#i think it just makes it way more text heavy when i did the text chapters

[moody-alcoholic]

Freaky Friday

+18 explicit content

What am I trying this week... ✨ Orgasm denial and edging ✨ I haven’t done a freaky Friday in a while, since most of my ‘regular’ work has been quite porn heavy and I can only write so much porn before I become numb to it all and it all just reads the same. There are only so many ways you can skin a cat.

Summary: Price x reader, established relationship, 2.2k words. It’s straight up porn, Price comes home from deployment, cue making up for lost time.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. sex, exhibitionism (kinda), sending nudes/ sexy videos, oral (M reciving), fingering, orgasm denial, edging, PiV sex, overstimulation, little tiny bit of Mdom.

Part 1, Part 2 - Masterlist

Enjoy ya filthy animals <3

You’ve never missed anyone like this, like there’s a ache deep inside you. John had left about a week ago and you were missing him. He gave you a key to his apartment and asked you to water his plants. He has no plants at least not ones he needs watering. Instead you find yourself snooping through his drawers. He has pictures in his place, pictures of people from the army. There are no names, no pictures of younger people or what would look like family member's.

After 5 days of him being away you take your trusty pink vibrator and fuck yourself on his bed, riding his pillow moaning his name over and over again. You take a video obviously, who knows what he will think but you don’t care. After a day or so he messages you back, it’s simple, boring.

I’ll be back in a day, evening.

You’re excited, too excited you scrub your body within an inch of it’s life waxing every part of from head to toe. You’ve never spent this much time on getting ready for a man. When the evening comes and go's, the dark sky settles over London and you’re still waiting 2 glasses of wine deep. You don’t know what you’re expecting from him, a knock on the door a ‘hey I’m here’ text, nothing.

You’re starting to doze off on the sofa when the door bell rings. You spring up, tiredness gone as you rush over to the door pulling it open. A smile stretches on your face as you look up at John, his hands grab your shoulders pushing you into your flat.

“I’ve missed you.” He says sounding almost feral as he presses his lips against you. His hands are strong gripping your armpits hoisting you up. You wrap your legs round his hips as he takes you over to the kitchen table. You want to be in the bedroom, sprawled out on the bed as he fucks you hard.

You have a feeling he want’s to draw it out more, you’re not sure if you care it’s just nice feeling his hands on you again. His big strong hands that are working their way up your thighs, then you stomach, up your shirt, his fingers brush your nipples.

“That video you sent?” his breath, hot in your ear. 

“Inappropriate?” 

“Very.”

“Did you get caught?” You ask raising your arms so he can take your shirt off.

“Almost, my boys steal my phone sometimes.” His lips press against your neck, his tongue tracing down to your collar bone. You tip your head back. Your hands running up through his hair, gripping onto him as he sucks on your neck.

“I’ve missed you, your touch, your lips.” You breathe grabbing his face pulling his lips to you. You push your tongue into his mouth drinking him up as his hands cup your breasts, you can feel his cock pressing up against you. 

You want to claw it out his pants, his hands move to grip your waist holding you in place. You lean back trying to grind your hips towards him, desperate for any kind of friction. He holds you back his thumbs digging into your pelvis pushing you away from him, teasing you, keeping you away from what you want. 

“John, I need you.” You beg. 

“I know baby, but you teased me so much, it’s only fair I keep you waiting.” You smile, so he did like the video. A chuckle leaves your mouth.

“I need you.” You beg. A long breath leaves his mouth. 

“I know.” He says his thumps slipping past your waistband. You hitch yourself up on your hands so he can pull your pyjama bottoms off. You’re glad you skipped the underwear as your bear ass hits the cold table. You spread your legs apart from him. Hes almost licking his lips and his fingers press on your clit. You moan at the contact wrapping an arm round his neck and leaning back. His palm presses down on you as his fingers circle your entrance. 

“So fuckin’ perfect.” He breathes. He presses two fingers in you your head tips back. 

“Yes John,” you say looking back down at him trusting his fingers into you, curling them up to press on that oh so sweet spot. You’re not going to last like this his hands being on you. Your breathing increasing as you angle your hips for him to better press into. His palm bouncing against your swollen clit. 

“John.” 

“You close baby?” He asks in your ear you nod in reply. He moves to look a you smiling, he pulls his fingers out as you whine in protest. You look up at him wide eyed. He brings his fingers up to you mouth pressing them through your lips. You open for him tasting yourself on him sucking them clean. You hum as he takes them out moving his fingers back down your clit, rubbing little circles. 

“John please,” you’re begging already, you really have missed him. You grip his neck but as soon as you’re about go cum he pulls his fingers away. You whine again letting out a frustrated sigh. 

“The only time you’ll be cuming is on my cock.” He whispers low in your ear sending shivers down your spine. He steps back and you jump off the table following him into the bedroom. It turns into a slow sloppy make out session you’re falling over each other reaching under his shirt to feel each tight muscle. Your hands land on a bandage you pull away looking down. 

“Its nothing,” he says pulling his shirt off over his head. You don’t believe him but you let your hands work down to his belt. As you pull his trousers down, you can feel how hard he is through his boxers.

You kneel down licking your lips and you pull his cock out thrusting both your hands down his length pulling his foreskin back to reveal the red hot tip. If he’s going to tease you, you can tease him too. You bring his tip in your mouth, just the tip slowly licking your tongue around it before taking your mouth off completely. 

“Christ love,” he moans his hand resting on the top of your head. You squeeze the base of his cock with your hand as you continue to tease his tip, circling your tongue round it. You smile hearing the heavy sigh in his voice. He’s been away for well over a week and you’re sure now that video you sent probably made him suffer more. You did enjoy the thought of him late at night trying to be quiet fisting his cock while you’re humping his pillow telling him how much you miss him. 

Maybe he has his own office, he is a captain after all, maybe he wasn’t as desperate as you think. His hand grips your hair and before you know it he’s thrusting his hips and pushing your head, forcing you to take him all the way. It surprises you your eyes imminently start to water, okay maybe he was desperate. You pull your mouth back his hand still gripping your hair. 

“I’ve missed your mouth baby, you take me so well don’t you.” He says his hand coming down stroke your hair off your forehead. The praise makes your body tingle as you look up at him, moaning on his cock as a response. He likes that tipping his head back as you continue your effort to get back in control of the situation. It’s harder then it seems, his strong hands pressing your head down to take him all the way, the most you can do is flick your tongue over his tip which makes him shudder. 

“Christ, okay, on the bed.” He says pulling out your mouth leaving you with saliva dripping down your chin. You wipe it away with the back of your hand following his instructions and sitting on the end of the bed. He’s looking around for something. 

“I’m on the pill now, thought now would be a good time,” you say, he turns round smiling the biggest smile you think you’ve seen. He drops the pants he had in his hands and comes over to you his hands cupping your cheeks. He kisses you deep pressing his tongue against yours tasting himself on your lips. It’s hot and fast and has your pussy throbbing, your fingers betray you and you find them pressing on your clit for any release. He pulls away from the kiss seeing you touching yourself. You think he’s going to stop you but he just smiles.

“How ‘bout you ride me like you did in that video?” There’s an edge to his voice a glint in his eye. You nod, letting him lay on the bed before you swing your legs over his hips. His hands come up to your hips as your line yourself up with him. It takes a few seconds of awkward manoeuvring so you’re both comfortable before you slowly sit down on him. You let out a shaky groan as you feel him fill you up. As soon as you’re all the way down you rest your hands on his stomach careful to avoid his bandage.

You sit there for a few seconds feeling him twitch inside you before you move your hips back up. It’s not the same as grinding his pillow with your vibrator, it’s better, you feel so full, he hits a spot you can never seem to find. You don’t even care that he’s the one controlling the speed, you’re too blissed out panting and moaning his name as your fingers dig into his stomach. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good. Have you missed me?” He says you almost miss the second part enjoying the feeling of chasing the high he’s been keeping you from.

“Yes, so much-” You don’t get to finish, you tip your head back moaning out. John pulls you down on him and locks your hips in place with his hands. Fuck he did it again, how does he know. You look down at him smiling. 

“John, please.” You whine running your hands up his chest leaning over him. He chuckles his hands leaving your hips and wrapping round your body. He presses you against him, as he thrusts his hips into you. Everything feels so tight, it’s too much, maybe you didn’t wait long enough, but you don’t care. 

“John-” you breathe clenching around him.

“No, not yet you can hold it.” He breathes in your ears before releasing you from his grip. You sit up almost instantaneously. His thrusting stopped leaving you desperate yet again. You moan in frustration, bouncing up and down, each stroke has you shaking teetering on the edge.

A slight increase of speed or a different angle and you wouldn’t be able to hold back. He can tell too, just laying there watching you fuck yourself on him, desperately trying to reach the peak. He could stop you again any time, leave you wanting more and more.

“Just like that.” He says, his voice low and grumbling as his hands come back to your hips. “Such a good girl.” Even the praise is too much, you feel yourself slowly speeding up. He doesn’t stop you in fact he brings one of his hands to thigh reaching down and resting his thumb on your clit. With each thrust his thumb presses just the right amount of pressure to have your legs shaking.

You know next time you’re not going to be able to hold back. You go back to letting him control the speed too focused on all the senses running through your body almost to the point of overstimulation. You can’t hold it anymore but you don’t want him to stop. 

“John, please,” you breath tipping your head and closing your eyes. He hums almost like he’s thinking, holding you there right on the edge. 

“Please what?” he asks. 

“Can I cum?” 

“‘Cause baby.” It almost sounds too good to be true, you open your eyes looking down at him. He’s still controlling the speed, you let him arching your back as you cum. It feels different after being on the edge for so long, denied so many times. It starts deep in your core working outwards as you shiver clenching down on him. He doesn’t stop only moving his thumb digging his fingers into your thighs as he cums too.

Even though it’s all almost too much you don’t stop even when he does, throbbing inside you, filling you up as you work him through the orgasm. You don’t stop until you’re satisfied, chasing every second, even when his cock twitches from overstimulation and his moans turn into whines. You watch his face change his mouth hanging open. You lean down kissing him, his arms warp around you pulling you down onto the bed with him. 

“I really have missed you.” You say as you break from the kiss. His hand comes up to brush hair out your face. 

“Yeah, I missed you too.” He replies. 

“So what happened?” You ask nodding at the bandage on his stomach. 

“How about a nice hot shower then I’ll tell you all about it?” 

“Okay.” You nod. 

[nxtaliaistyping]

Tim drake + recording sex 👀? Or like FaceTime sex? 👀

FaceTime sex with Tim Drake <3

18+ nsfw, fem reader, sub tim because I couldn’t help myself :(

You’d often compared Tim to something akin to a puppy. Not in a derogatory way of course, it’s just the way he was. He was just so desperate to please, so happy to make you happy, and especially so excited to see his beloved all the time. So naturally he doesn’t like to leave you for any stretch of time.

But when his brother Dick had offered for them both to have some bonding time in Blüdhaven, he couldn’t say no (and of course by bonding time, you know that really means beating up whatever drug gang Nightwing had been tracking together.)

However now, as Tim lays in the bed in the posh hotel Bruce had insisted on paying for him to stay in, he realises how right you are. He does feel like a needy puppy, his cock rock hard in his boxers as he thought about how sweetly you kissed his cheek goodbye. It really did make him feel like a perv, but as you ask to FaceTime him so innocently over text, his fingers practically shake as he presses the call button.

“Hi babe.” He says quickly when you answer, trying to seem normal. You however, see straight through this deception.

So that’s how you get him to strip for you, with the promise of tugging your shirt up to reveal your tits. Glancing at your phone screen, your eyes are immediately drawn to his cock, leaky and red at the tip as he looks at you with slightly glassy eyes.

“M’sorry, I-i was just thinking about you and-“

“Awe.” You coo at him, rewarding him with the sight of your breasts. “Got that hard thinking about me?”

He nods, reaching down and grasping the base of his shaft. A slight hiss escapes him, and with a slight nod from you begins to move slowly up and down.

“Miss you so bad…” he breathes out, and the sincerity bleeds through his cadence.

“Miss you too Tim.”

“Can you…” he trails off, flicking his wrist over his cock head in the way that makes him shiver, “can you touch yourself too?”

Always one to please, you laugh softly at his request before relenting and tugging your bottoms off, fingers trailing between your legs. You prop your phone up so the camera can observe your whole body, making a show of tracing your fingertips up your inner thighs and rubbing a finger along your wet folds. All of this was worth it for the gasp that escapes your boyfriend’s lips.

“So pretty…god you’re so fucking pretty.” He gets out, hand increasing its pace over his dick.

You feel yourself flushing at the praise, now pleasuring yourself properly. “You too.”

There was something that felt so naughty, so taboo to be masturbating in front of the lense of your phone, knowing that Tim was on the other end doing the same thing for you.

“Fuck, miss you so badly. Baby I need you.” He says desperately, fucking his fist more vigorously now as your own fingers speed up.

“I know…I know, I miss you too.” You reply, eyes firmly on the way he touches himself. God you wish you could run your nails along his abs, feeling his body shiver and writhe beneath you.

“Need you to ride me birdie, oh fuck.” His voice gets more and more desperate as his fantasies play out in the back of his mind. You on top, moving your hips rhythmically to feel his cock reaching the deepest and most delicious parts of you.

You both are moving so much your respective cameras rock and shake, but it doesn’t matter. So caught up in the sensations you both are feeling, emphasised by the visual of each other doing the same thing.

It’s Tim that finishes first, with a soft cry he spills all over his abdomen and hand. His breaths are heavy and stuttery, expansive chest heaving as he looks down at the mess he’s made. How sweet and vulnerable he looks just makes your cunt throb, fingers strumming against your clit with reckless abandon.

“Want you to cum.” He says, staring at your image on his screen while his fingers absentmindedly rub the cum on his skin.

It doesn’t take long before you cry out in pleasure, cumming for him just like he plead for. You remove your fingers, wet with your juices, before holding it up to the camera. His eyes go wide as he moves his phone closer. With a smirk, you lick your wetness off, causing a slight whimper to escape him.

“Baby…no fair.” He mutters, shifting as his spent cock is wracked by a pathetic twitch.

“Sorry.” You giggle, not meaning the apology whatsoever. “Can’t wait for you to be back.”

“Me neither. Gonna make you cum at least three times.”

“That a promise, pretty boy?”

He gives you a sleepy but cheeky grin. “A guarantee, birdie.”

[lovelyflora21]

Strangers

Summary: She was still herself, he was still him. In the same place. Yet, isn't it strange how people can change?

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: Angst, hurt, no happy endings (?) 

A/n: A rather lengthy continuation to my previous fic, inspired by Celeste - Strange. Would recommend listening to the song whilst reading this to really get the feel of it ;)

Wc: 1,8k

P.s. Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tag list! <3

Tag list: @lysa1201 @lysol1201

I tried for you. 

What Leon said that night, the way he looked at her with complete utter disdain; mixed with a cacophony of heavy breathing and slurred speech of spiteful, venomous words spewed her way–safe to say, it was enough to turn that tiny little voice inside her head louder. Ten times louder than the conscience, the soft spot she’s always held for him. 

That maybe everything she did for him was, in fact, all in vain. That it was a complete waste. She was wasting her precious, precious time and energy; her life, on a drunkard. An asshole of an alcoholic, once applauded for his bravery and prowess as an agent–akin to that of America’s very own zombie-killing, man-made Superman. 

God, mama was right! I should’ve dumped him. What was I thinking?!

Were what had crossed her mind as she skipped down the stairs of his apartment’s fifth floor’s stairwell. She clung onto her bag and pride, more on her pride (what was left of it anyways) than her bag really, as she rummaged through the tote bag for her car keys. She had tears welling up in her eyes, her throat burning and constricting in a measly effort of holding herself together. From sobbing her poor heart out. From breaking down on the stairs and pitying herself.

Tried to see through all the smoke and dirt. It wouldn't move.

Everything else was a blur then. The drive back home. The whole thought process on deciding to finally and completely vanishing from his life. All that in a span of minutes. Most would criticize her for being too overboard with her impulsivity, for making a big deal out of nothing! 

Oh spare me the theatrics! She could still hear Leon’s voice; nagging in the back of her mind, it would have been his reaction, if he had known of what she was about to do to him or saw an ounce more of her true reaction in response to his cruelty. 

But as she drove through the traffic and streets of DC’s avenues, her heavy-with-tears eyes dropped to see his name popping up on her phone; his number texting and calling her numerous times–his picture flashing, showing off his stupid fucking cocky grin–it silenced the other voices that were doubting her decision. And suddenly what she was about to do was justified and she saw nothing wrong with it. 

So when it turned red, she reached for her phone; looked at his number and picture one last time before she blocked it–blocked him, and shoved the phone back inside the bag. 

The first night, she couldn’t cry at all. She tossed and turned in bed then eventually fell asleep. But the next few days? Oh they were torture. Hardly sleeping, hardly eating; the blunt of the impact finally hitting her head on. Her feelings, emotions and sound mind were colliding against one another. Everything was everywhere all at once. Anger, disappointment, hurt, sadness, grief and shame. Surging all at once then fading away just as quick into numbness and denial. Then she’d crash out again, and again, and again. Rinse and repeat. 

So she did what Leon S Kennedy would’ve done. Drown herself in work, overtime after overtime. Back to back meetings, projects, RnDs. Anything to get her mind off of him and that night. One thing for sure though, she was done. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Before she knew it, she earned herself a promotion, alongside an offer to relocate somewhere else; she was given the liberty to pick the spot. To pick which branch of her office she would be relocating to. 

Without doubt and further, deeper questioning; she said yes. Again, some would have considered her impulsivity a major flaw but to be fair, this was the opportunity she had been looking for. Especially after that night and after Leon. 

Albeit the suffering and grief it brought upon her; that night brought her an epiphany. A revelation, that her whole life had revolved around him and him alone. She was never the center of her own universe, no–it had been Leon. 

It was a mistake. 

So now, with Leon gone and out of the picture; she had nothing to revolve around. There was nothing left for her here anyways…

She was never one for spirituality but it got her thinking– that the opportunity presented itself just in time. It was perfectly aligned with her, as if the universe had given her its blessings to move forward. Even without him.

As if it was a way for the universe to tell her.

He’s very dreamy, but he is not the sun. You are.

So when it was all said and done, when everything’s packed into the back of a moving truck and she’d bid farewell to friends and colleagues; she moved. Out of DC and to Francisco. 

And things were okay again. Late nights weren’t so heavy and she wasn’t so burdened with all-consuming thoughts of him. Mornings came by easier for her. She began liking the way coffee smelt, the way the flowers bloomed and the plants flourish, she began liking the taste of sourdough bread with runny eggs on top.

Casual dates were a thing for her now. Enjoying herself and her time as an individual rather than a thing attached to him. 

And before she knew it, a year had passed. 

Life was great. She was flourishing, bright and blooming. 

The sun was high above, her locks cascaded like waters down her neck. She wore a white dress, the patterns were small flowers in the color of muted salem. She had the day off, needed to pick up on groceries and flowers for her vase in the living room and kitchen island. She’d grown to fall for flowers ever since she’d moved to Francisco. 

As she was looking at the arrangement of fruits set before her, smiling at the older lady; she couldn’t help but to notice a man staring at her then approaching her. 

Hey there.

So when her eyes found him, clad in blue instead of black; they widened for a second. Taking in the phantom of what once was the man she’d loved and devoted herself to. 

They stood there, just…staring…

Then there was silence. 

Say, isn't it strange? I am still me You are still you.

—

So they sat there, across one another. This was their second meeting. In a cafe, her favorite. She’d suggested the place. They opted for the outdoor seating instead, feeling as though the walls around them were too overwhelming for her. Too suffocating, especially when she would be near him. 

Her white shirt was slightly crumpled, tucked inside her blue denim jeans that clung to her perfectly. Her bag was set by her ankle, under the table.

She crossed one leg over the other, her eyes never leaving Leon’s. Who had his own ocean blue eyes on her.

Leon had begged her for this chance. Said he wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her. And she gave him the same grace she would’ve wanted people to give him. Less of a second chance and more towards the urge for a proper closure, really. 

Leon Scott Kennedy was never one to be curious. He’d learnt from his line of work that curiosity can and will kill the cat. And yet when it came to her, he was as curious as ever. So many things he wanted to say, to ask, to question, to find out, to know and last but never should be the least; to understand. Why did she disappear on him like that? Where has she been?Why San Francisco? How did she end up here? Is she with someone else? Is that why she was here now? Was she now a happily-married woman living the white picket fence dream?

But only one thing came out of his now slightly chapped-lips and dry mouth.

I am so sorry. 

Back to our roots What did we lose? What did we lose?

He began, stammering as he leant forward across the table that barred him from feeling her warmth. From feeling her kindness, her love, her tenderness and the familiarity of her.

It’s in the past.

Her voice was…soft. But it lacked the love and gentleness she once held for him. Her eyes were distant…as if staring at a far away dream instead of him.

I shouldn’t have said what I said, I was an alcoholic and an asshole and I didn’t deserve you.

You really didn’t. 

Then there was silence again. Leon’s breath caught as he heard her utter those simple words with such indifference it sent shivers down his spine. 

There was no malice, no anger, no bitterness lacing her words yet all the same it wounded him so. In ways he never thought nor imagined possible. 

Isn’t it strange? How people can change. 

Give me one more chance, let me make things right. 

His pleading was met with silence. Then there was a soft tapping noise against the table, Leon’s blue orbs flitted to her manicured nails for a second before coming back to her face. They were painted beige.

If I could, I’d pull your strings for one more dance.

I…I’ve changed. I’m not drinking anymore and I’ve been going to therapy and I’m not missing out on them anymore. I swear.

It was pitiful how he dragged on and on about how he was a changed man. But seeing she was not budging at all, made Leon’s stomach twist and turn. 

I can’t.

Tell me what I need to do to make this work, to make things right.

She simply shook her head, a defeated and reserved smile graced her lips. God, those same lips Leon had missed so much. How he wished he hadn’t taken her for granted. 

It’s for the best.

And with that, she gathered her bag and herself. She mustered up enough courage and willpower to heave herself up to her feet. Even outside with the wind breezing past them and the world still revolving around them, she felt just as suffocated and as still as ever. She refused to look him in the eyes, refused to study the way his face fell and his eyes glazed with tears. 

I look at you, with nothing to say.

Leaning down for one last kiss, she placed a chaste and small peck on his cheek. Feeling the stubble caress her skin and mouth. She dared not bid him farewell, nor did he. Neither lovers dared to lift their faces to meet one another’s gaze, afraid it might shatter whatever defense they had left.

Isn’t it strange? How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers

So she walked away, never looking back. 

And strangers again.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter one:

➴ warnings: shitty mom.

➴ word count: 2.6k

➴ author’s note: and finally, the first chapter of TYPA is here. i wanted to post this only when i had at least the first five chapters ready so you guys wouldn’t wait too long for updates, so thank u all for waiting. again, i cannot stress this enough: read the story’s warnings before reading the story!!! aaand i love u all!!! (also thank u for 200+ followers? insane!)

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

YOUR ALARM went off at half past five, and you grunted, smacking it with your right hand, trying to make it stop yelling.

After you turned it off, you laid your bed on your pillow again, sighing. Turning your head to the side, you watched as Bella snored like she paid all of your bills and worked a nine to five everyday. You smiled, happy to see her so relaxed.

You got up, put on your slippers and walked to your bathroom, turning on the lights and regretting immediately after, because your eyes took a long time to adjust to the bright, white light.

You opened the tap, putting in warm water and gently wetting your face, before closing it and grabbing your cleanser and starting your morning skincare routine.

Even though you loved to stay in bed, there was something about the early hours of the day. You could go on with your morning with no one bothering you, just working on the steps of completing your morning routine with ease, while the world was still asleep outside— even though Los Angeles never got entirely asleep.

You can wash your face and apply your moisturizer, before stepping in the shower after letting your skin absorb the products. Then, you can scrub your body and exfoliate it, humming to this week’s top song on Spotify charts. You can dry yourself with your fluffiest towel, smear your skin with your favorite vanilla scented body lotion and perfume.

Then, you can wake Bella up, and force her to leave your bed so you can make it. She’ll growl and bark at you, but in the end she’ll be too eager to go outside to do anything else.

You’ll change into your outfit of the day, something cozy, and grab your keys before leaving the house with Bella by your side, taking her to the dog park your apartment complex has, and let her enjoy the synthetic grass while you stare at her, smiling from ear to ear.

You’ll both stay there for ten minutes, with you talking to her about everything and anything, while she sniffs around the place and answers your yapping with occasional barks.

Then, you’ll call her name and go back to your place, starving for food. You’ll make your breakfast, nothing too heavy— a cup of green tea and a yogurt bowl.

You’ll leave your house at sometime around seven a.m., after grabbing everything you’ll need for the day and saying goodbye to Bella, telling her that her dog sitter, Carly, will be there in just a few hours. You’ll get into the car your agency sent to you, greeting the driver and sitting in the back, checking the texts on your phone. And then, you will feel your heart stop inside your chest, because—

What the hell does she want? You thought, squeezing your phone so hard between your hands that, for a second, you thought you’d actually break it.

You haven’t seen your mom in a year. Or your family, for that matter. Your parents, your brother and Canada felt just like a distant, hurtful memory that you wanted to keep away from yourself, buried deep inside your heart.

After making your teenage years feel like hell, and after making you hate yourself in more ways you’d ever think possible, your mom got you signed at the most prestigious modeling agency in all LA, IMG Models. Some people online talked about how you were only the cover of last year’s VOGUE because you’re basically a Nepo Baby, and even though your social media team did their best to debunk those comments, you knew— everyone did— that they were right: you only reached the top that fast because you are the daughter of the editor-in-chief of Fashion and retired model, Jessica Carter.

Not that you weren’t pretty, no, you were. But your last name opened more doors for you than your face and body ever would.

But at the end, you were grateful to be living a normal life— as normal as it could get— away from Canada. That country held painful memories and people that you would much rather watch from afar.

You didn’t reply to her text, you didn’t need to. She made it very clear that your attendance wasn’t an option. Even at twenty-two years old, your mom would always have the final word.

You arrived on set ten minutes after reading that text, sad to have your good mood ruined. But you still had a long day of work ahead of you, so you should just do what you’re best at: pretending you’re fine.

You spent your entire morning at a photoshoot for Elle, posing for infinite pictures and changing as fast as you could, while trying your hardest not to focus on your mom’s text.

Glad to be working with people who were actually nice, you slipped into your work headspace and when you checked your phone again, it was lunch time.

Grabbing the biggest salad from the agency’s restaurant, you ate with no hunger or pleasure. Thinking of your life back in Canada made you sick.

After lunch, you were sent to another location so they could take more pictures of you, the photographer, Garret, making sure to get the right photos of you.

At six, you were ready to head back to home, but unfortunately, part of your job meant interacting with people on social media. Sometimes answering questions online, making TikToks or even posting on Instagram.

౨ৎ

maddiecarter

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maddiecarter @britishvogue 🧸

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avaholly she’s just so pretty i cant

justinpll looked at my gf and sighed

gio_hrris @helenhugo this yo boyfriend?

helenhugo @gio_hrris EX boyfriend now.

britishvogue Stunning 🤩

imgmodels you never disappoint bbg 😌

lisacoleman i love u thank u for blessing my feed

౨ৎ

“ARE YOU leaving already, darlin’?”

Nicholas’ voice echoed as you bend over to grab your purse.

Looking at him, you smiled, tiredly. “Yes, hum. Actually, I need to talk to you about something,” you took a step further, stopping in front of the man you've known as your boss the past four years.

“Yeah, go ahead.” He leaned against the wall, waiting.

“I need to have Friday off,” you started, biting your lip. “It’s a family thing. Promise I’ll be back on Monday.”

“Madison, you’re literally the only model here who hasn’t missed a work day for an entire year, maybe even more than that,” he laughs, blond hair moving as his head turns around. “If you want to take the entire week off, you’re allowed to.”

A week in Toronto? No, thank you.

“No, I just need Friday.” You replied, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“You’re free to go, my love. Send kisses to your mom, okay? Tell her to visit us sometime.”

“Of course, thank you.” You kissed his cheek quickly before heading back to the elevator.

On your way home, you thought about all of the things your mom might want of you. Sure, she said that she wanted the family to get together and all of that, but you’re sure there’s more to that. She wouldn’t make you fly to Canada just because she wants to have dinner with you. She’s just not that kind of person.

Entering your apartment, the first thing you did after removing your shoes was go looking for Bella, who had somehow managed to lock herself inside the guest's bathroom, and was whining loudly.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” you kissed her, petting her fur gently. “How did you even do that?”

She just licked you and you sighed, the long hours of work finally hitting you completely. You just needed to shower, drink your daily glass of warm milk and play with Bella for a while before going to bed.

Locking away all thoughts related to Canada, you followed your night routine like you’d usually do, trying your hardest to let the people you buried years ago stay away like you wanted them to.

[ellraiser]

gotta catch 'em all!!!

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

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

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[maxtermind]

baby, would i still be your lover?

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔

Max Verstappen

Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.

It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.

"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."

"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.

He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.

"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."

"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."

He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.

"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"

You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.

"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."

"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"

He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?

"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.

"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."

You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.

“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”

The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.

Lewis Hamilton

How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high

Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.

You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.

You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.

After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.

“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”

Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.

“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”

He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.

“You know how it is once the season starts.”

“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”

“Missed me?”

He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.

"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."

The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.

“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.

However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.

“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."

Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.

It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.

You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.

You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.

"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”

"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."

"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."

“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."

"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.

"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"

“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.

You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.

“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.

“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.

“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.

Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”

You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.

Charles Leclerc

Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.

He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.

Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.

It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.

This time it was pissing you off greatly.

"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.

Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.

“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”

“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”

And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.

"But we've been together almost a year?”

"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."

"Do you think she has feelings for you?”

There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.

"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"

The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?

“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”

“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”

Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.

"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"

Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."

Lando Norris

No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.

However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.

You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.

Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.

Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.

You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."

"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.

That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.

It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.

“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.

“What?”

“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”

"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."

"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”

Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.

“They were all strangers to me and you didn’t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.

“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”

Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.

He knew what he said was unacceptable.

You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.

He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.

“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”

With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[baby-yongbok]

OnlyFans

Best Friend!Yang Jeongin x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre: Friends to Lovers - non-idol - [18+ Only]

✦ Content Description: 6.6k + 11 screenshots

✦ Summary: Your best friend finds out about your OnlyFans account which leads to you discovering how you really feel about him.

✦ CW: Unintentional exhibitionism(?), Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people] ✦ A/N: This is my FIRST Jeongin fic and I am hella excited! (and nervous) I really hope that you enjoy it! This is a hybrid of fake texts and story so make sure to open it all the way to see it all! AHH I'm so nervous.+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ✧ Masterlist ✧

Sleep abandoned you after you and Jeongin spoke, your thoughts were everywhere and nowhere and your body was working against you. Why does the fact that your best friend thinks that you’re hot turn you on? Why are you imagining him touching himself to the sounds of you moaning while you fuck yourself?

 Is he big? 

How would he feel? 

Wait - how did he not recognize your voice? 

You never show your face, only the shoulders down, but you’ve uploaded voice notes. You’ve done tons of horny rambles that he had to have listened to. Okay, wait wait wait, does he only get off to you? He said that you’re the only girl that he follows on the site… Okay, stop, brain shut the fuck up. 

The next day you tried to operate how you normally would. You went to the gym, you got your morning coffee, you thought about Jeongin moaning at the sight of you, you screamed in your car and you went back home. Honestly, this is working out great. 

You did everything that you could to distract yourself from the unending thoughts. You did laundry, watched TV, skipped rope on your balcony, you even started color organizing your closet. That’s when your phones started ringing with that tone that you know all too well.

 You stared at it for what felt like a second, you tried to calm yourself down and cursed yourself out in your head for making this such a big deal. He said that he doesn’t care. He won’t mention it, he’ll just get off to your videos and that’s that. Jeongin is your best friend who finds you hot and touches himself to your videos, that’s so normal. You’re so normal about this. 

By the time you finally hyped yourself up to answer his call the phone stopped ringing and you let out a huff of heavy air that you weren’t even aware you were holding. You’ll call him back…later.

Not even three minutes later there’s knocking at your front door and you rush to open it. You’re expecting a package today so this must be it. You swing the door open and your heart jumps out of your chest and runs down the hall. “Are you okay?” 

Jeongin waves in front of your face to grab your attention as you stare at him, unmoving. “I called, you didn’t answer.” You clear your throat but end up choking a bit from how dry it is. You opt for nodding your head while you desperately swallow your spit to try and save you from further embarrassment. 

“Right, yeah yeah come in, what’s up?” You hastily stumble to the side as you open your door wider. He stalks in like he always does, comfortable and confident. “You have my green jacket, Felix hyung wanted to borrow it tonight.”

”I gave that back, didn’t I?” You smooth down your skirt, suddenly feeling super self conscious. He’s seen you in this exact outfit more times than you can count but it’s different this time, right? No, it’s not supposed to be different. We’re acting normal. We’re so normal about this.

”Noona?” His fingers wrap around your wrist and you jump out of your thoughts, literally. “Is everything alright? You keep spacing out.” 

Has his hand always been this damn big? That’s all that you can think to yourself as you stare down at where he’s holding you. “I’m fine, Jeongin,”

”You usually call me Innie.” He retorts with furrowed brows until it all clicks for him. “Is this about last night?” 

You pull away from him like he’s on fire and start power walking to your bedroom before he can say another word. “I’ll go look for that jacket.”

You slam your room door closed behind you and sink to the floor against it immediately after. This is crazy, you’re acting crazy and horny and - and - fuck, has his hand always been that big? 

Has he always called you noona that smoothly? Has he always been like… that?  Wait, no, pull it together. Find the jacket and send him away so you can spiral in peace. 

After about ten minutes of searching through the mess you made and battling your inner demons you find the jacket that Jeongin came for. When you leave your bedroom you expect to see him sitting on your couch but you find him in your kitchen instead. He’s washing your dishes while he hums some song that you’re sure that you could identify if you concentrated but you can’t think straight. Your brain isn’t working at all because your best friend is standing there, at your sink, washing your dishes… In only a white tank top and gray sweatpants. 

Your eyes find the discarded sports sweater he arrived in thrown sloppily over one of your counter stools before they quickly return to Jeongin’s toned back. This shirt should be illegal. He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good. 

You stand there, jacket in hand and thighs pressed together while you try to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Just as you’re about to speak he turns around with a cup full of water but it’s only full for a second before he jumps with a scream and pours it all over himself.

”Ya, noona!” He huffs, bracing himself against the counter. “What the hell? You scared the life outta me.” He drops the now empty cup into the sink and braces himself with both hands against the marble. 

“Why are you just standing there?” You don’t even hear his question. You can’t hear anything except for the fast beating of your heart and incoherent screaming from your last brain cell as you take in the sight before you. 

The front of his shirt is soaked and you can see right through the fabric sticking to each and every dip and contour of his unbelievable body. Has he always been… so hot? “Noona, seriously, what is going on with you? Do we need to talk about something?” 

He steps towards you and you take a clumsy step back. “I uh, found the jacket.” You sit the jacket on the stool where his sweater is then look back at him. You look him in the eyes this time to avoid possibly fainting but you quickly discover that his gaze is just as intoxicating. 

“Forget the jacket, I’m trying to figure out if -“ He takes another step towards you and you take two back. 

“Okay, so I’ll see you later, right? Awesome, later Innie.” You rush back to your bedroom just as he takes another step to try to stop you. You slam the door shut and repeat the same routine as earlier. When did he get so hot?

What the fuck? Did he just ask you if you like it?…Why is the answer yes? Why does that make every thought that you’ve been thinking for the past 12 hours way worse? You gotta pull it together, you can’t let a simple question cause you to spiral. He probably didn’t even mean it like that…right?

You spend the next three hours trying to forget that text. You take a shower and cook yourself a dinner that you barely even touch because it’s not what you want. It’s not him, do you want him? 

You drag yourself to your bedroom after you stuff your leftovers in the fridge and plop down on your bed. You scream into your mattress once or twice before you decide that you can’t take it anymore, you need to do something. Anything. 

Before you can even really think about it you’re in your closet that should honestly count as a second bedroom but you're fine with it being your mini studio. This is where you’ve filmed every video, where you capture every picture and record every ramble. This is where you are when you make the content that Jeongin loves. Maybe he’ll love this too.

You make yourself a bit comfortable in front of the large mirror on the wall and turn on your voice recorder. “Hey there…Do you have a second? I just wanna get something outta my head.” 

You settle into the fluffiness of your bean bag chair and spread your legs in front of the mirror. Your pajama shorts ride up a bit and the thin gusset exposes just enough of your cunt for you to take in. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, yeah you. I can’t get you off of my mind and it’s driving me crazy.” 

You sigh into your phone, glancing down at the recorder to make sure that it’s still running. Your free hand runs over the scarf tying your hair back and trails down the side of your neck. Your fingers brush over your sweet spots slowly and carefully kinda how you think he would do it.

”I want you.” It’s more of a whisper than you intended but you keep going. “I want you so badly that it’s driving me mad. I bet you know that though, don’t you?”

You nearly say Jeongin’s name at the end of that sentence and you nearly moan it into the air when your fingers brush over your nipples. “Tell me that you thought about me too.” 

Your hands start moving faster, grazing your covered and exposed skin with a hungry haste that you’re sure that Jeongin would recreate. He’d explore you with a lust driven by curiosity and desire. He’d rip you apart and take his sweet time putting you back together. He’d be rough and gentle, slow and fast, shallow and deep. He’d be everything.

You didn’t even realize that you were still talking into the recorder when your eyes snap open. You have no clue what you’ve said and you have no clue when you started rubbing at your clit but you don’t care. Moans are tumbling from your chapped lips as drool threatens to spill over the corners.

There’s nothing but pure carnal desire lingering around you and it’s all for your best friend. All for a man that you’ve never looked twice at until today, or have you? You always knew that Jeongin was attractive. You always felt a tingle when he’d hold you or play around with you but you’ve learned to push it down. It was manageable until last night. That’s when the dam broke.

”In- I - I need you.” You almost said it, almost let it slip. “Touch me please, please.”

Your fingers are slipping inside before you can even process it. You’re stroking up against your g-spot at a pace that should be painful but you feel nothing but bliss because you’re thinking of nothing but him. Him him him. 

The slick sounds of your cunt are loud enough to be caught on the recorder but you wouldn’t be surprised if they’re completely overshadowed by your moans. “Make me cum, please please please, m’ gonna cum.” 

Your vision is going white before you can even take a deep breath, it gets caught in your throat as you cry out. You’re panting, mumbling curses left and right and then right as you’re ending the recording it finally slips. “Innie”

After sitting and staring at your reflection for maybe thirty minutes you finally pulled yourself up off of your bean bag chair and freshened up. You plopped down onto your bed face first and screamed, this seems to be becoming a routine. 

Once you get a grip you sit up against your pillows and stare at the new audio. How could you make this while thinking about Jeongin? Are you a terrible friend? Can you blame him for being hot? Can you say that it’s all his fault and just live life hating him for ever finding your account? No, I mean, yeah you could but that would be stupid.

You load the audio into your Only Fans account and put together the new post. You usually wouldn’t think twice about uploading a ramble, you’d usually listen to it in your headphones to check the quality and then throw it online for your subscribers to enjoy but this one feels different. This one feels wrong to post. After a bit of debating you take a deep breath and go for it. It can’t be that bad right?

Nevermind

It’s been about an hour since you posted the audio and it’s gotten back to back likes and comments. You’ve even gotten some chat requests with tips that you plan to reply to later but the one that just came in caught your attention. 

You don’t know what it is about it, maybe it’s the username or the energy behind their message but you’re almost a thousand percent positive that it’s Jeongin on the other side of this chat. 

You sound so pretty in your new audio. You’re really fueling my imagination tonight. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip 

You stare at the message for so long that you forget to blink. This is so obviously him. The user name is a dead giveaway. Jeongin is messaging you about your new ramble… you shouldn’t reply.

Fuck.

You replied. You replied and you flirted so fucking hard that you’re sure that he’s blushing in his bed just like you are right now. You’ve talked to plenty of guys like this. You flirt and make them feel special and then boom more tips but you don’t even care about the money right now, not when you’re having so much fun texting - sexting - the only man that’s been on your mind. Your best friend. 

When you see Jeongin the next day at a small get together you expect it to be awkward. You expected for him to give you knowing looks from across the crowded restaurant table but he didn’t. He acted completely normal like he hasn’t been sexting his best friend for the past eight hours. 

You tried your best to mimic his demeanor. You spoke to him as normally as you possibly could and as the night went on it got easier to ignore the elephant in the room. You stole some food off of his plate and even sang karaoke with him at the bar that you went to afterwards. You almost forgot about the messages, until you got home. 

Care to help me with a situation, sweetie? I’ll make it worth it, I promise. I.2.N.8 Sent a tip

Holy Fuck, that’s a big tip… like, money… that kind of tip. You sat on the edge of your bed with a messy cocktail of cheap liquor running through your veins and giving you confidence to do things that will surely have you screaming into your mattress later, and not in the way that you really want. 

You strip down and head to your closet, clicking a few pictures in poses that you’ve never tried before and some that are your tried and true classics. You hold your breath as you organize the album and attach a price to it. If he really wants to see it he can pay, you’ll be needing the money to fund your therapy sessions after this anyway cause this teasing is driving you insane.

Right when you send the set to the ‘mystery’ guy a text from Jeongin drops down into view and you’re instantly covered in goosebumps.

Ayen 🥐❣️: I had fun with you today, missed you. Ayen 🥐❣️: I work late tomorrow but I’m free the day after, wanna come over?

This is suspicious… right? You should decline. Yeah definitely decline, you don’t wanna risk anything happening that could ruin your friendship. 

You’re screaming into your mattress again.

 You accepted the invitation as you were thinking about declining it. 

You never stood a chance. 

You don’t sleep, instead you plan a cute but chill outfit to wear when you go over to his place. It’s not a date but you still wanna be cute, this isn’t weird. This is normal. 

What’s not normal is the way that you’ve been glued to your phone since this chat with Jeongin popped up. You’re not neglecting your other messages but you do spend extra time on his chat. You give him exclusive content that barely costs a thing and you’re fucking enjoying it. You’re addicted. So much so that when you get to Jeongin’s house the next day for your hang out it’s all that you can think about.

You’ve been here for about an hour and a half. You thought that it was just gonna be you and Jeongin. You thought that it was gonna be a nice best friend date. It’s not. 

“You seriously never saw that video before?” Jisung asks Felix with a mouth half full of whatever he ordered a bit ago. You’re sitting next to Jeongin on the couch with his roommate Seungmin next to him and his other roommate Felix on the floor with Jisung. ”Never.”

They fall into some conversation that everyone seems to be paying attention to but you. You’re too busy staring at your blacked out phone screen as you try to cope with the fact that you’re sitting next to the man that you’re secretly sexting. 

He hasn’t made anything weird just like he promised, everything is fine. You just need to calm - what the fuck?

Your phone chimes and your screen lights up to show a browser notification. An OnlyFans notification. You look over to the man next to you to catch him stuffing his phone in his pocket while he laughs at something that Felix said. Did he seriously just text you?

He did. You open your browser and the message is right there. Staring at you while you stare at him.

Bet you’re lookin’ so pretty today, sweetie.  I.2.n.8 Sent a tip Mind showing me what you’re wearing today? 

You gulp down the spit pooling in your mouth and choke a bit but you hide the cough well, you think. Why would he text you now? Why here? Maybe this is a good chance to see if it’s really him. Yeah, this is your chance. 

You type the cutest reply you can think of while your heart does the cha cha slide in your chest and hit send. You hold your breath as you wait for the ding but you’re choking once again when you actually hear it. 

Jeongin reaches into his pocket and smiles down at his phone. He doesn’t unlock it. He doesn’t check the message. But you know what he does? He fucking smiles at you. 

“You okay, noona? You’re spacing out again.” Seungmin is replying before you can even open your mouth. 

“Maybe if you actually spoke to her instead of texting that OnlyFans girl she wouldn’t have to daydream.” The other two instigate Seungmin’s teasing and Jeongin only rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“You’d be obsessed with her too if you’ve seen what I’ve seen” He settles back into the cushions a bit, extending his arm to the back of the couch behind you. He feels so much closer to you like this, or maybe it’s just because he’s talking about you to all of your friends. “She’s worth obsessing over.”

“Share her account then.” You jump a bit at the suggestion, it was quick but it was enough to gain Felix and Jisung’s attention. Jeongin is the opposite of you. He isn’t phased by the suggestion one bit, he just smiles down at his lap and shakes his head. “Nope, she’s a treasure that I plan to keep to myself.”

Seungmin scoffs and the other two start with the teasing again but Felix’s gaze keeps floating back to you. You try your best to relax, no one knows that you’re the OnlyFans girl so they aren’t actually talking about you. But this on top of Jeongin texting you while sitting right next to you is starting to be too much.

“Yeah yeah, tease all you want, I’m getting a drink.” Jeongin asks if anyone else wants anything from the kitchen and collects requests from almost everyone except for you. You just sit there quietly staring at your lap, quietly dying inside until the burning in your chest gets your feet moving. 

“I’ll be back.” You mumble but only Felix replies, he’s the only one that heard you and his eyes follow you as you take the same path that Jeongin did a second ago.

Your friend is looking into the open fridge when you get to the kitchen. He’s grabbing a bottle of water when he notices you come around the corner.

“Hey, did you want -“ 

“Not here.” You whisper through clenched teeth, it’s quick and quiet enough for you to get the point across and then escape. “Do not message me here, are you insane?” Jeongin closes the fridge, water bottle in hand and a grin on his lips.

”What?” You look back to make sure that you’re still alone before stepping closer to him. ”Do not text me here.”

”Why would I be texting you when you’ve been right next to me?” He sips from the bottle in his hands before sitting it down. “I think that you’re confused about -“

”You’re I.2.n.8, I know you are. You’re the one who’s been tipping me and texting me on OF for days.” Jeongin looks down at the tile in an attempt to hide the smug grin on his face. “You promised not to make it weird.”

”I kept my promise.” He shrugs, looking back up at you with a different gaze, a darker one. “I haven’t made anything weird. I haven’t brought it up. It’s you who thinks that I’m texting you.”

He steps closer, leaving little room between you two. You can feel your face getting hot, the temperature is rising with each second that your eyes are on his. Your thighs press together and you take it as a desperate plea from your body but you don’t know what for. “ Do you want it to be me texting you?” 

The air feels too thick with him so close, you can’t breathe. It’s too much. You turn away, desperate to retreat back to your safe space on the couch but he grabs your wrist before you can escape. 

His other hand finds your waist and guides your back against the marble counter next to the fridge. “Don’t run away from me again, noona.” There’s barely an inch between you two and the air feels dry at this point. Your tongue feels too heavy to control in your mouth so you dip it out to skate across your bottom lip. Jeongin watches the movement carefully, too carefully.

”Tell me, do you want it to be me, hm?” He shifts, caging you between his arms as he leans against the counter. You catch the flex of his muscles from the corner of your eye and it makes you feel dizzy, what is going on? “Do you want it to be me who tells you how badly I wanna ruin such a pretty thing like you?” 

You bite back a groan and sink into the surface behind you. He steps forward, now impossibly close as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Is that what you want, sweetie?”

Oh fuck, it is him. It’s really him.

”Jeongin, we can’t” You’re whispering to him so he whispers back. “Can’t what? What are you thinking about? I’ve only asked you a question.”

”You can’t be this close to me.” Your words feel forced and your limbs feel heavy as you try to find a way to settle against him. “This isn’t right.”

”Yeah? So you touching yourself in your closet and moaning my name is fine? But this isn’t right?” Your eyes widen the second those words leave his mouth, how did he know that you film in your closet? He’s been there a couple of times of course, he’s sat in your bean bag chair and he’s helped you pick out outfits but he never knew that you do Only Fans. So if he knows that you’ve been filming in your closet that means he recognized it from one of your videos… which means that he also had to have recognized you. 

“You knew that it was me the whole time didn’t you?” Your eyes flick from his to his lips and back up. “You knew that it was my account.” His lips spread into a wide mouth smile as he mimics your previous pattern with his dark pupils. 

“Maybe I did.” He moves his hand to your arm, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of your wrist. Every touch feels like fire as the pads of his fingers glide up your forearm. “Maybe I hoped it was you.”

His fingers press into your flesh every so slightly, it’s enough to make you shift into a firmer press of your thighs. “Maybe I only subscribed to the account because it looked like you.”

His fingers take their time going over the curve of your shoulder. They tease the strap of your top for a second, before dancing up the curve of your neck. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

That was what tipped the bucket. That is what had you crashing your lips to his and wiping that smug smile off of his face in an instant. He moans into your mouth before you can moan into his, his hand cups your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand grabs at your waist.

It’s heated and sloppy. He feels just as desperate as you do with every clumsy swipe of his tongue over yours. You’re panting into his mouth, only pulling away for half a second to breathe before you’re tasting him again. 

Your hands grab at his flexing arms, scratching and kneading the flesh before you move to make fists into the fabric of his shirt. He feels unreal, he’s more than what you dreamed of. He feels so strong and soft and he tastes like lust itself.

You press your body further into his, taking in the matching thump of his heart to yours as your lips move in an impossible rhythm. It’s clear that you both feel the same hunger, the same longing, the same need for each other. Maybe this was driving him insane too.

“Jump.” His command is muffled and wet against your lips but you understand him and swiftly obey. His hands move to the back of your thighs to help you up onto the counter and he briskly fills in the space between your parted legs with his slim waist. 

You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands wander up your clothed thighs, his fingers dig into the plush flesh with a deep groan. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve thought of this?” He trails kisses over your cheek and over the shell of your ear. 

“I watched every video.” He moves down the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh to milk moans from your parted lips. “I listened to every audio. I saved every picture.” 

He sucks bruises into your clavicle, licking over the rising cherry marks and planting sloppy kisses. “But none of that is as good as this.” You’re panting and moaning into his ear. Words don’t make sense. They jumble and disappear behind your eyes with each rough grab and desperate lick. 

“Do you feel as good as you look, sweetie?” Your eyes flutter open when he pulls back from your neck. Both of your lids are low and your eyes have a lustful haze fogging them. “Can I please feel you?”  His hands explore you while you fight with your tongue to form words. They skim over your curves and make you feel like you’re electric. You’ve wanted this, you wanted this so badly. 

“We shouldn’t.” Your mouth forms the wrong words and you curse yourself for it. Jeongin just nods at you, hands still exploring your body until they reach your breast. He cups them, squeezing a bit and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. 

“We shouldn’t” He repeats after you, massaging your breast more intensely and pressing the prominent bulge in his sweatpants firm against your cunt. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut.

“We can’t” It comes out as a moan as he leans in and sucks on the flesh on the other side of your neck. Your fingers rake through his hair and he groans at the slight tug you give. “You’re my best friend.” 

“Don’t worry about making things weird.” He whispers between kisses to the shell of your ear. “Just worry about what you want.”

He pulls away again, fox eyes staring into yours. “You’re not gonna lose me, don’t worry.” Your eyes search his for a second and you can feel your resolve breaking. 

 “Touch me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but he heard you, he’s just going to act like he didn’t. “Say it again.”

“Touch me, Innie, please. I wan’ it.” His hand is slipping down the front of your shorts in an instant. Everything is back to being clumsy and rough, fast and desperate. He moans when the pads of his fingers run over your slick folds.

“No panties, sweetie?” His eyes roll back and he bites at his bottom lip to try to control himself. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He hooks his fingers into the side of your shorts and starts trying to work them down your thighs. “I need you, it’s driving me mad.” 

You lift up for him and when you come back down his lips are on yours. “You’re driving me insane.” He whispers against your spit slick lips, his forehead is pressed to yours as his fingers roam your slippery cunt. He covers you in your own slick, dipping in and out of your folds and teasing your waiting hole.

“Please, no teasing, I can’t take it.” He rubs your clit, once then twice before slipping back down. “Innie, please I’ll be so good. I’ll be so good for you please just fuck me.” 

He pushes a finger into you slowly, taking in the soaked warmth that he caused. This is all because of him and his cock twitches at the thought. You moan and arch your back, your nails dig into his forearms as he moves. His rhythm is steady and unfamiliar, it makes your body sing in a way that no one else ever has.

“You’re so tight, noona. So wet.” His eyes are glued to where his finger is disappearing inside of you. He adds another, pushing in slowly before taking his previous pace. “Oh fuck, this is how it looks when you fuck yourself. When you take those toys and stuff your cunt. Shit, it’s so hot.”

You’re grinding into his hand, meeting his fingers when they fill you to the knuckle. Your tongue is poked between your teeth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet but you’ve already failed. Each thrust is met with a whining whimper that Jeongin eats up like candy. 

“Innie, Innie, c-can you curl them please? Curl your fingers inside of - holy shit, yes yes yes.” He watches your eyes roll back as your orgasm builds and builds. 

“Did you think of me?” His voice is thick with lust as he watches you. “When you made your last audio, did you think about me?” You’re shaking your head before you can even filter the question. You admit it shamelessly as you chase your high that’s dangling in front of you.

“Yes, I did I did, I thought of you.” Your orgasm rushes up your legs and blurs your vision with one more stroke of his fingers but he’s pulling out before you can ride it out. You whimper at the loss but a gasp quickly follows when you’re filled with something thicker.

“I know.” He moans, bracing himself against the cabinet behind your head as he pushes into you. “You said my name in the audio, you know that?”

He bottoms out with a groan, your cunt is spasming around him as your previous orgasm rips through you but you can already feel another one building as the first one subsides. His other hand settles at the nape of your neck and he pulls you in for a searing kiss. 

You can’t breathe being this full of him. With his tongue exploring your mouth and his cock stretching your walls. It feels like you're suffocating in the most delicious way. “Shit, your pussy takes - takes me so well.”  You can feel his control dissolving. It’s evident in the way he pants against you and how his dark eyes droop lower and lower with each unsteady pull of his hips.

“I wanna take my time with you.” He whispers against your lips. “I wanna but I can’t.” He’s whining, moaning and cursing into the air as he drags against your walls. You can’t even really hear him if you’re being honest. Between the sloppy sounds of your cunt being fucked, the rapid beating of your heart and ringing in your ears you’re completely clocked out. Utterly brain-dead. 

“Please, let me hear you. Please, I wanna know what you sound like when I fuck you.” Your voice shakes with a moan of his name as he switches his pace. His thrusts become faster and deeper, his breathing ragged, he’s doing his best to fuck you how he’s seen you fuck yourself. He’s doing his best to ruin you the same way that he imagined every time that he’d jerk his cock to your content.

 “More more more, please. Deeper, I wan’ it deeper.” His hands move to your thighs at your request and he pulls your ass to the very edge of the counter. He supports your legs on either side of him while you brace yourself against the side of the fridge. 

He pushes into you until his pelvis is flush against you. Every single thick inch of him is buried inside of you. Your pussy swells around him, squeezing him so perfectly that he lets his head fall forward with a moan. The hand that isn’t against the fridge balls the fabric of his shirt against his chest and slowly pulls it up until his torso is exposed to you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes snap shut once you feel him twitch inside of you. You let your hand run over his toned core, taking in every firm dip from under his fallen shirt. “Move, please. Please, Innie.”

“‘M gonna cum if I move.” His voice is strained as he rummages for any last bit of self control but he’s lost it all. He pulls back slowly, swirling his hips to hit every spot that you could imagine and more. Your pussy clenches around him as he sinks back in and he nearly busts at the feeling.

“I can feel you in my fucking stomach.” That’s all that you had to say to break him. That’s all that you had to say to have him pushing deeper into you then pulling back with every intention of ruining you. The only sound that you can hear is skin against skin decorated by your harmonizing moans.

 His eyes are shut tight as he moves, he’s biting his tongue, trying his best not to whine and moan like he does into his hand while watching your videos. You on the other hand are loud. You’re so fucked out and dazed that you can barely remember where you are. You couldn’t answer the first question asked to you even if you tried, the only thing that you can think of right now is Jeongin. Everything is him. Him, him, him.

“Innie ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me. Gonna make me cum, fuck fuck fuck.” You scratch into his abs, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember this moment. Your head falls back as you float in the feeling of being dumb with pleasure. His hips slam into you at their own accord and you just take it. You let him fuck you just how he wants, just how you need it. 

“Cum, please cum. You feel too good. sweetie. Gonna make me cum.” His thrusts become more frantic, his movements more erratic. Your body is trembling and your mind is blank. A familiar fuzziness takes over your vision as you lose control, you welcome it. You savor it and quietly beg for more. “Cum on my cock, noona.”

He’s begging and you’re complying. Your vision blurs with a hazy white, your breathing hitches, and your body trembles with pleasure. You’re more than positive that your damn near screaming his name as he fucks you through what might be the most intense orgasm of your life. “That’s it, Thank you for your cum. Thank you.” 

His fingers dig into your thighs as his thrusts become unpredictable. He can’t take much more and he knows it. As much as he wanted to savor you he just can’t help but to get lost in the way you feel. He can swear that you were made for him. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming.” With one final thrust he’s pulling out and milking his cock of thick ropes of white that settle on your inner thigh and drips down to frame your glistening cunt. 

He slumps forward, forehead resting against yours as you both pant hot and heavy satisfaction into the air. The silence is loud, almost louder than your pounding heart and racing thoughts as your eyes flutter open to meet Jeongin’s.

You stare at each other, it’s soft and almost comfortable but there’s still this looming uneasiness in your chest that makes you feel like you made a big mistake. It makes you feel like you just lost something. “Here.” He speaks first, pulling back from you to reach for the water bottle that he had earlier.

“Drink this, please.” He’s gentle as he opens the bottle and raises it to your lips. He tips your head back with a bent finger and turns the bottle up for you. “Are you okay?”

You swallow hard, panting for another second before you try nodding your head but you don’t know what to tell him. “Hey.” He grabs your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts for a second and calming you with his touch. “Everything’s alright. We didn’t ruin anything.” 

He smiles softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that you can’t help but melt into. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you’re just nervous to confront all of this, maybe you’re just scared to admit to yourself that you want him. You want him so badly and so much more.

He pulls back and you sigh, nodding your head with a whisper. “I’m okay.” 

“Let me clean you up and we can talk?” He starts fixing himself up and you can’t help but to snort a laugh. “I feel like we did this in reverse order.”

He smiles as he moves over to the sink. “Yeah, maybe.” The two of you laugh softly as he wets a couple of paper towels. It’s quiet again. It's comfortable. Everything will be alright.

“Your bedroom is literally right down the hall, you couldn’t fuck there?” Seungmin yells to the two of you and you freeze, Holy fuckaroni, you forgot that they were here. 

“You never even brought me my drink!” Jisung follows and Jeongin rolls his eyes and comes back over to you with the paper towels. Felix yells right after Jisung and you can’t help but to break out into laughter with Jeongin as he cleans you up. 

“Are you two not confused that they just fucked? Is it just me?.” 

Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

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[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[hoshifighting]

Hear me out, you have a crush on SVT (following them around, giving them gifts etc) but one day you stop doing that and start ignoring them, how do they react!??

when you start to ignore them — seventeen a your crush

hyung line / maknae line

seungcheol doesn’t notice right away. at first, he thinks you’re just having an off day—maybe you're busy, maybe you’re just tired, but then a few days pass, and the silence starts to feel heavy. no more small gifts, no more lingering smiles when you catch his eye. nothing.

he can’t stand it. seungcheol’s the type to act tough, but the way you suddenly stopped all your little gestures? it eats at him. “what the fuck,” he mutters under his breath when you pass him by, not even sparing a glance. his chest tightens. you’ve always been there, always giving him attention, and now… nothing?

he texts you once, just a casual “you good?” but when you leave him on read, something snaps in him. you’re ignoring him on purpose. the next time he sees you, he grabs your wrist, pulling you into an empty hallway. “what’s your problem?” his voice is sharp, but there’s a hint of desperation in it. “did i do something? why are you acting like i don’t exist?”

he doesn’t get it—why you stopped. he misses the attention, misses you, and for the first time, he feels vulnerable, wondering if he pushed you away without even realizing it.

jeonghan notices the shift immediately. he's always been sharp, always able to read people. when you stop following him around, when you stop trying to make him smile with little gifts or compliments, he can feel the change in the air.

at first, he finds it amusing. “oh, so you're playing hard to get now?” he teases, half-expecting you to blush and laugh it off, but you don’t. you just shrug and walk away. and for once, jeonghan doesn’t have a quick comeback. it starts to bother him, more than he’d like to admit. the absence of your attention leaves a strange void. he used to roll his eyes when you'd bring him coffee or leave him little notes, but now? he catches himself looking for them.

he corners you one day, that sly smile on his face, but his eyes give him away. “did you get bored of me already?” he tries to joke, but his voice wavers, just enough for you to notice. when you don’t answer, he steps closer, his fingers brushing against yours. “i miss you,” he admits quietly, his smirk fading. “don’t you miss me too?”

joshua pretends not to care at first. he’s good at hiding his feelings, always calm, always collected. when you stop showering him with attention, he tells himself it’s fine, maybe even a relief.

but it’s not.

he starts to overthink—did he say something wrong? did he push you away? the questions spiral in his head, and soon enough, he’s analyzing every interaction the two of you ever had. one evening, when you pass by without so much as a glance, something in him cracks. “hey,” he calls out, his voice a little too soft, a little too careful. when you turn around, he hesitates, trying to find the right words.

“did i do something wrong?” his voice is small, almost vulnerable. “you used to… i mean, we used to…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, awkwardly searching for the right way to say he misses you. he doesn’t want to come off as needy, but the truth is, he misses your attention more than he thought he would. “just… talk to me. please.”

jun doesn't know what to do with the silence. he's never been great with words, always a bit awkward, but he’s used to you being there. used to your constant presence, your gifts, your smiles. so when you stop, he feels lost. he tries to act normal, tries to laugh it off like it doesn’t bother him, but it does. it really, really does.

one day, after you’ve ignored him for too long, he blurts it out. “did i do something to piss you off?” it’s blunt, but that’s all he knows how to be. his eyes are wide, his hands fidgeting as he waits for your response. “you used to… i don’t know, you used to care.” his voice cracks at the end, and he quickly looks away, embarrassed by how desperate he sounds.

he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know what went wrong, but he wants your attention back. he misses it, misses you, and it’s killing him that he doesn’t know how to get you to care again.

soonyoung’s never been good at subtle. when he likes someone, everyone knows. and he thought it was the same with you. you were always there, always laughing at his dumb jokes, bringing him snacks after practice, and just hanging around, like you couldn’t get enough of him. but now? you’re distant. cold, even. no more gifts, no more texts, and it’s driving him up the wall.

“are you mad at me?” he asks one day, voice unsure, eyes wide with that puppy-dog look that usually works on everyone. you just shake your head. “no, everything’s fine.” but he knows it’s not. everything’s changed, and he hates it. soonyoung’s the kind of guy who thrives on attention, and without yours, he feels off-balance, like something’s missing. he doesn’t know how to fix it, and the more he tries, the worse it seems to get.

he starts showing off more, trying harder to make you laugh, but nothing works. and it’s fucking with him, making him doubt himself in ways he never has before. because he liked the way you made him feel, and now that it’s gone, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

jihoon is another one who pretends he doesn’t care. he’s always been good at that—keeping his emotions locked up tight, never letting anyone get too close. but you? you somehow slipped through the cracks. you were always there, bringing him coffee when he worked late, leaving notes on his desk with dumb doodles or stupid jokes that made him smile when no one was looking.

now it’s like you’ve disappeared. you’re still around, sure, but you don’t bother with him anymore. no more coffee, no more notes. nothing. he tells himself it’s for the best. that it’s better this way, less distracting. but deep down, it stings. because he liked having you around, more than he’d ever admit. one night, he stays late, hoping you’ll show up like you always used to. when you don’t, he feels a pang of disappointment in his chest. he hates it. hates how much he misses you. he sends you a text, something short and casual: “you haven’t been around much lately.” when you don’t respond, he stares at his phone, frustrated. he throws his head back, closing his eyes. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, wondering when he got so attached to your presence.

he watches you sometimes, sees you talking to other people, laughing like everything’s fine, and it makes something twist in his chest. he wants to ask you why, but he’s too stubborn, too proud to admit that it’s bothering him. so he stays quiet, burying himself in his work, trying to forget the way it felt to have your attention. but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing.

wonwoo doesn’t say anything at first. he’s quiet, observant, and he notices right away when you stop hanging around, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up.

he tells himself he’s fine with it, that maybe it’s for the best. but then he realizes how much he actually looked forward to your little gifts, your presence. he misses the way you’d light up when you saw him, the way you’d try to get his attention in your own subtle way. when you start ignoring him, it feels… empty.

one day, he finds himself walking up to you, his hands in his pockets, trying to act casual. “you’ve been avoiding me,” he says, his voice soft but direct. “did something happen?” there’s a sincerity in his eyes that’s hard to miss. “i… i miss you. i don’t know why you stopped, but…” he hesitates, glancing down before meeting your gaze again. “i liked having you around. i still do.” he doesn’t push for answers, but the quiet hope in his voice says it all. he just wants you back.

[f1fantasys]

No, because I absolutely love your writing. You write smut so good. So I was think could you write something with Lando where he's reader's sugar daddy and they fuck alot but Lando is down bad for her. (No lando with toher girls, though) With a happy ending, my queen. 🧎‍♀️

Thank you anon, I'm so glad you like my writing! And i hope you enjoy this. Remember, requests are always open.

Whats yours is mine, whats mine is yours

Warnings: heavy smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, oral f receiving, fingering, anal.

Lando Norris.

The hot fuckboy you met last year at the Monaco race where you were one of the grid girls. The minute your eyes met before the race started, you knew how the night would end.

It was sweeter because Lando had won the race. He quickly found you as his media duties ended, pulling you into his drivers' room. No words were spoken at first, just intense gazes, both knowing what the other wanted.

What was supposed to be just a one time fuck had turned into 3, 7 and now 12 months of fucking.

You both weren't in the right space for a relationship, so never even mentioned such. You were just finishing uni, starting an internship in Monaco, still trying to make grounds meet, while Lando was in a different city every week, so it made no sense.

You were fine with what you thought was just a one night stand, but you couldn't see yourself fitting into Lando's lavish lifestyle. He tried many times to assure you that he would take care of all your needs, even help you while setting your life up in Monaco. It wasn't until the third time you saw each other that Lando and you made a pact - friends with benefits, though he would continue to help you.

To be honest, you weren't expecting much from him. The sex was incredible, and you'd take it anytime. But he often showered you with lush gifts and expensive items, dropping money into your account without thinking. Normally you'd be opposed to accepting such from people, but the man was an f1 driver, and you were having fun, so you allowed yourself to indulge in everything he had to offer.

You'd text or call here and there whenever he was away, and he'd invited you to a few races as well, so you could use each other as you pleased.

One thing you wouldn't admit to anyone, was how you were falling more and more for Lando each time you saw him recently. You didn't allow your thought or feelings to consume you because you knew he was probably fucking every other girl everywhere he traveled, not so much as even thinking of you.

What you didn't know though was how deep in Lando himself was. The minute he layed eyes on you, he knew he was done for. You were beautiful, had long, lush hair, skin so smooth he always kissed every corner of it, and curves so sexy he'd get hard just thinking of you. He wasn't generous to you because he pity-ed you - no. You deserved everything single beautiful thing on this planet, and he made it his mission to give it all to you. He'd give you the moon if he could. You also didn't know that he hasn't slept with anyone since your first night together. He'd tried, but no one was a good as you, and he found himself comparing them all to you - so before it would get as far as penetrative sex, he would already be walking out or pushing the girl through his door.

Lando wouldn't dare make his feeling known because it would be unfair to expect you to accept his job and his traveling. One year on and you were doing well for yourself - working a full time job, and growing with each step you take. He didn't want to take all of that away from you just for him.

Lando had texted you earlier that he was on the way home from Nice, telling you to go wait for him in his apartment.

While you were waiting for him in his room, you wondered if he'd bring other girls here on the nights you didn't spend together. Would he fuck them senseless as he did you, devour their pussy's like he was a starved man, and moan their name when he came as he did yours?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Lando suddenly walked through the bedroom door. You didn't realize how lost in thought you were that you missed hearing the front door open.

''Hey, you good?'' he asked, seeing your face contorted with confusion. ''Huh? Uh, yeah, sorry, thinking about work'' you lied.

You sat on your knees as he walked up to you and cupped your face, leaning down to lock his lips with yours in a feverish kiss.

His actions had you moaning already, which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth as he slowly started removing your clothes.

Once you were left in just your panties he pulled back and stripped his own clothes.

You watching in anticipation as he finally took off his boxers, revealing his thick girth, swollen and standing tall.

He smirked, ''Like what you see?'' he asked. You licked your lips, ''So much'' you said, wasting no time in taking him into your hands and pumping him a few times.

It had been a while since you had seen each other so to finally feel your hands on the place he craved you the most, he was twitching uncontrollably in your hands.

''Someones' needy'' you chuckled as your thumb spread the pre-cum all over his tip, watching as his core muscles flexed with every movement.

Lando's breath increased and he couldn't take just your hands anymore. ''Fuck y/n, please'' he begged.

Normally you'd liked to have teased him a bit more, hear him beg a bit more, but honestly, you were just as desperate for him.

You finally leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth, sucking on it harshly as Lando held your head in his hands, guiding your movements.

He slid in as much as you could take, hitting the back of your throat which had you gagging around him.

''So pretty for me, taking me so well'' he whispered as he began to move, fucking himself into your pace at a raw pace.

You held onto his thighs tightly as Lando took full control, using you how he wanted because he knew how much it turned you on.

You already felt your core dripping wet, clenching achingly around nothing, so you crossed your legs and squeezed your thighs together.

The sounds you were making right now were borderline pornographic - Lando was throwing out moans and swear words like crazy, you were moaning and groaning at his relentless movements in and out of your mouth, and then there were the wet, slick and sloshy noises of his dick sliding through your spit which was now running out your mouth and messing your chin.

''Fuck baby, not gonna last long now, where do you want me?'' he asked, as always. When you didn't respond, he knew he was to finish in your mouth.

So he did - Lando's dick was throbbing uncontrollably as he came violently, shooting ropes of warm cum down your throat as his hold on your head tightened. ''Shit, how do you do that, fuck, yes'' he moaned.

''Hmm'' you hummed at the taste of him, slowly working him through his high as he slowly softened second by second.

You pulled off with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, breath heavy and lips swollen as you looked at Lando, who's eyes were still shut, his own breathing quick. ''Missed that so much'' he said, genuinely smiling down at you, releasing his tight hold of your head.

He now picked you up and off the bed, headed into the bathroom and placed you on the counter.

You hissed at the coldness as wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer, kissing him with a sense of urgency and desperation, this time sliding your own tongue into his mouth and pulling at his hair.

Lando lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot as you bit on your lower lip, trying to keep your body from trembling since he had barely touched you yet.

''Hmmm Lando, please'' you begged, not sure what for, though quickly releasing a breath when his mouth landed on your left nipple, tugging and pulling at it, showing it no mercy.

Your nails dug deep into his biceps when he rolled your other nipple between his fingers harshly.

When he pulled back to spread your legs open, your breath hitched at seeing a string of spit still connecting his mouth to your nipple, and he smirked too when he noticed it. It might have been a small thing, but it was so hot, and you couldn't help but pull him closer and kiss him again. You fought each other, teeth clashing and biting one another until he finally pushed you back to lean against the mirror.

''Need to taste you'' he mumbled, spreading your legs open again and licking his lips when he saw your glistening core, dripping down your thighs.

You latched your hands onto Lando's hair as he leaned down and licked your juices that had leaked out of your pussy, letting his mouth travel further to place you were eager for him to devour.

As he teased you, taking his time to get there, Lando noticed how your lips were twitching, clenching around nothing, begging for attention. He smirked again, ''I'm home baby, I'm gonna take care of you''

You tried not to think too deep at his words, he probably said that just because of how turned on he was, but something was telling you he meant something deeper, more meaningful.

Though your thoughts were cut off when he finally let his tongue run through your slick folds, slurping up your sticky juices before he found your clit and sucked on it roughly.

''Fuck me Lando'' you said as your legs were starting to close around his head but he stopped your movements by placing his strong hands on them, holding them down and in place.

''Oh I'm gonna fuck you, don't worry'' he said, spit and your wetness already making a mess on his face.

Lando suddenly thrust two fingers through your entrance causing your back to arch from the mirror, gasping for hair as he was already curling them at the right spongy spots, while his tongue still slaughtered your clit.

''Hmmm fuck, not gonna last long Lan'' you managed through your fuzzy brain, pulling at Lando's hair harder than before.

He sped up his movements, edging you on and within minutes you were a shuddering mess above him, releasing your cum straight into his mouth as he moaned at the taste of you, warm and salty.

''Shit Lando'' you said through gritted teeth and he slowed his fingers, eventually pulling them out and licking them clean, eyes darker than usual staring into yours.

It was what he did next though that had you already wet for more. He leaned forward and let your cum drip from his mouth into yours, then kissing you harshly as he lifted your ass off the counter and carried you back to his bedroom.

As he placed you back on the bed, hovering above you, you gave him access to your neck so you could try and catch your breath, get ready for what was to come next.

Your hands roamed his body, memorizing every outline of his muscles, before settling on his girth and sliding it through your folds a few times, lubing it up.

''Gonna be my whore and let me fill you up?'' he whispered, the nickname nothing new for you.

''Please, i need you'' you whined, getting impatient.

''Not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, yeah?''

''Give it to me'' you said, smiling eagerly.

And he did.

Lando slammed into your pussy with a force that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He stayed still for a moment, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, until you nodded your head so he could start moving.

Lando pulled out completely before ramming into you again and again, showing you no mercy, the both of you moaning and on the edge of a high so delicious.

''So fucking tight, taking my big dick so well baby'' he murmured, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, biting it through his teeth and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body.

''Lan, please, I'm close''

''I know angel, you can let it out'' he said, because he was trying to hard not to let himself cum before you, though he was shamelessly ready to do so the minute he started fucking you.

''Cum quickly so i can fill you up and fuck a baby into you'' he said, not thinking his words through. Both your eyes widened, but quickly got replaced when your body was suddenly shaking, your orgasm ripping through you violently.

When Lando felt your walls clench painfully around his dick, he went into overdrive, and before he could register what was happening, he was emptying his load into you, ropes of cum milking its way deep into you as it was his turn to be shaking above you.

''Fuck y/n, fuck'' he cooed, both your hearts racing, groaning at the intensity of the situation.

Lando let his weight fall on your body as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting him bury his head in your neck.

You shivered as you felt his hot breath fanning over your sweaty sides, the cool air of the night also causing goosebumps along the rest of yours and his body.

You stayed like that for a while, Lando softening still inside of you until he moved and pulled out, both of you hissing at the loss contact. He disappeared into the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up - he always did. Once that was done and you were dressed again you knew it was time to leave even though you didn't want to.

Lando, wearing just his boxers climbed into bed while you sat there awkwardly at the edge of his bed. You wished he'd want you to lie next to him, cuddling each other, but you quickly had to wipe that though out of your head.

''I guess..I'll see you around you said, grabbing your phone off his side table.

''Yeah, I'll call. In town for a bit'' he said, catching your hand and bringing to his lips for a quick kiss.

And with that you smiled and left.

You didn't hear from him for about a week, until the morning he was leaving for Monza.

''How quickly can you get to mine?'' was all he'd texted.

Before you could respond, he sent another one.

''Leaving for Monza in 45, come over for a quick 'un?''

''I'm on my way'' you replied.

He was standing in his foyer, waiting for you, and the minute you walked in he had you pressed against the shut door.

Lando wasted no time in bunching your work dress up and sliding your panties to the side, quickly thrusting two fingers into you as you cupped his face and kissed him roughly.

He bought your orgasm over you quickly, breath harsh on your neck as you trembled in his arms.

You both hadn't even said anything to each other, too lost in getting down to business.

Lando quickly unzipped his jeans and freed his hard cock from its constraints, pumped himself a few times before lining up at you entrance.

He held you by your hips against the door, pushing himself into you quickly, bottoming out, and this time gave you no chance to get used to him - instead he fucked into you hard and fast, the both of you moaning with each thrust as you looked at each other, lost in a wave of ecstasy.

''Lando, uh'' you moaned as you felt him deep within you, your walls clenching around him achingly.

''I know'' he said through breaths, bringing his thumb down to toy with your clit, which in turn sent you into another orgasmic bliss, your liquid gushing on to him like a tidal wave as your body was once again shaking in his arms.

''So good'' you managed to whisper as he increased his movements, chasing his high as he become clumsier and sloppier by the second.

Then he came hard and fast, filling you up with the warm sticky liquid as he chanted your name over and over, leaning down to kiss you, biting on you bottom lip as you both came down from you high.

This time there was no time to clean you up. He kissed you once more before rushing out, leaving you to clean yourself and lock up with the spare key you had, your heart clenching from wanting more.

Your phone buzzed, you saw he'd just put 3000 pounds into your account. That no more excited you though. Money and materialistic things were nothing compared to the life you wanted with all of him. But you still thanked him.

3 weeks later and you knew he was on summer break though he hasn't texted you. You convinced yourself he was probably still out of the country.

Another two weeks had passed with no contact. You missed him so much. You missed the sex, so much. Pleasuring yourself was not remotely close to how Lando made you feel.

Now a whole 5 weeks later and you were so tempted to message him, see where he was. You'd seen on social media that he had in fact been home during these weeks, but you held out because what if he didn't want to see you? What if he was done with you? You don't think you could handle the rejection if you heard the words from his mouth - so rather let it end without any words being spoken.

You'd just finished work and had stopped by a restaurant to get some takeout for dinner. While sitting and waiting for your order you heard his voice. You both looked at each other at the same time, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was with Martin Garrix, who rushed over to you and enveloped you in a big hug as Lando stood there awkwardly before he walked up to you. Martin left to go to the bathroom.

You tried to keep a neutral face, tried to keep the blush off your face. He looked so hot in his tank top and shorts, a necklace gracing his neck, and his lush curls which bounced off in different directions as he ran a hand through his hair.

''Hey'' he said, sliding a hand into his pocket.

You cleared your throat. ''Uh hey, wasn't sure you were back'' you said, pretending you hadn't known his every where-about for the summer.

''Yeah, just been busy'' he said.

It had never been this awkward before, the both of you just staring at each other, not knowing what to say, but a teasy blush on both your cheeks.

Not 10 minutes later and you were riding him in his Mclaren. If someone asked you how you ended up like this, you wouldn't know the answer. All you knew what how good it felt to finally be fucking him again. You were sat on top of him, dress bunched up to your waist, and his shorts half way down his legs as you rode him, hard and fast.

Lando's mouth were stuck on your boobs, showing your nipples no mercy, while you hands ran through his hair multiple times, pulling and tugging at it.

Luckily he was parked in a secluded area, but surely the people walking by could hear the two of you. But you didn't care. Your moans you obscene, while his just sounded sexy as hell, praising you through gritted teeth at how good you were for him, how he missed his slut.

You came at the same time, shuddering and shaking in each others arms as you rode out your highs, Lando finally cupping your face and kissing you like his life depended on it, like he was savoring the moment.

As you stopped moving, you allowed your body to slump forward onto him, trying to catch your breath as he lazily played with your hair.

''Sorry I didn't call sooner'' he said, tucking your hair behind your ears and kissing you gently.

''It's ok. Just don't wait this long. I've needed you, Lando''

''Oh, i can drop you some money now'' he said, moving to get his phone straight away.

It took you a minute to realize what was happening until your brain caught up.

''What?'- No, no, Lando that's now what i meant'' you said quickly.

''No?'' he asked.

You took a breath. ''I mean I've missed you. As in you! Physically'' you said, sending him a wink.

He couldn't keep his own smile in. ''Yeah?''

''Uh huh'' you said, kissing him again.

''Well then, I promise. I'll always tell you when I'm back in town''

''Thank you'' you said, pecking him once more before lifting yourself off him and putting your pantie right again.

Since then, Lando had actually texted you multiple times. He'd even called you. You'd had phone sex too. And as much as you were enjoying all this, you still wished for more.

The next time you saw he showed up unannounced at your house. You'd just been having a lazy Saturday night in, wearing just a robe and nothing else when your door bell rang.

You looked through the peephole and couldn't have opened the door faster. There stood a breathless Lando, eyes dark and intense.

You pulled him in. ''Hey, you okay? Why're you so out of breath? you asked, concern etched on your face.

''Because i ran here. Was forced into going on a date, was halfway through when i realized something''

Your heart clenched at hearing him say he was on a date, but you stood strong.

''What's that?'' you barely whispered.

''I want you. Only you. All of you'' he said, cupping your face, waiting for you to answer him.

''I-What?''

''Dammit it y/n. I want you, all of you. I've wanted all of you since the first day we met''

''Lando'' you said raising your hands to rest on top of his, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

''I like you, so much, and I want to do life with you'' he whispered, his breath hot on your face.

''Fuck. I like you too Lando, too much. I-I-''

But before you could finish your sentence he crashed his lips to yours. Urgent and feverish, literally taking your breath away as you pulled him closer and moaned into his mouth.

He picked you up by your ass and carried you to your room, dropping you on the bed before hovering above you.

''You're mine now y/n, for as long as you'll have me'' he said, slowly stripping your robe off, eyes darkening even more when he saw you were wearing nothing underneath.

''Fucking hell'' he mumbled, his large calloused hands squeezes your boobs as his eyes stayed glue to them.

''Lando, more'' you begged, beginning to remove his belt and strip his own clothes off.

''Relax baby, we've got all the time'' he said, smirking at you.

Once he was finally left in just his boxers, you slid your hands past them, taking his thick dick and pumping him as his lips found yours again.

''Gonna make you feel good, yeah?'' he asked.

''Fuck, please. Fuck me''

Lando's fingers slid down and rolled through your folds harshly, pinching your clit, before letting 3 fingers enter you at once.

''Getting you ready for me, open for me'' he said, voice thick with his British accent.

He roughly thrust his fingers in and out of you, while his other hand rolled your left nipple between his fingers.

When he was done with your boobs, he moved his whole body down as his fingers still fucked your cunt, and this time he added his mouth into action.

Violently lapping and sucking at your core as if he was starved, while all you could do was let out a series of filthy moans, pulling at his hair.

''That's it baby, go on'' he said, praising you for how good you were doing for him.

Within minutes you were quivering, your orgasm washing through you as you came all over his face and fingers, not slowing his movements until you eventually came a second time, all but screaming his name.

''Lan'' you said between breaths, trying your best to let your brain catch up to what was happening. ''Fuck, so good. I-I, taste you. Need to taste you'' you said, already trying to get out his grip and onto your knees, through he stopped you.

''Later, need to fuck you first'' he said, sternly.

You didn't argue because you were also desperate to feel him fill you up.

Lando shred his boxers off and ran his cock through your folds a few times.

The action had you pussy trying to clench desperately around something.

Just as he was about to push in, he stopped, looking at you with a smirk.

''Wanna try something new?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you were quick to reply.

He got shy for literally a second, then his eyes went dark again.

''Anal?'' he asked softly.

Your breath hitched. It had been something you'd talked about but never got round to actually doing.

When he saw you got quiet, he quickly added ''Shit, we don't have to,'' trying to resume pushing his dick into you.

''What-fuck. Yes, I want to'' you said breathlessly.

''Yeah?

''Please'' you said, already successfully shimmying out of his grasp and turning your body around, taking a hold of the headboard as you stuck your ass in the air.

Lando's hands gently ran all over your ass, squeezing your cheeks and giving you a few gentle slaps, just fun, nothing hectic.

''Gonna stretch you out a bit?''

''Ýeah. Do whatever, I'm yours'' you said, biting your lip in anticipation.

Lando leaned down and gave you a few fluttering kisses and his index finger toyed at your entrance for a bit.

He pulled away and reached it to your mouth, letting you suck it and coat it in your spit before he returned it to your hole and gently started to push in.

You held your breath, shut your eyes, not knowing what to expect.

''That's it baby, tell me if you want me to stop'' he said, pushing in some more.

''No, keep going''

Just as he was about half way in, he quickly popped his middle finger into his own mouth before letting that too slide through and into you.

Feeling both of his rough fingers had you moaning, gasping for air, as Lando started to thrust them in and out of you now.

''You're doing so good. How does it feel?''

''Weird. But so good. Fuck Lando'' you said through heavy breaths.

Not 5 minutes later and your cum was gushing out of you with no warning, your body shaking as you held on tight on to the headboard.

Lando leaned down and licked up everything he good, moaning at how good you tasted.

''Think you're ready for me?'' he asked, unable to keep a smirk off his face.

''Always'' you said, turning around for a quick kiss, also leaning down to give Lando's dick a few quick sucks, leaving as much spit as you could, before settling into position again.

Lando lined himself up, holding onto your waist with one hand as he slowly pushed in.

All air had left your lungs as you held your breath. Feeling him slide through you was unexplainable.

The stretch was sore, so bloody sore, but at the same time, just the though of it being Lando who was filling you up turned you on so much that your brain shut the pain out and replaced it with pleasure.

Once he was fully in, Lando stayed still for a couple of moments, the both of you speechless at the feeling, lost in your own dirty thoughts, until you moved forwards and backwards again.

''Fuck Lando, move, please'' you begged.

''Huh? -Fuck, sorr- sorry. Feels so fucking good i just blanked out for a moment'' he said, voice low and raspy.

He started moving, thrusting in and out of you, while you found you voice again and let out multiple lewd moans.

''Fucking hell, you're so good. So tight. I-I-I''m so lucky'' Lando mumbled.

You felt another orgasm approaching hard and fast, your movements slowing so Lando had to take full control now.

''Uh Lando, gonna cum''

''Go on, let it out, that's it baby'' he said, edging you on.

You bit you lip again as you felt your release, washing through your body which felt like jelly as Lando held you up and adored your whole being, praising you to end.

He pulled out completely and handled your body so you were now laying on your back, legs being spread and pushed up by his strong hands before he was thrusting his dick into you again, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it as your nails dug deep into his back muscles, scratching at him, probably drawing blood.

''That's it baby. I know you have more in you'' he said, movements becoming faster and erratic.

You wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, the new angle having him hit all the right spots in you as you nibbled on his ear.

Suddenly you were having another orgasm, shaking under him as he slowed his movements for a minute, riding you through the mix of pain and pleasure, and once you'd calmed down bit, he increased his pace again, eagerly hunting his own release now.

''Fuck Lando I can't. Too much'' you said, barely able to talk and keep your eyes open.

''One more baby, one more. Together, yeah?'' he said, knowing that although you were saying that, you probably didn't want him to stop.

''Hmm'' was all you could mumble out as Lando's movements were getting sloppy, his dick twitching against your walls, sending you into another orgasmic bliss, with him following you not long after.

You felt as he shot his cum deep within you, filling you up and painting your walls white and both your bodies were shuddering and shivering, fucked out to the core.

He let his weight fall on you, as he often did after amazing sex, and cuddled you as you held him as tight as you could.

The cool air on your sweaty skin had goosebumps raise on your skin again, your body quivering in his arms as he pulled back and locked lips with yours in a tender and loving kiss. Not rough and fast like most of the time.

''You're freezing, let's get you cleaned up'' he said, making his way to pull out of you.

The loss of contact had Lando groaning, and when you looked down at where you were joined moments ago, you stopped him from walking to the bathroom.

''I-Wait!'' you squealed, pulling him back to you.

''You good?'' he asked.

You didn't answer him though. Instead you leaned down and took his mighty girth into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl all around him, swallowing al the juices that coated his dick, before letting him free again.

''Now I'm good'' you said, smirking at him.

'''Fucking dirty menace'' he said, leaning down to give you one final rough kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were all cleaned up and wearing one of Lando's hoodies that he'd left in your house last time, you both curled into bed, your legs thrown over his as your head rested on his chest.

You were talking about everything and nothing.

At one point, Lando looked down at you, smirking.

''So does this mean I'm your boyfriend?'' he cheekily asked.

You couldn't help the blush that formed on your cheeks.

''Yes, my love. My boyfriend.''

''Well, I love you, my girlfriend''

You breath hitched. Hearing the words you've been wanting to hear the day you first met made your heart swell with butterflies.

You leaned on your elbow as you cupped his face. ''I love you too'' you said, before kissing him, pouring every bit of the love you felt for him into it.

He kissed you back with the same passion, and with that you dozed off, excited for what was to come, now that you were finally together.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, domestic violence, abuse, suicidal ideations, suicide attempts, accidental murder, death

gn reader

You should have never fallen in love with someone so brash, but you like seeing the good in people much to the abuse of your own. Still, rough around the edges as he was, you’d never thought he’d become such a monster.

The first time he slapped you, you were so shocked you’d ended up the one who apologized—all the way convinced you must have deserved it. And ever since then, you’ve only accumulated more bruises in areas you can’t explain.

You’re in the bathroom now. The door’s locked, but you don’t think it’ll keep him out for long.

“Open the door, babe—I didn’t mean it.”

You don’t even know if he has himself convinced of that or if he’s just saying it to soothe you. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that your wrist and rib are broken. You’re so terrified you think you might end up dying from the fear alone, sitting in the bathtub just waiting for the inevitable.

You don’t have a phone—it was taken when an old boyfriend had texted. You’d share his from then on, he said—better that way so he can keep track of you. It’s strange, but somehow, you believed it was rather romantic. 

You were going to leave this time. It would be so simple. He was at work, and you’d just leave everything and walk right out the door. But there was an incident at the office which made him come home early only to catch you red-handed heading out the door you know you’re not supposed to open without him.

You’d been so panicked you’d tried running—but there was really no chance. His arms caught you hard, and the floor he threw you back on met you even harder—hence the snapped bones.

Still, you’d managed to scramble to the bathroom with just enough time to lock it behind you.

And now you were left all out of options.

“Open the door, we’ll talk. Maybe I misunderstood.” His voice had calmed down now. He’d been at it for a while—he sounded more airy, teetering on frantic, and it only served to scare you even more. “I know it can get pretty cramped in ‘ere all alone. Maybe you were just getting some fresh air, is all?” He left the question a couple of seconds worth of breath before sending his fist into the door. “Come on, answer me!”

You were sobbing. He might actually kill you this time. God knows you’ve thought he would other times with both his hands wrapped tight around your throat, stringing you up, making you lose voice for days.

You thought about it—the razor blades in the drawer. It seemed like the only option left. Better you than him, right? He’d make it painful. Or worse, he might not go through with it at all, and you’d be stuck living with him forever.

That really did seem worse than death, you thought, sitting on the floor while holding the shiny metal piece to your wrist. Which way was best to cut again? Right. It’ll be quick, and then it’ll be over.

You don’t even hear the door breaking down before he’s on you. You don’t even realize you’ve cut before you see the red. You don’t even know whose blood it is before he gags on it—before it splutters from his mouth upon your face and the slice on his neck splits upon and gushes out like a waterfall all over your clothes.

He drops to the floor with a heavy thud a moment later.

The blood is so warm you don’t even understand how he’s dead.

You even think about stopping the bleeding for a moment, but then it suddenly settles. And then along, shortly after, the understanding that you’d killed him.

The razor hits the bloody tiles with no sound—it’s all so thick it splats before sinking, disappearing slowly. You swallow once, but you’re throat is all but dry. Even the tears had stopped in the shock.

You spot the phone on the floor, having slid from his pocket—moments away from drowning in the blood that seems to just continue seeping and spreading forever. Something within you grabs it before it can.

“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“Hi! Uhm… I’ve just killed my boyfriend.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Aizawa ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ DS – Akaza, Inosuke, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[moonstruckme]

As promised: more roommate!james

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Thunder crashes. A branch from the tree outside smacks into your bedroom window, making you jump. You smile a little at your reaction, and a frisson goes up your spine, giddy. 

You’re kind of in a euphoric state tonight. 

The storm came in early, darkening the sky hours before its time and bringing torrents of rain down upon your home. Immediately, your windows had been opened, your candles lit, and you were curled up on your bed with a book in your hands. 

Downstairs, you can hear the familiar buzz of the TV playing one of James’ sports games. The whole apartment smells like the cookies you made earlier, which you have a small plate of next to you and which your roommate had moaned as he’d bitten into upon you offering some to him. Sweetheart, keep spoiling me like this and you’ll never get me to leave. 

Suffice to say, you’ve been having a fairly good evening. 

Your book is just starting to pick up when the TV quiets. Everything quiets. There’s a thud, followed by a hissed curse. 

You laugh a little. Pick up your phone. 

Alright down there? You text James. 

More thudding sounds. You think about picking your book back up, but decide to wait.

If I were bleeding out on the living room floor, do you think I’d be able to text you back?

A moment later: If you wanted to do a thorough job of seeing I was alright, you should have come and seen for yourself.

Then: And I heard you laughing.

You smile to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping you. Sorry, can’t, you reply. Too cozy. 

You hear his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, and you have only a few moments to brace yourself before he’s swinging open your door. 

Lately, your body has been doing this thing where he looks at you and it’s like the ground softens beneath you. Luckily, you’re already on a bed, so it’s not really possible this time. 

James shuts off the flashlight on his phone, looking around your room with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Woah. Are you having a seance in here?” 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way the candlelight plays prettily over his features. “You’re just jealous that I was prepared for the power to go out and you weren’t.” 

“It looks like you were hoping for it.” James grins. He starts to cross the room, and you’re like a sunflower to your light as you tilt to face him. 

He lays down next to you on your bed, on his stomach with his forearms propping him up. It’s a somewhat tight fit, but James doesn’t seem to mind the way his hip and shoulder are touching yours. His shampoo smell wraps around you like a hug. 

You pick up your tea as an excuse not to look at him, blowing softly before taking a sip. James watches you consideringly. 

“You really are thriving in here, aren’t you?” he teases softly. “Look at you, you’ve got your fuzzy socks on, your tea, your book. You’re in paradise.” 

You smile sheepishly as you set your tea down on the floor. “Sorry you couldn’t finish your game.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “I’d rather hang with you anyway.” 

You feel your brows furrow, a confusing mass of emotions knotting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you tell him softly.

You can feel James’ gaze warming the side of your face. His voice is just as quiet. “Why not?” 

You look over, and his eyes don’t flit away like a sane person’s would. They’re steady and warm as the flames around you. Instantly the room feels too small, him a little too close. 

James’ smile is almost tentative. “Look, I know you drew the short stick with this roommate agreement, but I plan to soak up as much roomie time as I can get. Sorry.” 

“I did not,” you murmur. 

“Didn’t what?” 

“You drew the short stick.” Your face burns. You know James too well to think he’d be making fun of you, but it’s difficult to imagine an alternative. He can’t really think you don’t like having him as a roommate after all the ways he’s been a friend to you, the times he’s stepped in to help, when you’ve only been a burden and a drag. “Not me.” 

His eyebrows twitch closer to each other, and his lips tilt bemusedly, as though they’re unsure of what else to do. The lenses of his glasses reflect the candlelight, brown eyes molten behind them. 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he says. The air between you feels thick and sweet. Your heart seems to know something you don’t, quickening its rhythm in your chest. Then, because it’s James, he flicks up a brow. “Truce?” 

You laugh quietly, turning your face down towards your book. There are goosebumps going all down your arms. “Sure,” you say. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “Glad that’s settled.” 

You don’t respond this time. You’re not sure you can. The words on your page blur by, unnoticed and unimportant.

Lightning cracks outside. You gasp and turn to see it, and James’ lips meet you there. 

You should have known he would be soft like this. You’ve kept yourself from thinking about it, but you could have guessed. The first gentle, warm press of his mouth is so lovely you get lost in it, but when it lasts for too long and he starts to draw back, you remember that you can move, too. 

He takes in a tiny inhale when you part your lips for him, his hand finding your waist and his body curving over yours. Your arm falls out from under you, and James follows you down. He tastes sweet and familiar, like home. 

You bring your hands up to his face, one resting tentatively on his cheek while the other toys with the idea of slipping its fingers into his hair. The sky rumbles outside. Your heart pitters. 

“It’s okay,” James mumbles. His voice buzzes against your lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart, please.” 

You grasp at the roots of his hair, palm settling more surely on his cheek, and James makes a sound low in his throat. He breaks the kiss to pull off his glasses. You take them from where he sets them on the bed, placing them more carefully on the floor where they’re not so likely to get crushed. His lips curve over yours. You think that if you were to detour to either side, you might find a dimple in his cheek. 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Oh, it’s James again now, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “What is it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a nonsensical question, but in fairness you think all the blood that’s supposed to be in your brain has gone to your lips, and James seems to get what you mean anyway. 

He chuckles quietly. “I am, yeah.” He makes a sound that’s almost like a sigh, hand climbing up your back until it’s trapped between your shoulders and your bed. “I don’t ever tell you how lovely you are, but I’ve…I’m sure. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I think so.” 

“That’s okay.” James kisses your chin, the curve of your jaw. 

“You’re lovely, too,” you tell him somewhat desperately. His lashes tickle your cheek. Your fingers are still burrowed in the hair at his nape. “I never tell you. I like when you’re here.” 

You feel his smile bloom against your skin. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he says, voice light with teasing. 

You frown, wishing he would take you seriously. “I do. I really like you.” 

“I think I like you more.” 

You scoff. He nips at your jaw, surprising a laugh out of you. “You can’t always win,” you say. 

James makes a happy humming sound. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[giannaln4]

Sick

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Your sickness got in the way of a romantic day Lando had planned for the both of you, but to him, making you feel better was way more important than anything. (3.1k words)

warnings: stablished relationship, sick!reader, mentions of throw up, extremely cheesy, fluff

a/n: i was supposed to post this last week when the request was made, i'm sorry it took me so long anon but i hope you like it! also i did make it a little longer and more dramatic than i had to. also this is the first request i post!! i have one more but please keep sending more ideas, i love reading what you have in mind

check out the original request here!

-> Prequel

↺ back to navigation— send me a request!

Lando had been sick last week, and you did everything to take good care of him, as much as you could. You carried medications with you, made sure he drank enough water, and gave him tea to help him feel better. You even cuddled him every night to help him sleep.

He was extremely grateful that you made sure to take good care of him. Having to give everything on track sure made it a little difficult, but he did get better eventually, and he said it was thanks to you.

What you never considered, though, was the fact that his sickness would get to you, but the next week, you felt it, and it was even more evident the night after the Austrian Grand Prix.

For some reason, it hit you harder, and the fact that you had been travelling so much didn’t help. You wanted nothing more than to sleep for days until the sickness went away, but Lando had other plans. With how busy he usually is, he always makes you his priority when he’s away from the track, so before going to bed, he shared the plans he had for the next day, including some activities that required you to get ready and leave the comfort of your home.

You both valued your time together, and you could tell how excited he was to take you out and spend the day with you, something that would also help him to take his mind off the events that took place that weekend, so you said yes.

The next morning, you felt him leave the bed, kissing your forehead goodbye as you turned around to face him.

“I have a little something to do before our date, but you can meet me at the restaurant so we can have breakfast together, yeah?” He whispered. You just nodded, and he kissed you again, whispering a little ‘I love you’ before leaving your room.

You went back to sleep as soon as he left, but the sound of your alarm woke you up an hour later. You grunted as you turned it off, looking at the time, knowing you had to start getting ready if you wanted to make it on time for your date, but your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t even leave the bed. 

Your current state was unfortunate, to say the least. A pounding headache, a runny nose, a sore throat, constant sweating, and intense body pain. There was no way you could go out.

It broke your heart to have to cancel your day with Lando, but you knew your body couldn’t take it and that he would understand.

Before notifying your boyfriend that you wouldn't make it, you looked up your symptoms to make sure you didn’t need to seek medical attention. The last thing you wanted was to end up at the hospital; you never liked them. You quickly came to the conclusion that it was a simple cold. You should’ve seen it coming; not only did you take care of Lando while he was sick, but you hadn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days and brushed it off, thinking you were just tired.

You sent him a long text explaining that you were sick and apologising a million times for cancelling the romantic day he had planned, feeling terrible for failing him.

You fell back asleep almost immediately, but sadly, not for long. Your body temperature suddenly dropped, making you shiver, so you brought up every blanket and tried to cover your entire body with them, but stopped when you suddenly felt hot again.

You were sure you had never been this sick; you were uncomfortable, your throat was incredibly dry, and your whole body was sticky from sweat. It even hurt to sneeze. You let out a loud moan in discomfort, and a few seconds later, you heard the door open.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake, and I didn’t wanna bother you,” Lando said softly, entering the room. He was holding a few blankets and pillows that covered his face, but you knew he had a worried look on his face. You covered yourself again, up to your head; you didn’t want him to see you like this, not when your hair was an absolute mess and your sleeping shirt looked like you took a shower in it.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had something to do,” you asked under the blankets.

His eyes softened when they hit the lump on the bed as he placed the stuff by your feet. “Don’t worry about that; I’m done for the day.” He approached you and kneeled next to you. “Hey, how bad is it?”

“It’s bad. I don’t wanna get you sick again,” you replied, your throat hurting every time you spoke.

“You’ll be happy to know that I don’t care.” He joked, but you remained silent. “I assume you didn’t have any breakfast yet.”

“No”

"Well, I bought you some soup. You should eat it while it’s still hot, it will be good for you.” He stared at the blankets, waiting for you to come out or at least say something "Baby, come on, let me see you.”

You appreciated him being there to take care of you; it truly warmed your heart, and all you wanted to do was show him how thankful you were, but what if he got sick again because of you? What if you look so bad right now that he will break up with you on the spot? “I don’t look good,” you finally muttered.

“What?” He chuckled, thinking you were joking.

“I’m sweating an insane amount; I can feel my hair sticking to my face.”

“Let me braid your hair so you feel less sticky on the face. I promise you’ll feel better.”

You thought about it for a moment and figured he wouldn’t leave even if you directly asked him to, so you uncovered your face slowly and shyly looked at him. “I feel really ill.”

“I know, baby. Tell me what hurts.”

“Everything. My entire body, the headache is terrible, and I get really cold, but after a second, I feel like I’m boiling.”

He touched your forehead as soon as he noticed your blushed face. “Baby, you’re really hot.”

“I know that,” you joked with a smirk on your face.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his laughter. “Good to know your sense of humour remains untouched.” He stood up and left the room, coming back in a heartbeat as he held a bowl of soup. “You’re gonna eat your soup while I braid your hair and I promise it will make you feel at least a little bit better.”

“My hair is all covered in sweat, though.” You sat on the bed, waiting for him to give you the soup.

“That’s okay. It’s hot, so please be careful.” You carefully took the bowl from his large hands, and you could see the steam that came off of it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes avoiding his as you blew on the hot liquid.

“You might feel hotter for a moment, but this is good; you need a lot of fluids. Now, I’m gonna sit behind you, okay?” You nodded, making enough space for him.

He struggled a little to get behind you, moving softly so he didn’t make you spill any of the soup. “Are you comfortable?” He asked when he finally settled.

“Yes”

“Ok, should I do one or two?” He started brushing your hair. You were right; you were sweating a lot, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to take proper care of his girlfriend, just like you did when he was sick. 

“Two”

“Okay. They might not turn out the best, though. I’m not a great hairstylist, but they will help.” You chuckled, knowing he was right, but that was the least of your worries. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to put two braids on you without pulling your hair or making your headache worse. "Done,” he said, getting back on his feet and taking a good look at how you looked with braided hair. His heartbeats began to increase. “You look really cute,” he said as he tilted his head, admiring you.

Your face was burning, and it wasn’t the fever. “Thank you. I actually do feel much better.” And you did; you were surprised at how lighter your head felt without all that hair resting on your face or shoulders.

“See? I told you.” He then kissed his fingertip and tapped your nose with it, making you melt at his touch ”Finish your soup. I’m gonna see if we still have that humidifier.”

He stepped out of the room once again, leaving you alone. Somehow, you already felt better, even though everything hurt the same. But you had to admit that the hot soup was a good call.

Once you were done with it, you laid back down carefully, not wanting to ruin the freshly styled hair. And only a few minutes later, you heard the door again, “No luck with the humidifier, but this will help too.” You paid attention to his hands. He was holding a bucket and a dry cloth in one hand and a bottle of water and some pills in the other. “Just this one last thing, and I’ll let you go back to sleep,” he said, as if he was bothering you; you didn’t feel like he was. If anything, it was the other way around, and you should be the one apologising. He put down the bucket next to the bed and waited for you to sit again, this time paying attention to your damp shirt. “Why don’t you change into some new clothes?”

You looked down at your shirt and felt embarrassed when you noticed how much it looked like you had been drowned in a rainstorm. It didn’t look that bad before, but it must’ve been the hot liquids. “Okay,” you agreed, about to get up, but he stopped you.

He wandered around your shared room, grabbing clean clothes that he believed would be comfortable for you to wear. He didn’t want you to feel too hot or too cold again, so he went for a happy medium. A shirt and underwear. You probably shouldn’t deal with too many layers anyway. “Here, I’ll help you change.”

He helped you with everything, which you were really thankful for since your body was too weak and in pain to do it by yourself. Tossing the dirty clothes somewhere in the room, he proceeded to grab the pillows he had previously set on the bed and started arranging them around you to make your uncomfortable state a little more pleasant.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, looking down at you, and you nodded in response, “Sure?”

"Positive.” Even your voice was weak.

After you were settled, he grabbed the pills and handed them to you, going for the water bottle next “This is for your headache.” He waited for you to take them and watched you get comfortable again. He then reached into the bucket and completely submerged the cloth, making sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. He stroked it over your face a few times. “You’re all good now. Why don’t you try to sleep?”

You looked up at him in pure admiration, “Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me,” you rasped out.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of my sick girlfriend?” You could swear you had literal heart eyes right now. “You took care of me when I was sick, and I´m pretty sure this is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, but you should probably get out of here. I don’t wanna get you sick again, your home race is next.” 

He shook his head and sat on the chair that was a few feet away from the bed. “What if you need something and I’m not here?”

You smiled at him again, but suddenly remembered what you were supposed to be doing. He must’ve noticed the change in your face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling next to you again as his hand rested on your cheek.

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? Why would I be mad at you?”

“For ruining our date.”

“Darling, we have a lifetime ahead of us. We have plenty of time to go on dates.”

Those words made you feel a million things at the same time, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he replied, his smile so big and sincere that his dimples made an appearance. “Try to get some sleep, yeah?”

You went back to sleep, and luckily this time you managed to rest for hours. In the meantime, Lando stayed on the bed next to you, doing some work to stay busy and awake, while he kept an eye on you in case you needed him. 

The hours went by, and your fever went away, finally. You woke up around 4 PM, slowly opening your eyes and squinting at the sudden brightness.

You scanned the room looking for Lando, but he was nowhere to be found. You figured it made sense that he left. You didn’t really expect him to stay there all day and waste his free day just to be with you.

You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You groaned in pain and fell on your back again, strangely still feeling tired even after sleeping for hours. Before you could try again, Lando was entering the room.

“You came back,” you managed to say.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just getting you some tea.” He approached you and touched your forehead, relieved that you weren’t hot anymore. “How are you feeling?”

"Better,” you replied, not so sure you wanted him to get worried. “I guess my throat still hurts.”

“I figured, but this honey and lemon tea will help with that.” He smiled at you but when you didn’t move, he could feel the worry come back to him “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like tea.”

“Tell your cold that.” You pouted like a little kid, but Lando’s face remained neutral as he waited for you to take the cup. “I know you don’t like tea, but I promise this will help. Besides, weren’t you giving me tea all the time when I was sick?” 

You gave in and took it, knowing he was right, and honestly, you would do anything to ease your sore throat.

You started drinking it, slowly but surely. It didn’t taste as bad as you remembered, and you started wondering if your mom was just bad at making tea. “Would you cuddle with me? If it’s not too gross.” You asked out of nowhere.

“Gross? Why-?”

“Because I have been sweating a lot, and it’s not like I took a shower yet,” you explained, a little embarrassed.

“Were you grossed out when I was the sick one asking for cuddles?”

You answered immediately, “No, but you weren’t this sick.”

“C’mon, don’t be silly.” He was happy you wanted to cuddle. Since he got there in the morning, he was concerned that you just wanted him out of there. Carefully, he got in bed with you, sitting against the headboard and getting into a comfortable position. He waited for you to lay down and nestled you between his legs, with your back against his front.

“Thank you for staying with me. I feel much better with you.”

“Really? Because for a moment there, it felt like you didn’t want me here.”

“I do, I really do. I just-” You stopped for a moment to think about your words “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Y/N, you know I would never think that.” He was brushing your check.

“Still, you wasted your free day and stayed here all day… for me. We couldn’t even go out like you wanted to.” You then felt guilty about your realisation. “Did you eat something today?”

“I did; I ordered something while you slept. I wanted to get some lunch for you too, but I wasn't sure for how long you’d be asleep. Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “I’m still tired.”

Lando had been sick before, and he knew it was exhausting to deal with it, but he doesn’t remember a cold taking him down like that. Still, he agreed to stay there with you while you went to sleep. Again.

A while went by, and he didn’t notice when you started to drift off, but when he felt you shivering on top of him, he opened his eyes quickly.

You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering, but your skin was so hot that he could melt chocolate on your forehead. He knew that your fever coming back and your temperature going up so quickly were bad signs.

“Y/N?” He whispered, softly moving you, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Mhm?” You hummed. You were holding the blanket tighter and closer to your body.

“How are you feeling?” He kept a low voice, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“I’m freezing.” He was about to embrace you again, but was interrupted when you abruptly sat on the bed. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He followed your actions and reached down for the bucket that was still next to the bed and placed it between your legs. ‘Not good,’ he kept thinking, rubbing your back for comfort “If that’s the case, then you’re worse than I thought, sweetheart; we might have to go to the doctor.” You didn’t like the seriousness of his voice.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

“Well, I don’t care whether you like it or not; your fever is coming back and you’re feeling nauseous. I don’t think that’s normal for a cold. You are literally shaking.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep a little more.”

“I know you don’t want to, but we really need to see a doctor.” You didn’t say anything, hoping he would just forget about that, but of course he wouldn’t. “Everything is gonna be okay. You’re here with me right now, aren’t you?” You stayed silent. “Come on, I’m gonna take you to the hospital, and I promise you’ll feel better, okay?” You nodded. You knew he was taking care of you, good care of you, but anything related to sickness, doctors, or hospitals scared you for some reason. “Hey, I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe with me. I promise,” he said, raising his pinky in front of you, satisfied when you locked it with your own.