#11:36 pm

[lovemehatemex0]

I wish I could have what I want.

[raedas]

succession music makes my chest hurt

[vesselsofmercy]

don’t say forever to me unless you’re talking about the eternal and omnipresent nature of our Lord and Savior JESUS CHRIST we are too grown

[spaceheadcadet]

I've been hyperfixated with a RnM for about two months now. Fairly new into the fandom, I know. Feeling kinda late, but oh well. And I like Doofus Rick. Especially after seeing a blog that drew him so well, I just can't stop. It made me really sad that I'm two–three, eh, heck many years late into this small wonderful side of the fandom. Anyway enough about the rant. I'll just post the thing I typed.

P.s. I haven't thought of a title yet.

It's a reader insert and I don't know how slow I can get the burn going. But here's part 1. Not proof read so I hope it's coherent.

It was raining when you saw him for the first time. Right in front of his yard, just standing alone and drenched in cold…from the heavenly tears falling down the sky. How melodramatic. Not that you judge the guy. You were just concern. 

Surely he’d be sick by tomorrow. Because your weak ass immune system definitely would. 

You were on your way to the old house that night,  the house you inherited from the man who made you never acknowledge the word father in your entire dysfunctional life. Just another ordinary night under the wailing sky, on your way to that cold shelter after a tiring day at work. You were fairly new into the neigborhood so you ignored him at first. Days turned to weeks and the rumours soon reached your notice, giving you more reasons to ignore the man with a blue bowl-cut hair. 

They said he was weird and something else you decide to dismissed until proven. 

Still it made you no better than the rest of the people that always belittles the man, turning your head the other way, passively you were still considered as an accomplice. But what good will it even do if you’re a nobody trying to survive just for another day. 

So, you carried on, passing by him multiple times whenever it rains or whenever you saw him into a nicer weather, you ignored him. Nothing but a coward hiding behind the mask of indifference and excuses. 

On some occasions you would see a glimpse of an entirely different persona on the man, whenever he was interacting with the next door neighbors. He was all smiles, naivety emitted from his demeanor, like a child wearing oversize clothes to pass off as an adult. Entirely different from the times you saw him standing under the rain. He was also a soft spoken fellow with an occasional stutter either caused by anxiety or a condition. 

You never understood how he could keep acting like he wasn’t ridiculed between hushed conversations and judging eyes. Always been optimistic or simply keeping himself into this safe bubble of blissful ignorance. Or how he was still treating everyone with kindness even though most of his efforts to reach out were usually reciprocated with a cold shoulder. 

And you were no different from them after he knocked on your door one morning, offering to help clean up the overgrown and neglected yard, another attempt to get to know you. Although his intention was pure coming from the polite offer, you halfheartedly decline. You didn’t want anything to do with him. 

Annoyingly on the next day it made you finally mow the lawn and clean up the overgrown in the backyard. It took a few months of ignoring the state of the house before you finally got the motivation needed to clean and fix the damn place, all thanks to the neighborhood's doofus(it’s mostly what you’d been hearing from the people around) knocking on your doorstep. You hoped that would be the last he would bother you. Since the first(giving you a box of cupcakes as a welcoming gift) interactions you got from him immediately garnered side glances in your direction. 

Sometimes you wished you were not so emotionally restrictive sometimes. To have even a miniscule amount of care to enact compassion instead of sticking by the comfort of apathy. 

Maybe time would come when you gathered enough courage to do something, even a small act of kindness. But for now you turned your head the other way, in the safety by him getting out of your field of vision. 

…

Neon signs and street lights blur behind the window, droplets of the rain started pelting on the glass. The sound of it stirred you out of your shallow-dazed sleep. It’s raining again. A tired resigned sigh fogged the cold material seeping through your forehead. 

Everything felt heavier, sluggish, and dizzying. You blinked off the dizziness fogged your vision.

Fucking great. 

Soon the bus slowed into the halt reaching the bus stop, it was your stop. Unsteady from intoxication you stumbled almost tripping forward, when the driver finally hit the break. You really hate your aunt sometimes, showing herself unannounced in your work, and dragging you to have a drink with her. 

A hasty apology blurted out of your mouth when you grabbed into one of the steel pole, startling the old man near it. You continued scrambling out of the bus until you get out with slurred thanks for the driver, and then run towards the waiting shed. Resting a bit on the bench you rummaged inside your bag for the folded umbrella. The rain went harder as if the sky was punishing you. You’re going home with a pair of wet socks and shoes again. Ugh, it didn’t help that you were barely walking straight. But the urge to eat and drink something just to remove the aversive sweetness at the back of your tongue, along with the burning emptiness in your stomach, maybe even brushing your teeth twice to be sure afterwards, was enough motivation for you to finally move your drunken ass. 

The umbrella opened with a pop and you walked towards the direction of the house with a slight sway in your gait. 

Your lips curved from a wince when the cold water started seeping through. Soggy fucking socks never felt good, one of the reasons why you always hated the rain. 

Hate. You always hated things. The prominent emotion you had growing up, so you grew to hate things that were constant in your life, just like the rain, just like the taste of the alcohol coated on your tongue. You hated that you had to walk wet all the way through the house. The damn house that was thrown into you because it was old, ugly, rotting, along with the people that had never been part of your life, either physically and emotionally. You hate–

Damn it! 

You stopped, eyes casted down on your shoes. You needed to stop or your thoughts will spiral back into that dark room. 

The hollowness in your chest itched the urge for a smoke. To fill your lungs, the sting, and burn down your throat just for the momentary feel of fullness expands in your chest. 

Desperate for a distraction to latch on to something, anything that will prevent you from further fanning the flame of self-hate just to keep the empty coldness in your chest consumed you.  

You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. Sighing heavily you looked up again, walking with more urgency this time. After taking a right turn, although your vision blurred a bit from moving your head faster towards the certain direction, a routine your attention gravitated to without fail, again he was there. 

Another variable that becoming constant in your life. 

Fueled by spite and vodka you stop on the other side of the street right in front of his house. This guy, what was so bad in his life that he have to stand under the fucking rain every time. Why does he act like the most pathetic human being right now? Why couldn’t he stay smiling and be naive? Why did you have to see this every time? 

The march came to a halt when you reached his unmoving figure, head tilted up in the sky, eyes shut from the world around him. Up close he looked…mournful. Calmly making peace with the antagonizing torrent around him. Like crying through his eyes wasn’t enough anymore that he had to cry along the sky. 

Stretching your arms forward you extended the umbrella towards him. Coldness started cascading the side and back of your head down to your nape, easing a bit of the heat caused by the alcohol and temper.  

He must be so deep in his mind that he hadn’t noticed your presence, but soon enough the lack of the rain hitting his face tugged him back in the moment. At first he only looked at the dark underside of the umbrella, then his head dropped, aligning his vision in your direction. He stared at you for a while, eyes still in deep before the awareness slowly stirring. 

A shake in your arm from the ache urged you to grab his cold hand guiding it on the handle. Both of your hands pressed his to secure the hold on the handle before you let go. And without saying a word you left. 

“Wait!” 

You pretend you didn’t hear him but you overestimate your ability to stride when your legs were barely stable, you were on the verge of puking your guts out, and head throbbing from the heaviness of exhaustion. 

So, color you surprised when a hand landed on your shoulder and the force of his pull easily knocked your balance. You forgot to take into account that your clumsiness shines whenever the alcohol was absorbed into your system. 

Stepping behind to rebalance yourself only resulted in slipping onto the wet surface before gravity won, once again. 

“Aw, geez, you slipped. Are you alright?” 

In an instant he was helping you, pulling you back up. The umbrella crookedly wedged between his neck and shoulders in an attempt to keep the umbrella upright.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” you grumbled while stabilizing your balance again. 

“Why shouldn’t I? You just left your umbrella, not that I don’t appreciate the gesture but now you are all wet. And I’m already drenched, so I don’t think I will need the–”

Damn you forgot that he rambles. “Keep it. You look like you need it more than I do.” You said ignoring most of his ramblings. 

He kept following you though and trying to cover you from the rain with the umbrella you’d just given him. Annoying long legged creature. 

“But I already own a few. I don’t need–”

“Then maybe use it next time. That’s its purpose after all.” You spat a little when a drop of rain hit your mouth.

“If you know its purpose then why are you giving it to me? You own this after all. You shouldn’t. You.. Why…why are you suddenly doing this?” 

You really wanted to reach your–the house faster and puked until your vision get hazy from tears, puked until you were sobbing and barely holding yourself up from the intensity of it, then maybe just maybe it would expel all the hate festering your insides, leaving holes. Then maybe you could stop latching into the battered mask from the accumulated resentment, finally let yourself grief, be free. 

“Because I need to feel the rain.” 

The crack in your hardened voice oozed the pain underneath the piled bricks of hate, built up like a pillar where you placed all other emotions you have. High, unreachable, detached from the world around you. And the crumbling pieces get into your eyes looking up in resignation, watching your stability crumble. 

You didn’t bother looking back, not even a glance to make sure he was still following you, not even when you no longer heard his footsteps. 

Trickles of hot and cold contradiction trailed on your cheeks. You just wanted to rest your tired eyes, lay down and just sink even for a moment, in the pool of your bottled up emotions. Then maybe this time you would be soaked enough of it to fill the pit inside. Hold all of it back inside and hope you are strong enough under pressure, the weight of it all the love that left nowhere to go.  

…

Fingers tapping hastily on the screen of the phone, you promised you’d never walk under the rain ever again. You didn’t regret it, but you were not doing it again. 

An itch in your throat spasmed a cough out of you. It came into strings, chains of events that after the bouts of scratching your throat in a form of dry coughing, now you feel it all raw. Sore throat was one of the signs your immune system had been compromised. 

You tapped the send. A simple notification for your supervisor that you couldn’t make it in the studio today. You even used your Aunt for a lame excuse, it’s her fault anyway. Forcing you to have a girls night which always entails consuming a large amount of alcohol. Always easier to blame others than hold yourself accountable, wow, you really do progress—ing further into being a POS. 

As you waited for the reply you grabbed the jar of honey in one of the cupboards for your tea. You clicked your mouth shut after the yawn, wincing from the pain when you swallowed again. 

In your temporary office, multiple boxes were still stacked in the corner of the room, a faded silhouette of squares and rectangles left on the obnoxious green wallpaper(not even the nice shade of green), some parts were even ripped from the posters you tore. You clean the questionable room and attempt to convert it into a small studio. But you still have a lot of work to do, for the room to be in your standard. Yet in the meantime it was better to have a clean workspace. 

When your dopamine was a poltergeist your motivation was equivalent to non existence at this point, except from the few hauntings every now and then.

So, yeah, for now you’d stick with a clean workspace. 

Knowing your supervisor the moment you open up your email you already got a job order. Man, even the concept of life and death didn’t jolt your supervisor even a bit, always the diligent asshole. 

An hour of editing later you needed another cup of tea for your throat and maybe food for your grumbling stomach. You almost grabbed a packet of cigarette and lighter, staring at the item contemplating if you would risk it. At the end the cigarette left untouched. 

Back in the kitchen you stood in front of the open refrigerator blankly staring inside the cold contraptions. You close it taking a deep breath before opening the ref again as if you were expecting the food in your mind wouldmanifest itself. 

There were times when you hated this tedious part of living. This was one of those days. 

Grumbling a curse in your native language you gathered the remaining vegetables and chicken breast. Chicken soup was better than nothing. 

You were in the middle of making another tea after dumping all the ingredients and seasoning in the slow pot cooker, when a knock on the door startled you.

Uhm, you were not expecting a visitor today or even ready to acknowledge the existence of your Aunt just yet. 

Yeah, you were not expecting him standing on your doorsteps again. You stepped back on the door after peeking through the peephole. This is for getting involved, you guess. 

The lock clicked and the door swung open. 

“Hi, neighbor. You must be c-confuse why I’m here again. I won’t take long of your time–”

As he explained his reason for his sudden visit you hear the annoying high pitch voice of the next door neighbor. You purposefully leaned out of the door frame and stared in their direction to announce your presence. Ticked off by the obnoxious one sided conversation the bitch is having with her mother, you started talking back. 

“I know hearing aids are a bit expensive but you better invest some of yourself a pair then maybe you’ll know the difference between inside voice to outside voice. Not that I care about your opinion though,” you clear your throat “I just don’t like hearing your whinny grating voice Susan.” 

Although Susan(not her real name) starts talking shit, her mom winces since she understood the sentiment, while you winced for a different reason. 

“That’s not nice,” he whispered. 

You looked up at your visitor, hand still covering your mouth as you cough. How long did you have to talk? It was irritating your throat. 

“I’m not nice,” you just set the stone further. 

He frowned, disappointed that didn’t shy away from his expression. 

“And not a liar,” you didn’t know why you added that. It kinda slipped out…for some reason. You sighed and held out your hand. 

Blue hair swayed to the side as he tilted his head displaying his confusion. God, your patience was already wearing thin when you could still hear the annoying neighbor’s voice now muffled by the confine of their house, the mom must have dragged her inside. 

“The *ehem umbrella. You said you’re here to return it.” Totally ignoring the other part of his speech. 

He looked even more disappointed when he unfolded both of his hands from his back, handing the umbrella to your waiting hand. 

A glimpse of the tupperware still in his other hand further confirmed the source of his disappointment. 

“How long will the muffins last?” 

And like a puppy finally getting his headpats he perked up. Still his enthusiasm had a pinch of confusion. 

“If you must know, these will last for five days if you keep it in this container,” then he showed you the tupperware. “Although the muffins taste the best when you eat it on the same day it’s baked. I was hoping you would like it freshly baked. W-why are you asking?” 

Unfolding your arms you point your throat. “Sore throat. Can’t eat sweets for a while.” 

“Oh, no. You got sick because you left your umbrella to me last night.” 

You waved off his concern. “It’s already sore from all the tequila shots from last night’s drinking. Along with my smoking habits,” you really wanted to end this conversation. 

The lanky blue haired neighbor on the other hand had something else on his mind as he pushed the tupperware in your arms. 

“I’ll be back,” he even gave you a reassuring smile

You watched him run towards his house, perplexed from what was that all about. What did you just get yourself into?

Not even a full hour until you heard knocking on the door again. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweater you slowly made your way towards the door. Before you open the door though you pull up the hood of your sweater enough to ease the chills on your nape. 

Your expression stays neutral as the guy greeted you with his signature buoyant smile, emphasising his buck teeth further. 

“Here, I made you a medicine for your throat,” he proceeded to show you a labelless bottle. “You just have to gargle fifteen millilitres of this for forty-five seconds. Make sure to time it right. Although this tastes more unpleasant than the regular oral antiseptic solution, it will soothe your sore throat in an instant.” 

This guy really talked a lot. You're just being polite listening to him till the end of his speech, but sometimes you wished he would make it short. And did you hear him right? He made it? Examining the labelless bottle, watching the orange liquid with concern. More concerned about the possible taste instead of the possibility of something horrible. 

“Thanks,” you cleared your throat again as you croaked. 

“You sound worse than before.” 

You just hummed this time. You’d been coughing a lot earlier, even nauseous since you are still recovering from getting stupidly drunk last night. 

“Have you eaten anything yet? Do you n-need help with anything else?” concern became dominant in his tone and he had this look like the two of you were already a long time friend. 

His sudden full blown concern didn’t settle well with you, even though you knew he was all good with his intentions you’re not used to genuinity. And you couldn’t berate him since you felt like sand had been poured in your throat. 

“Don’t bother. You’ve helped enough already,” you stepped back and held the door but you paused, having a second thought to just be a piece of shit as usual. “Thank you again, Rick,” you gently closed the door behind you but not without noticing the surprise, opening his eyes wider, looking comically wide awake than ever. 

The door clicked shut. 

…

Well, you survived. 

The medicine the neighbor gave you was indeed effective. The day after you were back to normal. Still the same indifferent bitch but cured of common sickness for a fragile peasant like you. 

As for the neighbor that helped you, only a few small things had changed. Like a simple nod from you when he waved in your direction. At first he looked utterly confused, eventually he seemed to accept that was the only form of greeting he would get from you.

You also received small packaged treats hanging on your door knob since you only get home twice a week because of a major project the studio got recently. 

Torn from this development you kept glancing on the cookies packed in a small plastic packaging secure with a baby blue ribbon. 

With a deep breath you let your back slumped on the backrest of the office chair. You raise your hand and reach for the anti-rad glasses your Aunt gifted you, and removed it. 

A groan prompted out of you when you stretched your back, arms extending, another tense muscles unravelled, before dropping your arms. 

Dull white ceiling encompassed your vision. You couldn’t wait for the project to reach its completion. Cramped up in the office for too long was making you sick.   

Curtains of brown hair and a pair of gentle brown eyes appeared on the edge of your vision, peering down at you. “Hey, wanna take a break?” 

“Not yet, T. Go take a break without me. I’m just stretching my back a bit.” 

His face moved out of your vision like he was pulled away. “Alright, but maybe you should stop teasing yourself with that cookie,” he left with a good natured chuckle on his trail. 

“Mind your damn business, T,” you grumbled feeling a bit annoyed. 

Silence ruled the small room, making your thoughts louder once you were alone again. 

Long deep breaths sucked the cold stale air through your nose, for a second you held your breath before slowly blowing it out through your mouth. You repeated the breathing exercise and stopped when lethargy was comfortably sitting on your shoulders. A push from your arms you pulled yourself upright and reached for the glasses beside the graphic tablet. As you pushed the glasses back your eyes it landed back on the cookies on the corner of your desk. 

The sound of the plastic crinkling disturbed the silence of the room. Up close you already had a feeling that the flavor of the cookies was another miss. 

It seemed like he made the whole thing a guessing game for the lack of feedback from your end. Might as well try it since everything he gave you so far was all good. 

Raisins

Soft chime of laughter rippled into the stagnant quiet room. 

…

“Soooo, are you gonna tell me why you asked for a drive to the grocery store?” pair of brown eyes peering suspiciously at you from the rearview mirror. 

“Please stay being my good friend, T.”

“First of all, I’m your only friend which instantly gives me the vacant spot for the best friend position. Second, you never cease to be creative, especially when you are avoiding something. Third, I am your best friend, not your complacent pleb,” he checked on you again through the rearview mirror. 

“Now I feel attacked.” 

“One of the privileges.”

“I’ll take it back then. This is an exploit.”

“Sorry no take backs. Nuh, uh. The pack is permanent and you sign it, Helen even witnessed the exchange of agreement. You shall face my wife’s wrathful curses if you stop respecting the pack. And it will be a very ugly affair,” he said with the voice he usually used when he was doing the impersonation of his wizard oc.  

“Oh, my, god! Stop it you nerd,” although you were shaking your head you were having a hard time holding your laughter from the fond memories. “Ok, ok, you got me. I suddenly crave a home cooked meal. Getting fed up with consecutive days of take out.”

This time you saw him looking sad, possibly missing his son and wife. “Yeah, me too. I miss Helen’s cooking and my pyjamas.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I want to sleep on an actual bed. I need my heavy pillow.”

T, makes a gagging sound. “You need a boyfriend, asap.”

“Can you not! The pillow is like the equivalent of a weight blanket.” 

“The need to have something heavy beside you, is an equivalent of unmet need for physical touch, buddy.” The car finally stopped. “You can’t stay living like a single goblin for life.”

“Bet.” 

“Oh, I’m telling this to Helen,” then he started doing his evil laugh. 

Head shook from hilarity but the giddy babbling in your guts kept stretching your lips into a tender smile. “Damn it, Thomas! Don’t ruin my goblin life fantasy.”

Chuckling as he tucked the stray strands of his long hair behind his ears, he finally exited the car. “No can do. Now come on. The goblin lord needs to do their shopping.”

…

Familiar smell of the savory seafood dish in your home country continued teasing your appetite. Sure you missed the place from time to time, paid a visit multiple times a year as much as possible. But that was before. Now all you could do was just reminisce about the old times. 

The egg almost slipped out of your hand while peeling the shell, getting lost in your head again. Your shoulders sagged, the sound of your huff was thick of nostalgia, homesick to the place that was never yours. 

You shook your head and redirected your emotion at bashing one of the eggs on the countertop harder than necessary. This time you pick up the pace of peeling the eggs for the toppings. 

Maybe it was time for another cigarette break. 

…

You swore the next door neighbor will be the death of you. You stepped out of the damn house just to smoke in peace, and next thing you were helping old poor Victoria pulled the dumb raccoon out of the gap in the wooden fence. 

While Susan screamed in the background. 

“Vicky. Ma’am for the sake of my eardrum, calm your daughter down,” you said, almost pleading with the older woman. 

Dumb raccoon and its fatass. You tried prying the wood so it could wiggle out of the gap but you forgot this furball doesn’t have the ability of the cat. And the only way to remove the helpless animal was to pull it out. 

You made sure the sleeves of your hoodie were down just in case the furball decides to get too feisty. It screeched louder when you pulled it bit by bit. When you unstuck half of its upper body you grabbed it by the nape. 

The raccoon kept fighting in your hold as you carried it towards the elder woman. 

“Throw it! Throw that ugly thing away!” Susan kept chanting. 

And being the shit you were, you swung the animal towards her. The woman screamed bloody murder while she scrambled away. 

“You shouldn’t keep feeding this fatass, ma’am.”

“Oh.” Vicky’s face sagged upon frowning. “I always wanted a pet. But you know my daughter’s husband. He didn’t like animals,” she said as she played with the hem of her blouse. 

You looked up in the sky and hoped you had enough patience remaining not to get involved. It hurt you that the old lady couldn’t enjoy doing what she loves because of some asshole’s opinion. Vicky was old and she deserved to live and enjoy what she wanted. 

“I’m sorry, Vicky.” 

“No, it’s ok. Thank you for helping me. You are right though. It got bigger,” chuckling Vicky took a last look at the raccoon, there was a sadness in her eyes as she smiled in resignation. 

“It’s fat for getting spoiled by a sweet old lady,” you said smiling back at her as you readjusted your hold on the animal. 

Vicky chuckles but it didn’t sound cheery per usual, waving goodbye at you on your way out of their lawn. 

On your way out though you saw another neighbor standing on the doorstep of the house. The whole interaction with Vicky already drained your social battery, added that there was still this fatass in your clutch you needed to take care off. 

Back facing you, his shoulders look wider from the lack of his usual white coat. So, he owned other clothes besides his usual get up. Kind of remind you of Thomas from the initial stage of getting to know the guy. 

“What do you want?” you asked in a tone firmer than earlier. 

His shoulder hitched, obviously startled from hearing you out of the house. 

“I’m just checking if you are ba–why do you have a raccoon?” he asked, pointing at the wriggling furball in your hold. 

“Tried being a food burglar next door. Fatty got stuck on the wrong gap of the fence.” 

“You helped Katrina?” 

What a waste of a good name for an awful person. 

“If you mean the screeching pig next door Susan, no. I helped Victoria.” 

That woman didn’t deserve her mother’s love. It kinda pissed you off that was why you never acknowledged the woman by the name her mother bestowed.

“Screeching pig? That’s not a nice thing to say. And her name is not Susan,” he said, reprimanding you again. 

“I’m not nice. And she does sound like a pig. Anyway, what are you doing here?” 

He followed you all the way to the backyard. Searching for something to temporarily contain the raccoon before bringing it to the nearest animal shelter later. 

“Aren’t you releasing the raccoon?”

You breathe through your nose before expelling the air through your mouth, so closed on snapping at the man. 

“Can’t. Not here.” your jaw clenches as the trash panda continues thrashing. “I’ll bring this fatass to the animal shelter or Victoria’s son in law will hunt this one,” too. 

But you can’t find anything of use. You doubt the box will keep the feisty thing contained. 

“I-I have a carrier if you want you can borrow it.” 

You look at him like he just told you the project in your work is magically done. “Yes, please. Because my fingers are starting to feel numb and this fucker is really, really heavy.” 

“Oh, ok. W-wait here.” Then he was running, long legs stretching into a wide stride. 

The raccoon squirmed again when you switched the hold to your left. 

“Sorry buddy but you have to be away here or you’ll be eating rat poison next time,” Victoria will definitely be devastated again if another animal stinks up dead somewhere in their yard. 

Soon, the lanky neighbor returned with the white carrier, just in time before the ache in your fingers became unbearable. He even helped get the feisty creature in the container. 

“Are you going now?” 

Huh, you almost forgot he was still here. Crouched in front of the faucet washing your hand, you remained quiet. 

Did he think he could meddle with your business just because he lent you the carrier? 

Shaking the water off your hand and waiting for it to dry you took another look at the raccoon. 

“Yeah, why?”

When your hands were less wet you proceeded to rub it on your pants. From the wooden bench adjacent to the wall laid the cigarette and lighter, you grabbed it and about to light one, but paused when the man with buck teeth spoke of the information that entirely slipped out of your mind. 

“Do you k-know where the nearest animal shelter is?” 

Dumb moments, eh, it's natural you got some of those. Although you knew an animal shelter, it was a bus ride away. 

Blowing a long string of smoke to your side away from the standing man near you, you notice him fidgeting, fingers tapping at his side. 

“No. Do you?” you asked even though you have an inkling he’ll start running his mouth again. 

“Oh, yes, I know. In fact it’s the same place where I brought Ms. Carrot—before. I’m still sad about that last visit but I don’t mind taking you there,” and indeed he looks sad, heartbroken even. 

If he fucking cried you swear you’d gonna lose it. 

“Hey, you don’t have to come if it brings back sad memories. Just give me the address and I’ll take it from here.” 

Conflict was obvious by the furrow right in the middle of his unibrow. Hesitation took form by the multiple times his lips parted, words just kept hanging right on the edge, unsaid. 

“It’s fine. Just tell me the address,” you pull out your phone and tap the notes. “I’m still going to drop by for the carrier afterwards.” you held your phone towards him. 

He stares at it for a moment then stares back at you. 

“I’m sorry but I only o-owned a landline phone,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. 

What? Did he just thought that–

Your other hand holding a cigarette moves toward your face, the heel of your palm digs into your eye, rubbing it. You couldn’t level with this guy anymore. 

“Type the address on the phone,” your jaw clench shut in an attempt to grind the insult you choose to keep to yourself. 

Shame colored his face flush of red and he scrambled to grab the phone to save a bit of his dignity. 

“I-I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to exchange numbers with me. N-not because of s-something else. Definitely not s-something else,” awkward chuckle shakes his hunched shoulders. “I’m not trying anything, I swear. J-just wanted to be friends,” he looked all tense as if he was already anticipating some backlash, from the way he moved with caution. 

You took the phone back as he gingerly held it out to you. And a quick apology stuttered out of him again before rushing out of the property.  

Guess you broke the dork without even the intention of doing so. He’s lucky you have a high tolerance for a guy like him.  

A friend, huh?

The cigarette butt scrunched under the force from getting pressed into the ashtray. You just noticed the stickers on the carrier now that you were staring at it with your full attention. 

“A carrot cake? How can vegetables turn into a cake?”

You asked the old woman smoking beside you. 

“That’s the magic of baking and cooking my little sweet tooth. You can make anything taste good if you know what you are doing.” 

Stretch of genuine smile pulled on the darken wrinkled lips of the blurry face looking down at you. Reminiscent from juvenile years slowly faded by the passing of time, yet you still latched on to the pieces of those memories like a lifeline. 

“Time for a walk, fatso,” you said pertaining to the raccoon circling inside the container. Off of the bench you grabbed the carrier and left after checking the location through a gps app.

…

Not expecting the whole 360 of your entire afternoon, you were now standing in front of Rick’s doorsteps, waiting for the door to open and be done with all the socializing for the day. 

The door creaked open, it stayed ajar for a bit before it slowly swung open. Rick greeted you with an awkward smile force on his lips, and before he could speak again you handed him the carrier. 

“Thank you for letting me use this, Rick. And, yes, the visit went well. The volunteers will release the trash panda into the wild tomorrow where it belongs. That’s all.” 

Not waiting for any response you turned around and left. Hungry and mentally drained, you just want to get back in the house. 

“Wait!”

Two steps more and you were out of the property but you were still compelled to stop, human curiosity you guess. You cocked your head urging him to speak. 

“I want to apologize for earlier, for assuming that–that you’re asking for my number. I got a bit carried away, got a bit confident–that we are some sort of friends now.” 

Huh, your brain was no longer braining because of the grumbling of your stomach. Besides the fact that you already got a lot going on in your brain and he just had to add himself in the chaos.

“Look, I’m not upset about it. But about the friend thing. I don’t know about that. Acquaintance, maybe?” you offered. 

“Oh. Yes, of course. Acquaintance. That made sense.” 

Disappointment was nothing new to you. But seeing it on someone with a genuine intention did sting. Especially when you knew he didn’t have a proper connection with people around him, you even heard from Vicky that the man has been alone ever since moving in the neighborhood, no family or relatives visiting, no significant other…nobody. 

“I better get going. Thank you again, Rick.” 

“Ok, goodbye–” The sound and the way he uttered your name was like the clutch from the sleeves, scared…desperate. 

Although you were used to jumping off the boat even before the boat barely sailed away from the shore, it didn’t mean it gets easier to swim. 

Each step still weighs heavily on your ankle. Another chain of shackles was added to the collection.  

Ugh, why do you keep getting involved with lonely people. 

[tsumnoda]

should i go to sleep now then wake up at 3 am to watch the race and write my research paper or i write now until 3 am, watch the race and then sleep

[ace-detectiv3]

That feeling you get when you just drank coffee with added extra shot of espresso but you forgot to choose the no sugar option so now you're in the in between state of hyper and so fuckinh sleeby

[deer-watchers]

@ghost-hunting-gays see u sookn

[moreaujeans]

i lov. not studying <3

[freshthoughts2020]

[stefisdoingthings]

can yoy tell im really truly tired

[beabdboo]

scooby dooby type shiiiii

[bullshit-bulltrue]

i'm gonna kms

[aceyalonso]

a winners celebration - LANDO NORRIS

pairing : lando norris x best friend!reader

summary : win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around

warnings/notes : swearing, drinking, smut, unprotected sex (please use a condom!), overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, oral (both!receiving), praise kink, use of "baby" and "good girl", pussydrunk!lando lowkey, 69, dacryphilia

word count : 5.3k

a/n : i miss race weekends | there's a lot more plot to this compared to the previous days

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

September 22, 2024 - 10:36 PM

Lando was riding a high of adrenaline and joy as the checkered flag waved at the finish line, signaling his victory at the Singapore Grand Prix. His team swarmed around him, celebrating and congratulating him for the hard-earned win, but it was the person waiting in the pit stands that caught his eye.

Y/n stood there, smiling and waving, watching Lando's success. He couldn't help but grin wider, seeing his best friend's proud expression. He knew that she had been there cheering him on, supporting him every step of the way.

Lando quickly shook off the other team members, making his way over to where Y/n stood. He walked with a slight swagger, still riding the high of the race win. Once he reached his friend, he flashed a cocky smirk, before enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Told you I'd win." He murmured jokingly, pulling back to look Y/n in the eye.

Y/n laughed, returning the hug and rolling their eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're so full of yourself." She teased playfully, punching him lightly in the arm.

Lando just chuckled, shrugging. "Hey, can you blame me? I just won the damn race. I feel like I could take on the world right now."

She chuckled at his boastful statement, shaking her head in amusement. "More like your ego could take on the world. Careful, your head might not fit through the doors anymore if it gets any bigger."

He gasped in mock offense. "Hey, my head is the perfect size, thank you very much." Lando protested jokingly, running a hand through his hair. "Besides, you love my ego and you know it."

Y/n rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Your ego is just so charming, how could I resist." She replied sarcastically, pretending to swoon.

Lando looked at Y/n apologetically. "I hate to cut this short, but I gotta go give some interviews and stuff. But I'll meet you in the hotel lobby in a bit, and we'll go out and celebrate. Sound good?"

She nodded, understanding. "Yeah, no worries. Go do your press stuff." Y/n said with a smile. "I'll see you in a bit in the lobby."

Lando nodded, already turning to walk away when he suddenly stopped and turned back, a mischievous grin on his face. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek before realizing what he'd just done.

He froze, realizing how he may have crossed a line. He quickly blurted out a "thank you" and turned away, heading off to do his interviews while leaving Y/n shocked and confused by the unexpected display of affection.

Y/n was left standing there, feeling her cheek where Lando had kissed her before walking away. They were both shocked and confused by his actions, unsure of what to make of it.

Y/n took a moment to compose herself, shaking her head to snap out of the daze and heading back to the hotel. As she walked, she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss on the cheek. Did it mean something, or was it just a spontaneous act in the heat of the moment? Y/n wasn't sure, but the thought of it made her chest flutter.

September 22, 2024 - 11:43 PM

An hour or so later, Y/n was waiting in the hotel lobby, just as they had agreed upon. She was sitting on a plush couch in the lobby, scrolling through her phone, when suddenly, they heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, there you are."

Y/n looked up from her phone to see Lando strolling toward her, looking more casual now that he wasn't in his race suit. He was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and messy from the helmet. He gave her a charming grin as he approached.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. The interviews took longer than I thought they would." He said, sitting down next to Y/n on the couch.

"It's all good," Y/n replied with a smile. "At least you're free now, and we can go out and celebrate."

Lando leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah, I'm all yours now. So, what's the plan for the night?"

Y/n stood up, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Alright, we're going out for drinks. I know a great bar nearby that has the best cocktails. Sound good?"

Lando groaned as she grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the couch. "Hey, can a guy get a little break after winning a Grand Prix? I just sat down." He protested jokingly, feigning resistance.

Y/n just laughed, not releasing her grip on his wrist. "Nope, no breaks. We're going out to celebrate. Come on, get up." She tugged him lightly, urging him to follow her.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Fine, fine. I'll come, but only because you're practically dragging me out the door." He grumbled dramatically.

She smiled as she led Lando out of the hotel, still holding onto his wrist. "And the bar is just a few minutes walk from here, so it's not far," she said, glancing at him. "Plus, some fresh air will do you good. You probably need to clear your head from all those interviews, anyway."

Lando huffed in agreement, secretly enjoying the feeling of her holding onto him. "Yeah, the interviews were exhausting. I swear, they ask the same damn questions every time. I could give all the answers in my sleep at this point."

Y/n chuckled, giving his wrist a playful tug. "Don't get yourself too worked up. We're here to have fun tonight, remember? No thinking about interviews or racing or any of that stuff."

Lando smiled, nodding in agreement. "You're right, you're right. Tonight is all about letting loose and celebrating. No work, no racing… just us and some good drinks."

She grinned at that, and they continued walking until they reached the bar. The place was buzzing with energy, music could be heard from inside, and the neon signs above the door flickered alluringly.

Lando gazed at the bar, seeing the lively atmosphere within. "Looks like this place is popular," he commented, looking down at Y/n. "How did you even find this place, anyway?"

Y/n looked up at Lando, a smile on her lips as she answered his question. "Oh, I came here with Alexandra for a girls' night out a few months ago. It's a pretty cool spot. Good drinks and good music."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've already been here? And you didn't tell me about it until now?" He feigned indignation, giving her a playful nudge with his elbow.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, a playful smirk on her face. "Hey, it's not my fault you were partying it up in Ibiza while I was here in Singapore. You weren't exactly available for bar hopping."

Lando chuckled at that, conceding her point. "Alright, alright, fair enough. I was having a blast in Ibiza, but I guess I missed out on some good bars here in Singapore."

Y/n gave Lando a teasing smile before guiding him into the bar. The music inside was even more vibrant, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. They found a spot at the bar, and Y/n gestured for Lando to sit down next to her.

Lando took a seat on the barstool next to Y/n, glancing around the place. The bar was dimly lit, with colorful lights casting a warm, inviting glow over everything. People were gathered around, chatting and enjoying their drinks, adding to the lively atmosphere.

Y/n called the bartender over and ordered a cocktail for herself. Then, she turned to Lando and asked, "What do you want to drink? Something strong, or something a bit fancier?"

He contemplated for a moment, leaning against the bar. "Hmm, I'm feeling like something classic tonight. I think I'll go with a gin and tonic."

She nodded, relaying Lando's order to the bartender. "One gin and tonic for the grand prix winner, please," Y/n said with a smile. The bartender nodded and began preparing their orders.

Lando chuckled at Y/n's remark, his ego slightly boosted. "You know, I could get used to you calling me a grand prix winner." He said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Y/n chuckled and rolled her eyes at Lando's comment. "Oh, come on. This isn't your first win, Norris. You've won two races before this one, remember?"

He glanced at Y/n, a sly smile on his lips. "Yeah, but this time it's different. You were actually here to witness my win. And I must say, it felt fucking good."

Y/n smiled mischievously, deciding to tease Lando a bit. She leaned closer to him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I see what's going on here. You have such a huge crush on me, don't you?"

Lando chuckled at her remark and responded with a hint of banter, "Hey, hey, that was high school, alright? We're adults now. We've moved on and grown past all that silly crush stuff."

Y/n chuckled as well, enjoying their playful banter. "Is that so? So you're saying you don't have a crush on me anymore?" She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her face.

He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. "Yeah, yeah, I've totally moved on. No more silly crushes here." He took a sip of his gin and tonic, clearly not fooling Y/n for a second.

She just smiled, not believing him for a moment. She knew Lando well enough to know that he was just playing tough. "Uh-huh, sure you have. And the moon is made of cheese, right? And pigs can fly."

Lando huffed in mock indignation, trying to keep up his act. "Hey, I'll have you know, I'm a sophisticated man now. I don't have crushes like some high school kid. That's all in the past."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh loudly at Lando's statement. "Oh, because those flings totally prove you're over crushes and completely sophisticated now, right?" She teased with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her sarcasm. "Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I've had a few flings and whatnot, but that doesn't prove anything. That's just casual stuff, not the same as having a crush."

She grinned and rolled her eyes again, amused by Lando's attempts to deny his feelings. "Oh, c'mon, finish your drink. We're here here to celebrate and let loose. Let's go out there and dance a little, shall we?"

Lando downed the rest of his gin and tonic with a smirk. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. Let's go dance." He stood up from his barstool, offering a hand to Y/n.

Y/n took his hand with a smile and hopped off her own barstool, following Lando toward the dance floor of the bar. The music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and a group of people were already dancing on the floor.

He led her into the midst of the dance floor, finding a spot for them to dance. As the music played, they both started swaying and moving to the beat. With each step and move, their bodies would occasionally brush against each other, sending sparks of electricity through them.

She could feel her pulse quickening as she danced with Lando. Their bodies moved in sync with the music, each step bringing them closer together. The atmosphere was electrifying with Lando so close, the heat between them undeniable

Lando's fingers gently traced small circles on her hip, the touch sending shivers down her spine. The music and the people around them seemed to fade into the background as they swayed together, their eyes locked onto each other.

He couldn't resist pulling her even closer, their bodies now pressed against each other. Lando's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they continued to move to the music. Her scent, the way she felt against him, it was driving him wild.

Lando's lips, hot and needy, began to trail kisses down her neck, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. Everywhere his lips touched sent a rush of heat through her body, a small gasp escaping her lips.

His tongue darted out, tracing a path along her sensitive skin, his lips alternating between soft kisses and lingering nibbles. The sensation was maddening, her mind clouding with desire as he continued his exploration of her neck.

A soft moan escaped Y/n's lips as Lando continued his assault on her neck. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her body arching against his. "L-Lando," she gasped softly, her voice filled with a mixture of need and desire.

Y/n's words were barely above a whisper, her voice hoarse with need. "Not here," she repeated, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. Lando had the exact same thought running through his mind.

Lando pulled back reluctantly, his lips leaving her neck with a final lingering kiss. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way she was gripping his shirt. He knew exactly what she meant, and the same need was burning through him.

"Let's go," Lando murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He took her hand in his, the skin-to-skin contact sending another jolt of electricity through them.

The two of them practically sprinted out of the bar, the cool night air doing little to cool their ardor. The hotel wasn't far, but the short walk felt like an eternity as their bodies practically ached with desire.

They reached the hotel lobby, their breaths coming out in slightly ragged pants. Lando led Y/n towards the elevator, practically hitting the button to call it impatiently. As they waited, Lando turned towards Y/n, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and need.

As the elevator doors open, Lando gently shoved Y/n into the elevator with the doors quickly closing behind them. As the elevator began to move upwards, Lando backed her against the wall of the elevator, trapping her between his body and the cold metal.

Lando wasted no time, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands came up to cup her face, holding her in place as his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips.

The kiss grew more intense, and Y/n found herself responding to him. Her body melted against his, her hands gripping his shoulders as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Lando…" she whispered, her voice filled with need.

The elevator continued to ascend, and Y/n's mind was clouded with need. Lando's lips left hers briefly, only to blaze a trail of hot kisses down her neck. She found herself arching against him, whispering "More…please" as her body ached for his touch.

Lando seemed encouraged by her pleading, his hands roaming her body as his lips continued their assault on her neck. He pressed his body against hers, his hips slowly rutting against her in a teasing rhythm.

"Gods, you're driving me crazy," Lando muttered, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands moved lower, cupping her hips and pulling her impossibly close so they were flush against each other.

Lando grudgingly pulled back, reluctantly detaching his mouth from Y/N's neck. The elevator doors opened with a soft 'ding,' signaling they had reached his floor. Lando stepped back, reluctantly removing his hands from her hips.

His eyes burned as he looked at her; her lips slightly swollen, skin flushed, and hair disheveled. The sight of her sent another jolt of need through him, but he managed to resist the urge to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he gestured for her to follow him down the hallway towards his hotel room.

Lando fumbled with the key card, opening the door to his room. He ushered Y/N inside, his eyes never leaving her. The moment the door shut behind them, Lando pushed Y/N against it, and the sound of the door slamming echoed in the quiet room.

His body pressed against hers, trapping her between the cool wood of the door and his warm, solid frame. His hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as his lips crashed against hers in a passionate, bruising kiss.

Y/n and Lando were both feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed earlier that night. Their inhibitions lowered, they found themselves drawn to each other, their bodies pressed close together as they made out passionately against the door.

Y/n's heart raced as Lando's lips met hers, their tongues entwining in a sensual dance. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his strong hands roaming over her curves. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Lando's hands slid down to Y/n's hips, pulling her even closer to him. He could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest, and it only fueled his desire for her. His lips trailed down to her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses along her skin.

Y/n tilted her head back, giving Lando better access to her sensitive neck. She could feel his teeth grazing her skin, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, holding him close as he continued his assault on her senses.

Lando's strong arms easily lifted Y/n, carrying her over to the nearby bed. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he laid her down gently on the soft mattress. The movement caused her short dress to ride up, revealing the tantalizing sight of her light blue lace panties.

Lando's breath caught in his throat at the erotic view. He drank in the sight of Y/n's long, toned legs and the delicate fabric barely covering her most intimate area. Desire coursed through his veins, his arousal growing with each passing second.

Y/n looked up at Lando with lust-filled eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips. She could see the hunger in his gaze as it roamed over her body. Slowly, teasingly, she reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties.

"Do you like what you see, Lando?" Y/n purred, her voice low and seductive. She slowly started to slide the lace down her legs, revealing more of her smooth, creamy skin, before putting them back on teasingly.

Lando knelt before Y/n, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he leaned in to leave a trail of hot kisses along her smooth skin. "God, I fucking love this view," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so pretty, so perfect."

Y/n shivered with anticipation as Lando's lips moved higher and higher up her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath on her sensitive skin, and it only heightened her arousal. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him closer to her aching core.

Lando's fingers hooked into the waistband of Y/n's panties, slowly pulling them down and off her legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes feasting on the glistening wetness between her thighs. "You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

Unable to resist any longer, Lando leaned in and ran his tongue along Y/n's slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. She let out a gasp, her hips bucking against his face as he continued to explore her most intimate area with his tongue.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more frequent as Lando devoured her like a man starved. His tongue delved deep into her dripping folds, lapping up her arousal. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks against her sensitive clit, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh god, Lando! Yes, just like that!" Y/n cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him firmly against her as she ground her hips against his face. The obscene sounds of his mouth on her pussy filled the room, mixing with her moans.

Lando groaned against her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. He could feel her thighs beginning to quiver and tense around his head, signaling her impending release. Determined to bring her over the edge, he redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on her clit as he thrust two fingers deep inside her tight cunt.

Y/n's eyes flew open as she felt Lando's fingers suddenly plunge into her wet heat. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and filled with shock and arousal. Their gazes locked, and the intensity of the moment sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

Lando's fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit, the dual stimulation pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Eyes on me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against her sensitive flesh. "I want to see your face when you cum."

Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Lando's fingers worked their magic inside her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, the connection between them only heightening her pleasure. Her body tensed, the coil of tension in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending orgasm, and he doubled down on his efforts. He sucked hard on her clit, his fingers pumping furiously in and out of her dripping cunt. He wanted to feel her come undone, to watch her face as she lost herself in the throes of passion.

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, Y/n finally reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. "Lando!" she screamed, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando continued to work her through her orgasm, his fingers and tongue bringing her down from the high. As her body went limp, he pulled back and looked up at her with a satisfied grin. "That's it, baby."

Lando stood up, his face glistening with Y/n's juices. His eyes were dark with lust, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. With a growl, he quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly on the floor until he stood before her completely naked.

Y/n's gaze roamed over his muscular body, taking in every inch of his tanned skin and hard planes. Her eyes zeroed in on his impressive erection, standing proud and ready. She licked her lips, already craving more of him.

Lando climbed onto the bed, crawling over Y/n's prone form. He hovered above her, his hips nestled between her thighs. "I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock."

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, using her heels to urge him closer. "Then take me," she breathed, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me hard, Lando. Make me yours."

Lando positioned himself at Y/n's entrance, the head of his cock teasing her slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from her core, beckoning him to plunge into her depths. With a swift thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside her, groaning at the exquisite sensation of her tight walls enveloping him.

"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Lando grunted, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. He set a relentless pace, his thick cock stretching and filling her with each powerful thrust.

Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she reveled in the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed by Lando. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips rising to meet his every stroke. "Yes, just like that!" she cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Lando's thrusts grew harder and faster, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove into her again and again. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his every move. "You're so fucking tight," he growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm crashed over her. "Oh god, Lando! I'm cumming!" she screamed, her walls clamping down around his throbbing cock.

The sensation of her coming undone around him pushed Lando over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released his load. But instead of staying inside her, he pulled out at the last moment, his hot seed spurting onto her stomach and breasts.

"Fuck, Y/n," Lando groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself onto her. Pulling out, he watched as his cum coated her skin, marking her as his.

Barely giving Y/n a moment to catch her breath, Lando lifted her up. His strong hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and positioning her so that she was straddling his face. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, his voice muffled against her dripping folds.

Y/n gasped as she felt Lando's tongue delve into her sensitive cunt, his lips and teeth nipping at her swollen clit. Her hands braced against the headboard, her body already trembling with renewed arousal.

Lando's hands gripped her ass, spreading her open for him as he devoured her like a man possessed. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Lando!" Y/n cried out, her hips grinding against his face. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Y/n's eyes drifted down to Lando's cock, still rock hard and glistening with their combined juices. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she brought her lips to the tip of his member.

She placed a soft kiss on the head, her tongue darting out to lap up the drops of precum. Lando groaned against her pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Encouraged by his reaction, Y/n took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth.

In the 69 position, they pleasured each other with reckless abandon. Y/n bobbed her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper into her throat with each pass. Lando's tongue delved into her folds, lapping up her sweet nectar as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As Lando's tongue worked its magic on Y/n's sensitive clit, she could feel her orgasm building rapidly. Her hips bucked against his face, her moans muffled by his thick cock filling her mouth. She took him deeper, her throat constricting around him as she gagged on his length.

Lando's own pleasure mounted, his cock twitching in Y/n's mouth as he approached his climax. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. With a final, powerful thrust of his tongue, he sent her over the edge.

Y/n's scream of ecstasy was cut off by Lando's cock as he erupted in her mouth. Her eyes watered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to swallow his hot seed. The sensation of his cum hitting the back of her throat only intensified her own orgasm, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Lando's insatiable desire for Y/n showed no signs of abating. As they both came down from their intense orgasms, he pulled her off his body, repositioning her so that she was straddling him. He leaned back against the headboard, his hands gripping her hips as he guided her onto his still-hard cock.

"Ride me, baby," Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you bouncing on my dick."

Y/n's body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. She placed her hands on his chest for balance, slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing member. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he stretched her once again, filling her completely.

She began to move, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples as she rode him. The combination of pain and pleasure only served to heighten her arousal, her walls clenching around him with each thrust.

Y/n's movements became more erratic, her body struggling to keep up with the relentless pace Lando had set. "I can't... I can't take anymore," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Be a good girl f' me," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I know you can take another round."

Tears streamed down Y/n's face as she tried to comply with his demands. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. But the thought of letting Lando down was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain and exhaustion as she continued to ride him.

Lando could sense her struggle, but he refused to relent. He wanted to push her to her limits, to see just how much she could take. His cock throbbed inside her, the sensation of her tight walls clenching around him driving him closer to the edge.

Despite her exhaustion, Y/n found the strength to continue riding Lando's cock. Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, rising and falling as she took him deep inside her. The pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a heady cocktail that left her dizzy with sensation.

Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh. He pinched her nipples, twisting them slightly as he watched her face contort with a mix of pain and pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Take it all for me."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of keeping up with Lando's relentless pace. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending release, and he doubled his efforts. His hips bucked up to meet her downward thrusts, his cock hitting that special spot inside her that made her see stars. "Cum for me, Y/n," he demanded, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching as she felt her orgasm approaching. She gritted her teeth, pushing herself to the limit as she rode Lando's cock with increasing fervor. Her walls began to flutter around him, signaling her imminent release.

"Oh god, Lando!" she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm going to cum!"

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust up into her with powerful strokes. "That's it, baby," he growled, his own release building. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."

With a final, desperate thrust, Y/n reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping down around Lando's throbbing member as she came undone. The sensation of her tightening around him was too much for Lando to bear, and with a guttural groan, he erupted inside her, his hot seed filling her with each powerful pulse.

As they both came down from their intense orgasms, Lando leaned forward, capturing Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss. His hands caressed her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that still clung to her lashes. "You did so good, baby," he murmured against her lips. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/n's body went limp, her head resting on Lando's shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel his cock still inside her, softening but not yet fully withdrawn. The sensation was comforting, a reminder of the incredible pleasure they had just shared.

Lando continued to pepper her face with gentle kisses, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and affection.

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

[sei-rq]

about that latest oneshot you wrote... how do you think rin will react when he found out that his best friend and his big bro is now a thing? will he actually start crashing out or will he just go "wow you're stupid for falling for my brother"

pt.1

best friend, itoshi rin has noticed some changes in your behaviour as of late, normally he'd just assume it's because of a new show/series/character that you're choosing to obsess over.

but no, this is different, you've been distant, more secretive, less talkative, always looking at your phone, grabbing it the second it beeps with a notification, smiling at your phone more often, and rin— rin is not okay, at all.

because as much as he would never admit it out loud, he misses you, this is so sappy because you're right here, next to him, but at the same time you're not.

he misses your constant chatter about what you did for the day, the constant 'ding' in his pocket coming from his phone due to your daily messages, he misses the occasional late night calls when he's too pent up from soccer to fall asleep, or when you're too stressed about an exam that's due the next day, listening to your whining about how you're sure you'll not make it this time around.

but you always do, because rin is here.

he wouldn't let you slip away, not when he's around.

so, why was he feeling off about all this, you've been closer to him ever since you first came to his house, you come over more often now, the routine goes like this:

dinner, rin dragging you to watch movies, some video games, random talking until he ends up falling asleep and you're gone by the time he wakes up in the morning.

something is off.

and then he starts to have his suspicions, sae has been acting strange, far stranger than you. it's weird because ever since his brother came back from spain, they haven't spoken much.

but everything feels different.

he notices instantly.

ever since sae started to put more effort in his looks, his clothes, he's wearing his hair down more often, he's always in a good mood not that his face says anything different, it's just— he looks happy.

and rin? he'd be glad, because sae has been treating him like he used to, slowly but surely they're going back to their old ways, starting with those popsicles they used to get when they were kids.

this time, rin's luck doesn't play by his side.

you lose.

he looks down at the stick in his hand and then towards his brother, who takes the finished popsicle out his mouth to see the text engraved on the stick.

...

you win.

rin expects sae to scoff at the stupid thing and say how something so insignificant can't judge his luck like he used to do.

but no.

it's there, so, so, so fucking faint, but it's there— a smile on his lips.

"i'm going to put this away, be right back." the older itoshi says as he gets off the couch, leaving rin with his thoughts.

just what has gotten into the people around him?

his question answers itself, when he hears a 'ding' next to him, he grabs it thinking it's his phone, probably something from you, he doesn't have notifications on for people other than his family and you.

it's not his phone.

but he can't be bothered to care because—

you [11:47pm]:

hey, come over today? i got your favourite chocolate and i have practice in a few days so i'll probably be busier, i need my fill of someone stupid til then.

cariño [12:29 pm]:

hii

i think i can!!

i'll ask rinnie if he can hangout tonight then >:D

also bribing me with chocolate isn't fair <\\3

you [12:36 pm]:

i simply made a request with no ulterior motives.

spoiling my partner is seen as a crime these days?? how bad has society gotten.

cariño [12:40 pm]:

suree, keep telling yourself that..!

see you tonight, I love you <33

...

he shuts the phone off as soon as he hears sae's footsteps coming back to the room.

and before he knows it, he's back in his room, the door locked and his ears hot and ringing. he grabs a pillow off his bed, tossing it to the picture he has of him and sae on his desk, which is childish but rin's vision is blurry and his eyes feel hot.

it's not fair, not fair, not fucking fair.

his chest hurts, physically hurts. it feels awful and he feels nauseous and his head is ringing loudly.

why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why?—

he knows, it's you. not that the stupid nickname sae has saved you as gives it away, that's far from it. it's not even the profile picture, you under soft white sheets where only the upper part of your face is apparent, eyes closed as though it's the safest place on earth, with not a care about anything else but your slumber. and the worst part is, he recognises the background, the bed, the sheets.

and it's not even the familiar texting style. it's the pet name that you've insisted on calling him since you've been friends. rinnie, the name he hates so much but doesn't comment on because he likes hearing you say his name. he recognises you instantly.

why the fuck does itoshi sae get everything? does he not have enough of his own things? why is he stealing away the one thing rin had kept to himself, the one thing rin had allowed himself to be selfish over. it's not fucking fair— why his best friend?

he was planning on taking it slow, he thought he had finally found someone that understood him, someone that he could trust with ease and he doesn't do feelings, but he was willing to try, so why?

why now? when he has realised his own feelings? when he was planning on asking you out? right after he finished with blue lock and the u20 match, when he was waiting for the perfect day to finally have you? to make you his?

and if it isn't already enough, his phone buzzes on his desk.

and the universe mocks his existence.

stupid owl [12:40 pm]:

rinnieee.

can I come overrr :000

stupid owl [12:47 pm]:

rinrin?

rinniepoo

loml, star of my eyes rinrin !!

we can even watch that new thriller that came out recently !?

stupid owl [12: 55 pm]:

rin? you good? you're not even 'seen' zoning me like you normally do, woah! :((

...

okay, if itoshi sae wants to play like that, so fucking be it. rin isn't a kid anymore, he can be mature about this— and by mature he means..

you [1:00 pm]:

sure.

why don't you stay the night?

[rynwrites4fun]

Eyes On Me | Jack Abbot x Popstar ! Reader

Jack Abbot x f!Popstar !  Reader

Summary: You’re a breakout popstar on your first headlining tour. Fame hit fast—sold-out shows, screaming fans, and nonstop momentum. But behind the scenes, it’s overwhelming. You’re struggling to keep up with the pressure and pace. After collapsing backstage after a show in Pittsburg, you’re rushed to the ER—where you meet Dr. Jack Abbott.

Word Count: 6491

Warning: Age Gap (mid 20’s/late 40’s or early 50’s,) Mentions of mental health struggles discussions of suicidal thoughts/behavior

Author's Notes: Hi I’m ryn. Honestly this fanfic was is for myself LOL. Jack Abbot x Popstar ! Reader has been circling in my brain for the last 3 days and I just had to brain dump a story. Sorry for any grammatical errors and/or inaccuracies and unrealistic aspects. Like I said brain dump I just needed to get this out of my head before I went crazy. This is just for fun. Okay, enjoy.

Pittsburgh—night 22 of 36 shows on your tour across North America, all crammed into two relentless months. 

Your career had skyrocketed overnight. One day, you dropped your first single, Hands and the next, your song was all over the radio. Suddenly, you were doing live performances on late-night shows, Hollywood events, and festivals, posing for magazine covers, releasing your debut album Sultry, and now headlining your first tour. 

Performing and creating music was everything you ever wanted, but it came at a cost. You’ve been silently struggling for a while now. The pace, the preassure, expectations, the sheer magnitude of it all were starting to wear down—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You just wished you could hit pause. Slow it all down. Everything was happening so fast. You were trying to figure out how to process it all. And beneath all that, you felt incredibly lonely. 

You were exhausted, but you kept going anyway. You had to. People depended on you, your fans, your team, the crew, your label. You didn’t want to let anyone down, so you pushed through, running on fumes, but after tonight's show, it finally caught up to you. Once the curtains closed and your adrenaline wore off, you collapsed. 

—-

11:25 pm Dr. Jack Abbot reads on the computer at the ER’s Central station. His shift had started three hours ago, and so far, it had been uneventful. A few drunkards in a bar fight, some run-of-the-mill illnesses, the occasional kitchen mishap—nothing out of the ordinary. The night was still young. 

“We got the bus coming from PGG Paints Arena. ETA 5 minutes” a nurse calls out. 

“Heard!” Jack shouts as he types. 

“Oh skin to skin, your touch feels like a sin- I want you can’t you see, I need your hands all over me…” Doctor John Shen sang under his breath a high pitch voice as he picked up a clipboard off the central counter and scans through it. 

John continued to mumble words. Jack raised an eyebrow, glancing up from the report he was typing up to look at his fellow attending.

John could feel Jack's eyes and looked up at him. John shrugs “Hey, Hands is a catchy song…gulity pleasure” he said, unbothered by being caught singing something vaguely suggestive. Jack didn’t ask—he just assumed it was some pop song.

“Never heard of it…” 

John was shocked. “You’re kidding! You never heard of Hands?” It’s all over the radio- pretty sure it's ranked at number 3 on Billboard Hot 100.” 

Jack sighs, “I don’t listen to the radio, or pop music for that matter, Shen” 

“Right, you listen to a police scanner in your free time like you’re-” John drops his voice into a gravelly imitation and makes a grump face “Batman”

Jack rolls his eyes, continuing to type.

“Honestly, if nightshift were a superheros you’d definitely be Batman- you know, you finding comfort in the dark and all-” John was a talker, already veering into one of his usual tangents. 

“Anyway, the singer of Hands, biggest Popstar in the world right now- she had a concert tonight at the area- she’s sold out 36 shows across North America– impressive honestly–”

Jack was only half-listening—actually, not even that. He hummed and nodded anyway, pretending he was following along. Jack usually zoned out when John was on his tangents when it was something not related to work. 

 “You should listen to her stuff, it’s actually really good! Her album Sultry—I’ve been playing it on my way to work some nights. For a debut album, it’s pretty solid. Bop after bop, banger after banger—”

“Don’t you have patients to attend to, Shen?” Jack cut in, needing him to stop yapping.

Jack looks over his shoulder, his attention drawn to sudden commotion in the ambulance bay behind him. Muffled noise, shouting, screaming, and strobe of camera flashes lit up the glass of the automatic doors. The chaos was visible—but just barely contained.

“What the hell is going on?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he fully turned around, and straightened himself from hunching over one of the computer monitors.

“The bus just pulled up,” John says

“Yeah, but-”

Before Jack could take a step or say anything more, the automatic bay doors slid open. The muffled noise from outside crashed into the ER like a wave.

The paramedics burst through, wheeling in the gurney. The head of the gurney was propped at an angle. 

“Well I be damned, it's her” John said casually, like Jack was supposed to know exactly who she was.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over John “Who?” 

John shot Jack an annoyed You weren’t listening look and said your name. “Only the biggest popstars in the world right now—ring any bells? The whole conversation we just had- came on, old man, weren’t you listening?” 

From where Jack stood, he could see a young woman—you—trembling, your breaths shallow and rapid.

Your hair was disheveled, makeup smudged and streaked. A bomber jacket draped loosely over your shoulders. But beneath it, he caught a flash of purple sparkles—stagewear, most likely.

Beside the two paramedics wheeling you in, three people buzzed around you like bees, talking over one another, yet you looked numb. Not registering or taking anything they were saying. 

The paramedic shouted over all the noise and commotion  "Twenty-five-year-old female, syncopal episode post-performance. Now conscious and alert—”

Somehow, through the rush and chaos, your eyes managed to find Jack’s. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul—and in that moment, yours didn’t lie.

Jack didn’t see a popstar. He saw a human. A woman who looked disassociated, exhausted. Sad. Worn thin.

He’d seen that same look before—in the military, and even here, on the job. That quiet, aching kind of broken. The kind that creeps in when you’ve been running on empty for too long.

Time seemed to slow as you were wheeled past him. He was an older man, a doctor you assumed. You couldn’t look away from his dark eyes. The look in his eyes. No one had ever looked at you like that—not the way he was in that moment. Different from every glance, every stare you’d ever known. And for a moment, you thought he could see you. Really see you. The weight of it made you sit up slightly, still staring back at him.

“I got this one- South Wing, Exam Room 4 —move her!” John barked, falling in step beside the gurney as it sped past, your eye contact with Jack breaking. 

Snapping out what felt like a trance, Jack gets back to work. 

“Call for more security-” Jack snaps one of the nurses as he bolts from central, heading to the ambulance bay. The two security guards on duty were overwhelmed, struggling to control the crowd.

 “Hey! HEY! you can’t be here unless you are sick, injured, dying or are here for someone that is!” He shouts over the chaos “If not get the hell out of my ER and ambulance bay!!!” 

The commotion only grows—cameras flashing, people yelling, shoving for a better view, the frenzy thick with screams and blinding light.

More security comes to help push everyone back out, managing the crowd. Jack exhales, knowing they’ve got it under control. Without another word, he turns on his heel and makes his way back inside, the chaos fading behind him like background noise.

He was going to head to your exam room—something about you lingered. That look in your eyes. He’d seen people in pain before, but this was something different. Quieter. Deeper. And he couldn’t shake it.

He was gonna head over to your exam room, but he was cut off by another nurse.

“Doctor Abbot! Trauma Room 1—stabbing victim”

Jack glanced down the South Wing, hesitating for half a second.

“Copy that,” he said, before turning and rushing toward Trauma Room 1.

___

The exam room was loud and overcrowded. Your manager, publicist, and assistant hovered around you as a nurse tried to take your vitals and ask you basic intake questions. Doctor Shen was trying–unsuccessfully– to get your team to leave so their staff could do their job, but my manager refused. 

“It’s best if you wait outside-” The doctor states. 

Your manager protested “No!” 

“Look, we can’t do our job effectively and efficiently if-” the doctor is cut off by your manager. 

“Well your medical professionals! I’m pretty sure you can handle extra people in a room! Hello, you do surgeries and what not with more than five people in a room!”

Your chest heaved as you sat there, still listening, your breathing shallow and uneven.

“For the sake of the patient—”

“Well, the sake of my client—”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop!” You said sharply. “Mac, give them space-”

“What?” Your  manager blinked, stunned. 

“Let them do their job. I—I feel fine, like I told the paramedics,” You said quickly, forcing a shaky smile. “They just need to check me out. Once they see everything’s okay, I’ll be out of here in no time. And we’ll hit the road”

That was a lie. You didn’t feel fine. 

All these eyes on you—the world—and yet none of them truly saw you.

They couldn’t tell you were faking it. Couldn’t see how much you were silently struggling. How you really felt. Not even the people you saw every day. Part of you felt guilty for even being here—for slowing everything down, for putting yourself and your team behind schedule. Everyone was counting on you. And you were falling apart.

Your manager sighed “Alright.” nodded in agreement, and the rest of your team quietly made their way out of your exam room and directed to the family room. 

You let out a sigh.

“Sorry about them, I didn't mean to cause any trouble.” You apologized to Doctor Shen and the Nurse as they began to check my vitals. 

“Don’t sweat it. It’s fine—comes with the territory in the ER. Your team’s not the first to argue with us, and they’re definitely not the worst.” 

You let out a breath, nodding faintly.

“Still… I hate that it got like that.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. What we should be focusing on is you. Is it okay if we go over a few questions?”

Doctor Shen and the nurse continued their routine—asking questions, checking my vitals. I answered them all, but inside, I felt numb. Like I was moving through it on autopilot.

When they finally left, the silence swallowed everything.

You later there for god knows how long. Curled up on your side, motionless.

Your boots were scattered nearby, forgotten. The tights clung to me like a second skin, and the purple sparkle bodysuit caught the fluorescent lights—still shimmering like it belonged on a stage, not under a hospital ceiling.

But you kept it all in. You didn't let yourself break. Even though you wanted to. Desperately. Ypu wanted to scream. To beg someone to just see me. To understand. To notice what youwere holding together by threads.

You needed somewhere to go. Anywhere but these walls.

You slid off the exam bed, my boots still on the floor, untouched. You didn’t bother putting them back on. You didn’t need to. Out in the ER, the chaos buzzed around me—everyone seemed preoccupied, moving in their own world. But none of that mattered. You didn’t stop.

As you quickly searched for an escape, anything to get away, I finally found the stairs. Floor after floor, my body moved on autopilot, pulled by some quiet instinct—a need for silence. For up.

The rooftop door wasn’t even locked.

And suddenly, there you were —standing beneath the open night sky, the wind pulling at my hair, the city lights stretching out below me like a pulse, faint but steady.

___

Jack peeled off his gloves and paper gown, tossing them into the overstuffed disposal bin without a second glance. His safety glasses came off next, dropped into a tray with a soft clatter.

The stabbing victim had finally been stabilized—barely. They’d coded multiple times on the table, the blood loss severe, the damage extensive. It had been a fight, but for now, they had a pulse.

Jack made his way to the center of the ER, eyes lifting to the patient triage board glowing on the monitors above the central station. He stood there for a moment, just staring—taking it all in, processing the chaos the way only someone used to it could.

John approached quietly, coming to stand beside him. For a moment, neither of them spoke—just two physicians staring up at the ever-shifting list of names, numbers, and needs blinking across the screen.

“Rough night,” John finally said, his voice low, more of a statement than a question.

Jack didn’t look away. “When isn’t it?”

Jack’s eyes stayed on the board, but his mind drifted.

The popstar.

He didn’t even need to say her name—she was already burned into the back of his mind. The look in her eyes when they brought her in.

“How’s she doing?” he asked finally, still staring ahead.

John followed his gaze for a beat, then glanced at the chart in her hand.

“Vitals stabilized. Labs were all over the place when she came in—dehydration, low electrolytes, stress markers through the roof. But mostly?” She paused. “She’s just exhausted. Like, bone-deep. Extreme fatigue. Burnout, plain and simple.”

Jack finally turned to face him.

“Does she say anything?”

John shook her head. “Not much. I didn't need to. You could see it all over her.”

Jack nodded slowly, jaw tightening just slightly.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “You could see it the second she walked in… or was wheeled in.”

He leaned on the edge of the counter, eyes distant now, somewhere far above the triage board. “It wasn’t just physical. It was in her eyes. Like she’d been running on fumes for a long time, and this was the moment her body finally said ‘no more.’”

John studied him for a moment. “You connected with her.”

Jack didn’t answer right away. He just let out a quiet breath through his nose, staring at the board, but not really seeing it anymore.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve seen it before,” he said quietly. “That look. The kind of exhaustion that doesn’t show up in lab results. The kind that runs deeper than what anyone can measure. You can tell when someone’s been running on empty for too long... and their body just finally gives out.”

John says “She still has 14 more shows left. With the pace she’s been going, I honestly don’t know how she’s made it this far.”

A flash of purple caught their attention.

Jack’s eyes snapped to the hallway just in time to see you slip from your room—glittering tights and a purple sparkle jumpsuit, unmistakable even in the dim hospital light. You moved quickly, your bare feet barely making a sound against the cold tile, as though you were trying to be unnoticed, trying to outrun something—or maybe trying to find something.

John caught the movement too, his gaze following you down the hall. “I bet she’s headed to the roof,” he muttered, voice low, tinged with understanding.

Jack’s eyes stayed fixed on you, his jaw tightening.

Jack didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened as he watched you slip through the door at the end of the hall, already heading for the stairs.

John frowned, glancing at Jack. “You think she’s gonna be alright up there?”

Jack didn’t answer immediately. He just stared after you, his mind racing. There was something about the way you moved—like you were running, but didn’t know where you were running to. It made something shift in him.

“People like her… people like us, sometimes,” Jack began, his voice quieter, “they forget they don’t always have to do it alone. That there are moments where it’s okay to stop pretending.”

John didn’t push, but there was a silent understanding between them.

Jack was already moving toward the stairwell, his steps purposeful now. "I’ll check on her."

Jack follows your path, climbing up several flights of stairs to get to the roof

When he finally reached the rooftop, the door creaked open softly, the cool night air greeting him as he stepped out onto the open space. His eyes immediately found you on the other side of the railing, standing still, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself like you were trying to hold together everything that felt like it might break.

You were staring out into the distance, as if the city lights could somehow offer you the answers you were looking for. 

___

“Hey,” he says, his voice low but steady.

You let out yelp, startled by the sudden voice. You hadn’t expected anyone else up here. Your hands instinctively grab the railing behind you, gripping it tightly for support. There was still a sliver of space between you and the edge, but your heart was already racing.

 “Whoa, whoa—careful now,” says quickly, a hoodie draped over his arm. His hands rise in a calming gesture, fanning out as if to steady you.

You glance over your shoulder, blinking in disbelief. It’s him—the man you locked eyes with earlier across the chaos. Tall, calm, dressed in black scrubs that cling to his frame like a shadow. His salt-and-pepper curls are tousled just enough to soften the sharpness of the stubble along his jaw.

“I’m Doctor Abbot,” he continues, stepping closer but keeping his distance. 

“I didn’t come up here to jump—” you say defensively. 

“I’ve heard that one before.”

“No, really—I’m serious. I just—” You hesitated, your eyes drifting away.

It wasn’t a total lie. The thought had crossed your mind once or twice before—on different nights, in different places—This wasn’t that.

You just needed space. A moment to think, to breathe. 

“Hey…” he says softly. “I get it. I head up here to get away from everything down there.”

He nods toward where you’re standing. “That spot? It’s usually mine.”

You glance at him, surprised.

“I’ve seen enough chaos for ten lifetimes,” he adds with a faint smile. “Up here’s the only place where no one’s life is on the line or yelling at me.” His voice carries a dry edge—half joke, half truth.

He steps closer to the railing.

“Do you mind?” he asks, gesturing to the space beside you, silently asking for permission.

You give him a quick glance, and he understands—it’s okay. He ducks under the railing and steps up beside you, settling in quietly.

He lowers himself to the ground, knees drawn to his chest, arms resting loosely on top. His back leans against the railing with a quiet familiarity. After a moment, you follow suit, settling beside him, sitting cross-legged in the hush of the night.

A silence falls between us as we look at the city skyline. 

“I come up here when I need to feel like a person again. Not a doctor. Not the guy who’s supposed to keep it all together. Just… me.”

He lets out a slow breath. “There are nights—some harder than others—where the thought crosses my mind. Of just… stepping off. Letting go.” 

He pauses “But something always stops me. Reminds me why I stay.”

He glances at you, voice quieter now.

“It’s the need to help people. To connect. Even when it’s messy… even when it hurts. It’s what keeps me tethered. It’s what drives me. It’s in my DNA”

Jack hadn’t shared that part of himself because he was looking for comfort. He shared it because he saw something in you—something he couldn’t ignore.

He couldn’t shake the look in your eyes from earlier, when they wheeled you in. That numb, exhausted sadness. The silent plea buried deep in your gaze. A quiet scream for someone—anyone—to really see you.

You were young—early twenties, maybe. A pop star. To the world, you probably seemed untouchable. Perfect. Living the kind of life most people only dream of.

But up close, all Jack saw was someone unraveling. Someone barely holding on. And he’d seen enough to know that pain doesn’t care who you are, how famous you are, or how bright the spotlight is.

And he couldn’t imagine what it must be like.

To be seen by the eyes of everyone… but never really seen.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… this is where I come to stop pretending. So… no pretending. You don’t need to be anything up here, okay? I see you.”

My head snaps up at his words. “W-what?” your eyes widened, caught off guard.

“I said… I see you,” he repeats, voice steady, eyes locked on mine with quiet intensity.

Something in you breaks. Your lips start to tremble, and then the tears come—uncontrollable, unstoppable. You start to sob, the weight of everything finally cracking open.

This man—this stranger—was the first person to really look past the surface. To notice the pain you’d been drowning in. To see you, not the version of you the world demands.

And in that moment, you realize how long you’ve been waiting for someone to do exactly that.

Without a word, he takes the hoodie he’s been holding and gently drapes it over your bare shoulders, shielding you from the cool night air. The fabric is warm, worn, and smells faintly of him—clean soap and something grounding.

You lean into his side, drawn by a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure, then instinct takes over. His arm wraps around you, slow and careful, like he doesn’t want to startle you. His hand begins to rub your arm—slow, steady circles. Not to fix anything. Just to let me know you're not alone.

The sobs come in waves—raw, jagged, leaving your chest aching and my throat tight. I try to stifle them, to keep it quiet, but he doesn’t flinch. He just stays beside me, steady and still, his hand never leaving my arm.

Eventually, it passes. Not completely, but enough for you to breathe again. Your chest still hiccups with the occasional shuttered breath, 

“I—I don’t even know where to start,” You whisper, voice hoarse from crying. “I just… I’m so exhausted.”

He says nothing, but his presence says I’m here. Take your time.

“Everything happened so fast—my career, all of it. It’s like I’m on this train, expecting stops along the way… but it just keeps speeding past every one of them. No breaks. No time to breathe.”

You pause, trying to find the right words through the tightness in my chest.

“And then there’s the pressure. The expectations. People depend on me—my fans, my team, the crew, the label... all of them. I’m supposed to be the one who holds it all together.”

Your voice wavers. “But inside, I’ve been unraveling. It’s like I’m screaming, and no one hears it. Or worse—they hear it and just… don’t care.”

You glance up at him, tears clinging to my lashes, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I have everything I thought I wanted. Everything I dreamed of since I was a little girl. And I still feel empty. So lonely. Like I’m surrounded by people… but completely alone in all of it. My voice cracks on the last words. I look away, ashamed.

Jack doesn’t speak right away.

He just watches you, eyes full of something that feels a lot like understanding. His arm is still around you, steady and warm. And when he finally speaks, his voice is low. Gentle.

“I know that feeling,” he says. “Being surrounded… and still feeling like you’re the only one in the room who’s not okay.”

He exhales slowly, like the weight of my words hit something deep in him too.

“You’re not broken. You’re human. And humans aren’t built to carry everything alone—no matter how strong the world expects us to be.”

He shifts slightly so he can face me more fully, his hand still resting on my arm, grounding me.

“You’re allowed to feel lost. You’re allowed to not have it all together. And just because people look up to you doesn’t mean you owe them everything. You still deserve to be a person. To rest. To be seen.”

He pauses, taking a breath, then adds softly, “Your job is demanding, I get that. But sometimes, you have to do what’s best for you. Put yourself first, even if it means letting others down in the process. You have to take care of yourself. You have to. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it, either. Because if you don’t, you’ll find yourself on a path that’s hard to get off of.”

Thank you, Doctor Abbot.”

“Jack,” he corrects gently. “My name’s Jack.”

“Jack,” you repeat with a small smile, then introduce yourself.

He chuckles. “You know… I’m really aging myself here, but I only found out who you were a couple hours ago.” Trying to lighten the mood. 

You laugh. “Honestly? That’s kind of refreshing.”

“I don’t really keep up with pop culture,” he admits. “Dr. Shen was the one singing your earlier in our shift—what was it? Hands?”

“Oh god…” you groan, burying your face in your hands. That song was definitely suggestive. Of all the songs…

Jack grins. “What was it—‘Oh skin to skin, your touch feels like a sin… I want you, can’t you see, I need your hands all over me’?” He stumbles through the lyrics, trying to recall them.

“No, no, please don’t sing it!” you laugh, half mortified, half amused.

Jack arches a brow, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why not? It’s catchy?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Don’t encourage it.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “It’s stuck in my head now.” 

“Why don’t you sing it?” 

You lift your head, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

Jack leans back against the railing, feigning innocence. “What? Fair’s fair. I butchered it—might as well hear it from the professional.”

You stare at him, mouth open. “You want me to sing that song? Right now?”

He shrugs with a teasing glint in his eye. “You’re the one who wrote it. Own it.”

You groan again, dramatically flopping your head back. “Absolutely not.” 

He arches a brow, clearly amused. “Why because it’s…?”

You shoot him a glare, cheeks burning. “You know why.”

Jack smirks. “Nope. Enlighten me.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands for a second before peeking at him through your fingers. “Because that song is suggestive, okay? And I’m not gonna put on a whole performance for the guy I just met while sitting on the edge of a hospital rooftop.”

He grins, utterly unbothered by your embarrassment. “I mean, you might as well—you’ve got the outfit, so you’re halfway there.”

Jack shrugs, his expression playful. “It’s not every day I get to share a rooftop with a pop star. Kind of a once-in-a-lifetime moment, don’t you think?”

You come back quickly. You cross your arms, giving him a teasing look. “But hey, if you’re lucky, I might just give you a private concert… somewhere a little less public.”

You freeze for a heartbeat, flustered, but the moment passes just as quickly as it came. Jack looks out over the city again, that easy smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

His brows rise, amused, but he doesn’t say anything right away—just lets the silence stretch for a beat too long before offering a slow, teasing smile.

“Oh really?” he says lightly, head tilting. “Didn’t realize I’d stumbled into the VIP experience.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait—I didn’t mean it like that, I—” You groan, running a hand through your hair. “That came out so wrong. I swear I’m not flirting.”

Oh, but you were.

And so was he.

Somehow, without meaning to, the two of you had tangled yourselves into this strange, electric mess. One minute you were unpacking the weight of everything you’d buried inside, the next, you were tossing playful banter back and forth like it was the most natural thing in the world. Somewhere between the quiet confessions and the shared silence, something shifted. Neither of you planned for it, neither of you were sure what to call it—but whatever this was, it felt real. Unexpected, but real.

Jack knew this was unprofessional—wildly unprofessional. He knew better. He should have known better. She was a patient—vulnerable, barely holding herself together just hours ago and years younger. The kind of line he’d never imagined crossing. Every rule in the book told him to step back, to keep the boundary clear and intact.

He told himself it was harmless. Just words, just a moment. He told himself it was just a moment. Just a conversation. But even he knew that was a lie. Jack knew it was more. This wasn’t about flirting. It was about connection—messy, imperfect, unexpected connection—and despite everything telling him to walk away, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Not yet. 

Jack chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state.

“Oh great—now you’ve seen me at my absolute worst and my most embarrassing.”

You groan, pressing your palms to your face. “I swear, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, I know what you meant,” he says with mock seriousness, nodding slowly. “A pop star tries to seduce a jaded ER doctor with a rooftop concert. Very scandalous. Very tabloid-friendly.”

You peek at him through your fingers, trying not to laugh. “Stop.”

You shake your head, laughing despite yourself. “This is humiliating.”

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm with a lopsided grin. “If anything, I should be flattered. First time I’ve ever flirted with a pop star on a rooftop.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” you insist, a little defensive.

“Keep telling yourself that,”

Silence falls between you two again. 

Jack looks at his watch. 1:13 am

“We should probably head back down,” Jack says, standing up and using the railing to steady himself. 

“Right…”He ducks under the bars, making his way back to the safe side.

You follow suit, and he extends his hand toward you, offering support as you step back over to the safer side. You take his hand, steadying yourself as you make the move.

___

None of you speak as you head back down to the main floor of the ER. The silence hangs between you as Jack walks you back to your exam room, his footsteps steady and measured.

Once inside, Jack’s gaze softens, his expression shifting to something more serious. “The tests came back, and it’s clear you’re dealing with extreme fatigue and exhaustion,” he says, his voice calm but insistent. “Your body’s been running on empty for too long, and it’s starting to take its toll.”

He pauses for a moment, letting his words settle before continuing. “I’m recommending that you take some time off, but I also think it’s crucial that you talk to someone—a therapist. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s important to get the support you need to process everything properly.”

Jack looks at you with genuine concern. “We’ll discharge you soon, but I want to make sure your team knows what’s going on. I’ll have a word with them so they understand the need for you to take a step back for a while. You need the time to focus on yourself and heal.”

He pauses again, reaching into his pocket. “I’m also going to write down some resources for you—therapists and support groups, people who can help you through this. I want you to have everything you need to get better, okay?”

“Thank you,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of everything finally starting to settle.

Jack gives you a small nod, his expression softening. “The nurse will come back soon to hook you up to an IV to rehydrate. Rest as much as you can.” He pauses for a moment before adding, 

“I’ll come in a check up you soon”

With a final glance, he turns and leaves, the door clicking softly behind him. The room feels quieter now, but in a way, the silence feels less heavy—like a small sense of relief has finally started to creep in.

___

6:30am Day shift would be coming soon to relieve the night shift. 

You’d stayed in the ER throughout the night. Your team stayed with you too—quiet, worried, but present. When you woke up, you finally opened up to your manager. You told him everything—how you’d been feeling, how long it had been building, how it all finally broke.

He listened. Really listened.

And when you were done, he looked at you—genuinely shaken. “I had no idea you were carrying all that,” he said, his voice low with guilt. “I’m so sorry. You should’ve never felt like you had to keep this to yourself.”

He reassured you that things would change. That they’d meet with the label, reevaluate everything. “If we have to cancel the rest of the tour, so be it,” he said firmly. “You—your well-being—that’s what matters now. Nothing else is more important.”

___

“Alright you’re all set” Doctor Shen says, officially releasing you from the hospital. 

I was still in my stage outfit, my boots in hand, and wearing Jack’s hoodie.

“Thanks, Doctor Shen,” you say, grateful as you start to turn.

“Wait!” he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks. “Before you go, do you think I could get your autograph?”

You pause, surprised, then smile. “Yeah, of course,” you say, walking back over with a light laugh. It’s a small, sweet moment, something you didn’t expect, but somehow felt right—maybe even grounding in its own way. You take a moment to sign, your pen moving across the paper as you look up at him with a warm smile.

“Thanks for everything,” you add, handing it back to him.

You see Jack, approaching. 

“Would you like an autograph too?” I joke 

“Wow I really downgraded there. What happened to my VIP Experience? My private show?”

“You’re still on about that?” 

Jack laughs, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, I had big expectations for this VIP experience. Autographs? Really?” He sighs dramatically, pretending to be disappointed.

“Raincheck on the VIP experience?”

He nods, chuckling softly. “Alright, I’ll hold you to it” 

“So…what are your plans now?” He asks. 

You glance behind your shoulder, catching sight of Mac pacing on the phone, waiting for you by the automatic doors of the ambulance bay. “Uh, headed back home actually. Mac, my manager, is talking to the rest of the team and my label about me canceling the rest of the tour, taking care of my wellbeing,” you explain.

“That’s great to hear,” Jack says, his tone soft, genuine.

Silence falls between you two, an awkward pause that neither of you knows how to fill. You both understand, without saying it, that this is probably the first and last time you’d be seeing each other.

You shift your weight, unsure of what to say next, and Jack clears his throat, glancing down at the ground for a moment before meeting your eyes one last time. “Take care of yourself, alright?” he says, his voice sincere.

You give a small nod, managing a quiet, “You too.”

Jack steps back, his hands in his pockets, his expression still thoughtful. “I meant what I said earlier… about getting the help you need. It’s important.” His words hang in the air between you, as if he’s trying to convey something deeper, something he might not have the chance to say again.

You nod, the weight of the moment settling in. “I will,” you reply softly, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been through start to press against you again. 

You start to walk towards the automatic doors, the hallway stretching ahead, but you stop. You can still feel Jack’s eyes on me, pulling me back. You turn around, your feet moving almost without thinking, and walk back to him.

He looks up at you, confused by your sudden change, but before he can say anything, you drop your boots on the floor and fling your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. You hold him for a moment, feeling the warmth of his embrace, his hands finding your waist and wrapping his arms under his hoodie that you’re wearing.

“I didn’t think anyone could see me,” you murmur, your voice soft and vulnerable. “But somehow, you did. All these eyes on me, yet you’re the one who truly sees.” You hold him tighter. “Thank you… for seeing me. For truly seeing me.”

Before you pull away, you press a soft kiss to his cheek, a gentle gesture that lingers for just a second longer than expected. You let go, picking up your boots, and walk toward the automatic doors.

You take one last glance back, giving him a small wave, and for a fleeting moment, you catch his gaze. But then, you turn away, making your way out, leaving the hospital and the weight of everything behind you. I won't look back again.

___

Doctor Michael Robinavitch, 30 minutes early for his day’s shift, strolled beside Jack with a coffee cup in hand. He noticed the young woman in a shiny outfit, wearing Jack's hoodie. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Jack's cheek before pulling away. Leaving the ER with her boots in hand. She shot Jack a final look, a wave and then disappeared out of the automatic doors.

Jack stood there, still in a bit of a daze. He hadn’t noticed Michael approaching. He could still feel the warmth of her kiss on his cheek, the feeling lingering far longer than it should have.

Michael finally broke the silence, glancing at Jack. “She took your hoodie.”

Jack blinked, coming back to himself, and then offered a small smile. “I know,��� he said, his voice a little distant.

Michael raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, guess that’s one way to make a lasting impression.”

Jack chuckled, a soft, almost wistful sound. He rubbed his cheek absently, still feeling the imprint of her kiss. “Yeah… guess so.”

Michael leaned against the counter, watching his friend with a knowing look. “You’re still thinking about it, huh?”

Jack met his gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Maybe.”

A quiet moment passed between them. Jack knew, deep down, he’d probably never see her again. She was a pop star, and he was just another ER doctor. Their worlds were too different. But still, there was something about that moment—that made him hope he’d be wrong.

“I hope I do,” Jack muttered, almost to himself.

Michael looked at him, the playful edge gone from his voice. “Yeah. I can see that.”

Jack didn’t say anything else, his mind still caught up in the strange, fleeting connection. He wasn’t sure if it would ever turn into anything more, but for now, the memory of her was enough.

(another part??? let me know)

[finelinevogue]

take care of you

summary - Aaron comes home in the middle of the night after you miss his calls, thinking something terrible has happened

word count - 1k

pairing - aaron hotchner x gf!reader

Aaron was only slightly panicking.

You had told him that you would wait up for him. You knew this case was a hard one for him and so you had promised to be there for him when he got home. You never broke a promise.

The fact that you hadn't answered his texts since he had landed back in Virginia was troubling him though.

He had barely said goodbye to his team before getting in his car and racing back home. He needed to see you and he needed to see you now.

As Aaron stopped at a red light he picked his phone back up again, taking note of the last few texts he had sent.

(10:36 PM) Aaron: Landed. Will be home soon

(10:58 PM) Aaron: Are you still up?

(11:05 PM) Aaron: Sweetheart if you're still awake can you just let me know you're okay?

Maybe it was the cynical criminal profiler in him, but you would never willingly go back on your word. It terrified him to know what kind of sick people lived in this world and how easily they could infiltrate an innocent life like yours.

Aaron was now spiralling, thinking the very worst.

He tried telling himself that you could simply be asleep, or perhaps you were in the shower - a thought he did not need to distract himself with currently - but his mind kept on coming back to the worst situations.

Kidnapped. Tortured. Assaulted. The list goes on.

As he pulled up the car onto the front drive, he made quick work of exiting and shutting everything off. Aaron didn't fumble around with his keys as he opened the door - he was too driven by motivation of seeing you to be distracted.

He called your name as he entered the front door.

"Y/N?"

No answer.

Aaron dropped the house and car keys in the porcelain bowl by the front door, not even bothering to take off his shoes or blazer like you normally make him do.

He popped his head into the first sitting room.

No one.

"Sweetheart?"

No answer.

The lights were on in the kitchen but no one was there. The sink was empty but there were freshly washed dishes on the side waiting to be put away.

"Y/N, honey?"

He strode into the lounge last and breathed the deepest sigh of relief when he noticed your body nestled deep into the sofa, blanket over your body, hair so messy and mouth open catching flies.

Aaron ran a stressed hand back over his head, thanking whatever deity he sometimes believed in for watching over you and for everything turning out to be alright.

He waisted no time in rounding the sofa.

He moved your body slightly further back into the sofa so he could perch on it too. Aaron's hand ran over your cheek, physically checking that you were okay.

His movements must have disturbed whatever REM sleep you were getting.

"Aaron?" You mumbled, focusing on whether the man in front of you was real or a figment of your imagination, "What—what’s wrong?"

He chuckled to himself.

You were always so quick to detect when something was the matter with him. You joked that the tell was all in the kind of frown he wore. Aaron didn't believe a word of it, but it was true. The subtlest of differences of his frown could mean a complete change in emotion.

This particular frown told you he was anxious. Worried about something.

Aaron's voice trembled as he spoke, “I’ve been calling you for hours. Texted you a few times too. You didn’t answer and I thought—”

You could tell he was struggling to steady himself, so you sat up from where you had been laying down and moved your body close to his. You dipped your head down to catch his eyes, bringing his focus back to you.

Your hands gently cupped each of his cheeks with tender care. His stubble was already coming through, which was a sign that this had been an exhausting case. If Aaron was even the slightest bit dishevelled you knew it was bad.

“I’m so sorry. I ran out of TV to watch and then I think I fell asleep."

"Didn't take a profiler to know you were asleep, honey. Your mouth was wide open." Aaron joked, trying to lighten the situation. It sort of worked, before he grew more serious again, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss. It was the simplest gesture you could think of to show that you were sorry for putting him through that. You couldn't have imagined how scary that must have been for him, especially in his line of work.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise."

"I know, but I am. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Aaron's hands come around your waist and you take it as your queue to move yours to wrap around his neck. Both of you pulled each other in for a tight hug, needing to feel the warmth of each others embrace.

You held each other for a few moments, neither one of you in a rush to let go.

“After the case we just had… I can’t lose you. I just can't.” He mumbled into your neck.

You squeezed your arms around him a little tighter before letting go slowly. He moved back in tandem with you, but moved his hands so he could cup your cheeks this time.

"I’m here.”

It was as much as you could reassure him for now.

You could see the tension melt away from Aaron. His frown of anxiety turned back to his regular frown, bordering on the smile that you were the only privileged enough person to see.

“You look exhausted." You said.

You smiled sweetly as you stroked back the hair from his forehead and pushed it back in line. The bags under his eyes were tomorrow's problem, but nothing a good night's sleep tonight couldn't fix.

Aaron gave you a tired huff, but didn't argue.

"Let me take care of you tonight, okay?” You asked.

Aaron shook his head, "That's my job to take care of you, not the other way..."

"Shut up. Tonight I’m in charge so deal with it.” You kissed him to prove that you were in charge - if only for tonight.