#sorry this was so long but i had many thoughts

[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

[backfliips]

Answered below the cut:

How many fics have you worked on since January?

I've worked on 9 since January, one of which I'm still currently working on and will be working on for the next few months, probably.

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

A lot of things! I think the biggest one is alternating perspectives.

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

Baldur's Gate 3, obviously, haha.

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

Just the one, BG3.

What ships captured your heart?

Mostly Wyllstarion, but I also wrote Minscstarion and Halsin/Ulder Ravengard LOOOLLLL..... crack ships taken seriously are so good to me

What characters captured your heart?

Wyll mostly, and also Astarion.

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

Yes, all of the ones I've listed so far! The newest ones were Minscstarion and Ulsin LOOL I sort of was the flagship for both of those.

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What's Become of You, because that was the first long-form creative writing project I've ever done! I'd only done short stories before then, and then I sat down and churned out a novel-length fanfiction. it meant a lot to me to know that it was something I'm capable of.

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

Probably also What's Become of You, but all of the fics I've written have made me super happy. If they didn't make me happy, I wouldn't write them. Right now, the fic I'm working on (titled "Sorry For Your Loss") is really making me excited too, but I won't be posting it for a while.

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

Again, What's Become of You.

What fic was the most difficult to write?

The one I'm currently working on. Where What's Become of You basically already had a whole plot outline because it just follows the entire plot of BG3, Sorry For Your Loss is far more original and has required SO much outlining and re-outlining and re-re-re-outlining, and I've redone so many chapters from the ground up because I wasn't happy with them. It's been a real challenge, but it's one that I'm really excited to keep conquering >:^)

What fic was the easiest to write?

Keep Talking, for sure. That one's just brainless smut. Of course, that's made it my most popular wyllstarion fanfiction HAHAHAHAHA.... but that's how these things go.

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Shortest was Keep Talking, longest was What's Become of You.

What were your go-to writing songs?

The "deep focus" playlist on spotify hahahahaha I can't listen to stuff with lyrics much when I'm writing, and a lot of other background songs end up distracting me. Honestly, 75% of the time I'm just writing in silence.... or to the sound of a busy crowd. (Don't worry, I don't write anything NSFW in public.)

What was the hardest fic to title?

Health Potions (Or: If Only Someone Here Knew Cure Light Wounds). That one was a toss up, and as you can see, I still couldn't choose between two titles lmao

What's your favorite title of the year?

Probably A Haughty Spirit (Goeth Before a Fall) because that's a bible verse I chopped up and that just cracks me up a little bit. I have the title for an eventual sequel planned if I ever write it, which would be "To Be Humble (In Spirit with the Lowly)."

Share your favorite opening line

Do chapter opening lines count? Here's a sneak peek from Sorry For Your Loss.

Share your favorite ending line

Another chapter ending line from Sorry For Your Loss.

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

"He was the best-dressed homeless man in the city. Of this he was sure."

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

While working on my latest fic, a certain conversation went in a totally different direction than I planned, but I ended up really liking how it turned out. I had to go back to the drawing board for a couple things later in the story because of it, but I think it's way better this way.

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

Google Drive mostly. I like to write things on paper when I'm outlining, or when I'm feeling stuck. It keeps me from deleting things, and I care less about getting it Perfect that way.

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Finishing What's Become of You, definitely.

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

No, I wanted to get a cake for What's Become of You, but I had plans that day and that ended up being fun enough that I didn't feel the need to get a cake.

How did you recharge between fics?

Laying on the floor. I don't actually have a recharge method, I just write when inspiration strikes me.

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

Oh, yes. So much fanart lmao.

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

Just one! Wyllstarion Secret Solstice event, but I did art instead of writing for that one.

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

@foxflowering definitely!! She really helped me improve my writing so much and she was such a fantastic editor for What's Become of You.

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Keep writing Sorry For Your Loss, really.

What would you like to write next year?

I want to finish Sorry For Your Loss and do a couple more short-form Wyllstarion pieces. I have ideas! Lots of ideas!!!!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[keanusbabydoll]

JEALOUSY

paring: daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, dom!daryl, unprotected p in v, spanking, degrading, praising, rough sex, daddy kink, punishment, doggy style, porn with no plot

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: i’m so sorry for not posting but college was stressing me out way too much and i got sick a few days ago… but here i am- blessing you with daryl dixon smut ;)

MDNI

𑁍ꨄ❦❥𖣔✰༄⁂᯽𖦹☾♡♥✯☼᪥⍟ꨄఌ❦𑁍𖣘★᪥༄❁᯽✫

“slow d-down.” is what you managed to squeak out before daryl pushed your face into the mattress of your shared bed. he had you in doggy style; angry, jealous, aggressive. his dick was hammering into your abused hole in an punishing way, never planning on slowing down or going gentle.

“ya don’t get ta tell me what ta do.” he growled out as he gripped your hips’ flesh tighter and reached around your middle to spank your pussy, eliciting a loud, muffled cry from you. you were spasming beneath him, wishing he would be more softer. but not with daryl.

and all that just because you went on a hunt with rick. daryl knew that rick was interested in you, found you attractive. he told you many times before that he didn’t like it when you spend time with rick. he was a very possessive man. you were only his. hell, if it were up to him, he’d blow a fist to every guy’s jaw who just looked at you too long for his liking. but you were bored, daryl was out as well, so you decided to just join him, not thinking about the consequences.

“goin’ out with rick. fuckin’ slut.” he continued, his pace just increasing and getting even rougher. “i thought ya knew better.”

he kept pushing his whole length into your pussy as he landed a harsh slap to your ass. “count.” he said before gripping the roots of your hair, pulling your body slightly up.

smack.

his free hand landed another stinging slap to your ass cheek.

“one.” you whimpered out, body surging forward from the sudden sensation.

smack.

“two.” you cried out as the first few tears that formed in the corner of your eyes began to pour down your face.

smack.

“t-three.”

“ya ever gonna do tha’ again without ma permission?” daryl snarled, his grip just tightening and his hips started to pound you in an animalistic pace, letting out all of his pent up anger and frustration. you tried to wriggle out of his grip, trying to get away from his torture but it was useless.

“speak.” he ordered furiously as he landed another hit to your ass.

“n-no. i promise.” you moaned out, eyes tightly shut.

“good.” he mumbles before he slapped your ass for the last time, using all of his strength, wanting you to suffer and realize what you’ve done wrong. jolts of stinging pain cursed through your whole body and a scream escaped your mouth.

daryl chuckled darkly in reply and smirked pleasingly to himself to see his fire red handprint on your ass. at that point you were a whimpering mess but you would have lied if you said you didn’t like it. daryl pushing you to your limits was definitely something you enjoyed even though it was really intense.

with his hand still tangled in your hair, he pulled you up against his chest, hips still thrusting in the same, rough pace like before. sometimes you wondered how that man could have such a great stamina- you had been going for one hour already.

“do ya like it when daddy punishes ya?” daryl rasped in your ear, his hot breath fanning on your neck. “yes!” you squeak out, throwing your head back against his chest. you didn’t even fully register his words, being to caught up by the feeling of his cock kissing that one spot that made you see stars. a spot you didn’t even know existed before you had met daryl.

and the new position only allowed him to hit it better, to hit it more intensely. your legs felt like giving out and the pleasure you received brought you closer and closer to your release. daryl smacked one of your breasts harshly before twisting and pulling on a nipple, making you whine out in pain. “is ma lil’ slut gonna cum?” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock- always a sign for him that you’re close.

“fuck! yess, daddy. i’m so-so close!” you cried out, voice latched with desperation. you needed this release dearly. he had edged you for the past hour and your core was burning for an orgasm.

you heard him chuckle darkly as he wrapped a hand around your throat with a firm grip and turned your head sharply only to claim your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “beg for it.” he mumbled against your lips, his free hand gliding down your sides and hips before reaching your pussy.

you whined out in frustration but kissed him back hungrily. “please d-daddy! let me cum! i’ll be a good girl, i promise. i only belong to you, only you can make me cum!” you pleaded him, trying your best to hold your orgasm in, but with daryl rubbing your swollen clit, it’s almost impossible.

“ma good girl.” he whispered before pulling you in again. “ya are allowed ta cum.” he sped up his hips, the sound of your skin clapping together growing louder and his digits circled your clit faster. your moans and cry’s were muffled by his mouth and you were at the verge of cumming, just mere seconds away.

with a last thrust of daryl’s hip, hitting your special spot roughly, he sent you over the edge. you tore away from his lips and let out a sinful scream, letting him know how good he made you feel. your eyes were tightly shut as you let your orgasm crash through you, feeling it in every single part of your body. daryl fucked you through your high, wanting you to experience it to its last bit- but also chasing his own.

he harshly pushed your upper body forward again, grabbed both your wrists and held them tightly behind your back. his head leaned back in ecstasy, the feeling of your velvety walls making him go feral. he used his whole strength fucking into you, being extremely close to his orgasm. you couldn’t contain your screams anymore, the overstimulation sending shock waves through your whole body. his free hand gripped your hip as he used you as his own personal fuck toy, only thinking about his pleasure. “fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up.” he growled.

and when your walls clamped down on his dick firmly, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. with a guttural groan and stuttering hips, he spurted his seed deep inside of you, painting your perfect walls in white. your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim- something you’ve always enjoyed.

finally, after a few more thrusts, daryl’s pounding came to an halt and he breathed out heavily. “fuck.” he groaned as he slowly pulled out of your slick hole, both of you moaning at the loss. he released both your wrists before he collapsed beside you, a hand placed on his chest- dearly trying to catch his breath. you laid there motionless, you were completely fucked out and exhausted from his sweet torture.

“c’mere baby.” daryl whispered as he pulled your form into his embrace. he snuggled up against your back, his face nestling in the crook of your neck while a hand around your waist pulled you in closer. “ya did so good for me.”

you didn’t reply, your mind was still clouded with the intense after waves of your orgasm. “i wasn’t too rough, was i?” daryl suddenly asked, sounding more concerned now, considering the fact that you hadn’t said a word or moved a single muscle.

“maybe a little, but i liked it.” you tiredly mumbled but still with a smirk plastered on your face. daryl chuckled at your reply and kissed your cheek, relieved that you enjoyed it. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you more.” you replied before drifting off into a deep sleep.

REQUESTS ARE OPENED!!!

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: call it the magic of christmas

pairing: jameson hawthorne x avery grambs

synopsis: avery has to finish her work before her deadline (christmas day) but she’s not exactly being kind to herself about it… luckily she happens to have a hawthorne of a boyfriend who knows what to do

warnings:

a/n: dedicated to @wish-i-were-heather, merry christmas ❤️🤍💚🎄

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses

Avery was on the brink tearing her hair out over this set of paperwork, the deadline was midnight and it was currently an hour until the clock struck that deadly hour. She thought she’d managed her time well, she’d thought she’d been prepared but everything had to come crashing down on Christmas Eve, of course.

“Heiress?” Jameson called, walking into the room. His eyebrows pinched in concern upon seeing Avery still at her desk, frantically signing and scribbling on pieces of paper, her impossible to do list not even half done.

“Give me half and hour,” she responded, knowing what he’s say before even said it. She didn’t even take her eyes off of the paper, “tops.”

“It’s Christmas, Ave,” he said gently, the green of his eyes whirring into a sea of worry.

“I have a paper to finish,” she shook her head sharply, her laser focus almost admirable, “and it’s not Christmas yet.”

“Put it down, heiress,” Jameson told her, leaning on her desk.

Avery still hadn’t looked up and continued to fill in one of the many blank boxes still left on the page, “it needs to be in by tomorrow,” she explained, a panic he wasn’t too used to hearing creeping up in the back of her throat.

“Put it down,” he repeated immediately.

This wasn’t Avery. Whatever this was, it was making her stressed and frustrated and anxious and Jameson couldn’t bear it. How dare anything make her feel that way.

“No,” she replied bluntly, before cursing her pen for running out.

“Are you even going to look at me or am I going to have to take my shirt off?” Jameson deadpanned, staring at her intently to see if she would even minority react to anything he was trying.

“I’m concentrating Jameson,” she snapped, ignoring the last comment as tempting as the offer was.

“Fine,” he sighed, “but you asked for this.”

Smoothly Jameson shed his shirt, tossing it behind him, exposing his toned upper body and scarred chest. He stood there, a Hawthorne smirk plastered on his lips. He played a betting game in his head: how long would Avery be able resist his little charade for?

“I’m not looking,” she sang, as if reading his mind.

His grin only widened, “but you want to.”

“Nope,” she said, over enunciating the ‘p’ so it popped as her eyes moved from left to right at lightning speed to skim the text in front of her.

“I can see you trying to sneak a glance,” Jameson smiled, observing her eyes lingering a little longer on the left side where he stood, each time she read.

“I’m trying to finish my work,” Avery scoffed, pushing a loose stand of her hair out of her face.

“Which you don’t need to be doing,” he said.

“Yes I do,” she replied, an uneven bitterness in her tone, “some of us have a sense of responsibility.”

As soon as the words left her lips she regretted them. She looked up to meet him eyes, guilt rippling across her features.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean that,” she rushed, pausing what she was doing.

“You’re stressed Avery,” Jameson told her softly, taking her face into the warm palms of his hands, “take a break.”

She shook her head and turned away, “I don’t need a break.”

“Are you really going to make me sing Hamilton shirtless now,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, “because if that will get you away I will.”

“I’m sure you could get Xander to duet with you,” she shrugged lightly.

He scrunched up his face, “he always steals the good bits.”

“Look,” Avery exhaled, “as much as I’d love to leave all of this, I can’t afford to, the deadline is tonight. Like tonight, tonight.”

“I get that,” he nodded gently, “really, believe me, I do, but this isn’t good for you.”

“I told you,” she said, “thirty more minutes, tops.”

“Who were you trying to convince there, you or me,” he asked with a witty smile.

“Shut up, you,” Avery grinned with a dopey love struck look in her eyes, “thirty minutes and I’m all yours.”

Jameson wiggled his eyebrows, “I like the sound of that.”

“You’re shameless,” she shook her head, laughing slightly.

“What can I say,” he shrugged, “I’m a Hawthorne.”

“That you are,” she murmured with a small smile, gazing up at him, “you’re distracting me now! You sly little-“

“Sorry, I’m going I’m going,” he said quickly, raising his hands above his head. Jameson began to walk out of the room when suddenly he spun on his heel and walked back, “but one thing before I leave…”

She hummed a response, too consumed back in her work to look back up again.

“Goodbye kiss?”

Avery sighed, putting her pen down, “I’m going to see you in thirty minutes.”

“Thirty whole minutes!” Jameson groaned, “you might as well just sacrifice me to the devil and let me boil in hell.”

“Well isn’t that tempting,” she said, standing up slowly and taking a few steps towards him, until her arms were around his neck and their faces were almost touching, “but I sort of want my Christmas present tomorrow so I guess I’ll keep you around.”

“Glad to know you’re still deeply in love with me, heiress,” Jameson smiled softly, all doe-eyed, with a sweet sarcasm.

“Who says I ever was,” Avery teased him, her fingertip drawing a spiral on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his back.

He forged a wince at her comment, “you wound me.”

“Shame,” she whispered, slowly pressing her lips onto his.

Jameson melted into her, trailing his hands up her body and deep into her hair. He began to kiss her deeper, more hungrily and she almost immediately mirrored him. The taste, the feeling, the adrenaline. It was perfect, it was all perfect. They fell into a rhythm as they often did of kissing and breathing, lost in the taste of each other, their own overwhelming love and the scared moment.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, finishing it off, before swiftly knocking her off of her feet and throwing her over his shoulder. Before she even had time to process it Avery was already there.

She yelped, flailing around a little, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing much,” he shrugged, beginning to make his way towards the exit.

“Jameson,” she growled, “put me down.”

“Too late for that heiress,” he sighed, “you fell for my trap.”

“Trap?”

“Well with my naturally seductive qualities, great body and irresistible lips I managed to lure you right where I wanted you to throw you over my shoulder to remove you from this,” he explained as if it were some intricately designed plot that mad been created by a mastermind.

“So you manipulated me to stop me from working,” Avery deadpanned, feeling the blood rushing to her head and she hung limp upside down.

“You say manipulated, I say kindly wooed away from mentally damaging activities,” he replied, leaving the room completely.

“Mental damaging?” she scoffed, “look Jamie, I love you but this isn’t funny, I’ve got serious work I need to do, it’s important.”

“Not as important as you,” he said softly.

“I appreciate your concern but I’m fine,” she replied, a little more firmness to her tone.

“You’ve been at the desk for eight hours,” he exclaimed “even Grayson wouldn’t be sane after that.”

Avery groaned, beginning to kick her legs in attempts to free herself, “Jameson I swear to you-“

“Come on heiress,” Jameson only laughed, “where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“Up my WOAH-“

Before she could finish her sentence Jameson had began to take off down the corridor, running. Avery squealed at the sudden change in pace, being shaken and upside down. Her head began to pound as she continued to try and free herself from his grasp.

“Put me down!”

“No can do!”

No matter how hard she tried, his hands were too firmly held onto her waist for her to even remotely wriggle her way out of them, much to her frustration.

“When I get down I am going to shave your head,” she yelled, “in your sleep!”

Jameson came to an abrupt halt, turning a little white.

“You wouldn’t,” he asked, in barely a whisper.

“I’ve already got the razor picked out,” Avery smirked as Xander walked around the corner.

He paused slowly taking in the scene, furrowed brows and inquisitive eyes.

“Shirtless brother,” he pointed to Jameson, “annoyed girlfriend over his shoulder. Nope, not gonna ask.”

“Xander! Wait!” she shouted after him.

He turned and came back.

“I need your help,” she said, gesturing to her situation.

“I think you’re in safe hands,” Xander replied, jerking his head towards Jameson’s arms wrapped around her leg, holding her into place.

“No, not safe hands,” she disagreed, “I want to get down but Jameson’s stubborn as it gets and he’s not letting me.”

“You’re up there for a good reason,” Jameson called.

“Shhhh you are not part of this conversation,” she replied smacking his back, “please help me Xand, I’ll do anything.”

Xander looked intrigued, his eyes sparkled at the word ‘anything’. Still he pondered the sentence for a long while before answering.

“You know, maybe Jameson is right,” he said slowly.

“Not you too!” she groaned letting her head fall limp, almost doll life.

“Don’t ask any of them for help,” Jameson smiled, “I��ve got them all onside.”

Xander looked at her apologetically, “we conducted mission: get-Avery-out-of-the-office as a team and we’re not going back on it now, sorry.”

“Xander, please,” she begged, “you gotta help me out here.”

He sighed, looking at her and from his expression she knew she was practically done for unless…

“You owe me still,” Avery said, she didn’t like holding things over people, especially not people that she loved but she really needed to finish her work.

Xander eyes widen, adding the the hold of guilt that was being drilled in Avery’s chest, “you said you wouldn’t bring that up!”

“Desperate times calls for desperate measures,” she winced, “sorry Xand.”

“If I do help and get you down…” he said slowly, “…will you stop working.”

“Yes,” she responded almost instantly, the lie rolling off of her tongue simply.

“Pinky swear,” Xander replied, extending his pinky finger towards the upside down Avery.

She sighed, giving him an apologetic look. She couldn’t break a pinky promise, so she wouldn’t make one she couldn’t keep.

“You just lied blatantly to my face,” Xander said dryly.

“Look I’m sorry Xand,” she rushed, “but this thing here is being impossible, it’s one page I have to finish and then I’m done.”

He shook his head, clutching his chest where his heart was, “take her away Jamie.”

“Xand no!” she yelled, kicking her legs.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” he said, shaking his head slowly, walking im the opposite direction from Jameson. Her one hope of escape. Gone.

Jameson laughed and carried on walking.

“This is not funny Jameson,” she groaned, burying her face into his back.

“I’m quite amused,” he replied.

“Well I’m glad one of us is having a good time,” she snapped, the sharpness in her voice foreign to him.

Slowly and carefully, he set her down on the floor, making sure to keep her arms to support her incase she got dizzy from being upside down for so long.

“I’m really stressed about this,” she told him, unwanted tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, “and it’s like you don’t get it, I don’t think you understand how I feel right now I’m so overwhelmed and-“

“It’s done,” Jameson interrupted her.

“What?”

“Alisa finalised everything exactly as you wanted it,” he explained cooly.

Her eyebrows pinched together as she titled her head to the side, “I don’t understand.”

“You needed to take a break,” he shrugged, “I got it sorted.”

“You’re joking,” she laughed, “right?”

“Call it the magic of Christmas,” he winked, brushing a chunk of hair away from her face to tuck in behind her ear.

“You are a meddler,” she said, trying to suppress her grin and failing.

He could only beam back, “you chose to date me.”

She smiled, staring at him for a moment. What did she do to get so lucky? To be able to look into those eyes every day, taste those lips, know every inch of that body. She did choose him, she knew as much, but she bloody knew why.

Still, Avery folded her arms over her chest and scrunched her nose up, “I’m still mad at you by the way.”

“Mad enough at me to have a heated make out session?” Jameson asked, with a suggestive glance towards the shut bedroom door.

“That’s a stretch,” Avery replied.

“Okay,” he shrugged, masking his disappointment, “what about a kiss then?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, the sound a buzz in the back of her throat, “let me think.”

“I promise not to throw you over my shoulder,” he winked, making her laugh.

Slowly she took his face in her hands and kissed his nose first, making him chuckle. Then she closed her eyes and savoured his lips. So delicate, so natural, so surreal. The clock struck twelve, the chimes boomed across the house.

“Merry Christmas, Heiress,” he whispered against her lips.

“Merry Christmas Jameson.”

[subjectnr8]

We all know the betrayal scene, right? Vander drowning Silco in the river because Vander blames his best friend for Felicia's and Connor's death.

I always had a pretty good idea of how Silco must've felt after that. I always imagined him running for half a day, terrified of Vander and the potential of still getting chased further than just the mere river banks.

I thought of Silco sobbing, of him having nightmares and ripping his hair out. Of his loneliness and resentment.

BUT I never thought of what happened with Vander. How do you wash away your best friends blood on YOUR hands?

I saw this piece of artwork and it woke something in me.

IT'S SO GOOD! Like hello?

I have so many questions for Vander. Why is he suddenly sorry? I mean he had no hesitation of drowning Silco. That's no even a quick death yk?! It's such a brutal way of ending someone you're supposed to protect.

What made Vander feel sorry? How long did he look for Silco? When did he write the letter? Do you think he has nightmares?

I NEED AT LEAST A WEEK NOW TO FIGURE THIS OUT!

blood under your nails

[zevrra]

could u write a jayce x female or gn reader fic or blurb where the reader has major baby fever or just wants a child in general? I feel like Jayce would make such a good girl dad. idk..this request is pretty stupid but i’ve just been craving Jayce as a dad.

I LUV UR WRITING BTW!! PLS NEVER STOP POSTING! 🤍

a/n: AAAAH this was such a cute idea i couldn’t resist KSHDKH. jayce 100% is a girl dad, you can’t change my mind and i also like to think he’d want a HUGE family too. 😭 thank you so much for the request and im sorry it’s a lil shorter but i hope it makes you giggle and kick your feet at the thought of dad!jayce bc i did KSHSKH i love jayce so much omg

jayce is definitely someone who wants to have a giant family one day. wants to have as many kids, in anyway possible, as his partner will let him. he’d be so sweet talking about how one day he hopes he can show off his kids and give them everything they could ever dream about. his heart is so big and it’s just so cute.

the two of you had been together for a very long time and seeing every child recently made you yearn for your own. so when you mention over dinner one day, wanting to start a family; he’s ecstatic. he’s so happy, staring at you with wide eyes as his face lights up with that stupidly charming smile of his.

“are you serious?” he asks; as if this might be a dream and that you’re lying to him.

“no jayce, i said it just to tease you.” you respond sarcastically. laughing with a shake of your head. you manage a shy glance in his direction as your fingers play with the utensils on the table. “i’ve just been thinking about it recently. seeing all the cute babies around the city during the holidays is just making me…want to start a family.” you add with a smile towards your lover.

who still sits and stares at you with wide eyes. his mouth slightly agape, fangs flashing as his lips curl up in a warm smile. he reaches across the table to grab your hand, his pretty hazel eyes full of love as he brings your hand up to his lips; placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“it’s your call, my love but i would be honored to start a family with you.” jayce hums sweetly. he plants another kiss against your knuckles before his thumb rubs across the top of your hand, soothingly touching you as he practically looks like he’s on the verge of tears. as if he’s waited for this moment for forever.

always so dramatic and you loved him for it.

“i think you’d make a great dad.” you state in a matter of fact tone, giving his hand a gentle squeeze back.

and truly, jayce would in fact make the best dad. you didn’t have to say it out loud to know it was true either; since he was already the perfect partner. you could easily imagine him with a little girl, protecting her from any harm, playing dress up, pretending to drink tea when he’s offered a plastic cup. he’s so sweet and deserves everything good in the world and you wanted nothing more than to start that next chapter in his and your own life.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Between the Holidays

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: Tim drops by the day after Christmas, and your family leads you to make an unplanned confession.

Warnings: fluff, meddling family members, OOC Tim

Word Count: 1.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“How?” you mumble as you pull wrapping paper shreds from your kitchen cabinets. “This is what I get for hosting.”

Your family is slowly waking on the morning after Christmas, the younger ones still enamored with their gifts, and the older members looking for something to keep them awake for another day of festivities. Everyone gathers in the living room to drink coffee and cocoa before the doorbell rings.

“Who is that?” your cousin closest in age to you asks.

“No idea. Breakfast is almost ready; I’ll be right back,” you reply.

Opening the door, you don’t expect to see your neighbor Tim.

“Good morning!” you greet with a smile. “How was your Christmas?”

“It was alright. Had to work, but we all went out for Chinese last night. How was yours?”

“Good, good. Nice to have everyone together again.”

“I brought you this,” Tim says, lifting a brown pie box from the bench beside your door. “Someone delivered over a hundred to the station, and I thought it was your favorite.”

Smiling, you read the flavor label. “It is my favorite. How did you remember that?”

“Who’s at the door?” your father calls.

You mouth an apology to Tim before asking, “We’re about to have breakfast, do you want to join us? At least let me send some home-cooked food home with you.”

“How can I argue with that?”

“Come on in.”

Tim steps into your doorway, and you close the door before leading him toward the kitchen.

“Who is this?” someone inquires. “Your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!” your father repeats incredulously.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!” your cousin says. She moves closer to whisper, “Good job.”

“No,” you try to interrupt but get cut off by several family members simultaneously.

“How did you meet?” your grandparents wonder.

“Why weren’t you at Christmas yesterday?” someone else asks Tim.

“He probably has his own family,” your cousin suggests. “He could’ve brought them, though, we have room.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone?”

“How long have you been together? Have you discussed marriage, kids?”

“Is that pie?”

“What do you see in each other?”

“Stop!” you yell. “This is Tim. He is my neighbor, and if he was my boyfriend, you would have successfully scared him away already, so thank you all for that. Now, if you will please let me get him some food, I would appreciate it.”

“In my day, we didn’t cook for someone unless we intended to do it for the rest of our lives,” an older relative mumbles.

You lead Tim into the kitchen and out of their invasive sight. After you set the pie down, you drop your head against the fridge and sigh.

“I am so sorry,” you tell Tim. “Help yourself to whatever you want and feel free to go out the back door and jump the fence.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t want to cook for me for the rest of our lives?” Tim asks.

You groan, and Tim lays his hand on your back. You lean into his touch, getting closer to him without thinking.

“Sweetheart!” someone calls. “We found your boy- your neighbor’s gifts under the tree!”

“Why are there so many- oh.” Your cousin walks into the kitchen with several presents in her arms but stops when she sees you standing close to Tim. “Maybe I’ll just leave these here.”

She sets them beside the pie and then returns to the living room, where their muffled conversation is still clearly about you and your handsome neighbor.

“You know, I was thinking about having them over next Christmas, but I think I’m done hosting for the rest of my life,” you tell Tim. “There are your presents, and I’ll pack up some food.”

“Why are there so many?” Tim asks, moving with you.

You shrug and answer, “I saw things that made me think of you, and I wanted you to know that you’re cared about, that you’re loved.”

Slowing your movements, you realize what you just said. Your family seems to fade away as you turn toward Tim. His brows are raised as if he expects you to say more.

“I didn’t tell them you were my boyfriend or that I have feelings for you,” you explain. “But I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t.”

“I was expecting to just drop off the pie and go home,” Tim says.

“Yeah, well my family should have a shared PhD in making things awkward and ruining things.”

“Awkward, yes. Do you think anything is ruined?”

You put a lid on the glass storage bowl containing Tim’s breakfast before you face him. “I don’t think that’s my decision, considering I’m the one who essentially just admitted I’m in love with you.”

“Is breakfast ready?” your dad yells before saying something suspiciously like, “Ow! I was only asking.”

“How long is your family here?” Tim asks.

“They leave tomorrow afternoon. Please don’t tell me you can hear them at your place.”

“No, no, at least I don’t think so. But maybe you should come over after they leave, and we can make some plans for New Year’s Eve.”

You hesitate, then ask, “Are you saying you feel the same?”

“I’m saying that I’d rather show you.”

“I’ll be there. Enjoy your gifts and your breakfast and wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine.”

You put Tim’s gifts and breakfast plate in a bag before you lead him back toward the door.

“I don’t buy that they’re neighbors,” your mom murmurs.

Tim stops and turns toward your family, who are all staring at him.

“Respectfully, she already told you that we’re neighbors and she doesn’t want to talk about it,” Tim reminds them. “When there is something to tell, it’s her decision about when and how to let you know. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

Hiding your smile, you close the door behind Tim. Your family drops the subject of Tim Bradford, at least in front of you, as you serve breakfast. Your holiday looks brighter, however, because Tim Bradford said you would call the shots when there was something between you. Not if, when. And starting tomorrow night, he has plans to show you what that means.

[friedtyrantbasement]

Tough conversations and good distractions

M reader

Cast: Yizhuo, Aeri, Yooyeon (not mentioned often)

Tags: smut, top reader, cheating, angst, marrital issues, drama, multi part series

WC: 3.8k

This felt like a repeat of how your parents argued. Your tie feels tight around your neck, this is what you never wanted to feel at any point in your adult life.

Your marriage was going through a rough patch for a while. Like, a seriously long while.

Yizhuo and yourself had been together for almost a year now, and at the beginning of your marriage you felt like nothing could go wrong. Of course, the honeymoon period didn't last long.

It's not like you try your best to fix it either in all honesty. You work in a fast-paced corporate job and the last thing you need to come home to is your wife asking you incessantly about who you've been conversing with and other questions you feel like you answered a million times.

You don't like to lie but distractions were needed to help keep you in your right mind.

“Baby, for the last time. The only one I have my eyes on is you. I swear it.” You learned to give that speech almost every time she felt insecure. It was getting over used, you might need to paraphrase it soon.

On top of Yizhuo’s knack for insecure behaviour, you have to deal with her family's high expectations. You're the vice president of your older brother's company but that wasn't enough for your in-laws. They wanted you to start your own company, be risky but that just wasn't who you were. You're a laid back guy who enjoys doing his job and one hell of a good one at that and getting paid without making any huge decisions that could affect other people at large.

“God, I just don't understand why you can't talk to me! You act like I'm not here for you when I tell you that you can always talk to me.” You want to roll your eyes at her words. Yizhuo would look impeccable if it weren't for the fact that you thought she had gone deaf in one ear.

“No sweetheart, I said that I simply have nothing to talk about, not that I can't talk with you.” You say gripping the dinner table you're currently leaning back on as your wife sits on the couch away from you. Yizhuo had been pressing you for answers on why you were so quiet these days but you just weren't up for it.

She licks her lips, her tongue sliding over her plump bottom lip and squeezing her eyes tightly as she blinks, as if she was calming herself down.

“I just have been…. Hearing things.” She starts.

“What things, Yizhuo?” You say her name, which makes her shift in her seat. Now she's rubbing her hands as if she's going to hear heartbreaking news.

“I've heard… that you've been seeing another woman. Specifically, that new girl on your work team.” Oh lord. You want to rip your hair out. ‘Is she seriously accusing me of sleeping with a university intern that I haven't even met?’ Your thoughts laugh at the situation, it's hilarious at this point.

The person she should worry about is the one closest to her.

“Oh really? And who told you that? Your little spy Aeri? She barely knows left from right and how many times has she been wrong about shit like this? Huh? Drop it, Yizhuo. I'm serious.”

You were dead serious, tired and not in the mood to be playing bullshit with your wife this early in the morning right before work. “Fine! But I still don't get why you just can't say ‘No honey, I'm not cheating’. Why can't you just say that to me?” Yizhuo says, throwing her hands up in defeat as she gets up to head to your shared bedroom.

A sigh leaves your mouth. This has gotten ridiculous. “You know what? I don't think that no matter what I say or do you're ever going to believe me. That's why, Yizhuo. So I'm going to work now and I would recommend you to drop this nonsense before I get home.”

You don't even let her say something back. You grab your work bag, car keys and you're gone with the wind. Now you're in the worst possible mood ever, sorry to all of your coworkers today.

—

“What's up with the VP today? He's crashing out over a few small mistakes.” One of your coworkers whispered in the break room. “Isn't he married to that fine woman? What issues could he have?” Another one said, edged with slight envy.

“Probably just some troubles in paradise. It's their one year mark soon. Everything goes to shit after that, I would know.” A supervisor says, his voice quieting with the last part of his dialogue. As if it was scripted, the workers collectively release a sigh, remembering the way they used to formerly be with their partners.

Of course, there was always someone keeping an ear out for a good conversation—minus the collective sigh at the end—especially when it has to do with someone she's been keeping an eye out for.

You are half near losing your mind. The argument from this morning and now your team was making numerous mistakes regardless of how small they were. ‘Fuck, I need to smoke’ You think getting out of your chair that you'd been glued to for the past four hours. Besides, the air and the person waiting for you will clear your head.

You press the elevator button a few times and that small action makes you wonder just when you have become such an impatient person. You used to love a good wait time especially when you were about to do something you had promised yourself you would never do again. Fortunately, the elevator opens, inviting you to enter it and whisk yourself away from the stress of your life.

“Hold it, please!” You hear a feminine voice call out, her heels making a light jog towards the elevator which you hold your arm out, keeping it open. “Thank you so much. I wasn't ready to wait another 10 minutes for the elevators.” The black haired girl breathes out and you chuckle nodding your head at her.

“I hear it. I still can't believe they only have two elevators for a fifteen floor building.” You say, getting a better look at the woman who's in a neat pencil skirt and a button up shirt. “What's your name? Haven't seen you before.” You mention extending your hand to the woman.

She takes your hand shaking it. “The names Yooyeon. Don't bother introducing yourself, I think we'll end up seeing each other more often.” Just then the elevator opens cueing her leave. Yooyeon waves as she steps off the elevator. You watch her walk away. Your eyes are unnecessarily narrowing down on her ass as the elevator closes.

You breathe out a sigh, it has been a while since you had an easy going conversation with someone. You think for a split second just as you enter the rooftop. “Well well well, look who we have here.” You hear a sensual voice purr.

“Oh my, is that my wife's makeshift CIA investigator? Goodness, what do I owe the pleasure, Aeri.” You say sarcastically walking beside the woman, pulling out a cigarette to which Aeri lights it up for you. The woman dangerously close, you can smell her Chanel perfume as her eyelashes bat at you.

“Oh dear, have I ruffled your feathers on such a pleasant morning, sir?” She says, coyly placing her hand on the lapel of your suit. You remove her hand and breathe out your smoke onto her face. “Do you find yourself happy confusing my wife?” She fans the smoke away from her and smiles at you, if it were anyone else they would have misunderstood her smile as a genuine one.

“I enjoy it just as much as you like filling me up.” Her words make you clench your jaw. Your hand that does not have a cigarette lodged between two fingers grips her face. “Watch that mouth. You're much more careless than I thought.” Aeri only grips your blazer and throws your hand away from her face.

You breathe in smoke again, holding it in and then you blow it out. You know what's going to happen after this. You know you can't trust yourself with this woman, and she knows that just as well as you do. So you step out your cigarette and press your lips against hers. Aeri meets you with fervor and passion.

“You know you can't get enough.” She whispers haughtily, confident in herself. Unfortunately, you know she's right and so you burst out laughing to her confusion. Aeri almost gets the chance to ask you what's wrong with you but you kiss her again. Your tongue running over her lips, sucking on her bottom lip, and just like that Aeri feels like she's the only one in the world. Pressing chaste kisses all over her lips and then you slide your tongue into her mouth. You hear her release a moan, a pretty one at that. It rings in your ear, letting you grip the back of her neck pushing her as close as you possibly could.

It's an addiction, one that feels so good, one that you doubt you could stop. So you don't. You're driving Aeri to one of her father's numerous hotels to check in to so you can take your fingers out of her cunt and stick something else in.

“Fuck- drive faster, you piece of shit.” The name calling makes you scoff. “Didn't I tell you to watch your fucking mouth earlier?” You curl the pads of your fingers to hit her spot. Aeri's back arches, the back of her hand falling lightly over her mouth as she tears up. Finally, you achieve your desired silence minus the moans and ‘Fuck’ and ‘Mm right there’ ‘s coming from Aeri's mouth.

Unfortunately, you reach your destination all too quickly. You slide your fingers out of her sopping folds and she shoots you a glare but nevertheless gets out of the car, walking a few paces ahead of you. The receptionist is used to the two of you and your monthly rendezvous with the Chairman's daughter.

“Don't take so long, you know what we're here for and I’d rather not spend more time with you than I'd like to.” Aeri says, as you zip her black short dress down. You roll your eyes and push her onto the bed without much regard for her. You throw off your blazer and pull your tie off only to unbutton the first button. You crawl closer to her, you bury your face into her neck, pressing a hot kiss against her pale skin.

By the time you're done making love with her neck, your belt has been unbuckled and your pants are off. Aeri's fingers pull the waistband of your boxers down with some help of yourself. “Come on, put it in.” She whines into your ear, you aim your length at her entrance but don't do as the vixen wants.

“So fucking whiny for it, why don't you beg? Act a little cute for me, won't you? It's been so hard calming my wife down because of your evil whispers.” Aeri stiffens at the mention of Yizhuo. You can see her eyes flicker, you wonder if that's if she feels bad or if she doesn't like how much you're talking.

But the thought of reality doesn't last long before you feel Aeri press her dainty and magically gorgeous hand on your chest pushing you down onto your back. Aeri unbuttons the rest of your blouse at a torturously slow speed, which you would never admit turned you on a bit. She presses hot kisses down your torso starting at your jaw, so near to your lips and further down she went.

As a natural occurrence would have it she landed just where your lower stomach is. Her tongue flat against your stomach, giving it small kisses and kitten licks. You just wish she'd go a bit lower so you hold a hand to the back of her head and try to escort her way to your hard, pre cum leaking cock.

“You want me to suck on him? Act a little cute for me, won't you?” Referring to your cock as ‘him’ and the sarcastic repetition of your words. The two of you lock eyes for a moment before you feel the need to kiss her again. So you do as you desire but not before you get what you want.

You wrap a hand around your cock and push it closer to her lips. Aeri looks up at you and you tilt your head slightly with a pout on your lips, as your back rests against her head board. She gives in to your little show and wraps her lips around your tip, her tongue makes small circles around the head before letting more of your length slide into her mouth. You suck in a deep breath as you feel Aeri apply suction.

Your hand naturally returns to the back of her neck politely urging her to take more of your shaft. Aeri knows the desperation that you're displaying and she enjoys it but more than anything she enjoys seeing you crumble, that mask of being the all responsible, perfect family man and vice president just falls off under her touch.

Though this is something that she knows will never last forever, she gives in taking you into the back of her throat. She takes your cock whole, letting it hit the back of her throat and she lets her mouth head back to the tip. Aeri repeats this over and over. No regard for the way she’ll probably gag at having you so deep.

As if she wants to consume you whole, monopolise you, own you, the greed that she feels is most likely consuming herself but she delusions herself into thinking that she is not affected by the way your eyes are stuck onto hers.

Aeri can feel your hips twitch, as if you’re warning her unconsciously of your orgasm. Her tongue slides over your member, carefully paying attention to it in the most romantic way possible. The poised woman removes your cock from her warm mouth allowing your white hot to land on her face in untimed spurts. Your hand grabs some tissues on the bedside table of the bed to pass to your accomplice. To which she takes and carefully dabs her face, erasing any residue left.

Now you think for a moment, ‘She looks pretty.’ but you don't allow yourself to think any further, after all Aeri would tie a noose around your neck if she knew you had such thoughts, soft thoughts. You lay the woman down on her back, the rest of work would be on your part so you slide on a condom looking down at the woman under you.

“A man with no arms could move faster than you, don’t waste my time.” Aeri spits at you and you scoff at her words, lowering yourself and pressing your cock head against her wet entrance. Her back arches and her arms wrap around your neck as your cock enters her, filling every space in her cunt.

“Fuck, it’s been so long.” You groan as you bury your head into the crook of her neck, your hand slides under the back of her thigh caressing her softly as you fuck her. Aeri’s small swears and loud moans fill the hotel room along with your groans. Your hips rock back into her pelvis, and you can feel Aeri's small movements in an attempt to match your thrusts. You're stretching her out in ways she could never imagine. The tightness of her sopping pussy has you groaning out in awe.

Your eyes are stuck on the way Aeri's breasts move every time you fuck her. You throw her legs over your shoulders and get as close as humanly possible, your face perched between the woman's perfect boobs. Your mouth latches onto one of her nipples, sucking it, licking it, and giving it all your attention and focus. Aeri yelps and mewls, her luxurious sounds of pleasure leaking out of her pretty lips only encourages you to continue working her breasts. But you never forget to hit the deepest part of her pussy, you find yourself unable to stop giving the most concentrated strokes known to mankind.

“Go- god, keep going, you- fuck so perfect for me.” Aeri says as her hands manage to touch your face and bring you to focus on her face, that's contorted in the ecstasy that you bring her. Both of your lips find one another with some struggle of space, yet your tongue slides into her perfectly curated mouth and you spend time working her mouth. “You're the one who's so fucking perfect.” You praise her and you can tell she enjoys the words of affirmation after all, her cunt is tightening around you.

As if you would die if you did not seek pleasure from Aeri you continue to chase your high. Despite hers being long reached, Aeri can only let out gasps and whines asking you to give her a break. “I'll give you a break when you deserve one. I haven't even cum yet.” Your hips jerk again into her and her head falls back. The sounds of her moaning are rivaled by the sounds of your balls slapping harshly against her skin, additionally the wet sounds coming from her pussy. “You're acting like you don't enjoy this, you hear that? Those sounds are all yours. Don't get so fucking arrogant, you whore.” you spit out cruelly, and she responds with a sobbed out apology.

A small smile paints your lips, the feeling of pride swelling in your chest. Who else but you could bring the Chairman's daughter down a notch other than you? If the world was your oyster this is what you would be doing for the rest of your life. “That's what I thought. Don't forget your fucking place. And tell me where your place is?” You egg her on, you know Aeri knows the answer to this question. Her eyes look away from yours and she can only bite her lip. So you stop thrusting for a moment, which causes a whiny mewl to leave Aeri's lips.

“My place is..” she takes her time pronouncing the words. It only increases your satisfaction of watching the proud woman suddenly melt into a girl who only has her eyes on you. “...below you.” A smile slaps onto your face, your hand lands on her hair, caressing her so softly. You know she's waiting for her reward and it's your job to give her what she wants.

You bottom out in Aeri's cunt, filling her up, a cuss falls out of her mouth. Your hand goes under her thighs and pushes her knees beside her head. Your fucking her rough and murderously fast, she's practically screaming. Your cock is hitting a perfect spot, your teeth are gritting together. “This is what good girls get when they act good.” You say, your voice low and deep as Aeri reaches yet another earth shattering orgasm. Yours is on the way soon, with the way your balls are tightening. You slide out of her, you take off your condom, then you push yourself back in.

“No- wait, you can't. That's too-” Your hand falls over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up, I'm not cumming inside of you, dumb whore. I'm just feeling your insides a bit.” And to your expectations, it felt so good, you should've done this from the start. You're orgasming soon though so you slide out your cock again and let yourself finish on her tits and face.

Both of you are panting, completely out of breath. “What's with you today?” Aeri says, obviously annoyed with you, but you couldn't bother to care. “My wife and I have an interview to get to. I'll shower first.” You ignore her question and take a quick peek at your watch that is currently the only piece of clothing you have along with your ring. “Well, since you didn't read the list of interviewees. My father and I are also getting interviewed. We have no time.” You know what Aeri means and you smile.

She rolls her eyes and grabs you by the elbow and leads you to the washroom. Suddenly you feel like you have an extra 20 minutes to spare. So long as you get another blow from her. “Let's get each other clean, Uchinaga.”

—

“Do you know how much we're running late?!” You hear Yizhuo say from the second floor of your mansion. “Honey, we're fine. It's a 25 minute drive.” You were thankful that your limo at least had champagne in there to keep you company as your wife freaks out over the time.

Your eyes catch Yizhuo peeking down at you from the ledge of the stairs. Her face coloured in seriousness with her full lips pursed into an unhappy one. You lock eye contact with her and pull out one of your award winning smiles, the one that you'd use during the interview.

“Get off your phone, and tell the chauffeur to pull around.” Yizhuo's voice is elegant and perfect, and you know she means it. “Now, please.” Though it doesn't sound like Yizhuo is asking, rather she's demanding, and of course you comply. You go outside to see your chauffeur, an older gentleman with grey hair and a heartwarming aura.

“Pull around the limo, the one with alcohol. Thank you, Greg.” He nods at your words with a polite smile on his face, and he's off to get the car. You turn around to go grab your blazer and Yizhuo's fur coat off the couch.

“Sweetheart, thank you for getting my coat. You're perfect.” Yizhuo says, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as you open the door outside for her. “Anything for you, my beloved.” You say, holding the coat open for her to slip on easily, which she does. You throw on your black coat easily. Yizhuo's coat is black fur, befitting of her white cocktail dress.

“You look gorgeous, I'm almost hurt that someone else will see you looking this good.” You compliment, earning a smile and an elegant giggle from your wife. “And all of this will be yours when we get home. As long as you're on your best behaviour.” She says coyly, and you could practically feel your cock hardening under your pants.

You couldn't wait to get this over with, get home and collect your prize. Whether you would live up to deserve it… well we'll find out.

[verystrxxwberry]

 ELDARYA CHRISTMAS SCENARIOS!

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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Long scenarios, individual character x reader, fluff, slightly tiny little bit suggestive on leiftan’s part??, sfw and fluff in general :) ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Merry Christmas everyone!! I’m sorry for posting this quite late, I like to do stuff at the last moment hehe. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this! I'm sorry for any misspellings!!!

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

EZAREL – First snow

The elf had spent several days on a mission, which would result in a nice nap in your room. Because, yes, when Ezarel is tired your bed is much more appetizing than his. While you read to keep yourself awake, Ezarel cuddled one of the many pillows on your bed. You could hear his breathing steady and calm, finally resting after the exhaustion away from you. Time had passed quickly, both for you and for him, and the sun had hid in the horizon. The room was getting darker and darker and for the sake of your eyes you had to turn on the lamp in the bedside table. You closed the book and set it aside, curling up under the comforter next to Ezarel. You felt sorry for him, and how his face had troubling dark circles under his eyes. Taking enough courage to face the cold winter atmosphere, you left the bed and your room, heading to the kitchen. You wanted to spoil Ezarel when he woke up from his not-so-little nap, and that concluded in giving him hot chocolate with marshmallows. You had a hard time convincing Karuto, but he allowed you the luxury of taking two cups since it was, after all, that time of the year in Eldarya.

Once you returned to the room, the aroma of chocolate was enough to rouse Ezarel from his precious sleep. You heard a grunt coming from the elf, who was hiding his head under the pillow he was hugging, as a sign of his awakening. “Oh, I thought you were dead,” you said jokingly, moving towards him. He pushed the pillow away from his arms and rubbed his face wearily, trying to look as awake as possible. “Are you okay?”

With a sigh he uncovered his face and turned his gaze to you, still coming out of his trance. Slowly he nodded. You could see that his hair was quite messy, which was adorable. “The temperatures have dropped...” his voice was hoarse from exhaustion. “What have you brought? It smells too good” He asked as he continued to lie down. He didn't seem to have much desire to get up. Seeing Ezarel so comfortable filled your heart with warmth. You walked over and finally sat down on the edge of the bed, showing him the cups. That was enough to make him sit up. 

“I brought a gift,” you mused with a soft smile. The elf redid his ponytail and hugged you by the shoulders, causing you to almost throw the chocolate onto the bed.

“Ooooh, thank you so much!” He said to you in a firmer, more awake voice. To help you settle in, he made a space in the bed for you, holding his own mug in his lap. You settled in next to him and both of you began to consume the sweet contents of the cup. “That's amazing, thanks for the thoughtfulness, hun.” 

The sweet and savory combination of hot chocolate and marshmallows invaded your mouth, you wanted to melt from how good something hot felt with the temperature so low that day. “Yes it's true that it's quite cold today...” You muttered, covering your lap with the blanket. You got a playful look back from him. And without having time enough to think about what he was up to, you felt something icy on your leg. His foot. With a jump you jumped up, letting out a small squeak, “Ezarel!” Your reaction was all he needed to burst out laughing. “My God, nasty!” you felt a shiver, not only from the cold, but from the fact that a foot had touched your leg.

“Just know that my foot is clean,” he said with a chuckle, watching your body go numb with disgust. “I think if you pull the blind down it will be less cold,” his suggestion didn’t sound that bad. With your free hand, you pulled aside the curtain to lower the blind. But you saw how the streetlights allowed you to see the faint fall of a few white flakes. The ground still retained its orange autumn color, hinting that it was just beginning to snow.

“Ezarel, it's snowing!” You exclaimed instantly, causing some interest in the elf. Somewhat lazily he threw off the blanket and walked to your back, looking out the window.

“Oh, that explains why it was so cold today.” He murmurs and you notice how his hand rests on your waist. His smile widened with affection as you watched the snow fall steadily. “How cute.” He whispered to himself. As the snow continued to fall, slowly accumulating on the ground, you were able to feel his lips press carefully to your head. Ezarel settled small kisses on your head as you continued to admire the snow. “I hope you're not thinking of going outside. You'll get sick.”

“But you have to enjoy life a little, Ez...” You glanced in his direction and watched how he frowned slightly.

“If you couldn't stand my freezing foot, you'll be less able to stand the temperature outside.” He genuinely mocked you, giving your hip a little squeeze. “Let's go back to bed, come on.” 

As much as you wanted to complain about the elf's decision, you knew the most logical and cozy option was to snuggle up next to your boyfriend as you watched the snow fall. Both empty mugs rested on the nightstand, your back resting against his chest while the blanket shielded you from the surrounding coldness. It was certainly peaceful, and the open call of winter. Ezarel's slow, rhythmic breathing against the back of your neck lulled you into sleep. You knew that when you awoke you would find the Eldaryan streets covered in snow.

NEVRA – Under the mistletoe

It was lovely how all Eldaryans had cooperated to decorate the streets with Christmas decorations. Even the headquarters had been decorated and in the center of the hall of doors there was a big Christmas tree.  But still you had not had enough time to admire all the decorations. The work had you stifled, the reports kept coming in, and you questioned whether the work would ever be finished even at this time of year. You wanted to spend it like in your childhood, without school, in bed resting and having fun with your family and friends. Instead, you were there, working in the library without a break. What it was like being an adult now... A soft grunt escaped your tired lips. You were sure that chair was shaped like your butt at this point from the time you had spent sitting there. You stretched your limbs, causing your foot to push the table a little and, as a result, a pen fell to the floor. “Shit...”

“Didn't they tell you to keep quiet in the library?” You heard a whisper from behind you. You looked up to meet Nevra, who was holding a small smile on his face, showing some sympathy for you. His hand rested on the back of the chair. “You look like you need a break.”

“Of course I do...” You sighed, picking up the pen from the floor and looking at the papers you had left to review. Nevra sighed with you, not too convinced to leave you there, exploiting yourself with work. 

“Put this down, darling,” he grabbed your hand, using his other hand to set the pen down on the table, ”come on, let's unwind.” The icy touch of his skin contrasted the gentleness with which he held your hand. With a tug he lifted you out of the chair.

“Nevra, I must finish this...” You groaned, though you didn't have enough strength to stop your feet, guided by him. You walked out of the library, unrestricted by noise.

“Let Kero handle it, he's been spoiling the kids all day.” Nevra chuckled, looking over his shoulder at you. “Have you seen the Christmas decorations?”

“Yes, from afar” you replied, meeting the peak of the large Christmas tree. You descended the stairs and could see that the tree was indeed huge. There were some children with their mothers looking up at the lights with excitement. It was cute. “It's bigger than I expected...”

“I assure you it was bigger.” Nevra's fingers interlocked with yours. “You'll see, in a few days this area will be full of gifts,” he told you with a certain cheerful tone as he pointed to the free space between the ground and the last leaves of the tree. As he spoke he was drawing you towards him, circling the tree slowly, ”there will also be for you. Christmas was not celebrated in my village. The first year here it was mind-blowing, there was a bigger tree, and Karenn got lots of presents.”

“And you?” you asked, looking up at him. Nevra looked thoughtful, chuckling softly and shaking his head. His footsteps stopped in front of the Pantry, his eyes focusing on yours.

“I received gifts, yes - all from my fans.... I didn't like them very much though.” He mumbled, looking up at the ceiling with a weary sigh. “But I know this year my gifts are going to be better. Even if they're not in great quantity, they're going to be of the best quality.” The assurance in his words made you laugh.

“You're too confident.” You said jokingly, poking his arm lightly. With a soft playful groan he looked back at you, then looked away again. 

“To not be, sweetheart, since it seems my beauty has caught your eye,” he giggled even more, nuzzling your chin delicately and making you look up. Oh, the mistletoe... “You hadn't even noticed, huh?”

“You did it on purpose...” You noticed a certain warmth in your cheeks, looking up at Nevra again. You were both just below. His hand slid down to cradle your cheek, using his thumb to gently caress it. 

“No, no way.” With some sarcasm he replied to you, taking a few short steps to close the distance between you. “You're going to be my best Christmas present,” he whispered, not even taking a few seconds to consider if he should. What was clearest to Nevra when he was with you was that he wanted to kiss you. His lips soon found yours, waiting for your response before making them dance together. It wasn't a kiss with any other intentions beyond proving that his words were honest. The love he was conveying through his gentle kiss wanted to make you melt. His other hand held your hip to keep you steady on your feet. 

The moment was so beautiful that you had forgotten the world around you. Nevra's essence was magical and enchanting, it made you feel unique in the world, like no one else existed.

“Fuck, not again!” You heard a growl next to you. Karuto was sick of couples kissing at the door of the Pantry, and God, you were interrupting the passage! It was normal for him to get angry. However, his reaction got a chuckle out of both of you.

“Well, that didn't work out too well...” Nevra mumbled, looking at you with a playful grin, “I hope my gift isn't over.”

VALKYON – Christmas lights

Your boyfriend had been so busy putting up the streetlights that you had barely been able to see him. You knew that going to see the lights with him would be a problem since he might have hated them by the end of the week from seeing them so much. You were surprised that Eldarya also had a Christmas market, but you were looking forward to going! You decided to shower and get ready for when Valkyon returned from the forge. Maybe insisting once with going would be enough, maybe a few kisses could pay for the tiredness of the last weeks preparing the Christmas decorations. This little dragon has a soft heart for you, so it wouldn't be a matter of minutes before he agreed to go with you. Just to spoil you and see you happy.

You heard the door open, showing Valkyon entering along with a yawn. He was used to finding you in his room when he returned, in fact, he openly lent you a copy of his room keys. “Welcome back!” you said enthusiastically, receiving a kind and warm smile. 

Evidently he noticed that you were dressed better than usual. He crawled on the bed until he reached you and kissed your shoulder ever so gently. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, you could smell a certain aroma of metal, fire, wood and light sweat from him, ”what's the occasion?” 

“I wanted to go see the Christmas lights,” the softness in your voice showed your hesitation for his answer. Valkyon was silent for a few seconds, looking at you as he nodded his head, waiting for you to continue. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Sure,” his response was instantaneous, and you were relieved to know he was willing to go. “Shall we go now?” What you liked most about Valkyon was how direct he was when he had something on his mind. He didn't even care that he wasn't dressed up enough, he just wished he could go with you. You stood up and waited for Valkyon to get warm. Together you left the headquarters behind. You noticed the change from the inside of the building to the outside, as the night allowed the Christmas lights to shine. The market stalls were also reflecting lights that coordinated each other's colors. Some stalls were red and some green, some red and some white... It made a cheerful vibe, as well as creatures playing instruments in the sweetest and most talented way possible. The lights that hung from lamppost to lamppost had different shapes, but also accompanied the familiarity of the time.

“Wow, you guys did an amazing job,” you expressed, the hanging lights showing some typical gingerbread cookie figures, then creatures with presents, then Christmas balls, snowflakes.... You could see what a great job they had done the last few weeks. 

“I'm glad you like it,” Valkyon added with a genuinely pleased expression. You walked through the streets, admiring the details the markets had to offer. From books to handmade pendants, from handmade bags to instant food stalls. “If there's something you like, let me know.”

“No, it's not necessary. I just want to see the lights.” You let him know until you finally reached a bench in a more secluded spot that would allow you to see the visual wonder that was Eldarya during Christmas. You took his warm hands to make him sit with you. “The lights look beautiful. But I think you're the prettiest light here.”

Your heart flipped a little at the cheesy words you said, but it seemed to embarrass Valkyon at how pretty they had been. “I beg to differ, you are the light of my life. I have done nothing. You have improved the lives of many people here.”

“Hush, hush. We are both each other's lights,” you laughed at how he frowned in embarrassment. His heart was beating faster than normal.

“Sounds good to me...” he calmed his posture and merely smiled, ”but just know that you look even better than those lights.” He pointed down the populated street, making you laugh at his insistence. As an affectionate gesture you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking at the Christmas stalls. Valkyon also rested his head over yours, sighing calmly.

“I love you,” you hear him whisper. The instruments played by creatures made the atmosphere more romantic between you. Valkyon always had the most direct way to make you feel loved.

“What did you say?” you teased, earning his neutral stare.

“That I love you. I love you very much.” He affectionately held both of your hands.

“Me too, very very much.”

LEIFTAN – Christmas baking

Leiftan has always been a person who prefers to stay in the background. He prefers to listen rather than talk, he prefers to see rather than do. He thought it was adorable to watch you bake, and he was sure that if he joined in, he would destroy the vibes. But this time you hadn't allowed him to watch and had dragged him into the kitchen to make some Christmas cookies. Before he could complain, you both had your hands full of flour as you kneaded the dough into shape. 

“I don't know why you don't do this more often,” you began in an attempt to break the silence, distracting him from the tree shape he was making. 

“What? Baking? I don't think I'm very good at it,” he muttered with an uncomfortable smile. You frowned slightly, seeing your partner's insecurity for most things that required some dexterity.

“Well, you're wrong. You're making some very pretty shapes.” You replied as you pointed to the cookies on the counter that he had made. It was very satisfying to see the shapes of little angels, bells and snowflakes. A small, shy, chuckle escaped his lips, shaking his head. “You'll see that when you taste the cookies you'll melt from how well you've done.”

“Really, love...” he continued to laugh as he finished his tree cookie and placed it on the tray next to the others. “Whenever you want, we can put them inside the oven.” He said to you as he washed his hands of the flour. You finished your little snowman cookie and placed it on your tray, then looked at him and nodded your head. Between the two of you, you placed the trays in the oven, and now it was your turn to wait until they were golden brown. In the meantime, Leiftan was in charge of melting chocolate to decorate the cookies later. 

He was quite a focused person. Only your playful side would bring him out of that shy side to do crazy things. With the spray can of whipping cream you decided to approach him, “Leif? Open your mouth for a second...” the smile on your face went unnoticed, because the blind trust he had in you was.... well, blind. He opened his lips slightly, and it was enough for you to fill the small space with a mound of whipped cream. He opened his eyes widely and swallowed instinctively, starting to cough from shock.

“Love!” He exclaimed between coughs, making you laugh even harder. But poor guy, he was red and all from embarrassment. It took him a few seconds to pull himself together, looking at you with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “That's playing dirty...” he muttered and with his thumb he smeared the tip of your nose with chocolate. You made a small gesture of displeasure in jest, reaching for the chocolate with your tongue, which made him laugh. “Ah no, not that,” his thumb sealed your lips so you couldn’t use anything to clean yourself. In a quick gesture you tried to attack him with the whipped cream again, smearing part of his cheek and nose. You stuck out your tongue to tease him, licking his thumb. With a shudder he pulled away.

The kitchen was invaded by your genuine laughter. Moments like that with Leiftan were totally adorable and full of affection.

“You're dirty,” you said as a matter of fact, teasing him and totally ignoring that his hands had left traces of chocolate on your face.

“So are you,” he said in the same tone, taking your jaw carefully and reaching up to wipe the chocolate off your cheeks with little kisses and innocent bites. It made you shiver in a ticklish way.

“Are you trying to eat me?” you teased him, knowing he would be completely embarrassed. But nevertheless he answered you with a little hum, kissing the tip of your nose and finally your lips.

“Maybe,” he answered you with a gentle whisper. This man was going to kill you at any moment. “You'd have to be just as gentle and clean me up.” You couldn't help but get butterflies when he talked to you that way. He still had a trace of cream on his cheek, and there was a long wait until the cookies were ready. You smirked subtly.

“It's my turn to try to eat you then.”

LANCE – Secret santa!

You and Mathieu had decided to revive the Christmas spirit and celebrate a secret Santa the year you came back from the crystal, and it was the best choice ever! It became a tradition to do it every year. This year wasn’t the exception. Many agreed to participate, and you had had a month to get inspired and buy gifts. You were Eweleïn’s Secret Santa and with your budget and all the hints you had obtained from her, you decided to buy her some white earmuffs and a brown scarf. You all gathered at break time in a circle, and all the gifts had been placed in the center with the names of those for whom the gift was intended. The only thing that worried you was that Lance had been too quiet for the last month, and you planned to talk to him if that didn't change during this meeting. However, you could see the anxious and excited faces of some of your mates, even you had a certain adrenaline rush to know Eweleïn's reaction to your gift.

When she held it in her hands you tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, and a sense of relief came over you when you saw the elf react positively. She realized that it was you who had given her a certain gift because she was giving different hints for her gift to different people.

You were anxious to know what it was that had been given to you and who had given it to you. You watched as Mathieu received gloves from a random girl, as Lance received a coat from Nevra. It was all very friendly, and you were delighted to see that Lance was more cheerful than usual around so many people.

You finally had the gift in your hands. You could tell from the shape that it was a box. You were very impatient to know its contents so you quickly got rid of the paper and, evidently, there was a box. When you opened it you found a box of chocolates, a soft and warm blanket, a book... and another small box? You decided to open the small box only to find a ring and a note that read 

“would you like to marry me?”

Your jaw dropped, realizing immediately that it had been your partner, Lance, who had been your Secret Santa that year. “What? Really?” you whispered in shock. Suddenly the whole circle fell silent, spectating your response. Lance was the one who had been the most anxious during the stay. He nodded his head slowly. “My God...” Still in awe you pulled the ring out of the box, looking at it with a big smile and a twinkle in your eyes from the illusion.

“Are you going to say yes or do we need more time for you to say yes?” Karenn asked, snapping you out of your trance. 

“Of course I am going to say yes. Of course I want to marry you, Lance!” You exclaimed excitedly and the immediate response from the others was to clap enthusiastically. Lance didn't think twice to get up from his seat and embrace you, lifting you a little off the ground.

“Thank you so much… Thank you so damn much..” He whispered over and over again. He gently set you down on the floor and then knelt down, taking the ring from your hands. “May I?” You immediately nodded with excitement, giving him your hand so he could place the ring on your wedding ring finger. 

Once again, the applause began, though Lance ignored it and focused on planting a firm, contented kiss on your lips as a thank you for making that decision. 

“Then the next thing we can do is start planning your wedding!” Mathieu exclaimed enthusiastically.

And without a doubt, saying yes was the best decision you could have ever made.

MATHIEU – Making snowmen together!

It had been very spontaneous of you and Mathieu to go out that night to play in the snow. But what could you do? Your boyfriend was like a restless child from time to time and sometimes dragged you into his bad ideas. Your feet sank into the snow with every step you took, which slowed down your running to escape the snowballs raining down on you from Mathieu. Each one of them hit your back, not hard but not gently either. You laughed, trying to counter him with your own balls, but missing half of them.

“You're really bad at this!” Mathieu said with a chuckle, hiding behind a bench. 

“Don't hide coward!” You exclaimed as you grabbed a large amount of snow and ran towards him. You heard him let out a rather high-pitched scream as he started to run away from you, but you were quick to drop all that snow on him, making him fall. “Now who's the bad one at this?”

“Okay, I give up...” He said with a chuckle, glancing in your direction as he shook the snow off his coat. It has been like half an hour since you both started that snowball war. “Let me rest...” He muttered dramatically as he lay there in the snow, closing his eyes and sticking out his tongue as if he were dead.

“Have you ever thought about doing theater? Because you'd be bad at it.” You jokingly commented to him, placing both feet on either side of his torso. He frowned a little.

“That's envy, I'd be very good at it.” And with a quick movement he grabbed both your ankles, pulling you to fall on top of him. You grunted a little, your hands on either side of his head for balance. With his playful smile he gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want to try to make a snowman?” he proposed, caressing your waist affectionately.

“That's not a bad idea,” you nodded, standing up even though you had started to settle into that position. You gave him your hand so he could get up, shaking the snow off his coat again. You both began to roll the snow, bundling it together and focusing on making balls satisfactorily large enough for your snowman. The first attempt came out a little... small. He named it Max, your son. You used stones to decorate his head. The mismatch between many of the attempts was honestly hilarious. But Mathieu wanted to make a snowman that would last all winter, if possible.

“Honey, let's make one like the… animal crossing one, you know?,” he told you with a proud smile, ”so that even they will be proud of how well we made them.” Mathieu continued rolling up a ball too big for your liking.

“Ah, right... you know it is not going to come to life, right?” you teased him, adjusting the snow to form a medium-sized ball, which could fit the one Mat was making.

“We're in Eldarya, anything is possible,” and he was absolutely right. But when you put the two balls together, nothing happened. However, it was satisfying to see how well it was coming together. “Only the head is missing. I stole a carrot from Karuto for the nose.”

His happiness reminded you of that of a small child, and it was contagious.

“Is that so? Nice, one more reason for him to hate us,” your comment made him laugh as he helped you to form a smaller ball for the head. “I'm going to take care of getting sticks for his arms,” you let him know. Mathieu nodded, taking charge of forming the face to your snowman. You walked away a bit to get some wooden sticks large enough to fit the medium-sized ball. Mathieu was so focused that he was frowning.

“This is the perfect creation,” he whispered, sticking the carrot in the center of the face and putting a hat on its head. He didn't forget about the scarf detail either, even if it sacrificed his neck to the chilly atmosphere. You applauded him, honestly impressed by how well it had turned out for you. But it hadn't come to life.

“Good job, baby! What are you going to name this one?” You looked at him with amusement. Mathieu was taking the job seriously.

“Eh... When it comes to life, it'll decide that for itself.” His pride was evident to hide his lack of imagination at that moment. You hummed, thinking for a moment.

“Let's call him Valky, I think it suits him perfectly.” You commented, adjusting the hat so it wouldn't fall off. Mathieu's smile softened, agreeing with you. Even if he hadn't met Valkyon, he knew the importance he had in Eldarya.

“I'm sure he would have loved to see this.” He laughed, wiping the snow off your own coat. “Do you feel like going to dinner? All this exercise has left me hungry,” proposed the young man with a sweet expression. Your guts were roaring with hunger, too. You couldn't say no to him.

The next day Mathieu got sick from lending Valky the scarf.

✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it! Merry Christmas and happy new year everyone!

[manic-sapphic]

nope this isn't me talking about save the cat again~

and no, ofc it totally doesn't center around adora choosing to jump after catra... again. and yes, i am lying. lotsa lies with lotsa love <3

-- promise just renewed - of course adora's gonna jump after catra. whether you think she did or didn't break the promise the first time doesn't matter, the point is, she's not breaking this one. decided, confirmed. --

adora's finally fully seen just how much their promise had meant to catra - and her heart's been ripped open the entire time she's been forced to fight her - since the moment she sees catra and hears that hello. her mind's gotta be flooding with so many damn emotions that had either been repressed or she'd simply been conditioned not to recognize or consider relevant enough to acknowledge - which i would imagine, especially w her past trauma, had her feeling an insane amount of mental distress, since so much of what she was feeling, she couldn't hope to really identify or even describe. so, she probably doesn't quite entirely understand or even realize it - but suddenly, she's fully feeling just how much their promise had always meant to her, too.

it definitely seems to be what's determining every damn decision adora makes, even before she's there on prime's ship. before she's even seen catra. that promise lit up blinding bright in her brain during that comm's call w catra- she couldn't ignore it. she "can't just leave her there." but really, she just didn't want to. if i was tryna explain it to adora herself in terms i thought might help her get it, it'd go somethin like -

"know it or not, this was a moment where what you care about, arm-wrestled what you're supposed to care about, and broke that bitch's wrist, ok"

alright now my patented sorta-silly/serious whiplash, sorry --

-- forcefully pitted against each other, after it being so long since the two of them last fought - and with catra now basically a puppet on a string, carelessly subjected to all kinds of injury and pain, and never showing even the slightest response to it on her face - everything she's seeing and experiencing gives adora a horrifying display of what prime had done to catra and how much she must have gone through for him to have been able to warp, flatten, and take control of her like that - and all because of something she chose to do for her. (which tbh could be phrased in a similar way to adora's "i can't just leave her there" with "i can't just let her come here")

yeah. it's like throughout it all, the promise once again became the everything to adora she'd forgotten it always was.

so of course she follows after catra into the shadows.

she can't and won't just leave catra alone in the dark.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. TW: suicide thoughts.

John’s War

When it begins, it’s subtle. A flutter in his stomach, which later turns into an ache in his heart. He knows it’s wrong, and he desperately tries to fight it. It’s like a war, and he is the only participant. 

John’s been in love many times. Audrey was the first, Bethany the last. And it’s been fine. Normal. Girls seem to like him. He’s got quite the reputation by the time he’s reached sixteen.

***

It all started to crumble when his sister, Harry, came out as a lesbian at fourteen. Their parents had been livid, but Harry came prepared and was totally unfazed. She’d even arranged to stay at her girlfriend’s family, fully aware that her own mum and dad would kick her out if she didn’t retract and started to act normal.

***

Lance was half American, half British. He and his mother had recently moved back to London after almost twenty years in America. The moment John laid his eyes on Lance, the fluttering began. Lance looked like a film star. Golden, curly hair, green eyes, androgyne features, a slender body, strong hands, long fingers. He was everything John wasn’t. Gay, for starters. And he wanted John of all people.

Words John’s father used on such people, played on repeat in his mind:

Faggot. Queer. Degenerate.

John tried to tell Lance, he was straight, but there was no denying how much John wanted Lance to kiss and touch him. His penis reminded him repeatedly and inconveniently every so often of that particular fact.

“John. Stop this. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Lance whispered softly and kissed John’s neck. “Haven’t you heard of bisexuality?”

***

Running away to Afghanistan was the only way forward for John when he couldn’t rescue Lance after his overdose. He felt the need to atone for his lack of observation. 

How had he not seen the self-destructing path Lance was heading down? He was a bloody doctor, for Christ’s sake! Had he been in denial about that too? Didn’t he want to believe that such a talented man Lance turned out to be, could choose to destroy himself just because he failed the interview for the main role in a West End play?

“I’m sorry, darling, but there’ll be other roles. New chances. No one gets them on the first try, surely,” John had tried to reassure his lover, but to no avail.

So, there he was. In Afghanistan where danger lurked around every corner. John was quite startled that he enjoyed the danger so much. He felt alive, thrilled, his broken heart notwithstanding. 

And then, another man invaded his thoughts, and eventually his bed. Major James Sholto.

***

Mike Stamford had never seen a more broken man in his life than John Watson, as he limped past the bench, where he was sitting thinking about Sherlock's words from earlier: 

“Who would want me for a flatmate? I’m a difficult man at best. People hate being around me. Can you imagine someone actually living with me? Who is alive themselves. No, Mike. There exists no such human, I assure you.”

“John! John Watson!” he called out. 

When John just gave him a blank stare, Mike sighed and introduced himself. The response was insulting to say the least. No “oh, nice to see you again, mate,” or “what have you been up to?” There was…nothing.

“Who has left you heartbroken, John?” Mike didn’t say and let John walk away without having said a word.

***

After his meeting with Mike, John finds himself outside Barts hospital. He’s got fond memories from his practise here. With Mike. He winces when he reminisces how rude he was to the jovial man. But it couldn’t be helped. John’s a broken man in so many ways, and he just wants to be left alone. He looks up. Wonders how it would feel to stand on the edge of that roof. Would he dare to jump off it if the opportunity arose? He’s never been afraid of heights. And he longs for the pain to subside. The emotional pain. The pain that scars his heart.

Time eludes him. Why are his knees hurting? He opens his eyes. Is he kneeling on the pavement? Apparently. When did that happen? How long? His thoughts stop abruptly when a warm hand is placed on his good shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

A deep baritone. John perceives a posh accent. The warmth from the man’s hand travel down his spine like lava. 

Radiant. Alluring. Dangerous. 

He lifts his head. At first glance, the man could be Lance’s twin. But then, John realises that it’s only the curly hair and height they have in common. This man’s hair is almost black with tinges of auburn. His eyes are blue, but also green and blue green. The colours are constantly shifting. They’re mesmerising. John wants to drown himself in them.

John stands. He still hasn’t said a word. The man hands him his cane and speaks again.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

For the first time in years John’s first response isn’t to flee. Instead, he straightens his back, lifts his chin and asks:

“How? Tell me.”

The flicker of surprise, quickly followed by insecurity on the man’s face, makes John realise that this can be, if he lets it, a new beginning.

“Go on,” John prompts.

When the man speaks again, John is lost. An ease sets within him, and his heart stops cracking.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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[yall-batman-fanfic]

Beyond | Terry McGinnis x Batsis with Batman

Synopsis:  Bruce Wayne has retired as Batman leaving Gotham in the hands of the Police, and young heroes to keep her safe, but with Batman gone criminals are no longer scared, and crime rate has increased. Just as Bruce has lost all hope, Terry McGinnis arrives at the scene.

NOTE: I refuse to believe that the epilogue of Justice League Unlimited exists. I prefer Terry McGinnis being simply Terry McGinnis and NOT Bruce Wayne’s son. That epilogue ruined everything about Batman Beyond. You don’t have to be a Wayne to be Batman! Bruce became Batman because it was his choice and he had a purpose, it has nothing to do with blood. So, for this story, Terry is NOT blood-related to the Waynes in any way.

It has been five years since he wore the cowl. Five years after he had that one night he thought he was dead with the last thing he would see was a low-life scum and not his family. His beautiful wife and his amazing daughter. Five years since he had to resort to using a gun to strike fear into his enemies. No more. Never again. Since then he hung the cowl, closed the cave, and finally accepted his wife’s gift – a watch. A gift given for retirement. Since then he would wear that watch all the time to remind him of why he needed to stop being Batman.

Time was always the enemy. With time comes age, and with age are illnesses and the deterioration of the body.

Many of his comrades have gone – Leslie has died long before, Jim Gordon as well, due to a heart attack while in his office), Alfred has died in the most tragic death doing one last heroic thing for his family: saving Valerie from a gun-fire.

Valerie was there to witness everything and see the life leave Alfred’s eyes as he succumbed to his injuries. They found her on the ground, behind the vehicle they used for cover, holding her grandfather’s body and refusing to let go.

Worse of all, at that same year, she almost lost her father too because he was too damn stubborn to admit that he was no longer in his prime. That he was now an old man who depends on his technology to support his aging body and all the ailments he keeps from his wife (unsuccessfully keeping from his wife, he’s just too damn stubborn to admit it).

“What’s it going to take for you to understand that enough is enough, Bruce?” Vivian said as she sat beside her husband who laid in his hospital bed. Tears falling from her eyes at the scare they got.

Their family gathered in the room — Damian–who was his doctor–listening to him with a disappointed look, then there were Tim, Jason, Dick, and Cassandra. And Valerie. Sweet Valerie, who just witnessed her grandfather die in her arms, was standing by her father’s side with an unreadable look on her face.

“Viv,” Bruce spoke. He reached out to his wife and took her hand. “My love,” he called for her again when she wouldn't look at him, this time she turned to meet his tearful eyes. “You can take out the watch.”

“Bruce, are you sure?” Tim asked.

“I’m sure… it’s time. It’s long overdue,” Bruce turned to his daughter and reached out for her. With his arm open, Valerie joined her father and laid beside him so she could hold him tight. “I should have retired the moment you were born. I am so sorry for missing out on so many things… and for scaring you like that.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive,” Valerie whispered.

“It’s official,” Dick began. “The Batman’s done.”

As soon as he was discharged, he went back to the cave to put away his latest suit, lining it up with the rest. From his very first one, to the latest ones lined with kevlar and a heavy cape for gliding, a transmitter cowl; then to the Robins’ uniforms from Dick and Jason’s original uniforms, to Tim’s, Stephanie and Damian’s. Then there was Nightwing’s line up, along with Red Hood’s, Red Robin, Orphan, Batgirl, Spoiler, the Phoenix… and the red cowl and cloak that gained the name Red Bat by Gotham’s broadcasting network during their short-lived reign over Gotham. 

He closed it all, shutting down the power, locking away the life he’s lived and turning the fortress to a museum that no one can ever see or know.

He spent most of his time with his family and running Wayne Enterprises with his wife who was now the Head of the Wayne Foundation. Vivian still works part-time at the university and does research, but most of her work is now with the Wayne Foundation, wanting to help more people. She joked that teaching was her calling and passion job, and philanthropy was her retirement job. 

The time he spends with his daughter were ones he cherished. In the morning, the three of them would wake to start on their chores. While Vivian would start on breakfast, the two of them would be at the garden, tending to the flowers at Helena’s grave. Then he would drive her to school – he was insistent in doing so – before going to work. When at home they would dine as a family and spend time as a family.

But whenever he would hear or see the news about the rising crime rates in Gotham, Bruce couldn’t help but feel defeated. He has lost in this war. In the war he has waged against crime in Gotham. And when he would be somber, Vivian and Valerie would try to get his mind off of it or talk to him. 

This was the truth of Gotham, he would tell himself and them. No matter how much I fight, Batman cannot change its people. The people themselves refuse, and those who do, know better than to stay here. Gotham is a test through fire. Gotham was and is purgatory. 

~*~

Vivian was on her way home, driving on the bridge when he spoke to her a couple of minutes ago, and there was a group of punks who call themselves the Jokerz terrorizing a kid who crashed at his gate. Checking at his phone, he monitored the GPS icons of his wife and daughter to see where they were. Vivian was almost to the mainland, Valerie was just about to leave Gotham University.

He wasn’t going to let them walk into this, nor was he going to let them walk into his property too… and there was the kid.

Walking down the path that leads to the gate, Bruce made the sound of his cane prominent in each step he took, informing the gargoyle that guarded the manor of his arrival and to stand guard but not engage. Greg the Gargoyle has made himself a permanent guard of the manor ever since he’s reached a certain age, vowing to protect the state and its masters. 

“Let’s carve a smile on this punk!” One of the Jokerz called out to his group.

Another tap.

Gregory opened the gates of the manor, startling the teenagers and the punks.

As they wondered in fear, Bruce made himself known: “Leave him alone. Get off my property. You’re trespassing!”

“Stand back, old man!” The teenager got up and tried to cover him.

A young man with a good heart, he thought. 

“Aw, is that right?” One of the Jokerz taunted him.

“It’s okay, old man, I got this,” said the teenager.

Bruce walked past him to face the group and one of them, the one who wore the Joker mask, grabbed him by his shirt. 

“Who do you think you are, old man? We’re the Jokerz!”

Bruce smirked. “Sure you are.” 

When Joker-face tried to punch him, Bruce easily evaded and whacked him thrice with his cane until he was knocked down to the ground. Then the others engaged, trying to stab him with knives and hit him with bats but they were no match for him. He was Batman after all. An easy fight, and he was glad to see that he still got it –

Pain surged through his body.

His heart.

Clutching his chest, Bruce fell to the ground as he had another heart attack. No, he can’t. He needs to make sure his girls get home safe. That Vivian and Val were safe. 

He wasn’t sure what happened but the next he saw was the teenage boy running to his side, the sight of Valerie appearing out of thin air and running to his side.

“Dad! Dad!” She skidded on the ground.

“Val,” he grasped her hand.

Valerie placed a hand on his heart and tried to help him. “Dad, please don’t. Please, stay with me. Please,” she muttered as she helped heal him.

I’m not going anywhere, Val, he thought. Not unil I know you’re safe.

~*~

“Go out now and you might find yourself in their trap,” the girl with black hair told him. “Stay. Wait for a couple of hours until you are bore out of your mind, then wait for another hour, then and only then do you leave. Better yet, stay and leave in the morning. There’s no bus here, so I can drive you to Gotham Central.” 

He can’t stay the night but he’ll wait. She does have a point. As he waited, Terry started to roam around the manor to figure out who these people are, and then he saw the large portrait in the study. How could he not realize sooner?!

That girl was Valerie Wayne! The only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Vivian Pryor-Wayne.

Then that means the old man was Bruce Wayne!

How the hell did he find himself crashing to the gates of Wayne Manor?

As he pondered about the luck he had to be there – he was sure Wayne was going to make him pay for the dented gate – he heard noise coming from the clock. 

A bat was stuck inside the clock.

~*~

She should have kept an eye on Terry McGinnis. After getting her father to bed, Valerie asked Terry to stay for a bit and wait for the coast to be clear before leaving. Crap, she shouldn’t have had him in their home in the first place. But she can’t just let him go to the Jokerz trap – she even informed her mother about the group of punks driving motorcycles that might cross her path heading to Wayne Manor.

Or maybe she should have locked him in the living room until she returned. But that’s not good manners – as her grandfather would say, or her mother, or Dick and Tim. So, she trusted him that he would stay put. But no.

For some strange luck that was not on their side, Terry fucking McGinnis found the clock and walked inside the Cave and found the biggest secret that Gotham hides.

The identity of Batman.

“Geez, no wonder he could fight,” Terry mused, but before he could explore some more, a strong gust of wind pushed him away from the line up of uniforms and was pinned to the walls of the cave. This was no ordinary wind.

And he was right to suspect because from the shadows Valerie Wayne appeared with eyes glowing bright blue, her hand stretched out with her palm facing his direction, and her black hair flying around with the gusts of wind.

“No one ever taught you not to snoop around?” Valerie mused.

“You’re a — you’re a meta-human?” Terry gasped.

“Close enough,” she smirked. “You know, I can’t let you out of this place with you knowing about all of this.”

“Valerie!” Bruce’s voice boomed in the cave.

The sound of her father’s voice had her release Terry from the winds that pinned him to the wall and fall to the ground with a harsh thud.

“Oops,” she muttered.

She did that on purpose.

Bruce walked up to him with a nasty glare and sneered: “Get out!”

 ~*~

Vivian was not expecting to see her husband and daughter in the Batcave after Bruce closed it for good. After receiving the alert on her phone from Bruce’s heart monitor, she sped up in her drive and used a spell to warp realities to have her car jump from the long winding road to the grounds of Wayne Manor. When she got home, she looked around for Bruce, scared to death if something have happened to him and she wasn’t there. 

And there was.

If there wasn’t he wouldn’t be in the Cave. 

“Bruce!” Vivian ran down the stairs.

“Viv,” Bruce greeted her and before he could ask how she was she tackled him to an embrace.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Vivian turned to her daughter and reached for her hand.

“Someone saw the Cave,” Valerie spoke.

“What?” 

“The Jokerz chased a kid all the way to the Estate. I had a minor episode after I…” Bruce trailed off.

“After you what?” Vivian narrowed her gaze at him.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Valerie scoffed. “Really? If it was nothing, I wouldn’t have had to jump from GU to here, Dad. What if that kid was some punk too?”

“But he wasn’t.”

It was a losing battle. She knew it, and Valerie knew when to just go with what her father says: “He helped me get Dad inside the manor. I told him to stay for a while and wait until we’re sure the Jokerz were gone and I left him for a bit. And he found the clock and the Cave. It’s my fault.”

“Is it something that we should worry about? I can contact Damian,” said Vivian.

“Damian took an oath, Vivian,” Bruce reminded her.

“Then Tim.”

He said nothing on the matter. As of now, Tim was part of Wayne Enterprises’ Board of Directors and is working as the Vice President on Wayne Technologies. Tim can easily track down the boy, Terry McGinnis, and keep an eye on him but Bruce didn’t want to disturb him for this. Besides, while he remains to be Red Robin in certain occasions, Tim has his own life now, a family with Bernard to take care of.

Seeing her father’s lack of response, Valerie said, “I’ll tell them in the group chat. They should know considering Batman has a support system that is the same size and demographic as the Wayne family anyway.”

Before Bruce could protest, Valerie had already hit send and her phone was getting chat notifications nonstop.

“Come on, let’s head upstairs,” Vivian took her husband’s arm and led him back. When she sensed her daughter’s missing footsteps, she turned back and saw Valerie looking at the Red Bat costume on the case. “Val.”

Valerie turned away from the uniforms and ran to join her parents.

~*~

Warren McGinnis was murdered in his home.

The name McGinnis caught Valerie’s attention when Bunny mentioned it during their meet-up lunch dates between Gotham University and Gotham Academy (since Valerie graduated three years early, she’s been going to Gotham University, taking engineering and criminology classes, wanting to wait for Bunny before they apply for Yale, just like their parents). As soon as she got home, she told her father about the news and just as she expected he said nothing about it. 

“It has something to do with Powers,” Valerie said.

“What makes you say that?” Damian asked whilst continuing his work in the kitchen, making dinner for everyone in the manor. 

“Warren McGinnis was is part of Powers’ team in Powers’ Tech. I remember him in Wayne Tower with Derek Powers when they’re proposing a partnership with Wayne Tech. Tim there was something bad about Powers and didn’t budge.”

“And the fact Father would kill him if he agrees to it. Powers is dirty. His whole company is,” Damian placed a small plate of food for Valerie to taste and keep her occupied while they waited for their mother to come home and for Bruce to come back from his walk with Ace II.  “You still need to work on your detective skills, little sister.”

“I’m working on it,” Valerie said as she ate. “But Damian, someone has to stop him.”

“Who?”

“Powers. You know that he rose to power as soon as Batman disappeared. He took advantage of the fact that the crime rate is rising and the system is total shit – no offense to Barbs.”

“Again. Evidence. I think you’re being too reliant on your magic, Val. You need to work on finding the connections that would lead to the truth. Magic can’t solve everything.”

Valerie frowned as the memory of that moment she held her grandfather’s body, hoping her magic would save him. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Damian sighed and messed with her hair. “Stop thinking about this, Val. It’s not your job. Let Red Robin or Nightwing do it.”

Valerie scoffed. “Nightwing is too busy leading the Titans since the Justice League retired. Red Robin is there with him too. Batwoman’s gone, along with Oracle… Cassandra’s traveling and doing her work wherever she goes. Steph has moved on too. And who knows when Jason’s coming home.”

Damian frowned. “Let them handle it. The best you can do is give them a lead with this theory of yours.”

“Be a bystander, you mean. I find it hypocritical that Dad let you do the hero thing and not me.”

“It wasn’t the life we chose, Val. Dick and Jason were given a chance to have a new life with it. Cassandra and I? We were born into it. We had no choice… it seems it was just Tim who really understood the job from the very beginning,” Damian sat beside his sister and took a piece of the food he made. “The war we were fighting then… to have to wear that mask is not something a kid your age should be doing, I understand that now. Trust me, I was throwing a tantrum like you when I was your age and when I was younger. The life you have now is the one we all worked hard fighting for. We want you to live without ever having to go through what we did.”

“I know.”

“You sure? Looks like you don’t.”

Valerie slumped on her brother’s shoulder and sighed. “I just… I have all of this power, and you guys practically taught me how to fight —”

“For self-defense, Gotham is not a walk in the park.”

“—and you expect me to just watch as Gotham go down like this… all your hard work gone. It’s like you just gave up.”

Damian sighed.

“You can’t save people from themselves, Val,” the sound of their father’s voice had Valerie sit up. Bruce entered the kitchen without making a sound – even when he had a cane – and looked at her with solemnity. “My parents. Your grandparents told me to never give up on Gotham, and I didn’t. I fought all my life until I ended up like this. The truth is you can’t save Gotham from itself. The people here refuse to change. They like how the system is now. And for those who the Batman has inspired and changed, they knew better than to stay here.

“Gotham is a purgatory, and the best way to start again is by leaving it. And the reason why we don’t ever leave… is because we live at that boundary between purgatory and paradise. We get the chance to have luxury but also seeing the suffering of those from afar. Reminding us of human nature.”

“Father,” Damian warned him.

“Your brother is right. The life you have now is the one we wish for all to have, and you know damn well why you can’t wear the cowl. Not after that stunt you pulled.”

Valerie winced and looked away.

“Alright, that’s enough. You made your point,” Damian stood and hid Valerie from their father’s gaze.

Bruce Wayne is a good and loving father, but he can also be cruel with his words. Especially when he wants to prove a point. 

“If you have anything on Powers, hand it over to the Commissioner,” Bruce told her. “But that’s it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Valerie muttered. Her response startled Bruce and he started to regret his harsh words to her. But before he could apologize, Valerie got up from her seat and said she was going out for a walk, then exited the kitchen through the backdoor and left. But she didn’t leave exactly, she stayed by the side of the kitchen and listened to what they were going to say.

Damian sighed. “Just as we thought you’d ease it with the harsh words when you had Val. She’s not like the rest of us who can brush it off when you’re being a total asshold. She’s…”

Valerie knew that. She always felt like there was a huge difference between her and her family because they were in the family business and she was…

She was the ideal they have.

She loves them but there are times when she feels so alone.

Bruce narrowed his gaze at his son. “Your sister is strong and has a strong and kind heart, and full of hope.”

“Then why crush that hope with the things you say?”

“Because being too hopeful can also bring danger to her. It would lead to naivety or, worse, create an idealist or an extremist. It’s good that she understands how the world is. She’s stubborn too. Too damn stubborn…”

Damian watched as his father sat down on the seat and sighed deeply. “She still won’t go to Yale?”

“She refuses until Bunny graduates. But I don’t think that’s just the reason why.”

“Falcone and Maroni.”

The leader of the gangs who were partially involved in the death of Alfred Pennyworth.

Bruce nodded.

Valerie had enough eavesdropping and left. Joining her was Ace II and Andromeda — her pet dog — and they did not return until her mother came to get her at Alfred’s grave.

 ~*~

Terry McGinnis had guts. She’ll give him that.

Days after him calling out in their gate comms, asking to see her father, and then claiming that Powers had something to do with his father’s death and the nerve gas he’s been making with Kaznia, she came home to the sight of Ace and Andromeda tied to the gate with one line. She was about to release them when a batarang shot out and cut it. Valerie looked up and saw her father’s figure standing by the window telling her to get inside immediately.

Terry McGinnis has stolen the Batman suit.

“I’ll go after him,” Valerie told her father.

“No,” Bruce flatout said.

“But Dad!”

“I said, no,” Bruce turned away from her and turned on the Batcomputer. The old thing hasn’t been used for a long time now. “McGinnis, can you hear me?”

“Whose that?” Terry’s voice sounded in the speakers of the computer.

“It’s Wayne.”

“How are you –”

“There’s a radio receiver in your cowl. Now, you need to listen to me, McGinnis. I want that suit back and I want it back now.”

Right, a teenager is going to do what he tells them to.

“Now is not a good time.”

“THAT SUIT IS NOT YOURS! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!” Bruce exclaimed.

It was the first time Valerie ever heard him raise his voice outside of the training mat, and it made her flinch.

“Somebody had to do something. You weren’t going to,” said Terry.”

“I’m warning you.”

Through the camera of the suit they could see Terry running from the guards that were chasing him.

“The suit works better even better than I thought it would.”

Valerie smirked at his comment. Walking up to her father’s side, she watched closely at the feed they were getting. “I wouldn’t taunt him, McGinnis. The old man’s not as patient as he used to be.”

Bruce turned to his daughter with a frown and she just shrugged.

Terry chuckled. “Good to hear from you again, Princess.”

“This is for final warning,” Bruce said, but Valerie was sure that was directed at both of them. “This is your last chance. Better take it.”

“No thanks, I’m having too much fun.”

“Fun, huh?”

Bruce pulled up the protective casing of a button and pushed it. Activating whatever it was he programmed in the suit. In the middle of his fight, Terry’s body was paralyzed with Bruce shutting down the suit.

“Dad,” Valerie said as she saw Terry get beaten up and the teenager asking for help. Begging Bruce to release the system override. When he still refuses to move, Valerie was about to push the button to save him but her father grabbed her wrist, muted the comms, and said to her: “This is the first lesson. For the both of you.”

“He's going to die!”

“Until you understand what's at stake. The risks. You can never go out there.”

Valerie glared at her father. “I know perfectly well what's at stake. I saw it, didn't I?”

“I know. But he doesn't.”

They heard the gun cock. Bruce looked at his daughter and released her hand. Valerie pushed the button and unmuted their comms. 

“McGinnis, I gave you a break. Now bring that suit back,” said Bruce.

“Love too, but I got these guards all over me,” said Terry.

“There's a broom closet up against that wall. Can you get to it?”

“A broom closet?”

“Do it!”

Terry ran to the door and escaped inside the room. “Now, what? I’m sitting ducks –”

Bruce got up from the seat. “Your turn,” he said to his daughter. “Hurry, he needs your help, Penny.”

“McGinnis,” Valerie took the seat before the Batcomputer. “I’ll open a door for you at the far end of the wall.”

“What door? There’s no door there.”

Opening the map of Powers’ building, Valerie focused at the location where Terry was and focused on the image of the prints and creating a path for him. It was the first time ever used her magic at a long distance. Her magic, as her mother would call it, was mostly technological and reality bending magic. She is able to understand anything with a single touch, can recreate its form by understanding its components. She believes it was her interest in technology and engineering that influenced her magic’s outlet. Her mother had the forces of nature, fire, and life. She had technology and reality.

“Walk past it,” Valerie told Terry.

“What?!”

“Do it!” 

“If I walk into a wall…” Terry ran and instead of slamming into a wall, he went past it and was at the other side. “How did you?”

“Now, bring back the suit,” Bruce said at the comms. “If you don’t, I’ll shutdown the suit again. This time, for good.”

“I read up on you, Mr. Wayne. How you lost your folks,” Terry began. “The guy who murdered my dad is in that transport, this is my one chance to nail him.”

Maybe that was what got him. Dick did tell her that Bruce’s way to keep kids like them from joining the wrong crowd was to put them in a colorful costume, spandex, make them fight crime, and find closure. 

“The hover pad is at the Northeast Sector,” Bruce gave in. “After that you come back with the suit.”

Terry chuckled. “You got it,” he said and ran to chase the chopper about to leave with the man he was after. Turning the comms on mute for a moment, Bruce told his daughter. Whether it’s a success or not, you open a portal and you bring him back here when you think he’s in danger. Understood?” He said to Valerie.

“Yes, Sir.”

Bruce frowned. “Val…” he began.

“We can talk about it later, we’re still on a mission… and I still need your help,” she turned back on the comms. “Making sure this idiot comes back alive. I don’t want to have to get a corpse out of that suit and bury it somewhere in the estate where the cops won’t find it.”

“Don’t worry, Princess, this idiot isn’t planning on dying in this suit,” Terry spoke.

“Call me that again and I will shut that suit, McGinnis.”

Bruce smirked and leaned on the computer, watching as his daughter and this young man reminded him how it was before. 

Terry was able to reach the chopper before it could be airborne but it meant he had to find a way to get in while keeping a strong hold while using one of the gadgets in the suit to open it. Inside, he was about to attach the pilots but when he got to the front, no one was there. Who was manning this flight? The question was answered when the man who murdered his father appeared.

Their fight led to them sending the craft crashing to the water, but as soon as the helicopter touched the surface of the water, Terry felt an arm grab him and pull him through something, and one moment he was in a helicopter about to crash into water, the next he was at the floor of the Batcave. 

“What the –” Mr. Fixx began, utterly confused, to find a cave instead of the seafloor. Before he could see more —

WHACK!

Mr. Fixx fell to the ground with a sure concussion after getting hit with a staff. Looking up, Terry found the last person he expected to be wielding it, he was thinking it was Bruce Wayne but it seems everyone in the Wayne family knows how to fight.

“Thanks –” Terry froze when the staff was pointed at his face and at its very end, he saw the high-voltage taser that was threatening to electrocute him.

Valerie smirked. “You’ve had your fun. Now, the suit.”

“And I thought we were getting along well.”

“Wanna join him in the Dreaming?” 

“The what — you know what, fine.” Terry got up and removed the suit, leaving him in his underwear and shirt. “Mind if I borrow some clothes?”

Valerie took the suit and handed it to her father. “I can lend you some of my brothers’ old clothes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.” She turned off the taser from the staff and with a push of a button, the thing shrunk to the size of a baton. The last Valerie heard as she went up to the clock was her father telling Terry: “I’ll call in Red Robin and have him take this one to the GCPD. You don’t need to worry about the GCPD making under the table deals. A contact of ours will make sure that does not happen. And Valerie will open a portal for you to head home.” 

And that was it.

~*~

Mary McGinnis’ home was a lovely and modest place. After knocking on the woman’s door, the Wayne family was welcomed inside by the woman and excused herself to wake her son. Alone in the living room, Valerie helped her father to sit down, even when could do it on his own, and Vivian sat beside Bruce.

“I’ll do the talking,” said Bruce.

Vivian chuckled. “Worried we might embarrass you in front of your new friend?”

Valerie smirked at her father, and Bruce did not appreciate their teasing.

When Mary said that Terry will be out in a bit, she offered the Waynes some coffee and came back with a tray of black coffee with sugar and milk. 

“How old is Valerie?” Mary asked them.

“I’m eighteen,” Valerie answered.

“A few years older than Terry! I guess this is your last year at Gotham Academy, then?”

Seeing how awkward the question was for her, Vivian and Bruce answered it for their daughter. “Valerie graduated three years early from Gotham Academy, she’s now getting a degree in engineering at Gotham University,” said Vivian.

“Is that right? You must be a genius then!”

“After that, she’ll be heading to Yale,” Bruce said, mostly a reminder for his daughter who has been putting off the chance to go to an IV League university.

“I will, just as Bunny graduates,” Valerie muttered.

As they waited, Bruce then told Mary a proposition he had for Terry, one that he and Vivian agreed would be “good” for him. Their small talk got cut short when Terry finally got out of his room.

“Terence, sorry to disturb you at this hour,” Bruce said in a way that was not how Terry knew him to be.

“It’s okay,” Terry shrugged. “You’re Professor Vivian Pryor.”

Vivian got up and shook his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Terrence. Bruce and Val has told me so much about you.”

For a moment, Terry was sure her brown eyes glowed gold for a second there.

“You never told me you knew the Waynes,” said his mother.

“Well, actually…”

“Why, I owe this boy my life. He defended me and my daughter from a bunch of hooligans once,” said Bruce. 

The sight of Valerie raising a brow and getting pinched by her mother almost made Terry laugh.

Bruce continued. “I tried to repay him but he absolutely refused.”

“Mr. Wayne wants to offer you a job,” said Mary.

“I find that in my old age, I can use a part-time assistant. With my wife working more at the Wayne Foundation, and my daughter at university –”

What?! Terry turned to Valerie in disbelief. But she looks like to be the same age as him!

“–I could use a part-time assistant. A goffer. Go-for-this, go-for-that. An ally as it were. Would you be interested?”

“Of course, he would!” said Mary. “It would be wonderful to work for someone as famous as Mr. Wayne.”

“Does it include driving the Princess to her classes?” Terry joked.

Valerie glared at him and his mother chastised him for it.

“I drive on my own,” said Valerie.

“You’re my part-time assistant. And Val doesn’t like having one. She never liked it whenever we would hand her to a babysitter then,” Bruce said, to ease the tension.

“Alright. Yeah, I’d take it,” said Terry.

“I warn you, I can be a difficult task master,” Bruce got up. “I expect nothing short but excellence from all who work from me.”

Vivian got up as well and added, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t take it too far. You’re still young and have a lot to learn.”

“I think I can handle it,” said Terry.

“Very good, Mr. McGinnis,” Bruce shook his hand. “Welcome to our world.”

~ Extra Ending ~

The knock on her bedroom door pulled Valerie from her work. Turning from her desk, she saw her father standing by the doorframe, like a vampire waiting for her to let him in. And like a vampire, indeed, he only stepped in when she gestured for him to enter.

“Need something?” Valerie asked.

“Yes… I simply want to talk,” Bruce sat on her bed and patted on the space beside him so she can join him there. Valerie left her desk to join her father, and waited for what he has to say. “Ever since I retired from being Batman… I know that I’ve changed. I became cold and full of frustration, and I would lash it out on those around me, and sometimes it’s you who gets it. Your mother called me out for it many times and yet she still stays at my side. Patient and understanding… and you have been patient too, my dear, and because of that, I am so sorry.”

“I understand why you’re like that. For almost thirty-five years you were Batman, you had a mission. You had hope, and suddenly something like that happened… then all the work you did is just going back to the very start. What you said is true, though. It’s Gotham who won’t change, and it will always need a Batman.

“And I think with you having McGinnis here as Batman would warm you up a bit. You would smile more, like you always do before.”

Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Bruce took his daughter by her cheek and had her look at him. “McGinnis has his strengths, and you have yours. Things changed between us since I retired but what hasn't changed is how much I love you, Val, and how proud I am to have you as my daughter… this is just your father turning to a senile old man.”

Valerie laughed and brought her father to an embrace. “I missed you, Da.”

Bruce smiled to hear the old way she would call him and held his daughter tight. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Releasing her from the embrace, Bruce placed a kiss on her forehead and got up, bring his daughter with him. “Your mother is in the kitchen making Jason’s favorite.”

“Jay’s coming home?”

“Only to visit, then he’s heading out again. Vivian mentioned that his leg was hurting more now, and he needs another session with her healing. But your mother has called Damian to come and check it out too, Jason’s just stubborn to turn to Damian for help sometimes.”

“Poor, Jay,” Valerie laughed.

“While we wait, mind helping me with the upgrades of the Cave, and to set up a training regimen for Terry? He has the will to be Batman, but he’s still not as good as a fighter.”

“Permission to kick his ass, Dad?”

Bruce laughed. “Granted, Penny.”

[gregorovitch-adler]

Never Leave Me Again

My eyes fluttered open after what felt like ages. After a moment of blurriness, I tried to make sense of my surroundings.

I found myself lying on the floor of the sitting room of 221 B Baker Street.

I must have fainted before.

Holmes was on his knees, towering over me from the left side.

Holmes. Mr Sherlock Holmes. My friend, my intimate companion, the only consulting detective in the world. The man the entire world thought to be dead.

Apparently, even death did not have a chance against him -- such was the power of my Holmes.

"Watson, my boy! Are you all right? You scared me to death for a good minute."

Something about his words ignited a fire in my heart. I clenched my fists in anger and frustration.

"Here I thought you were dead." I braced myself against the floor to be able to sit up. I grunted as I finally sat up straight.

Holmes looked down in embarrassment.

"Scared you to death, Holmes? Do you have any idea what I went through for these three years?" My eyes were welling up with tears.

I bent forwards to grasp his shoulder. Flesh and bones. I used my other hand to squeeze his shoulder properly, just to confirm that he was really there.

Holmes flinched in fear when I squeezed his shoulder. Did he really expect that I was going to beat him? It broke my heart to think he would even consider that a possibility.

"A thousand apologies, my dear Watson. I did not think you would be so affected."

"Why did you not? Did it not occur to you that you were my closest friend?"

"Of course, it did." Holmes' brow was furrowed. "I can assure you that you were not the only one who suffered all this time. I just thought that you would have moved on by now."

I moved a bit on the floor and wrapped my arms around Holmes to pull him in for an embrace. Holmes' arms were around my back now.

"Never." I swallowed hard. "I could never. Why would I even be here at Baker Street right now? I used to come here so many times a month, sometimes even daily, hoping you would come out of nowhere in front of me. I'm aware this was rather lunatic on my part. I could not help myself."

"You cannot imagine how many times I made up my mind and almost sent you a letter to inform you about my whereabouts. That would have been seriously lunatic of me, given how the situation related to Moriarty's network was at that time."

I gently held his head in my hand and pulled him closer. "You did not have to go through all that alone. I was right there with you that day. I always will be there with you."

"I know that, and I trust you deeply. I would never have forgiven myself, though, if something had happened to you because of me, or because of you being with me. I had to be alone."

I was not satisfied with his answer, but I decided to let it go for now.

We kept holding each other like this for a long moment.

"I am sorry."

I nodded in my reply. "How did you do it? There was no escape from the Reichenbach falls."

"I am exhausted right now, dear fellow. May I tell you about it later? I shall tell you the complete facts of the incidents over dinner."

My heart fluttered with joy at the sound of dinner together. I smiled and nodded as I let him go. "Promise me that you shall never leave me again."

Holmes took my hand in his own. "I will never leave you again. Now it's your turn to promise me something."

"What is it?" I asked, getting up from the floor to stand straight. Holmes did the same, and we were now facing each other.

"Move back in." His grey eyes were filled with hope.

"I will." His wish was my command. Always.

Holmes turned around and went to his old bedchamber.

I waited for him to disappear, and then I walked across the sitting room to look out of the window -- thinking about new beginnings with a broad smile on my face.

**

Prompt: Forgiveness by @fluff-cember

Tags: @lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @jamielovesjam @calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @totallysilvergirl @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @gaylilsherlock , etc.

[ii-meeple-confessions]

Honestly the way Mephone's contestants react to him in general and them realizing "Oh this guy is kind of messed up" is so funny to me. Because as much as Mephone tries to hide it through the host persona he pushes onto himself to seem normal, it really doesn't work.

Even before everything (This was in 2016, for reference! -- And this is one of my favourite things ever -- Fan, on his blog, wrote what is essentially a Mephone4 Fanfiction (The link is here: it's on his blog! If you care to read it in full..... https://www.tumblr.com/inanimateinsanityfan/150341850210/fan-blog-confessions-i-confess-i-forced-someone?source=share) (sorry the link doesn't actually work when you click on it) And one of the lines was: "M: Alright.  I just kind of have trouble verbalizing what I really want to say?  So a lot of my thoughts just come out as these little attacks." Continuing into "M: Yeah... they’re just so second nature to me, I say them to fill in the gaps... otherwise I wouldn’t really know how to chime in."

And I think its genuinely so funny that Fan read him that well. Be it fanfiction and projection or not, Fan is right here! Mephone has trouble verbalizing and complimenting others. (Probably because he himself wasn't often complimented by Cobs--) and it leads him to ruining potential relationships. He stokes flames of distrust between him and other people to keep himself safe and entertained, and then gets upset when he's all alone because he can't build meaningful relationships with people.

And people realize this really quickly. For another example, take Mepad. Who quickly comes to see Mephone is wrong in his judgement towards Toilet and in his treatment of the contestants. Or Suitcase, who comforts Mephone multiple times-- I'd have to lag my computer into oblivion to get the exact quote/s, but she's very keenly aware that Mephone isn't alright at that time, and she verbalizes that. The final 4 of season 2 AND season 3 all seem to be aware of Mephones mental health declining.

And again, he DOES try to hide this. When he's upset over Mepad quitting / doesn't know how to handle it, he jumps into his obnoxious host persona to hide his true feelings on the matter. He pushes and shoves and lights a ring of fire around himself, sacrificing his relationships in return for the safety of his host persona.

Right out of Meeple, some of his first memories of freedom, ARE of being a host. He was basically immediately (unknowingly) enlisted by Cobs to be a host. In escaping Meeple and the persona he had to take on to appease Cobs, he fit himself right into another persona. Another set of rules to follow on how to behave to, in his eyes, stay safe.

It fucks me up so bad because the entire personality he constructed for himself ruins so many of his relationships and thus sinks him into a deeper pit of loneliness. At its core, it's self-sabotaging, and I think it's clearest in "Truth or Flare" (S2 E15) when Mepad quits. I mentioned this before!! But GOD it hits so hard. The way Suitcase says she legitimately hates him and he justs stands there stupidly grinning "I'm a scamp for drama!" No sir you are a scamp for ruining your relationships!

All of this rambling is to say Mephones persona is really one of his undoings. Forcing himself into the mold of reality show tv host isn't... Good for him. And it becomes his safety net when it really shouldn't. It hurts me, to see him so earnestly playing it up when we see him interviewing Box. Trying to seem like a seasoned professional, unbothered, but perking up when complimented. But as the series goes on, that host persona becomes a much more angry and unlikeable person. Hardly any good comes from his insults and comments. And he ruins many of the chances he has to make genuine connections with people-- which is something he so desperately needs.

Sorry if this is a little unstructured! I didn't begin this thinking it'd get so long, so it's a bit all over the place. Can you tell I think about Mephone a lot? Anyways, good night! -2G Anon

.

[azelsdoormat]

Azel Radwan Main Story

► Chapter 1

This translation is fanmade and strictly for entertainment purposes only. All media and original content belong to Cybird. Do not use, claim as your own, repost or reupload onto other platforms, reblogs are welcome.

I still don’t know what love is. 

But I want to someday fall in love and understand what it is. 

A passionate love like a rose set ablaze, and a fierce love that stays on for eternity like a woven tale. 

???: I see, I see…

???: How utterly laughable.

(... Who is that?) 

The usual dream I had every night changed the night before I set out on my trip to a foreign country.

It was set in a rose garden where the roses were still tightly closed buds. The space felt undeveloped and incomplete.

There stood an unfamiliar visitor, reading an unfinished tale from a book placed on an oak table.

His appearance was otherworldly, unlike that of any ordinary person.

His hair shimmered under the light of the massive moon hanging from the sky, and his eyes seemed to contain a starry sky within.

That divine, beautiful being who seemed to blend well with the dream’s space gave me a mocking grin as I approached.

Emma: What’s… laughable?

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of what it is.

???: Love is not the grand blessing it is often proclaimed to be. 

???: Sometimes, it would serve you well to remain ignorant and pure for your entire life. You would find far greater happiness that way.

I didn't know what he read from that unfinished tale. 

But this “something”, who clearly wasn't human, directly and utterly rejected what laid at the very core of my heart. 

Emma: And how can you be so sure of that?

???: Because I am a god. 

(... God?) 

???: I have witnessed many examples of “love”. Not in fiction… but rather the raw, unvarnished love that exists in.

???: Far too often, people use “love” as a means to justify their otherwise unjustifiable actions.

???: It is truly tragic to see people driven mad by love.

???: Even the most rational people become unable to live without it.

???: Like a curse.

Emma: …

???: Judging from this dreamscape shrouded in thorns, you must be a lady from Rhodolite.

???: Rhodolite had such a tale too, did it not? About a king who turned into a beast after losing his beloved. 

Emma: … While the story of the late Belle and the king may have been a tragedy, that doesn't mean all love must end the same way. 

???: Fair enough. However, not all love will end as a comedy either. 

???: Why do you yearn for love? 

Words caught in my throat upon hearing the god’s question.

There was no special reason for my yearning. 

It was nothing more than mere admiration, I had never deeply thought about what love truly meant. 

For the first time, I realised that my yearning was but an empty shell.

???: At the very least, love is something I would very much rather do without.

???: — For I am a god incapable of loving people. 

…

(……ん……)

(... Mm…)

Awaken by gentle sunlight streaming through the window, I opened my eyes to see the familiar ceiling of my room in town.

The unbloomed roses and the god who denied love both vanished as though they were nothing more than an illusion.

As I woke up, memories of the dream began crumbling away and were gradually replaced by reality. 

But a fragment of that dream lingered in my heart, refusing to disappear.

(“Love is a curse”... huh.) 

???: Emma, you up? 

A knock on my door banished the remaining drowsiness from my mind.

(This voice… Rio?)

Emma: Sorry, just a minute!

???: Ah, no worries. I’m a gentleman, I’ll wait for as long as you need.

(... I think I just heard a voice that wasn't Rio’s…)

Feeling slightly uneasy, I hurriedly got dressed, washed my face, and tidied myself up before opening the door. 

…

Standing at my front door was my friend, who left his position as a butler to return to town with me, greeting me with his ever so radiant smile. 

Rio: Good morning! You’re absolutely adorable today, as always!

Emma: Yeah, yeah, thanks as usual.

Emma: … What brings you here this early in the morning?

Rio: I came to visit because I just had to see your face.

Rio: And I bought bread. Want to enjoy it together? 

Emma: Thanks, I’d love to. Mmm, smells good…

Rio: It’s from your favourite bakery. They launched a new “fortune bread” today.

Emma: Fortune bread? That’s interesting! 

Clavis: Wait, wait, Emma. We have some more important matters to focus on than bread right now, don't we?

A man forced himself between us and snatched the bag of bread.

(So I wasn't imagining things when I thought I heard another voice.)

I stopped avoiding reality as a means of self-defence and turned to face the country’s most notorious troublemaker— a certain prince with a shady smile. 

Emma: It’s been a while, Clavis. 

Clavis: You could've jumped straight into my arms right off the bat, you know?

Emma: Thank you for kind consideration. Why are you here?

Clavis: Hmm, what do you think?

???: Enough with the theatrics and just tell her already. 

(Huh…?) 

My eyes widened when I saw a tall figure sitting on a wooden crate some distance away.

Emma: Luke’s here too!?

Luke: Oops. My bad, I invited myself into the conversation too early.

Rio: I coincidentally ran into Clavis and Luke earlier on.

Rio: Though, they didn't tell me what they’re here for… 

(I was just thinking it was rare for Rio to come visit me so early in the morning… maybe he’s worried about me.)

Luke stood up from the wooden crate and raised the paper bag he had in his hand.

Luke: Mind if we join you for breakfast?

…

My modest home where I, a commoner, lived was now filled with two princes and my former butler friend…

Our surroundings were both physically and emotionally stuffy. 

Clavis: Emma, you’re heading to Tanzanite soon, right? 

Rio: Ugh… 

The freshly baked bread, along with the sweets Luke brought, bounced slightly when Rio hit his head against a corner of the table.

Clavis: What's the matter?

Rio: … I lose control of myself whenever I hear about that.

Rio: The thought of not being able to see my angel, my goddess, my beautiful fairy Emma… 

Luke: You’re such a drama queen.

(When I first told Rio about my trip, he was completely broken. I guess this counts as an improvement.) 

[ Flashback ] 

Rio: — Emma’s going to Tanzanite…

Emma: Rio, are you okay!? You hit your head on the bookshelf really hard…

Rio: I’m okay… but… why… 

Emma: I’ve heard many stories about foreign countries from the Owner, but I’m most interested in the god who can perform infallible divinations. 

Emma: If such a god really exists, I’d like to meet them even just once. 

Emma: Besides, Tanzanite’s a popular tourist destination. 

Emma: It’s a country in the dessert, but I think it's a good choice of destination for my first trip. 

[ Flashback End ]

(I feel bad for nearly causing Rio to pass out, but…)

(I’ve been really excited every day ever since deciding to travel to Tanzanite.)

Luke: I’m surprised you’re not going with her. 

Rio: The Owner told me to look after the bookstore while she’s away. 

Rio: I really do want to go with her!! What if something happens to her when I’m not there…!? 

Rio: But if staying behind will help Emma feel more at ease on her trip, then I… I’ll… 

Clavis: Haha, you can be rest assured about that. 

Clavis tore off a piece of the bread in his hand and ate it, savouring it in delight before swallowing. 

Clavis: Because we’ll be her bodyguards in your place.

Rio: Oh, is that true? Thank goodness, I feel relieved—

Rio: — Wait, that won’t do—! What is that supposed to mean!? 

(Seriously, what does he mean by that!?) 

I almost dropped my fortune bread but managed to catch it in a panic. 

Clavis: I mean exactly what I said. 

Luke: We’re going to Tanzanite too. 

Luke stuffed a whole honey-coated pastry in his mouth and licked his fingers.

Luke: I didn't wanna go at first because it’s too bothersome, but Chevalier ordered me to take care of some diplomatic matters.

(Going to Tanzanite during this period of time means…)

[ Flashback ] 

Akatsuki: Politics have been unstable lately.

Emma: Is it because of… the Three-Nation  Alliance?

Akatsuki: Yeah. None of the countries have made any moves at the moment, but this feels like the calm before a storm. 

[ Flashback End ]

(... I’m an outsider now, so it’s best for me to refrain from getting involved.) 

Clavis: Since we’re all leaving for Tanzanite at around the same time, why don't you come with us?

Clavis: We plan to take the route that passes through Benitoite. If you ride on the royal ship, your transportation is basically free. 

Clavis: I can already picture you crying tears of joy. Ah, you don't even have to say it, I already know.

Clavis: You’re so lucky to have the privilege of travelling to a foreign country with your beloved Clavis— 

Rio: OBJECTION! 

Rio shot up from his seat with a start in the cramped room and pointed a finger at Clavis.

Rio: People always say that there's nothing scarier than something that comes free. What's your real motive? Out with it. 

(As expected of Rio. That’s what I want to know too.)

Clavis took a deliberate sip of the tea I brewed and paused as though to savour it…

His wet lips then curled into a meaningful and bold smile.

Clavis: What do you think?

Luke: Don't say such things that mess with people. There's no deeper meaning at all. 

Clavis: Read the room, Luke. 

Luke: You read the room. 

Luke: This guy ordered every official to report anything interesting about Emma to him. 

Emma: So you were made aware of my trip to Tanzanite because…

Luke: The official who issued your travel permit ratted you out. 

Emma: Is that not abuse of power!? 

Clavis: What are you talking about? It’s for work.

Luke: This guy found out about your first ever trip and got all “amused” by it. 

Luke: He even volunteered to personally make a trip to Tanzanite, and I got stuck with the job of babysitting him thanks to Nokto. 

Luke: He said “I feel bad for Emma, so I’ll send at least one sensible person to go along”. 

(Thanks, Nokto!) 

Luke: But if you’d rather not deal with his crap, I’ll take personal responsibility to bury Clavis in the woods for you. 

Clavis: No need to worry about that. Emma is shaking with excitement, isn't she?

Luke: … You should get your eyes checked out before we leave the country.

Rio … I’m worried. I’m very worried.

(Since I’m not travelling alone, I should probably discuss this with the Owner…) 

(But with both Clavis and Luke accompanying me, having familiar faces in an unfamiliar land does make me feel more assured.)

After mulling it over, I furrowed my brows and tore the fortune bread in half.

Emma: Oh?

(Something fell out from inside.)

It was a small porcelain figurine that resembled a horse with a horn, standing proudly in my palm. 

Rio: As expected of Emma! You hit the jackpot.

Clavis: Hm… the unicorn is indeed currently considered the continent-wide ultimate symbol of “good luck”. 

Emma: Is that so?

Clavis: Yeah. You should keep it as a good luck charm. What a great start to your journey. 

Clavis: After all, unicorns hold a special symbolism in a country in the desert. 

(I don't exactly associate unicorns with deserts, though…) 

Emma: If that’s the case, it does seem like it’ll bring me blessings.

Luke: You’re always a good person, anyway. Even without a unicorn, I bet lots of positive things will happen to you. 

I gently cupped the unicorn figurine in my hand. 

The unexpected stroke of luck felt encouraging, like it was telling me that my current most honest feelings were right. 

Clavis: So, Emma, you’re travelling together with us, right…? 

…

The gateway to Tanzanite, the country of deserts, divinations and illusions was a bustling port thriving with merchants, much like Benitoite. 

…

Emma: We’re in Tanzanite! 

(Although… I expected more sandstorms because I was told that it’s in a desert.) 

The lively streets looked nothing like a desert.

However, the animals roaming the streets and the people’s clothing were clearly distinct from those in Rhodolite or Benitoite. 

Along with the scent of spices wafting through the air, it was undeniable that we were now on foreign land. 

(We’ve really come a long way.)

Akatsuki: Our destination is still far from here. It’s too early to get excited. 

The Owner, carrying loads of goods for trading, came to stand next to me. 

I was carrying a bag filled with books myself, but it was nothing compared to his load. 

Emma: Should I help carry some of that?

Akatsuki: No need. I usually carry it all by myself.

(That's easily 100 books over there… I can't believe he carries them alone.) 

Clavis: We offered to help too, but Akatsuki sure is hardworking.

Luke: I told Emma I’d help carry her stuff too. 

Clavis and Luke whom we travelled on the same ship with packed lightly as compared to us. 

Emma: Thanks. But since this is my first time sourcing for goods, I want to carry my own baggage. 

Emma: Selling books in a foreign country and purchasing new ones…

Emma: I’m so excited to see how greatly my bag’s contents will change on the way back to Rhodolite.

Luke: Someone’s being really energetic.

Clavis: Akatsuki is lucky to have such a good assistant too.

Clavis: By the way, where are you two headed to after this?

Akatsuki: We’re meeting someone.

Emma: … We are? 

I followed the Owner’s gaze that shifted unnaturally and saw a strikingly beautiful woman standing there. 

(Wow…) 

She wore vibrant ruby red clothing and was adorned in glamorous accessories that rivaled the Owner’s outfit. 

Standing next to her was a bespectacled man with a gentle appearance. He smiled when he noticed us and approached.

Bespectacled Man: We’ve been expecting you, Akatsuki. And this is…?

Emma: I’m Emma, I came as the Owner’s assistant. 

Basil: Ah, I read about you in the letter. A pleasure to meet you, please call me Basil. 

Basil: And this lady over here is Kamal.

Kamal: …

Kamal smiled seductively and pulled out a stack of papers from which she showed me a piece with the words “it’s nice to meet you” written on it. 

Basil: As you can see, Kamal can’t speak. Please communicate with her through writing. 

(I see…)

Emma: Understood. I look forward to working with you both.

Clavis: … Hm.

As we exchanged pleasantries, Clavis stood nearby rubbing his chin. 

Clavis: You must be emissaries of the living god, correct? 

(... Huh?)

Basil: Well done! You noticed right away. 

Clavis: The symbols of faith you wear make it easy to figure out. 

Clavis pointed at his own chest.

Basil and Kamal gestured to their chests too, where the clasps of their cloaks were fastened. 

(... Now that I took a proper look at them, the clasps have unicorns on them.)

(Are those the “symbols of faith”?) 

Clavis: I was told in the past that the unicorn ornaments are worn by those who are close to god. 

Clavis: And a few years ago, I recall hearing about a book merchant Azel especially favoured. 

Clavis: I had my suspicions, but it seems that Akatsuki has some rather prominent clients. 

Emma: Is god… one of your clients? 

Akatsuki: Regardless of whether they’re god or royalty, a client is a client. Nothing more, nothing less.

(He never mentioned this to me!)

The Owner whose facial expression remained unchanged suddenly appeared far more impressive than I had initially thought of him to be. 

Basil: We have always been the ones to guide Akatsuki during his visits to Tanzanite. 

Basil: Prince Clavis, Prince Luke, please proceed in that direction. Emissaries from the Royal Court are waiting for you. 

Clavis: Haha, not only for me but for Luke the newcomer too? How insightful indeed. 

Clavis: Rhodolite didn’t send any prior notice about who would be coming. Is this another prophecy from the living god? 

(...!) 

Basil: That’s correct. Lord Azel is truly impressive. Is this a good time to talk about it? It is, right?

(He suddenly started speaking really fast…) 

Kamal mercilessly smacked Basil on the head as he adjusted his glasses. 

She then took out her stack of papers again and showed us the one that said “let’s go”. 

(... That sounded like she hit hard enough to crack his skull. Is he okay?) 

Luke: Then I guess this is where we go our own ways.

Clavis: I’ll personally come to meet you again, Emma. Before you start crying from loneliness. 

Emma: I don't think I will, but until next time. 

(So… we’re going straight to meet the god now, right?)

(I’m starting to get nervous.)

(I wonder what kind of person a living god is like.)

…

Azel: Thank you for taking the trouble to come all the way out to such a remote location.

Emma: Oh!

[kedsandtubesocks]

I immediately thought of merman!Joel when I saw the pic of Pedro's. So my question is... how is reader not bouncing on it if Joel's this hot....

Babe you are so right and you know what? More merman!Joel is what we deserve

cw: 18+ only merman fucking, that’s it / slight possible exhibition kink- there’s probably so many errors rip I’m sorry

You get one taste of Joel, one taste of the ocean’s primal hunters, and it unleashes a tidal wave in you. You get addicted to the salty taste of the sea that dances on his skin. The feel of his tail against your legs. The absolute way his cock manages to stay cool inside you and slicks up in a way that makes you see stars.

In the dark when you meet him on the shoreline you now have become hypnotized by the way the waves crash against your legs as you’ve moved on top of him. It’s getting dangerous being so reckless, fucking him out in the open, especially away from the cover of his cave like bones of a home. But it’s like you’re become unleashed, and Joel isn’t helping.

It’s a quiet day on the beach. And without fear of your mom and family spotting you, you’ve taken the time to enjoy sitting on the shoreline reading your book as Joel swims among the sparkling waves.

Chest above the glistening water he seems like any other man, yet he isn’t. He’s myth reborn, a beautiful temptation you want to hoard and you even sneak a photo of him on your phone, hoping to just catch and capture even a glimpse of him to keep forever. When this son of the sea calls to you with his own siren song you slip into the water.

His teeth, sharp like shells that scrape at your skin, become a dizzying sensation. You already feel the bump against his front tail grinding against you.

You’ve thought about it, trying to fuck him here against the waves, wonder if it’s even possible.

But when you turn, greedily start to kiss him, a wave towering and powering, barrels into you. The saltwater gets up your nose, stings your eyes and makes you cough.

Joel snickers and you pout, splashing water at him. He looks so damn good like this, hair slicked back, soft warmth of his eyes.

The flickering bout of annoyance you had at him vanishes instantly as you now drag you closer to shore.

You whisper your need against his mouth. He rewards you by breathing out your name drenched in a sacred desire.

Under the watch of the warm sun, the sprinkles of the waves crashing against your legs, Joel towers above you a protective shadow. It’s not in the water, but having him like this in the middle of the day where half of his body, his powerful lower tail is free to see, is the most reckless.

But you don’t care. You’ll let yourself live in this saltwater daydream for as long as you can.