#im just tired of this. ‘i didn’t feel that sick when i went out’ I don’t give a rats ass

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

is it not hard to just wear a mask? or call out if you don’t feel well? “oh i only felt a little off” wear a fucking mask or call out i don’t give a shit. “it’s not that big a deal” if you go out somewhere sick with no safety measures to protect other people you need to know you could potentially kill someone and i know this because people close to me have died because someone wasn’t careful when they got sick and went out and spread it

[chrissssssmut]

Femboy Wonyoung smut?

TUTOR ME SENPAI... (But not in studying)

Femboy Wonyoung x Male Reader

AN: Last fic for this week! I need to sleep bc im so tired and i feel sick😴🤒

It all started with a failing grade. Not yours—Wonyoung’s.

You had always been an above-average student, excelling enough to be recommended as a tutor by your professor. When he first gave you Wonyoung’s name, you were confused. He wasn’t the type to struggle academically. In fact, Wonyoung had always been a top student—one of those effortlessly intelligent people who barely studied yet still managed to stay at the top of the class rankings.

So why did he need a tutor?

You didn’t question it at first. Maybe he had been slipping. Maybe his extracurricular activities were distracting him. Regardless, when he approached you after class, flashing that usual confident smirk, you agreed without hesitation.

That was your first mistake.

The first session was at your place. Wonyoung had insisted, claiming he “needed a quiet environment.” The moment he stepped into your room, though, you started suspecting that studying was the last thing on his mind.

Dressed in a loose off-the-shoulder sweater that barely covered his thighs and knee-high socks that hugged his long legs, Wonyoung looked like he had stepped out of some kind of dream. A dream that should’ve been far from reality but was now sitting cross-legged on your bed, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“So, senpai,” he purred, leaning forward, his sweater slipping just enough to expose a bit more collarbone than necessary. “What subject are we covering first?”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the textbook in front of you. “Calculus. You said you needed help with integrals, right?”

“Hm,” Wonyoung hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “I do need help… but math is so boring, don’t you think? We could do something more fun.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Wonyoung, we’re here to study.”

“Oh? You’re so serious, senpai.” He giggled, scooting closer until his knee brushed against yours. “I like that about you.”

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to ignore the way his voice dipped into something more sultry. This was going to be a long night.

This pattern continued for weeks. Every study session, Wonyoung would find new ways to test your patience.

One day, he “accidentally” spilled water on his sweater, forcing him to peel it off and remain in nothing but a sheer tank top. Another time, he stretched so dramatically that his shirt rode up, exposing the smooth skin of his stomach. He even had the audacity to crawl onto your lap once, claiming it was “easier to see the equations from this angle.”

Every time, you resisted. Every time, you reminded yourself that this was just tutoring. Nothing more.

But Wonyoung wasn’t making it easy. In fact, he was making it very difficult.

It happened on a rainy evening. The storm outside raged against your window, the dim glow of your desk lamp casting shadows across your room. Wonyoung was beside you, closer than ever, his fingers trailing along the edge of your textbook instead of actually turning the pages.

“Senpai,” he whispered, voice barely above a breath. “Do you really not see it?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. More dangerous.

“See what?”

“The way I look at you,” he murmured. His fingers found their way to your wrist, tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. “The way I want you.”

Your pulse spiked. You tried to remain composed, but the weight of his words settled deep in your stomach, igniting something you had been trying to suppress for weeks.

“Wonyoung—”

“Don’t pretend you don’t feel it too,” he interrupted, shifting so that his face was mere inches from yours. “You keep pushing me away, but I know you want me.”

You swallowed hard, every rational thought in your head screaming at you to stop this before it went too far. But then Wonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Show me, senpai.”

And that was all it took for you to snap.

Your lips crashed against his before you could stop yourself, hands gripping his waist as he melted against you with a soft, pleased whimper. Wonyoung wasn’t passive—no, he kissed back with a hunger that had clearly been building for far too long. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper, until your breaths were mingling into one.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” you muttered against his lips, your hands wandering down, gripping the soft curve of his hips.

Wonyoung gasped, arching into your touch, his nails digging into your shoulders. “Then do something about it,” he challenged, voice breathy, teasing. “Or are you just going to keep holding back?”

Your patience snapped completely.

You lift Wonyoung onto the table, sending books and papers scattering to the floor as your lips crash against his. His hands wander boldly, fingers trailing down until they press against the growing bulge in your pants. He palms you through the fabric, teasing, stroking—his touch featherlight but enough to make you shudder.

A soft moan slips from your lips, and Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk, eyes dark with mischief. "So sensitive," he murmurs, his fingers applying a bit more pressure. "Have you been holding back this whole time?"

You grit your teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but the way he’s looking at you—smug and knowing—makes it impossible. "Wonyoung, you’re playing a dangerous game."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Then why don’t you punish me for it, senpai?"

You fumble with your belt, the metal clinking loudly in the quiet room as you shove your pants down in a rush. Wonyoung is already on his knees before you can even step out of them, eager hands tugging the fabric away. The moment you’re free, your cock bounces up, smacking against his cheek.

He blinks, momentarily stunned, before tilting his head with a playful grin. "Wow… you were really holding back, huh?"

Your breath is uneven as you watch him, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he licks his lips. "Wonyoung—"

He giggles, wrapping his fingers around you, stroking teasingly slow. "Don’t be shy, senpai. Let me take care of you."

Wonyoung bobs his head up and down, his warm mouth enveloping you as he takes his time, savoring every inch. The slick heat of his tongue sends shivers up your spine, and a deep moan escapes your lips before you can stop it.

"Fuck… you’re so good at this," you murmur, your fingers threading through his soft hair.

Hearing your praise, Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, eyes gleaming with mischief. He sticks out his tongue and lightly slaps the tip of your cock against it, teasing you with slow, deliberate taps.

"Hmm?" he hums, gaze locked onto yours. "You like that, senpai?"

You tighten your grip on his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you slowly push him down onto your length. Wonyoung gags, his throat tightening around you as a lewd, wet sound fills the room. His nails dig into your thighs, but he doesn’t pull away—if anything, he relaxes, letting you take control.

Saliva drips down from the corners of his mouth, trailing down his chin in messy strands, and his once-perfect makeup begins to smudge. His mascara streaks slightly under his dazed, glassy eyes, making him look even more intoxicating.

"That’s it," you murmur, voice low and breathless. "Taking it so well, Wonyoung."

Wonyoung grabs hold of your legs, his mouth still working you, taking you deeper with every move. Soft moans slip from your lips, each one louder and more desperate as he works you with precision. The feeling of his warmth and wetness has you losing control, and soon, you find yourself cursing under your breath at how perfect he’s making you feel.

After a moment, you pull him off, your chest heaving as you spin him around. He lands on his back, body arching against the table, his breathing ragged as he looks up at you, eyes wide with anticipation. You hover above him, gaze intense as you ask, “Are you ready for me?”

Wonyoung doesn’t need any more encouragement. “Please,” he breathes, voice thick with want. “I need you, senpai.”

Without hesitation, you push your cock inside him, the tight warmth almost overwhelming. A low groan escapes you as you grip his hair, pulling him closer. Your pace becomes rougher, faster, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment.

As I keep moving at my own pace, my hand wraps around his cock, beginning to stroke slowly. The sound he makes—a loud, desperate moan—slips from his lips. He gasps, his voice trembling, 'Please... don't stop... I need you.' His words break through the quiet, a desperate plea that makes everything feel even more intense.

Wonyoung glances back at me, his eyes pleading. His breath quickens as he nears his climax, and he whispers, 'Please... kiss me.' Without hesitation, I lean in, our lips meeting in a desperate kiss while my movements don’t slow. My other hand moves to stroke him in time with every push, and the heat between us builds to an unbearable intensity.

Within minutes, Wonyoung's release becomes inevitable, his body trembling as he lets go. A sharp, breathless moan escapes him, and I watch as it spills out of him. Without missing a beat, I reach down, gathering some of it in my hand, tasting him. His eyes flutter shut, a soft whimper escaping his lips. 'You... taste so good,' I murmur, my pace never faltering as I continue inside him, each movement drawing another moan from him. 'Don't stop,' he whispers, his voice barely more than a gasp.

You could feel it building, that sweet, inevitable release, so you gently told Wonyoung to kneel for you, the tension in the air thickening. As I stroked my length in front of his face, Wonyoung's voice was soft but laced with teasing, 'I know you're close... I can feel it.' He looked up at me with a mischievous smile, 'Go ahead, let go for me. You know you want to.' Her words were like a command, the way he said them speeding up my release. 'You like when I watch, don’t you? Can’t hold back any longer, can you?

‘Fuck,’ I gasped, my breath catching as Wonyoung continued to drive me crazy with his words. His lips were soft, biting gently, teasingly against my skin, and his eyes—those damn eyes—were locked on mine, full of desire and need. He licked his lips slowly, his voice a whisper, 'You’re so close... don’t fight it.' The way he said it, so sweet and demanding at the same time, sent shivers down my spine. ‘Let go for me,’ he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. 'I want to see it, want to feel it.' Each word he spoke, his gaze never leaving mine, made it harder to keep control. His hands were on me, his touch light, but enough to push me to the edge, his eyes begging for my release like he already knew it was inevitable.

My release came in waves, splattering all over Wonyoung’s gorgeous face. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as some of it dripped down his perfect skin—slowly making its way to his hair, his cheeks, his lips. A few drops even slid down his chest, glistening against his soft skin. He didn’t hesitate. His eyes, full of hunger, flickered up to mine as he licked his lips, savoring the remnants that lingered there. His fingers traced the droplets on his face before he brought them to his mouth. With a soft, almost teasing smile, he whispered, 'You taste even better than I imagined.' The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t look away from him, consumed by the way he made everything feel so intensely real, so intoxicating.

The rain had calmed by the time the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, the soft scent of him and the lingering warmth between your bodies mixing with the air. Wonyoung rested his head against your chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin, the rhythm almost soothing as the storm outside faded into a distant hum.

“So,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Does this mean I finally pass tutoring?”

You chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair, feeling his body relax under your touch. “No. You still failed your last quiz.”

Wonyoung pouted dramatically, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t bothered in the least. “Guess that means more private lessons then, huh?”

You sighed, already knowing you were doomed. “Yeah… more lessons.”

But before you could get comfortable in your exhausted state, Wonyoung lifted his head, his eyes dark with an insistent hunger. “Well, if I’m getting more lessons, why don’t we make it... a little more interesting?” He slid a hand down your chest, his fingers brushing over the lines of your abs with a teasing touch. “I think I’m still hungry for a second round.”

Your heart skipped at the words, a surge of desire flooding through you, but before you could respond, Wonyoung’s lips were on yours again—slow, teasing, coaxing you into something far less innocent than you’d originally planned. The kiss deepened, a hungry heat igniting between you two as he ground his hips against yours, reminding you just how much he craved you.

This time, studying was the last thing on your mind.

[sturnstars5]

taste- matt sturniolo

no matter what matt uses to forget you, he still always comes back…

warnings: mdni, smut, p n v, orgasm denial, oral(f!receiving), matt the munch, nipple play, suggestive terms, intended lowercase, mentions of masturbation, matt is an asshole

act 1-taking matters into his own hands

“fuck-” matt panted as he ran his hand down his hard length. he had been waiting to be alone all day so he could take care of himself, and now was his chance.

the thing was, he couldn’t come, no matter how hard he tried. he would always get close, but never go over the edge.

this always happened, and matt was sick of it. he tried everything, watched everything, he did everything he could but nothing helped. matt was tired of it.

he had only ever truly came when he was with you, you were the only one who could make matt finish. but matt didn’t want to seem desperate, unless he was truly that desperate…

act 2- “just save the act”

matt thought that maybe if he just hooked up with someone else, then maybe it would help him forget about you.

matt pulled into the driveway of a girls house that he found on tinder. matt wasn’t looking for anything special, just a casual fling. she was pretty enough and seemed okay, so she seemed like the perfect option.

she led him into the bedroom, and things started off well. matt took his clothes and her clothes off, carefully holding her in his hands as he pressed kisses down her neck and chest.

stood behind her, aligning his tip with her sopping hole.

“are ‘y ready?”

“yes!”

he slid his length in slowly, barely moving inside of her. he wasn’t even halfway in when she started making these odd noises.

they were clearly moans-just really fake ones. matt tried to ignore it, slowly thrusting into her, but her fake moans and pleas kept interrupting his pleasure.

all matt could think about was the real noises you would make. the deep, guttural grunts you would elicit when matt hit just the right spot inside of you.

at this point, there was no way matt was even gonna come close to finishing. he quickly pulled out of the girl and started to reach for his underwear.

“just save the act.” matt stated.

“what do you mean?” she asked.

“all that fake moanin’ ‘n shit, i don’t fuck with that, sorry.”

that’s all matt said before he walked out of the door, and thought to himself “maybe next time.”

act 3- “ill buy you some cranberry juice, my treat.”

after matt’s failed attempt at forgetting you the other day, he walked into today feeling better about himself.

he was meeting up with one of his brothers friends, who he actually knew this time. she was nice, pretty, and she wasn’t looking for anything more than sex.

when he walked in, she led matt upstairs, and she sat down on the bed. he sat down beside her, and she rolled over to straddle his lap.

she rolled his hips against his, creating a wet spot on his pants leg.

“hmm, s’ wet f’ me already?”

“mhm..” is all she could mutter out.

matt flopped the girl onto her back and spread her legs open, revealing a wet spot in her shorts.

he slid her shorts off, and slid her panties to the side. matt went to dive in-then he hesitated.

what the fuck was that smell?

“damn, what the fuck have y’ been drinkin’ recently?”

“what are you talkin’ about matt?”

“your pussy smells like shit, that’s what i’m talkin’ about. the fuck you been doin’ to make it smell like that?”

“leave matt, just go!” the girl says, sliding her underwear and shorts back on.

“y’know what, fine. and i’ll buy you some cranberry juice while im out, it’ll be my treat.” he remarks, slamming her door and walking away.

as he drove home, matt remembered the way you smelled while you and him had sex, he remembered the way you felt, and the way you sounded.

that’s when he realized, there was no getting over you. matt needed you bad.

act 4- “you missed me, didn’t you.”

matt hesitantly knocked on your front door, hoping you would answer nicely and not embarrass him.

you open the door, and when you notice that it’s matt, you get a mischievous glint in your eye. an unavoidable smirk plasters itself on your face.

“you missed me, didn’t you matt?” you say, not even offering a greeting to him.

“well damn, what happened ‘hi’ or ‘hello’?” matt avoids the question completely, trying to change the subject.

“cut the bullshit matt, what do you want and why are you in front of my door at 11 o’clock at night?” you ask.

“fine, y’caught me, i missed you a little, that’s all.”

“did you miss me or the sex?”

matt looks around, as if he’s looking for a clue of what to say or something.

“uhm, both?” he plasters on a cheesy fake smile, which makes you laugh a little.

“come inside matt.”

“anything to make you come, sweetheart.”

act 5- “your so perfect.”

the second matt stepped into your room, his lips crashed onto yours. his hands traveled all over your body as he walked you to the bed, setting you down.

he peeled off your shirt, kissing down your neck and chest. next he unclasped your bra, the cold air surrounding you mixed with your arousal making your nipples hard.

matt kissed your breasts, circling his tongue especially around your nipple, giving each one equal attention. your chest was always his favorite thing about you.

“m-matt…” you trail off. he hadn’t barely done anything yet and you were unable to form words. as much as you hated to admit it, matt was the best.

matt took your sleep shorts off and discarded them onto the floor, revealing your lack of panties and extremely noticeable arousal.

“no panties f’me, hm? just the way i like it sweetheart.”

you always loved it when matt called you sweetheart, and apparently he had remembered it too. he remembered everything about you.

matt kneels down on the grown as you have your exposed hole right over his face, lying on the bed. you need his touch, you need him so badly, and he needs you too.

he dives in like a starved man, lapping up all of your juices. his tongue circles around your clit as you grab fistfuls of his hair.

“oh matt, fuck.” you whimper. the sound is like music to matt’s ears, which makes him go more feral on your pussy.

matt takes his middle and ring finger and shoves them in your cunt, curling them so they hit just the right spot inside of you.

“matt, im-m’ s’close, oh fuck-” matt stops right there, quickly pulling his fingers out of you.

“why’d you stop?” you complain.

“you’re not about to come yet sweetheart, c’mere.”

matt climbs on top of you, frantically ripping off his pants and pulling down his boxers.

his hard erection springs out of his boxers, leaking precum as he runs his hand down his long, hard length.

“are you ready for me?” he asks, aligning himself with your entrance.

“mhm, please matt, please-”

“please what? use your words sweetheart.”

“please put it in.”

your pussy was clenching around nothing, you were so desperate for matt to touch you again.

matt took pity on you, sliding the tip of his dick along your wet, puffy folds. the feeling of that alone could make you come at this point.

he carefully slides his whole dick in, groaning as he feels your gummy walls clench around his hard length. oh how he had missed this.

he slowly started making long thrusts, his tip grazing your cervix each time he moved. you squeezed him hard, needing release.

“stop squeezin’ me s’hard, i wanna last longer than two minutes.” matt chuckles, even though you both know he’s not joking.

“matt, m’gonna come.” you groan breathlessly.

“not yet, i’m almost there though.”

he kept getting faster with his thrusts, ramming into your pussy as hard as humanly possible. matt reaches his hand down to rub little circles on your clit.

“alright sweetheart, you can come now.”

the giant knot that had formed in your stomach releases, your pussy pulsating on matt’s dick.

matt comes seconds after you, his hot liquid filling up your hole, mixing with your own juices. his dick twitches inside of you, making him groan.

he slowly pulls out of you, putting his clothes back on, leaving you naked and breathless on the bed.

“where are you going, matt?”

“i’ll be back tomorrow.”

a/n: idk whether to hate or love this😬

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

taglist: @zenithsturniolo @mattslilies @sweetlikesug4rvenom @lvrsturniolo

comment on here if you wanna be added the the taglist!

[luvseisagi]

— return her favor.

ft. sakura haruka x reader. wc. 3.4k

summary. when he got sick at the beginning of the week, you took care of him. now, it's you who's sick —and it's his turn to return your favor. content. fem!reader, fem pronouns used, pure fluff, boy next door!sakura, everyone likes teasing the poor boy when he blushes. inspired by s2 ep17. a bit ooc, i think. author's note. im whipped. im down bad. im head over heels . i knowwwwiknow but hes just so cute icant.. love him sm.. little kitty boy (kaji too)... :(( also im not 100% happy with how this turned out but ive been thinking about a scene like this so much i needed to write it

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) ! enjoy

you are sick.

not figuratively —you really are. you’ve caught the flu, a nasty cold, or whatever virus that's left you bedridden, feverish, for so many hours that they feel like eternity. 

when it started, you thought you were sneezing so frequently because you were allergic to something, since spring had just begun. however, it only got worse as the week went on, until you ended up in the state you’re in now.

body sprawled on the futon on the floor —your arm is folded in a weird way, your legs half under half out of the blanket—, it’s the only position you’ve found that lets you be even a little comfortable and breathe without choking every two minutes. your skin is paler than usual, except for your face, flushed pink and covered in a thin sweat layer.

you’re on the edge of delirium.

you should have seen this coming. no, you actually did see it coming, but you had such a busy week —working extra hours at the restaurant at nights, repainting the facade of the establishment after some vandals had graffitied the wall, assisting all your classes and doing all your homework—, you'd had no time for worrying about getting sick or getting medicine. 

besides, taking into account that your daily life is on the other side of the city —you live in your apartment, if it can even be called like that, only because the rent is affordable for you—, the time you spend just going to school and work and coming back home takes a considerable part of your day. 

plus, at the start of this week, your next door neighbor had gotten sick too —and every free time of your days had been spent on taking care of sakura. 

you didn’t even think about the possibility of him giving you the flu until you woke up this morning. work was already hard yesterday —even your boss had sent you home before your shift ended, since he could see how tired you looked—, and you hadn't slept more than two full hours, so all you were able do in the morning was send a text to your coworkers to ask for someone to cover your shift today and fall asleep again.

four hours later of feverish dreams and a very uncomfortable mix of heat and cold going throughout your whole body, you are so thirsty and hungry you could eat a whole menu from the restaurant you work in. however, getting up seems almost impossible in the state you are in, so you let yourself lay under the blanket a while more. 

you’re about to fall asleep again, ignoring the cries for help of your stomach, when you hear the door of your apartment open.

there’s no greeting, no warning, no announcement about who just entered without permission. but only a few people have a key to your place, so the list of suspects is short —still, of all the possible people, you definitely didn’t expect to see sakura haruka standing in the cramped little space that makes up your room.

“i brought you something.” is all he says before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside you, placing a plastic bag full of things in his lap and beginning to pull things out one by one. 

sakura is your next-door neighbor. he moved to the apartment beside yours at the beginning of the school year, just as alone in his place as you were in yours. at first, he came off as cold —maybe even a little rude— but it didn’t take long for you to realize he was just shy, especially around people who offered help without expecting anything in return. 

your first interaction had been on an especially cold evening during his first week living there. you had heard him through the wall, cursing softly and clearly frustrated —mumbling something about not figuring out how to get the hot water working. you were pretty sure he even punched the wall out of frustration after his third cold shower.

so you showed up at his door, holding a slice of leftover cake from the restaurant as a welcome gift and offering your help —partly because you’re a decent person, but mostly because you were worried the building might not survive more than a couple more punches.

“i can’t cook anything for you,” he's saying now. a few months have passed since you met “but i brought instant soup. i didn’t know what flavor you liked, so i grabbed one of each. just in case.”

he spreads the contents of the bag on the floor —six different packs of soup, a few bottles of water and sugary drinks, cold compresses for the fever, some medicine, vitamins, and a single flower.

you manage a weak smile.

“thank you” your voice is thick with congestion. it requires you making a great effort to extend your arm, and point to the end of the row of things on the floor “i get the food, the clothes and the pills. what’s the flower for, though?” 

you are too exhausted to lift your head and look at him, but you’re sure he’s blushing when he answers.

“umemiya told me to give it to you. said it would help you feel better.”

he’s clearly flustered —you can hear it in his voice— and probably grateful you can’t see how red his face is right now.

you chuckle softly.

“it does.” you say “it’s really pretty. thank you, sakura.” 

and the poor guy is now blushing even harder.

he found out you were sick this morning. usually, he would hear your door every morning before he left for school —you always left earlier than him, since your classes and your job are both on the other side of the city. but today, there was only silence. no sound of the coffee machine, no rustling clothes, no soft curses about running late. 

he might’ve ignored it, but he remembered you telling him how busy this week would be, how you couldn’t afford to miss classes with exams just around the corner. you had said all that while taking care of him when he was sick —thinking he was asleep. but he heard every word.

so when he saw light under your door and knocked with no response, he panicked. he didn’t care about being late to class, no one in furin would really care. so he grabbed the emergency key you’d given him just in case and let himself in.

the apartment was dark, except for the faint glow coming from under the door of your bedroom. you didn’t answer when he called your name —quietly, not wanting to startle you— so he stepped inside.

then he saw you

you were huddled under the blanket, your phone still in your hand like you’d fallen asleep waiting for a message or a call. your limbs stretched out across the futon, half uncovered, as if the heat was unbearable —but you were shivering like you were freezing.

it was more than obvious you were sick, but he didn’t want to wake you. you looked anything but peaceful, but you also looked exhausted, and he knew how hard your week had been. so he just stood there for a moment —then quietly stepped back out.

later, across town at furin, sakura was so distracted thinking about you, he tripped over suo twice during patrols.

“what’s bothering you, sakura?” suo asked, catching his arm before he could fall again. “you look worried.”

the two-colored-hair guy stood up straight, freeing himself from his friend's grasp —again, and mumbled a "thank you", avoiding his gaze.

“it’s nothing. just...” he’d told them about you before, but mentioning you in front of his classmates still made him go red. “yn’s sick, and i want to help her”

suo raised a brow.

"oh, i see." he said, a grin growing on his face.

“i mean, because she helped me when i was sick. and i want to return her the favor, i owe her.” sakura added quickly, now flustered.

it’s tsugeura who intervened then.

"yn? the neighbor you're always talking about?”

“i don't always talk about her!" sakura protested.

right then, as if summoned by some invisible signal, nirei, kiryu, and the others turned around, stopping dead.

"she's sick? seriously?" nirei asked, already pulling out his phone like he was about to write down a shopping list.

overwhelmed, sakura could only nod.

"i want to bring her something to help her feel better."

so, when returning to the class with the rest of his classmates, sakura found himself stuck in the middle of an impromptu meeting, surrounded by half his class in a discussion about what to bring you to feel better.

“we should buy some medicines and vitamins for her!” nirei was saying, his concern genuine. 

he didn’t even know you personally—none of them did. but since their grade captain seemed completely smitten for you, they were all too happy to help out on his behalf.

“she was shivering but looked flushed?” suo asked after hearing sakura’s description of how he had found you “sounds like a fever. we should get some cold compresses, and medicine too”

“eating is important too, in case she wakes up hungry” kiryu added “soup could be good. and a drink she likes, sugary for her to regain strength.” 

the conversation spiraled for a while, everyone adding something new they should bring to their grand captain’s neighbor —who was, definitely, not as excited as them.

it was not only the worry for your wellbeing now, it was a tight, bitter feeling in his stomach. if he had to define the sensation, he would have catalogued it as very uncomfortable and very weird.

because he didn’t like the idea of his classmates —his friends, he reminded himself— taking care of you, or buying things for you, at all. he knew they were just trying to help him, but going to your apartment and looking after you personally?

no. he didn’t want that.

first of all, sakura didn’t want them to meet you at all. yes, he’d told them about you several times —when you helped him with the hot water of the shower, the times you’ve brought him leftover desserts from your restaurant because you know he likes them, or when you went to his house, despite having a very busy day and being tired, to make sure his fever was going down and that he was eating properly. 

sakura never let on how much you meant to him —but you’re precisely that: part of his life, not theirs. and maybe it wasn’t fair, but he didn’t want to share you.

second of all, he didn’t want you to meet them either. he would never say it out loud, but the thought terrified him —that you’d fall for suo’s kindness, nirei’s soft smile or kiryu’s charm; that you’d just realize that everyone has something better than him. 

more than anything, he just wanted to stay your favorite.

was that selfish?

“i will do it.” he said, then, cutting off the class' whole conversation “i’ll buy everything you said, and go take care of her myself. after all, it’s me who gave this virus to her.” all the eyes moved to him in this new silence. then he realized he might had appeared ungrateful, so he added —“and, um. thank you all. for your help.”

none of his classmates answered, though. he felt a little intimidated by the silence.

suo was grinning, kiryu had raised an eyebrow, and tsugeura was the one who asked out loud what everyone was thinking —“¿what do you mean you gave the virus to her?”

sakura found himself out of words for a few seconds.

“well, she took care of me when i was sick, too.” he finally said, looking away “i told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted on staying the night with me in case my fever raised while asleep. i think she got it then."

“oh. so she stayed the night at yours?”

suo laughed. tsugeura asked again.

“and how close were you two, for her to get your sickness too?”

sakura realized then what they were implying. his cheeks got tinted by a pale shade of pink when he shook his head, panicked.

“no! no, it’s nothing like that. she just… she helped me, that’s all. i didn’t event want her to, my plan was to wait until i felt better, but she insisted on staying…”

but there was no turning back now. during the rest of the morning, the only thing sakura received was a constant teasing from his classmates —it was so bad, that at the end of the school day, before going back home, umemiya reached him to give him a flower for his sick girlfriend, who would definitely appreciate it, and it would make her feel better.

so here he is now, telling you how all his classmates —all his friends— helped him to choose what he had to bring for you, his cheeks and nose slightly flushed and his hand absentmindedly on the back of his neck.

and, even after the soup and emptying a whole bottle of water, your forehead is still hot and the fever remains blurring your thoughts. so, now looking him at his eyes —thinking how cute he looks when he isn’t able to hold your gaze— you don’t rethink it when straightly saying out loud:

“you look so pretty when you blush.” 

and you know you’ve messed him up, because he’s blushing even harder, and he stutters when telling you about his journey on the search of the best soup flavor. 

you can't but let slip a low giggle when he finishes his story.

“thank you so much for coming, sakura.” you thank him, knowing well he isn’t able to say anything right now —you've never seen anyone get so timid after a compliment “i mean it.” 

still shy, he lowers his head and looks at his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“it’s nothing, really. i’m just returning you the favor, for helping me when i was sick.” 

you both know that’s not true at all, but none of you mentions it. you play along, then —“still. im glad you’re taking care of me, even if it’s just because you feel you owe me.” 

sakura waits a few seconds before answering this one. he has stopped playing with his shirt, and is now distracted folding the clothes he used as cold compresses. 

he mumbles, almost unintelligibly, his reply.

“i’m taking care of you because i do care about you.” 

you giggle at his cheeks becoming even redder after his word.

“what did you say? i think i didn’t hear you, sorry.” you ask, teasing him a little.

there's a moment of silence after that—not awkward, but warm, lingering.

sakura has gone quiet again. you’re both still, the soft hum of your room’s air-conditioning the only sound between you. his gaze flickers to yours for a second, then drops to his hands again. you can see his fingers fidget with the hem of his shirt again, then still, as if trying to gather courage.

the air feels different now —not fever-warm, but tender.

to your surprise, he suddenly raises his head, and fixes his gaze on yours —grey and gold eyes shining under the warm light of your room. looks like he's lost all shyness, even if only for a moment.

“i said i do care about you. not only for a favor.” sakura repeats, now louder. and right after, all the courage he gathered seems to disappear from his body, because he, again, looks away “and i want you to feel better… so that you can, uh, come with and try that omurice im telling you about all the time."

you raise a brow. he does the same, but he looks funny, because his gaze is on the door of the closet —it looks like he's trying to tease your clothes, and not you.

“unless you don’t wanna come, of course, but i assure you you’d be missing the opportunity of a lifetime.” he adds.

a soft chuckle leaves your lips, and you can’t help it —mirroring his, your cheeks turn a pale shade of pink that has nothing to do with the fever that finally starts disappearing. 

since he opened your window, the birds’ whistling fill the room as background noise, sun rays tickling your exposed skin —you have long forgotten the blanket, due to the heat of the apartment, on a corner of your room. 

you’re sitting on the futon now, hands playing with the only compress he didn’t yet fold. you are not really sure of how, or when, has the atmosphere become so intimate, but you feel the need to whisper the next time you talk.

“yeah, sakura.” you say, eyes lingered on his black and white down eyelashes. suddenly, you feel too flustered to look at him in the eyes. 

it's an answer to the question he hasn't yet asked.

“yeah, what?” he asks, looking at you again. “you don’t wanna come?”

you shake your head, then smile sweetly. 

“yeah, i would be missing the opportunity of a lifetime if i didn’t try that omurice you tell about all the time, going on a date with you.”

sakura doesn't respond immediately.

in fact, you’re pretty sure you just broke him —he just stares at you, stunned, as if unsure if whether you just said was real or part of your fever's delirium. but then, very slowly, he smiles.

it's small, shy, but completely sincere. and for a second, it feels as if the warmth in your face isn't from the fever anymore—but from him, and the way he looks at you like you are his opportunity of a lifetime. 

you both stay quiet for a while, wrapped in warmth, in sunlight, in something that feels a lot like a beginning. small smiles in both your faces, as if sharing a secret no one but you know about.

you can’t help but stare. 

he looks so pretty —cheeks tinted pink, two colored hair disheveled, pressed reddish lips due to bashfulness, the collar of his white plain shirt revealing part of his collarbones. 

you had thought he was handsome, the first time you saw him, carrying boxes into his new apartment. then you discovered he was more on the cute side, after getting to know him and learning how sweet he is —even despite his tsundere personality.

as if refuting your trail of thoughts, he breaks the eye contact and you let out a sincere, soft giggle.

“cute.” you say, a smirk on your face.

“shut up.” his face is, again, all red under the black and white frame of his hair. he mumbles “you’re cuter.” 

then he gets up, still avoiding your gaze —that follows him, entertained, as he picks up the empty bowl of soup and carries it to the kitchen. after leaving it on the sink, he takes the medicine and a bottle of water, and passes them to you.

“come on, now, take your meds,” your expression says it everything, disgust clear on your face when he brings the pill to you. he raises both brows, and now it’s his turn to smirk “or, i will not be able to take you on that date you talk about.” 

you groan as a complain, but still take the pill he’s offering you, and swallow it with a long sip of water, obediently. 

as he walks back toward the kitchen, you can’t help but smile softly.

“if this is how you’re going to take care of me, i might have to get sick more often.”

sakura chuckles, and doesn't hesitate before replying —his voice coming lightly from behind the kitchen door, where you can’t see his face.

“are you sure about that?” he calls back  “that’s a shame, ‘cause my mom always said sick people couldn’t get kisses —and i’m not really the type to go against her advice.”

you roll your eyes, grinning, with no comeback on the tip of your tongue at all. he wins this one, surprisingly.

you never thought you’d end up falling for the shy kitty-looking boy next door —but your heart’s not exactly complaining.

masterlist.

pls lmk what u think in the comments, reblogging, through messages, asks or wtv!! feedback is important to me in these first posts and i'd appreciate it a lot 🤲🏼

﹫luvseisagi, may 2025.

[st4rr-girrl]

Stranger

M.R

Summary; You thought Mattheo was different, but he’s just like everyone else.

Warnings; swearing, mentions of sex, nsfw, underage smoking & drinking, angst. Douchebag Mattheo.

Inspired by Stranger - By Jhene Aiko

I ain’t posted in hella long im sorry if u thought I was dead xox 🥰🥰😘💋💋💋

Pt 2

We at 700+ followers yall!! I love u guys 🥺🥺💋❤️❤️

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You tried to ignore the familiar feeling you would get each time you were around Mattheo. The stinging that tickled your irises each time you started to view him in a new light, each time you saw everybody else in his features.

Why was this such a common occurrence during the span of your relationship? You and Mattheo never talked, and if you did- it was only in bed. It was exhausting and you couldn't deny that.

He was starting to look more and more like the people who had used you in the past. The ones who discarded your well-being for their own sick pleasure. You stared at him from across the Slytherin table, an inexplainable sadness etched onto your tired features.

Mattheo was the last person you expected to turn out like a copy and paste of your past experiences.

It wasn’t always like this. He used to be lovingly attentive, affectionate and gentle with you.

He noticed your gaze, his brow arching in silent question. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, forcing your eyes off of him. He shrugged dismissively, recentering his attention to the conversation he was in the midst of.

What hurt even more, was the fact that you had told him about the others. Every single one of them that he had promised you he wasn’t like. And you trusted him.

But he lied.

He didn’t care. He never did. And if that information wasn’t crystal clear, you didn’t know what was.

Daphne nudged your side, her brows furrowing in concern as she scanned your melancholic features. “You alright, lovely?” She asked gently.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter and shakier than you had intended— blinking back the tears that threatened to escape your glossy eyes. “I’m okay.”

She gave you an unbelieving look, but decided against being pushy. “Okay, babe. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” She offered a soft smile, her brows furrowing.

“Sure,” you replied, a grateful tone to your voice as you nodded.

She went back to chatting with Pansy, and you found your regretfully longing gaze flickering back to Mattheo. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Because it did. It hurt so bad.

He wasn’t paying you any mind, blatantly unconcerned despite the sadness he found in your expression. He boasted about something or other to Theo and Blaise— both of the boys watching him verbally show off in amusement. Usually, you would have been fond of the sight. He was an idiot, but he was your idiot. Or— well, he was.

It was routine for you now. This wasn’t your first rodeo— you knew how this worked.

So, the same night— when he laid you down in your dorm room, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. Not that he cared, or anything.

And when he left, you lied in bed— your gaze locked onto the ceiling. You’d lazily thrown a t-shirt and underwear back on— Mattheo nowhere to be seen. He didn’t even have the decency to stay back and make sure you were okay, and help clean you up. Not like he used to, anyways.

The hickeys and bite marks littering your skin were a constant reminder of what once was. Shame engulfed your body, an all too familiar feeling.

You couldn’t control the tears beginning to spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks in a rapid manner. You broke down, your body wracking with sobs— burying your face into a pillow to muffle said sobs.

When your roommates walked in, Daphne and Pansy, they immediately saw your state— rushing to your sides and consoling you as you fell apart. They shared a worried glance, knowing exactly what— or in this case, who— caused this.

Over the next few days, you’d been avoiding him. Daphne and Pansy both covered for you, giving Mattheo bullshit and half assed excuses as to why you couldn’t see him.

But, it’s not like he was actively searching for you, anyways.

You thought you were indifferent to this by now. You wanted to be. But you actually trusted him this time, you loved him.

But as you stared at him from across the Potions classroom, watching as he flirted shamelessly with girls who hung onto his every word— you knew you’d never become accustomed to the hurt and pain that followed betrayal.

You knew you had to cut things off, and that’s exactly what you did. You couldn’t allow yourself to mope around aimlessly for any longer.

After class, you pulled him into an empty hallway and went off— cussing him out in an emotion fueled rant. He got what he wanted, and he no longer needed you. He made that very obvious.

He replied with a simple, “okay,” before turning and disappearing down the hallway. You watched as he left, the sound of your heart shattering echoing throughout your own ears.

———-

[sexlapis]

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.��� you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

[moonlight-alexia]

stubborn | c.f.

caitlin foord x cooney-cross!reader | 1.8k | caitlin takes care of you while you're sick, once you let her

ˏˋ°•*⁀ based on this ask! hope you enjoy it! i do love my cooney-cross reader a lot <3 hope it's good enough and worth the wait in between all my fics <3 sorry im not very consistent lately!

‘Cait, I’m fine. Just let me sleep,’ You groaned, swatting Caitlin’s hands away from trying to feel your forehead. It was the last day before proper training and matildas camp started so everyone was hanging around the pool relaxing. Normally you’re way too full of energy to just lay around and everyone expected to have found you already in the pool. So your girlfriend was concerned when you told your sister to go away when she tried to drag you into the pool.

‘You’re warm,’ Your eyes closed didn’t stop you from rolling them and groaning internally. You could hear Caitlin’s worry in her voice and you appreciated how much she cared for you and how much she loves you. But you don't need her to worry about you, she should be relaxing and enjoying the bit of down time she has before prep for the olympics starts.

‘I’m laying in the sun babe, of course I’m going to be warm,’ Opening your eyes you smiled towards Caitlin, your hand finding her own, slipping your fingers between hers. You could tell Caitlin wasn’t fully convinced even if she was willing to drop the subject for now, though you knew you were about to be given an almost unlimited supply of water to keep you hydrated and an extra close eye kept on you. 

You were just tired and needed some deep rest, there’s nothing else wrong with you. At least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. Caitlin didn’t need to know that every time you opened your eyes the pounding in your head increased and was almost unbearable. She didn’t need to know just how much your body was aching and how much energy it took you to move from your bed this morning down to the lounge you were currently laying on. 

She didn’t need to know how your skin may have felt warm but you were feeling so cold and wished you were wrapped up in a blanket while laying in the sun. Or the way you felt nauseous every single time you stood up.But there was nothing wrong with you, you weren’t sick. At least you thought that if you could trick your mind into not accepting that you were sick, then you would stop feeling as poorly as you do right now. 

Leaning up you pressed your lips against Caitlin’s cheek, leaving a couple of small kisses, while you moved your hand to rest against her hip. You purposely ignored the pout she gave you when you subtly refused to kiss her lips. Not wanting to risk the chance of Caitlin ending up how you’re feeling. You tightened your grip on her hip and left a big kiss against her cheek before pulling Caitlin down so she was semi laying on top of you. Running your hands along her side, peppering her face with little kisses.

‘Get a room,’ You heard your sister yell before you were both splashed with water from the pool. 

‘Go away Kyra, annoy someone else,’ Mumbling out before giving all your attention to your girlfriend. 

Even though it was warm in the sun, you were still feeling cold so you didn’t let Caitlin go, not until you eventually fell asleep and she was able to slip out. Not that she went far from you, only to wet a little towel to keep on your forehead so you wouldn’t overheat while you got the rest that you needed. 

The next time you woke up, you were suddenly in bed in your hotel room with the sun just starting to come through the blinds. Caitlin never had the heart to wake you when you seemed so exhausted, so she ended up carrying you from the lounge beside the pool all the way up to your room. Not without getting teasing comments from some of your teammates, mainly Kyra, Alanna and Steph.

‘Good morning, sleepy head,’ Caitlin whispered once she realised you had woken up. You lifted your head up and instantly closed your eyes to stop everything from spinning around you, ‘Are you okay?’ Caitlin’s hands steadied your body that you didn’t realise was swaying a little bit. The sleep and rest hadn’t helped you at all, instead you think it made you worse. 

‘Yep, just hungry Cait. You let me sleep through dinner,’ Taking a deep breath, you leaned into her hand that was now cupping your cheek. Opening your eyes to look at Caitlin, you pouted a little. Caitlin thought you were pouting because of what you just said and to add a little bit of a dramatic effect like you normally would. But instead you were pouting because the ache in your body had increased and the throbbing in your head was too loud to handle.

Somehow, you dragged your body out of bed, dressed and sat down to eat food before training. You were doing your best to convince everyone you were fine, you just needed more rest but you could still train and play in the match against Canada tomorrow. You really wanted to play at least once more before the Olympic matches came around, wanting to be as prepared as you could be.

So even while your body was screaming at you to slow down and take it a bit easier and to actually rest, you ignored it and kept pushing yourself. Lucky for you that the sun and warmth was an easy excuse for how warm your skin was, your hair sticking to your face from all the sweat that covered your body. But also unlucky for you that the sun was so warm, causing you to feel more light headed and harder to not lose focus on training while you were trying to focus on staying upright.

‘Mate, I think you should slow down,’ You let out a small groan when Alanna had placed her hand on your back, your body so sensitive that even a small touch was uncomfortable against your skin. Alanna had been on the receiving end of your girlfriend's worries about you over the last 24 hours. She’d reassured Caitlin that she’d also look out for you, both of them, if not everyone, knowing how stubborn you can get.

‘Lani I’m fine,’ You rolled your eyes and sprayed her with your water bottle you had been drinking out of. Laughing, as best you could without causing a coughing fit, before walking back out to training.

Though you didn’t get far back into training when you heard a slight ringing in your ears, everything else being drowned out, your vision became patchy before your legs and body gave out. 

Alanna was the first to you, calling out to Caitlin who wasn’t far away but wasn’t facing your direction to have noticed you passed out, ‘What happened?’ The fear and concern in Caitlin’s voice was evident, Kyra was right behind Caitlin leaving Steph behind to get the medical team to help you. 

‘I don’t think she’s too well-’ Alanna started before Caitlin cut her off.

‘You think?’ As if it wasn’t obvious to anyone that you weren’t doing well with the fact you had passed out at training. Kyra gently placed a hand on Caitlin’s shoulder and Caitlin immediately apologised to her best friend, Alanna knew she was just worried about you. 

Caitlin’s attention was on you, her hands were cradling your face gently until the medical team arrived to check you over. It was assumed that you’d hit your head against the ground when you fell so for precautions they’d put a neck brace and were going to put you on a stretcher.

‘Hey, you’re okay,’ Caitlin spoke softly, running her hand over your hair, making sure none of it was in your face, ‘They just want to get some scans done to make sure you aren’t hurt,’ Caitlin noticed the slight confused expression that washed over your face briefly when you noticed where you were.

‘What happened?’ Your voice was scratchy and it hurt more than you remembered. Immediately, Caitlin helped you have some water to help ease the pain in your throat.

‘You passed out and fell pretty bad. It’s strange seeing Kyra so worried,’ Your sister was a pretty easy going person and if you had managed to worry her then you knew you were worse than you thought. You also noticed the way Caitlin’s expression shifted when she mentioned Kyra being worried and you knew that she was just as worried. 

You’d never actually passed out before. Even when you’d tried to push through illnesses all throughout your life, still playing football even with a fever multiple times, you’d still listen to your body or someone else around you and slow down. This was the first time you’d ignored every sign and it was definitely something you’d learn from.

‘I’m sorry for worrying you,’ Even if she never said it directly, you’d been with Caitlin long enough to be able to read her quite well, ‘I didn’t want to worry you. I thought if I didn’t acknowledge I was sick then I wouldn’t actually be sick,’ Caitlin rolled her eyes playfully at you, shaking her head, amused was one word she could use to describe it.

‘You’re lucky you’re cute and I love you,’ Caitlin leaned down, placing a soft kiss against your forehead. You closed your eyes and smiled small, enjoying having your girlfriend close to you.

Later that night you found yourself cuddled up against Caitlin in your hotel room, your scans came back clear although you hadn’t been cleared to play with your exhaustion and illness, ‘They’re not letting me play,’ You mumbled out against Caitlin’s chest, where your head was laying, eyes closed. 

‘Baby, I wasn’t going to let you even think about playing,’ Caitlin chuckled softly, of course you’d still be thinking about going back out onto the pitch and playing after a day like today. You let out a little mumble to try to argue back with her, but nothing really came out once Caitlin started rubbing small circles against your back, ‘Next time just let me help you. You don’t have to be strong or push through it by yourself all the time. I’ve got you,’ 

You smiled and tried to cuddle closer to her, you were already wearing Caitlin’s shorts and hoodie, you couldn’t possibly get any closer to her but you still tried, ‘You’re the best and I love you so much,’ Smiling while looking up at Caitlin, eyes softening more when she looked down to see you looking at her, ‘You take the best care of me, thank you,’

You really did think that, maybe you were a little biased. But Caitlin was always so soft taking care of you whenever you needed her too. Until you were better she never let you out of her sight, always making sure you were taking your medicine, staying hydrated and most importantly that you were actually resting. 

‘I’ll always take care of my girl,’ Caitlin kissed your temple softly, letting her lips linger against your head. Leaning her forehead against yours, ‘I love you too, more than you’ll ever know,’ With Caitlin taking care of you, it wasn’t long before you were back to your normal self, reuniting with your sister to pester everyone on camp.

[betterinvienna]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ

caleb x gen!reader

masterlist ao3 requests

synopsis:

Caleb is sick. So very sick. He loves you so much.

The gunshot, this time, still doesn’t wake the neighbors.

He loves you too much.

How could anyone deserve you? Will you stay? Please?

Say yes.

[ 3.8k words — dark(?) romance — warnings: murder, drugging, kidnapping ]

author's note:

it's my first time writing something like this, but i love caleb so i'm trying my hand at it and hoping that i get better at it. oh. and im a lore skipper so please forgive me if anything is ooc here. please listen to angel by massive attack while reading. thank you for reading!!! i hope u like

It’s Tuesday, and it’s your only day off.

Four years in an esteemed university, a marketing degree, and top-notch grades, and you’re working at the same firm as your high school ex-friends. You’d berate yourself for the pathetic nature in which you’ve ended up, but you’re much too tired often days to think much past what you’re having for dinner. Spoiler: it’s pizza, again.

On your days���sorry, day—off, you enjoy hanging out with friends or simply staying home. Something as simple as a spaghetti dinner with an extremely corny Netflix Original is enough to satisfy you. This Tuesday, your friend Caleb has offered to take you out to the pier down south. You declined, though, because you’re going on a date with your boyfriend today. Caleb isn’t trapped in the same whirlpool you are—after high school, he went to pilot school and now flies commercial airplanes for a living. You bite your lip in envy, wishing you had taken the same path. Alas, you didn’t, and your company laptop bings with an email. You decide not to check it, instead opting to lazily dip your hand into a party-sized bag of Doritos.

You met Caleb one day in the library, studying for your seemingly useless marketing degree. You spoke, exchanged your then high opinions on your paths of study and interests, and waved each other goodbye. From then on, he found you each time you were at that library, offering to study with you but instead, each time inevitably going into an unrelated conversation. This continued until you exchanged numbers and graduated—you figured you wouldn’t see Caleb after that, but he persisted in maintaining your friendship. 

In a way, you’re thankful for him. You’re thankful, even though you don’t tell him, that he’s stuck around so long.

You pop your fingers into your mouth to clean the Dorito dust off of them as your boyfriend, Nate, texts you. Nate is a good guy, sure. But your relationship feels more like a friendship nowadays. You love him; you really do, and you’ve tried to mend the bond. Over-the-top Valentine’s day gifts, excessive PDA, constant love declarations—needless to say, the deterioration of this relationship simply cannot be accredited to your laziness, but rather, his. You know this, yes, but you also hope the date today will fix everything. Will make him love you again. You reluctantly check your phone, fearing an apology rather than an “are you ready?” message. Instead, it’s a simple two word message: “call me.”

So you do.

Nate picks up after two dials. “Hello?”

“Nate?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He says, as if he forgets his own name. “Look…”

You sigh. “No,” you deny hearing whatever he’s going to say, “I already made the reservations.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he says the baby hesitantly, as if it's a curse word, “something came up. I just can’t make it.”

You shake your head and rub your temple from beyond the screen. “It’s fine.” You mumble and respond in a tone much softer than the last. “Call me when you’re free, okay?”

Nate does not respond. He hums an illegitimate answer and hangs up, leaving you to your own devices and sticky Dorito fingers.

As if it was second nature, you take those Dorito fingers and use them to dial Caleb instead, not wanting your reservation to be completely wasted. Like he was waiting for your call on the other end of the phone, he picks up immediately.

“Hey, pip-squeak,” he chirps, “what’s up?”

You mournfully groan. “Are you busy today?”

Caleb takes a pregnant pause, as if he’s doing something right now. Something clanks in the background, confirming your suspicions. “No.” 

“You’re lying.”

“Not. Whaddya wanna do?”

Selfishly, you offer the schedule anyway. “My boyfriend cancelled on me.” On the other end of the line, Caleb makes a sympathetic noise. You continue. “Had a reservation at that restaurant down at the pier today. Are you coming?” 

“Abso—yeah, I am. When?”

You sigh, preparing to be met with further pities. “Three hours. I know it’s short notice, I don’t expe—”

“I’ll pick you up?”

You scoff. “Yeah. Thank you, Caleb, really.”

“Anytime, pip-squeak.”

—

Beggars can’t be choosers is the mantra you repeat when Caleb picks you up on his motorcycle again. The helmet forces your hair into an ugly shape, the speed of the bike shifts your insides, and the perilous nature of it all is an extreme deterrent. 

Unfortunately, Caleb just ruffles your hair as you pout at your mode of transportation. 

“It’ll be just 5 minutes,” Caleb assures you, “hop on.” He pushes a helmet onto you and flips the glass part of it down, giving you a stomach-churning smirk as he does the same for himself and pats the area behind him. You reluctantly get on, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs the motorcycle. 

“Hang on, pip-squeak!”

You yell over the engine. “I’ll try!”

He punctuates your words by letting his foot off of the brake, finally sending you two down the street. “You okay?”

You rest your jaw in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and trying not to throw up. You hum a response, but you don’t know if he hears you. A motorcycle isn’t exactly prime time for in-depth conversation, so instead, he begins to cruise and cautiously rubs your knee to soothe you. “Almost there.” 

You groan, unconsciously pinching his shirt rather than holding around his waist. He corrects your form, taking the hand that was on your knee and flattening it against your hand on his stomach. 

“Hold,” Caleb concisely assulerts, guiding your hand to the edge of his waist, “nearly there.” 

The movement borders on hand-holding, but he doesn’t interlock your fingers together. Your face begins to feel hot—or maybe it’s the humid weather—and you pull back slightly from Caleb, silently hoping your heart isn’t beating hard enough to be felt against his back.

The excruciating ride comes to an end with Caleb parking the motorcycle near the entrance of the pier. He dusts himself off, then adjusts his shirt sleeves and takes your helmet off, ruffling your hair up. You mumble a grievance, but he brings his finger up to his lip to hush you and he pokes your cheek. 

He points to the time on his phone as you two walk the remaining distance to the restaurant. “Look at that. We’re early.” He chuckles at your annoyed expression and promises a car ride next time. 

“No—it’s fine,” you quickly respond, “we can still take the bike.”

Caleb gives you an inquisitive look. “Oh?” He pushes open the door to the restaurant with his shoulder, still looking at you. “Coming around to it?” You give him a look, and he puts his hands up in faux surrender. 

The restaurant’s hostess waits at the turn on a podium and cheerfully greets you two. “Hi! We’re a bit full. Do you have a reservation?” 

Caleb puts his hands in his pockets and lets you do the talking. You give the waitress a warm smile, telling her your name and your reservation time. 

The hostess beams with another round of performative, customer service joy. “Right! And this,” she gestures to Caleb,” is the boyfriend you mentioned?” You expect Caleb to deny the assumption, but he just glances at you.

“No, he, um, cancelled. This is just my friend.” You look away from Caleb, but out of the corner of your eye, you can see his breath begin to shallow. The hostess doesn’t notice the shift in his demeanor and offers you two a high-pitched, realizing “oh!” and ushers you to your designated table. 

When Caleb slides into the seat across from you, he improperly puts his elbows on the table, flipping through the menu and looking up at you through his lashes every now and then. The waiter comes around to take your drink orders, and you awkwardly order a water. Caleb follows suit in the ordering with some tastier sounding drink, and the air is even stuffier than the preceding hour. 

Why is the air stuffy?

“Water?” Caleb leans back a bit in his chair, letting out a laugh. “Are you onna diet, pip-squeak?” 

You silently thank and bless him for breaking the tension, because you certainly wouldn’t. You shrug and sigh heavily, although it comes out a bit shakier than you’d like. “My stomach’s a bit flippy,” you lie, toying with the edge of the table, “I probably shouldn’t have invited you—I know you’re busy.”

Caleb leans forward and tugs at his sleeves. “I’m free now, aren’t I?”

The waiter, a tall, skinny redhead, returns with your two drinks. “Are you ready to order?” He prompts. 

You look towards Caleb, who is already pointing out obscured menu items to the waiter and mumbling something you can’t hear from the other side of the table. The waiter scribbles them down, looks at you expectantly, and leaves when you tell him you’re having what Caleb is having. 

You scratch your forehead, checking your phone every couple minutes to see if Nate had texted. Of course, you opened your phone each time to an empty lockscreen apart from your phone’s Settings begging you to free up space.

You decide to make conversation. “How’s flying?”

Caleb looks up from his phone, shaking his head from side to side, as if to say so-so. “Pretty boring. What do you think about me being in the air force instead?” He fiddles with the napkin. “Feelin’ like commercial really isn’t my thing.”

Images of Caleb in a well-fitted air force uniform flicker like a dull light in your head, and you close your eyes and laugh it off. He thinks you’re laughing at him, though, so he grumbles playfully and mumbles something about him being destined to do aerial tricks in the sky. 

“I think you’d do great, Caleb.”

He chuckles. “Knew you’d say that, pip-squeak.”

The frail waiter comes back, balancing your two plates on one even thinner black platter. He lets out a sigh of relief when the plates find their way to their owners and tells you both to enjoy.

The dish in front of you is nothing like Caleb’s—but it’s everything like yours. You make a hmm? sound, and Caleb parts from slicing away at his way-too-well-done steak to point at your plate of pasta. “Also knew you’d say, ‘whatever he’s having,’ so I took care of that. Is that alright?” He scans your face for discontent, but you give him a smile and a heavy sigh, finally putting your phone away.

“Yeah, it is. Thanks, Caleb. How’d you know what I’d like, though?”

He simply laughs and nods, stuffing steak into his cheek as if winter is going to come and take it from him, leaving the answer ambiguous.

—

Your time at the restaurant with Caleb dragged into the late hours, and the chill of the night hits your face as you ding your way back out of the restaurant. Your phone buzzes again, for what seems like the twentieth time tonight, and again, you ignore it, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to produce some illusion of heat. 

Caleb shrugs his jacket off of his shoulders, draping them over yours. You open your mouth to protest, but he promptly interrupts you. “Uber or the motorcycle?”

Your face contorts in confusion. “How’re you going to get your motorcycle back then?” 

He glances at you and gestures for you to follow him to another side of the curb. “Uber back later.” He says it matter-of-factly, as if it was a given. 

You breathe out an oh, the puff of air visible in the cold. “Motorcycle is fine.”

“You sure, pip? You just ate and you hate it as is.” Caleb’s face turns to one of concern. 

“I’ll be okay.” You shrug, walking over to where his motorcycle is parked. 

He pushes his lip up in an okay then motion, helmets the two of you, and brings your jacketed arms around his waist when he straddles the front. Your phone buzzes against your leg again, and you ignore it. “Don’t throw up on me, pip-squeak.”

You give him an incoherent sound, and he revs up the motorcycle, yelling something you don’t care for over the engine. You clench your ab muscles in pure anti-projectile-vomiting will as he swerves through the streets, navigating to your house, and your nails dig into Caleb’s side, even as he slows down near your house.

Under the helmet, Caleb’s eyes narrow at the car next to yours in your driveway. “Bought a second car, pip?”

No.

You didn’t. 

You recognize that car. Your heart drops and you, at last, check your phone. Thirteen missed calls and a flurry of text messages, all from Nate.

where are you? Need to talk

i’m coming to your house

open the door. I’ll sit in your driveway all night.

You tap Caleb’s side wordlessly, and he looks back at you in concern, his lips parted. 

“Go,” you mutter, “let’s go to your house instead. My, um, power’s out. Forgot.”

Caleb eyes the light that shines from the left side of your house, but he hums and revs the engine back to life again, swerving down an unfamiliar set of roads until you two reach his apartment complex. You tug your helmet off, refusing to meet Caleb’s eyes as you approach the door of the complex.

“Everything alright?”

You drone an mhm, scratching your nape.

As you ascend the stairs and open the door to Caleb’s apartment, you notice how blandly decorated the place is, and can’t help but to tease him for it. “Do you even live here?”

He chuckles, opening the fridge and pouring some cold water for you. “I’m usually in a plane.”

You purse your lips and draw images out of the condensation on the side of the cup. That makes sense. 

“You staying over for tonight?”

The question catches you mid-sip, and you shrug. “I mean, if you’ll let me.”

Something in Caleb’s eye glints. “No, yeah, ‘course, pip-squeak.”

You shrug his jacket off of your body, draping it over the couch as you flop down on it. 

“Is the power really out at your place, or did’ya just want to spend more time with Caleb?” Caleb leans on the back of the couch, looking down at you. You cover your eyes with your forearm, letting out an exasperated sigh but offering him at least a snort, as one would do to a terrible dad joke.

The couch sinks as your feet lift up, and when you prop yourself up on your forearms, Caleb’s lap is their new location as he clicks through irrelevant Netflix shows. He looks at you and points to the screen with the remote, asking what you’d like to watch.

You shake your head no and relax back down on the couch as he rubs your ankles. “I’m tired. Do you have another bed?”

He clicks his tongue. “You can just take my bed. My couch is big enough for me to sleep on.”

You give him a look, but he just puts a finger up to his lips and rises from the couch, offering a hand to get you up. “I’ve just gotta make the bed, though. Just took the bedding outta the washer this morning. Wanna help?”

You stretch after you get up, nodding a yes in between a yawn. 

The two of you enter his room, and it is just as grimly decorated as the rest of his house is. A boring desk fills up the right space of his bedroom and an even more monotonous snake plant acts as a sore excuse for decoration in the other corner. 

“Do you even know how to decorate?”

“Nope.”

The two of you work to put the silk cases back on the pillows and relocate the other bedding items so that they don’t get in your way. 

When you lift his mattress to put the first sheet on, something—no, many things, fall out from under the mattress—like polaroids, or other glossy pictures. You think of calling out to Caleb, but your mouth clamps shut when you catch a glimpse of what looks like your face in one. In another, a fog-blurred photo of you drying your hair after a bath, taken from a high angle. Caleb’s eyes follow yours, and he drops the mattress calmly, meeting your newly fully-awake eyes. 

“Caleb—is that—”

He hushes you, walking over to your side of the bed with a slow stride. You back up, wordlessly pointing to where the pictures still lie. 

“That’s not you.”

You begin to blubber incredulously, your head starting to feel heavy. He takes your hands in his gently, as if asking for forgiveness.

“That’s not you,” he repeats, “they’re just… it’s just a project I’m doing.”

Your eyes flutter with a fatigue heavier than before. You try to say something, to call him out on such a blatant lie, but all that is left of your voice is a mere squawk. 

Caleb holds you in his arms as your body begins to feel limp, muttering the same lines over and over again. In a dream-like state, you hear him say, “Promise I’ll take care of all of this. Just been waiting… It’ll be so good. For both of us.”

—

Caleb drives a sleek, black car to your address, tilting his head in mild pity when he still sees the same car in your driveway. He murmurs irritated curse words under his breath, exiting the car and tugging his cap down as he approaches the car.

He’d rather be sleeping right now, but he loves you too much.

The man in it is sound asleep, so he taps the drivers’ side and shines a rude flashlight into the man’s eyes. The man, Nate, jumps up in shock and immediately begins to back out of the driveway.

Unfortunately, he only hits Caleb’s perfectly parked car. Caleb tuts in disappointment and flexes a gloved hand, using his shirt and fist to bash Nate’s car window in. Nate yells, but the neighborhood is much too dead asleep to care. 

Caleb grabs Nate by the shirt, pulling him up close to his face. “I told you last time, didn’t I?”

Nate stutters something, and Caleb uses the blunt of the flashlight to rear back and knock some verbiage into him. 

Nate curses, holding his face. “I’m so sorry, man, I just—”

“You just what?”

Nate begins his useless rambling again and Caleb sighs, as if this is a waste of his time, slamming Nate’s head into his steering wheel. The honk is loud, but too clipped and still not loud enough to wake anyone up. 

Caleb laughs bitterly. 

“Do you think cheating on someone—” he punches Nate, holding his breath.

“So needy,” he finally opens the car door and drags him out onto your lawn. 

“So kind,” he serves him a foot to the stomach.

“So forgiving,” he kicks Nate around until he’s on his stomach, bloody and beaten.

“So perfect,” Caleb tugs Nate up by his hair, straddling his back and forcing him to look up at him. 

“Is something that a man of God would do?” Caleb eyes the beaded cross hanging from Nate’s mirror, then mockingly looks back at him with a faux-sympathetic look.

Nate begins to blubber a string of apologies. “I’m sorry, man, seriously. I came here just to break up, promise, but you’d do the same, you know, two beautifu—”

The gunshot, this time, still doesn’t wake the neighbors. Caleb tosses it to the side, thanking earlier him for purchasing a silencer. He drops Nate’s limp head onto the grass, dusting himself off as he looks at the pitiful body seeping blood into your freshly-trimmed lawn.

“Like hell I would.”

—

Your head bangs with an anger like never before. You try to bring your hands up to cradle your thumping head, but you’re met with the resistance of zip ties. 

“What?” You mumble.

As you come to, you squint and notice Caleb in the far distance, cooking something. You’re laying on the same bed you were asked to make, and Caleb is flipping pancakes like a sitcom father. Sun attacks your eyes and you screw them shut, feeling your headache worsening. Caleb looks behind him, notices your movements, and immediately turns off the stove, jogging towards you and shutting the curtains. 

“Hey, pip-squeak,” he soothes, “you’re awake.”

You furrow your brows at him, trying to move your ankle, but that too is zip tied, this time to the foot of his bed. “What?” You repeat, struggling to sit up.

He hushes you, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. “I’ll let you go in a minute, okay? Can’t just let a wounded animal free.”

The haze is finally beginning to clear up a bit more, and Caleb is double-checking if the black-out curtains are fully closed. “I saw the photos of me that you have and then you—you drugged me.”

Caleb snaps his head towards you with a look of tenderness, but also of hurt. “No, pip—well, yes—but I was planning on you just being able to hear me. Just not being able to be hurt. What I put in your water won’t harm you. I promise.”

You look around the room, and Caleb occupies the area next to you on the bed. He softly takes your face, tracing his hands down to your own hands. “Do these hurt?”

You reluctantly nod, so he cuts them off with scissors he produced from his back pocket. You flex your wrists, looking at him cautiously. 

“Just calm down, okay?��� Caleb takes your hands in his, facing you with his full body. The zip tie on your ankle digs into your skin, so you wince. Caleb gets up, flips the cover over, and switches the restraint with something much more comfortable. He apologizes the whole way through, then returns to his spot beside you.

“Want you to stay with me forever, pip-squeak,” Caleb mumbles, bringing his hand up to soothe, or at least try to soothe, your frenzied face. He brings his forehead to meet yours. “God… it’s like you were sent for me.”

Your mouth drops. The unnamed drug still clouds your thoughts, so you breathe something along the lines of “I have a boyfriend… you’re crazy.”

Caleb clips and his face darkens. “No. I took care—um, he was cheating on you. He broke up with you last night. Check your messages.”

He gently ushers your cold phone into your hands, and you scroll through the messages of Nate saying that you’re over and that he “never really loved you anyway.”

Tears begin to stream down your face, and you cannot pinpoint their exact, singular cause. Caleb hushes you, taking your sobbing frame into his arms as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 

“I love you,” he hums, “I love you.”

He runs a hand through your hair, rubbing your back and pulling you closer.

“I love you,” he repeats.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered if I Could Come Home? (Astarion x Pregnant F! Reader) MDNI 18+ Part 2

CW: Smut, insecurities, pregnancy sex, PIV

Tag-list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @starstruck-mj-writings @divineknightmare

Part 1 is on my Masterlist :)

This is unedited because I’m tired 😂💜

Photo belongs to @cheekylittlepupp on Tumblr

“These are all truly terrible options, Darling,” Astarion whispers into your ear, “I feel like putting anyone in this should be considered abuse.”

You try and fail to suppress the laughter- covering your mouth with your hand when another woman shoots you a glare. You should regret dragging Astarion in here, but you don’t. He’s right- this place has absolutely nothing adorable and you hate shopping here. You are very happy he shares the same sentiment.

This was an unplanned stop in the grand scheme of the evening. Astarion had insisted on taking you on a date the moment you woke up this morning. When you went to protest and say, “I look like a beached whale, no”- you were thoroughly kicked by Eowyn.

You picked the name Eowyn together a little over a month after Astarion first arrived. It’s almost month 7 now and although Astarion missed out for a few months- your daughter and him are already peas in a pod.

You disagree with Astarion? Kick. If you pick a book that doesn’t interest him? Kick. You get hormonal, angry, and Astarion sounds even slightly sad? You bet you are gonna be running to the bathroom to throw up. She’s a spiteful fucking kid and you cannot catch a break. You are the one carrying her and yet!

You suppose you can’t blame her though. You don’t want to give him any reason to leave anymore than she does. You know Astarion won’t leave again, but that worry is also silently there.

“Darling,” Astarion whispers, “come look at this atrocity.”

Astarion scrunches up his nose and picks up one of the other baby outfits. He looks at you with a “really?” and shows you a piece of fabric fashioned into a onesie with “Selune Loves Me”. You don’t even bother to suppress your snort of laughter.

“I have a horrible feeling that Shadowheart will be buying that for Eowyn,” you sigh.

“Oh no- not if I can help it!” Astarion puts the onesie back (he even folds it), “our kid is going to be a raging atheist and I will have it no other way!”

“And if she decides to be a cleric or a paladin?”

Astarion grumbles a “well that’s different” under his breath. He opens the door for you and bows dramatically as you walk through it. Astarion’s smile is brighter than the sun when you giggle.

“I’m glad you are willing to support all possible life paths, Star,” you tease.

“I will eventually convince her to change her mind,” he muses, “we’ll begin putting swords and instruments in front of her and hope she turns out better than Volo.”

You huff at him and roll your eyes. He intertwined his fingers with yours and you continued the rest of your date.

***************************

You are laying in your bed- remaining absolutely still. Astarion seems like he is still sleeping?

Whatever sick fuck keeps adding spice into your life, has gifted you an incredibley real sex dream with Astarion. Again.

You told yourself you were going to behave- certainly not because you want to. It’s out of respect for Astarion and his boundaries. You don’t know what he’s been up to or if he would even want to while you look like this.

Oh wonderful- tears.

The hardest part of this whole pregnancy nonsense is that you don’t feel good about yourself or how you look. You didn’t necessarily have the best self esteem to start with, but your body changing in front of you almost every day wasn’t helping. You know your hips have gotten slightly wider and your breasts have gotten bigger. You try to be active as much as possible so you feel some control and you eat as healthy as you possibly can without lacking nutrients, but none of it felt like enough. You feel disgusting.

Your silent tears fall down your cheeks as you suppress your pitiful sniffling. If you close your eyes, you’ll eventually fall asleep. That’s what you usually do and that’s what you did when Astarion was gone. Sleep heals everything.

Maybe your body has finally had enough of pushing all of the discomfort back. All those feelings of being unwanted, unloved, and not like yourself are ripping you apart at the seams as they rush to your eyes.

You begin to move away from Astarion- deciding it would be better for you to sit in your little rocking chair and read for a bit. There is no reason to make yourself upset over something you can’t change. Your pregnancy will be over soon enough anyhow.

“Darling?”

Astarion’s voice pierces the silence and his fingers are clinging to your shirt as if to keep you there.

You clear your throat, “yes my Star?”

“Where are you going?”

Astarion sounds incredibly worried. It’s been hard for him to see you when you are sick or when you are obviously picking yourself apart in the mirror. Astarion is constantly worrying about your vertigo and you walking around without him or Shadowheart to catch you.

You told him that his worry isn’t necessary and that you would let him know if you were feeling dizzy or like you were going to pass out. You don’t want to bring harm to yourself or your child.

“I know you know your body, Darling,” Astarion says with his shoulders slumped and a slight frown on his lips, “I have no right to tell you what you can or cannot do, but please, my Love. I just found you again. I can’t even fathom the idea of-“

Astarion had broken down sobbing, then you began to cry, and then Eowyn was kicking so you caved and promised to let him know if you were leaving the room.

You roll over to look at him and his eyebrows raise in alarm. You hastily run the tears away and smile.

“I was just going to sit on the rocking chair.”

Astarion just squints at you and you avoid his gaze- looking up out the window.

“The moon is very pret-“

“Tav, why were you crying?”

Dammit. It’s the “I’m serious” Astarion voice.

“Oh uh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “I just had an interesting dream and it led to interesting thoughts- then TADA pregnancy hormones.”

Astarion flashes you a teasing smile before ghosting his lips over yours.

“Oh I am very aware of these ‘interesting’ dreams of yours, Darling. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me to re-enact a few.”

Your heart stops momentarily and you blink a couple times. There is no way you heard that correctly. You begin to tear up and Astarion’s brows furrow in concern.

“You don’t want that,” you say in a low voice, a stray tear rolls down your cheek, “I look disgusting.”

His lips are on yours in an instance- a whimper leaves your lips as you feel a warm stirring between your legs. It’s almost embarrassing how desperately your body wants him- craves him. Being kissed like this by him again is a blessing.

“I wish you would stop trying to guess what I want when it comes to you,” he sighs against your lips, “and I wish you could see how beautiful you are- all the time.”

“My body has just changed so much- to me anyway,” you whisper, “I worry that I’m not attractive to you anymore.”

Astarion grabs your hand with his and guides you down to the front of his underwear- opening your hand so that you palm against his erection. You blush furiously when he forces your eyes to meet his with his other hand. His pupils are blown wide with lust.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you anymore?”

“No,” you whisper shyly.

“I want you desperately,” he places a chaste kiss on your lips, “As I always have.”

You feel embarrassed by the sigh of relief that leaves your mouth upon his confession. You want to be with him this way so badly it hurts. You hesitantly wrap your leg around his hip and you pull him in for a kiss.

Astarion’s lips are soft against yours. You keep a slow pace- unsure of how far he would be willing to go.

You find out pretty quickly when you feel his hands find your underwear- tearing away the fabric completely. You pout against his lips playfully.

“I liked those.”

“I’ll buy you a thousand more pairs, my Love.”

“But-“

The breath leaves your body when you feel his fingers begin to play with your clit. Astarion roughly presses the pads of his fingers against your clit- the additional friction making you keen in pleasure.

Astarion starts to pull away and your hands find purchase in his hair- pulling him back to you. Your desperation spurs him on and your lips are crashing against each other at a fast pace.

You feel him pull you back by your hair, making you look at him- you open your mouth to protest, but then you feel one of his fingers slide into you. Astarion pushes himself all the way into you with his finger until his palm is teasing your already sensitive clit. He must realize how ready you are for him because he enters a second finger and then a third shortly after.

The feeling of his fingers inside of you are intoxicating and the way he is looking at you is even more so. Your moans are on display for him to see- Astarion’s hand in your hair has yet to loosen as he finger fucks you relentlessly.

“So good, so perfect,” he says, “and I’m the only one who will ever have the pleasure of breeding you.”

Astarion’s words rip something inside of you open- you begin to clench around his fingers hard as your climax sinks into your body. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.

It probably is- if you are being entirely honest to yourself. Astarion looks ethereal under the moonlight that floods the room. His curls are mussed up a bit from sleep, his lips turned upward and slightly parted as he watched you be overtaken with pleasure.

Astarion leaves a chaste kiss on your lips and moves your hair out of your face. He sits up and pulls you onto his lap and traces the veins in your neck down to your collarbones. His hands meet in the middle to unlace your shirt all while making eye contact the entire time.

“Gods,” Astarion whispers as he kisses down your chest, “you are exquisite, my Love.”

You must have forgotten what it was like to be under Astarion’s lustful hands and loving gaze. Your dreams were nowhere like this.

You whine at the skin contact and you feel yourself clench around nothing. The feeling of his cold fingers running along your skin- how they tease and pinch your sensitive nipples. Astarion’s word of praise alone are enough to get you off.

“So needy.”

Astarion takes one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth- sucking and grazing it with his fangs. His other hand begins to trail downward as grinds his erection up into your unclothed, soaking folds.

“Have you missed me, Darling?” Astarion coos, “has no one else been able to make you feel this way since I’ve been gone?”

You know exactly what he is asking.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, “because my hands are nowhere as skilled as yours.”

Astarion’s laughter fills the air and your body with joy. His hand moves to release his erection from his underwear. You gasp at the sight and your hand immediately goes downwards- you feel him growl against your breast when you swipe your finger through some of his precum.

You look down and his eyes are on yours as you put your finger between your lips, licking it clean.

Astarion moves his attention from your breasts- pulling you by your hair down to his mouth so he can taste himself on you. The other hand lines him up with your entrance before pulling you down by your hips at the same time he thrusts upward.

You see stars as Astarion grazes that perfect spot inside of you. His hands had untangled from your hair a while ago, both of his hands guiding your hips down so that you continue to take his full length.

“Astar- I’m going to- fuck,” you cry out as his fingers find your clit again.

“You are going to what, my Dear? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,” he says teasingly, his thrusts getting sloppier as you clench harder and harder.

“I- I,” your eyes roll in the back of your head as you pitch forward, putting your face in the crook of his neck. Your moans reverberate through the room- your voice is almost guttural from the intense amount of pleasure you are experiencing.

Astarion’s orgasm followed yours quickly- his moans coming out ragged and incoherent as he fills you to the brim with his seed.

You kiss his cheek, along his cheek bone, and then back until you are in the crook of his neck again.

“You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes on,” Astarion says fondly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Star,” your blissfully fucked body relaxes against his.

You don’t remember when you began to fall asleep or when Astarion repositioned you so that you were spooning. The only thing you can recall is Astarion kissing your shoulder, neck, and behind your ear while whispering his gratitude and love for you into your skin.

[rae-dabae]

VOID JOURNEY❤︎︎

( long post ahead‼️‼️)

Y’all……. A HOE DID IT!! I ENTERED THE VOID!!!! but i didn’t manifest anything :(((. So basically i don’t really even remember much from last night all i remember is falling asleep and seeing complete blackness. Now i’ve been to the void tons of times without know i’ve been there. @b4ddprincess realization void post OPENED MY FUCKING EYES and got me to realize what the void ACTUALLY was. That darkness you’re surrounded by when you fall asleep and you can’t move or speak or do anything else but literally exist. When i was like 10 i woke up in the void without and it was completely dark but i wasn’t scared n shit it was really REALLY fucking peaceful and i just kinda stayed there. I always thought that darkness was apart of the dream i was supposed to have but once i realized THAT was the void……..🤦🏾‍♀️. Now i went through a wee lil phase of looking for methods n trying them out n them not resonating with me at all. I was stressing myself out BUT I KNEW that the void was easy because I’ve literally been there tons of times. Doubts were eating me alive and really fucking with my confidence and making doubt if I’ve even actually entered the void(we literally enter the void every time we sleep so basically we always are in the void). After like 3-4 weeks of me repeating the same cycle of believing i can enter, not entering and repeating the same old story over n over again. I had enough and started to slowly pull away from obsessing over the void and I focused onward what i wanted. The entire point of me even entering was so that i could manifest ALL my desires at once. I decided to find something that I personally liked and believed i could succeed with. I like sleep methods the best because they’re the most relaxing for me. I like Sats/ Lullaby method but i every time i would try it i would think “ oh it didn’t work because i didn’t affirm long enough lemme try again” so i was secretly fucking myself up because i had made up this assumption if i didn’t affirm long enough I wouldn’t get in. There was one “method” that i likes the best and it was commanding/ ordering your subconscious to take you to the void. I decided to test it out to see if you can really manifest anything just by commanding your subconscious and GIRLLL….. it works. One sunday afternoon i was heavily dreading going to school and just was NOT feeling it, so i decided to test my subconscious and see if it could cancel school for me or just get me not to go without begging my parents or faking sick. I went “ Hey subconscious, im not feeling school tomorrow, cancel it for me” and after that i forgot about it. Later that night my school posts on instagram that someone threatened to BOMB OUR SCHOOL and tons of kids were protesting they cancel (being the piece of shit trashy stank ass school they are they didn’t cancel). All my friends were protesting not going cuz im not tryna get Bombed frl. I called my mom about it and she told me I didn’t have to go to school if i didn’t want to. Then I remembered what i told my subconscious and i went “ DAMNN subconscious i know i said i didn’t wanna go but BOMB THREATS??”( i don’t think I manifested the bomb threats because as much as i dread that place i would never even try doing that) that was the test that proved to me that subconscious really will do anything you tell it….insane. BACK TO LAST NIGHT ( i got distracted Srry) i commanded my subconscious before going to sleep to wake me up in the void but because of my loud ass african mother i couldn’t sleep so i waited until i felt tired and fell asleep. When i woke up i was still in my bedroom and i had thought i didn’t get in but then i tried remember if i dreamed last night and i didn’t remember having one. Actually i remember just being in complete darkness for a while then the rest is blurry. Then it hit me. I ENTEREDD. I know i had entered because it was the same feeling i got when i was 10 and entered. Anyways now i know how to enter and what works for me so STAY TUNED FOR A SUCCESS STORRYYY!!!( ill get into full detail and give some advice)

💕💕Bye my lovess!! 💕💕

[bumblehoneybee]

Hi! Sorry if im bothering but i wanted to ask

Can we get a ddogday x player, this took place a few days before the hour of joy, where reader is a worker who was supposed to help DogDay take care of the kids from playcare

But reader has Cynophobia (extreme fear of dogs) and when they first met DogDay the first thing player does is panic and try to avoid dogday as best as they could, and DogDay being the sweet dog he is, tries his best to comfort and show reader he's not bad

Oof this is way longer then i expected sorry xd

Shaky Hands and Steady Paws

If it weren’t for how stern upper management was, you’d have switched positions ages ago. But they had a very firm air of finality to them when they gave you your assignment, leaving no room for objection or argument. So with a heavy heart and shaky hands, you went to the Playcare, and you met the toy who you would be caring for.

Dogday.

It helped, if minutely, that he was so different from a normal dog. Memories only tingled the back of your brain as you carefully took care of him, stitching up tears and hosing off mud whenever play got too rough. He was kind, he was a good boy, but you couldn’t spend more time with him than the allotted shift, else you’d sink into a hole you’d never climb back out of. You were afraid, you were frustrated, and most of all you were so, so tired of feeling this way.

And Dogday noticed this.

You had gentle hands, he noticed. They shook all the time. At first, he thought you were cold, so he tried to hold your hands, and when you politely declined that, he brought you gloves Crafty helped him make. They were poor quality, and your smile at them was shakier than your hands, but you accepted them all the same. Even wore them sometimes, when “winter” rolled around.

But you never let him get close. You always said what needed to be said and never anything more. He wanted to know you, your favorite color, your favorite treat, if you preferred warm summers or chilly falls. He wanted to share all his stories and fun memories with you, but while you always listened, you never offered any stories of your own.

It was disheartening, to put it lightly. But Dogday wasn’t one to give up on someone.

“Hi.” Dogday greeted when you walked into Home Sweet Home. Most of the kids were at school, leaving Home quiet and peaceful.

“Hi.” You greeted back, carefully moving around Dogday as you began to clean up the room he and the other male critters used. Dogday tripped over himself to help you. “Why don’t you go relax with your friends?”

Dogday winced, wringing a blanket in his hands as he watched you deliberately not look at him and keep your distance. “Um. . . you’re my friend too!” That caused you to perk up. Dogday straightened, tail beginning to wag behind him. Maybe that was the problem? You didn’t think you were friends? “Yeah! We’re friends! And I want to help my friends whenever I can!”

You hummed, but didn’t say anything more. Your hands were shaking, causing the little tower of books in your arms to tremble. You felt Dogday move towards you, watched his shadow fall over you, and the books fell. Your arms gave up, and instead your hands fired to your face.

Today was already not a good day. And now this.

“Oh!” Dogday gasped. He touched your shoulder, afraid you were crying, but you jolted away. You stumbled back, plopping onto the closest bed, and dropped your head back into your hands.

“I-I can’t. . .” You gasped. Dogday carefully lowered onto his knees, trying to catch your gaze, but you were hidden away. “Not today, I can’t. . .”

“Th-that’s okay!” Dogday said. His hands flapped around as he tried to think on how to soothe you. You were so distressed! It wasn’t like you, normally so composed and put together and polite and professional. “I can clean up! You don’t have to; you can just rest on my bed! Yeah?”

He panicked a little when you didn’t respond.

“Are you sick?” He asked, voice hushed in case your head hurt.

You let out a sob.

“Oh no!!”

Dogday didn’t know what to do. As you cried into your hands, he ran around the room, grabbing any and everything he could find. He threw blankets on your, found lost plushes to press into your arms, even nearly mowed the bathroom door down in an attempt to get you water.

It was. . . too much. You hated being this way, feeling this way. It’d be easier if he was mean, if he was like those other dogs you grew up around, who always bit first and asked questions later. Dogday was so sweet, though, and it confused you. Your fear mixed with your desire to be friends, actual friends, and it made everything so frustrating to deal with.

Dogday knelt before you again, a small mug of water in his large hands. He wordlessly offered it to you once you raised your head. His eyes were bright against the darkness of his sockets, flitting about your ruddy, tear-stained face. He was so worried about you, despite how you never let him close, pushed him away at every turn.

You smiled. “Thank you. . . and I’m sorry.”

“Aw, it’s no big deal!” Dogday brushed your apology aside, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassed delight. You smiled at him! Actually, fully smiled!! Wait until the others heard. “If you’re sick, I wanna help!”

You nodded some, unsure if you should even let him know. You took the mug in your hands and sipped it, sighing some. He deserved to know, didn’t he? But would knowing hurt him? You’d done enough of that already.

“I. . .” You paused, at battle with yourself, but Dogday sat at your feet, ever attentive. “I haven’t had a good day today. Dropping the books was the last straw, kinda. I’m sorry.”

Dogday shook his head. “You don’t gotta apologize for that! You can’t help it.” He scooted closer, nearly resting his head in your lap, but the plushes he had put there earlier stopped him. It also helped him remember how you weren’t the fondest of touch. “Oh! Sorry.”

It was your turn to shake your head. “S’fine, Dogday.” Fear bit at your insides, and while you didn’t want to get any closer than you had to, you figured. . . talking would be okay. It would be a start, and as you got better, you’d tell him. When things hurt less. “I’ve always been a crybaby, you know?”

Dogday perked up, ears cocked. “Oh??”

“Yeah. When I was a kid. . .”

Dogday listened to your every word with stars in his eyes. You were opening up to him! Telling him things! He was so happy. Maybe now you two could be friends, like all the other critters with their own caretakers. He couldn’t wait to get there, but he knew this was going to take time too. He’d be patient, for you.

He’d do anything to get you to smile at him like that again.

[olteacup-writes]

i think i'll regret this.

PERCY TOZAKI / GENDER NEUTRAL MC

my attempt at making angst execpt im sick and gave up midway, plus im super tired ::3 note; this is my take on how the break up will go (not confirmed that percy will be the LI that breaks up)

-

Percy loved you. How couldn’t he? As much as he wouldn’t admit it, you changed his life. You were perfect, his other half. The thing was that you were too perfect, so perfect he didn’t even deserve to be next to you. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, you were meant to just be someone he dated. Falling in love with you was never the plan. When the two of you officially started going out he felt like the heavens had sent an angel to love him. You were his dream come true, someone who genuinely loved him for himself. He could’ve been the same dork he was when he was younger and you could’ve loved him. Before Percy could realize he had fallen madly in love with you. The more he started to realize this the more he felt unworthy of you. He had to do something.

The bright light from his phone stared back at him showing an ungodly hour. As much as Percy twisted and turned in his bed he couldn’t stay put. The more he was kept up by his thoughts the more he started to think, thinking alone in a dark room. His thoughts were killing him. He sat up on his bed looking into the darkness of his room. He had to distract himself somehow, grabbing his phone. The lock screen made his heart ache. As cheesy as it was, the picture he saved on his phone was a picture of you. The sight of you made his heart race just as much as it made his heart sink.

As he unlocked his phone and opened his messages he saw a message from you. He hesitated. He stared at the message you sent, shakingly clicking it. A goodnight message, wishing him sweet dreams. You ended the message with a heart and saying that you loved him. It was sent a few hours ago. Look at you, caring for him. He couldn’t do it anymore. He loved you, he truly did. You were the part of his heart that made him feel happy. He loved you so much he knew you deserved better. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t know what he was going to do with his life. You did, you were studying to become a lawyer for the sake of helping, he was studying to be a doctor because he was good at it. He was dragging you down. If he stayed with you he would just continue to keep dragging you down. 

You were made for great things, but Percy Tozaki? What was he made for? A pretty face with a brain that was put to waste. Standing up he put on his shoes, not bothering to change from his nightwear. He needed to clear his mind. He had to before he went insane. Quietly he made his way out of his room, grabbing his house keys and his wallet as he entered the living room. He checked his phone before leaving the shared dorm.

The night was dark. There was a slight chill in the air but he didn’t mind it. He barely registered that he was cold. His mind was so caught up with different things he had no time to focus on what he was feeling. He exited the building and started wandering around the campus. Percy knew better than to be out this late. His legs didn’t stop though, nor did his thoughts. He stopped suddenly. His whole body had taken him to the place that changed everything. The place that in the light is seen crowded with people, but on nights like these it was empty, not a person to be seen. It was only Percy and his thoughts alone, back at the place he first met you, a pure coincidence that turned into something greater.

Sliding his phone out of his pocket he clicked on his messages. He stared blankly at his phone. Was he really going to do this? Yes, yes he was. You didn’t deserve to put up with him. You weren’t supposed to be someone special. He wasn’t supposed to be this in love with you. He would just ruin your life if you stayed with him. Still he hesitated. How could he tell you everything he was thinking without sounding like a complete idiot? How does one send a text that would ruin everything he had wanted in life? He stared at the screen for a few more moments, recalling every moment he spent with you. He could feel his heart start to race as he grew closer to making his final decision. Without even realizing it his eyes began to slightly water. His movements were wary and slow as he started typing out his words. He decided to leave it short and simple. A quick message that hopefully wouldn’t do much damage. 

“i think we should break up. you didn’t do anything wrong, i just don’t think we should stay together anymore. it’s the best for the both of us.”

He wanted to put more, to say everything he had been feeling, but if he did you’d make him feel better again. Just like you always did, fixing any problem he had without even realizing how much of a burden he was, like loving him was the easiest thing. He stared at the screen harder, almost as if he was waiting for something to tell him not to do it, but even if the biggest sign was showing him not to. He couldn’t turn back now, his tears started to overflow. From gathering in his eyes to rolling down on his cheek at an alarming rate. Was he making the right decision? Would you even care if the two of you broke up? Would you want this?

He didn’t allow himself to even finish the thought, because he knew what the answer would be, no. He knows this because he knows you, because he loves you, which is why he needs to do this. To set you free, so with a quick gesture and a pang of regret without looking back he sent his text message. Once he did he made sure to power off his phone and put it away. The damage was done. Now he stood in the middle of the night standing where the two of you first interacted, regret started to sink in. There was no returning though, he just wanted what was best for you. The cold snapped him out of his thoughts. It was late he should return before anyone woke up.

It felt like a long walk. He'd drag his feet with every movement he made. It felt like he was carrying a burden of weight on his shoulders, a weight that seemed so familiar he almost welcomed it home. Once he finally made it back to his room everything seemed off, but he was so tired he hardly cared. He put his phone to charge and remembered what he had just done not even thirty minutes ago, leaving one of the best things that had happened to him in a long while. His body was shutting down though, he’d have to deal with the consequences once the morning sun came. But just before his eyes closed and he would drift into a slumber, he regretted what he’d done.

-

wow that sucked, please dont beat me up into a pulp ::( srsly tho im so sick and i could barley write a full sentence, but im done yayay (its 3 am and im so tired)

[catscidr]

Could you make a scenario with sick reader and Yandere doctor please 😭

need him to walk into my room in a nurse outfit and take care of me when i get sick... but Alas he's not real... woe is me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)..... WHATEVER i can always write about him anyways so im WINNING EITHER WAY...... (inhales copium) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore, he's a little overbearing, reader has a cold. that's pretty much it (lmk if i missed anything!) includes: gn reader, dottore, iota (youngest segment) wc: 1,3k

Ooohhhh he would be mad. Not in an explosive way, but in a “I’m not mad, just disappointed” way except he IS mad, he’s just really good at keeping his emotions under wraps. You know this, too. He made sure that you did. 

It didn’t matter what kind of illness you came down with; a common cold, the flu, something worse? He’s freakishly good at reading you, and he didn’t need to hear you blowing your nose or sniffling every other second to know you had gotten sick. The skin around your nose blossoming into a darker, reddish tone and your eyelids drooping just a bit lower than usual was enough for him to know you weren’t telling him something you should have. 

It also didn’t matter if you didn’t even see him- he had eyes everywhere, quite literally. It was rare for you to be anywhere in the palace or the lab without one of his clones attached to your hip, whether it be a younger clone tagging along to do something more interesting than breaking open a ruin guard, or an older clone staying by your side, taking a break from work to enjoy your company. 

So, of course, even if the doctor happened to be especially busy when you suddenly caught a cold, you’d still be stuck with him being the equivalent to a mother hen because of how seriously he took your health. 

Usually you didn’t mind his attention, you’d even bask in it, but this time you couldn’t stand it. Your state had been manageable for the past two days and, thankfully, Prime and his clones were none the wiser to your nose overproducing snot nor the way your eyes had more crust around them when you woke up in the morning. But you feared that today would be the day he’d catch you and promote you to being his bedwarmer- literally. Last time you got sick and went to him for help you felt like you were in urgent care, forced to stay in his bed, having at least two of his segments stay with you 24/7, making you eat four meals a day despite your lack of appetite and desperate need for sleep. 

You could insist all you want that you were fine, that you just needed to vegetate in bed for a day or two and you’d be back on your feet in no time, but no, he refused to have any of it. He’d ask who’s the doctor here? in the same condescending voice he used whenever one of his lackeys displeased him (and you’d reply with you didn’t even graduate if you weren’t so tired), and then would throw you over his shoulder to bring you to his spotless bedroom so you could rest while he keeps an eye on you.

The one thing you were happy about was how Dottore wasn’t prone to blatant violence. Nothing physical, at least. When needed, he would slip medication into your water to help you sleep, would graciously lift your sleeve to give you a shot while you were knocked out cold and give you special medicine to make sure you had all the vitamins you needed. He wouldn’t do any of that if you had cooperated with him in the first place, though; so, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. At least not for long. 

Like clockwork, you were currently going through that same order of events. 

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to indulge Iota and go out in the snow to make a snowman with him- but how could you resist him! The lab could feel so stuffy as it was, and the additional smell of blood covered up by strong cleaning agents only did so little to help you resist his pleas. So, you grabbed Dottore’s Harbinger coat and got yourself dragged outside by the small but mighty youngest segment as he eagerly talked your ear off about having a snowball fight, making a myriad of snow angels and other winter activities you weren’t familiar with. 

After getting absolutely pelted with snow (Iota was good at snowball fights, surprisingly) you hung up Dottore’s coat to dry and made your way to the bathroom to wipe off any snow and water that had gotten on your skin despite the large, fluffy cloak you wore. Iota waved you off with a boyish grin and a taunting better luck next time! as you watched him saunter off into the direction of his creator’s lab. Your fingertips felt cold but as you dried your skin thoroughly you felt your body gradually warm up, and that was enough for your standards. 

Placing the towel on a rack to dry, you then headed over to your room to relax your aching muscles after the remarkably intense snowball fight. You laid down underneath the covers, grateful to be able to take a nap. However, when you awoke about two hours later, you thought you felt your arms weighed even more than before, and your head throbbed an ache that wasn’t there previously. And surely, a day later, you find yourself sneakily throwing away your used tissues somewhere that Dottore won't find them, else he subjects you to his overbearing methods of... curing you. 

You did your best to make your footsteps as careful and light as possible, lowering the chances of one of them finding you with a trash bag full of snot-filled tissues. Unfortunately for you though, maybe you should have worn something other than pyjamas because, as luck had it, although a segment hasn’t seen your physical state, a patrolling agent did. 

He spoke into a walkie-talkie quietly enough that your ears didn’t pick up the sound of his voice and, as you're about to step outside to throw the trash bag out, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A cold, gloved hand that you could recognize anywhere with your eyes closed. You halt your movements as the (not so) mysterious figure behind you stays silent, waiting for you to say something first. 

Your shoulders slump forward in defeat, and you sniffle. “I don’t wanna be locked up in your room again,” you say quietly, voice slightly slurred from your cold. He scoffs, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently enough for it to be comforting. “Maybe if you didn’t try to go outside while having a cold I would reevaluate your options,” he sighs. “Alas, you leave me no choice. What were you thinking?” Dottore turns you around and frowns, tilting his head to the side. If you were anyone else you would have been dead where you stood, but here you are; wearing one of his old shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, one of your hands gripping a trash bag, and the other wiping your nose. You stand awkwardly, looking away sheepishly, not particularly enjoying being caught red-handed like this. 

“It would be unhygienic to keep all of those used tissues in my room,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug. He holds back the urge to sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, mask lifting just a tad from the action, and exhales slowly. You would be the death of him eventually, he thought tiredly. 

Dottore bends down low enough to grab the bag from your hands and looks over his shoulder, tossing it to a poor unsuspecting fatui soldier. The soldier in question stumbles back slightly, just barely keeping themselves from tripping over, as Dottore signals for them to throw it away themselves. You don’t have the time to speak up before the person scurries away. 

“Next time don’t be so obvious,” he says quietly enough that only you can hear him. He bends his torso forward slightly, holding his face leveled with yours. “And next time you decide to get sick,” he begins with a raspy tone, holding your chin up with his palm, “come to me immediately. Lest you want me to wrestle you into my room again.” 

You’d be blushing if you didn’t know what was going to happen. Dottore straightens his back and outstretches his hand to you, looking at you from below his mask. Defeated, you interlace your fingers with his and jut your lip out as you hold back the urge to whine. A small smile graces his face as he guides you back to the lab. 

[kooktrash]

Omg can u write a drabble about seven days to love Jungoo being sick and whiney (and attention seeker) and oc taking care of him ofc hehe 🥺🥺🤍

okokok im bringing him back since he’s such a baby. you don’t have to read SEVEN DAYS TO LOVE to understand this drabble <3

JUNGKOOK’S SICK DAY | jeon jungkook

warnings: none. straight fluff. sick jk. needy jk. 1.9k words.

Your relationship with Jungkook started off rocky and you take full blame for that. You had been too stubborn to admit that he wasn’t as bad as you made him out to be and over time you let him creep his way into your heart till he was pretty much the owner of it. Of course this dwill don’t mean you made it easy for good m but it was only because you knew he secretly liked your mean streak. Your boyfriend was sweet and so unbelievably funny practically all the time that it didn’t take you long to realize when something was wrong—take the other night for instance when you unintentionally made him jealous and snapped at him for it.

This morning was another one of those times when you noticed he was acting differently than usual. It was the most minuscule of things that caught your attention today but it was just strange. Typically, on mornings you didn’t spend with Jungkook at your side, he sent you a good morning text. Last night you worked late and had an early morning class today that it had just been easier to go back to your own place and not visit Jungkook since it was a farther drive from campus. You expected to wake up to one of his long and dramatic good morning texts that usually went along the lines of:

‘kook🖤: good morningggggggggg my angry little cinammon roll, idc if you hate the nickname, I love it bc I know it annoys u hehe. miss u’

It was very annoying but unbelievably endearing and you always responded with a:

‘you: pls stop calling me that, it’s so corny.

you: but morning, miss you too <3’

Today though, you woke up with nothing and when you checked his location out of curiosity if he was busy, you found him at home and ended up calling him.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy and tired which was unusual for him at this hour, it was the first sign that something was up.

“Good morning, I didn’t get my text today,” you said sitting at your vanity as you readied yourself for work. It was a little past noon and you had already gone to class and he had yet to reach out to you. That was strange considering how clingy your boyfriend usually was.

Jungkook lay in his bed, wrapped like a burrito in his blankets and phone on speaker lying on the pillow you usually used, “Sorry baby, I’m just waki—achoo!”

You paused, taken back by his overly loud sneeze and sniffle, “You okay?”

You’re not sure why you expected the big baby that Jungkook was to say yes when it was just so out of character. You should’ve known he would have responded with a whine, “No! I don’t feel good, a-and I want you to come over and make me feel better.”

“I’ve gotta get to work,” you said with a pout, “Joon would kill us both if we don’t show up. Did you call in yet?”

“I’m about to,” Jungkook said with another loud sniffle and cough that made you wince, “Please, Y/n, come over.”

“Jungkook, I can’t,” you said apologetically, “Taehyung is the only one working tonight and you’re already not going in so I can’t miss too. It wouldn’t be fair—“

“Y/n, come over!” You could practically see him kicking his feet in a childlike tantrum.

“Babe,” you released a sigh, “I’ll feel bad if I miss. I’ll come over right after, take something and sleep, okay?”

“I want you.”

“Do I look like cold medicine?” You asked, hearing him mumble a yes that made you smile in amusement, “I’ll see if we can finish early, I promise.”

Jungkook left you with a muffled goodbye and you felt bad just leaving him hanging but Namjoon was your boss and friend. He doesn’t like dating in the workplace but he’s fine with the two of you and you don’t want to take advantage of him or make him think you won’t put work first. He probably won’t like that you’ll miss work simply because of your boyfriend, so you got to work feeling awful for leaving Jungkook to fend for himself.

“So, no Jungkook today?” Taehyung asked from the stop of the stairs where his sound booth was. You shook your head no, “Don’t think he feels good.”

“Poor baby,” Taehyung pretended to wipe a tear away, “Well, thanks for coming in, I have a feeling he didn’t make it easy for you?”

“Not at all.”

kook🖤: 🤒😞

you: have you taken anything yet?

kook🖤: 😞

you: boy…

kook🖤: 🤧😞

“Y/n, tell your boyfriend to stop texting me,” Taehyung said suddenly, “He keeps crying that he wants you to go see him.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed in disbelief, “I didn’t know he was such a big baby when he’s sick.”

“The biggest,” Taehyung said with a shake of his head, “If you could stick around for at least another hour or two, I’ll let you go, but let’s just see how busy we get.”

The answer was, you didn’t get busy at all. Although you wanted to go over to Jungkook’s place right away, knowing him, he wasn’t prepared for a mile cold and you ended up going to the store to find some over-the-counter medicine and some easy foods he could eat. When you finally got to his place it was just before the sun could set and you let yourself in with the key he had given you a while back.

“Who’s there?” Jungkook shouted tiredly from his bedroom, “If it’s not Y/n it better be the Grim Reaper because I’m depressed.”

You rolled your eyes setting your bags down, “It’s Y/n!”

You heard intense rustling and banging from his bedroom until suddenly you were being confronted by Kaonashi from Studio Ghibli’s Spirited Away—you mean your boyfriend, who was completely wrapped up in his black comforter with huge bags under his eyes, “Jeez babe, you’ve definitely seen better days, huh?”

Jungkook made a whining sound as he opens up his arms and the blanket before dragging you into him, wrapping you in with him and squeezing tightly, “S-so cold.”

“Did you take anything yet?” You asked, feeling your feet lift off the ground just a bit with how he held you in a hug. You felt him shake his head no and with an annoyed sigh you asked, “Jungkook! I’ve been telling you all day to take something. How are you supposed to get better?!”

“Stop yelling at me,” Jungkook sniffled as you struggled to free yourself from his hold, “I’m sick.”

You released a sigh as you lifted a hand to feel his face and neck and sure enough he felt warm, “Have you eaten?”

He shook his head no with a pout, and you took a breath, “Okay, why don’t you get in the shower and I’ll make you something real quick.”

“Come,” he begged, grabbing your arm but you shook your head.

“No, I’m going to making you something to eat, hon, go shower it’ll help with your fever,” you told him and with an annoyed whine he left.

“So dramatic,” you whispered to yourself watching him shimmy his way back to his room still wrapped in his blanket and you smiled at how cute he was.

You didn’t start cooking until you heard the shower running and you hurried to make him a simple soup that he better like because you're not a cook at all. He’s making you have to learn because he’s such a big baby who forgot to feed himself.

Not even five minutes later was he back out, shuffling his way back to you and hugging you from behind. “That was not a shower, Kook. It wasn’t even five minutes.”

“It was a rinse,” Jungkook confessed, following you around the small space of his kitchen. You just sighed, “Okay, get in bed, it’s almost ready.”

He whined making you look at him with a scoff, “I didn’t know you were so bratty when you’re sick, you big himbo! I already left work early, I’m not leaving, I’m gonna take care of you so just go to bed and I’ll be there soon.”

Jungkook grumbled under his breath as he retreated, “Always so mean to me.”

When you got back to Jungkook’s room holding a tray with his food you found him face down on his bed, spread like a star fish pretending to cry, “Y/n doesn’t love me.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed as you entered his dark abyss, “You’re lucky you’re cute because I’ve never met someone this dramatic in my life.”

Jungkook smiled, rolling onto his back, eyes red and puffy, nose red and puffy, lips red and puffy, “You’re back. Come in bed and let’s watch a movie.”

“First, take your medicine,” you ordered as he took his remote control off the nightstand and began searching through Disney movies.

“Princess and the Frog or Tangled?”

“Jungkook,” you warned him as he talked to himself.

“Princess and the Frog, I completely agree,” he mumbled to himself, “You’re like Tiana, personality wise and I’m like Naveen.”

“You’re more like Louis,” you told him as you handed him the medicine and a glass of water.

“Did you just call me an alligator?” He asked with furrowed brows as he attempted to glare at you but he couldn’t.

“Big scary baby just like you.”

“So mean to me,” he mumbled as he looked down at the bowl of soup before letting his jaw drop.

Your brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?”

“Aren’t you going to feed me?” Jungkook asked cutely. As much as you wanted to smack him, he was sick and you owe it to him to be here. You want him to see you care about him just as much as he cares about you and if that means spoon feeding him to make him happy, you’ll do it.

“I didn’t know having a fever meant you can’t use your hands,” you teased as you blew softly on the hot soup before bringing it toward his mouth, “And you better eat all this because I hate cooking.”

“Yes ma’am,” he joked as he took the spoon finally and began shoving it all into his mouth, “So good, I should snap a picture and post this on Twitter—I mean, ‘X’, and tag Gordon Ramsey.”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

Once he was done, he threw himself back with a burp, “Wow I feel so much better.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I do,” Jungkook nodded his head, “Guess I was away from you too long and my body couldn’t take it.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “So dramatic.”

He laughed, “Kiss?”

“No, you're still sick, I could hear it in your voice,” you told him and he pretended to glare at you. “Y/n. Kiss. Now.”

“No—Jungkook!”

He tackled you onto the bed, putting his entire weight on you and trapping you beneath him, “Kiss.”

With a tired groan you nodded, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down until your lips met. Jungkook smiled into the kiss, making himself more comfortable between your legs, not wanting to pull away even when you gently pushed at his chest. “Okay, Kook, there, you already can’t breathe well with your runny nose, let’s not push it.”

“Mm,” he groaned, “Baby, I’m sick, you can’t keep pushing me away.”

“How can I push you away when you’ve got me trapped under you?” You asked, tilting your head cutely that he smiled, squirming a bit over you.

“Right, I forgot.”

You spent two days dealing with your sick boyfriend who was the neediest baby you’ve ever met in your entire life, but you’d do it all over again.

::.

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog g @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802 @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

[boydepartment]

“i’m in love with you” - with enhypen

a/n: last post for tonight i am sorry i’m trying to get back in a groove i promise

warnings- angst, fluff, it’s a good mix 😋 reader is intoxicated in jakes

wc- i’d say 100 words per member

MASTERLIST

jungwon- stupid for you by waterparks

you knew jungwon was a smart man. he always had a plan and he was always observant. until it came to you. oh my god he was so so so stupid. for years you were pining after him and always hyping him up. he always thought that’s just what friends do. so one day when you were hanging out at the dorms he turned to you.

“i don’t think you’ve ever had a crush on someone? that i’ve known about?” jungwon was curious. because he did like you, hell he LOVED you. he was just too stupid to realize you actually liked him back.

“because i haven’t.” you shrugged simply, you saw his face fall so you continued speaking, “…but i have been in love with you for years now.”

heeseung- my love mine all mine by mitski

heeseung and you have been dating for a couple months now, your relationship healthy. something you never thought you’d get in your life. for the most part you thought you’d die alone or unexpectedly. your luck was always against you, except when it came to heeseung… you both were in the kitchen slowly swaying back and forth. he told you about his busy day and you just watched him talk. his little mannerisms making your heart feel so warm.

“what’s going on in your pretty head right now, princess?” his smile got you

“i’m in love with you.”

jay- sea of love by cat power

jay had been in love with you since he became sentient. he spilled something on you in daycare and that was it. you smacked him upside the head and BOOM sentient. you were his first real memory. he’d never want that taken away from him.

but people grow, and move apart from eachother. and that’s what happened, while you continued studying, he became an idol. of course you still saw him for family things, but he’d always had a camera or body guard with him. it wasn’t the same anymore. so you distanced more. this wasn’t the lifestyle you liked or wanted.

during a holiday meal, jay finally got a minute alone and he pulled you into another room.

“what’s going on with you? i haven’t seen you in forever and now it’s like you don’t want to be around me…” jay mumbled

you looked at him now feeling extremely guilty, “i-i don’t know… it’s just a lot, your lifestyle isn’t for me and-“

it was now or never for jay.

“i’m in love with you. me being an idol isn’t forever. i want forever with you…”

jake- your graduation by modern baseball

you and jake had history. too much of it. it was constant of you calling him to pick you up from a party or something that you weren’t proud of. he was sick of it. jake was tired of watching you practically waste away. it pissed him off. and it honestly pissed you off, why did he care so much when he was the one who would never take your confessions of love seriously?

which led to the argument in the driveway, you drunk off alcohol and him drunk off anger.

“why do you even do this?! you didn’t used to be like this in highschool!” he yelled waving his hands around.

you poked him in the chest, “i don’t owe you any explanation for my feelings!”

“what do you have to be feeling about y/n?! to the point of making fucked up decisions!?”

his voice was loud.

you had enough, “IM IN LOVE WITH YOU AND NO MATTER WHAT I DO YOU NEVER NOTICE IT!”

sunghoon- kiss me by sixpence none the richer

sunghoon was infatuated with you. every spring you worked the saturday market. and every spring he would be your number one customer. always tipping you and always buying your produce. whether it be the apples, flowers, grapes, strawberries, anything. his favorite was when you made bracelets one year though. this went on for a really long time. sunghoon wanted to play the long game with you, you didn’t know he was an idol clearly. and he didn’t want to scare you.

“there’s my favorite customer! sunghoon how are you?” you’d smile at him. all sunghoon wanted was to kiss you, you and your bright smiling face.

“i’m really good today!”

he’d visit more than usual and the flirty banter would come back almost immediately.

“with how much of my stuff you buy i’d assume you’re like in love with me.” you laughed slightly

“i am. i am in love with you.”

sunoo- puppy princess by hot freaks

you had a boyfriend and sunoo was STUCK. he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you were dating someone. you were his best friend, what was the issue?

oh yeah the fact he’s in love with you? yeah…. that’s a pretty big issue.

no matter what though, he kept you smiling and he kept dreaming. at some point sunoo couldn’t hold it in anymore. especially after your boyfriend dumped you out of the blue.

“he doesn’t know what he’s doing y/n. you’re too good for him.”

you looked at him with tears in your eyes, for a few minutes now he’s been joking with you trying to keep you laughing.

“i don’t know…. sunoo you’re gonna be biased because we’re friends.”

sunoo gave you a look, “i’m going to be biased because i’m in love with you.”

riki- apple cider by beabadoobee

you were never supposed to like him at all, you didn’t WANT to. neither did he if he was being honest. it was a weird dynamic between you and him. riki was conflicted and so were you, which led to both of you growing distant thinking the other was tired with the other.

one night when he had free time, he finally made his way to your home. riki obviously stuck out, it was dangerous and stupid but he was running on adrenaline. he knocked on the door hands shaking, when your parent called you from your room you were shocked to see riki standing there. he was obviously not supposed to be here.

“what’re you doing here?” you walked out and wrapped yourself up more when you shut the door behind you, now standing with him outside. it was cold and late, well later at night. you thought something was wrong especially when he refused to speak. you went closer to him and put a hand on his head to check his temperature.

“are you sick? did something happen? do you need to come in-“

“i’m in love with you.” he blurted out

[popcornforone]

I’ll Make An Exception

A Frankie (Catfish) Morales Fic

Day 20 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

Ooooh so you all liked soft Frankie reading Fink did you (im publishing this now I’m home from my second viewing of The Wild Robot in 48hs) well today you get a bit more of the menace that we all fantasise about. God he’s talented.

Synopsis:- it’s the morning after you met a hot stranger at the bar.

Word count:-1100

Warnings over & above:- most of this is done by messages to each other, masturbation,naughty photos suggesting activities, sexual tension, swearing, alcohol, hook up friends with benefits.

Thanks for giving this a read my loves. As always please thank @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for setting this up.

Had the night before been a blur, or did it happen? You weren’t sure. You knew you were overly tired on this Sunday morning. Not actual hangover that made you dash to the bathroom to be sick but you did have a small headache. Past you knew this would be the case for Louisa birthday & you had a bottle of water & some painkillers by the bed, past you knew future you would need them. You’d also clearly had not been that tipsy as you had got home, locked the house up, taken your make up off & changed into your sleep shirt. That blue & white stripy one. Yet as you laid there thinking about if you should get brunch, you also felt happy. Like something had happened the night before.

That’s when your 11:30 emergency alarm went off. You knew you didn’t want to sleep in & not get any sleep before work on Monday on Sunday night. You’d learnt from past mistakes. As your hand reached to turn it off it stopped. This made you sit up in bed & reach for the phone.

Unknown number

1 message

You swiped & clicked & your eyes widened.

Morning beautiful, hope you got in okay last night 😘

It floods back. The handsome man at the bar. The one with the dirty cap that looked older than him. The stray locks & curls trying to escape it. Big brown eyes. Soft large hands. A grey shirt & jeans which well showed him off in all his glory.

You lie in bed & smile. Your friends know you often don’t like guys to flirt with you at bars, but you signaled to them that this one was fine. He had started out nervous, but from your memory you remember a gently kiss on the back of your hand, you kissing his beard patch, & vaguely remember grabbing his phone to put his number in, before your girls dragged you to the next bar for their happy hour. Your eyes lingering on him for as long as you could. Your blushing right now thinking about him, when the next message pings through.

If you don’t remember me that’s fine, but I just want to check your okay.

You smile & reply to him.

Morning, I’m alive not hungover how are you… frankie?

Your being honest when you ask that, something in the back of you mind just clicked that this was his name.

Ahhh I’m so glad you’re alright, & yes I am Frankie… how many guys did you give your number to last night? You know he’s starting off soft but you can tell from the messages & how you body feels as you think of him, that he could be the right kind of trouble for you.

Just the one, he was kinda cute & shy, I liked him. You can’t see frankie blush as he reads that message.

Lucky him, so I didn’t scare you off?

No 2 for 1 cocktails are clearly more important to my friends than my dating life

Which is?

Until last night none exisitant

& now?

Possible

So you think I’m a good dancing partner?

Whoever said we’d go dancing?

I mean in bed?

You almost choke on your bottle of water at his reply, he’s being forward now he’s realised you’re up for it. It’s not usually what you go for but you are enjoying this. Your arousal growing, tempted to get out your vibrator as you message this handsome stranger from the night before.

Well that all depends, I like whoever I bed to take me on a date first

Ooooh so dinner before desert

Yes

Hmmmm & what would I wake up to each morning if I decided to peruse this. You then quickly snap a selfie not caring how bad your hair is & send it to him so he can see you sleeping in the sleep shirt. Frankie has to palm his cock instantly once he receives the photos.

Any panties under that?

Yes, a small red thong

Damn it baby

& you frankie? What does a smoking hot pilot wear to bed. Your turn to receive a topless selfie, you lick your lips looking at his good body, his chest you want to bury your head in as you bounce up & down on his cock moaning his name as he grabs your arse & he tells you to be a good girl. Your own hand goes to your clit.

Hmmm nice view

I think mine would be better. You then do the ultimate power move & take your thong off & send him a photo of it on the bedroom floor.

Well I’m sure that’s a view you’d like to see.

You fucking tease

You started it

Did not

Did too 🤪

You go back & forth with this. Your pace picking up. He’s asked you if you like someone in control, if you shut your eyes when you cum. The friction unbearable & you moan in a voice note going fuck yes. You have know I dear that this send him over the edge too. Frankie cums all over his hand. A waste he says to himself. After all the self pleasure he then send you one final message.

What if you turned your location on right now to your phone? What would happen?

I dunno come round & find out. You turn on your location & then hear nothing at all for 15mins. You lie there damp & ready to be ravaged by a man who you know nothing about other than he likes to pull a girls hair as she sits as his reverse cow girl.

Then the door bell goes off & you walk downstairs to open it. There in the midday sun stand frankie, he’d clearly thrown on what was near him, long shorts with paint stains on them a grey tshirt & that cap. you stand there still in just your night shirt & look at him.

“Hello handsome”

“Hi does this count as a date?” He asks as he clicks his keys to make sure his truck is locked & you can see his other hand is over his manhood trying to not cum at the state of you in a bed shirt that just about covers your bum.

“No but for you sexy”You wink & grab his hand”I’ll make an exception”

You drag him into your house & lock the door & he pushes you up against it. Clothes fly off everywhere as what was going to be your lazy Sundays for recovery becomes one of the most passionate afternoons of love making in your life.