His large frame starts shifting, shrinking himself until he is at her level.

The sudden action leaves you speechless, unable to form words as you stare at him. He still has that firm stare on him and you go to say something but he cuts you off.

"Remember, you're here so I can remind you who you belong to." Your response is to give a nervous nod, but you can't help the thrill that burns through your core.

"Optimus, you sound upset?" You manage to say through a shaky breath. "Have I hurt you?"

"You have." His answer is not what you expect. "For a long time I've admired you, wanted you, but I saw you felt something towards me but I feared I might've been wrong. Seeing you with those humans, that bothered me. I don't want you doing that anymore."

"Anymore? So...what does this mean? What am I to you?"

"You're mine. That's what."

Suddenly he leans closer and you find yourself laying back on the berth where he had laid a blanket for you. He's hovering across your shivering body, his shadow consuming you.

"What are you doing?" You whisper through a heated gasp. Your body was reacting in a whole different way, one that is arousal.

"What I've wanted to do for a long time." Suddenly, he kisses you.

You can only let out a muffled yelp against his lips, which are oddly enough soft and warm. You respond through a low throaty moan, hand sliding up against his cheek plating as you savour his lips. You've imagined this for so long but never thought it would be this beautiful to feel the primes lips against your own.

Optimus responds back through a deep moan himself before gently pushing his glossa inside your mouth making you gasp and return the same with your own tongue. Both your hands were against him, caressing his face and slowly deepening the kiss more.

You love him. That's right. As silly as it might sound, you have been deeply in love with Optimus for a long while. But now, he was your obsession, an addiction you craved. All this time he wanted you and you had no idea. He was good at hiding it. Not anymore.

His servos move across your body, dancing over your quivering skin before feeling his digits tug at your bikini bottoms, the lace flying loose as he tosses them aside. Next is your top and that is gone pretty quickly with some help from you.

Bare naked, you wrap your arms around his neck and move your thighs up over his hips, grinding yourself against his plating which causes him to moan back in approval.

You need him, you want him, you ache for him.

"Optimus..." His name whispers from your lips as his mouth moves to your neck where he gently nips against your tender skin. "Feels so good."

"I only want you to feel good, and to know only I can ever do this to you." He says softly before moving his servo down to your core where he rubs his digit between your folds before gently pushing one inside your depths.

The sudden feel of his thick digit makes your back arch and he doesn't stop there, pushing further and curling into your clenching walls.

You respond perfectly, hips arching up and grabbing hold onto his shoulder pads, moaning loudly without any care who might hear you, and it didn't seem to bother Optimus either.

"I want everyone to know you belong to me, y/n." He says once again, as if you had forgotten. His digit pumps into you before he adds a second, stretching you so nicely. "I want you to be mine. Do you want me to be yours?"

"Yes!" You answer with glee and without doubt. "You, I want you!"

Optimus smiles hearing this. "Good."

He removes his digits from you and you grab hold of his servo, bringing it back up and sucking at his moist digits, letting out a low moan as you taste yourself.

Optimus lets out a low growl of approval as his vents kick in, metal heating up as his throbbing cable presses against his panel, demanding to be released.

You feel him rutting gently against your bare core, moaning loudly as your swollen clit grind against his plating. You needed him inside you, now!

"Optimus," you whisper his name into his audio before finishing, "Fuck me."

Any self control was gone.

You hear the sound of metal shifting, Optimus as well, before suddenly feeling the warm tarped tip of his cable pressing against your core and moving within, not holding back as he fills you completely, flushing his hips against you firmly.

The sudden fullness feeling his throbbing spike invade you is an experience you only ever imagined, and it's nothing compared to the real thing. He fills you so much, to the point you hiss through a moan and move your hand to your belly where you feel the tightness, only to gasp when you feel a bulge caused by Optimus.

"So full..." You moan out. "Feels good."

"Y/n." Optimus whispers your name as his optics flash through the arousal he was feeling building through him.

"Please move, I need to feel you fuck me, please." You plead while you caress his face under your hands, biting your lips as you clench around his more get him going.

Optimus does as you want, or what he wants, whichever it is. He rolls his hips back before driving forward again, pushing more deep beautiful moans from your plump lips.

His pace doesn't flatter as you wrap you legs tightly around his rocking hips, tugging him against you more as you hands grip into whatever armour plating you can get your hands on.

You feel every ridge of his throbbing spike brush along your inner walls, the tip pressing up against your belly, bobbing with each thrust Optimus gives you.

All you can do is pant and hold on, embracing your desires and what you've dreamed of now finally coming true. If only you knew he could change his size, perhaps you might've said something sooner about your strong feelings towards him and avoided the fight you two had.

It doesn't matter. The past is the past, and this is now, moving forward.

Optimus lets out long groans as he fills you over again before adjusting himself a little, and gaining a better angle before his movements become more firm and short.

The sound of his soft metal slapping against your damp skin filling both your ears and his audios added to the growing pleasure between you both.

One servo grips into your hip as he sets a more firmer pace, grunting out as you clench more around him, making it very difficult for him to hold himself from finishing so soon.

But you want it, to feel his fluids fill you deeply right now. You'll have other opportunities to explore and experience another time. This won't be the only time that you know.

"Please, Optimus, I want you to fill me so badly! Don't hold back, please. Just let me feel it all, please! I'm yours! Only yours!" You can't help but chant over again through your arousal as you feel yourself already nearing your orgasim.

Through your chanting Optimus lifts your hips up and ruts against your core, speed strong as his vents kick in and throat moans grow more furiously.

You let out a half broken sobbed cry of bliss as you suddenly feel your orgasim crush through you, and Optimus at the same time let out a strong burst of energy as he fills you deeply with his fluids, belly full of his spike and the warm liquid he spills within.

Holding on you relish every second, body shaking through the after shocks of your orgasim before eventually he slowly pulls out from you, feeling so empty now as some of his fluids follow behind.

In your orgasim daze you didn't realise that Optimus had turned back to his normal size self and held you close in his warm servo.

As you lay in his servo you curl your body around his digit before he brings you closer to his face where he gives you a soft nuzzle making you smile and hum in return.

Even after being in control and possessive over you, he also has some loving aftercare for you in store. He cares about you deeply, you know this, and you care about him.

"You'll always be mine. Understood?" Optimus says tenderly and you can only nod softly, having no complaints about that.

"Always. Does this mean we're dating?"

"How about I take you on a date?" The offer makes your belly fill with warmth.

"I would love that."

"Then we're dating." He confirms proudly.

You are rightfully his.

[cloudraker]

What would the tfp autobots (your pick) reactions would be if their neutral NB cybertonian ally goes, "Oh? You didn't know? I have a Conjux now :)" and brings the motherfucker predaking.

But hey! Atleast the predacon is a green flag. The man would do anything for the reader, respects them, and is utterly smitten. At that point the autobots wouldn't have to worry about him anymore since reader is their ally

This has been rotting in my inbox for so long,, anon if you see this thank you for your patience

TFP Preadaking with a Neutral S/O

Under the cut :)

Setting this after the war/the return to Cybertron

Assuming you didn't fight in the war, you're probably the most normal person he knows. You're probably the most normal person on Cybertron at this point. The others don't think much of it when you start spending more and more time out by yourself- there's a lot to take in now that the war is over and cybertron is so different

Your little adventures start at a few hours, then it's half a day, and before long you're gone for days at at time. That's when they start asking questions

Where have you been going? What could possibly be so important that you go missing for days at a time when there is- what do you mean you met somebody?

Having to explain that yes you met somebody and yes they're on Cybertron and well you don't know if it's a good idea if they all met him. It's all very "he goes to a different school you don't know him"

They eventually get you to agree and when you actually bring him around the Autobots are.. well they sure are there and that sure is a guy you've brought home

Predakind, to his credit, is on his best behavior. He's standing behind you (a respectable distance away from them) as you talk the others out of shooting him then and there

He doesn't stay long, much to your disappointment. A few conversations with both sides reveals their past history, leaving you caught in the middle.

The overall consensus on the Autobot side is "you're an adult, we can't stop you but it's also a really bad idea-"

Ratchet would be the most understanding- which isn't saying much. He's upset but he also knows you don't have the same feelings towards Predaking as he and the other Autobots do- to you, he's just some guy you met. While he makes his many grievances known, he also makes it clear that if anything happens you'll still have people supporting you

Magnus is.. conflicted. On one hand, part of him is glad that there's some sense of normalcy for somebody- a hope that things will be okay. On the other hand, he doesn't have an other hand

He doesn't count as an Autobot but Knockout would warn you against the predacon, calling him things like dangerous and a brute while also trying to dig any gossip out of you. Will begrudgingly make sure you're polished and shiny before you go out if you ask him for help. Very "you're going out dress like that?"

Once they get more familiar with the idea, Predaking starts making the occasional appearance

At first it's just flying by overhead, letting you know he's still around even if you haven't been able to see each other much lately. Then it's coming to meet you when you've got plans and then he's making very awkward small talk with Bulkhead while he waits for you to come out

Everybody starts to relax a bit when they see just how good he is to you. This hulking beast of a robot, built for fighting and dragged into a time not meant for him, bending to take your hand and kiss your knuckles whenever he sees you. How you never come back with a so much as a scratch on your pain and only with good things to say

He gets some serious side-eye when he enters the base for the first time, and everybody is a bit tense, but it (thankfully) all goes well

He's eventually asked to help with some repairs or some mundane task and- while somewhat reluctant- he complies. For you, of course, in an attempt to make life just a little bit easier

It's a very, very slow journey to having both your partner and the Autobots start to build even a semblance of trust, but you're willing to put in the work and Predaking is willing to put in the work for you

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Michael Myers - NSFW Alphabet

tw: mentions of cnc, knife play, spanking, choking

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Has no concept of this prior to meeting you, but Michael does have a territorial base instinct whereby after he’s had you, he does not want you out of his reach for several hours, minimum. Sometimes days. Weeks. But if you teach him what matters to you in terms of aftercare, he’ll do it. A bit robotic when he’s carrying you to a bath or cleaning you up, but it’s the fact he does it based on what you’ve expressed you need, rather than any personal gain - he does it for you, solely.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your face and your waist/stomach; Michael likes being able to read your every micro expression and communicate without your words as well as his own, often rests his head on your stomach when cuddling, and is usually holding your waist when fucking you into the next week.

He’s indifferent to his own body, but utilises his hands more than anything, so would choose that if he had to pick.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Likes smearing it over your kiss-swollen lips. Collecting it on his fingers to push back into your holes.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You know if he pulls your panties to the side rather than ripping them off, it means he’s going to fill you, then leave you filled and let you drip into those panties for the rest of the day. Sit in it. It’s part of those animal instincts, a means of marking you with his scent, his seed.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Nothing prior to meeting you, but doesn’t really need it. Just follows instincts to clap cheeks.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Bending you over the couch. Undoubtedly. Lifting you up by your throat? Spanking? Controlling the pace? Yeah.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s the pioneer of the sassy man apocalypse - in a deadly silent way - but he’s not goofy. Most you’ll get is him tilting his mask to the side in an expressionless means of conveying “bffr”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Untamed jungle and has no desire to keep that shit trimmed at all. Has no thoughts to his body hair or anyone else’s, for that matter.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As intimate as he’s capable of being, but Michael has no “romantic” feelings in the traditional sense. It’s all about ownership for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not of interest to Michael at all. If he’s not got you to fuck, the urge doesn’t cross his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Say it w me now: cnc !!!

But also knife play, dominating you in any capacity, choking, spanking, marking you (bruises in the shape of his fingerprints/hands + hickeys), blindfolding you so he can take his mask off and ruin you, and obviously wearing a mask in general. First time you wore your own mask and stood w his same silence? He was like a feral animal. Loved that shit.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere he can have you without anyone seeing. Not opposed to taking you in a public place if people can only see him pounding something, but cant see he’s pounding you, specifically.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Doesn’t really have the traditional sense of a libido, more like animal instincts. Usually Michael just comes home and bends you over the nearest piece of furniture, if he feels like it. Anytime you get needy, he indulges you. But in terms of what actually gets him going, the closest thing would be you submitting to him. Obeying wordless instructions from him. Doesn’t necessarily “turn him on” so to speak, but satisfies him in a primal way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Expose you where anyone else can see. Michael doesn’t feel love like people do, what he feels for you is more akin to ownership and possession, being entertained by your submission. Keeping that in mind, anything that involves sharing you (even just a view) is not something he’ll even consider.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

If he’s receiving, he’s literally just standing there like:

(-_-)

/ | \

/\

And don’t get me wrong, seeing you on your knees for him? That does it for him big time. But Michael actually prefers giving (you’ll have to persuade him to take his mask off and blindfold yourself/keep your eyes closed - whatever your kinky preference x). More often than not, prefers to pin you against a wall with your legs over his shoulders, so he can stand at his full height with his face between your thighs. He’s all about that. You heard it here first folks: Michael Myers is a munch.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Typically fast and rigid, not exactly soft or tender, but sometimes in the post-nut relief Michael traces your facial features with his fingers. Something about feeling his own cum dripping out of you brings out the soft side of him <333

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

So down it’s diabolical. Will not hesitate to bend you over anytime you need it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Michael doesn’t have much of a concept of “risks”. He’s down to try absolutely anything you suggest to him, but he also wont ever suggest anything himself both because he doesn’t talk and because he doesn’t care. If he gets to pound you into next week, he’s satisfied. Anything you choose to add to that only adds to his experience because you make more noise/squirm/cum more for him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bro is immortal and never wastes energy running so you KNOW he’s got that pace FR. Will go as many rounds as it takes for you to pass out and will probably carry on using you after you’ve passed out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not so much toys but props like knives, obviously.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Doesn’t understand teasing. Knows you tease the fuck out of him and it pisses him off which leads to him ruining you. More to teach you a lesson than because you’ve actually riled him up, because it doesn’t really work for him in that way.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Apart from heavy breathing and clapping cheeks, you’re not getting much sound out of Mike.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a thing for sneaking (breaking) into your house at night and fucking you while you sleep (w established consent in advance, of course).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s a tall guy, so above average length, definitely above average girth. Does not wear pants under his boiler suit so you’ll see a bulge on the regular.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Feel like this has been more or less covered by previous answers, but Michael doesn’t have a traditional libido. Just territorial instincts to own. So when that strikes, he takes, and if you need it, he’s always game.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

The Shape does not need to sleep.

[justanotherfluffreader]

what happens at the sleepover, may not stay at the sleepover

-- in which you let your new friends in on a secret... and xiangli yao hears something he wasn't meant to --

characters -> xiangli yao x gn!reader (ft. chixia, yangyang, baizhi) <-

content -> fluff, lowkey pining <-

warnings -> may be ooc (i only read main questline + moonchasing festival), minor spoilers for moonchasing festival quests, cursing (1 time) <-

wc -> 0.9k <-

a/n -> a random writing i wanted to do to celebrate the moonchasing festival + release of my favorite robot guy :) | reader is a rover insert <-

4:13 AM / Baizhi's apartment / Jinzhou, Huanglong

"Soooooo..." your red-haired friend started, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. You, Yangyang, Chixia, and Baizhi were sprawled out on the floor of Baizhi's bedroom. After hours of laughing, chatting, and typical sleepover activities, the four of you were almost ready to sleep. The sun was going to be up in just over an hour, but a certain Patroller was still full of energy. "Any of you.. ya'know, interested in anyone lately?"

As she said this, you felt a suspiciously sharp gaze coming from across the room. You picked your head up from your pillow, just in time to see Baizhi's eyes shift to stare at the ceiling.

"Hey, what was that about?" you asked, half-joking, but half-serious. "Have something you want to share with the group?"

She shivered. "Please, don't ever say that again. You sounded just like my old professor at the Academy just now."

The four of you laughed, but there was just one thought going through your mind. "Does she know...?"

"Oh, come on! I'm sure at least one of you has your eye on somebody... Yangyang?"

"Um... nobody in particular." Despite having "nobody in mind", her face flushed and a light pink began to appear on her cheeks. Nevertheless, Yangyang had always been somewhat secretive when it came to romance, so you decided to just let her be.

"Baizhi? C'mon, we all saw that look you gave Y/N."

Her long, black hair seemed to ripple as she fervently shook her head. "Don't tell me you're serious. I spend most of my time at the Academy, and falling for a co-worker is just asking for trouble. Besides, there aren't any good options there anyways."

You could feel your eye twitch slightly at her last words. "No good options? Are you sure?"

"Seems like our dear Y/N begs to differ. Go on, surely there must be someone you've got your eye on?" Chixia egged you on.

You sighed. "Fine... if you insist. Have you met Xiangli Yao?"

"WHAT???" the others looked at you in shock, almost screaming.

You looked absolutely mortified. "Keep it down! You're going to wake people up!"

"...He's good, right?"

"You mean the Principal Investigator? How do you know him?" Yangyang wondered aloud.

"Ohh, I get it. Wasn't he that guy you kept talking to at the festival?" Chixia reasoned.

"Yeah... we did meet at the festival. We've been talking for the past few days, and he's been so sweet and caring. He's gentle, and smart, and his voice is so soothing, not to mention his looks..."

You went on and on, and the other three exchanged a knowing glance.

"Oh Y/N... you're so in love with him."

Realizing how much you had been talking, you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Fuck." You put your head in your hands. "I really do love him."

4:25 AM / Xiangli Yao's apartment / Jinzhou, Huanglong

Finally, it was time for Xiangli Yao to go to sleep. Working on a new research paper, he had been working almost entirely through the night, and by the time he realized the time it was too late to take more than a long nap.

He yawned, shuffling over to the other side of his bedroom to turn off the lights. Sliding into bed, he closed his eyes and prepared to rest. All of a sudden, he heard a shriek from the room below him.

"WHAT???"

...Hm. One of those voices sounded familiar, and that was when it hit him. The room above him belonged to Baizhi, a fellow researcher at the Academy. More importantly to him, though, was that she was one of your close friends since your arrival in Jinzhou. Worried, he sat up, debating whether or not to go check up on her.

"These walls are definitely thin... likely not a sign of danger, Jinzhou is rather safe, perhaps just shock? But at what?"

He would have just gone right back to sleep, had he not heard your voice.

"Keep it down! You're going to wake people up!"

Oh, your voice. He loved the way you spoke, from sweet, rich tone of your voice to the way you pronounced every syllable. Even then, your panicked voice sounded the way honey tastes.

He was intrigued. As much as he scolded himself for being too nosy, he desperately wanted-- no, needed-- to know what sounded like a secret of yours.

Gently pressing his ear to the floor, he tried to listen for a hint as to what you were discussing in the room below.

"...the Principal Investigator?"

That was the moment he realized that you were talking about him. The researcher pushed his head closer into the floor. He reasoned that if you were talking about him, secretly, then perhaps...

Perhaps he really would have a chance.

All throughout the Moon-chasing Festival, you had been by his side, helping him uncover the meaning of people's wishes, including his own. Maybe it was the time you had spent together, or the fact that you now knew so much about him and his life, but he couldn't help but be attracted to you.

He listened closely, pink spreading across his face and heart racing as he heard you ramble about everything about him. By the end of it, Xiangli Yao was lying on the floor with a huge grin on his face.

"Oh, Y/N... if only you knew. I'm in love with you, too."

Part 2? lmk

as always thanks for reading <3

[kushnovice]

Spinning My World

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark! Reader

Synopsis: Reader tends to the avengers wounds constantly and when Tony opens an emotional wound in the reader, Bucky is there to help.

wc: 2.4k

Warnings: my first bucky fic, medical, wounds, tending to wounds, sibling rivalry, mention of dead parents, fluffy love, slow-burn

AN: Female reader, fluffy, lots of mistakes, self indulgent (Pictures are not mine nor are any characters part of this)

What makes the earth go round? to most people it's money, to others it's family. To me, it's love.

I grew up with Tony Stark, my older brother. He was never that big on affection which was something he picked up from our parents and because of that, Tony and I aren't as close as we once were before our parents died. I spend most of my time making sure the house is always put together and cooking food for Tony and Pepper. I always feel a little guilty as I haven't achieved as much as my older brother and living with him and all of his fancy things just rubs it in. I also spend a lot of time studying. Since we have the money, I am attending an Ivy League school online. Unlike Tony, I don't like robots and technology, I prefer to help people. I am majoring in Medical Science as well as minoring in Psychology, which the amount of work is unbearable.

I sigh as I close one of my textbooks, my notebook, and my laptop, leaving them on the desk in my room. I make my through the long winding halls and into the kitchen, the tiles on the floor leaving my feet cold as I walk. I flick on the light as I walk in and take a deep breath, finally feeling at peace. The kitchen was always my safe space since Tony never cooked for himself, neither did any of the avengers. It was my own tiny world of peace.

I smile softly to myself as I make my way to the sink, I start to wash my hands while humming a song. "Friday, can you play (song name)?" As the song starts playing, I feel more comfortable as I start pulling what I would need from the fridge and the cabinets. I then fill up a pot of water and put it on the stove to boil and preheat the oven before I start separating and seasoning the chicken. I then start to cut up some veggies before checking on the pasta that I am making. After everything is cooking, I take the time to dance in the kitchen, just enjoying the music and how it flows through my body. That was until I heard the door open. I jerk my head to see who it is, only to be stunned by the sight in front of me. There he was, the most beautiful creature this world had ever created, but he was drenched in blood. Without thinking, I walk right up to him and start to examine him from what I can see. "Oh buck, what happened this time?" I ask as I eye him up and down for injuries, feeling better after not finding any serious ones. Bucky sighed deeply, "The mission was hijacked. I'm not the only Injured one." I sigh deeply as I take the food out of the oven and put the veggies and sauce into the pasta. Then, without a second thought, i make my way to the medical clinic, which I pretty much run.

I put my coat on and wash my hands again before putting on gloves. I make my way into the emergency room that we have to see Tony laying on a gurney. I immediately start to cut his shirt and pants off as I examine his body, the deep wounds showing no mercy as they continue to bleed. I sterilize the wound and start stitching him up and taking my time to make sure it's perfect.

After a few hours, I was done with making sure Tony was alright and had checked out all of the other team members. I look at the clock and sigh deeply when I realize that it is close to 1 in the morning. I make my way through the winding hallways again and I stand outside of Buckys room. "Hey Buck, are you awake?" I ask softly knowing his super human hearing can pick up my voice, and sure enough because the door unlocks and slides open revealing that he had just got out of the shower. I blush slightly as i try not to stare at his bare chest, "oh um...sorry I was just coming to give you a quick check up..." I shuffle awkwardly at his door but he nods softly and lets me in his room.

The smell of Axe Body spray and Midsummers Night circle the room. I sit Bucky down as I start to stitch up a few of his wounds. It stays mostly silent, neither of us knowing what to talk about until Bucky speaks up, "aren't you tired?" I furrow my eyebrows, "why would I be tired?" Bucky sighs deeply, "we go on these missions almost daily and you're the only one who gives us medical help, isn't it tiring?" I look up from his stitches to smile softly at Bucky, "No, it's not tiring. If anything, it gives me a purpose and makes me a hero like you guys." I giggle to myself at how corny that sounded before going back to stich bucky up.

After I am done, I make sure I didn't miss any dry blood before I stand up, "make sure you eat dinner, I don't know if the others did yet but you need to eat." I smile at him to which he gives me a small smile at the end of his lips. "I did eat already, it was delicious." I smile at him as I watch him put his shirt back on, "good good, I tried a new recipe today so I'm glad it is good." I smile to myself thinking about how Bucky enjoyed my food. "Did you eat yet?" Bucky asks with a furrowed eyebrow and I'm left shocked, normally i'm the one asking that question. "I was about too, then all of that happened," I smile at Bucky but his facial expressions don't change this time. "You really should eat." I nod my head and start to make my way into the kitchen to see a huge mess of plates and bowls and forks all over the place and all of the food gone. "at least they liked it" I smile to myself as I shrug off my coat and take off my gloves, "Friday, some music please" I speak as I start to pick up the plates and bowls and utensil's and place them in the sink. I then pick up all the trash and wipe down the counter while dancing around the kitchen. I spend a few hours cleaning, until it is spotless before I turn off the music and realize I wasn't alone. As I go to grab my coat and turn off the light, I hear a voice, "Aren't you going to eat?" I whip my head around, looking for where the voice came from until I can see Bucky, just outside the door. "there was no more left, i'm glad everyone enjoyed it." I smile at him but he doesn't smile back, he makes his way into the kitchen and starts grabbing stuff. "woah woah woah what are you doing?" I ask as I watch him start up the stove. "You need to eat. More than any of us." Buckys voice is stern and emotionless but I can tell that he cares. "I'm alright, I'll be up in a few hours to cook breakfast anyways." I look at the time and then at Bucky who then turns to me with furrowed eyes again his eyes studying me and trying to figure me out as he looks me up and down. "Why do you cook for everyone? Why do you go out of your way for everyone? I don't get how that benefits you." I sigh deeply, "I don't do it for me, I do it for you guys. You guys are heros and are saving the world every day. the least I can do is cook you guys a warm meal and make sure you guys don't get too hurt." "But why?" Bucky asks as he cracks open an egg and starts to cook it. "You guys deserve it, you deserve the best." I smile at him softly, watching his movements while I think. "Why do you save the world?" I ask while watching his movements. He seems relaxed and calm "Because if I can help save the world then there's hope to save myself." He speaks in a quiet whisper, "why do you save us? why are you so interested in medicine?" He asks with seriousness, trying to understand me better. "I was never taught self defense so I save the world in the only way I know, medicine." Bucky turns to look at me, "you don't give yourself enough credit, no one does." I can hear how he sighs softly. I let myself smile, knowing this was his way of showing he cared. Bucky finished cooking the food and he made two plates, setting one in front of me while he sat across the table from me. He immediately downs his food within seconds leaving me to take awhile to finish my food. When I'm finished eating, I grab our plates and put them in the dishwasher. When i make my way back into the dining room, Bucky is watching me as soon as I enter the room. "What? Is there food on my face?" I jokingly ask, with a smirk on my face as I make my way back to sit down. Bucky snorts softly at my comment, "No, I just don't get how someone could look so pretty after working for so many hours." Buckys voice is soft but his eyes are full of emotion as his hands fold on the table. I feel myself melt under his gaze as my cheeks start to burn, "Oh, uhm...thanks..." I giggle lightly, "You aren't too bad looking for someone who just got stitched up." I reply causing bucky to be taken aback.

"Why are you two up at 2 in the morning?" Tony asks as he walks into the dining room in his black robe that is barely covering his bare chest and his blazers. Tony somehow still has his shades on as well as his slippers on as he sets down some coffee and a sandwich at the table and sits down. "I was just making sure your sister ate after giving everyone medical exams." Bucky replied as he stared blankly at tony as he ate. "Interesting." Tony replied quickly as he started to eat. "I'm glad that your mission didn't go to badly, not many people were injured." I smiled at Tony as I recall the injuries that everyone had got. Tony sighed as he swallowed the food in his mouth, "Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?" I roll my eyes at how immature Tony still is after all of these years. "Somebody's cranky." I snort to myself, Tony glares daggers at me. "Somebody needs to shut up." I smile at Tony, now enjoying fucking with him. "I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel." I smirk at Tony, thinking I got the better up. "Frankly, I don't care. Just like how he never cared about Mom and Dad. You know who killed them right?" Tony asks as he glares between Bucky and I. "If you're insinuating that Bucky killed our parents then fuck you!" I yell in Tony's face, not able to control my anger as I get up and storm off. Bucky looks at Tony as Tony finishes his sandwich, not purposefully glaring but staring deeply at him causing Tony to get uncomfortable and scramble out of the room.

Bucky sighs deeply as he makes his way to my room, thinking of the right words to say as he ends up right outside of my door. "Hey...I know Tony's words really hurt but I'd like to tell you my story, not what you've heard from files but my life the way I lived it, when I had control of my life." Bucky expected no response honestly, who would want to talk to their parents murderer? Surprisingly the door swung open as Bucky looked in at my small trembling figure on the floor, a pang in his heart caused him to lose his breath seeing her in such pain.

I lift my head to meet Buckys soft eyes as he moves to sit on the bed next to me. His voice was kind but also firm as he told me all about his life, from his time in Brooklyn with Steve all the way through Hydra, he spoke about my parents last almost as if to save me the pain. "Your parents...they were a mission I had to carry out while apart of Hydra, or else I would have died as well as them...I wish I never had too..." Bucky sighs deeply as he looks at the ground. "You don't have to be my friend or even be nice to me, but I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt anyone." Bucky softly got up, expecting to be kicked out before he felt my hands wrapped around his human arm. "I want to be your friend. It hurts knowing that you did that to my parents and I don't think that hurt will ever go away, but I do know that it wasn't you, that you didn't do it on your own will. I forgive you, Buck." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around Bucky's human hand, taking his warmth from him as it comforts my shaking body as I am able to relax into my bed and into Bucky, feeling safe and comfortable for once. I don't remember what happened after that other than my eyes forcing themselves closed as Bucky's mechanical arm softly strokes my hair.

I wake up to the sun shining brightly in my eyes causing me to instantly rub my eyes. I stretch with a small groan, wishing to be asleep still as I reach my arms above my head. I hear a rough chuckle beside me and open my eyes to see Bucky smirking down at me, "Morning, Doll." I feel my face go red at the nickname. I roll over to face him in the bed, "I'm sorry that I kept you here all night." I apologize softly as I yawn the sleepy feeling away. He smiled softly down at me, the golden sun reflecting off of his eyes making it look like tigers eye. "You have nothing to apologize for, darling." He used his fingers to swoop the stray strands of hair out of my face. "It was the best sleep I have gotten in awhile." He confessed as he pulled me a little closer, his body heat keeping me warm as he smiled down at me cheekily. "Don't smile at me like that, you know it drives me crazy..." I giggle at him softly as I place my hand on his face before leaning in. Bucky closed the gap as he took my lips in his, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in closer as he chuckles into the kiss.

"How else would I make your world spin?"

[milk-breadx]

with a ring pop, i'll get down on one knee - m. s.

mike schmidt x gn!reader

Fluff! ??? to Fiancés?!

A late night trip and you three stop by a convenience store. Abby finally gives you two the push you needed.

word count: 1,440 words

warnings: movie spoilers?

"Okay, okay, okay. 80's or 50's?"

"Really? These are the best options?"

"We've been here for a while, I think we've exhausted all other interesting options." You reach for another bottle of soda, opening it and letting the fizz settle down before taking a sip. "Now, pick,"

The two of you were perched on top of the trunk of his car. Very late at night, the nearest landmark being a nearby convenience store where you bought some chips and drinks to enjoy while you wait 'till you both weren't feeling droopy to continue your road trip. Abby, sound asleep at the back seat, who said she wanted to "stay up with you guys", was very eager to go on this trip. Especially since she rarely gets to go out with you and her big brother. Poor thing fell asleep and you didn't have the heart to wake her, so Mike stayed to watch her while you went to purchase some refreshments. Now, at the back of his car, you two talked nonsense for what felt like forever.

"Uhh, the latter." He takes a chip from the bag and eats it, all the while your eyebrows furrow at his answer. 

"Really?" The tone was laced with disbelief and you eagerly wait for his defense.

"What? You'd rather pick the 80's?"

"Uh, yeah? against the 50's who wouldn't?" You playfully nudge him on the shoulder, unknowingly bringing up his memories from his last job as a night guard at the pizza place. Your eyes widened when the realization hit you. "...Oh."

"Idiot." Mike flicks your forehead and you raise your palm to cover it after he does. You remembered that morning at the hospital when you received his call and rushed there only to find him injured, officer Vanessa unconscious, and Abby scared to leave his side. You could've sworn you almost passed out after hearing what happened a few hours before.

Ghost children possessing robot animals? Murderer who wears a yellow bunny suit? It all sounded funny but the serious looks in their eyes and their very REAL injuries made you believe them. Since then, you've been more active in helping them out. Whether it be moving in with them to help with the bills and keeping Abby company while Mike's out to look for a job or planning something for the three of you to enjoy, all to get them to recover and forget the whole ordeal about the pizzeria.

So now, 7 months after the incident, Mike got a job, and you both saved up some money to go on a trip for the weekend.

"I didn't realize! Sorry!" You sheepishly replied and Mike gave a small laugh. That moment made you pause for a bit. Mike had no time to relax for a long time, so it was refreshing to see him smile and laugh.

"When do you think we should get going? It's probably midnight by now and I am dying to sleep. Y'know? While you drive us the rest of the way there." He says and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

"Hey! You said you were gonna stay up with me like I stayed up when you drove!" Mike shakes head and continues eating his chips. 

"No, no, I don't remember making that kind of agreement." A playful smirk starts making its way to his face. "I do recall you insisting to stay awake with me even though I said you should go to sleep," This little-

"Yeah! Because we're traveling at night, can't have us end up in a ditch somewhere?!"

The car door opens and shuts. Turning around, you see Abby rubbing her eyes as she makes her way towards both of you. Mike calls out to her and helps her sit in between the two of you.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Her droopy eyes turn to you and then to Mike.

"You looked like you were deeply asleep. Sorry, did we wake you?" Grabbing a cold bottle of water, bought specifically for Abby, you tried opening it. Noticing this, Mike grabs the bottle and opens it before handing it to his sister. You whispered "I loosened it for you" to him before Abby speaks again.

"No. But are we there yet?"

"Not yet. We stopped here because we were getting sleepy and wanted to rest for a bit before we go." You handed her the plastic bag that had 2 bags of chips left for her to pick. "You excited to be there already?"

She picks one from the bag and opens it, grabbing a chip and eating it. "Yeah. Can we go on more trips soon?"

You and Mike share a look, unsure how to respond, so he answers for you. "We'll see, Abs,"

She doesn't respond to that. Instead, she asks you another question. "Are you going to keep staying with us? I like when you're around."

"Of course. I'll be here until Mike kicks me out." She chuckles at your response before turning to Mike. "You're not gonna kick them out, are you?"

"We'll see, Abs."

You playfully glare at him and he shrugs. 

"Why don't you two just get married?"

Abby continues to eat, unaware how her question sounded to the both of you, but aware of your unique kind of friendship where borderline lovers was the most appropriate thing to actually call what you and Mike had. The fumble of words from you two comes quick but Abby doesn't take back her suggestion.

"You two have known each other for years and we've been living together for months now. I know you two have arguments sometimes, but you always work it out." She whispers the last part but the both of you hear it clear as day. "Plus you said you like each other-"

Two voices yelled out, "Abby!" You and Mike look at each other, the realization setting in that she's right. When you two looked away, silence ensued. Mike was the first to speak. "Maybe...maybe marriage... is too..."

"Fast?"

"Yeah,"

Abby's smile grows but she's tired of waiting for the two of you awkwardly fumble your words and just wants the two of you to get together. Yes, she's noticed the way you take care of her and Mike and how Mike takes care of you. How the house has been much livelier with you around and how well the three of you have been since living under the same roof.

Mike's also noticed how much better the two of them have been since you've gotten closer to them. He can't deny he's embarrassed but also flustered when the parents of Abby's classmates mistaken the both of you as her parents--A story for another time. He's open to the idea. Looking back to the times you two stayed up to watch some popular sitcom that was playing on the TV or messing up a new dish you three wanted to try, Mike really felt at ease those days. And the fact that Abby loves you too is an added bonus.

"Just propose already! You can get married years from now, just ask them already!" Abby grabs his shirt and you laugh as you see her futile attempt to shake him. 

Mike sees you and realizes he loves you. He cherishes you and wants nothing more than to see you smile and laugh over and over again. To be part of your life for the rest of his.

"Okay, okay, Abby stop." He grabs a hold of her hands before looking at you. "Will you-"

"You already don't have a ring, at least get down on one knee!" You laugh again at Abby.

Mike sighs and is ready to get up and down on the ground when he quickly runs to the convenience store. You and Abby share a look of confusion until he returns, unwrapping something in his hands. You couldn't see what it is until he got down on one knee and presented it to you.

He says your name softly and you get down from the trunk in front of him, smiling at the ring pop he's proposing with. "Will you marry me?"

You nod, giving him a small yes and let him put the ring pop on your ring finger. Too excited, Abby gets down and hugs you both so hard, you three almost topple over. But none of you cared. Abby was happy to see you and her big brother finally get together. Mike, relieved you said yes and was willing to be with him. You, happy to have these two brighten up your life.

I swear I was gonna finish that ushijima fanfic first but plans have changed and I have a new husband(a whole series was planned out in my delulu head)-

work by milk-breadx. DO NOT COPY/REPOST/MODIFY WORKS WITHOUT PERMISSION

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ I know how to make you sleep (Bang Chan) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Chan x gn reader

Genre/warnings : fluff, mentions of feeling numb but nothing serious,and soft smut? If that's a thing. Still exclusively 18+

Summary : After an overwhelming day outside, in the moment in which you should relax and rest, you can't sleep. Your loving boyfriend however, will help you get there.

Word count : 1.4k

A/n : This one was a chill one, just for comfort I guess? I'm sure many of you can relate to these type of feelings, but remember that sometimes shitty days happen for no reason at all, and that's okay. Just take care of yourselves <;3

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a weird day, that's for sure. In the morning you woke up as usual, made some breakfast, washed up then got dressed, and all that drill. Your boyfriend finally had a few days days of break from work and was still sleeping like a rock when your alarm rang.

You quickly turned it off and made sure to be as quiet as possible while waking up, even almost blindly pick out the clothes to wear, just because you didn't want to open the blinds or turn on any light in fear of disturbing his sleep.

Seeing Chan sleeping so peacefully and for a full night wasn't the most common thing, especially in very busy weeks like the ones that he just had. To be fair he did ask you to wake him up so that he could have breakfast with you and spend some time together before you left for work, but you still decided to not do it. He needed it and you truly didn't mind, if anything, it made you happy.

The reason for it to be a 'weird day' didn't have anything to do with you saying goodbye to your boyfriend or not, though, It was just one of those days in which you felt quite unmotivated, your work felt robotic and even the smallest human interactions bothered you for some reason.

Chan did wake up in the end though, quite a few hours after you had left, and texted you just saying how he would've liked to kiss you goodbye before you left, but also thanked you for letting him rest. That was the only thing that forced a small smile out of you and made you just slightly less numb. Other than that, you did truly feel like ten minutes were ten hours.

As soon as the work day came to and end you felt relieved, thinking that maybe the environment could've been the issue. So you came home, got welcomed with a kiss and a simple dinner by your boyfriend and then comfortably watched some tv with him before eventually going to sleep. Even after all that, you still felt that uneasy feeling in your stomach that wouldn't go away.

You felt quite frustrated, and a little bit disappointed. You really thought that coming home to the person that you love the most, in your lovely home, would maybe fix it? You definitely felt way better than when you were outside, but still it wasn't quite enough.

Your boyfriend did notice of course, but decided to not mention it, giving you a little space. He knew for sure that there was nothing wrong between you two or anything else in your lives recently, so he thought that maybe you would have slept it off. But that turned out to be another issue when you realized that even after a couple of hours after you layed in bed, snuggled to his chest under the covers, your eyes were still not closing.

You did try, for sure. But without success. After a while you started to feel very hot, so you gently removed yourself from Chan's warm body and then also pulled aside the covers. You laid on your back with your forearm covering your eyes, slowly developing a headache. Then you got cold again, so you pulled the covers back up. But then again you got thirsty, so you quietly huffed and got out of bed, walking to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

Your frustration just grew as the time passed and you still couldn't figure out what was wrong with you. You thought about it, about something anything. Work? Love? Health? A random news that you read? Anything. Everything was just fine, so why weren't you?

After a while you just gave up and went back to the bedroom, figuring that if anything at some point you would've just passed out from exhaustion. But as you stepped back in, you saw that Chan had woken up and was sleepily waiting for you, his head propped up with one arm on the pillow.

He looked so cute with slightly squinty eyes, fluffy disheveled hair and that small sweet smile of his.

"Hi" his frame was partially illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window blinds. You couldn't help but smile back a little, your head tilting to the side to mirror his.

"Hi, go back to sleep" you said, walking back to your side of the bed. He followed your movements with his gaze, immediately covering you with the sheets and pulling you to your side to face him.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong?" his thumb gently stroking up and down on your waist. You sighed softly, also placing your own hand on his side, suddenly feeling the need to touch him, almost as if to absorb some comfort.

"I don't know, that's the thing. I've just been feeling very numb, very uneasy, very... meh." you spoke, trying your best to voice out that odd feeling that has been following you throughout the day. He hummed softly, now stroking your side with his whole hand.

"It's okay, it happens sometimes. But until it's not due to any specific issue, then it's gonna pass." he replied, his brown eyes looking into yours "Do you need to cry a little?"

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head, "No, I truly just need to sleep it out. But I can't relax." you whined, nuzzling your face into the pillow in protest. He chuckled at your actions, then going silent for a few seconds.

After a while he gently pushed your side to make you lay on your back, his body sliding a little closer to yours, so that he was now towering over you. You looked up at him, slightly confused.

"I know how to make you sleep" he spoke lowly, making you shiver, words suddenly leaving you as you felt the mood change. He moved his gaze from your lips to your eyes, then down again. The hand that was previously on your waist started ti roam around a bit, caressing your stomach, then belly. You started to breathe a little deeper, anticipating his actions.

He felt of course and a faint smirk appeared on his face. His hand got inside your pants and started to touch you through the underwear. A small moan left your mouth, your eyes closing.

"Chan..." your voice trembling. He extended his other arm above your head, his fingers caressing your hair while he leaned his face close to yours, his nose nuzzling your cheek.

"Just relax, baby" he whispered, his tone surprisingly sweet despite the contrasting actions of his hand on you. You felt yourself getting wet and he must've felt it too, because after a few minutes of teasing he finally slid his hand inside your underwear and started to touch you directly. His rhytms was steady, almost torturing, but you did feel more pressure on you.

Your own hand went up to grab his clothed arm, suddenly feeling the need to hold on to something. Your breaths were also starting to be a little closer to each other, a few whines escaping your mouth. This slow torture must've been working though, because you were definitely starting to feel your eyes heavy.

"Baby, p-please..." you whined, tilting your chin up to try and kiss him. Your mind was so dizzy though that you just ended up nuzzling him, your eyes not even being able to stay open anymore. He did it for you, gently pressing his lips to yours, starting a slow and lazy kiss.

His fingers gradually started to quicken but never in a rough manner, just enough to help you build up to your release. Your grip on his arm tightened, moaning into his mouth.

"It's okay, baby...let go for me" his voice deep and comforting. He went back to kissing you while gving the last few strokes that finally made you reach your orgasm.

Your body spasmed slightly, your legs closing in on his hand that was still moving just enough to help you come down.

"Good baby.." he whispered, "Did so well for me" he kept praising you sweetly, while gently retreating his hand from your panties. He wiped his fingers on his shirt, not really caring at that point. When he did look up to check on you though, you had already fallen asleep. A relaxed expression on your beautiful face, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape in complete relaxation.

He smiled at you and softly kissed your temple before settling comfortably on his side, one arm draped around your torso and the other still behind your head. He closed his eyes and fell asleep pretty quickly again, finally satisfied and peaceful now that he knew that you were okay.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.