#I love that! I’m not sick or nauseous at all!

[maltesejjong]

Its my first time putting a request so I'll try to sum it up!!

Could you make a bangchan x f!reader? Where yn and Chan have been trying for a child for abt 2 years they've had 3 or 4 miscarriages and after a long time, they have 2 beautiful twins!! (You don't have to do it if you don't want to!! Your health comes first 💗)

OMG ilysm for this. Thank you for being my first request, and thank you for trusting me to be your first request! Before I go any further, though, I want to touch on a few things with this one. First off: this is a very real thing that doesn’t get talked about enough . Miscarriages happen and there is no shame. If you have ever lost a baby before, please know that you are stronger than you think, and that you did nothing to deserve such a loss. Secondly: this is a major fear of mine. I want nothing more than to be a mother. I have had three moms throughout my life and I want to be able to give someone the love and protection the first two didn’t give me. I’m also the mom friend so yeah lmao. Finally, to all the moms out there, or those who would have been moms if not for this loss: thank you for all you do. You deserve more than what you have because you truly do the most unappreciated task in the world. You bring children into the world and give them life, regardless of if you lost the baby, there was still a life force that you created. That is an amazing accomplishment. I apologize ahead of time if any of that seemed insensitive but please know you are loved and appreciated. You are not alone🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

ONTO THE POST!

Warnings: mentions of miscarriages, that’s pretty much it. You’re married to Chan, afab!reader. Pure fluff! Oh, and mentions of girl dad Chan idk bout y’all but girl dad Chan needs a warning because he’s TOO DAMN MUCH ISTG HE IS A GIRL DAD

There’s a time skip bc I was lazy and wasn’t sure what to write as filler lol I’m sorry😭😭

Wc: Idek I didn’t count

Enjoy 😊

꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱

You sigh and drop your head back to rest on the cabinet behind you. It had been almost two whole hours since you laid the damp stick on the counter and slid down to sit on the cool tiled floor. You had been feeling nauseous lately, but chalked it up to something you ate.

Until you realized you’re late.

By three weeks.

Three. Whole. Weeks.

You’re never late.

So, of course, you decided to take a pregnancy test.

While your husband was at work.

It’s not that you don’t want Chan to know. It’s just… after so long, after trying for this long, all the disappointment and heartache that came with each failed pregnancy, you learned to avoid the topic of kids. Specifically kids of your own. As much as you both want kids, the hardship of discovering each miscarriage broke your spirits.

So you’ve learned not to get his hopes up. Which is why you keep a secret stash of pregnancy tests. Because no matter what, you always get your hopes up when you realize what is most likely going on with your body.

You close your eyes, trying to relax your mind when your phone buzzes, bringing you out of your thoughts.

💙channie💙: hey princess. I’m on my way home

You: alright babe

💙channie💙: want anything from the store?

You: ice cream?

💙channie💙: ofc baby. I’ll see you soon love you

You: love you too. Drive safe💞

Sighing, you put your phone down, knowing you need to get this over with before he gets home. You slide your thumb over the diamond on your left hand before pushing yourself up to look at the results of the test.

“Shit,” you mutter. “I knew it.”

Four months later

You let out a sigh as the doctor spreads the cold gel across your belly, which, despite being four months pregnant, has stayed suspiciously flat. Hence why Chan never caught on.

“How’s the morning sickness?” Dr. Kim asks.

“Gone,” you say.

“Any general nausea?”

You shake your head. “Only when I sit or stand up too fast.”

He nods and hums to himself. “Any cramping? Abnormal bleeding?”

“None,” you happily reply.

His eyes flick up to yours. “Have you told your husband yet?”

You close your eyes. “No,” you whisper. “And please don’t hint to him.”

“Like I would,” the doctor scoffs.

Dr. Kim, as he is known at work, is one of your closest friends. The only time you ever call him Dr anything is when you’re in his office. Outside these walls, he’s just Seungmin to you. Your best friend since high school. He’s also the first person you tell when you’ve gotten pregnant in the past… and the first to know when you lost the baby.

“I can’t tell him, Min,” you say quietly.

“Why’s that?”

You feel your eyes start to burn. “What if I lose another one?”

Seungmin stops what he’s doing and grabs your hand. “Y/n, do you realize how long it’s been? It’s been four months. In the past, it only lasted half of that. I think it’s safe to tell him. You’re more than halfway through your pregnancy. Doesn’t he deserve to know?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t want to get his hopes up, though. It would crush him.”

“And it wouldn’t crush you?”

You blink back tears.

“Y/nnie, this is why you’re married. In sickness and in health, remember? You’re with each other through thick and thin. If this is gonna crush him, then let it crush you too. It’s okay to go through that. I understand protecting him, but have you ever considered that he wants to do the same to you, but he can’t? Let him in. Let it hurt if it ends up hurting. But you’ll heal together.”

“Minnie… as a professional… do you…?”

He understands your unfinished question. “Yes, love,” he says, eyes softening. “I think it’ll make it. So tell him.”

You take a deep breath and nod. “I will.”

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

You feel something tickle your shoulder and sleepily roll away from it. But it returns, traveling up to your neck.

“Mmm,” you groan tiredly.

“Morning, beautiful,” Chan whispers against your skin.

You roll over to face him. “Morning,” you reply, feeling a loopy grin stretch across your face. You sigh contentedly when his hand slides up your waist and rests there, holding you close. You peek up at him, recognizing the glimmer in his eyes. “What?”

His dimples appear. “Nothing,” he instantly replies. “You’re just so pretty.”

You squint at him. “Is that all?”

“What? I can’t call you pretty?”

“Christopher Chan, I know that look in your eyes. Out with it.”

He props himself up on one elbow, half hovering over you. “I was thinking…”

“Oh boy, that’s never good,” you tease, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft black hair.

He closes his eyes in bliss for a moment, than takes a deep breath. “What do you think about adopting?”

You go still. “What?”

“Adoption. I don’t know I just think maybe it’s time to add another member to the family?”

You bite your lip. “But… baby. We already have another addition to the family.”

He looks at you, obviously confused off his ass. “We do?”

You nod, steeling yourself. “Well… it might take a bit but… yeah we do…”

“Love, what are you talking about? It’s not a very long process. Did you pick one out without telling me?”

You feel your eyes widen as you realize he’s not talking about the same thing you are. “Channie, what are you on about?”

“I asked you first.”

You shake your head. “Not until you spill.”

“A dog, babe. What else?”

“A… a dog?” You ask in exasperation. “I thought you were talking about a child, Christopher.”

“No…?” You watch his eyebrows join together in thought. “Wait. Back up. We already have another addition? What is that supposed to mean?”

Shit. “Umm…” you start to consider saying you actually did pick out a dog already. “Nothing.”

“No no no no no. Nah-uh. Y/n. What did you mean?”

You shake your head, refusing to answer.

“Fine then.” His hands meet your shoulders and he pushes you into your back, hovering over you. “You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Then I’m not getting up.” And he plops down on top of you, dead weight.

Of course, it hurts. Hurts even more considering you have an extra little someone residing in you. “Shut,” you yelp. “Chan get off.”

There’s something in your tone that makes him shoot up. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “Not… not me…”

“Then who…” as his voice trails off, so do his eyes, until they land on your stomach. “Fuck. Wait. No.” He looks up at you. “No. Baby. What?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Yes.”

“Shit. I…” he places a hand on your stomach. “I— I could’ve hurt you,” he whispers, staring down at your tummy.

“Baby, look at me. Please?” He does and you cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s alright.”

He bites his lip. “Are… are you sure?”

You nod.

“How long?”

“Four… four months,” you whisper.

He blinks. Five times. “What?”

You nod. “I had an appointment with Minnie and he said everything looks fine. He said that I just have a late developing baby bump. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just didn’t want us to get our hopes up… But Min said that since it’s been so long and I’m already more than halfway there…”

Chan’s eyes light up. “There’s a chance?”

“A very high one. You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?”

“That I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He shakes his head. “Baby. No. I’m not mad love. I understand your hesitation to tell me. Truly.”

You blink. “Why are you so calm right now?” You bury your face in his arm, which is still planted next to your head. “I feel like I’m freaking out and I want to cry and… God I don’t even know.”

He presses a kiss to your hair. “Because I know freaking out won’t help you and staying calm is the best way to process this.”

You sigh. “Why are you so perfect?”

“Just part of the charm. Besides, I have two princesses to take care of; I can’t let myself be anything less than that.”

You turn to face him. “Two?” You ask, raising your eyebrow.

He smiled sheepishly. “I feel like it’s gonna be a girl.”

You hmmm in thought. “What if it’s a boy?”

“Then I’ll still be nothing less than perfect. I’m just saying I think it’ll be a girl.”

“I think you just want to be a girl dad,” you tease lovingly.

He blushes slightly. “Maybe.” He leans forward and nuzzles your neck. “I think id be a great girl dad.”

You kiss the side of his head. “I think you’d be a great anything dad.”

“We got this,” he whispers against your neck. “We always do.”

You wrap your arms around him. “You still want to adopt?”

He chuckles. “Babe, you just told me we’re having a baby, and now you want to add a puppy in the mix?”

You shrug. “Why not? We’re growing our family, right?”

He nods against you.

“So then let’s grow it.”

@linoalwaysknows Tysm again for submitting the request

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz ff #christopher bang

[stevesharrlngtons]

.

#love having anxiety and ocd!!! #love that this whole weekend I have been a neurotic mess thinking about every mistake and bad thing I have ever done and how that means- #I shouldn’t get what I want in life #I love that! I’m not sick or nauseous at all!

[daydadahlias]

no but seriously the next person that makes a joke/comment about me fucking/dating my only guy friend because people 1) feel the need to press heteronormative bullshit onto every different-sex friendship and make the mass generalization that men and women always secretly want to fuck each other and 2) genuinely don’t view asexuality/aromanticism as valid and cannot comprehend how to be supportive and validating of it,, is going to get their shit rocked bc I’ve had about fucking enough of it :)

#no bc it’s happened to often #I’ve never really had guy friends tbh #like guy friends that were just mine #I’ve hung out in groups where guys were there but I’ve never had a guy friend that only me and him went and did things #bc I don’t feel safe around men uwu #but this year I’ve made a guy friend. and he’s super sweet and I really like him!! we have a great time hanging out and it’s purely platonic #he’s dating a girl and he knows I’m aroace and is totally chill with that !! so we have the understanding that I am genuinely INCAPABLE #of being into him. and he is NOT into me. we are just. friends. #but we go out to lunch/dinner and hang out and blah blah #and today we hung out to a few hours between classes and wandered around downtown and we bought matching stuffed mice lol #they’re so cute I love them #and I was showing off my mouse to people and happily explaining my day #and so many of my friends… all of my irl friends… were like #‘so you went on a date? so you’re into him? that’s a date sweetheart. you’re totally gonna get married and have babies with him’ #like those are ALL things that friends actually said #and it just made me feel like actively nauseous #bc 1) the thought of it makes me sick and 2) the fact that my friends just. don’t care about my sexuality #and my expression that I’ve reiterated time and TIME again makes me crazy #bc I know that every single time i mention Caleb people are hopping on it and wanting me to date him #and this is another reason I’ve never had guy friends!! #like oh my gOd!! I’m not into men!! leave me the fuck alone!!!!!! #yeah it makes me really upset :) #that’s my complaint of the week sigh #it’s heteronormative BULLSHIT!!! and the permeation of sex into oit society!!! #some of us don’t want to fuck our guy friends!!!! #leave me alone or be fucking nice to me #nobody would make jokes if I got matching mice with a woman #I HAVE matching stuffed animals with women!! it’s just something I do with FRIENDS #why are different sex friendships different #die maybe have u considered that

[tragedykery]

I hate. complicated friendships

#I love her but also. #I feel like such a bad friend for complaining about her but she’s just so. incredibly inconsiderate #like we planned to hang out ish at 1 pm today. suddenly she texts me like ‘hey I’m coming around 14:30 instead’ #she knows I’m autistic too she knows how important having a schedule is for me and she pulls sth like that?? #maybe it’s the fact that she’s an only child but ​she just expects the world and everyone else to accommodate for her #one time we were on a school trip and I was nauseous and I mentioned that to her and she just. made it all about herself??? #like I get she’s got emetophobia but turning the conversation into a fifteen-minute-long rant about if I vomited to please not do it #anywhere she could see bc if I did she would cry and feel absolutely terrible for the rest of the day and etc etc etc #like bestie IM the one who’s sick here??? #and like 50% of our conversations are just her venting at me (even more if you count the ones over text) and it’s. I don’t mind it when it’s #a normal amoun but she just treats me like an object for her to vent at and I Understand there’s stuff she can’t tell her therapist/coach bc #he knows her parents and she’s afraid he’ll tell on her if she talks about gender stuff (she’s not out) and I’m the closest trans friend she #has so I’m the person who understands it the best but it’s just. SO much #(but the moment I vent for once I just feel like she. doesn’t listen and that she thinks I’m just being too sensitive) #and that’s definitely my fault too bc idk how to communicate when she makes me uncomfortable with stuff like that #and she’s autistic too and doesn’t understand hints at all so I’d need to just State it and that feels so incredibly mean but. #there’s more instances I’m not typing out but just. ugh. I love her I really do and I feel like such a child for complaining about her on #tumblr dot com and I know I’m at fault too for not communicating when she makes me uncomfortable I’m not pretending I’m not to blame at all #but she’s self-centred and inconsiderate and. ugh #vent #elli rambles

[enavant]

goodmorning 💖 i think i caught some sickness someone brought around me :’(

#[ i hope u are all doing lovely i blow u smooches n hugs ] #[ i’m feeling extremely poorly today;; angy at whoever brought a sickness round 😭 ] #[ i’ll attempt writing but i’m woozy n high fever n nauseous n pain etc but i wanna write ueueue ] #━━ ❥ out of character »

[nightly-ruse]

I have a very tight spectrum of being a loner empty cold hearted bitch and little baby who has a panic attack if my mom goes missing

#today has been empty smoke day #that’s how it feels like embodying smoke #or I’m a wittle baby who needs attention and has a breakdown over the wrong food in my vicinity #ruse rambles #vent tag #kinda I mean #both are not good and I wish I wasn’t like this but it’s just me #sucks to not be able to eat foods and being unable to explain why #the idea of eating sausage or bacon makes me feeling nauseous. just the thought #but I can’t explain why so I just say I’m picky when no that’s def not what it is #applesauce grits pears maple syrup most pork beside ham and fat on meat all make me feel sick #it sucks. I love food and making it or exploring new types but certain ones and I’m out for a whole day #spreads way past food but that’s been my main trigger today #hate whatever makes me like this sometimes. a lot of time actually but that’s for another day

[jamminvroomvroom]

die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

~

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

-

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.���

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

-

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

~

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

~

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

-

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

-

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

-

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

-

let me know what you think :D

-

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(i ran out of tags omg? whoops) lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris oneshot #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #formula 1 smut #f1 fics #formula 1 fics #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #lando norris fics #smut #fluff #angst #writing things #requests

[inkdrinkerworld]

Reader takes bc and experiences nausea and loss in appetite because of it

“Spencer I’m not taking it and you can’t force me.” It’s Sunday, a day that used to be your favourite but once a month when you get your period Sunday becomes the day you take your first birth control for the month and you’re plagued with almost immediate nausea.

“Angel,” he coos softly, stroking your hand as you lay pitifully in bed. Spencer knows it can’t feel good, he’s been nauseous before and it isn’t fun. It’s even less fun seeing you so pale and bleak and a little down as you try to get a handle on yourself again.

“No,” you shake your head, turning away from where he’s got the box and a bottle water extended to you. “Can’t I just skip this month?”

Spencer knows it’s bad, it’s terrible on the best of days. But he also knows how bad it is when you don’t take the pills.

He doesn’t know how to make it better, he isn’t a medical doctor but he’s spoken to your OBGYN and she’d said to stick it out till your next appointment.

Except, sticking it out gives you intense sickness, a loss in appetite most days and a craving for refreshing fruits- like watermelon and cucumbers- when you finally do want to eat, which isn’t substantial enough to take any of your medicine.

“You know you can’t, angel.” He sets the things down near your legs. Spencer’s hand coasts your forehead and cheek. “Remember this is a new brand, the nausea is normal. I know it doesn’t feel good, but it’ll help in the long run.”

You know he’s trying to help but right now you don’t give a damn about the long run.

“C’mon, beautiful.” He’s pulling out the big guns now. Stroking your chin and calling you beautiful like that; all head in the clouds, full of love with his big brown eyes. “There’s soda crackers too, and when you feel up to it we can go get whatever you’d like for breakfast, yeah?”

“Spence,” but he only stays silent, looking at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky individually. “Can we get bagels? I want egg, ham and cheese in mine.”

Spencer rewards you with a dazzling smile and drops a kiss to your forehead. “We can get that and fresh ones for the week, angel.” He sets the tablet in your hand and opens the water, rubbing your hair out of your face as you swallow.

“What happened to beautiful?” Spencer laughs, reaching for the green tin of crackers.

“Here you go beautiful,” you preen, taking three crackers and nibbling slowly. “Proud of you, know it’s annoying to deal with.”

You nod, laying back down on your pillow when you finish the crackers.

“Think they’ll ever stop giving me nausea?” You ask Spencer, suddenly shifting positions so you can lay your head in his lap.

“They say it’s only supposed to last for the first three months, all statistics point to that being true. But bodies are all different, it’s not a one size fits all, maybe it won’t happen this month, maybe it’ll persist. Medicine is tricky when you add hormones into the mix.”

It isn’t as reassuring as you’d wanted to hear, but you know Spencer will help you through all the nausea and mood swings as long as he’s home.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #tw: nausea

[luveline]

hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home 

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text. 

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me? 

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner? 

What kind of dinner my love  

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken 

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you 

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable 

What’s wrong??? 

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there 

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You don’t have to rush over.” 

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.” 

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?” 

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.” 

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?” 

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.” 

“You’re always good company, you loon.” 

“You what?” 

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.” 

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.” 

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?” 

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Spencer!” you laugh. 

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?” 

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.” 

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.” 

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear. 

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway. 

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.” 

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.” 

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?” 

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?” 

“It’s in my back.” 

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.” 

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.” 

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?” 

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise. 

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?” 

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.” 

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.” 

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.” 

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly. 

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[viennakarma]

Say something (I'm giving up on you)

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Your husband tells you the truth about Vegas, and it makes your perfect sandcastle crumble.

Word count: 6k

Tags: Female reader, established relationship, wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, mild somnophilia, mentions of pregnancy and children, very very angsty, no hea, not beta read

Relationships: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Notes: To be honest, this is very personal and something I needed to get off my chest before going back to my WIPs lol. Sorry if it's rushed or something, I was just going with the flow. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

Ending 1: moving on

Ending 2: forgiving

Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)

As soon as you got out of the shower, a robe on your body and a towel around your head, you noticed how Lewis was sitting there, looking somewhat defeated.

“Hey, I know this season wasn’t what you expected but I’m sure it will get better,” you muttered, noticing how he was down, you stood between his legs, holding his head, pushing his braids away from his face, “I’m hoping you’ll have a great car next year. I’ll put the kettle on, so we can drink a little tea.”

He didn’t answer as you pecked his lips and went downstairs. You had just turned the kettle on when Lewis came down too, stopping in the middle of the kitchen.

“I need to tell you something,” he started and you paused, waiting, “something happened in Vegas.”

You felt your heart accelerate, you didn’t like that tone, so instead of asking more, you just waited, holding your breath.

“I cheated.”

It’s like you were punched in the gut, and you gasped for air. Your eyes immediately teared up, but you held in, waiting for his next words. You held yourself up with both hands on the kitchen island, because your legs felt like they might just give in. You stared at him, numb. Waiting for it to be some sick and unfunny joke, but the guilt in his eyes was so real.

“It happened in Vegas, and it didn’t mean anything at all, and I’m so so sorry, I know I should never have done it, and I regret it. I love you so much, I never wanted to hurt you, please believe me, I’ll do anything for your forgiveness, whatever you want just say th-”

At that point you stopped listening, looking down at your hand sprawled on the countertop, the wedding band and the engagement ring you wore on top of it felt like they were burning, like a curse just about to ruin your perfect life.

Like a beautiful sandcastle crumbling under a big wave, your perfect life came crashing down, with a couple of words and one single decision that never came from you. Your plans, your dreams, your future that always had Lewis beside you now were turning to dust. And it hurt like fucking hell, like you were under the wreckage, something heavy compressing your chest leaving you to die an agonizing death.

Lewis walked up to you, trying to take your hand but you moved out of his reach, taking a step back.

“Please, just say something. Anything. Please, love. Scream at me, hit me, key my car, anything. Please, say something,” He begged you, and all you could feel was pain, a knot in your stomach as you walked away, numbly going back to your room, locking the door behind you because you could hear him coming after you.

You held your head, this feeling of despair gnawing your insides, and you pulled the wedding band and engagement ring out, leaving it at the bedside table. Your tears came down and you looked at the bed were you had made love on the night before, were you had fucked his brains out just because you wanted him to feel better, after being upset with how the season ended. He hid this information for more than a week, because you had been in Abu Dhabi with him for moral support. Crying, you pull off the bed sheets, leaving them on the floor when the knot in your stomach makes you too nauseous. Running to the bathroom, you puke your disgust away, crying and dry heaving after there was nothing left in your stomach.

You were going to leave your job next year because you two were planning to try for kids. You were going to dedicate yourself to finally writing your book. You were going to join him the whole season, to never leave his side, to go wherever he went. You were going to buy a place in his hometown too, to be close to his family whenever you two had the time. You had planned to have a baby in England, because of Lewis.

How after five years together, after two years of marriage you had crafted your life around his. How you’d drop everything to make him happy, because his happiness made you happy. He knew cheating was your only and strongest dealbreaker, you had told him countless times during your relationship, you had reminded him before the wedding too, and he had said he would never be interested in anyone else.

You pulled a towel from under the sink and sobbed into it. You could still hear his voice outside, muffled by the door. Going back to bed, you put your wedding band back again, staring at it as a token of your happiest years.

You cried yourself to sleep.

The next morning you woke up and did your morning routine in pain. It was like you had to live feeling the pulsating pain of a broken bone. As you opened the door, Lewis was sleeping on the hallway floor by the door. Avoiding him, you went to the kitchen, but you didn’t have the energy to cook anything, so you grabbed the key of one of his cars and left for a coffee shop.

Everything felt like an out of body experience, like you were in automatic mode, going with the flow, buying a muffin and a tea because that’s what you did every time. Greeting the waitress with a small smile, like always. The only difference was going back to the car instead of eating inside the cafe, and eating there, pushing food inside so you could have some resemblance of normalcy. Your phone had been ringing for the past thirty minutes non stop, the ringtone you had put specifically for him, the song you had your first dance in your wedding. You think about that Lewis, that man who would never do anything that could hurt you. The one with dreams and promises, the man who would say he wanted kids with you, the one who always had a description of the kids you would have. She’ll have your eyes and my hair, he would say, daydreaming, hopefully she’ll have your beautiful smile, Lew, you would add.

Driving around for a while, your phone on Do not disturb, you watched the streets of Monaco, bustling with people, locals and tourists, walking around, going to boutiques and cafés, and you noticed how Monaco had never been your first choice to live in. You would rather a place a little bit colder, with lots of libraries and historical places, with mountains and lakes.

You went back home hours later, and as soon as you got inside, you were faced with Lewis, pale and visibly worried, phone in hand.

“Oh my god, I was so worried! I thought- I thought you had left me- Where were you?”

“Driving” you kicked your shoes and went to the kitchen to drink water. After downing two full glasses, you went outside, sitting by the view of the city.

You painfully loved him, the kind of love you once were happy to let yourself dive in, and now you were drowning.

“Please, can we talk about it?” He asked, by the balcony door as if he were afraid to scare you away like a skittish animal. You nodded, and he carefully sat on the chair beside you. “Can we work on it? Do you think you may have it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I don’t know, Lewis, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“We can do marriage counseling, we can do anything you want, we can- we can move, buy another place, we can adopt a kitten, like you’ve always wanted, or we can renew our vows, I can gi-give you a pass, so we’ll be even-”

“I honestly don’t know how to fix this, Lewis. I’m not sure it’s even fixable.”

You two stared into the horizon, lost in thoughts.

“Give me a chance, and I’ll fix it, love. I’ll do everything in my power to fix it.”

“Tell me what happened,” you commanded, not looking at him.

“Love, please, don’t do this.”

“You want to fix this, right? Then start by telling me the whole truth.”

And he did. He told you who was, Kate-something, an influencer who had been a fling of his from the past, before you. They had met unexpectedly during the Vegas Grand Prix, she had been invited by some other team. He told you almost everything, leaving out details about the sex, but he told you everything else, and you listened, unmoved, only the tears falling down nonstop.

The next couple of days consisted of Lewis buying you things, food, jewelry, clothes and planning a trip for after the holidays. You slept in your room, and Lewis slept in the guest room, giving you space, to whenever you were comfortable to share a bed with him again. You had every meal together, sometimes he cooked, sometimes he had it delivered. You tried to engage in conversation, but in the end, Lewis was doing most of the talking. Chatting about news of his friends, about his team, about the plans for the trip.

As you sat in the office, you opened a drawer and picked up your resignation letter. You had left it written to hand it when you got back from the holidays. The letter was brief, thanking everyone for the opportunity to work at their company, thanking your boss for all the lessons and explaining you were leaving to become a homemaker. You scoffed at it now, ripping the letter in half and throwing it in the trash.

Maybe you needed to take a step back from everything. The plans and the dreams and the future. Maybe you just needed to give him a chance, you loved him so much, and this kind of love doesn’t go away with a snap of the fingers.

Maybe he was right and if you two started all over, maybe you could fix this.

“I know it might be too soon, but would you consider going on a date? Just like the old times,” he asked one morning a few days later, as you ate breakfast.

“Sure, Lewis.”

He nodded, and you knew he was feeling the way you didn’t call him love or honey anymore. He planned a date that same night. You dressed up to the nines, just to feel some normalcy, just to feel like yourself again. You had dressed in a black long sleeved dress, with some transparency in the sleeves, a black scarpin and you tied your hair in an elegant high ponytail and those bright red lipsticks Lewis liked.

He looked at you in wonder as you came down the stairs.

“You look stunning, my love.” He whispered, taking your hand and making you spin. You felt that spark in your stomach again, well, a little bit of that.

He took you to a two star restaurant, one you’d always go on date nights. He also drove you there in your favorite Mercedes. You decided to put in the effort, to make conversation, to engage with him the whole night. You ate, talked, laughed and drank a couple of wine glasses.

By the end of the night, you had felt a resemblance of normalcy again. When Lewis was picking the tab, you went to the toilet, and you saw a woman trying to change a baby’s diaper. She dropped the box of wet wipes, and you bent down to pick it.

“Thank you, lovely!” She said as you handed it back. You peeked at the baby, a little girl who couldn’t be older than a year.

“Hi there, princess!” You said with a baby voice.

“Can you keep an eye on her just as I pee quickly, I’m sorry to bother,” the mother asked.

“Don’t worry,” you said, carrying the baby she had just finished changing. As the woman entered the stall, you decided to ask, “How has it been, being a mom?”

“Oh, it’s amazing. Of course it’s not easy, but my husband has been a great help around the house and the baby. I couldn’t be happier!”

You looked to the mirror, the baby in your arms, and you imagined living this with Lewis. And you just couldn’t. Because he wouldn’t be there all the time anyway. He would be traveling the world, racing for his championship, you would follow him, but at some point you would have to stop, you would have to settle home the last trimester, and he wouldn’t be there. Would he miss your baby’s birth?

You wondered if he would cheat again when you weren’t there.

As you left the toilet, your mood had dwindled again.

Lewis noticed as you were quiet going home, head against the window, watching the city and mumbling the song playing in the car.

As you arrived home, you pushed Lewis against the sofa, he looked confused, but his eyes followed your hands as you pulled your dress up, bunching it around your hips so you could straddle his lap.

“Baby, I don’t think w-” he started talking, but you held his chin.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, pressing your lips against his.

You kissed him like you were starved, showing him how much you missed him, how much you loved him. He let you guide the kiss, opening your mouth and entangling your tongues, your hips grinding on him. He whispered nonsense as he kissed your face and neck, I missed you so much, love, nibbling at your neck, I love you my baby, pulling your dress down to free your tits, sucking on your nipples, missed this, baby, you’re so fucking sexy, you ground on him, moving and moaning as his hand held your ass, guiding your movements. You were so wet, you missed his touch so much.

As you looked down, seeing his lips latched onto your nipple, your mind drifted, wondering if he touched the other woman like this, if he talked dirty to her like that.

And you were immediately turned off.

“Stop, stop,” you pushed him and he let you go easily, scrambling to the sofa and away from his lap, “red, red!” You shouted your safe word.

Breathless, Lewis nodded, as you quickly pulled the cups of your dress up, covering your boobs and pulled your dress down, eyes watering. He stared at you, confused and not knowing how to act. You two were very creative in the bedroom, but you only used the safe word a few times whenever you two were in the mood for some BDSM scenes, you had never used your safe word in a normal setting.

“Are you ok?” He asked, finally and you just shook your head.

“Was she better than me?” You asked, voice small and vulnerable.

“What? Baby, no, never! You’re my everything.” He sat by your side, but you stood up in wobbly legs, nervous.

You wanted to ask why, if you were enough, if you were everything, then why he felt the need to do it. Why would he throw away so many years, such a beautiful love story that you used to joke you would tell your grandkids about.

You started walking away, but Lewis ran up to you and blocked your path.

“Please, let’s talk it out,” He asked, eyes pleading. You stared at his lips, and something inside you just snapped.

“I don’t want to talk! FUCK!” You pushed past him, “I look at you and I can only picture you with her! I feel your hands on my body and I hate it because I can only think of you touching her, and kissing her and fucking making love to her! Look at us! Look at everything you ruined because you just couldn’t not get your dick wet! Because you couldn’t wait five fucking days for me!”

You tried not to sob, running a hand over your face.

“And you were perfect and I love you, and I hate myself for loving you because I don’t trust you! I keep thinking that if one day I miss the flight to your race, will you cheat again? If- if I have to work and you suddenly feel lonely, will you cheat again? If we fight for some reason, will you cheat again?”

“We can fix this, we go to counseling or-

“FIX WHAT? I didn’t break anything! Because I love you so much that the idea of lying with another man disgusts me! You broke my heart, our home and our future!”

He was crying too when you looked at him.

You took the keys to his car and slipped away, driving around, trying to clear your head. Deep down you wished you could forgive and forget, you wished you could get over that mistake, but now everything around the house reminds you of his mistake.

You lost control of the car and crashed against a tree. It wasn’t a big crash, even though the hood of the car looked totalled. You called someone to take the destroyed car away, and you took an Uber to the hospital, just to make sure you didn’t hit your head too hard. In the hospital, they put a bandaid on the small cut and you held an ice pack above the swelling in the side of your forehead, they also gave you a few pills for the pain and possible headache.

You went back home hours later, and Lewis was waiting by the living room.

“Where were-” he stopped short, seeing the small cut on your forehead, “oh, god, what happened?”

“I crashed your car, I’m sorry. It wasn’t a big deal, I’m ok,” you walked into the kitchen to take one of the pills for the incoming headache.

“What? Why didn’t you call me?” Lewis followed you.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you repeated calmly.

“Are you kidding me? You’re bleeding!”

“I’m not, it was just a small piece of glass that grated my forehead, but I’m ok, it doesn’t really hurt,” you muttered, wanting to go to sleep, “I’m sorry about your car, I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the car! I’m worried about you!” He came closer, holding your face with both hands, looking around for any more injuries.

You stared at his face, his eyes that had been such a source of happiness and unconditional love were now painful to see. Handsome still, but you couldn’t see him as yours anymore. You took his hands off you gently.

“I’m ok. I’ll pay for your car.” You reinforced, taking a step back.

“Our car, love. You’re my wife. And you don’t have to pay for it.” He corrected you, but you couldn’t feel anything.

Because the car was his. All the cars were his. The house was his, too. The dog was his. The properties. Everything belonged to him. You belonged to him the whole time. And now you just didn’t anymore.

You had signed a prenup before the wedding, which had been an idea that came from Lewis’ lawyer. Your husband had been angrily against it, but you didn’t mind signing it, because it was never about the money. Even upset signing the prenup, Lewis still took all of your expenses, bills, house and cars, and everything else. There was a cheating clause on that document, one you never bothered to read or memorize because cheating was never on your mind.

A couple of days later you had barely said a word to him, and you were having breakfast when he approached you.

“I’ll call mum later, to tell her we’re not going to her birthday dinner,” Lewis informed you.

“No, we’re going. We’re not going to spoil her celebration because of our problems,” you shook your head.

So you went to dinner at his mom’s. Everyone was there and you brought her a gold necklace with a peony pendant, since it was her favorite flower. You and Lewis tried to pretend nothing was wrong as to not ruin the mood of the night. You still sat by his side, ate and talked with everyone. Lewis knew you were faking being ok, because your smiles didn’t reach your eyes anymore, and every time he tried any physical touch like holding hands, putting a hand on your shoulder or pulling you to his lap, your body would tense up, so he would let go of you.

By then end of the night, you were pretty sure everyone had believed your act, but when Carmen asked for help with taking her presents upstairs, you knew she knew too.

“What is going on, love? You’re not your usual self today.”

You felt your eyes filling up and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You adored Carmen, you adored Lewis’ family, his siblings, his parents and his nephews and nieces. But Carmen had become a second mum to you from the beginning, being the first person to welcome you with open arms.

“Talk to me, dear,” she asked and the kindness in her voice made you cry even more, sobbing so much she had to hug you holding you tight.

“This is probably the last time we’ll see each other as family, Carmen,” you warned her, and her face crumbled just like yours did.

“No… No, honey, what happened?” She asked, and you shook your head.

“You talk to him later, and I’m sure he will tell you whenever he’s ready,” you muttered, not wanting to meddle in a mother-son relationship, not wanting to poison it. You pulled the engagement ring from your finger, the beautiful engraved jewel, that had belonged to Carmen's family for generations, had ended up with you, and you had expected to pass it down to a kid you’d have with Lewis. You gave the ring back to her.

“For when he finds the one.”

“No, you’re the one for him, honey,” she exclaimed, teary eyed.

“I wish I was, but I’m not,” you stared longingly at the ring sitting on the palm of her hand.

“One day he will need it again, and he will find someone and you’ll love her just as much. I’ll be just the distant past, but I hope you save a little space in your heart for me, yeah?” You laughed a little bit, wiping the tears on your cheeks. She only nodded, her own tears falling down. “Thank you for taking me in all these years, for embracing me into your family, I’m very grateful for that.”

You two cried a little more, and you tried to mask your crying face after a few minutes in the bathroom.

In the end, unfortunately, Lewis' family convinced you to stay the night since it would be a long drive back to Lewis’ place in London. You ended up sharing a bed for the first time since he admitted to cheating. You laid there with your back turned to him in the dark.

You couldn’t sleep for a couple of hours, but he did. When you turned back around, you stared at his beautiful face. Your dreamy, handsome husband. You softly traced imaginary lines in his face, tracing his eyebrows and nose, the tip of your finger running over his lips and cupids’ bow. How could you love someone so deeply and still not want to be with them? How could you not just put everything behind?

He knew you so well, he knew of you past of being cheated on, of going through abusive relationships. He knew where you draw the lines. He knew your limitations and still went ahead with cheating on you.

You got up from the bed, you went to the small armchair, opening your iPad to try and watch a movie or something to help you sleep. But as you unlocked it, the tab open was the project you had made for the family home you and Lewis were going to build for when you had kids. The finished project hit you like a punch in the gut.

You went inside the bathroom and took a break. It was the middle of the night, and everyone was asleep, so you just sat on the closed toilet to try and calm down the aching pain in your chest. When you came back, Lewis was awake going through your iPad you had left unlocked.

“What’s- What’s this?”

“It’s the project for our home, I was going to gift it to you on your birthday,” you whispered, sitting by his side on the floor, your backs to the bed.

Lewis sniffled, and you didn’t look at his face because you didn’t want to see him cry. He kept looking at the project, going page after page, seeing all the details you had thoughtfully put there. He started crying even harder when he saw the nurseries you had designed. When he saw the tennis court, because you and him loved playing with his dad, and talked countless times about teaching your kids to play. When Lewis saw the big kitchen with the panel wall where you could place pictures and drawings and notes. When he saw the sunroom, with toys and your small library, and Lewis’ videogames. All the tidbits you and him had dreamed about during your five years relationship.

“We can’t let this all go, love” he said between soft cries.

“God, I hate metaphors,” you whispered, drying the tears that came down, “but we’re a broken mirror, Lewis. We can try and fix it, and glue all the pieces back together, but the cracks will still be there.”

“I don't know how I messed up this badly, I don’t even know why-” he set the iPad down, staring at his hands, “I’m so sorry, so so sorry.”

You only nodded, getting up. You went back to bed, laying under the covers.

“I know,” you whispered after a few minutes. He came back to bed too, laying beside you without touching you.

“The project is beautiful. I love it.” He muttered staring at the ceiling.

“I do too.”

When you left his mom’s house, with a tight goodbye hug with Carmen, Lewis had to go to Brackley for work and you went back to Monaco. 

You thought you may have a chance to fix everything. But as the days he was away passed, you started to wonder if he went to England to really work. If he wasn’t going to meet someone, the Kate-something, or any other of his flings from the past. If he even was in Brackley as he said he was.

The trust was gone.

As if it wasn’t bad enough as it was, the lady, Kate-something texted you. You had no idea how she got your number, and the text read:

“Ask your husband what he did after the Las Vegas GP.”

You scoffed, thinking she was a little late for a shocking revelation. You screenshotted the text just in case and blocked her number after, without bothering to let Lewis know about it.

You were one foot out of the door already.

The dreaded day came when you met with a lawyer, a big shot famous lawyer who always worked with famous people when they wanted a low profile divorce. She was very respectful of all your wishes, though with the small fortune you were going to pay for her services, being polite and helpful was the least she could do. She drafted a divorce agreement following all your requirements, especially in regards to the prenup.

The next few days, you read and reread the divorce papers, leaving them in the locked drawer in your office.

When Lewis came back from the Mercedes factory, it was night and you were having a glass of wine by the balcony.

“Want a nightcap?” You offered your glass to him. He nodded, taking a sip off the half full glass, “how was work?”

He told you about all the work in the factory, going to dinner with his teammate and meeting with his boss. It was almost like before, for a few minutes it was just a regular day in your married life. Lewis helped you put everything away in the kitchen and you went upstairs.

When he was about to go into the guest room, you stopped him.

“Lewis,” you asked and he looked at you hopefully, “can you sleep with me tonight?”

“Whatever you want, love.”

So you settled in for sleep, both of you going through your nightly routine, and finally, laying in bed. You took the initiative to cuddle him, nose against his neck, inhaling his scent and your ear above his heart.

You slept great for the first time since you were in separate beds. But you woke up in the middle of the night. And the way the little lampshade by the bedside table lit up the side of his face, peacefully asleep, handsome and yours. Fully yours still.

You couldn’t help the small kiss on his chest, above his heart, the other kiss on his cheek, and a third one on his neck, that had him waking up.

“Baby?” Lewis looked at you. You kissed his lips, open mouthed, sloppy and desperate.

“Shh,” you kissed his chest again, now he was fully awake, surrendered under your touch. You straddled him, your body missing him so much, his touch and his love, and the twilight making everything feel like before, you couldn’t help but desire him with burning passion.

“Love,” he stopped you, holding your jaw softly, “are you sure?”

“Please, just be mine tonight, yeah?” You asked him in a small voice.

“I’m yours forever, love.”

And so you drowned in him, one last time. You tossed your pajamas away, as he sat up in the bed, kissing your neck down, biting softly at your nipples, taking it painfully slow just in case you changed your mind. You ground against him, his cock hard under your ministrations. You pulled his pants down, and he kicked it to the floor, as you slid your cunt over his length, dripping over him, moaning loud and hearing his groans as his hands settled on your hips, letting you take control, doing whatever you wanted.

You got on your knees just so you could line him up at your entrance, pushing down slowly, letting him stretch you well, your body accommodating him perfectly like it should always be. And so you started riding him, slowly at first, but then you pounded him into the mattress, fucking him into oblivion. His hands were all around, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist and slapping your ass the way he knew drove you crazy. He fingered your clit, making you cum around his cock shamelessly fast, hips shaking and cunt gripping him tight.

“Can- oh, fuck,” he asked after a particularly hard clench of your dripping cunt, “-Can you give me one more, my baby?”

Then, he changed positions, laying you by his side, hugging you with one arm and using the other to lift your leg so he could have room to fuck you slow, lazy and nice, pressing your g-spot again and again. He smothered your lips with his tongue and teeth, stealing your moans, as your hands pressed his body into yours. You wanted to melt into him, to leave fingerprints and nail marks all over him. You wanted him to have a permanent indentation of your body pressed to his.

Selfishly, you wanted him to never forget you. To be a part of him in the forever he promised you. Even if you won’t be there.

“Look at me,” he asked, and you opened your eyes to meet his dark molten embers so full of love that it threatened to suffocate you, “you’re the only woman for me. You’re my everything.”

He picked up the pace a little, going harder, until he had you gushing around him, making a mess of your sheets and milking him until he was groaning, hips stuttering into release.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good. Feel so good for me,” he murmured into the dark, “I love you so so much.”

You two hugged back to sleep.

In the morning you showered, brushed your teeth and changed. You stopped in the middle of the room, staring at Lewis’ sleeping form. In the closet you packed a bag, putting clothes and shoes on it, then you grabbed your iPad, laptop and work stuff, then you called a taxi and waited.

You left the divorce agreement on the kitchen island, alongside your wedding band, your lawyer’s contact information and a small note. You were crying as you got into the taxi, leaving behind the future plans you had hoped to live.

It took you a couple of months to get your shit together. You spent Christmas with your family only for the first time in years, and you didn’t travel for New Year’s Eve with Lewis as planned, you didn’t resign from your job, instead opting for a relocation so you could move away.

Finding a new place in Scotland was relatively easy considering you had a good amount of savings because Lewis always paid all the bills, you found a place where you could dedicate yourself to work and to write your book and to heal.

•

Lewis found the house empty that next morning. You had made love to him again, and he thought that maybe you two could salvage the marriage. But as he looked for you around the house, he found the divorce agreement in the kitchen. His stomach dropped as he held your wedding band, and the other hand found your note.

“Seems like I’m a coward too, since I can’t face you to say goodbye. Take this divorce agreement to your lawyer, and any questions you might have, please forward it to my lawyer, she’ll explain everything. I love you, but I don’t trust you. And nothing good can be built in a trustless marriage. The next time you find a good one, don’t break her heart.”

He cried like a baby, going over your divorce agreement that was signed by you. You had given up everything, you didn’t want anything of his, not any cars or property, not any financial support, not even the house that had your name on it too. You voided the prenup, stating that you didn’t want the alimony that came with the cheating clause. Looked like a clean break, like you didn’t want anything that could tie you to Lewis.

He tried calling you and texting you, but seemed like you had blocked him on everything. He went through the motions, meeting with your lawyer who, despite the fame of being tough, was really kind to him. He told your lawyer that he wanted you to take the alimony that came with the cheating clause because it was only fair, and he wouldn’t sign the divorce if you didn’t accept the money.

So after a few weeks, Lewis' lawyer got in contact to tell him you accepted the money, as long as he would sign the divorce as soon as possible. By the New Year, you were officially a divorced couple.

•

You got settled on your new home by the end of the first month of the year, three weeks after the divorce was finalized. You moved to a little north of Edinburgh, not too far from the city, but far enough that you could have some sense of peace and privacy.

You still had a tan line on your ring finger of the left hand.

You only realized your period was late the week later, as you were doing grocery shopping and house supplies, and you noticed you haven’t got your period for a while. Despite being a grown woman, worker and independent, you felt shaky fingers as you took a pharmacy test.

While you waited, you stayed in front of the mirror. You had felt a bit of nausea, but you attributed it to stress and disgust, and you had been feeling tired but you thought it was because of the moving and all the paperwork. You ran your palm over your stomach, trying to feel something, but it felt so normal.

When the time’s up and you leaned over the sink to check the result, you sighed reading the 8 - 10 weeks pregnant.

“That’s ok, baby,” you whispered, teary eyed, “we’re gonna be ok.”

Ending 1: moving on

Ending 2: forgiving

Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton +18 #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #Spotify

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

Master List

Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood. 

“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.  

“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it. 

“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together. 

Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight. 

The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age. 

Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him. 

“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”

“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”

Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again. 

“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair. 

“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun. 

“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up. 

“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”

“You’re nauseous?”

“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back. 

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”

“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene. 

He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly. 

“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself. 

“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression. 

“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers. 

“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”

“I’m coming, Princess!” 

Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water. 

“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”

“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you. 

“You made an appointment?”

“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth. 

“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”

“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”

You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously. 

“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.  

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana. 

“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”

“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”

~~~~~

“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you. 

“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office. 

“Any changes to your medication?”

“Nope.”

“When was your last period?”

“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life. 

“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head. 

“My husband had a vasectomy.”

“But are you still sexually active?”

“Yes.”

“In the last few months?”

“Yes.”

“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”

Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room. 

“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth. 

“Yes, I understand that.”

Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you. 

“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”

“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious. 

“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”

“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”

“Do you use protection with him?”

“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious. 

“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat. 

~~~~~

Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil. 

You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home. 

“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction. 

You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms. 

“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”

Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you. 

“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”

“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm. 

“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously. 

“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today. 

“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”

“Honey, what deal?”

“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”

“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”

“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”

“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”

“Not in the operating room.”

“Were you supposed to be?”

“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up. 

“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake. 

“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”

“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”

Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up. 

“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”

“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband. 

“My urologist?”

“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”

“When? I have a bunch of—”

“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”

You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five. 

But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning. 

~~~~~

Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’ 

Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that. 

Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office. 

A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”

“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly. 

“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”

“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic. 

“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”

“And in this case?”

“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”

“Another one?” Jake asked quietly. 

But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare. 

“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince. 

“Sorry.”

You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake. 

“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle. 

“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”

~~~~~

Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you. 

“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”

“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look. 

“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head. 

“What do you mean by those people?”

“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”

“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”

“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”

Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up.  And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face. 

“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee. 

“Good.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh. 

“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”

“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”

“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”

“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.

“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”

“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow. 

“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”

“I have my ways.”

And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife. 

And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that. 

Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own. 

“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again. 

~~~~~

Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake. 

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along. 

But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo. 

“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.

“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.” 

Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips. 

“Happy Birthday, Jake.”

“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink. 

Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed. 

And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him. 

“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips. 

“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands. 

“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”

“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss. 

And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun: maverick #tgm #tgm fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake x reader #hangman fluff #hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #top gun hangman #hangman top gun

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Idol!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : cheating ; breakup ; regret ; very angsty ; surprise pregnancy ; Word Count : 3.5k Request : it was the winner of the poll, does that count? A/N : Here we go!! Gonna make this one hurt!

You sat on the couch, knee bouncing, phone in your hand, watching as the clock at the top of your lock screen switched to 3 in the morning. Not a single text, not a call, nothing from the man whose selfie adorned your lock screen with his puffy cheeks and his adorable smile that you fell in love with every single time he flashed it at you. You had gotten nothing since he had left for the award show almost 9 hours ago, the award show that you had watched from start to finish, even catching the moment when all of the artists had gotten up to start heading out. He wasn’t there anymore… But he sure as hell wasn’t home. 

Maybe he just went back to the dorms… Was what you had thought at first, just a simple thought to try to ease your mind and keep you from thinking the worst, but if that were the case you were sure that he would have texted you to let you know instead of keeping you up all night waiting for some type of communication. Had something bad happened? No, you would have seen it on the news and you were sure that you would have heard something by now. No… He was just ignoring you… Maybe he was just drunk. 

Either way, you wanted to call him just to be sure, especially since you were tired of waiting around for him. You dialed his number and let it ring, and maybe you should have hung up after the third ring to save yourself the heartache that came once the phone was answered. Not by him though, by someone else… You wished it had been one of the guys, but it wasn’t… It was a girl, one that sounded drunk and flustered and… God, you didn’t even want to think about the sinful noises that were made between each word as you heard your fiance's drunken giggles in the background mixed with his own noises… Noises that you had heard on multiple occasions when you were the one sharing the bed with him. 

“Sorry… wrong number…” You had mumbled, trying to hold back the sobs that were caught in your throat, feeling like they were going to choke you completely. You couldn’t breathe, your vision was a blur, the room felt like it was spinning, but you knew that the nauseous feeling wasn’t from being dizzy… No… it was from knowing that the man that you had planned on spending the rest of your life with, the man that you were willing to devote the rest of your life to was lower than low… And the men that you had trusted to look out for you like brothers look out for their sisters had most likely cheered on that man when he took another woman into his bedroom. 

It was hard to remember when you fell asleep, but you knew that you didn’t do it on purpose considering you woke up on the couch the next morning curled up in the fetal position. Your eyelids felt heavy and the sunlight that poured in through the open window burned your sensitive eyes that had been draining tears like a faucet the night before. “Looks like someone fell asleep while watching the award show. You’re so cute, shnookems.” Jisungs voice sounded out from somewhere close by, although your sleep and tear blurred vision made it hard to focus on where he truly was. 

You would have just thought that the night before was a bad dream, just some awful nightmare that you had since he wasn’t at home next to you, but when he let out that quiet little giggle it brought you back to the phone call and you felt sick all over again. “I hate you…” You said as flatly as possible, wiping the sleep from your eyes to finally focus on him, the way his smile faded to a look of shock at what you had said. “Don’t… Don’t talk to me… I hate you… I’m done with you.” 

Not even a good morning, nothing to start the day so that you could lead into the breakup. You went straight for it, diving headfirst into the conversation. “Wh-What are you talking about? Babe, come on… That’s… That’s not funny. Come on… You must have had a bad dream or something… let’s get you some coffee.” He stammered, pushing himself up off the recliner to walk over to where you were now sitting up on the couch, fresh tears already brewing on your bottom lashes. 

His hands were outstretched, waiting for you to grab them or maybe even take your place between his arms, but you smacked them away, shaking your head as you glared up at him. “You’re shit! You’re a lousy, no good, cheater! And don’t you even try to lie to me and say that you didn’t because I fucking heard you, Jisung!” You shouted, although your voice cracked on multiple occasions. You were devastated, heartbroken, but most of all you were pissed. 

So badly you wanted him to deny it, to tell you that it wasn’t true, but his hesitation and the look of guilt that washed over his features was enough for you to know that it hadn’t been a bad dream, that what you heard was real. “Babe… Let’s just… Can we talk about it?” He whispered, keeping his hands at his sides although you could see in the way that they were twitching that he wanted nothing more than to hold you, although you would have just pushed him away if he tried to. 

“Talk about what? I don’t want to hear lies or excuses. I heard enough last night. I waited up for you after the fucking show, I waited until 3 in the goddamn morning… And I called you… And some… Some other girl answered and I… I fucking heard everything. You disgust me! I want nothing to do with you!” You finally pushed yourself off the couch, trying to move past him, but his arms wrapped around you, trying so hard to keep you from walking away. “Don’t! Don’t touch me!” You screamed, pushing him away from you. 

It seemed so hypocritical for him to be crying right now, especially since you were the one that had been cheated on, but alas, the tears that flowed down your cheeks were perfectly mirrored on his face. “I was drunk! I was drunk and I know that’s not an excuse, but I really… I truly didn’t mean it! I swear to god, I didn’t!” He sobbed, taking tiny steps towards you, but for each small step that he took, you took two more back. “Baby… please… I love you so fucking much… I… I can’t breathe… I just… I need to know that things will be okay. I can… I’m sorry… If you need space, I can do that… Just don’t… Don’t leave me… Please.” 

“How…” You scoffed, shaking your head, laughing in both shock and disbelief at the audacity that he had to even try to plead. “How can you possibly be so fucking selfish? You don’t have the right to tell me not to leave after you cheated on me. I’m done. We’re over. You can…” You pulled the ring from your finger, the ring that you promised that you’d never take off… But that was before all this, before you knew how he really was. “You can have this back, I don’t want it. I don’t want any parts of you. I’m so fucking glad that this happened before I was dumb enough to marry you.” You threw the ring to the floor right at his feet, the diamond facets reflecting the light of the sun. “Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t try to have one of the guys try to get in touch with me either. I don’t want anything to do with you or anything that you do once I walk out that door.” 

“Then don’t walk out…” The words rushed out as he swiped the ring off the floor and ran over to where you were standing. “I’m stupid… I’m so stupid. I don’t want to lose this… I don’t want to lose you. One chance… I just want one chance to prove to you that… That I didn’t mean to do it, I’ll never do it again. It was a mistake!” 

“Would you just stop already?!” You hissed, whipping around on your heel to face him as he followed you into the bedroom. “This is hard enough for me, and I don’t need you hounding me about how sad you are because you fucked up. You don’t deserve a second chance, you don’t deserve anymore chances because you’re a cheater, and once a cheater, always a cheater. So either help me pack my shit up so I can get the fuck away from you, or go sit and wallow in your self pity in the living room while I do it myself.” 

///

“So you’re not gonna say anything about it? You’re not even gonna tell him?” Soobin asked as he sat across from you in the little cafe. He had been your savior since you had left Jisung, allowing you to crash in the dorms at night until it got to the point where he eventually just told you that you might as well live there. He and the rest of the boys rarely ever saw the ones that you were trying to avoid unless they were on music shows, but Jisung was none the wiser that you, Soobin, and the rest of the guys had gotten so close. It made it easy to stay with them and practically hide out in their dorm until you made enough money to get a place of your own. 

“Soob… With all due respect, I haven’t even had the time to process it myself, and the last thing I want to deal with is my ex fiance coming back into my life when it’s been turned upside down once again.” You retorted, running your hands over your face as you let out a loud sigh. “I’ve got so much shit that I have to figure out, and I have less than 4 months to do it. I’m stressed enough as it is… I don’t need him to add onto that.” 

It was crazy, but you were pregnant, and to find out when you were already 5 months along was even crazier. You hadn’t gained any weight that you knew about, and even if you did gain anything, it wasn’t enough for you to think that it was from anything but maybe eating a little bit more than you usually would. You had experienced no symptoms at all, and you were so stressed with life itself that you hadn’t even cared for the fact that you might have missed a few periods, you even accompanied the lateness to the overload of stress. 

It wasn’t until you felt something weird, the movement in your stomach, that you asked Yeonjun to take you to the hospital because you had for some reason assumed that you had somehow gotten worms. “But it would be his kid, right? I mean… Doesn’t he have the right to know? I’m not telling you to do it now… But… I mean… it’s his kid.” Soobin tried to reason with you, and you hated that you had decided to confide in one of the two level headed ones in the group, but he was also easier to talk with and you were closer with him than the others. 

“I’m not going to hide it from him… I’m just not ready to tell him yet. Let me work this out in my own head first and then I’ll drop the bomb on him.” Although you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to tell him. Sure, it was his child, but you also didn’t want to have to deal with sharing custody of this surprise child with your cheating ex. It would be so much easier to just raise the baby yourself and if anyone asked, you could just say that it was someone else’s, although that felt morally wrong… But then again, what Jisung did was morally wrong as well. “I’ve got to figure out housing, I’ve got to tell my boss… It’s a lot… I don’t want to deal with him right now.” 

Soobin nodded, humming understandingly as he reached across the table, placing his hand over top of yours that was drumming nervously against the wooden top. “It is a lot, and that’s why me and the guys are going to help you. You can continue staying at the dorms, even after the baby is born if you don’t find a place soon enough. We will help you.” And maybe it was the hormones that caused it, but the kindness of his words and the softness in his eyes had you uncontrollably weeping in the tiny cafe. “Oh boy… Uhm… Come on… Let’s get you back home.” 

///

Jisung sat in the interview chair, his mind cloudy from lack of sleep. Promotional tours and mini shows had him exhausted, and working on the new album kept him busier than he usually would be. He was thankful for it though, unable to think too much about his mistakes, having no time to think about you and what you might be doing. He missed you, but it was clear from the lack of texts or calls back that you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you had blocked him, and he wouldn’t blame you if you did, but it would be better that way so you wouldn’t have to read the texts that he sent you daily about how sorry he was and how much he loved you. 

“Are you ready to start?” The interviewer asked, and all the guys nodded in unison, all except Jisung who was trying his best to just keep his head from falling forward and dozing off. “Great! So, my first question is for Han…” The sound of his name had his eyes shooting open, pretending that he wasn’t on the verge of passing out right then and there, nodding to let the interviewer know that she could keep going. “So, we’ve all read the headlines and, we’ve come up with our own conclusions regarding some recent events in your life…” The vagueness had Jisung lowering his eyebrows questioningly, waiting for her to get to her point, but a part of him had a sinking feeling on where the question was going. “How do you feel about your ex fiancee being seen out on dates with another idol?” 

Jisung wasn’t very up to date on current news, especially in the world of music considering he had his own headlines to make with the upcoming album. He hadn’t seen anything about you being out on dates with anyone, especially another idol, and he surely hadn’t heard about it in his little circle of other famous friends. He wasn’t even sure if what the interviewer was saying was true, but if it was, his genuine reaction would be heartbroken, but he had to play it off like he wasn’t. “Well, we’ve been apart for… For a while now and… Well, if whoever she’s with is making her happy, who am I to be upset about that. I want nothing but the best for her and whoever she may be with…” He said, trying his best to sound confident, but he was already getting choked up and he felt his eyes glossing over as tears threatened to fall. “Can we take a quick break? I’m sorry.” 

Minho was quick to follow behind the younger man who had rushed into the closest corner as he tried to cry as quietly as possible, which was quite hard, and it felt like all the eyes in the room were on him right now. “Hey… Hey, come on man. Calm down. We don’t even know if it was Y/N that was in whatever pictures that the interviewer was talking about. It could have been anyone, and you know that sometimes interviewers say things to try to get certain reactions out of us. It’s okay…” He tried to pat Jisungs shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, but when the younger man turned around he was an absolute wreck. 

“But what if it is her? I know it’s been months, and I know I fucked up, but I don’t want her with anyone else. I want to be the one to make her happy and take her on dates. I want to be the one that comes home to her at night and cuddles up next to her.” Minho grimaced at the cringy images that were being painted in his mind right now, but he tried to hide it, he was really trying to be there for Jisung even though he knew what had happened, and if asked to take a side, although not in front of Jisung, he would take yours in a heartbeat. “What other idol would do that? I’m so nice to everyone… Who would take her from me like that? Why?” 

Minho shook his head, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out slowly. “I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself. You need to calm down and finish the interview, and then we’ll go home and work things out after we figure out what is going on. Okay?” Minho offered, and in the back of his mind he was hoping that whoever it was in the picture wasn’t you because that would surely only make things worse, and Minho didn’t want to see Jisung worse than what he was right now. 

///

“What are you talking about?” Soobin asked, and you turned the corner of the hall to look at him, about to open your mouth to question what he was talking about or who he was talking to, but he quickly lifted his finger to his lips in a motion for you to stay silent, which you quickly obliged to. “Jisung, she’s not here. I don’t know what pictures you thought you saw, but I really think you’re freaking out for no reason.” He put his phone on speaker so you could listen, and part of you wished that he hadn’t because hearing Jisung put two and two together was making you freak out just as much as he was. 

“I’m not freaking out for no reason!” Jisungs shrill voice screeched through the speakers of Soobins phone. “I know what my fiancee looks like! I’ve had multiple photos taken of her and I like that! I know that’s her! Why are you with her?! You took her from me!” He continued shouting, and you could hear his voice breaking at the end of each sentence and then the heavy shaking breaths as he tried to catch his breath between crying and speaking. 

Soobin shook his head, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Clearly Jisung wasn’t going to back down, and you didn’t want Soobins life to be made harder by Jisungs constant badgering, so just as Soobin was about to speak, you spoke up. “He didn’t take me from you.” You stated matter-of-factly, and Soobins mouth fell open as silence filled Jisungs end of the line. “You cheated on me. You caused this. And you can stop attacking him. It’s not like we’re together, I’m not with anyone right now because I’ve got bigger things to deal with and handle then finding someone else to be in my life.” 

You heard Jisung gasp, and then the shuffle of feet as he seemingly ran off somewhere, maybe somewhere more private, or maybe somewhere where all of the guys were, you weren’t quite sure. “Why… Why are you hiding from me? Why are you ignoring me? I just want to see you… I just… I need to see you. I fucked things up, I get that… But… Maybe we can be friends… I still want you in my life, Y/N…” He whispered, and it made it clear that wherever he went, it was far away from anyone and everyone. “Can we just meet up or something? I can even come over to their dorms if you don’t want to be alone with me… Just… Something, anything… please?” 

You looked around the dorm that was littered with boxes from nursery furniture, a stockpile of diapers, wipes, and baby bottles and powdered formula just so that you’d be ready. There was no way in hell that he’d be able to come over here and see you without figuring out what was going on. “No… I… I don’t want to see you.” You muttered, biting your bottom lip, and for some reason, foolishly waiting for Jisung to understand. 

“Well… I don’t care. I want to see you and… And I’m coming over. I’m coming over to see you dammit.” He said, and before you or Soobin could argue against it, the call had ended, leaving you and Soobin to stare at each other with panicked eyes. This wouldn’t end well… There’s no way it could. 

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[stevesharrlngtons]

.

#sending hugs to all my endometriosis friends tonight ): #my insurance is being difficult and didn’t refill my birth control on time and now I am not only going off my meds cold turkey but am also- #dealing with the full effects of my endo and judt raw dogging it currently and am feeling so sick idk what to do #tmi but I’m bleeding MUCH more than usual #hands and legs are numb I can’t sleep bc I am so nauseous my entire body feels like it’s filled with bile #the woes of being a woman/uterus haver is just awful #I hate this and I love everyone with this illness so much I see you and your pain I promise

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl dixion smut #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fluff #twd season 3 #the walking dead negan

[marvelsmylife]

Second Choice Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: After three months apart from Azriel, you decide to pay Elain a visit in the spring court and make a discovery of your own

A/n I’m putting up a poll on which high lord you want to cause trouble in this relationship. Tamlin or Helion. Vote here

Second Choice Masterlist

You stayed at Rhysand’s cabin for three months and refused to talk to Azriel, no matter how persistent he was. Rhysand had to create wards to keep Azriel from entering the cabin. While Feyre and Nesta thought Rhysand was being extreme with his actions, Cassian, Mor, and Amren thought he made the right call.

It’s a good thing he did that because every day, at the same time, Azriel would show up with a present for you. It would vary from day to day. Some days, it was jewelry, other days it would be flowers and pastries from your favorite bakery. 

A letter would be attached to every present he brought you. He would beg for forgiveness in each letter and promise you were the only one he loved and that he was willing to wait for you, no matter how long it took. 

You would burn all the letters and leave all the presents he gave you outside the cabin before crawling back into your bed cry yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t until one day you decided to travel to the spring court to talk to Elain. You needed to know if anything happened between her and Azriel at the beginning stages of your established relationship.

Rhysand was more than happy to take you to the spring court. He felt like you needed to get away from the night court for a while, and while he despised the spring court, he would travel there for you. “I know you’re still furious with Azriel, and rightfully so, but he really is sorry about everything, and he does love you,” Rhysand commented when you arrived at the spring court.

“I know, but I can’t even think about forgiving him until I hear Elain’s side, and even then, I still have doubts. I mean, does he genuinely love me, or is it only because of the bond,” you replied and looked over at Elain and Lucien’s estate.

Rhysand knew you were right and that you had the right to know the truth. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’m going to pay Tamlin a little visit while I’m here.” Rhysand was gone before you had a chance to respond.

Turning your attention back to the beautiful estate, and noticed a clearly pregnant Elain waddling over to you. “Y/n! It’s so nice to see you again,” Elain had a radiant smile on her face and excitedly hugged you when she finally reached you, “It’s been too long.”

“I know ! !! I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” you smiled back before gesturing to her bump, “How far along are you?”

Elain had a bright smile on her face as she cradled her baby bump, “Seven months. Come, we have so much to catch up on, and Lucien just finished setting up the dining room so we can eat lunch,” Elain looped her arm with yours and started walking towards her house.

After an hour of eating and catching up, you were all seated in their living room and decided to bring up the reason you were there. You explained what you discovered three months ago and wanted to know if she and Azriel were involved while your romance was still new.

“I will be frank, there was a brief moment when I thought about being in a relationship with Azriel, but nothing physical ever happened between us.” Elain turned towards her mate, “And I’m so thankful that nothing happened. Being with Lucien is the best thing to ever happen to me. I didn’t know true love until I accepted the mating bond and fully gave myself to him.”

You envied the way Elain and Lucien looked at each other. Nothing but love and adoration in their eyes. It was so precious it made you sick. Wait, no. You were actually nauseous, “Where is your bathroom? I’m going to be sick,” you asked and shot up from your seat.

Elain quickly ushered you to the nearest bathroom, and you proceeded to throw up for the next several minutes. “I’m so sorry Elain. I don't know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been feeling sick these past few weeks,” you apologized and rinsed your mouth.

“It’s ok. In my first trimester, I was throwing up a lot. Poor Lucien had to hear it every night. Don’t worry, it’ll pass,” Elain tried to comfort you, but you looked over at her wide-eyed, “You do know you’re pregnant, right?”

When you didn’t answer, Elain just hugged you and caused you to start sobbing. Realization hit you that you were pregnant and had to tell Azriel he was going to be a father.

@sidthedollface2 @crazylokonugget @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @isa1b2h3

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

[kaitlynpcallmebeepme]

Sea Sickness

Sea Sickness

Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)

Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.

Requested: Nope. 

Author’s Note:  I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully).  Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.

Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.

@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters 

I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes

I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).

Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  

Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat. 

Word Count: 488

Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play).  Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again.  The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick.  You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder.  He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest. 

“You feeling ok?” 

“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement.  It being really hot out didn’t help either. 

“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.” 

Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements.  Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.  

Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction.  Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two.  Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them.  Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.

“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.”  You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort. 

Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.

#nhl imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #hughes brothers #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #nhl #nhl players #hockey #hockey imagine #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich x reader