#i think i always need to be doing something
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Lying To Himself
Content: in which toji is left alone and how he deals with your temporary absence
You have to leave for two weeks, something about a mission in another city. Your boyfriend, Toji, swears it'll be okay, even insists that time will pass by in a blink of an eye.
“‘m not a fucking child, ma. I’ll be fine. Just take care, yeah?”
And so, you peck him on his lips and wave goodbye before you get in the car. Then you’re disappearing in the distance. Toji shrugs, going back in feeling pretty excited to have the house to himself for two weeks — this has never happened before. As he sits on the couch, bottle of beer in one hand and tv remote on the other, he thinks about all the things he can do now.
The toilet seat can stay up, the bins will be full for longer, same goes for the dirty dishes in the sink, and he can watch whatever he wants; no more of those sappy romcoms with predictable plots and cheesy lines.
“’s gonna be fun,” he mutters, a growing grin on his face.
A couple days pass in relative silence, he stays out late, sleeps till noon and eats all the junk you’ve banned from the house. Toji cooks all the steak he wants and leaves the beer bottles to collect dust on the coffee table. And he accepts every invitation from his buddies to go out for drinks, watch basketball at the bar, and plays a couple games too.
He stays up all night, on the evenings he's not getting stupid drunk, playing videogames -- the violent ones you cringe at. During the day, he walks around the place in just his boxers, sometimes not even that, and it's liberating. All a man needs is to be free to be balls naked in their own kitchen.
"You're not missing her at all?" Shiu asks, smoke blowing in his face as they stand in the back alley, leaning against the wall of the bar.
Toji snorts. "What am I? Five years old? I can last a couple weeks without being sappy."
His friend gives him a look, half amused, half disbelieving and a hundred percent smug. None of them miss the death grip he has on his phone, the way his knee is bouncing, and how he isn't even looking at the hot chicks that sway their asses as they walk by.
It’s been great. Really fucking great.
You haven’t been texting much. Sure, you check in here and there, letting him know you’re alright, you’re safe, and making sure he’s watered your plants. However, there are rarely any opportunities for phone calls longer than five minutes, no FaceTime either, and sometimes he goes to sleep without a ‘goodnight’ from you.
It’s fine.
At least, he can sleep at whatever time he wants without you whining about needing cuddles.
More days pass just like that.
And now he’s rarely leaving the house, finding his drunk friends boring, obnoxiously loud. It’s like he's suddenly realised they’re kinda fucking stupid. He starts to get sick of all the steak and fried chicken and takeaway, and instead he’ll text you for the recipe of your lasagne or that smoothie you make him in the mornings that’s always greener than the last.
His feet tap on the floor when you don’t reply straight away. And when his phone lights up, he practically dives for it and grips it tight in his palm, screen threatening to crack when it’s not from you.
“God fucking dammit, Shiu. Don’t fucking talk to me if it’s not important.”
The movies he’s been dying to watch are pretty shit. There’s no depth, no proper pacing, and the dialogue’s cheesy as fuck. Usually, you’d throw popcorn at the screen and complain about all those things, but he finds that he has to mutter them to himself for white noise. Even smirks when he thinks he got it exactly right, guessing what you’d say as if you’re yapping right in his ear.
“She’d totally find that shit stupid. And that blood looks fake as fuck. What was the fucking budget for this shit?”
Most of the phone calls on his history log are from him, more reds than greens. What the fuck have they got you doing over there anyways?
When you do reply to his ‘g’night’ and ‘hey, sleep well?’, he’ll have a go at you for taking so damn long. It’s just fucking ridiculous that you’re clearly sleeping well when he has to hit the gym and tire himself out to even get an hour of shut eye nowadays. Sometimes, he can’t even get any and he just paces the length of the living room waiting for a notification from you to pop up.
“Fucking come on! Y'r phone better be dead or something.”
Toji hates having dinner on the table; the seat opposite him is empty, the placemat bare and he feels a freaky fucking soreness in his chest. When that happens, he never finishes his dinner. Must be a symptom of early heart disease. Gotta talk to the doctors about that.
Instead, he eats on the sofa or in his car.
Eventually, you find time to speak to him for an hour, recounting all the crazy things you’ve seen and had to do. He doesn’t interrupt, he just grunts here and there, not even really listening but he urges you to keep talking when there’s a pause, like you’re unsure if you’re talking too much. And when you try to turn the conversation on him, asking about his day, he gives one word answers and then throws you another question.
“Yeah?” He grunts. “What else? Speak up, ma. Wanna hear ya. D’ya go to that shop? Yeah? Y’ buy anything? Send me a picture.”
He gets two nights of decent sleep after that.
But then…
The guys at work know better than to open their fat mouths around him when he turns up with an extra wrinkle and a ticking in his jaw. Toji is somehow even more sadistic and violent and eager for blood. Even finally accepts their invitation to go out for drinks and drowns himself in the extra strong shit. Assuming he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they don’t question his sour mood.
But what they don’t know is that you texted, just a day before you’re set to come back, to let him know you’re staying another week.
Fucking texted.
Didn’t even get to hear it from your own voice.
He buries himself in more work and stays at the gym for even longer, pushing his body so far, his mind quiets down and he don’t gotta think about the fact that he’s started sleeping on your side of the bed, that the house is losing your scent, and that divot on the couch where you always sat has flattened out.
Everyone knows he’s losing his mind. They can tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he’s started snapping at women who are either flirting or just doing their jobs. And sometimes they even have to block his view of couples practising PDA. That’s the closest to hell they ever want to get around Toji. Suddenly, everyone’s hoping you throw the guy a bone and send a nude or something. Literally anything to rein him back in.
The day comes, though, when you’re finally returning home.
“Y’ sure? Not gonna flake again? Be fucking sure, ma. Alright, get back safe.”
Toji throws all the rubbish out, washes the dishes and dries them, double checks that the toilet seat is down, and he’s followed your recipe for beef stew to the letter — it’s cooking in the oven, and it looks fucking great. Even exfoliated in the shower like you’ve been asking him to, almost took off an entire layer of skin. He doesn’t want to admit he feels pretty fucking fresh.
The door handle rattles.
He sits up. And then stands. Walks over to the front door, arms crossing and then uncrossing.
You’re here.
“Hey, Toji—“
Your greeting is smothered in his chest as he threatens to suffocate you with the hardest bear hug in the whole world. And though he’d never hurt you, if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d have been in big trouble.
“Y’ hungry? Or y’ wanna shower first?”
His hands are all over you, lifting your chin to search your face for any scratches, even squishes your cheeks to be sure, and he’s patting you down for bruises or just to make sure all your limbs are intact. There’s a frown on his lips and it’s pretty darn cute.
“Aw, Toji, baby. Did you miss me?”
“No.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a child, blah blah blah.”
Walking past him to take your shoes off, hang your coat and roll your suitcase to the side, you’re inhaling the air and moaning about the delicious food in the oven. Oh, God. You’ve been craving homemade food for so long now. You might actually die if you don’t eat.
“Come here.” Your eyes dart to him, still standing by the doorway, fists clenching and unclenching. Toji looks furious. You look closer. No, he looks…embarrassed? “Said come here, ma.”
“Why?” You ask, head titling in curiosity and slight suspicion.
He grunts. “What? I gotta spell it out for ya?”
Laughing, you tap your foot on the ground and retort back, “Yeah, you might because you need to have a good reason from keeping me from both a good shower and a warm meal.”
Toji rolls his eyes and stalks over to you, yanking you back to his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and keep you still. It’s much softer than before, but you feel the same sense of passion, something that verges on desperation.
It’s almost like…
No.
It can’t be.
Oh, but when you feel his face bury itself in your neck and you hear that long inhale, followed by a deep groan vibrating through his chest, you’re absolutely sure.
Toji missed you.
An overwhelming feeling of love fills you, so does a sense of victory, and you just hug him back, inhaling deeply too. He smells like home, like reluctant cuddles, pats on the ass, and early morning sex. You thought you’d have the most trouble in the two weeks, which turned into three, but as it turns out, he didn’t fare much better.
Though he’d never admit it with his own mouth, his body betrays him.
Toji doesn’t let you get very far without a hand on you somehow, whether that’s a hand on your thigh as you eat dinner side by side, instead of across from each other, or you sitting on his lap as you watch the movie you want to watch. He even waits on the toilet lid as you shower, though that only lasts a couple minutes before he’s stripping and joining you.
“Y’r not washing y’r hair right,” he tuts.
Getting into bed is even worse because he’s practically lying on top of you the whole night, still sniffing your neck, and with his hands exploring your body. Not really in a sexual way, which is odd for him, but as if he just wants to feel you. He wants to feel your warmth, your softness, and reassure himself you’re home.
Soon, he’s out cold and you mumble a goodnight against his forehead.
He wakes up feeling completely refreshed, like a newborn, stretching and grinning about getting ready with the day, and frowns when you’re still fast asleep. Part of him wants to make sure you’re getting your rest, but that part doesn’t win for very long and the much bigger part is shaking you awake.
“Come on, ma. Fucking bored here. Wake up, yeah? Let’s get some breakfast. Wanna talk to ya.”
And when you do wake up, grumbling at how loud he’s being, he ignores the glares you’re giving and the swatting of his hands. Toji gives you a rare, wide, toothy smile and he says,
“There’s my gorgeous girl. Good morning, baby.”
Yeah, this man totally missed you.
#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk fic#jjk oneshot#jjk drabble#toji x reader#jjk x reader#toji angst#toji fluff#toji drabble#toji fic#toji oneshot
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see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader
pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jeno x (f) cheerleader!reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader
summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that lee jeno would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.
wc ↠ 14.9k
a/n ↠ lowkey i think i subconsciously drew inspo from the fact that finals week made me consider both suicide and homicide. no jungwoo’s were hurt in the making of this fic. merry christmas! as always, feedback is appreciated!
don’t like it, don’t read.
▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky
it was supposed to be like everybody else.
short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that jisung boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through.
you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.
hook, line, and sinker.
far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.
no one told you to expect something different from lee jeno. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.
which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.
as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jeno turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”
jeno raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”
“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jeno, right?”
jeno nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”
“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”
jeno hummed. “are you now?”
you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”
“you think so?” jeno asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him.
“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”
jeno stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”
your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.
jeno spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”
“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”
jeno snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.
your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”
jeno smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”
switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”
“am i?” jeno asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.
“there it is,” jeno sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”
you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.
“i’ll help you,” jeno said after a pause.
you forced a smile. “great, so…”
jeno interjected, “on one condition.”
smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?
“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”
jeno grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.
you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”
“sure, you’re not,” jeno answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”
“that’s not my problem,” you spat.
“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jeno retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”
something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.
but jeno had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”
“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jeno asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”
“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title.
“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jeno told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”
you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”
“right. too busy,” jeno echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”
with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”
jeno arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.
then, you started typing away, all the while jeno watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.
“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you. “pleasure doing business with you.”
with that, you walked away.
jeno shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?
over the next few days or so, you met with jeno to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.
you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.
it was okay. jeno’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.
short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jeno’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.
more like sacrifice.
▸ gilded age
“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.
roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”
jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”
you snickered. “god, what happened now?”
“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently johnny.”
your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.
roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but johnny? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.”
“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”
“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”
roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”
you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”
jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”
your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.
“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”
you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”
roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jeno guy is staring you.”
your head whirled around, spotting jeno in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising.
roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”
you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”
for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jeno for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”
your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.
what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.
“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jeno were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwoo?”
jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwoo isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.
roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”
“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”
“a lot can change in two months.”
“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”
▸ takes two to tango
jeno: come over
you: no
jeno: that wasn’t a request
you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around
jeno: not even for an A?
you: that’s what your grabby hands are for
jeno: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us
you: i’m otw, chill. jesus
the knock of your fist against jeno’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.
jeno threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you.
“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”
jeno shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”
you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”
ignoring your snarky attitude, jeno glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jeno was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.
“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.
busy, my fucking ass, jeno thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”
“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”
“sure, you can,” jeno replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”
“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”
“your attention,” jeno said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”
the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.
without warning, jeno grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jeno would handle you delicately.
but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of.
in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jeno, what the hell?” you exclaimed.
“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jeno said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”
for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jeno’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.
your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.
unsatisfied, jeno bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jeno, that hurts,” you whined.
jeno didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”
you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.
needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”
“stop complaining,” jeno groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”
your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped.
jeno heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”
you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit.
the last thing you expected jeno to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.
and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.
to make matters worse, jeno was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.
maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jeno said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.
even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.
jeno had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased.
you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”
jeno had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”
you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.
“takes two to tango, baby,” jeno called after you, simpering.
you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled lee jeno.
▸ chess, not checkers
deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jeno’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.
jeno didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.
instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.
the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.
and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.
jeno could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jeno for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.
the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.
but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.
and yet, maybe jeno was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.
hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.
jeno winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”
“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.
jeno exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.
seoa recoiled, pulling away. jeno had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”
jeno ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”
a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jaemin marched over to jeno, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”
jeno snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.
jaemin’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”
rolling his eyes, jeno grabbed the back of jaemin’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jeno knew it had when jaemin’s confusion melted into disgust.
“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.
jeno chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”
jaemin couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwoo like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”
that was news to jeno. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from jisung and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwoo. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.
jaemin shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”
now that was funny as hell. jeno had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”
jaemin made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwoo. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”
jeno shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”
jaemin gawked. that didn’t sound like jeno. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”
“oh, dividends,” jeno quipped.
“oh, and in what? pussy?”
“nope.”
jaemin looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”
it didn’t, not immediately, but jeno had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.
jaemin shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”
“chess, not checkers, jaem.” jeno smirked, putting a hand on jaemin’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”
▸ things good guys do
“you’re lucky i was already out,” jeno told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”
“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”
jeno exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jaemin had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”
you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.
jeno’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”
“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.
jeno groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”
you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”
jeno shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”
“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.
“you think that was assault?” jeno asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”
scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”
“good guys have self-control,” jeno replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”
you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”
“a blowjob.”
“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.
jeno quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”
you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?
jeno grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”
“that’s not the same!” you whined.
“of course, it’s not,” jeno said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”
you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”
maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jeno stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”
you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.
it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jeno couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”
you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.
jeno walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.
normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt.
“good girl,” jeno praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”
you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jeno, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.
jeno hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”
your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.
not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.
at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”
your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.
that amused jeno to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.
he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.
it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jeno instructed.
widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.
jeno was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.”
your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jeno hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jeno’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.
jeno, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.
there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.
“lick,” jeno said, chest undulating. “up and down.”
with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jeno’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking.
jeno’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”
you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.
if jeno could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”
you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.
it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.
compared to when you first started, jeno was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.
“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jeno said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.
at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jeno groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.
you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.
at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.
jeno’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.
“open up,” jeno said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.
not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.
when you tried to pull away, jeno grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.
tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jeno scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”
chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jeno loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.
jeno held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jeno said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”
he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.
there was a fleeting second of relief when jeno unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.
though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible.
you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.
“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jeno taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.
it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own.
then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing.
with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed.
jeno groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”
even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.
it got to a point where jeno couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”
like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.
irritated, jeno pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”
you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.
jeno laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”
he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.
▸ hard feelings
something about today was different than usual.
when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.
but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.
it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.
you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about johnny’s clap rumor.
long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.
and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?
but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.
fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.
jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.
roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.
they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”
jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”
your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”
jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”
“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except…except jeno. you tensed with anger.
roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jeno reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.
your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jeno didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.
“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”
jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”
then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.
you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see.
you: you and i need to talk. right now.
jeno: about what?
you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!
jeno: maybe u should have swallowed
you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone
jeno: [one attachment]
jeno: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it
you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.
adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.
you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you
jeno: this is bigger than just you and me
jeno: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out
and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.
one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.
if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.
you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.
no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.
you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.
“i’ve been texting you,” jeno said, sounding miffed.
you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”
“aw, poor thing,” jeno crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”
you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.
stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open.
“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”
it was a wonder you managed to make it to jeno’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.
on the other hand, jeno seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did.
you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”
jeno chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”
your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?
“i’m sad,” jeno said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”
you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”
jeno nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”
you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”
“so?” jeno asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”
you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jeno, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”
“take everything off,” jeno repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”
defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jeno shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.
what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.
when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.
you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.
after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.
“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”
you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”
“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”
“i miss you,” you confessed.
“a lie don’t care who tell it.”
“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”
“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”
your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”
there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”
you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jeno without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”
your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that.
taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”
your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”
in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”
“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”
“ma,” you groaned with a wince.
she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”
you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jeno really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.
because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.
and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated lee jeno.
▸ cheerleader? breed her!
standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.
you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jeno and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.
there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jeno’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.
you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.
jeno came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”
you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”
jeno chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”
you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.
jeno’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”
you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.
“that’s not nearly enough,” jeno insisted, squeezing your ass.
god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.
“you know what i want?” jeno asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”
your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jeno had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic.
grabbing your arm, jeno started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”
you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jeno, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.
jeno scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.
panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to.
then, you locked eyes with jungwoo. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jeno was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwoo saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.
your shoulders slumped in defeat.
jeno started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.
just your luck, the bathroom jeno hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jeno, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”
jeno didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”
you swallowed, not saying a word.
the silence was very loud, very telling. jeno arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”
your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.
jeno chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”
you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”
jeno shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”
it went without saying that jeno always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed.
hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jeno was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”
jeno could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”
it wasn’t lost on you that jeno obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jeno. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”
“what a privileged response,” jeno hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jeno, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.
two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jeno. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”
you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”
“me and you, we’re not the same,” jeno remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”
“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”
jeno laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.
“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jeno said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”
your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.
“take my dick out,” jeno said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”
you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jeno had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.
getting a hold of your throat, jeno roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”
you gawked, shaking your head.
his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”
with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jeno released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.
he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.
jeno had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.
you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.
the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.
“i’m so nice to you,” jeno said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”
your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.
but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.
sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.
jeno grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”
your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.
jeno watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”
no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul.
your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jeno, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.
jeno smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”
“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”
jeno snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”
those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback.
hips beginning to move faster, jeno continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”
“jeno, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half.
but jeno didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”
there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.
jeno stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”
you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.
jeno threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”
your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback.
“jeno, don’t…”
before you could even finish your statement, jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”
you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jeno’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.
with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jeno emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.
you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point.
to your surprise, jeno started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.
you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.
then, jeno stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jeno, stop! it’s sensitive.”
“that’s the point, dummy,” jeno replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.
your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered.
jeno smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”
you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.
that made jeno chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”
you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.
“please, what?” jeno asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”
god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.
and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.
and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.
“shit,” jeno hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.
your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jeno thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.
after a moment or two, jeno pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”
you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth.
jeno raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”
your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled.
“you’re learning,” jeno commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”
“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.
keeping your dress bunched up, jeno grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”
you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight.
“did you think i was kidding?” jeno asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”
#lee jeno smut#jeno smut#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct#nct x reader#jeno scenarios#nct jeno#jeno x reader#jeno x you#jeno imagines#nct fanfic#nct dream x reader#revehae fics
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there was something so attractive about the raw, unfiltered side of chris that came out when he gamed. the way his jaw clenched whenever the game got intense, the subtle furrow of his brows, and the way he muttered under his breath when things didn’t go his way. it had your thighs clenching—a wet patch forming in your panties.
you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on him for too long, the ache to just—do something—growing stronger by the second. before you could second-guess yourself, you slid off his bed and padded silently toward his desk.
he didn’t notice you at first, headphones on and completely lost in his game. that suited you just fine. without a word, you knelt down and eased yourself under his desk.
“ma?” chris’ voice broke through as he lifted one side of his headphones, glancing down to find you settling between his legs. his brows lifted in surprise, but there was a flicker of intrigue in his eyes. “what do you think you’re doing?”
“jus’ keep playing,” you say, your voice breathless—hands sliding lightly over his knees, and creeping up his thighs slowly. his breath hitched, his legs stiffening under your palms. “you’re unbelievable,” he muttered, his lips curving into a faint smirk.
“maybe,” you murmured, your fingers brushing the waistband of his sweatpants. “but you’ve been sitting here too long. let me take care of you—please.” you say, your voice tampering off into a small whimper.
chris’ head tilted back against the chair, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “yeah? wanna take care of me?” he asked. and you nod, your fingers dipping below the waistband of his sweats and beginning to tug them down. he lifts his hips, making it easier for you.
his cock sprung from his boxers, already red and leaking. the sight made you gasp, thighs clenching together once more. “look at you,” he murmured. “you really can’t help yourself, huh? so needy for me, baby.”
his hand came down to cup your face—thumb brushing softly over your cheek. the touch sent a thrill through you, leaning into his hand as your head tipped up. “i just want to make you feel good.” you whisper, his dark orbs staring into you. his thumb grazing the corner of your lips. his voice roughening slightly. “always so eager to please.”
a soft hum escaped you as you let your lips brush against his thumb, suddenly taking the digit into your warm mouth and swirling your tongue. his eyes dilated—chest rising and falling quickly as he watched you, his hand still cradling your face.
“fuck—such a good girl for me,” he praised. “go ahead,” he murmured, slipping his finger from your mouth. that was all you needed, your head tipping back down to his cock. your mouth watered, licking your lips before your hand reached out to grasp the base. a groan slipped past his lips as your tongue flicked out, licking his tip before taking him completely in your mouth.
you moaned around him, slowly bobbing your head up and down as you hollowed your cheeks. you were already taking him so deep—the sight of you on your knees, eyes peering up at him through your lashes, drove him crazy. one of his hands slipped to the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure to hold you there if he wanted.
chris leaned back slightly in his chair. “that’s it, angel,” he whispered. “takin’ me sooo good—ngh—like feeling me deep in here?” he says, the hand on your neck coming around to squeeze the front where his cock was bulging. his words made you wine around his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat.
you picked up your pace then, hand pumping what couldn’t fit. chris’ head tipped back, moaning as his hips bucked—the action making you choke. “fuck ma—holy shiiit.” your eyes blinked as tears started to form, quickly spilling down your face as you continued to look up at him. the sight of his face just made you want to pleasure him more.
your other hand reached down to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand. a grunt resonated in his chest, feeling him twitch in your mouth. the pressure of your throat and the hand he held there felt so good. he tipped his head back forward, looking back down at you once more. hand coming out again to caress your cheek as he smirks down at you. “doing so—so good ma,” he moans. “fuck m’gonna cum.”
your mouth suddenly pulled off him, hand pumping quickly. “want—in my mouth, please.” you begged before returning his cock into your mouth.
“yeah? fuck—m’gonna fill your pretty mouth up baby.” he says, keeping his hand on your face as the other leaves your neck to sneak into your hair, helping you bob your head up and down. the sounds were so lewd—so wet.
his moans grew louder, hips bucking more frequently as he chased his high. “oh—fuuuck.” his balls drew tight as he spilled down your throat—hot and sticky. you moaned at the taste, happily swallowing everything he gave you.
after a moment, you pulled back, giving his cock a quick kiss before looking up at him fully and opening your mouth to show him. his hooded eyes watched you, heat coursing through his veins at your action.
the hand in your hair released you, but he still caressed your face, thumb wiping away the remaining tears.
“did so good ma—guess i gotta return the favor, hm?” he says, shuffling his pants back up before he grabbed you out from under his desk and lead you to his bed. his games being completely forgotten.
#ᯓ★ strnilolover#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo blurb#christopher sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo blurb#christopher sturniolo smut#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#christopher owen sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut#smut writing#chris smut#smut#gabs chris!blurbs#christopher sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo imagine
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Saving Grace || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: When Rafe Cameron’s infamous temper threatens to derail the entire office, his wife is called in as the only person who can bring him back to earth.
Warnings: none!
Word count: 2,051
MASTERLIST
Rafe Cameron could be described in many ways: arrogant, sharp-tongued, perpetually stone-faced, and infamously hot-headed. His temper was a ticking time bomb, always moments away from detonation. It didn’t take much to set him off—a missed detail, an oversight, or even the wrong tone of voice—and once his mood soured, it had a ripple effect on everyone within his orbit.
If Rafe was in a foul mood, the entire office braced itself for the storm, knowing they’d bear the brunt of his frustration. Productivity stalled, morale plummeted, and an oppressive tension hung heavy in the air. No one dared to ask if he was okay or offer to fix the issue—it was simply understood that his temper had to run its course.
But there was one person who had mastered the art of disarming the bomb: his assistant, Rachael. If anyone in the office had something to say about Rachael, it was that she knew Rafe Cameron far too well. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods and an arsenal of strategies for defusing them. Most importantly, she understood the one surefire way to calm Rafe down: his wife.
The woman who he worshipped the ground she walked on, mother to his children, and the only person Rafe Cameron seemed to hold above all else. No matter how irritable or unapproachable he became, the mere mention of her name was enough to shift the atmosphere. So when Rachael watched one of her coworkers stumble out of Rafe’s office, barely holding back tears, she knew it was time to intervene.
Her sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous glances exchanged between staff members who were all too aware of the storm brewing behind Rafe’s closed door. Without missing a beat, Rachael grabbed her phone, dialling a number she had memorised long ago. As the call connected, her tone softened—a stark contrast to the sharp efficiency she displayed in the office.
“Hi, Mrs. Cameron,” she began, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and familiarity. “I hate to bother you, but it’s one of those days. If you’re free, I think a quick word with Rafe might do the trick.” She paused, listening intently before smiling to herself. Rachael didn’t need to explain much; Mrs. Cameron always seemed to know exactly how to handle her husband.
And while the office might dread Rafe’s infamous outbursts, Rachael found comfort in knowing there was someone who could bring the man back down to earth. She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard your calm, reassuring voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there,” you said, your tone steady but with a hint of warmth that was reserved for conversations about your husband.
Without hesitation, you grabbed your car keys, slipping on a pair of heels as you prepared to leave. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called in to play peacemaker, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Rafe’s temper was legendary, but you knew how to navigate it better than anyone else. You’d seen him at his worst, the raw edges of his frustration and anger, but you also knew the softer side of him—the part that melted when you walked into a room, the man who looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
As you slid into the driver’s seat, your thoughts briefly flickered to your children, safely at home with the nanny. You didn’t want to leave them, but you also understood that Rafe needed you. He might not admit it outright, especially not in front of his staff, but the subtle ways he sought you out after a rough day spoke volumes.
~
As you walked toward your husband’s office, the energy in the space shifted noticeably. Heads turned, relief washing over faces that had been tense just moments before. Hushed whispers followed in your wake, employees murmuring their gratitude for the one person who could tame the storm that was Rafe Cameron. Even without uttering a word, your presence commanded respect—graceful yet undeniably authoritative.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” Rachael said as she stood from her desk, her tone filled with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. “He’s in his office, and he’s miserable in there.” You glanced through the glass wall into Rafe’s office. Rachael hadn’t exaggerated—his frustration was palpable. The furrow of his brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the restless movements of his hands screamed of a man on the verge of losing his patience entirely.
You offered Rachael a small, reassuring smile before making your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You didn’t bother knocking—Rafe hated formalities when it came to you. The heavy sigh he let out at the sound of the door opening was immediate. His eyes remained locked on the papers scattered across his desk, his tone sharp and cold.
“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside. “Does that include me?” you asked, your voice sweet and smooth, cutting through the tension. Rafe’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. Instantly, his rigid posture softened, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.
The frustration etched into his features melted away, replaced by a look that could only be described as unguarded affection. Just your presence had the power to undo him. Without a word, Rafe reached behind his desk and flicked a switch, causing the glass walls of his office to turn frosted, granting the two of you privacy. His voice softened, tinged with genuine curiosity and concern.
“What are you doing here, baby?" You walked around his desk, your movements fluid and deliberate, and Rafe turned in his chair to face you fully. Standing in front of him, you saw the shift in his expression—the hard edges of his day crumbling as he looked up at you. And there it was, the look that never failed to steal your breath.
No matter how difficult or frustrating his day had been, Rafe always looked at you like you were his entire world, as though you hung the moon and stars just for him. In his eyes, there was nothing but pure, unfiltered love—a stark contrast to the icy exterior he showed everyone else. You leaned down, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
His shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar touch, the tension from his day dissolving. “You’re scaring your employees,” you teased softly, your words accompanied by a light chuckle as you straightened up. Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his tone laced with both irritation and amusement.
“They’re terrified,” you corrected, folding your arms and raising a brow at him. “I saw one of them practically in tears.” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little pressure.” You gave him a knowing look, stepping closer and resting your hands on the armrests of his chair, effectively boxing him in. “Rafe, you can be a little… intense,” you said gently, your eyes locking with his. “And by ‘a little,’ I mean a lot.”
His lips quirked into a smirk, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “That’s because I know the real you,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “The one who spoils me, reads bedtime stories to the kids, and eats all the burnt pancakes I make without complaining.”
He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “You know I love those burnt pancakes,” he murmured, tugging you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. “Hmm,” you hummed playfully, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his blazer. “Maybe I should remind your staff that under all that brooding, you’re just a big softie.”
“Don’t you dare,” he warned, though his smirk betrayed the emptiness of his threat. You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then maybe try to be a little nicer? For me?” He sighed, feigning reluctance, but the way his hands tightened on your waist betrayed his surrender. “Fine,” he said, his tone mockingly begrudging. “But only because you asked so nicely.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said with a satisfied smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Now, why don’t you take a break? Let me help you relax before you scare anyone else.” Rafe’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, the love in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “You really are my saving grace,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#fanfiction#obx fanfiction#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey fic#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey imagine#outerbanks x you#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks fanfiction#outerbanks x reader
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surprise!
pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader
genre: smut, roommates to lovers
wc: 2.7k
warnings: humping, dirty talk, oral (f), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: aight listen - i needed some time to process his new look and now i'm wet for him. he has a tongue piercing in this fic bcs ever since i gave one to rockstar!hyunjin i can't stop thinking about it (and tattoos). he is the moment😩💅🏻❤️
~ masterlist
Fucking hell.
Your hot roommate somehow managed to become hotter than he already was even after he gave you a good scare.
You were used to seeing his fluffy hair flying around everywhere, him tying it up while he was painting or cooking, putting it behind his ear constantly as a habit.
But the hair you were so fond of (even though you found strands of it everywhere in your apartment) was completely gone.
Without any prior announcement too.
You were just finishing up with dinner when he came home, strolling in casually and greeting you as he opened the fridge to grab a cold drink.
You greeted back, not even looking up as you were concentrating on cutting up some veggies.
You made small talk as always, you were kinda close and didn't mind sharing your day to each other over a meal.
Something was weird, you noticed out of the corner of your eye and when you lifted your head to look up, you almost cut your finger off.
"What the fuck?!" you practically screamed and Hyunjin laughed before smirking at you.
"Surprise?"
"Damn right it is." you stared at him in disbelief.
It was different. His long hair was comforting to you as sometimes he even let you braid it or play with it when you hung out and seeing him now was a shock.
His facial features stood out more and you couldn't help but admire his jawline, his nose, his eyebrows, heck even his ears were pretty.
It was unfair that he looked so good.
"I think our dinner's burning." he smirked knowingly and you shrieked, quickly turning the stove off and moving the pot aside.
Even as you sat down to eat, your eyes were glued to him.
"I'm guessing you don't hate it since you keep looking at me." he said, smirking again.
"Hate it? Far from that. I think you look h- well... um." you bit your tongue.
You never made a move on him even though you wanted to so many times, he drove you crazy every day, testing your mental strength as he strolled around shirtless, sometimes only with a towel wrapped around his middle, still wet from his shower. And you had a feeling he knew what he was doing, he was playing with you and he knew you were gonna eat out of his hand no matter what he does.
If you say it now, it'll be there on the table, laid out for him to make the next move.
You were sure the sly bastard was teasing you constantly.
"I look what? Say it." he dared you.
You put your fork down, wiping your mouth as you looked at him again.
"Hot. I think you look hot." you said, your heart beating out of your chest.
"Damn, did I have to shave my head for you to finally admit that?" he smirked and yes you were furious.
But you were also turned on at the way he was eye-fucking you and licking his plump lips, making sure to put his pretty tongue piercing on display.
Fuck, it was even hotter now.
"Shut up." you threw a napkin at him and he laughed at your feeble attempt to chase him away.
"Make me." he bit on his lip.
You didn't expect that.
"Make you?" your thighs pressed together, your stomach filling up with butterflies as you felt arousal gather on your pussy.
"Yeah, shut me up. Be creative with it." he smirked.
You observed him shortly as you felt annoyance and arousal rise inside you, wilding like the sea that was constantly spilling between your legs.
You stood up, pushing your chair back, almost making it fall down before you rounded the table to his side.
Hyunjin had a shit-eating grin on his face, manspreading in the chair as he looked up at you as if he was inviting you to sit in his lap.
You grabbed his chin making his eyes flutter instantly as you leaned in closer to his face.
God, he was beautiful.
"What are you waiting for, doll?" he smirked.
God, he angered you so badly.
So you crashed your lips on his, finally tasting him, feeling his soft lips move against yours.
Your hand slid on his face, his soft skin under your fingertips as you made your way to his hair.
Hyunjin was smirking into the kiss as you swiped your tongue over his lips, pushing it into his mouth to play with him, your hand finally touching his hair and it was surprisingly soft as you caressed him.
Hyunjin's large hands grabbed at you, pulling you into his lap as you whimpered into his mouth.
The kiss was sloppy, full of slurping sounds and teeth clanking occasionally but neither of you cared.
"Creative enough?" you asked when you parted for air, his lips were swollen and glistening with spit and you were sure yours were the mirror image.
"I think you can do better." he noted, the annoying smirk playing on his lips as always.
You held his face as you crashed your lips on his once more, kissing him harder and Hyunjin gripped at your hips before his hands slid down to your ass.
You bit on his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and making him groan. His hand lifted up as he smacked your ass and you accidentally grinded against his growing bulge.
You froze for a moment and he looked at you hazily, his cheeks rosy, and a lazy smile, he looked even more edible than moments ago.
"Backing out?" he asked.
"N-no." you whined as he gripped your ass and pressed you into him, slightly moving against your core.
"Want me to take the lead, doll?" he asked with a smirk and you really didn't want to give him the satisfaction but he was already on it, leaning in as he started kissing your neck.
You shivered as he massaged your ass, slowly moving his clothed length against you and making your panties even more soaked.
Your hands were on his head and the back of his neck, touching him and getting used to the feel of it.
Hyunjin bit into your flesh, sucking on it and you wanted so badly to pull on his hair but you couldn't so you gripped the back of his neck, making him whine as his hands traveled under your shirt.
You were glad you didn't wear your bra as Hyunjin went straight for your tits, grabbing at them and playing with your nipples as he kept leaving marks on your neck.
You literally thought in that moment that he was going to make you cum in your panties, you felt so pathetic for letting him win so fast but he stopped all his movement, making you whine.
"Shh, doll." Hyunjin shushed you, grabbing your shirt and sliding it off, tossing it somewhere aside.
He looked at your tits as if he was in a trance but before you let him come near them, you tugged on his shirt so he took it off.
He had a few tattoos here and there and you wanted to press your lips to every single one, trace them with your tongue as if you were drawing on him.
Hyunjin didn't notice your mesmerized face because he was focused on your breasts, he finally leaned in and wrapped his lips around your nipple, moaning as he started sucking.
You whimpered, throwing your head back as you ran your fingers on the back of his neck.
Hyunjin's tongue lapped at your nipple, his hand sliding down into your panties.
You jolted a little, you didn't think he was this impatient but his fingers already found your puffy clit as he pressed into it and started moving them in circles.
You gripped his head, holding him down as he sucked on your breast harshly, making him whine around you as he sped up with his fingers.
"So wet for me, you're dripping." he ran his fingertips on your folds, gathering your wetness before he pulled them out of your panties and brought them to your mouth.
"Taste yourself." he smirked and you complied, opening your mouth as you moved against him, needing to feel anything as you sucked on his fingers.
He kept smirking as his other hand gripped your breasts, playing with them and you were just about to explode.
You gripped his wrist and pulled his hand away.
"I need more." you whimpered and he chuckled.
"Mm. What would that be?" he wrapped his arms around you, leaning in to kiss your collarbone and your breasts.
"Hyunjin, stop teasing me or so help me god-"
"What are you gonna do doll?" he smirked up at you, pressing your chest against his skin.
He was so warm and you wanted to drown in him.
You were about to get so annoyed with his teasing as you stood up, but Hyunjin followed you quickly, one arm wrapped around you as he moved the plates aside, making room to sit you up on the table.
You gasped in shock, looking back at the half finished dinner Hyunjin just pushed on the side, his fingers hooking into your pants.
"Here? Hyunjin, we eat here." you tried to scold him but he giggled.
"Oh, I'm gonna eat." he smirked, pulling your pants down and throwing them aside as you whimpered.
"Hyun!" your voice came out high pitched as he ran his fingers over the wet patch on your panties.
"All this for me?" he stared at you and you shivered under his gaze.
"Y-yeah." you swallowed, shivering in anticipation.
Hyunjin spread your legs before kneeling down, making you grip the table when his breath hit your core.
He leaned in, his lips attaching to your clothed clit as he licked at it, making the fabric even more wet before he started sucking on it.
"H-Hyun!" you moaned, your hand flying to his head to push him into you.
He smirked against you, tongue lapping over your folds as his nose pressed into your clit.
"P-please." you moaned, already grinding against his perfect face.
"Ah fuck it, I'm still hungry." he teased before pushing your panties aside, his tongue gathering your sweet juices as he moaned into you.
Your legs trembled as he started to suck on your clit, moaning constantly as if he was the one getting head, not you.
You kept running your hands on his soft hair, pushing him closer to you as he ate you out teasingly slowly, his tongue lapping at your insides, drinking from you, his piercing driving you crazy.
You needed more, faster, deeper and your legs started closing around his head but Hyunjin gripped your thighs, forcing you open as he kept eating you out like you were the last meal he was ever going to have.
You grinded against his face, his nose kept pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his tongue and soon your legs were shaking.
You kept him pressed against you and he moaned into your pussy, making out with your lower lips and you were losing your mind.
It didn't take much longer for you to explode on his face and tongue and Hyunjin eagerly licked it all up.
"Fuck." you groaned as he lifted up, licking around his swollen lips.
He looked at you as if he still wasn't satiated, as if he was going to devour you whole and at that moment you wanted him to.
"I could do that for hours." he whined, hand gripping at his obvious bulge.
"Why didn't you?" you smirked, still breathless.
"I wanna fuck your little pussy until it's shaped like my cock." he said as he pulled his length out, making you whimper and gasp at his words.
He gave himself a few tugs and you stared at his pretty cock, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
He gripped your panties and pulled them off before standing closer to you.
"H-Hyunjin!" you moaned when he pressed his tip on your folds.
"Gonna be a good doll and take it?" he smirked and you nodded.
He chuckled before pushing in, making you moan loudly as your nails dug into the table beneath you.
It wasn't the most comfortable thing to lay on but the feeling of Hyunjin stretching you with his cock and filling you up so perfectly made your mind cloudy.
He leaned closer to you and you gripped at his arms immediately as he held your hips, thrusting into you semi-fast.
"F-fuck..." you moaned, already on edge and it was embarrassing.
"How many times have you fantasized about me, hm babygirl?" Hyunjin smirked as he pressed himself closer to you, his cock massaging your cervix as his happy trail rubbed against your skin.
You opened your lips to speak as he held your hip, his other hand lifting up to put your hair behind your ear.
Before you could answer, your pussy clenched around him and you came all over his cock, tears flooding your eyes instantly.
"You came already?" he laughed mockingly as you dug your nails in his shoulders.
"I- I-" you were about to actually cry. This has never happened to you.
"It's okay doll. I know you're desperate for my cock. I think that makes you even cuter." he smirked as he started fucking you harder, the table with all the plates and glasses clattering.
"Ah!" you moaned repeatedly, not able to form any coherent words or sentences as he fucked you dumb on your kitchen table.
You wrapped your arms and legs around him as Hyunjin continued pounding into you, leaning closer again so he could grunt in your ear as you touched his soft short hair again, at this point the new look was making you feel even more aroused.
"I knew this pussy was greedy for my cock. Look how she's sucking me in." he looked down at where his length disappeared inside you so you followed his eyes, whimpering when you got the visual of his cock covered in your white cream fucking in and out of you.
"Shit!" you clenched around him again as he looked up at you.
"You gonna cum for me again?" he smirked, fucking you with even more force, the plates were dangerously close to the edge of the table.
"Y-yes!" you whimpered, completely dizzy and out of your mind as you squirted around his cock, your pussy gripping him so tightly that Hyunjin couldn't help it as he twitched inside you.
You scratched at his back as he dug his nails into your hips, filling you up with spurts of hot cum.
A crash startled you as he lazily fucked into you, trying to hold onto his high as long as possible and both of you looked up, seeing that one of the plates had fallen on the floor, smashing into pieces.
"Oh." Hyunjin groaned as he caged your head with his arms before he leaned down to kiss you, pressing his wet body against yours.
Both of you were sticky and wet and you couldn't believe you just let your hot roommate fuck you on the table in your kitchen.
He pulled out and chuckled at the mess.
"Wow you did a number on my back." Hyunjin noticed his reflection in the window, his back red with scratches.
"That's cause you didn't have any hair I could pull on." you smirked as you sat up.
"The way you held onto me I wouldn't have any left." he smirked back and you slapped his arm, giggling at him.
"I take it your really like my new hair." he leaned his hands on the table, caging you in again.
"I really like you." you said, your face heating up.
"I know you do, doll. Why do you think I've been teasing you? I was just waiting for you to finally react." he winked and you wanted to smack him but he caught your hand and held it.
"I really like you too." he said before kissing you.
"We should clean up the mess." you said as you leaned back.
"We should. After round two. Or more. Who knows." Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows before lifting you up in his arms and making you squeal as he carried you towards your bedroom.
You were in for a long night.
taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house
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Casually thinking about older!Bakugou . As usual, all characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Older!Bakugou who is still in his early 30s, being pestered by his mother to at least get a girlfriend (and eventually settle down). She is afraid she'll never be able to meet her grandkids if this continues.
Older!Bakugou who has attended weddings of his friends, co-workers and even few of the people he had rescued. Although, had no intention of settling down anytime soon, wanting to focus on hero work because it gave him a drive, something to look forward too.
Older!Bakugou who was never really interested in any women that threw themselves at him, always keeping to himself, mellowed out with age. His friends no longer setting him up on blind dates because it was all in vain.
Older!Bakugou who hires a new support tech, because he was impressed by the work. Who meets the newbie in the hallway of the building, screaming at a rookie prohero.
"this is my resume", you shoved an open file into the rookie's face,"on page 12 it list all the things I was hired for", you pause pulling the folder, skimming through the pages to open page 12, he assumes. "Here, now read carefully, does it say 'write reports for rookies because they are apparently incapable of writing it' huh?", you slam the folder shut on the table. " Don't ever expect to do your work, rookie."
You turned around and left the hallway, not really noticing that you almost ran into Pro-hero: Dynamight.
Older!Bakugou who observes you working around the lab, fierce support tech that minds her business and prefers talking to her projects over actual people. Diligent with her work, getting her job done.
Older!Bakugou who enters the lab one day because his gauntlet need to repaired.
"they are too chunky." You don't really have a filter, already working on dismantling the whole thing, not sparing Bakugou a glance.
"You should focus on your work, kid." He was already staring at you.
"What do you think I am doing, Dynamight? This chunk isn't going to fix itself."
He is glad that your words remains same, irrespective of who you are talking to. Always stating the obvious.
"watch it, kid." He walked out of the lab.
Older!Bakugou who is surprised when the new tech remodels his gauntlets but also repairs the old ones, showing him the perks of new ones while still repairing the old ones just in case he doesn't like the new ones.
Older!Bakugou who, at 32, finds himself horrified by the idea that he might be interested, in someone, someone who is younger than him. You are 24, barely am adult in his eyes. You are smart, snarky and considerate.
You explain things to people, help around the lab, yet you are still sharp can take a joke, can make a joke.
Older!Bakugou that is nervous, prospect of asking out a girl making him sweat. He stands at the entrance of your lab, clear door doing nothing to hide his hulking frame, you are still working on something, hunched over a table with a chunky metal in hand.
"you know, I can see you, right?"
He lets out a breath, a small smile breaking onto his face, he moves into the lab. You notice he is wearing casual clothes, sweatpants and a t-shirt, carrying take-out boxes in his hand.
"I was getting dinner, thought I'd get you some too." He is already setting up on the 'not work table' in the room, already aware of what would happen if he put food on your 'work table'.
"What did you do, boss?" You voiced suspiciously, already moving to wash your hands.
"Can't even get people dinner in this economy"
"People", faux disbelief evident in your voice,"I wouldn't call me people, boss" you pulled the chair out and sat in front of him.
"Why not, tech?" He teased, handing you pair of chopsticks.
You look at him with mischief in your eyes, you lean over and play your hand around you mouth, almost as if sharing a secret,"Because you don't practice asking 'people' out, Suki."
His eyes widened,"You heard that? I thought the glass door was fucking sound proof." He let out a sigh, hours of practising and he doesn't even get a chance to say it.
"They are soundproof. From the inside tho." You looked over to him, before placing your hand over his," And I'll go on that date, also we should totally check the sound proofing of the lab tonight."
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
#i am not gonna like i do not like this fic#maybe ill revisit this idea some other day#bnha#bnha x reader#mha#mha x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha fluff#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha smut#mha angst#bakugou smut#bakugou katsuki x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou x you#katsuki x reader
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Something special |||
Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader
Prologue - > Part 1 - > Part 2 - > Part 3
How could he have known that you were with your friends?
You sat there for a while, in the cold car with the sudden realization that that man you had quite literally just met knew something he shouldn't have. Were you overthinking it? Were you just to tired to really comprehend the actual situation, your mind instantly going to something more darker and blaming an innocent man?
Maybe you were paranoid, just maybe. He was a vigilante for goodness sakes. He helps people, saves them. He most likely just assumed that you were out and about, hanging out with buds. There wasn't any need to jump to such big conclusions- to make an innocent man the target of your paranoia.
As you sat there, you tried your best to control your breathing, feeling it go out of control every time the thought of him knowing more than he should've creeped back into your mind. Maybe you really were just going crazy for all you knew.
Your hand shakily reached up to the ignition with the key to start the far, you couldn't think about this right now. Not in the middle of who knows where, alone, in a car. You tried, keyword tried, to push it away, to shoo away the bad thoughts until you were in a safer environment to be allowed to do so.
You drove back to the manor, trying to keep your mind in a happy place. Thinking of things to distract yourself, not noticing the skillfully hidden figure watching your vehicle make its way onto the street.
You slowly made your way towards the manor doors, not wanting to go in. God, why didn't you ask to stay over at a friend's house? If anytime was good, now would be, when your head was working against you and you could've used a friend to help you with it all.
Ah.
Your mind went back to a few certain people as you thought that. As much as you would've loved to, staying at a friend's house when some people were, "keeping an eye out on you," Suddenly disappearing probably wouldn't be the smartest move on your part.
You let out a sigh as you slowly opened the doors, looking around for a minute before making the hike up the stairs and back to your room. You kept looking around, at all the little places you memorized from walking through these halls for years. Something you were hoping would change very soon.
You jumped out of your trance as you felt a hand tap on your shoulder, whipping around and coming face to face with Duke who still had a worried look on his face. You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it as he beat you to it.
"Are you alright? I was worried when you disappeared all of a sudden." You held back to urge to roll your eyes, "yeah I'm fine don't worry. Really, there's no reason to be worried." You stood there awkwardly for a second before slowly turning to make your way back to your room.
Duke suddenly put that to a halt as he said, "hey, you shouldn't stress yourself out so much. I know you wanna work hard, but maybe try to relax, yeah?" You looked back at him, trying to think of what to say.
You would've been mad if it was anyone else, should've been mad nonetheless, but you never really knew Duke. He was always nice, and you both were older, teens when you both had first met. Despite everything, he still treated you the kindest.
So you sighed, before fully turning to face him. You softly smiled at him before saying, "thanks Duke, I'll keep that in mind." You patted his arm before walking back to your room trying to ignore the face he made, just wanting to sleep and prepare yourself for whatever tomorrow intailed.
Man you wished that you were old enough to drink.
You adjusted your uniform, tidying up as best as you could. You were a tad bit nervous, more than usual as today was the day you decided to quit a club. You had to step out of your comfort zone, and maybe it wasn't a big deal to some, but for you it was a really big deal.
All the times you had walked through those halls, hoping for something more from the very people that lived there, it hurt more than everything. And it still didnt hurt any less, but you were gonna make it okay, because you did have people to rely on, people who would be there, who would gladly hang up your photos and take time out of their day to be with you.
You wanted more then everything to start doing stuff you liked, be with people you liked, so that's exactly what you were going to do.
You gathered up the rest of your stray items and set them into your bag. Nervous yes, but overall thrilled to be doing this, patting your self before making your way towards your door to get to school.
You looked at a picture from one of the many photo booths you had run into the night before, hung up on your wall of you, Aryan and Ethan, all smiling, happy and making weird faces.
For the first time in awhile going to school didn't seem to hard.
"I'm sorry, I'm what?"
Your debate teachers face scrunched up slightly as he started to explain, "well, you're out, that's it." He paused before continuing, "technically, isn't that what you wanted? So I don't see the problem." You felt nothing but absolute confusion as he said that, slowly processing his words.
You did amazing, was, were, one of the best debaters, you were always helpful, willing to offer a helping hand to those that needed one, inside and outside the class. So what was the problem? Why were you suddenly cut off the team?
Him sighing and gesturing for you to lean in brought back your attention, "look, kid, to be honest, your amazing. But, this other kid, don't really know his name, started with a D? I don't know, but he waltzed in here, saying how he wanted you off the team, and started going on about you and stuff, something like that."
He scratched his head, "usually, I would just shoo people like that off, but he had a signed paper and everything!" He waved his arms around to emphasize the paper, "look, I'm sorry kid, I figured you knew about it since... well, y'know."
You could feel a huge headache coming on, desperately needing a pill. You paused your thoughts as you took what he said to mind. You stumbled on your words, "I- I'm sorry, Damien?" He nodded his head, getting a grim look on his face, "don't get me wrong, I've dealt with some freaky kids, but that one was definitely pretty freakish."
You were about to make your way into another rant, when you decided to leave it as it is. As much as you wanted to fight him on it, you know it wasn't his fault. You took a breath and forced yourself to calm down and smiled at him politely before taking your stuff and storming off, making turns through the halls towards your car.
You were going to talk to him, yell, whatever. Yes, you were going to quit the club, or a club, but just because didn't mean he had the right to butt in. It was your choice to make, one that seemed to be a good one, one that make you excited until you got there only to find out Damien had gotten you kicked out in the first place.
You and Damien never had a close relationship, always having some sort of rift between the two of you no matter what you did to try and repair it. And for once, for once, you decided you were gonna move on, live your own life, and he decides he doesn't want that?
No.
You weren't gonna just let him decide this. This was for you to decide, and you weren't gonna let him make something that should've been a new chapter into something else as he had done one too many times. You really didn't want that to happen right now, especially when this particular thing was supposed to be a turning point for you.
Maybe you were being dramatic, but in all honesty you couldn't care less. Sure, maybe at the base of it all, what you were really mad at was not just this, but all the other times he was ruined things for you, turning stuff that made you happy into stuff that made you cry and sick everytime it entered your sight, the fact that you were always to weak to put a stop to it.
You just hoped that you would be strong enough to tell him this time.
You slowly made your way towards Damien, having searched for him for a good while. You were filled with anger earlier, but it slowly faded away and out of your body once you noticed Dick standing by him.
You didn't know how to confront him with Dick by your side, at most he wouldn't care, right? You hoped with every fiber in your body that they would push whatever you decided on saying to the deep depths of their minds. As you neared them, the moment they took notice of you, you almost had to double back and go throw up from how nervous you were.
But, you held your ground and continued walking until you were infront of them, trying to hide how harshly you were breathing and the mini panic attack you were having on the inside. "Damien, can I talk to you, somewhere private?" You said with as much confidence you could muster. He stared for a moment before responding, "why? We can talk right here."
The small bite in his tone reminded you exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. Taking a deep breath, "fine. Damien, why did you get me kicked out of my club? It's my club, and you shouldn't have to go behind my back to talk to my teacher." You waited, trying your best to ignore Dick just staring at you.
He rubbed his eyes, sighing, before giving you a fierce look, "look, whether you like it or not, you're my sister. What you do directly effects me and father. And I'd rather not have to deal with you passing out in public, with everyone as a witness."
You scoffed at what he said, " your sister? Well whether you like it or not, it's not for you to decide! What I decide to do with my life outside- actually, inside this manor as well, had absolutely nothing to do with you, or anyone else that lives here."
You breathed harshly out of your nose, trying to keep a cool head but failing miserably. You took in a deep breath before starting another rant, " and y'know what Damien? I passed out once why does everyone think I'm suddenly this super fragile person?" -You barely noticed the way he winced from the pure venom of which you spat his name- "I honestly hate-"
Suddenly Dick covered your mouth, pausing after doing so as if not even meaning to. His eyes jolted around for a bit before settling on whispering, "please don't say stuff like that, okay?" You stared at him, pushing his hand off your mouth. "Say what? That I hate your guts? Is that what the problem is?"
He almost looked surprised at the hatred in your voice, before letting out a sigh, "look, I'm sorry okay? You're probably tired, and just need to go lay down-"
You laughed incredulously, absolutely shocked at his words. Had he even been listening? You decided that you had had enough of his- no, enough of their bullshit. It wasn't your job to cater to their every whim.
You decided then and there to just leave. You rubbed hard at your face, as if to try and rid of the tension and unadulterated anger coursing through your body. Was this whole family crazy? You honestly couldn't care less, you were tired, hungry, and just wanted to be somewhere safe.
You suddenly looked at the two annoyed, "I'm gonna stay at a friend's house tonight. Bye!" Quickly turning around, you started to make your way back down where you had come from. You pushed anything they had said out of your head as you tried to mentally retrace your footsteps back.
Because you had already spaced out, you hadn't noticed Dick speading towards you, completely blocking your path. You jumped at him suddenly invading your view, giving him a questioning look. He looked back at Damien a few times before muttering a quick, 'I'm sorry' and snatching your phone out of your hand.
You looked at him incredulously, at this point really wondering if it was all a dream. Dick stood there, trying to convince you to go to your room. "Look, I'm sorry, can you please go back for now? I promise I'll give it back later I just-" He paused as he looked back at Damien, the both of them having a silent conversation.
Suddenly Damien sighed and spoke up, "go away, I need to talk to Dick." You could feel his stare bore into the back of your head. You scoffed and just left, figuring it wasn't worth the fight. Although you wanted to try and grab it, you tried to soothe yourself with the fact that you still had your computer to contact someone- anyone.
Running Walking away, you could faintly hear Damien start to talk to Dick, 'I thought we told you already-' but you quickly pushed it out of your head. All you could think of at the moment was how pissed you were with those two, what was their problem??
Frankly, any other day you wouldn't have left. It was your phone, and they couldn't just suddenly decide to team up and take it away. But, you didn't care anymore, you were done with having nothing to deal with, then now having to deal with everything.
You tried to soothe yourself with the fact that this time tomorrow you would be out of here.
You walked into your room and slammed the door, sliding down against it trying your best to calm down. For all you knew they could've broken it. You mentally beat yourself up for not just snatching the phone back. The thought of that made you remember something as you sprung up, making your way towards your desk.
Pulling multiple draws open before your eyes finally landed on what you were looking for, you quickly grabbed it out, pushing along the few trinkets that resided on top.
Your laptop.
You needed to message someone, maybe Aryan? Would she even answer? Or maybe Ethan, he might-
.
You paused before quickly turning back towards the desk, once again looking through the drawer that held your laptop. You looked through it multiple times, taking everything out before moving towards other drawers.
After moving everything out, looking once again through the mountain of items that sat om your floor, even going as far as any other desks, drawers, hell, your backpack. Yet no matter where you looked, you couldn't find it. Did someone steal it? Did Aryan- or no, even Miss Honey take it?
Where the hell was your camera?
The dim room was faintly lit up by the big computer screen, shining onto nearby objects and the young man who sat at the desk it resided on. He watched the video, taking in every detail of it. The small giggles that got let out every now and then, the way you threw flour at the other girl in the video, laughing and smiling brightly.
Tim looked over the video, and the many others that were on the sim card over and over again. It was so weird- he never really cared about you, still didn't really. Then what was that aching tug in his heart? but nonetheless, seeing you there, no longer the small kid that he could always sense trailing somewhere behind him, it was weird.
He remembers the first time he met you, you coming up to him with a smile, bandages on your knee, hair wild. It was amusing seeing someone so full of life and color in such a desolate and dark manor. With how sleep deprived he was, he genuinely thought for a second that he went to the wrong manor.
But you weren't little, you weren't the same joy filled kid that he ran into so few times. You were older, and because he didn't know you it was easier to just place you as a faceless nobody.
Well, until you were brought to his attention.
It was like a parasite, the way he slowly heard more and more people talking about you, worrying about you. It honestly didn't make sense. You really weren't special, you had a few quirks here and there, but that was about it. What was so different?
After he ransacked your room, looking through drawers and settling on stealing a camera, he connected it to his computer and looked through the contents. There was a mountain of pictures, ranging from sunsets, to photos with friends, to even the beautiful shimmering ocean.(when did you visit the ocean?)
As much as he hated to admit it, he understood where the rest were coming from. The fact that you hadn't ever touched the dark vigilante life- never having the get your hands dirty from another person's blood, it made you so much different than them.
You were human, something to be treasured, to be kept safe and sound. He couldn't help but think of how different you seemed as of late. In the few times he saw you, he saw a quiet wallflower. But now? Seeing you so of life almost made him... admire you in a way.
The humanity you had, having the ability to be happy and share your love with those around you so freely. He could tell from each picture and video he looked at, the way you talked, looked, it made it so clear that you were someone overflowing with love.
And he longed for you to share it with him as well.
Hey guys...long time no see....
(*´Д`)
I wanted to drop this chapter for christmasss!!! Sorry it isn't Christmas themed though (-。-;) Can you guys tell how readers slowly starting to get more pissed off?? I'm VERY excited to not write a breakdown wink wink Anywaysss I've said this a million times but MERRY CHRISTMAS Or HAPPY HOLIDAYS if you dont celebrate SENDING HUGS AND KISSES TAGLIST : @wizzerreblogs, @darktrashpoetry, @daddyissuesehe, @chericia, @iluvcatzz, @fightmebissh, @fionnalopez-blog, @otterluver05, @kitkatkitmeow, @caged-birdies-blog, @ocean-mochi, @tatsuri-zomushiki, @nickey-diano, @nickey-diano, @cloudserenity, @seleneprince, @degenerates-posts, @definitely-not-sammie, @pix-stuff, @nervousalpacalady, @mys0cksrwet, @kore-of-the-underworld, @lilyalone, @alliwantisadonut, @shadowytravlerlover, @dreamsarenicer, @dhanyasri, @blackbirdsblackberries Thank you for the support 💓 I'm going to bed now (´Д` )
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#reader insert#nom nom nom#yandere batfam x reader#platonic batfam#batfam#x reader#platonic yandere
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜
ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game
╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words
contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman
➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!
₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!
gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied.
most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.
at least that’s what you believe most of the time.
you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.
you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past.
he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?
these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).
they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark.
what did your husband do for a living, exactly?
his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel.
as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all.
“what if he’s having an affair?”
you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”
today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep.
“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”
“oh my god, could you imagine?”
“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—
“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”
“but he treats me so well—”
“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.
“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.
“right… thanks guys…”
that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.
you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”
“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake.
“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”
“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours.
it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.
“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.
he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.
you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.
he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”
“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”
“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”
“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”
“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”
you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.
it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back.
at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction.
then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later.
you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine.
as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease.
your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.
his birthday?
an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.
your birthday?
wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.
the date of your wedding?
you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.
and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?
whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.
there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station.
“ji-cheol?”
he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”
“what do you do for a living, exactly?”
a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“
“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”
“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”
“so he was right?”
he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road.
“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.
he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.
“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”
you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough.
“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.
#📜. her works#the salesman#the salesman x reader#gong yoo#gong yoo x reader#squid game#squid game x reader
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A different "A Second Mystery Texter"
Masterpost
Tim Drake had been subtly keeping an eye on Jason’s behavior. The Red Hood rarely smiled at his phone unless he was planning something chaotic, so Tim’s curiosity was piqued.
“Who are you texting?” Tim asked casually, leaning against the doorway.
Jason didn’t even look up. “None of your business.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “You’re grinning. That’s suspicious.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “It’s just some kid who texted me by mistake. Chill, Drake.”
Tim tilted his head. “A kid? You’re texting a kid?”
Jason groaned. “He’s not that young. Teenager, I think. And he’s got some... interesting problems.”
Tim’s curiosity only grew. He waited until Jason left his phone unattended to grab a drink, then swooped in. The most recent messages caught his attention immediately.
“‘Plasmius’? Ghosts? Supernatural hotspot?” Tim muttered, scrolling. “Oh, this is good.”
A Few Hours Later
Danny was sitting on his bed, scrolling through memes, when his phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Hey, is this Danny?
Danny frowned.
Danny: Uh, yeah. Who’s asking?
Unknown Number: Tim Drake. Jason mentioned you.
Danny blinked. Who the heck was Tim Drake?
Danny: Jason told someone about me? What, is he running a support group now?
Tim: Not exactly. I just wanted to know more about you. Ghosts, supernatural stuff—it’s not every day you meet someone who deals with that kind of thing.
Danny hesitated. He hadn’t expected Jason to share his existence with anyone, let alone someone who sounded this... professional.
Danny: Well, I don’t “deal” with it. I kinda live it. Long story.
Tim: I’ve got time.
Danny groaned. Why do I always attract the curious ones?
Meanwhile, in the Batcave
Jason walked back into the room, drinking a soda, and immediately noticed Tim glued to his phone.
“Drake, what are you doing?” Jason asked suspiciously.
Tim glanced up with a smug grin. “Just making a new friend.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “If you’re texting Danny, I swear—”
Tim interrupted him. “Relax. I just want to know more about him. He seems... interesting.”
Jason grabbed his phone and checked his messages. Sure enough, Danny had texted:
Danny: Did you give my number to someone named Tim? Because he just messaged me out of nowhere.
Jason: Drake stole your number. Ignore him.
Danny: Too late. He’s already asking about ghosts.
Jason glared at Tim. “Stay out of this, Drake.”
Tim smirked. “You’re just mad I got to him first. Besides, he could be useful. A kid dealing with supernatural threats? He might need someone with actual resources.”
Jason groaned. “You’re gonna scare him off.”
Tim shrugged. “We’ll see.”
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dp x dc#blue rambles#crossover#random idea#writing ideas#batman#jason todd#danny phantom dc#wrong number#au#Jason is concerned and doing his best to keep the green at bay#Danny is freaking out cause he just spilled everything#oh no#danny is already stressed over his life#he doesnt need more#he totally does the disappearing peace out meme when he spots Redhood in town a few days later#and Redhood totally got Babs to hunt down the owner of the number and boy oh boy does that open a can of worms#anti-ecto acts piss him off cause he technically falls under it too#and thats just touching the surface of things that piss him off#dps fandom#dc x dp crossover#batfam#danny is a little shit#dpxdc#ghost king danny#dc x dp#sassy danny#danny being danny
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I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus
"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.
"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."
Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-
Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-
Is overthinking.
Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.
He's been caught.
"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.
"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.
"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.
Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.
"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."
"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"
"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"
"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.
Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.
"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."
"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.
"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.
"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.
"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.
"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.
"I do fly-"
"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.
"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.
"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.
"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."
"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.
"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."
"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."
They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.
Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.
"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."
"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.
"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.
"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."
Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.
"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.
"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.
Tommy tries.
He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.
"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.
"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.
Tommy is completely charmed by him.
"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.
That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'
"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.
He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.
#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#chimney han#jee yun buckley han#my writing#tevan#911 abc#totalnerdwrites#christmas#all mistakes are my own
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Stuffed
12 Days of Christmas: Day 1, December 25th, 2024
ARTMS' Jeon Heejin & Kim Jungeun/Kim Lip x Male Reader
2.7k words
Christmas Masterlist
“Hey!”
A sound comes from your back in the long hallway of the hotel. It’s Heejin. She looks as beautiful as ever—brown eyes, sharp nose, and that pretty little mouth—but what could she want at this hour? It’s 11 P.M.!
“Hey,” you reply, perplexed by her antics late at night. You’re in your comfy pajamas right now, and you couldn’t have possibly been arsed with another errand for the women. “What is it, Heejin?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking–” she pauses, letting the anticipation linger in the air. You gulp. “–it’s coming towards the end of the tour.”
She stops again.
Is it something shameful?
“Yes, Heejin?”
“And with all the things you’ve done, I’d like to thank you with something,” says Heejin, twisting her hair with her fingers. Her eyes are darting everywhere else but yours, tiptoeing.
It’s definitely something shameful, but you really have to go to sleep for now.
“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself. “Heejin, I do appreciate it, really, but–”
“It won’t be long, trust me,” she pleads, holding onto your hands.
She really needs you to see it.
“Heejin, please, I want to go–”
Your train of thoughts is wrecked as Heejin pulls out her puppy eyes. Fuck, they’re irresistible.
And you just have to give in.
“Fine, just–take me to the place,” you groan.
She beams before leading you to the reward. She always looks like an angel when she smiles, and you can’t help but smile along with her.
She guides you into her room. It’s spacious and cozy. A television. A make-up table. A bathroom. There’s everything that a hotel room should have.
But there’s something off with this room, and it’s not the fact that Jungeun, in her black dress, is sitting on the bed, joining Heejin in her thankful gesture. Her face is unreadable.
It’s the strap-ons beside her—two of them, to be exact. Your eyes widen at the implications.
You’re getting pegged tonight, and the flaccid cock inside your shorts starts to grow.
You turn to Heejin. “H–Heejin, what’s this? Am I getting–”
“You’re right! We’ll be pegging you tonight!” Heejin says.
The size doesn’t look compromising for your holes at all. You’re definitely getting gaped by them.
“W–With those?”
Jungeun joins the conversation, expressionless, “Yeah.”
“B–But how? What? Do you guys just carry around lube during the tour and waiting to fuck my ass in the final days?” you have to ask, trying to delay the unavoidable.
Jungeun lets out a small chuckle. “Well, what do you think?”
Your mouth opens wide, not expecting such a gesture from the women. You’re appreciative of it, of course, but just not tonight—when you’re this damn drowsy.
“Girls, I just don’t think–ah!”
Heejin pulls your shorts down in a swoop, revealing your hard cock beneath, already leaking from the thought of being used by these women.
You turn back to her. “Heejin!”
A giggle leaves her pretty lips before tossing the shorts away to the side of the bed. “On all fours, please, cutie.”
“We’re not doing this again after today, baby–” says Jungeun, smirking, patting the space beside her. “–better listen to Heejin.”
You alternate between Heejin and Jungeun nervously, before complying with the request. You climb onto the bed, on all fours. Your ass is exposed to the cold air of the room. You start to shiver.
“Good boy,” Jungeun says, before sucking her middle finger and sticking it into your snug hole.
Pain and pleasure shoots through you like a bullet. You hear a giggle from the women. Jungeun slowly pushes her slim finger into you. You wail and wail from the sensations.
“Fuck!”
“Keep moaning like that, baby. This is just a warmup,” Jungeun says.
Heejin walks towards you, giving your ass a loud smack, sending a shockwave through you once more.
“Fuck, shit!”
The women chuckle again. You can feel Jungeun’s finger buried inside your ass up to the hilt. Your body shakes and writhes in response.
“Do you want daddy to nudge that prostate, baby?” Jungeun asks.
You suck a sudden, torn between wanting her finger out of your asshole and being stimulated by that lean digit of hers.
And you give in to the pleasure.
“Y–Yes, d–daddy.”
The first flick elicits a loud moan out of you. You feel like some common whore at this point—having your mushy prostate played with. Your body shivers erratically.
“Hmm, good boy,” utters Jungeun before flicking her finger again. Your body tenses up at her touch.
She pushes her finger into your softness again, and again, and again. Your cock twitches and shakes as the rapture is shot through you. You wail and whimper erratically.
From behind, Heejin climbs onto the bed to face your gleefully contorted face, smiling. The finger inside your ass cannot change your opinion on her—she’s still fucking gorgeous.
“Baby boy,” says Heejin, tilting her head just a little.
“Y–Yes, daddy?”
She lifts a finger up before pushing it softly into your mouth. You taste the hint of sweat on her finger, staring drunkenly into her hypnotic eyes, gleaming with desire. You’re moaning into her digit from the penetration from behind. She’s smiling, and you can do this just forever. Jungeun is still playing with your soft prostate. Your body is starting to get sore now from the submissive posture. Each nibbling of her digit brings out an airy moan onto Heejin’s finger.
“You’re such a good boy for us, you know?” Heejin says, inserting another finger into your mouth.
“Th–Thanks, daddy,” you reply, slightly muted.
After what felt like an eternity, Jungeun pulls her finger out of your now-spread hole. It heaves, missing its stuffing. You shriek at the absence of her digit, but you know that there’s going to be something else filling you up.
You keep sucking Heejin’s fingers. She’s salty. You feel so submissive right now, and you’d do anything to let this go on for forever.
“Alright, pretty boy, time for the big thing now,” says Jungeun. She takes off her sweatpants swiftly. You pull off from Heejin’s fingers to look back at what’s going on behind you. Again, your eyes widen at the sight.
Jungeun is putting on the harness strapped with a huge phallus, ready to thrust into your tightness with the object. Your breathing speeds up, excited by her gigantic cock.
And she remembers something.
“Shit, I’ll go wash my hands first.” Jungeun then hastily heads to the bathroom.
“Sure! I’ll watch our pretty boy closely,” Heejin purrs with a smirk. Her free hand forcefully grabs you by the chin to look into her ethereal eyes.
“Are you ready to be fucked by us, baby?” Heejin looks into your eyes, and they’re gleaming with desire. You’re lost in it. Fuck.
“Y–Yes, daddy,” you can only comply, before Heejin pulls her pants down quickly on the bed, throwing it to god knows where. Your eyes are glued to her wet cunt, but sadly (or not), that’s not going to be your main dish today.
You’re still on all fours, holes ready to be abused by these women like a common whore. Heejin puts on her strap quickly. She just can’t wait to fuck your tightness until you’re unable to walk tomorrow. Those people at the airport are going to laugh at you, walking weakly into the immigration section.
“Turn around, baby,” Heejin says softly, such a contradiction to the gigantic cock she’s wearing. You comply with her request, slowly turning around for your ass to sit against her plastic hardness. You can see a faint reflection of you two on the television.
Suddenly, Heejin grips onto your waist with her soft hands, and you shiver at the coldness of it from the air conditioner. Perhaps they’re a bit too cold.
“I–It’s so cold, daddy.”
“You’ll be fine, baby. You’ll forget how cold my hands are when my dick is in your ass.” And you hear her giggle.
Heejin then pours a generous amount of lube onto her cock, while also plunging her wet finger inside your tightness, painting your inner walls with lubricant. Your body trembles in response. Fuck, she even plays with your prostate just like Jungeun did.
“I’m going to get you nice and wet, okay? Don’t be so tense,” says Heejin, finally pulling her finger out after a while, before pushing the tip into your asshole. She’s fucking you now. So soft, yet so confident in her strokes.
“Fuck!” you cry out in pleasure. Your ass is getting gaped by Heejin’s strap. She’s so big, and you can’t help but shake and writhe as the phallus slowly finds its place inside you.
“Good boy, moan for me like that, baby. Your moan is like a song to me, a damn good one,” Heejin coos.
Her length is slowly pushed and pushed inside you. Its artificial veins graze the walls of your tight asshole. Her grips on your waist grow harsher, but you forget the coldness of them now. With this dick inside your ass, you just can’t think straight.
“You’re s–so big, daddy. I’m so dizzy, hhgnn,” you moan, your mind is going haywire now. You’re at her mercy.
“You’re doing this so well, baby. You’re taking my cock like a champ. Just one more inch and I’ll be fully inside you!”
Her dick starts to press into your prostate gently, sending unbearable pleasure through you. You moan and wail like a slut as it puts a pressure onto your softness until she halts her movement. She’s there. She’s at the hilt.
“I–Is it all inside me, daddy?” you ask; your body is still shaking from the divine rapture Heejin is giving to you.
“Yes, baby, I’m pulling out now.”
Heejin then pulls her enormous cock out of you, slowly. And when it’s half out, she rams it back into you, causing you to moan like a cock-drunk slut.
“Daddy! Ngh.”
“Good boy, good boy,” Heejin coos. Her cock contradicts her gentle words.
“Alright, guys, let’s get this done–” Jungeun walks out of the bathroom, and you see her gasp in shock. “This is not what we’ve agreed on, Heejin.”
Again, you hear Heejin giggle. “Come on, Jungeun. You got to play with his ass, let me!” she purrs.
“Aside, he still has another hole you can fill.” Heejin then reaches for your mouth, inserting her fingers into you and pulling your head up gently from the inside of your hole. Your body arches.
“Ugh, fine, Heejin. But next time, I want to fuck his ass for real, alright?” Jungeun growls before walking towards you. Her artificial cock bounces with her movement before she stops right in front of you.
“Take it, baby, say ah,” Heejin coos.
You play along with her, “Ah.”
Jungeun’s cock is dangling against your face, so lengthy, so thick. Globs of your spit are going to leak out of your mouth when she fucks it roughly.
She grabs onto your head as Heejin lets go of it, leaving your head swaying freely from the force that she fucks you. Jungeun holds her plastic dick in front of your needy lips. You’re still letting out an ‘ah’ sound, ready to take her hardness inside your mouth.
Languidly, Jungeun pushes her length into you, and you start to gag as it reaches the inside of your mouth. You won’t complain, of course (aside from the fact that Jungeun’s cock is in your mouth). You’re happy to be freely used by these women like this while calling them daddy and such monikers. Drool leaks out of your mouth like a fountain. Your eyes flutter with unmatchable pleasure from the women. Your holes are abused roughly, and you’re ecstatic to be their prey.
Jungeun’s cock is slowly pressed into your slutty throat. You gag loudly, but they don’t care, seeing the wanton eyes and all.
“Yes, take my cock like that, you slut,” Jungeun says, grabbing onto the side of your head roughly. Her nails are digging into your scalp. Pain shoots through you. “Such a good boy for daddy.”
You scream into her cock, but it goes unheard, as she starts to pick up her pace quickly. She thrusts and thrusts into your needy mouth. Globs of spit leaks out of your mouth onto the bed. The sound you make is intelligible.
You absolutely adore the way these women are using and abusing you like this–Jungeun pressing her cock into your needy, wanton mouth, and Heejin plunging her dick into your tightness from behind. It’s an ecstatic feeling, really, to be used and abused like this.
“What a cockslut,” Jungeun says sternly. Her cock still ravaging your throat. You gag and gag endlessly, but you’re damn happy to take all of her. Your eyes can’t see anything straight now; they flutter and flutter and Jungeun rams into your hole. Her scent fills your nostrils—musky and tart. It’s like an aphrodisiac.
She then grips onto the back of your head, as if taking it to the hilt isn’t just enough. Suddenly, Jungeun presses herself onto your nose, making your air just the scent of her, all while Heejin is hammering into your prostate. Your mouth is full of her plastic cock.
You can barely breathe. Your eyes water. You make gagging sounds. Though that means shit. You’re revelling in the way you’re sucking Jungeun’s cock, buried inside your slutty mouth. Heejin is fucking your asshole from behind, chasing your orgasm like a prize.
Her tartness is filling your nose. You’re hypnotized by it. You’re so ready to follow any of her commands. Her eyes then meet yours. They gleam with unmatchable sinfulness. She wants this, and you want this.
After a short while, Jungeun pulls her cock out of your used mouth. Your body is shaking and writhing from the pleasure ringing inside you, all while strings of saliva connect your mouth with her phallus.
“Good fucking boy,” Heejin grunts, and you can only smile back at her.
“T–Thanks–cough–daddy,” you sputter out.
Jungeun starts pushing her cock into your slutty mouth again, this time thrusting in and out of it. Your prostate is getting assaulted by Heejin’s cock, one bang after another. Her nails are still digging into your creamy skin on the sides. And the feeling starts to build up inside your stomach. The storm is approaching. You’re going to cum soon!
“D–Daddy,” you say, gagged, muffled by Jungeun’s cock.
“Yes?” Heejin and Jungeun say in unison, and they let out a laugh after—a wicked one.
“I’m gonna–ngh–cum.”
“Cum for us, pretty boy. Consider this your reward,” Jungeun growls, as Heejin giggles from behind you.
Your muscles tense up. Your breaths are growing faster onto Jungeun’s meaty thighs. Heejin is thrusting in and out of you faster than before. She then gives you a loud spank, sending another electric charge through you.
And you break, your cock spills cum out onto the white bedsheets. Your body spasms and shakes as Heejin and Jungeun thrust their cock into you. Those poor staff are going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow.
It’s a copious amount of cum that leaks out of you. You can feel your dick twitches in pleasure. Successive spurts grow softer and softer, and finally, the orgasm dies down. You pant and pant onto Jungeun’s cock, and they seem to catch the stride and pull their lengths out of you. Breathing becomes easier, but your asshole is sorely missing Heejin’s cock. You’re too tired to say anything, though.
“That was so good, baby,” Heejin says, giving your reddened rear another hard spank. You shudder in response.
“I wish we had more time for this, fuck,” Jungeun says, slowly taking her strap off. Heejin is doing the same.
Tired, used, and naked from below the waist, you collapse to the side, panting. Your butthole heaves, missing the presence of its filling. You’re unable to close your mouth too, jaw still adjusting to the absence of a cock.
“Look at him, so cute~,” Heejin says, patting your back to sleep.
“Next time, I’m fucking his ass, Heejin. Don’t pull another shit like this on me.”
“Fineee.”
Your body is all sore from all the stuffing they’ve done to you, but your mind is still in haywire, basking in the joy they’ve inflicted you. And you close your eyes, falling into the nocturne.
—
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He Can't Have You
This is a new Evan Buckley imagine requested by the lovely @darkfemme1 I hope you will all like it.
There is a follow up already complete for this, please let me know what you all think.
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Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) and Evan's baby is due any day now, therefore (Y/n) hangs around the station a lot so she isn't alone. But things take a bad turn when her ex finds her. And kidnaps her.
Enjoy.
(Merry Christmas!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hey stranger."
A smile flooded (Y/n)'s face when she looked to the right and saw Bobby aiming her way.
"Hi Bobby,"
Part of her felt bad for turning up unannounced, at least, she hadn't been invited to the station. This was a busy, hectic place and (Y/n) always felt like she needed an invite to turn up here. Evan changed her mind. He practically begged her to come down to the station whenever she wanted, he said having a visit from her boosted him up and made his day even better. Especially when he was doing long shifts and he started to miss and yearn for her.
Bobby always told the team that family could always stop by and he was often telling (Y/n) she wouldn't be a burden or be in the way if she had to come by and see Evan for any reason.
"Buck said you'd be stopping by, how are you?" He saw the surprise light up her eyes and she stepped closer while she glanced around. The station seemed rather mellow today.
"Tired… and I was sort of conscripted to come over." (Y/n) rolled her lips together into a thin smile and glanced her eyes down.
Her hands moved to cradle her bump that was getting in the way of almost everything lately.
With her due date being next week, Evan was starting to get on edge. He didn't want her going into labour without him or while he was out on a call, and he dreaded the thought of (Y/n) being alone when it happened or something going wrong. The the last two weeks, Evan had been telling (Y/n) to stop by the station whenever she wanted, whether it was to have lunch with the team or to stay with them if she didn't feel great.
She had practically become part of the furniture and all the team loved it when she stopped by.
Bobby had agreed that with (Y/n) being so close to her due date and Evan still working, (Y/n) could stop at the station while he was on shift so she wasn't home alone.
"Well we'll all be glad you're here. Come get a drink and we'll find Buck." Bobby beckoned (Y/n) over to him and she gladly followed him towards the stairs. Her hand curled around his arm and she let him lead her up the stairs towards the kitchen.
(Y/n) loved the smile she saw on her husband's face when she and Bobby reached the top of the stairs and found Evan stood in the kitchen with Chimney.
He was leaning back against the counter, hips pushed out, one hand behind him gripping the counter while his other hand brought a mug of coffee to his blushing red lips that were quirked up into a bright smile. He chuckled into his mug and barely managed a mouthful before his eyes set on his captain and noticed who was stood with him.
"Hey, there are my girls." Evan set down his cup and pushed off the counter with a bounce in his step and a quirk of his brow when he noticed the blush that crept up (Y/n)'s neck and onto her cheeks at his remark. It was about time she turned up to see them, Evan had been missing her already.
When he reached her, Evan wrapped his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and instantly reeled her into his chest. His palms spread out over the small of her back, allowing his fingers to skim up and down her dress and he couldn't dampen his smile, even when he leaned down to kiss her. Just seeing (Y/n) brightened Evan's mood and made him feel elated.
He felt (Y/n)'s hands smooth up his arms and her fingers dug sweetly into his biceps. Evan rolled his lips together and nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s as he kept his forehead pressed against hers until (Y/n) leaned forward to bury her face in his shoulder.
"You okay?"
(Y/n) felt him whisper the words against the side of her head and she could feel his lips tickling her skin and his nose brushing against her hair.
"Yeah, we're doing fine." Her lips curved when she felt one of Evan's arms retract from her waist so his hand could cup the side of her stomach. The feeling of his thumb tracing across her bump over her dress made adrenaline pool in her stomach. And (Y/n) knew if they were at home and not here in front of friends, Evan would have lifted her dress to hold her bump properly.
"Good, that's what I wanna hear. Do you want a drink?" Turning to the side, Evan kept one arm around (Y/n)'s waist and moved towards the kitchen where Bobby was now pouring himself a drink. He felt (Y/n)'s arms circle around his middle rather tightly like she was trying to squeeze all the air out of him but it was strangely comforting.
(Y/n) nodded her head but when they reached the kitchen, her hands tightened in Evan's middle until her nails almost pierced through his shirt into his skin. She pushed her forehead into his chest and leaned her weight onto him when the baby started to move around.
"Babe?" Evan stopped walking and moved his hands to hold (Y/n)'s arms but she reached up and held his wrists with a deep breath and a smile.
"Just tense… God, your kid's heavy."
"Uh, the midwife said she's perfect, actually." Evan murmured the words against the top of her head with a smirk playing on his lips when (Y/n) rolled her eyes. They both knew he was taking that slightly out of context, the midwife had told them that their baby was the normal weight and size and that she was doing perfectly well. Of course, that was music to Evan's ears.
She changed direction and headed over to the table where Eddie and Hen were playing a round of cards. She felt better when she sat down and as expected, Evan followed her. His hand cupped her thigh as he crouched down beside her, staring up at her with that sugary sweet smile that always managed to melt (Y/n) in every possible way.
He shifted his other hand up to her stomach and a broad grin spread across his lips when he felt movement.
"She's happy today."
A burning sensation flooded through (Y/n)'s stomach and fluttered up her chest when Evan gently took her chin between his fingers and thumb and tilted her head down so she was level with him. She could see the love pooling in his eyes and the way his lips were dithering between a placid smile and a concerned look when he noticed the discomfort etched onto her face.
"I'm okay," She answered his silent question and reached down to hold his wrist as if making sure he wasn't about to move his hand away from her bump.
His lips formed back into the bright smile he wore earlier and he perched his chin down on (Y/n)'s thigh, squeezed her hip and carded his thumb across her stomach. Evan was always thrilled any time the baby moved and he was around to feel it. It was like he was witnessing a miracle and it always made (Y/n) smile to see that look in his eyes and have his hands roaming across her stomach with such wonder.
"Should we expect the new arrival soon?" A grin pulled on Eddie's lips as he looked over his hand of cards to glance across at the couple.
"Not today," (Y/n) shook her head and she smiled, murmuring her thanks when Bobby placed a drink down on the table next to her.
She was ready to have this baby, but it didn't feel like their girl would be making an appearance anytime soon. At least not today. She seemed settled and comfy, especially with Evan now muttering incoherent whispers to her that (Y/n) couldn't make out. She was always finding Evan whispering things to the baby now, ever since he read somewhere that babies could recognise voices while they were in the womb.
"Shame, I think someone's getting impatient." Hen smiled softly and pointed over towards Evan.
The team could all see that he was bouncing off the walls recently. Every phone call he got from (Y/n) made him jump and he seemed to hold his breath, waiting for her to tell him she was in labour, but it hadn't happened yet. They all knew Evan was anxious to have his baby girl in his arms by now.
"I-"
The smile on Evan's face dwindled and the words faded on his tongue when the alarm went off.
His smile turned into a grimace and he locked his jaw, shaking his head to himself. That noise was like a bad omen. When they were waiting around, bored, wishing for a call, all they got was nothing. And then they got days where they couldn't even get a drink before they were back out again.
It was like a twisted game and it was irritating. Evan didn't want to go yet, not when (Y/n) had only just got here, but it was out of his hands now. Knowing (Y/n) was going to be here when they got back made Evan feel a little better.
"You're staying here and waiting for us to get back, aren't you?" Evan pushed up to his feet but the look on his face and his hands on his hips told (Y/n) he wasn't really asking, he was telling.
He wanted her to stick around here so if she went into labour or she didn't feel well, someone would always be around. She was in the safest place by being here. And it meant Evan would see her for a bit longer if she stuck around until they came back from this call.
(Y/n) looked across at Bobby for confirmation that she was alright to hang around the station if the team went out. The smile on his face and the warm look in his eyes told (Y/n) she was more than welcome.
"You can stay here as long as you like, make yourself comfortable."
When the team all got up and made their way down the stairs to get ready, Evan stooped over and gently cupped (Y/n)'s chin in his hand so he could tilt her head up towards him. His grin was soft and his eyes were dilated and flooded with warmth.
"I'll be back soon."
He pressed a searing kiss to her lips while his thumb stroked her chin and across the side of her cheek. He felt (Y/n)'s fingers feather across his neck and she hummed against his lips, watching him finally tear away from her so he could go out on the call. But his mind would stick around here, he would constantly be thinking about his girls while he was out on this call; desperate to come back to them.
***
(Y/n) tilted her head back and slouched down a little on the sofa to try and ease the tension in her back. It felt like someone was jabbing a knife into each column of her spine; there was a horrid ache going down the centre of her back. It was probably due to how she had been sitting and sleeping recently, but there were very little positions in which (Y/n) could get comfy.
She moved her hands to run up and down her bump while she stared blankly at the tv. An old tv show was playing on repeat on one of the channels so (Y/n) had clicked on it because she wasn't watching, but she knew the rest of the 118 who were loitering about in the annex liked the background noise the same as (Y/n) did. And watching the news was always draining when every news reel was of some kind of accident or trauma these days.
The desire to take a nap was getting more and more infectious, but (Y/n) didn't want to sleep here. Not in front of or around people, especially when these were the people Evan worked with on a daily basis.
She hoped he would be back soon. She cast her eyes around the annex as if praying he would suddenly appear out of nowhere and sit next to her.
(Y/n) found herself getting lost in thought while she traced designs and scribblings against her bump with the pad of her finger. But she looked up to the left when a shadow cast over her and she noticed one of the team standing beside the sofa.
It was Alex. (Y/n) didn't know him very well, but she knew him enough and she knew Evan had gone out for a drink once or twice with him in the last few months. He had a kind grin on his face and he pressed his hand on the back of the sofa to prop himself up.
"Hey Buckley, is your car the blue ford?"
"Yeah, why?" (Y/n) sat up straighter as her smile faded into a confused frown. She had driven down to the station earlier, despite how uncomfortable it was getting to drive now she was nine months pregnant. But it was preferable than walking all the way here, and (Y/n) certainly wasn't going to get the bus.
"The alarm's going off, want me to go lock it for you?"
"Oh, no I'll do it, thanks."
The warm smile stayed on Alex's face and he nodded his head at her before he turned and headed over to the pool table.
That was strange.
(Y/n)'s car wasn't tempermental, it wasn't the kind of car that would start beeping an alarm if someone walked past. Someone must have clipped her car when they left the car park or something had landed on it for the alarm to be going off. She highly doubted anyone would try and steal her car when it was parked at the back of the station in the car park reserved for the station team.
Moving her hands to the sofa, (Y/n) slowly pushed herself up to her feet and scoured her eyes around the station for her bag. Once she grabbed it, she made her way over to the stairs.
It was hard to try and move quickly when her body felt sluggish and weighed down, but she did her best to go fast once she was down the stairs. She turned to the left and headed past the locker room, down the corridor and out the side door into the car park.
Her eyes set on her car and she fished her keys out her pocket. Sure enough, it was (Y/n)'s car that was blaring out a deafening alarm (Y/n) was surprised she didn't hear up in the annex. Her car headlights were flashing in tandem with the horn and the noise made her grit her teeth.
God, she hoped no one had clipped her car; the last thing she needed was a dint or a scratch on her car or God forbid a mirror or her bumper hanging off. She would have to sweet talk Evan into fixing her car when he got back if anything was wrong.
When the alarm was turned off, (Y/n) stepped closer to inspect her car. Hopefully someone had just bumped into it on their way out and there was no lasting damage.
There didn't look like there was any marks, scratches or dents in her car and that made (Y/n) sigh.
But her relief was short-lived.
A hand clamped down around her mouth and an arm suddenly deadlocked around her waist. She could feel short nails scratching into her abdomen like they were trying to tear at her dress and her back crashed into a slender chest.
The keys in her hand clashed to the floor and her bag slid from her shoulder in panic as she waved her arms in desperation. Reaching her hands up, she tried to claw at the hand across her mouth and she let out whatever muffled scream she could manage. Her sense of balance became distorted when she was dragged backwards.
With another scream, (Y/n) closed her eyes in preparation and tried to thrust her head back as quickly as she could manage to headbutt whoever was trying to grab at her.
A violent yell errupted from the person behind her and the hand left her mouth in favour of cradling their nose which (Y/n) hoped she had broken.
She could see stars dancing in front of her eyes and her head swayed from left to right, causing her feet to stumble beneath her. She wasn't sure she would be able to keep herself upright, but the arm bound around her middle seemed to deadlock like a metal bar and before (Y/n) could try and stumble forwards, a cloth was forcefully rammed against her mouth.
She could taste the starched fabric and her teeth ached when the person's fingers pressed against her mouth so harshly that her upper lip cut against her tooth.
It was hard to remember what Evan had told her to do in panicked situations like this. (Y/n) tried to hold her breath, she knew she shouldn't- couldn't, breathe in whatever the cloth was soaked in, but she couldn't help it.
Her chest was aching, her lungs were desperate to circulate oxygen around her body and the baby was kicking and wriggling with bursts of adrenaline. Holding her breath wasn't an option (Y/n) had right now and she had no choice but to gasp and cough, breathing through the cloth that made her feel asthmatic with how little air she actually managed to breathe.
Both her hands reached up for the person's wrist and she dug her nails in until she could feel them pushing through a layer of skin, but it didn't help. (Y/n) was still dragged backwards, away from her car, away from the station door and she knew she was being pulled towards one of the cars parked up here.
"Don't play up!"
That sneering voice and the crude tone that was whispered in her ear made (Y/n) tense up.
Her shoulders pulled up towards her neck, her body began to shake and her legs felt like they were made out of clay that was starting to harden.
Tears burned in her eyes and she screamed as much as she could into the cloth and she writhed her body from left to right. Praying that the fire truck would roll into the station and someone would hear the commotion. Or that Evan would come out here and find her. She wanted Evan. She needed him.
He promised he would keep her safe and there was no other situation that (Y/n) needed him more than she did right now.
She knew who had hold of her.
Her heels scraped against the concrete and her head thrust back into his shoulder, but it didn't help. Her body was already starting to become sluggish and the sound of a car door opening didn't give (Y/n) enough adrenaline to fight whatever drugs she was forced to inhale.
Her body went limp when she was roughly forced into the passenger seat of a dark car and her head lolled against the driver's seat while her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
It was her ex-husband.
***
A horrible thumping like a repeating clunk of a hammer ignited in the back of (Y/n)'s head and caused a groan to tumble past her lips.
Her forehead felt cold. It was a struggle to open her eyes, so (Y/n) tried to focus on her other senses and see if she could get her body moving. Her temple was pressing against something smooth but frozen cold. Her hands were numb and bent at odd angles on her lap. Her chest felt tight. Her back was flooded with crippling nerves and sharp flickers of pain and there was a dull tightening feeling in her abdomen.
The only part of her body that didn't seem to be in agony was her legs. They weren't cramped her bent at strange angles and they weren't littered with bruises like the rest of her body seemed to feel.
When her eyes finally started to open and her vision cleared up, bolts of lightning struck her heart and sent waves of adrenaline sparking through her stomach.
She was leaning against a window. Scenery was passing by in a flash and (Y/n) realised the light vibration she could sense was the car heading down a seemingly deserted back road.
It took a lot of effort to push her head off the window and her temple was horribly numb; she must have been leaning on the window for a long time to make her forehead go cold like that. Her head lolled back against the headrest and she took a moment to take a few deep breaths, but it only ignited the tension that seemed to radiate in every crevace of her body.
She didn't want to look. Her head turned to the left, but (Y/n) really didn't want to look and prove her memory right. She didn't want to see who was driving the car she didn't recognise but when she looked, she felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
Caleb.
It was her ex-husband. The one she had sucessfully managed to avoid for over a year now.
This was the man (Y/n) had nightmares about, the one who frightened her, threatened her and physically hurt her when they had been together. This was the person she had to get a restraining order against. The man that had broken her wrist, three of her ribs and who made her need six stitches in her forearm when she fended him off and the knife he came at her with.
Compared to Evan, Caleb was like the devil reincarnated. (Y/n) felt like she had won the lottery when she got with Evan and marrying him had been the best part of her life. (Y/n) thought she was finished with this chapter of her life, with the torment, the abuse and fear Caleb inflicted.
He looked so stoic and calm right now.
Driving with one hand on the wheel, his left elbow resting on the door and his chin leaning on his hand. It made him look casual, as if they were old friends going on a road trip instead of ex-partners who shouldn't be within one hundred feet of one another.
"Caleb?" She wasn't sure what she wanted to say or what kind of conversation she was trying to strike up, but (Y/n) needed answers.
She needed to know what he thought he was doing and what his plan seemed to be. What good would kidnapping her do? It wasn't as if he could just take (Y/n) and hold her hostage. She wasn't an ornament or a pet or a piece of property, she was a person and she was never going to go along with this.
And Caleb couldn't kidnap her and think that (Y/n) would go along with him if he tried to make her play the happy wife again. She was re-married. She was pregnant with someone else's child. What was he planning to do by kidnapping her like this?
"About time you woke up." He spared a glance in her direction and the half-smile that quirked on his lips made (Y/n) shrink down in her seat.
When he looked back to the road, (Y/n) carefully moved her hands, trying to be slow so he wouldn't notice or see what she was doing. She cupped her stomach and tried to run her right hand along the side of her bump. Everything hurt, but (Y/n) didn't know how long she had been unconscious.
She had no idea if Caleb had hurt her by shoving her into the car or if he had intentionally or unintentionally hurt the baby when he took her. (Y/n) needed the baby to move, to kick or wriggle or just made some light movement so she knew her daughter was okay.
She tried to look around, but she had no idea what road they were on, what direction they were going in or where Caleb was trying to take her. Everything was uncertain.
She didn't have her phone. Her phone was in her bag, which she had dropped in the station car park. Maybe Caleb grabbed it and threw it somewhere in the car. Hopefully he left it. If it was still there on the floor, along with (Y/n)'s car keys, then Evan would undoubtedly find it. He would realise something bad had happened and he might be able to get to her or find her somehow.
"W-why're you doing this?"
Asking the question was almost as terrifying as hearing the answer. (Y/n) was used to not questioning him, she always tried to walk away, never argue, let him rant and rave if he wanted. And when he hurt her she tried to find a safe place, because fighting back didn't work.
But she had to ask now because she couldn't just sit and wait to find out what he was going to do and his reasons. If Caleb took her, he had to be prepared for some backlash, for (Y/n) to fight and question him and tell him how stupid and wrong he was being.
The way he glanced over at her made him look like a different person. His pupils were so small they looked like flecks of paint compared to the sage green of his eyes that looked more vile than ever. And the way Caleb snapped his head to the right to look at her made his hair fan across his temple and bounce in waves.
"You divorced me. You shacked up with that new guy, and now you're having his kid. You never wanted kids when we were together."
A twinge tore through (Y/n)'s stomach and she pressed her hands deeper into her bump while she dropped her head.
She never wanted kids with Caleb, there was a difference.
(Y/n) never said she didn't want children, not to anyone. They had always been part of her future, always something she wanted at some point in her life. And when she first got with Caleb, she thought they might have a family together. (Y/n) had a few doubts when she married him, but she went ahead with the wedding and told herself things would be okay.
When he lashed out at her, (Y/n) knew that was it. She knew she couldn't stay with him, that Caleb wasn't the right person to be with, and (Y/n) knew she could never have a child with him. That would tie her to him forever, it would bind them and she didn't want that. Someone as cruel and controlling as Caleb shouldn't have children.
But the moment (Y/n) got into a relationship with Evan, she knew it was okay. They both wanted kids and Evan was the ideal person to have a family with, he was sweet and funny and considerate and as loving as they got. And he adored kids. (Y/n) couldn't think of anyone else she would want to have a family with.
"I'm your husband-"
"No you're not. He is."
Somehow, it didn't feel safe to say Evan's name. She didn't want to hear her husband's name passing Caleb's lips, the thought was horrifying. Caleb was like an infection and (Y/n) needed to keep her husband as far away from him as possible, even the notion of him.
The way Caleb slammed his fist down on the steering wheel made the car jutter to the right and (Y/n) winced. She coiled in on herself, shrinking down in her seat as tears began to trace down the bridge of her nose. But the shock made the baby wriggle, and a small tendril of relief crept into (Y/n)'s aching system. At least the baby was moving; she was okay.
"Why would you fucking marry him? Why?" His tone made it seem like (Y/n) had gone and done something ludacris. As if she had married Evan after knowing him for only one day.
What right did Caleb have to judge or start asking those kind of questions? They were divorced, Caleb had eventually signed the agreement and finally severed himself from (Y/n). She was free to do whatever she liked with her life, to be with whoever she chose and that meant she could marry someone if she wanted. It had nothing to do with him.
"Why would I say no?" She countered with a shot of boldness in her veins and she glared over at him through narrowed eyes.
(Y/n) had been the happiest she had ever been in her life when Evan asked her to marry him. He was the best thing that had happened to her and there wasn't a single reason for (Y/n) to say no when he asked her. He was everything (Y/n) wanted; everything Caleb wasn't.
And (Y/n) had been four months pregnant when they got married. She had a tiny bump for the ceremony and Evan could barely keep his hands off her or her stomach the whole day.
"So that's it? You dump me, find the first guy you can and have his kid. How does that make any sense?"
"I love him." It didn't have to make sense to anyone else but her and Evan. They met, they fell in love and now they were having a baby together. That was the way it worked for most people, (Y/n) was no different simply because it didn't happen with the first person she married.
(Y/n) didn't like the way Caleb grunted and started to tap his fingers against the steering wheel in agitation. It made her feel like she was waiting for something, like she was expecting Caleb to fly off the handle at any moment. She wanted to reach out and hold onto the door handle in case he suddenly veered off the road and tried to crash or in case he sped up to see how far he could go before he either got caught or (Y/n) tried to intervene.
Her hands continued to trace her stomach that was more uncomfortable than ever while and she took to glancing out the window again. Maybe if she could spot a sign she could work out where they were or remember some kind of landmark or one of the junctions they might come up to. Just in case she managed to get away from Caleb at any point.
She had to. (Y/n) had to do whatever she could to get away from him. She had to keep her daughter safe. She wouldn't let him hurt her.
"Maybe that's not enough. I loved you, but you left me, so why should he get to have you?"
Those words were enough to spark a fire in (Y/n)'s stomach and her head snapped back to glare up at Caleb with wide eyes and parted lips. What was that supposed to mean? What was he going to do? How could his brain work in that twisted capacity and think that Evan couldn't love or be with (Y/n) just because she left Caleb a few years ago?
"Where are we going?" Her tone was more defined than earlier but she still sounded timid and afraid.
"You know we could have made things work, if you didn't get yourself pregnant-"
"Caleb I want his baby, I'm sorry you can't accept that. Where are you trying to take me?" She pushed up in her seat, despite the ache it caused in her back, and twisted to face him.
(Y/n)'s mind started to scream, coming up with millions of scenarios on how this would play out and where exactly he was trying to take her. She had no idea what he wanted. For all (Y/n) knew, Caleb could be doing this to wind up and frighten Evan, he could have kept her phone and was intending to call Evan and tell him who (Y/n) was with and that she was in danger.
He could intend to take (Y/n) somewhere and hold her hostage in some sick, twisted way of trying to get back into a relationship with her.
Or he could be planning to hurt her.
"Who said I'm taking you anywhere? You know, I watched you for a while, trying to find the best time to talk to you. But when I saw that," The way he pointed at her bump with a look of disgust made (Y/n)'s skin crawl. "I changed my mind. Since you abandoned me, I think it's time you did the same to him, so he knows what it feels like."
Panic was the only thing (Y/n) could feel and comprehend.
He had been watching her. Caleb had found her before today, he had been following her around and the notion made bile rise in the back of her throat. If she weren't pregnant (Y/n) got the impression he would of tried to make her stay with him, to delude her into another relationship with him. It seemed both a relief and a condemnation that she was pregnant.
At least Caleb wouldn't try and force her to be with him again, but being pregnant only cemented the fact that she was moving on from him, and he clearly wasn't going to let her do that. He might not have tried to hurt her- at least not badly- if she weren't pregnant. Now he wanted to hurt her, he wanted her to feel the betrayal he had no reasoning to feel and he wanted to hurt Evan for being with (Y/n).
If he had been watching them then Caleb would of seen that (Y/n) was everything to Evan. Her being hurt in any way would crush him and (Y/n) didn't dare think what Evan would do or how he would feel if something happened to their baby girl.
Short, panicked breaths tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips as she turned her head to look out the window. She didn't want to give Caleb the satisfaction of seeing her go into a panic attack.
It felt like stones were piling up in her lungs that weren't inflating anymore, they were just useless, heavy ornaments clogging up until (Y/n) was practically gasping for air. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go back to the station and be safe and happy surrounded by friends and people who wouldn't hurt her. People the opposite of Caleb.
She wanted to be back with Evan. Tears trickled down her face at the thought of her husband and she began to circle her wedding ring around her finger, seeing if focusing on the symbolic ring would calm her down in the slightest. It didn't work. All it did was make her think of Evan and how panicked this situation was going to make him once he found out. And (Y/n) wanted him, she wanted him to help her, to save her, protect her. To make everything okay.
Her vision blurred with the amount of tears she was shedding, but (Y/n) suddenly pressed her hand into her abdomen and held her breath when it felt like the tightening sensation in her stomach suddenly changed. It felt like a coil within her had snapped.
The sensation made her shoulders hunch and had her creasing forward, trying her best not to move and draw Caleb's attention to her.
When her eyes darted down, she could feel more tears running down her face and she held her breath to stop herself from screaming.
Her water broke.
The whole reason she had been at the station in the first place; so she wouldn't be on her own when she was so close to her due date. If she had stayed inside, if she let Alex turn the alarm off on her car, this wouldn't of happened. If she just stayed inside where she was safe.
Her water probably wouldn't have broken today if Caleb hadn't of snatched her and fought with her like he did. If he didn't frighten her and manhandle her into the car and panic her like this then (Y/n) wouldn't be in this situation.
Evan was supposed to be with her when her waters broke. He was supposed to be with her from the beginning and coach her through this experience. (Y/n) didn't want to be doing this alone. She didn't want to go through this without Evan. She needed him.
Clenching her legs together, (Y/n) moved the hem of her dress a bit further down her knees before she pressed her hand against her mouth to stop herself from crying. While her other hand stayed on her stomach like she was warning the baby not to squirm or give her any pains just yet.
She didn't want Caleb to notice. If he knew she was in labour he might do something rash. He might try and change his mind again and make (Y/n) stay with him. He could use this against Evan, he could torment Evan with this and hurt (Y/n). She wouldn't be able to get away from him once labour was in full swing and it would give Caleb much more opportunity to try and hurt her and the baby.
A bolt of panic surged through (Y/n)'s heart when Caleb suddenly took a sharp left turn. She hadn't noticed any signs. She had been too preoccupied in her thoughts to look for signs or landmarks.
She could feel herself beginning to shake when he drove down a small, rather bumpy road. But the way he leaned forward into the wheel and glanced around made (Y/n)'s fear multiply.
He didn't know where they were.
He hadn't driven with a set goal in mind, he had just been driving to get (Y/n) as far away from home, from Evan, as possible. He was trying to find somewhere deserted and from the looks of it, he had found just the right spot. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
(Y/n) moved her hand to press against the door to steady herself when Caleb drove down a narrow road filled with pot holes and broken concrete and gravel. He was slowing down. She debated whether it was worth trying to open the door, but throwing herself out of a moving car, even one going as slow as this, was going to have repercussions.
She could injure herself and not be fit enough to run away. Caleb could reverse and hit her. He could get out and throw her in the trunk or attack her out here in the open. Waiting for his next move was going to be her best bet.
When he pulled up and turned off the engine, (Y/n) slowly moved her right hand to reach for the door handle while she leaned forward and kept her eyes on Caleb. He grabbed the keys and tucked them into his pocket, presumably so (Y/n) couldn't take them in a desperate attempt to flee.
She wondered what he was looking for when he rummaged around in his door pocket, but when he turned to face her, brandishing a kitchen knife, her blood ran cold.
He looked crazed, like a man possessed and he pointed the knife so close to her that the end was practically touching her chest.
"Get out, no sudden moves."
(Y/n) found herself nodding even though she didn't need to. She wasn't making a break for it in her state and there wasn't anywhere she could go. Part of her wished Caleb would have gotten out the car first. She could have turned on the indoor locks and stayed safe in the car with him on the outside if he got out first.
She opened the door and slowly climbed out, noticing Caleb getting out at the same time to make sure she didn't run off. And she was relieved he hadn't noticed her waters had broken. She couldn't let him find that out.
She leaned her weight against the bonnet of the car, her wide eyes following Caleb as he moved to stand in front of her.
He was still sneering down at her stomach like he thought the baby was some kind of burden, like they had ruined everything. The distaste in his eyes made (Y/n) wrap an arm protectively around her bump and she leaned back but it didn't do her any good.
Caleb's free hand suddenly knitted into her hair and he yanked her closer causing a yelp to fly past her lips.
She struggled, pulling back until the knife was pressed beneath her chin causing her to tip her head back to relieve the pressure and prevent the knife from plunging into her throat.
"Don't like that, huh?" He sneered, leaning close enough that (Y/n) could feel his breath fanning against her cheek. "Let's make that new hubby of yours feel the way I did when you left me. He can lose both of you."
A sob bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she tried again to lean away from him, but he simply knitted his hands tighter into her hair and pulled. The action caused the jagged edge of the knife to scrape against her throat. A flesh wound, barely enough to draw blood, but enough to bring back memories and make (Y/n) flinch and scream.
He'd come at her with a knife once before. When (Y/n) told him she was leaving and packed her bags. She had to pin her arms in front of her face in defence and he slashed the knife down her forearm enough to need stitches.
She didn't want anymore scars from him.
"No! You d-don't get to do this." (Y/n) raised her arms in defence and tried to bend his wrist back to get the knife away from her. She couldn't get any injuries; she couldn't risk her baby getting hurt.
When the knife aimed dangerously close to her stomach and Caleb yanked her hair to pull her head back, (Y/n) thrust her elbow up towards his face. She wanted to hit his nose, she had managed to catch his nose earlier and it would make his eyes water and momentarily phase him. But she clocked his chin instead. It was still a good movement, his head snapped back and he audibly choked and spluttered.
It gave (Y/n) the momentum she needed to bash her arm into his elbow and pull away from him. He yanked on her hair, but not enough to pull her back and she broke away from him, using the time to pelt away across the broken gravelly road as fast as she could.
The twinges in her abdomen were distant and dull compared to the pounding of her heart and the panic fuelling her whole body. She knew this wasn't going to do her or the baby any good, but she had to move as fast as possible and get away from him. She had to get somewhere safe.
"You can't outrun me, (Y/n)! Not in that state." His words were sinister and followed her like a shadow.
Her breaths started to become deep and panting as she willed her numb legs to go faster.
"He can't have you!"
She had to get away. That was the only thought playing on (Y/n)'s mind, that she had to keep her daughter safe by any means necessary. But when a horrible pain that she guessed was a contraction tore through her abdomen, (Y/n)'s steps faltered. She stopped herself from collapsing to her knees by creasing forward and pressing one hand to her stomach as she tried to keep moving.
The feeling of a blade slashing against her dress made (Y/n) scream and bow her head. She wasn't sure whether the knife managed to scratch through her dress and into her upper back, but she knew it had cut through the thin material of her dress right between her shoulder blades.
She wasn't sure what threat Caleb tried to shout at her, but she felt the knife stab into the back of her left forearm just above her elbow. The adrenaline coursing through (Y/n)'s veins made it impossible to tell whether the wound was deep or superficial, but (Y/n) knew she could feel blood trickling down her arm that she coiled into her chest as she cried out.
The wound was enough to slow down her already faltering pace and when Caleb's hand knitted in her hair, he used it as leverage to pull her back towards him. His chest pressed down into her back and their combined weight tumbled forward as both their legs bent and surged them down to the floor.
A loud, piercing scream left (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to fall on her side rather than her front, but it was hard to twist when Caleb was falling with her.
She crashed onto her left side, pinning her arm between her and the floor which sent spasms jolting through her injured arm, all the way down to her chest.
"No!" She wasn't sure what she was protesting or trying to splutter, but (Y/n) caged her arms over her stomach to protect the baby as Caleb moved.
The fall didn't seem to phase him at all for he pushed up onto his knees with horrible, grunting breaths and a heaving chest that made him look like he was about to transform into the Hulk right before her eyes. She did her best to sit up but the wind had been knocked out of her and left her gasping for breath and moving made her head spin and loll backwards.
She had to force her arms to stop trembling and stay deadlocked around her waist to try and help herself. She wasn't sure if that fall would have done something to hurt the baby. If the baby wasn't okay or something went wrong, (Y/n) wasn't in a very good situation for this. She was in the middle of nowhere with her crazed ex and no way of escaping or finding help. And being in labour made this situation a whole lot worse.
"He's not having you." Each word was panted and grunted as Caleb wiped his sleeve across his jaw that he clicked into place. And he seemed to delight in the way (Y/n) shivered when he pointed the knife at her stomach. "Either of you."
Caleb moved fast. He moved so fast that (Y/n) feared blinking and seeing him vanish before her eyes. He pushed forward and jolted down towards her and it was clear by the manic look in his eyes that were focused on her stomach that he wanted to hurt the baby.
Moving her arms and legs at the same time was a hard task but (Y/n) didn't know what else to do. She couldn't shuffle back, she couldn't find anything to hand to counter his attack and hit him with. All she could do was keep her arms in front of her bump and reel her knees up.
Being stabbed in the legs or arms was much more preferable than the stomach.
The knife sliced horizontally across her right knee and there was enough pain there for (Y/n) to know that it was more than just superficial. The pain blistered like she had knelt on hot coals but it was hard to focus on that pain when the tightening contractions in her stomach were worse.
A slurr of curse words rambled past Caleb's lips as (Y/n) lifted her leg and rammed her foot into his crotch fast and harsh enough to make her toes curl and her foot go numb with shock.
(Y/n) pushed forward and screamed, forcing her arms out in front of her to thrust Caleb away from her. She couldn't sit and let him slice her to pieces and hack away at her. She had to move.
But as Caleb surged forward and (Y/n) smacked her arms out at him again, their gazes interlocked and both of them seemed to gasp in horror. Panic reflected on both their faces, their expressions mirrored and stricken but it was Caleb's jaw that went slack while (Y/n)'s lips wobbled and tears began to trickle down her face again.
Her body started to shake as she shuffled backwards on her bum, scraping her shoes into the floor to get away from Caleb.
The only place (Y/n) could look was down at Caleb's hands that were shakily pinning against his stomach.
She didn't mean to.
It was an accident. It was either her or him, and she couldn't let him hurt her baby.
Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face and she went to press her hand to her mouth but stopped when her eyes caught on the specks of blood coating her palm. She had thrust her hands at Caleb and accidentally thrust the knife into his stomach.
But wasn't that exactly what Caleb had been trying to do to her? If she didn't hurt and subdue him first, it would be the knife in her own stomach and her daughter's life lost. He wouldn't stop until he killed them both and (Y/n) had to do something. She didn't have a choice; Caleb made sure of that.
Gasps and strangled sounds left Caleb's lips as he hunched over until his chest was creased towards his knees like he was praying to any God that would listen to his pathetic pleas.
Spit bubbled past his lips and his face started to turn an ungodly shade of red as the veins in his neck started to pop out and become prominent. He didn't dare move his hands away from his stomach where he was cradling the knife that was imbedded into his skin up to the handle. They both knew if he tried to remove it he would bleed out. He was cradling it so (Y/n) didn't try and take it out.
She wanted to. She wanted to crawl over there and yank that knife out as slowly as possible and watch him bleed out like a spilled pitcher of milk. But (Y/n) couldn't do that. It wasn't in her nature to be cruel, not in the way it was in Caleb's own nature, and she would undoubtedly get reprimanded for that.
When Caleb looked up at her, all (Y/n) could see was pure evil pooling in those dark eyes that were blown wide like he was having a stroke.
(Y/n) wasn't sure where the courage came from, but she started to crawl towards him. He was subdued, he wasn't going to lunge at her when he could barely lean up on his thighs and Caleb wasn't going to remove the knife to weaponize it again when he knew he would bleed out.
It was safe to approach. And it was clear in Caleb's tortured, twisted expression that he didn't know her intentions. He had no idea why she was getting closer to him or what she was going to do.
(Y/n) couldn't stop the silent sobs from wracking her chest and her body shook as she knelt in front of Caleb.
One bloodied hand reached out and clamped down on her upper arm and (Y/n) winced, coiling in on herself as she tried to ignore the touch. It wouldn't be there for long. Her eyes stayed on Caleb, keeping his attention on her face and she leaned closer like she was about to sneer something horrid in his face.
He didn't see her right hand slither out beside them to grab a loose slab of concrete from the gravel road they had been running on.
He didn't see it when (Y/n) thrust the lump of concrete down on his head so hard and fast that the noise sounded like a bullet whipping through the air.
A tremendous amount of blood pooled beneath Caleb's hair and trickled down the side of his head, slithering down his neck like a tap had been turned on full. His body slumped to the left and he hit the gravel with a thud, his head bent back oddly and his arms bent inwards with his hands loosely cradling his stomach.
The concrete dropped from (Y/n)'s hand and clashed against Caleb's thigh and a horrible trembling set in (Y/n)'s bones until she was sobbing and rattling back and forth.
He couldn't follow her now. He couldn't get her if she left now and left him behind in the dirt. But she couldn't drive. (Y/n) didn't know where his keys were, she was sure he had tossed them somewhere and she couldn't drive while she was in labour and undoubtedly lost.
Her trembling hands traced over Caleb's thighs and she grimaced as she dug her hand into his back pocket and fished out his phone.
She had to call for help.
Once the phone was in her hand, (Y/n) took a second to stare down at him. He finally looked peaceful. He finally looked calm and serene, even with blood pouring down the side of his face and turning his white shirt into a blood bath of crimson.
"I hate you." The words sneered past her lips along with a bubbling cry. "I hope you die."
As if fearing he would suddenly rise up and lunge, (Y/n) inched backwards as soon as the words left her lips.
Caleb had no right to do what he did to her, at any point in their past relationship or right now. He didn't have the right to try and hurt her, to protest when she left him and try to harm her into getting back together with him. He didn't have a right to stalk her and watch her and then decide he was going to kidnap her out of spite because (Y/n) had moved on with her life.
(Y/n) had no idea if his wound was fatal or how long he would last out here, unconscious, with a knife in his stomach. And she didn't know whether anyone still used this discreet road or if anyone would find him today. No one might come down here. They might not find him until days later if (Y/n) didn't alert anyone that her tormenter was laid here unconscious.
She hoped he wouldn't wake up. He could stay here and bleed out until help eventually came to find him. He didn't deserve a speedy rescue.
One hand pressed down into the gravel to push herself up and the other cradled her stomach that was feeling heavier by the minute. Every part of her body ached when she limped away from Caleb's unconscious body. She tried to aim in the opposite direction to the car, she had to try and get as far away from Caleb as possible and back track down this road to find help.
She needed somewhere safe to be until she could get someone to help her, to find her. Being here in the middle of nowhere on the road wasn't likely to help (Y/n) much, especially not if Caleb woke up soon.
Blood was still trickling down her left arm. Her right knee was aching and pulsing with each step she took and she had to stop to gasp for breath when a horrid contraction felt like her stomach was set on fire. God, she hoped the baby was okay. She hoped Evan would be able to get to her soon. She prayed everything would turn out okay.
Once she deemed herself far enough away from Caleb, (Y/n) slumped down to her knees on the side of the road. She doubled forward, curving her right arm around her waist to cradle her aching stomach while she tried to look through Caleb's phone.
She didn't bother trying to remember or guess his password, she clicked on the emergency button and dialled the only safe number she could in this situation.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I- I need Maddie Buckley, please." The air of desperation in (Y/n)'s voice and the sob at the end of her words must have made the dispatcher feel sorry for her because she heard the woman gasp and agree instantly.
(Y/n) needed her sister in law. She had to have someone she knew and trusted on the other end of the line. Someone who could and instantly would contact Evan once (Y/n) explained what was going on.
"Hello, this is Maddie?" There was apprehension in her voice. It wasn't often that people rang the help line and asked to speak to a specific dispatcher, much less to speak to Maddie herself. She couldn't think of a time when someone had asked for her or refused to speak to anyone except her.
"Maddie! P… please, help me."
"(Y/n)? What's wrong, where are you honey?"
Where was she? Looking around didn't give (Y/n) much indication, there were no road signs or street names. No houses with names or numbers on them. No passing cars or the distant sound of a motorway nearby. There was nothing except the crackling 911 line (Y/n) was dialling out to.
"I d- I don't know." Her voice came out in a broken wail and she could feel her heartbeat increasing, pulsing blood throughout her system in panic. She had no idea where she was.
"What's happened?"
Maddie was her only link to the rest of the world. The thought made her sob harder and she bound her arm around her waist, creasing forward until her bump was pressing down into her thighs. Her eyes snapped closed but all she could think and see behind her eyes was Evan.
Why wasn't he here? Why did she go out the station and into the car park? Why couldn't someone have heard her scream or noticed the struggle and stopped Caleb before he took her? Why was she all alone?
"I'm in labour… t-the baby's coming."
#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley#911 imagine#imagine#pregnant! reader#evan buckley imagine#buck x reader#buck imagine#bobby nash#eddie diaz#hen wilson#he can't have you
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Under the Stars | LN4
ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ After months of pinning after Y/N, Lando finally brings her to Monaco. He takes her on a yacht, where things escalate.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
ᯓᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 3.2k
ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content
"You’re scared of me," Lando said, his voice low, a teasing smirk curling the corner of his lips as he leaned against the yacht’s railing. The moonlight shimmered on the water below, casting a soft glow on his face. His eyes never left hers.
"Scared? Of you?" Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to shield herself from the weight of his gaze. But she was lying. Her heart raced, her cheeks burning despite the cool Mediterranean breeze. She turned away, pretending to admire the horizon. "That’s ridiculous."
"Is it?" He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne—something musky and intoxicating. "Because every time I get close, you run. Every time I say something real, you deflect. You’re scared, Y/n. Scared of what this could be."
She hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tighter. He wasn’t wrong. But admitting that felt like surrendering a part of herself she wasn’t ready to give up. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," she muttered, though her voice lacked conviction.
"Then tell me I’m wrong." His tone softened, but there was an edge to it—a challenge. He moved closer still, until his chest was almost brushing against her back. She could feel his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Tell me you don’t feel it too."
---
It had started weeks ago, when Lando had casually mentioned his Monaco apartment during one of their late-night conversations. They’d been texting back and forth for months, ever since they met through a mutual friend at a gathering in London. Lando had been relentless in his pursuit of her, always finding excuses to see her, to talk to her, to make her laugh. And Y/n, despite her best efforts, found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn’t explain.
"I’ve got this place in Monaco," he’d said one night, his voice smooth and inviting over the phone. "You should come visit. I’ll show you around."
She’d laughed it off, thinking it was just another one of his jokes. But then he’d sent her a first-class ticket to Nice, along with a message that read: No excuses. Be there.
And now here she was, standing on a luxury yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean, with Lando Norris himself standing far too close for comfort.
---
The tension between them was palpable, crackling in the air like electricity. Y/n turned to face him, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. "Why do you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why do you keep pushing?"
"Because I see you," he said simply, his eyes boring into hers. "I see all the walls you’ve built, all the armor you wear. And I want to break through it. I want you, Y/n. The real you."
Her breath hitched. God, why did he have to say things like that? It felt like he was peeling back layers of her soul, exposing parts of herself she didn’t even recognize. "You think you can just waltz in and fix me?" she shot back, though her voice wavered. "I’m not some broken thing that needs saving, Lando."
"I don’t want to fix you," he said firmly, taking another step closer until there was barely any space left between them. "I just want you. All of you. The good, the bad, the messy. Everything."
Her resolve wavered. She wanted to believe him, to let herself fall into the safety of his words. But fear held her back—fear of being vulnerable, of getting hurt. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
"Maybe not," he admitted, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent. "But I’m willing to find out. Are you?"
She stared up at him, her mind racing. This was Lando Norris, the man who had somehow managed to weave his way into her life and under her skin. The man who looked at her like she was the only person in the room. The man who made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had.
Before she could stop herself, she reached up and kissed him.
It was tentative at first, a soft brush of her lips against his. But then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened. Heat surged through her, igniting every nerve in her body. His lips were warm, insistent, and she melted into him, losing herself in the sensation.
When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Lando rested his forehead against hers. "Took you long enough," he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
"Shut up," she shot back, but there was no bite to her words. She could feel the smile spreading across her face, even as her heart continued to race.
Lando chuckled, his hands still resting on her hips. "Admit it," he teased. "You’ve been wanting to do that for a while."
"Maybe," she conceded, her cheeks flushing. "But don’t let it go to your head."
"Too late," he said, his grin widening. "Now let’s see if I can’t convince you to stay a little longer."
Y/n raised an eyebrow, her feigned annoyance doing nothing to hide the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. "Oh, really? And how do you plan on doing that?"
Lando’s smile turned wicked, his hands sliding up her sides. "Let’s just say I have a few ideas..."
Lando’s hands lingered on her hips, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist as he leaned in closer. The moonlight bathed them both, casting a soft glow over the yacht’s deck. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm and teasing. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, sending shivers down her spine.
Y/n’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to protest, to push him away and retreat into the safety of her own walls, but something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the world—made it impossible. “Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
He didn’t wait for her to say more. His lips found hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to savor her. Y/n’s hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, her body pressing against his as the kiss deepened. Lando’s tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing them open, and she let him in with a soft moan.
His hands moved to the zipper of her dress, pulling it down with agonizing slowness. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but a pair of black lace panties. Lando stepped back, his eyes raking over her body with an intensity that made her skin burn. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “You’re perfect.”
Y/n’s cheeks flushed, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Lando caught her wrists, pinning them gently at her sides. “Don’t,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with hers. “Let me look at you.”
She swallowed hard, her body trembling under his scrutiny. Lando’s hands slid up her arms, his touch feather-light, before cupping her face. He kissed her again, this time with more urgency, his tongue tangling with hers as he backed her toward one of the plush couches on the deck. When the back of her knees hit the edge, he pushed her down gently until she was lying beneath him.
Lando’s lips left hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and across her collarbone. His hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her flesh like he was committing it to memory. He nipped at her shoulder, eliciting a gasp from Y/n, before soothing the spot with his tongue.
Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as he kissed his way lower. His lips closed around one nipple, sucking and teasing it until it hardened under his mouth. Y/n arched into him, a moan escaping her lips as he switched his attention to the other breast, lavishing it with the same treatment.
“Lando…” she whimpered, her voice heavy with need.
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. “I want to taste all of you,” he said, his voice rough. Without waiting for a response, he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them off, leaving her completely exposed.
The cool night air brushed against her heated skin, making her shudder. Lando knelt between her legs, spreading them wider as he leaned down to press a kiss to her inner thigh. Y/n’s breath hitched, her hips lifting involuntarily as his lips moved higher, nibbling and kissing their way toward her core.
When his tongue finally touched her, she cried out, her hands gripping the cushions beneath her. Lando groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her sensitive flesh. He licked her slowly, savoring her taste as if she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever encountered.
“Jesus, Y/n,” he muttered, his voice muffled against her. “You taste incredible.”
She couldn’t respond, her mind too consumed by the sensation of his tongue swirling around her clit. His hands held her hips firmly in place as he worked her over, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, flickering movements that had her writhing beneath him.
“Lando,” she gasped, her back arching off the couch. “Please… don’t stop…”
He didn’t. Instead, he increased the pressure, his tongue delving deeper as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. One hand slipped away from her hip, sliding up her stomach to palm her breast, tweaking her nipple in time with the rhythm of his tongue.
Y/n’s thighs tightened around him, her body trembling as the pleasure built. She was so close, right on the brink, when Lando unexpectedly pulled away. She groaned in frustration, her hips lifting in search of his mouth again.
Lando chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her wet flesh. “Beg for it,” he demanded, his tone commanding yet playful.
“Lando!” she protested, her voice a mix of frustration and desperation. “Don’t be such a tease—”
But he interrupted her with another slow lick, his tongue dragging through her folds before circling her clit once more. “Then beg,” he repeated, his eyes meeting hers with a challenge.
Y/n bit her lip, her pride warring with her need. Finally, she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please… I need you.”
That was all he needed to hear. Lando buried his face between her legs again, his tongue working her relentlessly until she came apart with a cry, her body convulsing with pleasure. He didn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she was trembling and oversensitive, her hands pushing weakly at his shoulders.
When he finally pulled away, he pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh before crawling up her body. His lips crashed onto hers, letting her taste herself on his tongue. “You’re mine,” he growled, his voice possessive.
Y/n’s breath was still ragged, her body humming with the aftershocks of her climax as Lando hovered above her. His lips were swollen from kissing her, his eyes dark and hungry. She could see the unspoken desire in them, raw and unmistakable. He wanted her—all of her. And she wanted him just as much.
“Let me,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her hands drifted down his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin. Her fingers grazed the waistband of his shorts, her intention clear. “Let me…” she started again, but he caught her wrist before she could go any further.
“No.” The word was firm, almost a growl, but his touch was gentle as he lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I don’t want you to. Not yet.”
She blinked up at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Why?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves lapping against the yacht. “I want to make you feel good too.”
Lando shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned down to brush his nose against hers. “You already do,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “Every time I look at you, every time I touch you, you make me feel more than anyone ever has. But right now, all I need is to be inside you. I can’t wait any longer.”
Her heart stuttered at his words, the intensity in his voice sending shivers down her spine. She opened her mouth to argue, to insist on giving him pleasure first, but he silenced her with a kiss—slow and deep, his tongue coaxing hers into submission. When he pulled away, she was breathless, her mind foggy with need.
“Trust me,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I know what we both need.”
Y/n nodded, her resistance melting away as he reached for the hem of his shorts, tugging them down in one swift motion. Her breath hitched when she saw him—hard and throbbing, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. He positioned himself between her legs, his hands gripping her hips as he guided himself to her entrance.
The first press of him against her made her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders. He paused, his eyes locking onto hers, searching for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he pushed forward, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her.
“Oh God…” Y/n moaned, her head falling back against the cushions as she adjusted to the sensation of him filling her completely. It was overwhelming, the way he stretched her, the way he fit her so perfectly. She had never felt anything like it.
Lando groaned, a low, guttural sound that sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. “Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. “You feel… incredible.”
He didn’t move right away, letting her adjust as he kissed her softly, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve as if memorizing her. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss filled with adoration.
When he finally began to move, it was slow—agonizingly so. He pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in, each thrust measured and deliberate. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her hands clutching at his back as he set a pace that was maddeningly unhurried.
“Lando…” she whimpered, her hips lifting to meet his as desperation began to build inside her. She needed more—needed him—but he refused to give in, his movements remaining steady and controlled.
His lips found hers again, swallowing her moans as he deepened the kiss. “Patience, love,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with restraint. Step by step, let your body fucking adapt to mine. “I want to savour this. I want to savour you.”
Y/n couldn’t help but whimper, her nails scraping lightly against his back as she tried to pull him closer. “But I need… more…” she pleaded, her voice breaking on the last word.
Lando chuckled darkly, the sound sending a thrill through her. “Do you now?” he teased, nipping at her lower lip. “What do you need, darling? Tell me.”
She hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing at the question. But the way he looked at her—so intense, so utterly focused on her—made it impossible to hold back. “I need… you,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “All of you.”
A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned down to kiss her again, this time with more urgency. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips rolling against hers in a way that made her cry out. “Because you have me. You’ve always had me.”
His rhythm shifted slightly, still slow but deeper, each stroke hitting a spot inside her that had her seeing stars. Y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him even closer as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within her.
Lando’s lips left hers, trailing down her neck to her collarbone. He sucked lightly at the sensitive skin, leaving a mark that would remind her of this moment long after it was over. His hands moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened under his touch.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as he gazed down at her. “Absolutely perfect.”
Y/n blushed, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the sensations he was creating. “Don’t stop,” she begged, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Never,” he promised, his voice firm as he continued to move inside her, slow and steady. His lips found hers again, their breaths mingling as he kissed her deeply. “I’ll never stop making you feel this good.”
Her orgasm built slowly, creeping up on her like the tide. With every thrust, every kiss, every whispered word, she felt herself slipping closer and closer to the edge. And when she finally fell, it was with his name on her lips, her body trembling with the force of it.
Lando held her through it, his own release following soon after. He buried his face in her neck, muffling his groan as he spilled inside her, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, their bodies entwined as they came down from their high. Y/n’s heart was pounding, her limbs heavy with exhaustion, but she had never felt more content.
Lando pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his arms tightening around her. The yacht rocked gently beneath them, the stars above casting a silvery glow over their tangled bodies. He tilted his head back, his gaze drifting upward to the vast expanse of sky. “Never had sex under the stars before,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion.
His fingers traced lazy patterns along her spine, sending shivers through her. Y/n turned her head slightly, following his gaze. The night was endless, the stars shimmering like scattered diamonds. She felt small, yet impossibly connected to him in that moment. “Neither have I,” she admitted softly, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves.
His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile as he looked back at her. “Good.” His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Now it’s just ours.” She swallowed, her heart swelling at the tenderness in his eyes.
“Stay,” he whispered, his voice thick with something deeper than desire. “Stay with me the whole weekend. Please.” Her breath caught, her chest tightening at the raw vulnerability in his words. She nodded, her fingers curling into the warmth of his chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her.
Lando exhaled, a quiet sound of relief, and pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. The stars watched silently as they clung to each other, the night wrapping them in its embrace.
#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula one#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula one x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#ln4
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ㅤ❝ I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY AND ONCE A WEEK FOR YOU ❞
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpairing. milf!abby x mechanic!reader
masterlist. warnings. 18+, sub!abby, dom!reader, milf!abby, mechanic!reader, dirty talk (a lot of it, oops), fingering, strap usage, abby just being a needy brat, breeding kink, there’s probably more a/n. merry christmas gays <3 this is a small installation to the milf!abby au me and @vifilms have created. if it’s a little confusing on the jump, don’t worry, you’ll get more parts explaining their relationship before or whatever soon. happy holidays, and if you don’t celebrate it, i hope you all have a blessed day either way <3
milf!abby who doesn’t hesitate to text you when it comes down to her friends having a small get-together, her first instinct was to ask you to come with her, and she was a little too giddy and excited when you replied with ‘of course, more time to spend with a pretty lady’ what she would never admit was that she spent an ungodly amount of minutes looking at your reply, apples of her cheeks crimson red before she replied with her own ‘sounds good, can’t wait to see you’ unaware that on the other side of town, you were already rummaging around in your closet, trying to find something perfect enough, that will go with whatever she picks, to wear. apart from ripped jeans, t-shirts, and a few jackets, you were at a loss. confused on what to wear to a small party with people who would dress up a little more … sophisticated-like. the bright colors, the pretty pearls. that wasn’t you. you were content with your hoodies, your jeans, your button-up shirts, and sweatpants. not what they love to wear.
milf!abby can’t focus the second you walk through the door that same night, dressed in a pair of jeans, heavy boots paired with a white shirt, and a jacket. she’s seen you in nothing but a tank top, oil and grease covering your arms, and even then you looked hot working on her car every day, you looked ethereal and more handsome tonight. abby doesn’t know how to react when she finds you talking to some of her friends, offering to help if they need it, seconds later. she thinks it’s kind that you are offering even though you were a guest. one of the many things she adores about you. always wanting to help.
milf!abby drags you away from the party not even 15 minutes later. her hands cupping your face, while yours are instantly pulling down the dress she was wearing, down over her shoulders, and bunching it around her hips as you cup both her tits and squeeze them in the palm of your hands, the second she pulls you into the bathroom. the soft sounds of her whines and whimpers fill the echoed room while you simply grin against her neck, pinching and pulling at her hard pebbled nipples. her head rests against the bathroom door, the whimpers tumbling from her shamelessly has you growling into her neck and slipping your leg between her thigh. a sinister grin appearing on your lips at her sudden gasp, wrapping her arm around your neck and holding you to her. “i bet if i put my hand up your dress right now, you’re gonna be soaked, hm?” you muttered against her flushed skin. “don’t even have to tell me, i know.” your mocking words had abby’s heart pounding in her chest, cunt clenching around nothing and cheeks flushed while she nods desperately. “love your tits so much, so fuckin’ pretty”
milf!abby’s eyes roll back in her head when you’re placing your hand over her mouth, muffling the sounds thats dripping from between her cherry red swollen lips as you bury your fingers deep in her cunt, groaning softly under your breath at the way she clenches around you tightly. “you know how much i love to hear you, but you gotta be quiet f’me, sweetheart, hm?” you coo, kissing away the tears streaking her face. “i know you can do it, don’t wanna get caught, do you?”
“m’sorry, just feels s’good.” abby whimpered against your hand, voice hitching when the palm of your hand rubbed against her neglected clit. fingers clutching at your crumpled shirt, knuckles white with the sheer iron grip she has on you. it makes you laugh, making her whine with a deeper blush knowing just how fucking needy she is. needy for you to touch her, making a mess of her, and have her weak in the knees. you only have to look at her, and she’s begging for you.
“yeah, i can tell, practically soaking my hand.”
that just makes abby clench around you harder.
milf!abby clings to you for dear life and whimpers loudly into your neck when she gushes all over your fingers minutes later, slick running down the inners of her thigh and another whimper is ripped from her throat as you gently pull your fingers out of her cunt, bringing those fingers straight to your mouth with a grin. her pupils dilate more, if that’s even possible when you wrap your lips around them and suck. the moan you let out at the taste of her, has her rubbing her thighs together again. an action that you don’t miss. “taste just as sweet as last night, sweetheart.” you hummed with a cheeky grin, leaned forward, and kissed the side of her mouth. laughing at her whine. “patience, baby. just a little longer, and i promise, you can have my cock later.”
milf!abby is pathetic and whiny when you’ve finally got her bent over the sink, dress still bunched over her hips, panties in your back pocket for a keepsake, and she can’t hold back on those sounds you love to hear so much when your cock is deep inside her cunt. stretching her out perfectly, like her pussy was made for you. you could tell she was struggling to keep it down, not wanting her friends to hear. you on the other hand, were crazy. you wouldn’t care at all if they heard the pretty sounds you were pulling from her with each thrust of your hips.
“wish i could feel you” you groaned, hands iron grip on her hips, pulling her back and down on your cock. your eyes dropping to shamelessly watching the way her cunt practically sucks your strap back inside of her. only for your eyes to snap up at the soft whine to find abby with her head buried in the bend of her elbow, trying to muffle her sounds. “lemme hear you, baby, yeah?” you cooed, tangling your fingers into her soft blonde locks and pulled her head back carefully. “yeah, you look so pretty like this” you smirked at her through the mirror. “look so sexy while i split you open on my cock.”
abby wasn’t sure whether to look at you or herself. her hair was disheveled, her light makeup ruined, cheeks flushed, hips bruised due to your grip, and her lips all red and swollen. if you both walked out of the bathroom now, everyone would know. they would all know what happened, and maybe that excites abby a little because her cunt clenches around your cock, gasps, and jolts against the mirror when you’re removing your hand from her hip, to reach down between her legs and rub light circles on her clit. “just needed to have all your worries and thoughts fucked out that pretty head of yours hm? don’t worry, sweetheart, m’gonna fuck you until you can barely remember your own name.”
the blonde opens her mouth to reply, brain completely empty and cheeks flushed darker red if that’s even possible, but her attempt at trying to reply to your words fail when you angle your hips just perfectly, your cock is deliciously rubbing that spot deep inside her and abby’s hand is quick to slip between her legs and rub circles on her clit with you. “fuck, fuck, right there, please please—” her voice breaks and her head slumps against her mirror, her breath fogging up the glass. “i need—”
“what do you need, hm baby? need me to fuck you until you can’t walk? mark you up? show everyone you’re mine?” you listed, groaning against her neck and fucking her hard, rubbing her clit faster. “need me to fill you up, s’that what you need? fill you up and make you a mama?”
“yes! yes yes, please—” abby’s chokes out, a little too late to warn you or barely registers a warning as her body tenses beneath you and gushes over your cock with a loud gasped whimper that has you putting your mouth over her mouth, not wanting her friends to know what was happening, even if it was something you so badly wanted deep down. “oh—” she sighs against your hand, eyes fluttering closed again as you slowly fuck her through her orgasm.
“me saying i wanna make you a mama did it for you, huh?” you laughed against her ear, your breath fanning her skin hotly as you ran your nose up and down her neck. enjoying the way she lifts her head up and looks at you through the mirror. completely fucked out. only for you to groan softly when she’s pushing back against you with a whine. “sweetheart,”
“wanna make you cum”
“later, you can do whatever you want”
milf!abby can’t avoid the grins and smirks her friends give her when you both finally make your way back downstairs to find them in the kitchen. they wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the fact that abby was patting down her hair, fixing her dress. or you, in all your glory, were butting up your shirt, not caring at all that they were grinning your way. “have fun, abby?” one teased, eyeing up the marks on her neck. “it looks like you guys both had a lot of fun”
glaring at her friend, abby simply huffed, wrapped her arm around yours and scowled. “stop it!” she mumbled, trying to hide the obvious blush coating her face. while you, being a shit, were just laughing softly against her head. “don’t encourage them!”
“m’not doing anything” you grinned, hand slipping down to her lower back and kissing behind her ear. a place you know that always has her melting in your hands. “you don’t have to tell me you had fun, the sounds you were making are enough for me to know, sweetheart.” you whispered in her ear before walking away into the kitchen. that stupid fucking smirk, a smirk she loves a little too much, resting on your lips.
milf!abby who cannot wait until this little party is over so that she can go home and hold you up on your promise of letting her do whatever she wants to do to you. for the time being, she’s just going to have to sit there and let her friends tease her about the sounds that were coming from the bathroom, and ignoring the way you simply looked at her, slumped between two of her friends, legs spread with a beer in your hand and a grin on your face each time she would grow redder at their constant teasing. she just needed to get this party out of the way so she could have you all to herself once again, free to do whatever she wanted, and you were excited, to say the least.
#milf!abby#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson headcanons#abby tlou#abby x reader
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‘CAUSE I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU
౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. michael kaiser x fem reader
౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. heavily self-insert/mindy lore, kaiser’s birthday present, fluff interlaced with angst, slow, intimate sex at the end
౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. how much he means to you — word count. 2.4k
December 25th.
And while the rest of the world is exhilarated, celebrating Christmas, for Kaiser today is just another day. Maybe one with more happiness and whatever is supposed to be this so-called ‘Christmas spirit,’ but still it’s just another day.
You don’t even realise when Kaiser has left your bed. You wake up disoriented and alone in your bed, faint traces of him sleeping next to you lingering in the room. You take a deep breath and steel yourself.
It was pure coincidence you found out that today is his birthday. Knowing him, he will just want to spend the day with you, give you your Christmas gift and maybe go out for a little stroll. Not even mentioning that today is his birthday, not even a small hint or anything. Even so, you want to make this day a little bit special for him. But you know you have to be careful and subtle about it, otherwise Kaiser might either explode or isolate himself from you.
The day officially starts when he returns from the private gym of your apartment building. For all his grumbling about being too much of an unnecessary hassle to decorate the apartment, Kaiser has to take a moment to admire how beautiful this morning is, watching you, unaware of his presence, setting up breakfast on the coffee table next to the tree you had decorated together. So many new things you “forced” him to do, things he somehow found enjoyable. But only because he did them with you.
The day passes by before you realise it. Despite your protests, Kaiser has bought you one gift, insisting that it’s from Santa, though he himself never believed in the guy. He doesn’t want a gift from you, your beautiful smile as he insists on you opening your gift is all he needs. He had wanted to buy you more gifts. In fact, he was planning on making you a tower the size of your Christmas tree made of gifts. But you had insisted on not wanting any gifts, so he searched high and low to find the perfect gift, something small and personal, something you wouldn’t be able to refuse.
Unwrapping his gift, your eyes widen at the beautiful ring with a sapphire blue gem curved in the shape of a rose. You’re truly left speechless, admiring the craftsmanship of the ring. Kaiser, sitting on the floor next to you, props his elbow on his knee, leaning against his hand, and observes you with a small smile on his lips. That’s exactly how he had imagined your reaction.
“You always tell me how much you like your reflection in my eyes, so I thought you could look at this ring and maybe think of me when I’m away,” he says simply, though his heart is beating so fast, Kaiser thinks it might burst. He realises he’s feeling anxious. Anxious that you might reject his gift. The thought alone is enough to make him want to kill himself.
You surprise him before he spirals down in a loop of self-destructive thoughts by softly saying, “It’s perfect, thank you, my love.” He doesn’t have the time to say anything as you press your lips to his in a slow, intimate kiss that clears the fog from his mind. Kaiser lets himself fall under your spell, pulling you closer to him and getting lost in the overwhelming feelings you pour in your kiss.
Kaiser doesn’t realise when you carefully pull a necklace out of your pocket and wrap your arms around his neck, clasping the necklace around his neck. When he pulls back, he looks down, taking in the blue rose pendant hanging from his neck. His eyes shoot up to meet yours and before he opens his mouth, you shut him up with another kiss.
“You don’t need to force yourself to look happy or grateful right now,” you whisper against his lips when you pull slightly back, your eyes locking with his. “You can throw this pendant away right now if you want. But I thought you deserved a gift too today.” You pause, your eyes searching his, trying to gauge his reaction. But his expression is unreadable, even to you. “I just didn’t want to be the only one receiving a gift today,” you say with a small laugh, hinting how you knew he would definitely get you something.
Kaiser is silent for a long moment. Usually, the pendant would feel like a noose choking him, but it doesn’t. Because it came from you. And he can tell you put great thought into this gift and you needed even greater courage to give it to him, knowing he would probably reject it. He’s in a loss for words, a foreign feeling blooming deep inside him. He only nods as a sign of acknowledging your words and gift, but neither thanks you nor takes the necklace off. Instead, he leans in for another kiss.
The rest of the day passes by in a flash. The two of you spend your time together, going on strolls on the park nearby with hot chocolates in hand and later retrieving to your home for more private moments, watching Christmas movies while cuddling in bed together. You haven’t mentioned anything about Kaiser’s birthday yet, not having yet understood how he feels about your earlier gift.
Kaiser hasn’t even thought of taking the necklace off. Whenever you’re focused on something else, he absent-mindedly touches it. He doesn’t exactly hate it, but it’s definitely strange for him. He hates receiving gifts, hates to be forced to be grateful for things he didn’t ask. But something about the way you presented your gift and how you didn’t expect him to thank you, it struck a chord in him.
When the movie ends, the sun has already set outside. You carefully untangle yourself from his embrace, muttering to him to stay put. Kaiser quirks an eyebrow as he watches you leave the room, only to return a while later holding a white thick notebook with blue and red roses scattered all over its cover and back in your hands. You get back on the bed and sit next to him, hesitating before giving him the notebook.
“What’s this?” Kaiser asks curiously.
Your heart is pounding hard against your chest. “Read it,” you say softly, though your voice wavers just a bit, just enough to betray how nervous you’re feeling.
Kaiser notices your nervousness, but doesn’t push you to reveal the reason behind it. Instead, he turns his attention to the notebook. Flipping it open on the first page, his eyes instantly widen, reading the date; the date the two of you met. He reads through the first few lines, before turning to look at you with one of his cocky smirks.
“‘Today, I met the most arrogant bastard on earth,’” he reads what you’ve written. “‘God, I hope I never see him again. He was truly insufferable. Sure, he may be handsome and a star football player, but his personality sucks.’” Kaiser leans closer to your face, his smirk still intact. “So, I’m an insufferable, arrogant, handsome bastard, huh?”
“You are,” you respond, a spark of defiance igniting through your anxiety. “But now I’m better at handling your cocky imperial ass.”
“Is that so?” he questions. He goes back to reading the entries in the notebook. Not five minutes later, he closes it, frowning as he turns to look at you. “Are you seriously having me read how much you hated me when we first met?”
You can’t suppress a small laugh. You pull him against you, the back of his head resting against your chest, your fingers threading through his soft hair, as your chin sits gently on top of his head. “Just shut up and continue reading,” you whisper affectionately.
Kaiser, ever observant, doesn’t miss the slight tension in your body. Instead of addressing that though, he goes back to reading the notebook you gave him. As expected, the first few pages are filled with you complaining about him being a complete dick back when you first met. But slowly, he notices the change in your attitude, in the way you wrote about him, about the two of you. He watches through your words how you slowly fell in love with him, way earlier than you admitted it to him.
The pages transform in front of him the more he reads. As your relationship progresses, it’s not just your thoughts that fill the blank pages. The handwritten notes he had written for you, bookmarks of flowers from bouquets he had given you, receipts from places you had visited together and other little memoirs all glued to the pages next to small entries about how you felt for each and every one and how even his smallest gestures made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
None of you realise how much time has passed. At the beginning, Kaiser occasionally commented on things you had written, but the more he read, the more he immersed himself in this small world on paper you had created, the more silent he grew. And when he reaches the last entry, the one you wrote at midnight last night, you’re holding back your breath, your hands stopping their soothing motion in his hair. But he’s too lost in the words inked on the white page to notice that or the way you’re biting your lip hard, trying to stifle a sob or how fast your heart is beating against your chest.
December 25th
It’s currently midnight and you’re grumbling about how I’m writing something and not paying attention to you. My blue rose emperor is always demanding my attention. I just hope that now, a couple hours later, that you’re reading this notebook you’ve stopped grumbling.
I know you think nothing of this day, but I wanted to make it a little bit special for you. I love you, Michael. I loved you yesterday. I love you today. And I’ll love you tomorrow too. You’re my greatest gift and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always know that.
Happy Birthday, Michael ♡
Kaiser slowly closes the notebook, leaving it on the nightstand. He doesn’t move away from you, but he remains silent for a long time. You can practically see the gears shifting inside his head as he’s processing everything.
‘Happy Birthday,’ you wrote. Right, today is Kaiser’s birthday. After all these years, he had completely forgotten about it. He never told you, because it doesn’t matter to him. And yet somehow you found out nonetheless. And you even wanted to give him a gift, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him, knowing he hates surprises and gifts. Your thoughtfulness touches him greatly.
He slowly turns in your embrace, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his arms around your body tightly. “Michael?” you call out his name softly. But Kaiser doesn’t respond.
And then you feel it; tears soaking your blouse and his body shaking with his sobs. For a fraction of a second you’re stunned, before your arms hold him closer, drawing soothing circles on his back. A tear slips down your cheek and a soft smile curls up your lips. You lean down and kiss the crown of his head, softly murmuring, “I love you, Michael.”
Kaiser looks up at you, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears. He adjusts his position, leaning closer to you and cupping your cheeks in his large palms, his thumbs caressing your soft skin. “I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers as if afraid to break this vulnerable moment between you. “I could have never asked for a better gift than you.”
His lips capture yours in a slow kiss, one filled with all the emotions and feelings he cannot convey with words. He’s overwhelming you in a whole different way than he usually does, making you get drunk on him. Kaiser slowly removes both your clothes until your bare bodies dance together in the sheets.
“Sorry,” he murmurs against your lips. He kisses you, leaving you confused about his apology, but you realise what he meant when you feel him thrust slowly inside you, a slight discomfort spreading through your body at the lack of foreplay, but you don’t mind. You need to feel him as much as he does.
Even so, you can’t help but tease, “Impatient bastard.” The smile on your lips betrays how you couldn’t wait either.
Kaiser smirks, burying his face in the crook of your neck and peppering your neck with kisses and love marks. He doesn’t move, not yet, giving you time to adjust. Though the way your pussy tightens around his cock makes him groan slightly, barely holding himself back. He leans back to look at you, supporting himself on his elbows, his fingers gently caressing your cheeks.
“But you love me,” Kaiser whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his voice and his eyes. It’s not a statement, rather him trying to convince himself that it’s true. That what you have is as real for you as it is for him.
You wrap your arms around his neck gently, pulling him closer to you with a rare smile on your lips, one you reserve only for him. “I love you,” you whisper back and seal your words with a kiss, making every lingering doubt in his mind dissipate into nothing.
You feel Kaiser slowly start thrusting inside you, wanting both of you to feel every second of this moment. Between kisses and moans, he keeps murmuring how much he loves you and how much you mean to him, his love pouring inside you with each deliberate thrust. He’s consuming you, but simultaneously you’re consuming him.
“I feel like I’m stuck in a loop,” he confesses in a low voice, his words barely reaching your ears. He interlaces your fingers, holding your hand against the mattress, as he makes love to you.
You’re so full of him, you’re at a loss for words. For a moment, you don’t know what he’s thinking, but as his body moulds against yours, you know there’s no other place you’d rather be than right here, right now, with him.
“I don’t know what to do,” Kaiser whispers affectionately against your lips. “‘Cause I fell in love with you.”
© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, plagiarise, translate or reuse my work
#౨ৎ ─ strawchocoberry#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#blue lock smut#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser fluff#michael kaiser smut
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Not the same anymore
Summary: After ending his three-year-long relationship due to his friend’s influence, Lando tries everything to get his lover back.
Note: I’m back!!! The winner of the poll I set up was loud and clear! I hope all of you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! P.s buckle up this one is a long one!
Reader x Lando Norris
Genre: fluff/angst
I had been dating Lando for three years, and our relationship was everything I could have ever hoped for. We met at an event, our eyes locking from across the room. He was so handsome, his smile blinding, and I knew right then that I had to talk to him. Except I was too shy to approach him. At that moment it felt like the universe heard me and made Lando approach me. We talked all evening long and we hit it off instantly.
From that moment on, we were practically inseparable. We spent hours talking and getting to know each other, our bond growing stronger with every conversation. I still remembered vividly how he had made me laugh until my sides hurt, how he listened with genuine interest to every word I said.
I remembered the excitement and anticipation when he asked me out, the butterflies in my stomach when he first held my hand. It felt like a fairy-tale come true, and I knew from that moment on that he was the one for me. We shared so many moments of joy, of happiness, and even the occasional disagreement, but we always worked through them together.
At first, I tried not to worry, thinking it was just a phase, but the changes in him only became more pronounced. He was less responsive to my texts and calls, and he seemed to prioritize spending time with his friends over me. I felt lonely and confused, unsure of what had caused this sudden shift.
Lando invited me to his place, and I was excited. I thought he was doing just the same, planning to spend some quality time together.
However, as soon as we found ourselves alone, Lando's face was serious, and my heart started to pound. I knew something terrible was about to happen.
Lando sat down next to me, his gaze fixed on the floor. There was a long, heavy silence before he finally spoke.
"We need to talk," he said, his voice almost a whisper.My heart dropped. Those words... they were never good.
I sat there, feeling the dread settling in my stomach. I knew whatever was about to come couldn't be good. Lando took a deep breath, but his face remained serious.
"I think... we need to break up."
I felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Break up? The words hung heavy in the air, and my mind struggled to process them.
"W...what?" I managed to choke out, my voice shaking slightly. "Why, Lando?"
He avoided my gaze, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "It's just... I need to focus on my career right now," he said, his voice robotic, like he was reciting lines. "Being in a relationship is a distraction, and I can't let it interfere with my goals."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was throwing away our three years together with such ease, as if it meant nothing. I tried to reason with him, to remind him of all the happy memories we had shared.
"We've been together for three years!" I said, my voice rising in volume. "Why is it suddenly a problem now?"
"I need to be 100% focused," Lando insisted, finally meeting my eyes. "It's not just about the amount of time, y/n. It's about the current moment, and right now, my career is my priority." He sounded almost cold, like he was pushing me away.
I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back. How could I mean so little to him, that he would discard our relationship so easily?
"What about us, Lando? What about everything we've been through together?" I pleaded, my voice shaky.
He remained stoic, his expression unchanging. "I'm sorry, y/n," he said, his tone lacking emotion. "But my mind is made up."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It felt as though he was a stranger, a shell of the man I had fallen in love with. “You don’t mean any of it! You’re just stressed.”
Lando seemed to snap. "My friends were right," he said, his tone sharp. "This is for the best. Now, I don't need the distraction of a relationship, and I'm better off without you."
His words felt like a stab in the heart, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I wanted to defend myself, to challenge him, but his friends were the last thing I wanted to bring up.
But I couldn't help it. "Your friends?" I shot back. "They're the worst! All they care about is partying, drinking, and living off your money.”
Lando's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare talk about my friends like that," he snapped, his tone filled with resentment. "They're the ones who are always there to support me, unlike some people."
I couldn't hold back anymore, the emotions boiling over. "Unlike some people? Are you kidding me?" I retorted, my voice cracking. "Who was there for you when you were doubting yourself? Who stayed up late with you, listening to your worries, pushing you to keep going? Wasn't it me?"
He looked stung, but he shook his head, trying to uphold his cold facade. "That's not how things work," he said stiffly. "My career is my top priority, and I don't have time for anything else."
I felt my own anger rising to match his. "So, you're telling me three years of love, support, and understanding mean nothing to you? Just throw it all away for the sake of your career?"
Lando stood up, his face tense. "The decision is made. I don't need a distraction right now, and that's what you are. A distraction." His words felt like a slap in the face.
My heart shattered, each word breaking another piece of it. How could he turn our love into nothing more than a mere bother? How could he talk to me like this? But I couldn't let myself break down fully. Not here, not in front of him. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back tears and keep my composure.
"Fine," I said, my voice cold. "If I'm just a distraction, then go ahead. Focus on your oh-so-important career." I crossed my arms, trying to hide how much his words had hurt me.
"And you know what, Lando?" I continued, my voice rising. "Your friends? They're all using you. They're not true friends; they're just there 'cause you're famous and rich."
Lando's face twisted in anger at my words. "How dare you talk about my friends like that?" he sneered, his tone spiteful. "They're the ones who have supported me through everything. They're true friends, unlike you. Maybe that's why I'm better off without you."
My eyes narrowed. He had crossed a line. How dare he? "At least I never used you. I loved you for you, not for your fame or your money," I shot back.
He laughed, a humorless, bitter laugh. "Love? Please. You only liked being with a famous guy. The attention it brought you, the luxury. Let's not pretend this wasn't also about status for you."
I felt my fist clenching so hard it hurt. "You know that's not true," I said through gritted teeth. "I never cared about your fame or money. I loved who you were, or at least who I thought you were."
"Oh, really?" Lando challenged, his tone sharp. "Then why didn't you ever say no to the fancy parties or designer clothes I bought you? Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."
I felt like my chest was tightening with every one of his accusations. How could he twist things like that, making it seem like I only cared about his money? It was so far from the truth. The minute those words left his mouth I knew it was his friends feeding him these lies about me.
"Those were gifts, Lando," I said, my voice cracking. "I loved them because they came from you, not because they were expensive!"
I didn’t let him speak as I grabbed my bag, my hands shaking with emotion. "Fine. Just don't contact me ever again," I said, my voice cold and void of emotion. "This is over. You’re not the same anymore.”
I walked out of his place, my steps heavy and numb. I didn't look back, afraid of seeing him or breaking down in tears. I just wanted to leave, to get away from his words that echoed in my head, and the painful ache in my heart.
As I stepped outside, the fresh air felt like both a relief and a cold slap in the face. I hailed a taxi, and as I watched the familiar streets pass by, I felt as though my old, happy life had shattered into pieces. I had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away for his stupid career. I would never make that mistake again, I promised myself.
Lando sat in his place alone after she left, the silence of his now-empty home weighing heavily on him. He started thinking about the breakup, feeling a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it aside, remembering that he had chosen his career over her. It was for the best, he told himself, repeating what his friends had been telling him.
As the hours passed, the guilt started to fade, numbed by the pain and the alcohol he poured himself. He eventually called his friends, and they eagerly agreed to come over, happy to hear he had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend.
They arrived, with smiles on their faces, their eyes glinting with anticipation. "Finally, you get to live a little without that distraction!" one of them said, slapping Lando's back. "We're gonna party hard tonight, man! You deserve it."
Lando felt himself slipping into a numbing haze, the alcohol dulling his emotions and his conscience. He allowed himself to be guided by his friends, their words like sweet poison, promising him that he was better off without me, that he wouldn't miss her. They started planning their night out at a flashy new club, their enthusiasm infectious in Lando's alcohol-doused state.
Lando found himself nodding along, his resistance fading away with each drink. The idea of partying seemed like a good escape, a way to drown out the guilt and the loneliness. He convinced himself that tonight, he would let loose and forget, throwing himself into the nightlife and the company of his so-called friends.
As the night progressed, Lando found himself increasingly affected by the alcohol he had consumed. The world started blurring at the edges, and his thoughts became a jumbled mess. He grabbed his phone, his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the buttons. After several clumsy taps and misdialed numbers, he finally managed to dial Max's number.
As the call went through, he heard Max Fewtrell answer from the other end. "Lando? What the hell, it's 3 am, are you drunk?"
Lando let out a chuckle, his voice slurred. "Heyyy, Maxxy," he said, his words tripping over themselves. "You sound so grumpy. Come ooon, I need to talk to youeee."
Max sighed, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake the sleep from his voice. "Lando, this better be important. I was trying to sleep, you know." His tone was annoyed, but the concern was evident under the surface.
Lando ignored Max’s tone, his mind swimming with alcohol-induced impulsiveness. "I need to talk, buddy," he said, his words stumbling over each other. "It's about y/n."
Max sat up in his bed, his annoyance fading in the face of Lando's evident distress. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more awake and alert. "Okay, Lando, I'm listening," he said, his voice steady.
Lando took a deep breath, his words slurred. "Max, I messed up, I really messed up," he slurred, his voice cracking. "I broke up with y/n, and man, I feel like crap. I miss her, Max. I miss her, and it... it hurts, Max, it hurts so much." The line of words came out in a jumble, the weight of his emotions too heavy to hide under his inebriated state.
Max let out a sigh, his concern growing with Lando's admission. "Okay, Lando, listen to me. Stay exactly where you are, and for god's sake, don't go anywhere else. Tell me the name of the club, and I'll come get you."
Lando mumbled the name of the club through the phone, his words a bit muffled. "It's... uh, it's called 'The Neon Lights.' It's that new club in town, very fancy. Can't miss the neon lights," he hiccuped.
Max sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, Lando. I'm on my way. Just don't do anything stupid. Just stay put and wait for me." Max quickly got dressed, leaving his bed behind for the task ahead.
Max drove as fast as he could, and reached the club soon. He spotted Lando right away. His best friend was sitting outside, next to a homeless man, laughing loudly in his inebriated state.
Max couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Lando's current predicament. He approached them, giving the homeless man a nod in greeting. "Alright, Lando, let's go," Max said, reaching out to grab Lando by the arm to help him onto his feet.
Lando tried to protest, but his words came out as a muddled mess. "No, wait! I was just having a talk with him!" he argued, hiccuping. He tried to pull away from Max, but his balance was too shaky. "He's a cool guy, Max. Look!" Lando gestured at the homeless man, his movements exaggerated.
Max shook his head, trying to keep his composure. "Lando, stop making a fool of yourself. Let's go, you're coming with me." He gently led Lando away, making sure he didn’t stumble and fall.
By now, a few people from the club were giving them odd looks, amused by the sight of an apparently famous driver being a mess outside. Max just focused on guiding Lando away, thankful no one had recognized him. "Come on, buddy," he said softly, his arms holding him steady.
Lando put up minimal resistance, his limbs heavy and uncooperative. He tried to protest but his words only slurred together, making it impossible to understand. His legs felt like jelly, and he let Max guide him to his car, his head spinning from the alcohol.
Once they reached the car, Max opened the passenger door for Lando, gently guiding him into the seat. Lando slumped in with a groan, his eyes flickering. Max secured Lando's seat belt, making sure he was as safe as he could be in his current state.
As they arrived at Lando's apartment, Max helped Lando out of the car, his feet dragging sluggishly. Walking him to his bed was a challenge, as Lando leaned heavily on Max. With effort, they finally made it to the bedroom, where Lando practically flopped onto his bed, groaning as his head spun.
Max was concerned about Lando, still inebriated and vulnerable. He grabbed some medication and water, placing them on the bedside table for when Lando woke up. He covered Lando with a thin blanket, making sure he wouldn't be cold in the night. He left quietly, making a mental note to check on him in the morning, closing the door softly behind him.
Max returned to Lando's place the next morning, his concern for him still lingering. He used the spare key Lando had given him and let himself inside the apartment. There was a noticeable silence, the aftermath of Lando's excessive drinking still hung heavily in the air.
Max was in the kitchen by the time Lando trudged down, looking half dead from the night before. His hair was tousled, his eyes bloodshot, and his face pale. He groaned as he spotted Max standing by the counter, a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast ready.
Max watched as Lando slumped into a chair, cradling his head in his hands. "What the hell were you thinking, Lando? You were drunk off your ass," Max scolded gently, his voice laced with worry.
Lando winced as he lifted his head, his eyes squint to slits. "I... I don't know. Needed a distraction," he groaned, his voice hoarse. The alcohol had taken its toll, and he felt like death warmed over.
Max sighed, pushing the cup of coffee towards Lando. "There are better ways to distract yourself than getting drunk, Lando. What if the media had found out? You could have jeopardized your entire career."
Max paused, his gaze fixed on Lando’s disheveled state. "So who were you with last night? Who was irresponsible enough to let you drink in such a state, and then leave you alone in that condition?"
Lando rubbed his temples, trying to remember through his foggy memory. "Some friends," he mumbled, avoiding Max's accusing stare.
"You know, just some guys I hang out with sometimes. They were partying, and I... I don't know, I joined in." He paused, trying to compose himself. "Then I got drunk and they... they left."
Max’s eyes narrowed, seeing right through it. "Those friends, right? Are those the ones who always use you, Lando? The ones who take advantage of your fame?" His voice was sharp and filled with frustration, knowing exactly how those 'friends' manipulated Lando.
Max’s tone was hard as he continued, his questions probing deeper. "Did they invite you or did they just drag you along with them? Because I know how they are, Lando. They always take advantage of you. They use you for your money, your fame, and never really care about you."
Lando hesitated, his eyes downcast. He knew Max had a point. "I... they invited me," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "But I went because I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget her." His voice trembled slightly, the pain he felt creeping into his voice.
Max's ears perked up at the mention of y/n. "Is that why you broke up with y/n, then?" Max's tone softened slightly, realizing this was a sore subject.
"Because you wanted to forget her? To distract yourself from the pain?" He saw Lando wince at the mention of her name, and it confirmed his suspicions.
Lando swallowed hard, the pain in his eyes speaking volumes. "I... yes," he whispered. "I thought if I ended things, it would make it easier, but it's only made it worse." His voice shook with regret, the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders.
Max probed further, sensing there was more to this. "Were the friends the ones who influenced you to break up with y/n, Lando?" He had a feeling they were involved, knowing their toxic nature.
Lando shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Max's gaze. "They... they encouraged it, yeah," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed.
"They kept saying she was holding me back, that a relationship would only hinder my career, and I... I let them get into my head."
Max was furious. He had seen how much y/n loved Lando, how much she supported him at every turn, and now he had thrown it all away because of some 'friends' who didn't care about him. "They're the worst, Lando!" His voice rose. "They don't care about you, not like she does. She's been there for you, through everything. And you let them poison you against her?"
Lando closed his eyes, the reality of Max's words piercing through his foggy mind. Max was right. He had let himself be manipulated by his so-called friends, allowing them to turn him against the one person who genuinely cared about him.
"I know," he whispered, his voice choked. "I messed up. I'm an idiot."
Max sighed, his frustration mingling with a sense of compassion.
"You're not an idiot, Lando. But you made a terrible mistake. You let yourself be led astray by the wrong people. Those friends, they're poison. And y/n... she's the one who truly cares for you. You need to fight for her, Lando. Don't let them ruin what you and y/n had."
Lando admitted, his voice filled with regret and defeat. "It's too late, Max. She has blocked me everywhere. She doesn't want anything to do with me." His shoulders slumped, the weight of his mistake heavy on him. "She probably hates me now, and I don't blame her. I hurt her, Max. I don't think she'll ever take me back."
Max, determined to help Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands. He texted y/n, hoping to plead on Lando's behalf, but Max was met with a cold wall - she had blocked him too. Frustration welled up inside, knowing how much of a hole Lando had dug for himself.
"Lando," he said, his tone heavy, "She blocked me too. This is going to be harder than I thought."
Lando flinched as Max confirmed y/n had blocked him too. It felt like the finality of his mistake, like the door to reconciliation was slammed shut, and he had no way to open it.
"I can't blame her," Lando muttered, his eyes downcast. "I messed up so badly. She's got every right to hate me now."
Lando's phone suddenly buzzed with a text from one of his 'friends,' inviting him out again. But before Lando could even react, Max swiped the phone from his hand, angrily blocking them all.
Lando stared at Max, a mix of shock and annoyance on his face. "Dude, what the hell!" he exclaimed, trying to get his phone back.
Max's expression was serious, his tone firm. "Those friends of yours are poison," he stated, holding the phone just out of Lando's reach. "They're the ones who encouraged you to break up with y/n. They're not your real friends, and I'm not letting them influence you further."
Lando tried to reach for his phone again, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Max, please give me my phone. You can't just block them all! Those are my friends!" He sounded desperate, trying to justify something he knew deep down was wrong.
Max stood his ground, shaking his head. "No, Lando. Those friends are the reason we're in this mess right now. They don't have your best interests at heart. They only care about what they can gain from you. You need to see that!" His grip on the phone remained firm, not giving Lando any chance to retrieve it.
Lando, still hungover and angry, tried to make his case. "But... but they're the only ones who are there for me, Max!" Lando argued, desperation lacing his voice. "They're the ones who party with me when I feel down. They're the ones who go out to clubs while y/n stays home. They're just trying to look out for me."
Max's patience wore thin, his anger boiling over. He threw the phone at Lando with a snap, the device landing on the bed next to him. "Fine!" Max sneered, his voice cold. "Figure it out on your own, Lando. Seems you'd rather listen to those so-called friends than hear the truth. See how far they take you."
Lando flinched as Max threw the phone at him, feeling a mix of guilt and stubbornness bubbling inside. Max's words rang true, a painful reminder of the fact that he was defending his toxic friends over the one person who cared. But in his hungover state, he was stubborn, unwilling to admit his friends were the ones pulling him into a toxic pit.
"Fine!" Lando retorted, his voice rising. "I don't need you trying to control my life! And I don't need y/n. I can do whatever I want with my friends!" He grabbed his phone, clutching it tightly, his anger and resentment towards Max growing.
Max stormed out, leaving Lando alone in that moment, his thoughts swirling like a storm. Lando sat in silence, surrounded by the chaos he had created, and the weight of his choices. Max's absence left him with nothing but his own thoughts and the quiet, empty apartment, the reality of his situation setting in.
Days blurred together as I drowned myself in work, my fingers flying over the keyboard, creating numbers and reports that seemed like a lifeline in this sea of heartache. The silence of my apartment was too loud, so I stayed at the office, working until exhaustion took hold.
My best friend grew worried, her concern palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to open up. Who would even want to listen to my sob story, anyway?
I couldn't even bring myself to think about our breakup, the pain still too fresh. Work was my solace, a way to stay one step ahead of the thoughts that threatened to consume me. I tried to focus on the numbers, the deadlines – anything to avoid confronting the reality of my shattered heart.
But as much as I worked, the pain lingered, refusing to fade away. Every now and then, I'd find myself staring off into space, the memories of our time together flooding back. The sound of Lando's laughter, his warm touch, it all came crashing back in waves that threatened to crush me.
Lost in my own world, the sound of my best friend's voice finally broke through the fog of my thoughts. She had been calling my name for the past five minutes, but I hadn't heard a word, too consumed by my own internal battle. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the daze.
She stood by my cubicle, her expression a mix of worry and concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft. "I've been trying to get your attention for a while now."
I blinked again, trying to shake off the haze and focus on her words. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied through clenched teeth, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just really focused on this project." I tried to sound convincing, but I couldn't meet her gaze.
My best friend gently urged, "Y/N, I'm here for you, whenever you're ready to open up. How about a girls' night out tonight? A chance to take your mind off things? You need a break."
Each word felt like a lifeline. She knew just what I needed, an opportunity to lose myself for a moment without the weight of the breakup suffocating me.
The distraction of a girls' night out sounded tempting. I'd have a chance to let go, to pretend things were fine for a while. "Okay," I softly agreed, a small hint of warmth amidst the pain. "A girls' night sounds great. Let's do it."
As the hours passed, I tried to focus on the preparations, changing into something comfortable after my long day of work. But as I stood in front of the mirror, my mind kept wandering, the memories of Lando and the happier times we shared together. I took a deep breath, locking those thoughts away at the back of my mind, and plastered on a smile.
We met at a nearby bar, the noise and laughter a stark contrast to the silence of my apartment.
My best friend tried to engage me in conversation, steering clear of any topics about relationships or exes. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and I found myself sipping on my favorite cocktail, letting the alcohol blunt the edges of my pain for just a moment.
As the night progressed, my best friend knew something was still weighing heavily on me. She steered the conversation deeper, her eyes meeting mine in understanding. "Y/N, really, what's going on? I can see something's eating at you."
I sighed, taking another sip. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and the pain I'd locked away started to slip out.
I hesitated for a moment, then the floodgates opened. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and with each sip, the words poured out. "Me and Lando broke up," I said, my voice wavering. The pain I'd tried to hide finally came out in the open.
My best friend listened without interruption as I told her everything - the pain, the doubts, the sense of loss. She held my hand, her thumb running across the back of my hand in a comforting gesture, allowing me to release all the emotions I had been holding in.
The pain intensified as I allowed myself to acknowledge it again. "I still miss him," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, "but I can't go back to him. Not after everything he put me through."
My best friend stayed silent, letting me take the lead, listening without judgment, offering reassurance with her hand, holding mine firmly.
Her words were gentle, yet comforting. "You're strong, Y/N," she said, squeezing my hands. "It hurts, and it's hard, but you'll get through this. I'm here for you every step of the way."
Her words provided solace, reminding me of my own strength, even when I felt like I was crumbling.
She was right; I had gotten through tough times before. This, too, would pass. I tried to hold onto those words, a glimmer of hope in the midst of hurt. I wiped away my tears, taking a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
After hours we decided to call it a night. As my best friend dropped me off at my apartment, the night's diversion ended, and the silence of my apartment fell heavily around me.
The momentary respite from the pain had come to an end, and the reality of being alone set in again. I tried to ignore the loneliness, the emptiness without Lando. Instead, I got ready for bed, trying to find solace in routine.
I reached for my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the memories that kept invading my thoughts. But as I opened it, I was met with a barrage of social media updates about Lando and me - our pictures together, speculation, and the truth I had been trying to escape. The pain hit me all over again as I saw others asking about our breakup, theories swirling around me.
f1gossippofficial
Liked by formula1_news, f1_wags and others
f1gossippoffical Trouble in Paradise? Fans have suspected that Formula One driver Lando Norris has broken up with his girlfriend Y/N. The pair have unfollowed each other on all platforms and haven't been seen together in months. This suspicion was confirmed after fans saw Lando getting drunk at a club without his partner, living his life. What do you think happened? Follow for more updates!
View all comments
loveformywags2 What? Is this confirmed? This can't be right?! 🥲
lalalandlando4 He deserved better anyways 🤷♀️
f1maniaclvr Do y/n and Lando know about this? 🤦♀️
pookielanscar481 It's just odd that he was seen being drunk out of his mind without her
mam4you81 That's what I was thinking... What if she broke up with him and he's drowning himself in alcohol?
nanalalaf14 Honestly I don't think so, I think he dumped her since he had stopped interacting with her on his socials while she still liked and commented on all his posts.
4everf1loca NOOOOO my sheilaaaaa 😭
As I scrolled through the comments, reading the theories about us, a bitter realization hit me. They were only seeing the surface, the façade we had carefully crafted for the public. If only they knew what had really happened, the pain, the reasons behind our breakup.
The comments were full of speculation and curiosity. People thought they knew our love story, but they knew nothing. They didn't see the fights, the lies, the coldness between us. Their theories felt like a slap in the face, mocking the reality of our relationship.
All I knew at this moment was that I should take the time to heal and not let anyone ruin this for me.
Months had passed since the breakup, and I had finally made significant progress in my healing journey. Though the memory of Lando and our heartbreak still lingered, I had come a long way. I had focused on myself, investing time in hobbies, spending quality time with my friends, and allowing myself to heal.
I had established boundaries, avoiding social media and news about Lando that would reopen the wounds. I started a new project at work, pouring my energy into something productive. Slowly, I felt like I was rebuilding myself.
Right now, I was sat with my best friend, enjoying lunch together. My phone buzzed with a notification from an old group chat I had almost forgotten about. It was the group chat I used to be part of, with Kika and Alex.
When I opened it, I was greeted with a flood of messages, the group hasn't been active ever since my break up. So I was curious to see what this was all about.
My best friend, curious, noticed the notification that I had checked my phone. She gave me a questioning look, asking, "What was that about?"
"It's an old group chat from two of my WAG friends," I explained. "They want to catch up during the next GP."
My best friend raised her eyebrow, visibly curious. "And are you going to go?" she asked, her voice gentle but eager to know.
"At first, I didn't really want to go because of... well, Lando being there," I admitted, a mixture of hesitation and bravery in my voice. "But then I thought why should I let him dictate what I do? I shouldn't be scared of him, right?"
I paused, my determination showing through. "So, yes, I agreed to go."
My best friend's face lit up with happiness as she heard my decision. "I'm so proud of you!" she said, her pride shining through. "You're not letting him hold you back or influence you anymore. That's such a huge step forward, and you should be proud of yourself."
For a moment, seeing my best friend's proud expression filled me with a surge of bravery. She was right; I wasn't letting Lando affect my decisions anymore. I was taking control of my life again, one choice at a time.
As I laughed with my best friend, the weight of Lando gradually faded into the background. We continued talking, laughing, and enjoying our lunch together. Lando's name didn't come up in conversation. For now, he was just a distant thought, overshadowed by the joys of friendship and healing.
Lando stood in the McLaren garage during the Silverstone GP, his entourage of fake friends surrounding him in his papaya-colored driver overalls. They joked, laughed, and offered their hollow support, all while he got ready for the race.
Amidst the laughter, Lando's thoughts turned to y/n. He missed her, the void she had left in his life was still present, gnawing at him. He had tried to reach out, creating new accounts, but he found himself blocked at every turn, silence his only reply. It was as if the universe itself was holding back any chance of them reconnecting, driving home his deepest fears and regrets.
Lando snapped out of his pensive state, focusing his mind back on the race ahead. He had a job to do, after all. With a firm tone, he told his friends to stay put, to relax and enjoy the race while he got ready. His determination was evident, a momentary distraction from his heart's constant ache.
Lando quickly realised that he had forgotten his phone. As he retraced his steps to retrieve his phone, he heard muffled voices from within his driver's room. Curious, he stopped before he entered, straining to hear the conversation inside.
Michael chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. "Can you believe Lando was so stupid to break up with her?" Sam agreed wholeheartedly, a sneer on his face. "She was perfect for him, a distraction holding him back from his true potential."
Jake snorted. "Yeah, she was a total inconvenience, always nagging and taking up his time and money. Good riddance, I say."
They shared a cruel laugh, satisfied with their opinions. The conversation between Lando's fake friends revealed their true intentions - to have Lando's undivided attention, away from someone who truly cared about him.
They continued their conversation, mocking y/n's influence on Lando. Michael spoke with a mischievous grin. "It was a piece of cake convincing him. He ate up everything we said like a fool."
John snorted in agreement. "Yeah, we made sure he saw her as a hindrance. Now we have him all to ourselves, no competition."
James interjected, a cruel glint in his eyes. "We convinced him she was holding him back, that he needed to focus on his racing. We even convinced him she was just after his money. Classic play."
They chuckled, pleased with the web of lies they had spun. Michael added, "He doesn't even know what's good for him. We'll keep him under our control, keeping his attention and his wealth all to ourselves. He's too naive to see through us."
Sam, the schemer, couldn't contain his glee. "This has been the easiest con ever. Lando's so trusting, so foolish. We just have to keep filling his head with our lies, and he'll do whatever we want."
Lando, his heart heavy with the revelations, stormed back into the room, anger seeping through his every feature. His fists clenched, his eyes darkened in fury. He couldn't believe how easily he had been manipulated, how blind he had been to the deceit around him.
"How could I be so stupid?" he bellowed, staring down the group.
The group of fake friends froze, their faces stunned. They stared at Lando, wide-eyed, their laughter abruptly silenced. They hadn't expected Lando to return so soon, or to have overheard their malicious conversation.
Lando's voice trembled with a mix of fury and pain. "I can't believe I let you manipulate me like this!" His eyes burned with a potent blend of anger and regret. He stepped closer, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and hurt. "You were behind all of this, convincing me to break up with her, making me think she was holding me back."
The friends, caught off guard, tried to scramble for excuses. But Lando's words cut through their attempts to justify themselves. Michael spoke up, his voice trembling, "We... we were just looking out for you, Lando. We thought she was holding you back. We wanted what's best for your career, that's all."
Sam chimed in, trying to appease Lando. "We were trying to help you, Lando. We saw how she was distracting you, taking up your time and money. You need to focus on your racing. You're our golden goose!" He forced a fake chuckle, hoping Lando would buy into the manipulation again.
Lando clenched his fists, his body trembling with fury. "You didn't care about what's best for me. All you cared about was having me all to yourselves, using me for my fame and money. You manipulated me, turning me against the one person who loved me truly."
Jake tried to interject, his voice oozing with false concern. "Lando, we did care about you. We just wanted to protect you from a bad influence. We didn't want you to be taken advantage of." He attempted a manipulative smile, trying to deflect the blame onto me.
Lando's voice rose in intensity, his anger boiling over. "Don't you Dare talk about her like that! She was the only one who genuinely cared about me, not you. You're just jealous because she didn't let you use me like you do. You're nothing but a bunch of leeches!"
Michael, emboldened by Lando's anger, smirked, his words sharp. "Don't you dare blame us. This is on you, Lando. You were the one who was too stupid to see through our facade. Now you've lost her because of your own damn foolishness, not our fault in the slightest."
Lando, seething with a mix of hurt and anger, quickly called the security guards. With a firm voice, he instructed, "Get these snakes out of here now!"
The security guards, recognizing the tone of a man pushed to his limit, swiftly entered, escorting the fake friends out of the garage. Lando stood there, watching them leave, a bitter taste in his mouth.
As the fake friends were forcefully escorted out, Lando was left alone in the garage, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. The pain, the regret, the anger—it all slammed into him, finally giving way to the torrent he had held back for so long.
He slumped against a wall, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. Tears prickled in his eyes, his breath coming in ragged breaths.
As Lando sat there, the regret gnawed at him, growing sharper by the second. He thought about y/n, the love he had lost. The memories of their time together flooded his mind, and he berated himself for throwing it away. He blamed himself for listening to the friends who had manipulated him.
He thought about the love they shared, how he had let it slip through his fingers, shattered by his own foolishness and vulnerability to their lies.
Lando, still in a vulnerable state, decided to reach out to Max, despite their rocky past. He thought about the clubs and the disagreements they had had, but he had no one else to turn to now. With a mix of regret and desperation, he dialed Max's number.
Max picked up the phone, immediately sensing the desperation in Lando's voice. As Lando poured out his emotions and apologies, Max listened, his tone softening.
Lando confessed, his voice cracking, "I should have listened to you, Max. You were right about them, all along. I was a fool to listen to their lies and ignore you."
Max, surprised but relieved, replied, "I'm glad you realize now, Lando. Those friends were toxic. They used you, and I tried to protect you, but I understood, now." Max's words were sympathetic, understanding Lando's turmoil, even though they had their differences.
Lando confessed, his voice trembling with a mix of regret and desperation. "Max, I miss her, I miss y/n so much. I'll do anything to get her back, anything at all. It's the biggest mistake I've ever made."
Max fell silent, his concern deepening. He didn't know the extent of Lando's mistreatment of her.
The mention of y/n stirred worry in Max. He gently asked, "Lando, you know I didn't want you to break up with her. But why do you think you mistreated her? Can you tell me about that?" Max's tone was cautious, sensing that there was more to the story than he knew.
Lando hesitated, knowing he had a lot to unpack. Max's curiosity fueled a mix of fear and guilt inside Lando. He knew he had to come clean, even though it was painful to admit.
Taking a deep breath, Lando began to confess, his voice shaky. "I... I treated her badly, Max. I hurt her, ignored her, and took her for granted."
Max couldn't help but wince, knowing there was a deeper issue.
Lando's voice cracked with remorse. "They fed me lies about her. They convinced me that she was holding me back, that she wasn't good enough. I believed them, and I treated her poorly."
Max, as supportive as possible, tried to provide words of encouragement. "Lando, that's rough. You've made mistakes, but the first step is admitting it. You know you messed up; now it's about making amends."
He sighed, "Lando, remember that true love isn't about perfection. It's about growing together, learning from mistakes, and valuing someone despite their flaws."
He paused, his voice serious. "But you've got to show her you mean it. Words are easy, but actions will be your proof. Are you ready to do that?"
Lando, though shaken and determined, nodded, his voice firm. "Yes, Max. I'm ready. I want to prove it to her. I'll show her I've changed and that I'm serious about making amends."
Max and Lando continued talking, their conversation growing shorter as Lando had to prepare for the race. As they bid each other goodbye, Max reminded Lando, "Stay focused during the race. Clear your mind; that's important, too."
Lando, though his mind was heavy with emotion, took Max's words to heart. He knew he had to compartmentalize his feelings for now and focus on the race ahead. He focused on the tracks, his car, and his performance, pushing aside his turbulent emotions for the moment.
I stepped into the grand prix feeling a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The grandstands, the roaring fans, and the smell of rubber and fuel in the air brought back a whirl of emotions. Seeing the tracks where Lando and I used to share moments filled me with nostalgia and a pang of heartache.
My thought were interrupted by two voices. Kika and Alex, my two closest friends, ambushed me with warm hugs, pulling me into their embrace. Their cheerful voices cut through the noise of the Grand Prix, and I felt a mix of relief and joy. It had been a while since we had been together.
"Y/N! You made it!" Kika exclaimed. "We've missed you so much!"
Alex chimed in, grinning widely. "We've been dying to hang out with you! It's been ages." She playfully pinched my cheek. "You look great, by the way."
"Oh, stop it! I didn't do anything special. You two, on the other hand, are the real stars here. Look at you!" I playfully nudged them both, my tone teasing and lighthearted.
Kika and Alex beamed, clearly enjoying the compliment. "Alright, alright, enough with the flattery," Alex said, feigning exhaustion. "We're here to have a blast. You ready for this?"
I sighed one more time while looking around before replying. "More then ready."
We made our way to our favorite hangout spot at hospitality. It was cozy, far from the chaos of the track. As we settled in, surrounded by comfortable couches and tables, a mix of nostalgia and anticipation washed over us.
"I've missed this place," Kika said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "So many memories, right?"
We spent hours catching up, sharing stories, laughter, and heartfelt moments. The conversation flowed easily between us, like old times. Laughter echoed in the cozy space of the hospitality center, and our spirits were lifted. Time seemed to slip away as we bonded and supported one another. Eventually, the time came for Kika and Alex to head back out; their respective significant others were getting ready for their races.
Kika and Alex rose from their seats, their faces slightly apologetic. "We have to go," Kika sighed.
Alex nodded, adding, "Come find us later, okay?"
I gave them both a nod, understanding their commitment to support their boyfriends. "Of course, we'll catch up after the races. Good luck to them!"
Kika and Alex shared one last embrace, their hugs warm and reassuring, then they left to get to their respective spots by the trackside.
As they left, I was left to navigate the grandstands, finding my spot amidst the sea of fans. I blended into the crowd, the anticipation in the air as the racers prepared for their engines to start.
The race concluded, but it felt bittersweet. Lando's face was everywhere - on the screens, the winners' podium, the trackside banners. Seeing him in his natural element, celebrating victories, stirred mixed emotions in me. The pain of missing him and the hope of reconciliation blended together in a complicated mix.
After a bit, I decided that I needed to use the restroom so I headed that way. I made my way to the private VIP restrooms, my VIP pass granting me access. The restroom was clean and spacious, offering a respite from the noise outside. I checked my reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to compose myself.
As I exited the restroom, I was lost in my thoughts, only to bump into someone in the hall. I froze, instantly recognizing Lando's familiar voice. His figure stood in front of me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. His gaze met mine, and time seemed to stand still.
Lando called out for me, his voice filled with surprise, "y/n." His eyes held a mix of shock and tenderness, his voice holding a hint of the emotions he was trying to keep at bay.
As the words hung in the air between us, my heart raced. His presence was so close, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
I got out of my stance, trying to leave, I tried to walk past him, but Lando blocked my path, stopping me in my tracks. I felt a wave of emotions crash over me - pain, anger, hope, and a deep longing all mingled together. The intensity of it was overwhelming, and I tried to suppress it.
Lando's voice was hesitant and filled with vulnerability. "Y/N, please…can we talk? Just for a moment."
His request was sincere, his eyes pleading with me not to walk away.
I shook my head, my resolve firm. "No, Lando. I can't and I don't want to." I replied, my voice resolute. The pain from our breakup was still too fresh, and talking to him now would reopen wounds I wasn't ready to confront. I tried to move past him, my expression set with determination.
Lando's face fell, a mix of hurt and resignation evident. He saw my determination, my refusal to engage. He took a step closer, his words soft but desperate, "Please... just hear me out."
My frustrations boiled over. "Don't you think it's ironic? Now you want me to hear you out, when you never listened to me when you decided to end things," I retorted, my voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.
Lando winced at my words, the truth of them hitting him hard. "I know... I made a mistake," he said, his voice tinged with regret. He was trying to find the right words, his eyes pleading with me to give him a chance.
Lando's expression twisted, the guilt evident on his face as he processed my response. The words cut deep, the truth behind them undeniable.
"A mistake?" I repeated, my voice dripping with bitterness. "You ruined me."
I continued, my words raw.
"I spent months wondering what was wrong with me, why you ended a relationship of three years for a fake friendship that didn't even last a year. Where are those 'friends' who supposedly supported you through everything? I don't see them here, Lando."
Lando looked down, ashamed. He had no answer. His fake friends were nowhere to be found, leaving him alone to confront the consequences of his actions. The weight of his mistake seemed to grow heavier.
He finally managed to gather his thoughts, his voice a mix of guilt and sincerity. "I messed up. I don't expect you to forgive me right now. But please, let me explain." He took a step closer, his regret etched on his face, silently begging for my understanding.
I raised an eyebrow, my words sharp. "Explain? What's left to explain? You threw away three years of us for a group of shallow friendships. What could you possibly say to make this better?"
Lando knew my words hurt, but he was desperate. "I was blind. I was a damn coward," he confessed. "I allowed myself to be manipulated by my so- called friends, and in the process, I hurt you."
He continued, his voice tinged with regret and shame, "I saw them as my real friends, but now I realize they only saw me as a way to elevate their social status." He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "They saw you as a threat, someone who could expose their true intentions. They convinced me you were holding me back, when in reality, they had me blinded."
His voice trembled as he continued, "I let myself believe their lies. They filled my head with jealousy, making me doubt our relationship, and I was stupid enough to listen to them." His vulnerability shone through, his emotions raw.
I nodded, my expression guarded. "I'm glad you've recognized your mistakes, Lando. But can you imagine the pain I've experienced because of them, because of you?"
My words conveyed a mix of grief and resentment. The hurt I suffered remained a palpable presence, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.
Lando nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't take back what he had done. The time he spent believing those fake friends and ending our relationship had shattered something that couldn't easily be repaired. He understood the depth of my suffering, a consequence of his blind trust and foolishness.
Lando looked at me, his expression sincere, and asked if we could try again. He voiced his regret, hoping for a chance to make things right. The hope in his eyes was clear, but the weight of the past lingered between us. He wanted to rebuild, to fix what he had broken.
He pleaded with me, his voice filled with remorse. "I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I want us to try again. I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't let those fake friends influence me anymore. I'll do whatever it takes."
I shook my head, my voice resolute. "No, Lando. I'm still healing, and right now, I don't want to try again. I need time, space. I can't just forgive and forget in a snap."
My words were firm, expressing my current inability to jump back into a relationship after everything I had been through.
Lando, his voice filled with sincerity, looked into my eyes. His gaze conveyed the depth of his regret and determination. "I understand," he said. "I will wait for you, for ten years or more," he promised. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."
As we concluded the conversation, Lando stood there, his heart heavy with the weight of our future hanging in the balance. He watched me leave, a mix of emotions coursing through him: regret, hope, and an ache of longing. He had to accept that he couldn't rush our healing process, no matter how much he desired to be by my side.
I walked away, my eyes misty, the past and the uncertainty of our future intertwining in my thoughts.
f1gossippofficial
Liked by formula1_news, wagscloset, formula1_gossips and others
f1gossippoffical Months after their break-up, Lando Norris and Y/N have been spotted after the Silverstone GP. Sources state that the ex-couple were arguing, what the argument was about is still a big question. Many suspected it was because of a third party being involved. Thoughts about this one?
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lazyformulaland Bro leave them alone, they're both adults. Let them solve this in peace ffs. 🙄
lvr4lan Noooo Lando honey this isn't you run!
wagslov4 Did he pick you yet ? 🙄
bbpiastri81 What the hell is going on
norriswithrizz4 This is insane, the main focus of formula one isn't even on formula one anymore smh 🤦♀️
4everyours4ln Y'all are too invested, leave my girl y/n alone.
momolew16 Forreal the girl didn't ask for this
closetofpeacefashion7 Exactly she was finally thriving and then this happend. It doesn't even look like she wanted to talk to him
mayyoushush8 Did she tell you that 🤨
closetofpeacefashion7 @mayyoushush8 Don't be stupid even a kid can see that 🥱
I decided to head back home, not forgetting to shoot Alex and Kika a quick message which they completely understood.
As I reached home, the weight of the evening's emotions crashed down on me. The conversation with Lando had stirred up all the hurt and confusion I had been suppressing. I felt emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed, unsure of what to make of it all.
The silence of my home only amplified my inner turmoil, leaving me to wrestle with my conflicted feelings.
A few days passed after the incident, I decided to move on with life and not let it bother me again. A perfect distraction? Drowning myself in my workload.
I arrived at work as I stepped inside the building, I was greeted by Linda, one of my co-workers.
Linda, approached me with a mischievous grin, her question catching me off guard. "Do you have a secret admirer, by any chance?" she asked, the curiosity palpable in her voice.
I stared at her, confused by her question, wondering why she would draw such a conclusion. I shook my head, puzzled by the idea. "What makes you think that?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.
Linda chuckled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of intrigue. She replied, "Have a look in your office."
Puzzled by her cryptic hint, I made my way to the elevator and reached my office. As I stepped inside, confusion lingered in my mind, wondering what I was about to find.
My eyes widened with shock and surprise as I entered the office, finding a massive bouquet of my favorite flowers. The delicate blooms filled the space with a sweet, comforting fragrance. Attached to the flowers was a note, mysterious and intriguing. My heart fluttered with anticipation as I reached for the note.
My fingers traced the delicate paper of the note, and as I read the words, they stirred a whirlwind of emotions. The poem was written in delicate script, the words flowing like music... and it was about love. Each line spoke of tenderness, trust, and a future filled with hope. The words were so beautiful, it was as if they were carefully chosen specifically for me.
The little poem, written with a tender brush of affection, read:
"From the morning dew to the evening's glow, My love for you continues to grow. Through shadows and light, in every season's rain, Our bond remains, a gentle refrain.
In whispers of joy and moments of peace, I hold you close within my heart's embrace. Each smile shared, each memory we weave, My love will remain a boundless pledge."
I was so confused, who could've been behind this? As I read the poem again, my mind wandered to Lando for a moment. I quickly dismissed that Idea. He had confessed that he couldn't write romantic words, finding them cringeworthy.
If it wasn't Lando, then who would have written such a poem?
As the day wrapped up, I found myself heading home, my mind still lingering on the mysterious poem. Entering my home, I sank onto the couch, exhaustion seeping through my bones. The softness of the cushions welcomed me as my thoughts played through my mind, trying to unravel the mystery.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ring of the doorbell that echoed through my home. It was late in the evening, and I couldn't guess who might be at the door at such a time. With some curiosity and a hint of wariness, I got up to answer.
I went over to the door to open it and I was met with a delivery man. The delivery man handed me a massive bouquet of fresh flowers and a large box of chocolates. The fragrance from the flowers mingled with the scent of chocolate. The combination was almost overwhelming, leaving me baffled as I accepted the gifts.
Now I was even more confused, this bouquet was even bigger than the one from my office. And the weird thing was, that the chocolates I got were only my favorites.
I examined the box of chocolates, finding another note attached to the top. Carefully, I opened the wrapper, retrieving the note. Just like the previous one, it was written on delicate paper, filled with intrigue. I unfolded it, ready to read the message.
As I unfolded the paper, I was met with neat, elegant handwriting. The words held a romantic touch, and I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity. The second poem spoke of tender love and adoration.
"Your presence brings light to every room, A symphony of grace in each simple bloom. Though we may walk separate paths in life, My heart's allegiance is a ceaseless strife."
I sat there, taken aback by the heartfelt words. They spoke of admiration and deep affection. Who could have written these beautiful poems and left them for me? The confusion deepened, and I pondered who could be behind the mysterious gestures.
Plagued by curiosity, I reached for my phone and called my best friend, hoping for answers. As the call rang, I prepared myself for a wave of questions, expecting her to know something.
My best friend's cheerful voice filled the call, answering instantly. "Hello?" She sounded cheerful as ever, not knowing the mystery I was about to unload on her.
I cut straight to the point, my tone slightly urgent. "Hey, I have a question. So, I've been receiving anonymous flowers, chocolates, and... poems." I paused a moment. "Any idea who it could be?" I asked, hoping for some insight.
She was silent for a moment, her surprise apparent. But then her voice brightened, and I could tell she had a theory. "Oooh, a mystery admirer?" she asked, half-joking, half-curious.
I sighed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Well, yes. It is somewhat mysterious." I replied, unable to hide the hint of unease in my voice amidst the flowers and chocolates surrounding me.
We delved into the mystery, discussing possibilities. From past crushes to unknown admirers, we contemplated various scenarios. But no concrete conclusion surfaced, leaving me even more intrigued and slightly frustrated.
That was until my best friend's insight sparked a new perspective. She pointed out that the mystery admirer seemed to know me well. They knew my workplace, my love for romantic poems, and even my favorite chocolates and flowers. It wasn't just a coincidence; they seemed to have a grasp on my habits. The timing of the delivery was eerily precise, appearing just when I arrived home.
My best friend continued, her voice filled with speculation. "It's not just the flowers and chocolates, it's the timing. They know your work schedule. It's almost like they're watching, waiting for the right moment."
I agreed, thoughtfully absorbing. "Yeah, that's been bothering me. The timing is too perfect. They either know my schedule or they're stalking me." I chuckled, trying to soften the situation with humor.
"Wait!" My best friend suddenly interrupted, a speculative glint in her eyes. "Could it have been Lando?"
The name hung heavily in the air, bringing our conversation to a halt.
I shook my head, quickly dismissing the idea. "No, probably not. Lando doesn't enjoy writing, especially not romantic poems. He always told me he found them cringe."
My bestie nodded, acknowledging my response. "Ah, right. He's not exactly the poetic type, is he?"
I grinned slightly, remembering Lando's disdain for poetic words. "Nope, definitely not. He'd rather punch a wall than write a poem." I joked, the idea of Lando writing a poem seeming far-fetched, even for a moment.
After a while of thinking and cracking our brains open, we ended the conversation, deciding to table the mystery for the moment. We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone, my mind still swirling with questions. I prepared for the night, the flowers and chocolates lingering in the background, their presence a reminder of the mysterious admirer.
Several months passed, and the mysterious gifts persisted, each one more thoughtful and personal. The flowers continued arriving, alongside a new addition - small, handmade tokens. Notes slipped into the bouquet containing thoughtful messages, while a box of my favorite chocolates came with a heartfelt poem.
I sought information, asking friends and family if they knew anything. They were taken by surprise and genuinely had no idea who was behind the surprises. The mystery deepend as everyone denied any involvement.
The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.
The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.
The messages, delivered alongside the tangible gifts, carried messages that resonated with my emotions and experiences. It felt almost as if this person truly knew me, yet remained hidden behind the anonymity of their identity.
It was that time again - our annual girls' night out. We always looked forward to these nights, a chance to let loose and have a blast in a vibrant club. I had my best friend beside me, ready to dance the night away. The only problem? My best friend chose a club that Lando used to go to every time. She reassured me that he wouldn't be here which I took her word for.
We strutted into the club, excitement filling the air. Music pulsed through the venue, the bass matching the rhythm of our hearts. The lights dazzled the dance floor, and we blended into the crowd, the worries of the day fading in the throes of the nightlife. We decided to hit the dance floor, letting go of any inhibitions as we lost ourselves in the music.
We danced with abandon, the beat pulsating through us, the rhythmic movements our shared language. The neon lights flashed, adding an electric charge to the atmosphere. As we danced and whirled, we felt liberated from the daily grind, living in the moment, lost in the music and the company of my best friend.
Later that night we both got thirsty, I made my way to the bar to get us drinks, when suddenly a man approached me. I could already smell the alcohol on him as he staggered towards me, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.
He smirked, his words coming out in a clumsy manner. "Hey there, pretty lady," he slurred, his tone oozing with an unwanted familiarity. He invaded my personal space, leaning in a bit too close for comfort.
I could feel the warmth of his breath, tainted with alcohol, against my cheek as he spoke. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?" He tried to flirt, his persistence evident even amidst his intoxication.
I tried to maintain a polite smile, stepping back slightly. "I'm here with a friend," I replied, my voice a mix of politeness and discomfort. I glanced at the bartender, silently praying for my order to arrive sooner so I could escape this uncomfortable interaction.
He chuckled, his intoxication making him clumsy yet bold. "Oh, come on. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be tied down to just one friend. You should let loose and have fun," he insisted, his words filled with a suggestive undertone.
I tried to end the conversation, giving him a firm but polite dismissal. "Thanks, but I'm good," I said, my tone leaving no room for further conversation. I discreetly inched closer to the bar, hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone.
Instead of taking the hint, he persisted. "Oh, come on. Don't be a party pooper. One drink won't hurt," he insisted, his words slurring even more. He took another step closer, trying to close the gap between us.
I felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance as his persistence continued. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, leaving a cloying odor on the air. I tried to maintain my composure, not wanting to cause a scene but also wanting him to back off.
He took another step closer, his gaze lingering on me. I could see the effects of the alcohol on him - the unsteady steps, the glazed look in his eyes, the clumsy attempts at charm. He reached out, attempting to touch my arm, his gesture too familiar and unwelcome.
The guy got annoyed when I backed away. He reached out, his hand grabbing my arm with a firm grip, trying to pull me back. I felt a jolt of fear as he attempted to drag me.
His hold tightened, his voice a mix of frustration and insistence. "Come on, don't you know how to have fun? Just one drink, a little chat." He tugged at me, his alcohol-fueled stubbornness evident.
I felt a mix of panic and defiance. "Let me go, you sick prick!" I exclaimed, my voice strained. I glanced around, hoping for someone to intervene, but every face seemed lost in their own world, oblivious or uncaring about the situation. The loud music blared, making it seem as if no one could hear my cries for help.
The guy gripped my arm tighter, his eyes filled with a mix of drunken determination. He leaned in closer, his face twisted with frustration. "Why are you making this so difficult? Just one drink, come on."
He forced me into an empty, private room, his grip on my arm still strong, leaving me with a sense of dread. The music was a distant throb outside, leaving me more isolated in this unsettling scenario.
His grip faltered as someone unexpectedly appeared, a figure entering the room with a decisive move. Before the guy could even think of pulling me fully into the room, someone intervened, delivering a well-aimed punch to his gut. The guy groaned, doubled over in pain as he released his grip on me.
The guy fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as the force of the blow rippled through him. Confusion, pain, and shock replaced the smugness from before. I could only watch, relief washing over me as I realized I wasn't alone anymore.
The drunk guy, overwhelmed by the combination of alcohol and the punch, scrambled to his feet before stumbling out of the room, whimpering in pain. The sudden exit left me alone with the mysterious person who had stepped in to save me.
Lando rushed towards me, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion. The warm green in his eyes held a mix of worry and relief that I was alright.
He reached for my arm where the drunk guy had grabbed me before, inspecting the area to check if I was hurt. I could feel the tenderness as he gently ran his fingers over the spot, ensuring I was unharmed. Lando then gazed at my face, studying it for any signs of distress.
I gently pulled my hand away, forcing a small smile to reassure him. "I'm okay," I insisted, my voice steady but guarded. His concern was palpable, and I could see the relief in his eyes as he saw that I was not physically harmed.
Lando seemed desperate, unwilling to let me leave just yet. He reached for my arm again, his grasp gentle but firm. "Please, just hear me out," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.
My response came sharp, biting. "Why would I? You didn't try to reach out, didn't try to find me, or even show an ounce of concern until now," I shot back, my words laced with bitterness and resentment.
Lando's response came with a mix of frustration and hidden emotion. "I haven't tried? Since our last talk, I've done everything I could to win you back," he retorted, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability. "Who do you think sent you all those gifts? Who else would know your work schedule, your favorite foods, your love for poems? I know I said I hated them, but for you, I embraced them."
His words were layered with hurt and a desire for reconciliation. Lando finally confessed, "It was me, all along. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever, so I hoped my gestures would speak for me." The pain in his face was evident, his eyes pleading for understanding.
I stammered at his words, a mixture of surprise and confusion overwhelming me. Never in my entire life I would've thought Lando would do all of this for me. My mind raced as I tried to comprehend the lengths he had gone to reach me.
My voice trembled as I spoke, "So... you were behind those text messages as well? How...? But I blocked all your accounts, even the new ones. How did you manage to send me messages?"
Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine as he confessed. "I bought a new phone with a different SIM card... just so I could message you." His answer hung in the air, the weight of his dedication palpable in the quiet space of the room.
He continued, his voice earnest, "I couldn't bear the silence between us, the distance. Even if you blocked me everywhere, I had to find a way to reach you, to express how I felt." The depth of his yearning and determination to keep the connection alive was evident in each word.
I remained silent, overwhelmed by his confession. Lando had gone to great lengths just to communicate with me, buying a new phone and SIM card, defying my attempts to cut off contact. The depth of his dedication was both touching and overwhelming. I couldn't deny the mix of emotions swirling within me.
Lando stood there, his eyes searching mine, desperate for a glimmer of hope. The air hung heavy with anticipation as he awaited my reaction, his vulnerability on full display, his heart on his sleeve.
I grappled for a response, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I... I'm still processing this," I managed to utter, my voice filled with a mix of hurt and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why let me think you didn't care?" I blurted out, a hint of betrayal seeping into my voice.
Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his shoulders slouching slightly. "I was afraid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of being rejected, scared that you would push me away if I tried to talk to you and most importantly scared you would've moved on. I thought sending those gifts and messages would be a way to reach out without directly risking rejection."
I stared at him, taken aback by his honesty. His confession laid bare his fears and insecurities, exposing the vulnerability beneath his usually composed facade. But my hurt remained, the sting of his silence lingering.
I couldn't hide my feelings, and I let my resentment spill out. "But you let me suffer!" I cried out, the pain pouring out in my words. "I thought you didn't care, that you moved on, while I was here, hurting over our broken relationship."
Lando's face contorted with pain at my outburst, his shoulders sinking lower. He took a step forward, bridging the gap between us. "I know, I know," he pleaded, his voice filled with regret. "I was a coward. I let fear dictate my choices, and I hurt you in the process. I'm sorry."
I wanted to believe him, to fall into the comfort of his apology and the sweet gestures he had made, but the wounds of the past remained. The memories of his silence, his refusal to communicate, and the pain I endured still weighed heavily on my heart.
Lando saw the hesitance in my eyes, noticed the barrier I had put up. His expression pleaded with me, a mixture of sorrow and yearning. I could tell he wanted me to forgive him, to let him back in.
"Lando, I'm so conflicted," I confessed, my voice cracking. The wounds of the past still fresh, I couldn't let go easily. "How can I trust that you won't hurt me again? I've suffered so much because of you, how can I be sure you won't do something like this again?" I asked, hoping for an answer that would quell my doubts. The pain was still too raw to simply forgive and forget.
Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his face a mask of sorrow and guilt. He knew he had caused me pain and had no right to expect forgiveness so easily. He stepped closer, the gap between us becoming smaller. With a gentle voice, he spoke. "I don't ask for you to trust me instantly," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't make the same mistakes again. Please, just give me a chance to show you."
I held his gaze, my eyes pleading for understanding. "I need some time," I implored, my voice shaky. "I can't just forget overnight. Give me the space to process everything, to heal." The emotions coursing through me were overwhelming, and I needed time to make sense of the rollercoaster of events.
Lando's response was gentle and resolute. "I will wait for you. Remember, even if it takes ten years," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."
I looked back at Lando, his pleading eyes yearning for a reprieve. With a heavy heart, I whispered, "Goodbye," and reluctantly turned away. The music and lights faded as I weaved through the crowd, searching for my best friend who had remained oblivious to the emotional storm that had just unfolded between Lando and me.
I found my best friend in the crowd, her smile lighting up upon seeing me. However, her smile quickly faded as she saw the tears streaming down my face. Without a word, she stood up, concern etched on her face.
She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me towards the exit. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with understanding. "Let's go home."
We stepped out of the club, the cool outside air a stark contrast to the stifling heat inside. We hailed an Uber, and my bestie decided to spend the night to provide comfort and lend an ear.
We settled into the car, the soft hum of the engine accompanying us as we made our way home. I took a deep breath, preparing to recount the tumultuous events of the evening to my best friend.
The Uber pulled up in front of my building, and we disembarked, the night's cool air a stark reminder of the emotional journey I had been through. We made our way into my house, the silence between us filled with anticipation.
We entered my house, the familiarity of the space providing a semblance of comfort. My bestie guided me to the couch, pulling a blanket over us as we settled in for what was sure to be a long night of conversation.
I poured my heart out, recounting every detail, from Lando's apology to the painful memories that still lingered. My best friend listened intently, her eyes widening in surprise and shock as she took in the emotional rollercoaster I had described.
She was stunned, her face reflecting the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded. "Wow," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe he did all that."
My voice trembled with uncertainty, "I don't know what to do," I confessed, my emotions a tumultuous mess. "I want to trust him, but it's so hard to ignore the pain he caused. It feels like a never-ending cycle of confusion and fear." I rested my head on my friend's shoulder, seeking solace in her presence.
She rubbed my back soothingly, her support an anchor that kept me from drifting further into despair. In a gentle yet reassuring tone, she spoke. "It's okay to feel conflicted. Trust is earned, and forgiveness takes time. Don't rush yourself. Take whatever time you need to figure out what you want." She held me closer, offering her presence as a grounding force amidst the chaos.
My best friend posed the question that echoed within me, "Do you still love him?" The question sliced through the air, digging deep into emotions I had tried to bury.
Hesitantly, I met her gaze, tears glistening in my eyes. "I… I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
My friend's words were honest, cutting through the confusion. She persisted, "That isn't an answer, y/n. It's a simple yes or no question." I remained silent for a long moment, my emotions swirling inside. Finally, after an excruciating pause, I whispered, "Fine, yes. Yes, I still love him." The admission hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.
My best friend looked at me, her eyes mirroring a mixture of understanding and support. "Give him a chance," she urged, her voice gentle yet firm. "Don't give in immediately. See how far he's willing to go. If he goes beyond just gifts and gestures, you'll know he's sincere.''
A wave of confusion washed over me, and I turned to her for clarification. "What do you mean, 'beyond gifts and gestures'?" I inquired, the words tumbling out in a whispered plea for understanding.
She seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment, then met my gaze with an earnest expression. "I mean, beyond just grand gestures. Beyond the gifts and the poems. Love is about more than just gestures. It's about genuine care, about being there for each other, through every high and low. It's about trust and communication. Those are the true tests of sincere love," she replied, her words wise and heartfelt.
She continued, her voice steady. "If Lando truly cares about you, he will show it in every aspect of his life, not just with grand gestures. He will prioritize your needs, respect your boundaries, and be there for you, even in the most ordinary moments."
Her words resonated within me, their truth echoing in my heart. It didn't matter if he had sent flowers or sweet poems. Love wasn't just about gifts; it was about presence, understanding, and unwavering support through life's tumultuous journey.
We continued talking for hours, my best friend's words sinking deep into my thoughts. Eventually, we decided to call it a day, both exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster. My mind whirled with questions as we prepared to say our goodnights.
Lando's dedication persisted. In the days that followed, his gestures remained constant. I noticed flowers and chocolates carefully placed on my desk each morning, a poem hidden amidst the petals, and a warm coffee waiting when I arrived in the morning, exactly how I liked it.
Today it was different. I heard a knock on my office door, I replied with a simple 'come in' as the person entered. Lando stood in my office doorway, his hands holding my favorite coffee and a neatly prepared lunch. He spoke softly, concern in his voice.
"I hope I'm not interrupting, but I know you can get forgetful about your nutrition while working. So I brought you something." The gesture warmed my heart, leaving me momentarily speechless.
His willingness to break away from his busy schedule, solely to ensure I took care of myself, touched me deeply.
"Thank you," I expressed gratefully, touched by his thoughtfulness. I had to ask him, curious about the sacrifice of his valuable time. "But aren't you busy? You still made time for this?"
Lando responded, his voice gentle yet sincere. "I'm busy," he admitted. "But I make time for you because you matter to me."
His simple yet powerful response struck a chord within me. In the midst of the busyness of life, he had made time for me, prioritizing my wellbeing. It spoke volumes about his devotion and care, that he was willing to sacrifice his valuable time just to ensure I wasn't neglecting myself.
The sincerity in his eyes and the way he stood in my office doorway, a small lunch in hand, felt overwhelming. It was as if he was trying to prove that he valued our connection more than the hustle and bustle of life.
In the weeks that followed, Lando's gestures became an integral part of my routine. He arrived at my office each morning with my favorite coffee, not missing a single day, even when I forgot it myself. During lunch breaks, he carefully watched over me, ensuring I ate, sometimes even bringing me delectable meals he prepared himself. He began helping me with paperwork, even when he didn't have the expertise—a gesture that left me touched.
Once, when I found a mouse in my apartment, he came at 4 a.m., not hesitating for a moment despite having an early flight.
His devotion continued. In the midst of his travels, he remained constant in sending me thoughtful gifts. The distance didn't seem to matter as his love crossed time and continents.
With each passing day, my heart opened up a little more. His gestures filled my heart with a mix of gratitude, warmth, and a hint of rekindling love.
It seemed like any ordinary day, with Lando on the other side of the world for a race. I was engulfed in my work, my focus solely on the paperwork, to the neglect of myself. Suddenly, my colleague Linda burst into my office.
Linda spoke with concern, her voice filled with worry. "You've been working nonstop. Come on, let's get something to eat." I protested, insisting on finishing my task first, but Linda's stern expression was unrelenting. I agreed reluctantly, rising from my seat. Little did I know, the world was about to spin.
As we walked, I started feeling dizzy, an unfamiliar sensation overtaking me. Linda's voice was heard from beside me. "Sweetheart are you alright?"
"No, no, I'm fine," I quickly reassured Linda, believing I had just stood up too quickly. Yet, before I could take another step, my world slipped away, and I plunged into the darkness of unconsciousness.
Linda witnessed the sudden collapse and hurried to my side, concern filling her voice. "y/n, are you okay?" she asked urgently, but I was unresponsive, the world around me fading into blackness.
The sound of voices echoed in the distance, Linda's voice calling my name. However, the comforting embrace of darkness held me captive.
As I emerged from the haze of unconsciousness, I felt a soothing yet firm hold on my hand. I groaned softly, my eyes slowly creaking open, reluctantly adjusting to the stark brightness of my surroundings.
As my vision cleared, I realized I was in a hospital room. The sterile environment, the soft hum of medical equipment, and the distinctive smell of antiseptic filled the air. I heard someone calling my name, I turned my head, my gaze drifting towards the source of the voice that called my name.
I blinked, still in a state of surprise to see Lando beside me. He looked at me with concern, his presence unexpected given that he was supposed to be on the opposite side of the globe. He spoke urgently, "How are you feeling? Should I call for a doctor?" His worry was evident in his eyes as he waited for my response.
Amidst the haze of confusion and exhaustion, my mind clung to one question. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice weak but filled with surprise. "You're supposed to be on the other side of the world."
His response caught me off guard, touching my heart amidst the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm you're emergency contact," he reminded me, and the realization set in.
He had crossed continents and time zones, arriving swiftly on his private jet, driven by his concern for my well-being. I had been asleep for 12 hours, and in that timeframe, he had made his way across the globe to be by my side.
The depth of his commitment touched my heart. Despite the demands of his career, he had flown across the world to be by my side, prioritizing my well-being above everything else. The knowledge that he was my emergency contact made a surge of warmth flow through me. It was a reminder of my significance in his life and the lengths he would go to for me.
I tried to compose myself, my voice still weak, I told him, "You shouldn't have done this. You have important things to attend."
Guilt tugged at me, knowing he had sacrificed his commitments to be here. His racing schedule, his career, everything seemed secondary to his concern for me in that moment.
Lando shook his head, his expression resolute. "I don't care, none of it matters as much as you do," he insisted, his gaze filled with sincerity. He reached out to gently hold my hand, his touch comforting. "Nothing is as important as you," he repeated, emphasizing his priorities.
His words struck a nerve, causing a mix of emotions to rise within me. Tears welled up in my eyes, his unwavering devotion filling me with a combination of gratitude and sorrow. I had doubted him, feared a lack of commitment, yet here he was, proving me wrong in the most dramatic way possible.
His presence in the hospital room, despite the distance he traveled, felt surreal. The sound of medical equipment beeping in the background seemed distant compared to the intense emotions swirling between us. Lando held my hand, his touch warm and reassuring.
In that moment of tender silence, Lando spoke again. His voice was soft, carrying a mix of concern and affection. He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. "I was so worried," he admitted, his eyes locked on mine. "Seeing you here in the hospital... was terrifying."
His eyes mirrored the vulnerability he rarely displayed, raw emotions laid bare. The fear he had felt, the concern that gripped him, all visible in his expression. The reality of the situation weighed heavily between us, his emotions palpable and sincere.
I offered a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worries, though the weakness in my voice betrayed my fatigue. "I'm okay," I whispered, exhaustion evident in my words. My weak hand attempted to squeeze his in return, hoping to show my gratitude despite my physical state.
Lando's grip on my hand tightened, his thumb tracing comforting circles on my skin. His gaze remained focused on me, studying my face, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He was skeptical of my reassurance, his worry etched on his furrowed brow.
We delved into conversation, discussing random topics, our worries fading into the background. Our chat was filled with laughter and genuine connection. However, our peaceful moment was interrupted when the doctor entered the room for a routine check-up. The doctor informed me that I was discharged, giving me the okay to leave.
Lando assisted me in gathering my belongings, the tenderness in his gestures evident. He carried my bag and carefully guided me out of the hospital room. We paced side by side, making our way to Lando's car parked outside.
We traveled in a soothing silence, the weight of the hospital now off our shoulders. As we reached my place, Lando diligently helped me bring my belongings inside and prepared to leave. But before he could go, he paused and called my name, the sound breaking the tranquility.
I turned my attention his way, meeting his eyes with curiosity. "Yes?" I responded, wondering what was on his mind. His voice had held a hint of hesitation, as if there was something important he wanted to convey.
He inhaled sharply, the weight of his question becoming apparent. He spoke with vulnerability, "There's something I want to ask you. You're free to refuse, but I genuinely want to ask... Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?"
I was initially startled, but the anticipation in his eyes was evident. He swiftly added, "Only if you want it to be a date of course" I could see the sincerity in his gaze. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I accepted his invitation, my voice steady with anticipation. "Yes."
The relief and happiness that washed over Lando's face at my acceptance were evident. His shoulders relaxed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You'll go on a date with me?" he asked, a mix of surprise and joy in his tone. "Really?"
The vulnerability in Lando's voice hinted at the significance of my acceptance. He was eager to hear my confirmation once more, his eyes glimmering with hope. I smiled warmly, reassuring him, "Yes, I'll go on a date with you."
We bid each other good night, both feeling the exhilaration of the upcoming date. The way we acted mirrored that of teenagers experiencing their first date, a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. As we exchanged a final glance, our connection felt like a magnetic pull, both eager for the moment to come. The goodbye lingered for a few moments, filled with electricity.
The evening of our date arrived, and my best friend was diligently working on styling my hair, while I focused on applying my makeup. She fussed over my locks, while I carefully applied concealer and mascara to enhance my eyes. My outfit hung on the closet's door, chosen for the evening. The weight of my excitement made my heart flutter in anticipation of the night ahead.
My best friend, brushing through my hair as she styled it, spoke up. "You know, Lando really went above and beyond for you, don't you think he deserves a chance?" she said, emphasizing his efforts.
There was a pause as I met her gaze in the mirror, a mix of emotions coursing through me. I set down my mascara and turned to face her, the weight of her words settling.
She looked at me, waiting for my response, her eyes filled with a mix of encouragement and genuine concern. The reminder of Lando's efforts weighed heavily on my thoughts. He had shown dedication and cared for me, but my past fears and apprehensions lingered, making it hard to fully let go.
I took a moment, considering her words. Inhaling deeply, I nodded, offering a soft smile of agreement. "Yeah, I know," I admitted, my voice a mix of vulnerability and hope. "But it's... it's hard to trust after everything."
I voiced my intentions, my eyes glimmering with determination. "I want to give him a chance," I declared, my resolve strengthened. "Not just a chance, but an opportunity to show me that he's worth trusting." My past pain weighed heavily on my heart, but the hope in my voice was undeniable.
Her squeal of happiness filled the room, echoing her encouragement. "Oh my god, y/n! I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You're doing the right thing, giving him a shot. He'll make you so happy!"
She grinned, her excitement infectious. "I can feel it in my bones, this is gonna be great. He's going to sweep you off your feet."
We concluded our primping, with my best friend leaving with a parting "keep me updated, and good luck!" The anticipation in my stomach intensified, a mix of excitement and nerves gripping me. I took another glance in the mirror, taking in my appearance one last time.
I was wearing a black off shoulder dress, that hugged my curves nicely. I paired it with the famous uncomfy YSL heels and matching purse. My hair was styled in a beautiful blow out flowing over my shoulders. I sighed one more time before grabbing my stuff.
The doorbell echoed through the room, signaling Lando's arrival with its gentle tone. My heart leaped in my chest, his presence just outside my door.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and then opened the door. Lando stood there, his presence immediately filling the space, and warmth spread through my chest. He looked handsome, his well-groomed appearance evident, but it was his warm eyes and gentle smile that greeted me.
Lando stood before me, a bouquet of vibrant flowers in hand. His expression was one of awe, his words momentarily lost. He managed to compose himself and spoke, his voice filled with admiration. "You look absolutely stunning," he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of me.
The flowers were a beautiful display of color, their delicate petals reflecting the soft light of the hallway. Lando held them out, offering them to me like a bouquet of promises. I extended my hand, taking them with a soft smile, his compliment making my cheeks flush.
We walked out together, arm in arm, the cold evening air washing over us. Lando guided me to his car, opening the passenger door and helping me inside as a gentleman. As we settled in, the city lights danced outside, casting a cozy ambiance in the car.
We arrived at the restaurant, a charming Italian bistro with soft lighting and a cozy ambiance. Lando got out, rushing to open my door, offering a hand to help me out with a soft smile. The scent of fresh herbs and garlic filled the air, a promise of a delicious meal to come.
We stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around us. The atmosphere was romantic, with soft music playing in the background. Lando guided me to a table by the windows, pulling out my chair before taking a seat himself. Candles flickered on the table, casting a soft glow over everything.
We settled into our seats at the table, the ambiance around us serene and inviting. The waiter approached, greeting us warmly and setting menus before us. The scent of fresh bread and delectable aromas wafted from the kitchen, fueling the anticipation for the meal ahead.
Lando spoke with confidence, knowing my preferences. "What do you want to get?" he asked, but before I could respond, he answered himself, "No, I know already. Let me guess... the carbonara." A smile tugged at my lips as he remembered my favorites so effortlessly. I replied, "You know it," a mix of affection and appreciation filling my voice. His attention to detail and memories of things I liked made my heart swell with warmth.
The night unfolded, filled with lively conversation and laughter. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in our connection, the sound of others around us fading into the background. It felt as if the world had narrowed down to just us, an intimate bubble filled with shared laughter, stolen glances, and shared stories.
As the night drew to a close, neither of us wanted it to end. Lando paid for the meal, and I thanked him with genuine gratitude. We decided to take a stroll, drawn to a nearby bench that offered a view of the water. As we settled onto the bench, the gentle moonlight illuminated the night, casting a silvery glow over the water's surface.
I broke the comfortable silence, my voice soft and sincere. "Lando?" I began, my words carrying heartfelt appreciation. "I really enjoyed today. Thank you," I expressed, my eyes glimmering with warmth as I looked at him.
Lando met my gaze, a soft smile playing at his lips. He spoke with sincerity, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, his eyes mirroring the appreciation in mine. "It means the world to me that you had a good time. I truly enjoyed every moment with you."
I addressed the elephant in the room, acknowledging the immense effort he'd put in. "You know, you really have gone above and beyond for me these past months," I said, my tone sincere.
It had been a challenge to regain my trust, and Lando's consistent gestures had played a significant role in rebuilding it. His eyes glimmered with a mix of vulnerability and hope, absorbing my words.
Lando's voice was quiet as he responded, his tone sincere. "I know I have, but every moment of it was worth it," he confessed, his emotions clear in his eyes.
"I wanted to show you that you could trust me, that I would go to any lengths to earn your trust," he added, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and earnestness.
I continued, my questions flowing out. "What about after we get back together? Would you still care about me like this" I inquired, my eyes searching his.
Lando's expression shifted, vulnerability and sincerity mixing in his gaze.
"After we get back together, I want to cherish every moment even more," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to support you, care for you, and be there for you through anything. I want to keep building on the trust we have and make our relationship stronger than ever."
His sincere words found their way to my heart, a tenderness washing over me. The vulnerability in his expression, combined with his commitment to cherishing our relationship, stirred something within me.
I spoke up, my voice soft but filled with resolution. "I think," I began, "I'm ready to be yours again."
Lando stood up, his eyes wide with disbelief, his emotions overwhelming him. He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the bench in a tight embrace.
As he spun us around in a whirlwind of joy, he spoke with heartfelt conviction, "I won't disappoint you ever again. I love you so much."
His hands remained on my waist, a tender touch that seemed to anchor me. I felt a surge of warmth and contentment as I replied with a giggle that turned into laughter, sharing in Lando's excitement.
"I love you too, Lan," I confessed, my eyes glimmering with affection
Lando's grip on my waist tightened as he pulled me into a passionate kiss, a fusion of his emotions and desires. The softness of the moment contrasted with the intensity of our feelings, the kiss sending a surge of electricity through my body. I melted into his embrace, returning the kiss.
As the kiss intensified into a make-out session, I reluctantly pulled away, the reminder of Lando's fame echoing in my mind. However, Lando was unfazed, his response quick and resolute.
He shrugged off the potential consequences, insisting, "Let them see. I've got my girl back, and that's all that matters." His smile was filled with a mixture of certainty and passion as he pulled me back, their lips meeting once more in a toe-curling kiss that seemed to defy any outside concerns.
The moon shone down, lighting up the night as Lando wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, and we walked back to his car. The air held a delicate sense of anticipation, and as we drove away, I nestled my head against Lando's shoulder, feeling safe and cherished.
Gratitude and affection swelled within me as I realized I had given Lando another chance, and that my heart had bloomed open once again. I smiled, my thoughts swirling with appreciation and love for the incredible journey we were about to embark on.
The end
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