#I tagged you honey because I know that you would want to see this

[emilys-bangs]

of broken bones and hearts | e.p

Tags: established relationship, mom!emily, broken bones :(, mild hurt/comfort, a dash of angst, healthy helping of guilt ridden momily because of course she would be, use of petnames, no use of yn

Summary: Eloise breaks a bone. Emily freaks out, you exercise damage control, and the both of you pamper her with affection.

Word count: 2.7k

Work is slow. Slower than usual. No cases, no consults, nothing except brain numbing paperwork. Usually Emily doesn’t mind it—it means being home for dinner, helping settle Eloise into bed and unwinding with you on the couch. But today it grates on her.

She’s staring down at a half filled report for last week’s case, tapping her pen on the dotted lines with an idle restlessness. Her sugar-brimmed coffee is down to dregs. The fluorescent lights make her feel caged.

Her phone vibrates with a call; Emily is answering before the first ring dies out. She automatically knows it’s you—or she hopes it is.

“Hi, babe.” She thumbs the skin between her brows, waits for the sweet relief of your voice to come through.

“Hi. Okay, listen. I’m gonna tell you something, but don’t freak out.” 

Emily stiffens. Her spine goes ramrod straight; immediately, her thoughts flit to Eloise. 

“Is it Eloise?”

“She’s fine.” You insist. “We’re at the hospital. She broke her arm at play time, we just got done with the x-ray and we’re waiting for the doctor.” You say it all in one breath, a long string of words that makes Emily’s mouth go dry. “She wants to talk to you.”

Emily is still blinking at her computer when movement rustles in her ear—the phone being pressed to Eloise’s cheek. A belated tremble rocks her hands.

“Mommy.” Eloise whines quietly. The sound grips Emily’s chest in a vice. She’s still stuck in five seconds ago, before images of her daughter in a cast flooded her mind. She roughly shakes her head, as if she can force them out.

“El, hi.” Her voice is rusty. Emily clears her throat, digs her knuckles into her eye. Stars burst along her vision. “I heard you’re at the hospital. How do you feel, my love?” 

“My hand hurts,” Eloise sniffles. She sounds like a kicked puppy.

Emily’s fingers flex into a sweaty fist. “I know it does, honey. The doctor’s gonna make it all better now, okay? You just…you just have to stay really still for them so they can put a cast on. And then you’ll get to choose a color for it!” She forces fake cheer into her voice. “I bet they have a ton of colors.”

There’s a stretch of silence on the other end. Emily’s thumb forces its way between her teeth.

“Pink?” Her daughter mumbles eventually.

“Pink sounds perfect. Just remember to stay really still while they’re putting it on, okay?”

“Mmn.” 

The dulled tone of her voice makes Emily’s heart clench. Eloise is almost always cheerfully rambling about one thing or the other, her inner monologue spilled out for you and Emily to hear, taking up more space than she does. Hearing her reduced to weak, monosyllabic responses twists at Emily’s gut. She blows out a stuttering breath.

“I love you, Eloise. I’ll see you real soon.”

“’Kay.”

Emily is already standing by the time your voice comes through again. 

“Why did you just call?” She questions, only paying half a mind to the way she bites out the words.

“Because I knew you’d do this and I didn’t want to freak you out—well, more than necessary,” your voice lowers, “—before knowing she’s okay. And she is. She’s in a bit of pain but they gave her Ibuprofen a few minutes ago, it should kick in any minute.”

“A broken bone isn’t fine,” Emily mutters, flipping her report closed and grabbing her purse. She doesn’t meet Reid or Morgan’s gazes as she steps past their desks to Hotch’s office. “I’m on my way.”

“We’re almost done here.” You say. For the first time, she hears the threads of exhaustion in your voice. Emily’s frown deepens.

“I’ll meet you at home, then.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

You resign to it. So does Hotch. Emily tries to ignore the tremble in her hands as she gets in the elevator and presses P.

___

She gets home before you do. When you walk in with a McDonald’s bag in your hand it’s clear why. A pharmacy bag dangles from your wrist, dangerously close to slipping over the heel of your hand as you shut the front door. Eloise is in your arms, slumped and limp; her purple cast hangs listlessly off your shoulder.

Emily distantly clocks the deep violet but doesn’t linger on it, hurrying instead to lighten your load, taking the food and the meds before easing Eloise’s school bag from your grip. You murmur a quiet thanks. Her lips find your cheek, a wordless response, and then she’s stepping behind your shoulder to glance at your daughter.

“She’s pretty out of it,” you whisper. 

You’re not wrong. Eloise’s eyes are closed, lashes threaded together and resting on her cheeks. Mouth pressed into your shoulder, she breathes evenly, not stirring at her mother’s light touch when she reaches over to sweep the mussed bangs over her brows. 

“Poor thing.” Emily sighs quietly. “Let’s get her to bed.” She murmurs. You nod, though the sun still streams in through the windows and paints the house gold. 

It takes more effort than it usually does to settle your daughter into bed. You take careful steps all the way to her room and Emily drowns Eloise’s bed with more pillows than usual; when you finally set her down in it, you gently elevate her arm the way the doctor showed you to. Throughout it all Eloise only stirs when you move the cast. Her whine is muffled, fingers twitching where they peek out from under the plaster. Emily bites down on her thumb to stop herself from grabbing your hand away.

“How did it happen?” She asks when you’re in the kitchen, putting the happy meal in the oven. 

Your brows tick upward. “She was trying to do a cartwheel.”

“Jesus.” Emily groans into her hands. Guilt curdles in her stomach again, making her shudder with nausea. 

She was the one who suggested gymnastics lessons in the first place. Ballet and soccer failed to catch Eloise’s attention; she was too listless in her tutu and too disgruntled at being jostled around in her soccer jersey. Gymnastics seemed like a perfect fit. It’s only been a few months but she’s obsessed with it, constantly twisting and bending on the mat you’d gotten her, all but abandoning her toys in favor of rolling around in the living room. You and Emily had warned her time and time again about practicing without either of your supervision, but the girl is four years old and half Emily.

“It’s my fault,” Emily mutters. She digs her palms deeper into her eyes, sparks flashing in the dark. “God, what was I thinking? She’s fucking four years old—”

“Hey, hey, none of that.” You say, gripping Emily’s wrists and pulling none too gently. The look in your eyes is hardened with determination—a common sight that usually pulls her from the edge whenever she spirals about anything regarding your daughter. “You said it yourself, Em, she’s four. Accidents like this are bound to happen, whether she’s doing gymnastics or not.”

“She wouldn’t have tried to launch herself into the air otherwise,” Emily mutters, unsurprised to feel a dampness on her lashes.

“Wouldn’t she?” You tilt your head. Eloise is nothing short of adventurous, and both you and Emily know that. You squeeze a soft pattern on her wrists, fingers digging lightly into her skin before letting go and doing it again.

“No.” Her mouth pinches as she drops her forehead on your shoulder. “Maybe we should stop sending her to those lessons. They’re making her reckless.”

“They’re making her fearless. That’s not a bad thing, Emily.” Your fingers release her wrists and travel to the base of her neck, finding knots of tension. You start working them. “She’s not scared to try, and she shouldn’t be, just as long as we’re with her. But the point still stands—this could’ve happened for any other reason.”

Emily doesn’t say anything. She resignedly grabs on to your waist and inhales, filling her lungs with your familiar scent—shampoo, perfume, fabric softener. Something else sneaks in, too, spoiling the usual comfort of your fragrance. Emily recognizes it; faint traces of antiseptic. Her stomach turns.

“I know it’s hard for you to believe,” you murmur, now tracing her jaw, nudging her chin up to get her eyes to meet yours, “but not everything’s your fault. Things just happen sometimes.”

Emily responds with a sound deep in her throat, her brows arching wryly.

Your eyes narrow. “Okay,” you announce. “As your spouse, I demand you stop feeling guilty. Since I do know best and all.”

A smile tickles the corners of Emily’s lips. “Well, if my spouse insists,” she drawls, though her stomach is still unsettled from it all. A few years ago she’d have gaped in disbelief at this version of herself, but by now she’s well used to it—though she still doesn’t like it. Emily is perfectly composed, unshakable. Always. Except when it comes to you and Eloise. That has become a hard fact, as sure as the day is long. She’s entirely helpless to stop it.

“I do,” you murmur, pulling her in for a kiss. 

Emily belatedly realizes it’s the first time she’s kissed you since the morning. Her shoulders loosen from the press of your lips, soft against hers, the way you thread your fingers through her hair. Warmth builds in her chest; she wraps an arm around your back to keep you close, humming into your mouth. The world quiets for a moment, her frazzled nerves smothered into something more tame under your touch. Your nails gently scrape against her scalp and her spine warms, muscles unlocking as she lets go of your lower lip and nuzzles her nose into yours.

“Sorry I snapped at you,” she whispers.

“It wasn’t really a snap. More of a nibble,” you shrug, like you’re rolling it off your shoulders.

“Still.” Emily insists.

“It’s okay,” you give her a quick peck before escaping the cage of her arms, “I know how it feels. She’s my kid too, you know.” You make your way to the counter, peering into the grocery bag she’d left there before you came. “You went to the store?”

Emily nods as you pull out two sheets of stickers. “Got her ice cream,” she says, “and those. So she can decorate the cast.”

“Smart.” You hum. “She was pretty torn up about it not being pink.”

“What kind of hospital doesn’t have a pink fucking cast?” Emily scorns.

“A bad one,” you agree mildly. As your eyes scan the—very pink—sticker sheets, a smile starts to curve your lips. “But,” you wave them in the air, “at least you had the foresight.”

“At least.” Emily says dryly.

Silver linings and all that.

___

Emily’s leaning over dinner on the stove when a small voice catches her attention.

“Mommy,” Eloise mumbles, half squished into your shoulder. 

Emily turns to face the both of you, a sad smile spreading on her lips when she sees the cast again. It starts just under Eloise’s right elbow and continues until her little knuckles, leaving only her fingers exposed under the purple. The toddler’s head is cushioned on your shoulder, her eyes drowsy with sleep but fighting to stay open. You’d hoped she’d sleep through the night, but barely two hours after you put her in bed she called out through her ajar bedroom door.

Emily steps away from the stove and into the reach of Eloise’s stretched arm, obliging her daughter and gingerly taking her from you. She’s unsurprised at this show of affection; Eloise—like herself—often demands it, more so when she’s sick or hurt. It’s one thing she’s infinitely glad her daughter inherited from her, even if right now it comes with more work. You help adjust her casted arm across her chest.

“Hi, Eloise.” Emily whispers, a muscle somewhere deep under her skin unlocking at the familiar weight in her arms. She brushes a kiss on her daughter’s sleep-warm cheek. “How’s my brave girl doing? Is your arm still hurting?”

Eloise shakes her head, her brows dipping into a frown identical to yours. “S’okay now,” she says. That doesn’t stop her lips from curving into a pout, her frown growing deeper by the second.

Emily presses her thumb to the wrinkled skin between her brows. “What is it, my love?”

Eloise burrows into Emily’s neck, her free hand curling around the collar of her sweatshirt. She huffs out a warm sigh, deeply grieved. “They didn’t have pink,” she mumbles.

You chew on your lip, clearly attempting to keep the smile at bay. Emily pulls a face at you as she absently smooths between Eloise’s shoulder blades.

“That’s awfully rude of them.” She says softly. Her lips find the warm skin of Eloise’s forehead; Emily presses a kiss there. “What if we put some pink stickers on it? Would that make it better?”

The sound Eloise makes isn’t entirely too pleased, but Emily carefully carries her over to where the stickers are anyway. She grabs a sheet and holds it up, thumbing at the plastic covering. “I got these for you. What do you think, would they look pretty on your cast?”

Eloise frowns at them, unconvinced. She reaches out to touch a sticker, her finger hovering between a slice of strawberry topped cake and a pink ice-cream cone.

“Those are pretty,” you nudge gently, sifting your fingers through Eloise’s bedhead and tucking some of the hair away from her face. “Do you wanna try putting them on?”

Her lips purse into a contemplating pout. Eloise shakes her head, turning to bury her face back into Emily’s neck again. Her frown is practically etched onto Emily’s skin; she can feel it, as sure as she feels the wild hair tickling the underside of her jaw. While this is a lesser pain than hearing her daughter’s distressed voice through the phone, it still throbs dully. Biting back a sigh, she sets the stickers down.

You step in again.

“Are you still hungry, El?”

Suddenly the weight of Eloise’s head lids off of Emily’s shoulder. “Did we get McDonald’s?” She asks, more energy in her voice than Emily’s heard all day. It’s a familiar burst of sunshine, the warmth of it sinking instantly into her skin. She closes her eyes and absently kisses the side of Eloise’s head, thanking all her lucky stars for you.

“We did, honey. Do you want to eat that now?”

Eloise’s frantic nodding makes both you and Emily smile. She comes out of her hiding spot, sufficiently appeased with the shift in conversation. As you heat up the meal, Emily grabs the toy inside and hands it to her daughter. 

“I’m gonna set you down now, honey.” She says. Eloise doesn’t pay her any mind, too preoccupied with the toy in her hand to care. Emily sets her down on the counter and hides a wince at the pull in her shoulder as she grabs the golden, sugar infested cup of apple juice in the greasy bag. You chat to Eloise as the food heats up, pulling her attention away from Emily diluting the juice.

“Can we also watch Star Wars?” She mumbles, fiddling with the toy one-handed. 

No TV while eating is a strict rule of yours. But under the weight of Eloise’s pleading eyes and her vibrant cast, it bends. A soft sigh answers, and Emily stifles a smile as you nod and murmur your assent.

That’s how you end up eating dinner on the couch, two pasta bowls and a happy meal on your respective laps, an army of stuffed animals joining you amongst the cushions to watch Lego Star Wars. Sergio serves as a willing armrest for Eloise’s cast, and that night the whole family wedges into your bed, carefully nestled between you and Emily.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights@professorsapphic

[hotchnersangel]

VON DUTCH

Aaron Hotchner

Girl, so confusing pt2

tags @hotgeniusreid @appledressing <3333333

____________________

The team seemed to understand that you and Aaron needed to talk so they let you be. Aaron placed his hand on your shoulder, looking into your eyes intently. “Hey, I’m so sorry for how she spoke to you- I… she’s never been like that before.”

You notice his frown and smile sympathetically, “Aaron, she is a grown woman she can take responsibility for her own actions. You have no reason to apologise to me, okay?” You say seriously.

“If I had known that’s how she felt about you, I would have spoken to her, I would’ve-“

“Done what? Ended it with her? Aaron, you were in a happy relationship, the relationship between her and I doesn’t matter if you’re happy.” You defend, looking up at him.

“It matters to me. You are and will always be my favourite person.” He pops a small smile at you.

“It’s okay for her to have just admitted that she was jealous of me… but Aaron, is there anything that could have caused that jealousy?” You look at him seriously as the playful banter fell from your tone.

A warm silence cut through the air for what felt like forever. You could hear the distant laughter of the team, muffled by walls of the home. The ticking of the clock grew louder.

“Maybe I speak about you a bit too much…” he smiled softly, barely noticeable but you caught it and he looked at you, shrugging one of his shoulders.

“You know, that is the word on the street.” You chuckle with amusement as he furrows his brows. “You’re obsessing over me, just confess it because it’s kind of obvious.” You smile cheekily at him and he closes his eyes for a moment then smiles brightly at you, pulling you closer by resting his other hand on your other shoulder.

“It is not obvious.” He says matter of factly and you look up to him with a smirk.

“To everyone else it is apparently, I didn’t realise until they said it and well, I agree with them.”

He playfully hits your shoulder, shaking his head as he grins down at you.

“You don’t want to admit that I’m your number one?” You look up at him in a different light suddenly, your eyelashes flutter slightly as you feel yourself wanting to flirt with him.

“My number one?” He smiles, moving his hands to your waist, pulling you closer.

“Your number one.” You bite you lip to stop smiling and he places his hand onto your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone as he stares at your lips.

“I think you’ve always been my number one.” He tilts your chin up and you stare directly into his eyes.

“Damn right I should be.” You say smugly and he rolls his eyes.

“Say it back then.” He sasses playfully.

“And if I don’t?” You tease him.

“You will, honey you haven’t seen this side of me yet but you’ll soon learn that I’m in charge of this.” He speaks but you are stuck goggling at him with heart eyes.

“Remind me why we left this so late…” you trail off and he smirks shaking his head.

“Oh we have plenty of time, I’ve always made time for you but now I don’t have to make excuses to see you anymore.”

“So you are obsessed with me?” You giggle and look deeply at him, your pupils dilated.

He rests his forehead on yours and you stay like that momentarily before you both sigh, looking at the others lips then shaking your head.

“Tonight isn’t the night.” Aaron states the shared thought before you could. You agreed heartily.

“As much as I want to, you’re right. You need to speak to Beth and well, I need to end things with my situation.” You nod at him but grin, throwing your arms round his neck. He hugs you back, tightly, lifting you off of the ground causing you to squeal and laugh uncontrollably.

In the distance, the team high five one another watching the special moment before them. Penelope even snapping a picture.

“So much for jealous bitches and hot best friends.” Emily states and laughs, watching the two of you with a wide smile.

[kittynugg]

hi i wrote some stangst

words: 1,737

p.s: REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!! credit to my pal @empressofsamoyeds (soorry for the tag) for the idea! ALSO DO NOT TAG THIS AS SHIP CONTENT. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU IF YOU SHIP THEM.

Stan stepped out of the shower, shuddering as the cold air hit his skin. Like every other time he showered he was quick to towel himself off and get dressed in the first clothes he could get his hands on. So.. the clothes he’d been wearing for the past month, now? They smelled. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

The mirror was fogged up as he tied up his damp hair, but he could still see just enough of what he was doing to get it done. 

He stared at his blurry reflection. When he reached to wipe the condensation off of the surface he hesitated, his expression somehow going more blank than that numbness he’d been used to for years. That was.. Funny. He kinda looked like Ford with his hair up like that and the mirror all foggy.

No, he really looked like him.

That familiar empty feeling washed over him as he looked into the mirror, his brain filling in the blanks made by the distorted surface. A pair of glasses. A coat. The haunted look of a guy who’d seen things that shouldn’t even be possible in his eyes.

It took him a while to tear his attention away, maybe a couple of minutes, but once he did he rubbed the sting out of his eyes and left the bathroom. His “walk” had become more of a trudge in the past few weeks. He did whatever that was down the hall. Something about almost seeing his face made his feet even heavier, made the decision to get up that morning even more regrettable.

But it also gave him this weird resolve to keep going.

Maybe if he didn’t kill himself he could actually see that face. Alive, safe, maybe even happy. 

He kicked open the door to the office or study he was staying in, announcing in a sitcom-y voice, “honey, I’m home!” Then he put his hands on his hips with a distant grin. “Oh, wait! I don’t have a wife! Or a husband! I’m all alone and nobody fuckin’ loves me because the only person who ever did is god-knows-where!” An unhinged laugh bubbled up in his chest.

“..Anyway,” he flattened after finishing his manic display, then collapsed face-first into the couch he’d been ‘sleeping’ on. Nice couch. Felt like the only thing in the world that actually supported him. “But it’s an inanimate object,” Ford would say, not getting the joke. 

And then he’d say something like.. “You’re an inanimate object, nerd.” Then Ford would tell him that was wrong and that he wasn’t making any sense. Stan would just laugh at him.

Back in the real world, he shifted on the cushions to make himself comfortable. He knew just how bad the idea was. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get up. Right now, he just couldn’t force himself to care. Whenever he was up, he’d be up. Wasn’t like anything was waiting for him. Ford actually wasn’t on the other side of that portal, facing whatever it was that had him terrified enough to speak to him again. 

Everything was fine. Great, even! So great that he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He heaved a muffled sigh into the couch, knowing that if he pulled his face away from it now it’d be stained with tears. Now he was fucking crying.

Pa would tell him to man up and do something about it. When he tried, his arms wouldn’t move to push him up and his legs only shifted into a more comfortable position. The couch was warm. The basement was so, so cold.

Get up.

He tried again. This time he was too lazy to move at all.

Repeating the command didn’t work. Get up.

Just get up. You need to get up so you can work on the portal so you can get Ford back so you won’t have a reason to cry anymore. Come on, this is the first step. The first step is always the hardest. Up up up. Please.

Instead of listening, his body just sighed again. Then he folded his arms under his forehead to put some space between his face and the couch and shut his eyes.

----

Eventually, he found himself blearily waking up with half of his body hanging on the couch and the rest on the floor. The very first thing that caught his eye was the light from the window glinting against Ford’s glasses, abandoned on the table where he could be reminded of why he was still kicking every time he woke up.

He peeled himself off the hardwood floor with a grunt and stood there for a moment as his shitty excuse for a brain sputtered and revved like his car when he tried to start it. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

…

Ford. Right.

A hesitant hand reached toward the glasses, and he turned them in his hand. The lenses were smudged. Ford never let his glasses get smudged. Always crystal clear or it was like he didn’t have them at all, they had to be perfect. He wondered if Ford still carried a spare on him. If he didn’t.. Shit, Stan couldn’t even imagine that. Not just being sucked into whatever nightmare he was so worried about but having to deal with it blind.

The thought of Ford, his brother, of all the people on this Earth (or.. outside of it), going through that made him sick. Maybe he should eat sometime today. Slice of toast might settle his stomach down for a bit. 

He stared down at the spectacles in his hand and shook his head, then wiped them on his shirt. Lifting them up to the window shone enough light through the lenses for him to see that they were still smudged, just.. Spread around. His shirt was dirty.

Typical, he just made it worse. A look was cast around the room, nearly untouched in the month he’d been there.  “Just fuckin’ poetic,” he whispered to himself if only to test if he even had it in him to talk. “It’s just like my life.” His eyes narrowed at the glasses. “..In a way.”

Barely resisting the urge to throw the damn thing, he set the glasses back on the table and looked toward the door. He should get to work.

He picked up the glasses again, leaving the room with the gait of someone wading in cement. 

It was the same autopilot he’d been on for ages that led him back into the bathroom. When he slipped the glasses onto his face, his vision actually cleared a little. Maybe he should look into getting an eye test sometime. 

He put up a finger and spoke in his best Ford impression, “I may be a little bookworm, but I know what I’m talking about!” The sheer accuracy of the voice made him chuckle. He sounded just like him!

When he found himself staring at his reflection again, his other hand reached for the shower. The knob creaked as he turned it to the highest temperature and he watched absently as the mirror fogged up again.

Hair was up. Glasses were on.

They really were twins..

His shoulders drooped, and after a few seconds of careful consideration he spoke up. “Hey, Poindexter.” No, that wasn’t right. Say his name. “..Ford.” 

Another pause. Then he folded his arms behind his back and spoke in that impression again. “Stanley,” he greeted himself under his breath. Something about it, something about hearing Ford’s voice and– and almost seeing his face was..

It hurt.

But it felt good. The kind of hurt that he couldn’t help but reach for, like the burn of alcohol or a cigarette. Speaking of which, he was running out. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later. Not now. He was busy right now.

“I’m, uh..” his fingertips tapped together in a subconscious tic. “Still trying to get you back, Ford.” A smile spread across his face and he gestured behind him with his thumb. “I’ve been reading your textbooks, yanno, it’s actually startin’ to make sense. It’s not as fancy and sophisticated as you had it but it’s something to show for all the work I’ve been puttin’ in..”

Arms made their way behind his back again and he straightened his posture a little. “My idiot brother, learning physics..” A wistful sigh from “Ford”. “And it only took the worst tragedy of your life to finally kickstart it.” His expression softened, and he moved to place his hand on a shoulder that wasn’t there. His fingers twitched. “You know I’m proud of you, right? Not everyone would go through this much effort for.. Anyone, really.”

He needed to hear that. From the real Ford. This was good enough for now.

“I know, yeah.. I just– I hope you’re still out there. If you’re dead, or.. worse, I don’t know what I’d do with myself, Ford. I don’t know what I’d fucking do, and–” he took in a sharp breath, running a hand down the side of his face. His nails dug into the skin. “And I’m really scared to think about it.”

Silence.

His voice cracked when he spoke again. “..I’m scared, Ford.” The glasses over his eyes and the fog fading from the mirror left him with nothing. Nothing. A reminder of just how little he had. That was it.

And Ford offered no response.

Tears dirtied the lenses of the glasses even more, so he took them off and swiped at his eyes. He set them on the rim of the sink. This was stupid. All of this was stupid. Why was he still here? Why was he still holding on?

His legs wobbled underneath him and he just.. sat on the floor and gave in. With a shaky breath, he gave his tears a moment to fall and murmured into his knees, “because you’re my brother.”

It took him a few minutes. Maybe half an hour. But eventually, Stan pushed himself up and retrieved Ford’s glasses. He rinsed them in the sink to clean the dried tears off of them and only stopped when they were spotless. Crystal clear. The way Ford liked them.

Turning to leave, he muttered, “Love you, bro.”

“I love you too, Stanley. I’m sorry for everything.”

..He already forgave him.

(note: might be a part two with ford if im feeling brave)

[matchamiko]

miko your tags …….. i’m gonna start barking i wasn’t even thinking abt predator prey roleplay with furina i was just thinking about bullying her until she squirts …. my head is full of thoughts

I literally just blacked out

I just think she’s so adamant about not being scared, about how she’s sooo brave and sooo independent even when she’s with you. So when you suggest she walk on ahead after your cosy little meal out, that you just need to stop and grab something from the postal offices or was it a bag of coffee beans and a cake? She wasn’t truly listening because all of a sudden she’s alone and it’s glowy and dark but not quite night time and the shadows are hazy and the setting sun still has its gentle warmth.

But she’s alone. And you’re not here. Or are you? Furina is a brave girl, you’ll see, she’ll prove to you that she can walk home all on her own even though she’s beginning to quiver and she thinks someone’s following her but she’s too nervous to look back.

S’probably just someone going in the same direction as her, wearing your same shoes with your same gait. But she can’t be sure. Nerves muffle your footsteps into something unrecognisable, causes sweat to bead on the back of her neck and unleashes something jittery in her tummy. It’s you, it has to be. Who else has a jingly little bell on their belt?

But you wouldn’t chase her like this? Would you? Or stalk? Like she was something meek and ripe and delectable. Maybe you would. You do devour her like a predator most of the time, and sometimes you’re mean about it too. Maybe you’re being mean now. Maybe. Maybe you’re having fun, teasing her, running her into a narrow alley with a dead end which Furina purposefully on accident went down.

She was scared! How was she supposed to know it was the next alley that was the shortcut when she’s close to hyperventilating and suddenly throwing furtive, terrified glances over her shoulder? You’re shrouded in shadow, but your eyes glow with something worrying and hungry. You seem bigger than life, but oh so small in your flitting from shadow to shadow in your advancing upon her.

Furina squeaks. You smile with a wet smack of your lips. She twirls around and kicks over an empty box. You do not stop your measured steps towards her and emit a soothing shushing noise as if trying to calm a frightened, cornered prey.

Perhaps you were, with how she was trembling and searching for a way out. But where her panting was picking up, her bottom lip wobbling and her eyes glistening with tears; her thighs, pale in the dappled dusk light, were squeezing and brushing together, not doubt concealing something shameful. Furina whimpered and backed against the wall,

“Stop it,” she whispered, “you’re being mean,”

“You’ve gotten yourself a bit lost, haven’t you honey?”

Furina tells herself she doesn’t like you calling her that, but she can’t deny the honey slowly sticking to her underwear with the way you size her up like a meal.

“I’m not lost, someone was following me,” she tries to be brave, tries to hold her head up but you’re stopping a few feet from where she’s quivering and staring at her. Through her. Eyes hot and melting her from the inside, as if she’s naked before you and you’re drinking everything without shame.

“Maybe they were, and you thought to get yourself cornered? How silly of you Furina, such a silly, foolish girl,” you chastise, though it doesn’t quite hold the heat and Furina squeezes at the humiliation, eyes closed tight and lip bitten raw. She doesn’t want to look at you, at the way you take in her squirming and rustling and fidgeting.

“It’s almost as if - you wanted to be caught, such an absurd thought, I thought you wanted the independence - I thought you were smarter than that Furina,”

The space between the two of you feels heavy, like jelly, like ice ready to shatter and Furina isn’t sure when you move. But you do. And it’s fast, predatory, a strike when she’s least expecting it. And she’s crying out and jerking against you but you’re solid and eager and hissing into her mouth with your hand shoved down her shorts.

“Do you want to learn your lesson? That you should always do as I say? That everything I do is to keep you safe?” Your fingers are so mean, so so mean and hard and rough but so fucking good between her thighs. There’s a ring on your thumb and it’s cold when you slip against her clit, but your fingers are warm when they bully inside of her and twist and crook and curl and beg against the sweetest, gooiest spots.

“When I tell you to go on ahead and head home, especially while it’s still light enough - what do you do?”

Furina turns her head away from you, eyes fluttering and lips wet from - something. She’s a mess, wound up tighter than usual and she thinks it’s from being so crudely in public, hidden by the shadows and fully clothed. Her nipples are so hard against her brassier, rubbing painful and sensitive when she wishes for the dressing of your mouth. Her heels scrape loudly on the stone, unable to keep herself still and upright, trusting you to bear her weight and shove her into the wall. She shakes her head, unable to remember the question.

“Answer me Furina, be a good girl now,” your other hand fondles her chest, hard and rough but only because of her many layers of clothing. You’re kind here, finding her nipple and tweaking it enough to have her gasping even if the sensation is slightly muted by her sash, and coat, and waistcoat, and shirt, and brassier. She curses. She sobs that she wishes she was naked so she could feel you touching her properly. She weeps your name when you add a third finger and marvel quietly to yourself about how well she’s taking you.

Her cunt is snug, oozy, molten hot and silky soft, accepting your fingers greedily. You grow annoyed for a moment that it isn’t your cock that she’s milking so eagerly, blue and opaque with surprisingly comfortable straps. You’re sure she’d leave creamy rings round the base. You’re sure she’d let you slip a couple of fingers alongside, if she’s so delectably hungry for it.

“Huh - wha -?” Furina is babbling and jolting and half fighting you through your aroused delirium, unaware of how thoroughly you were fucking her into the bare, brick wall. It’s gibberish what she’s half sobbing, mascara tracking down her cheeks and there’s a yelp of your name maybe, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of how wet she is and how she’s clenching and her clit throbs hard as fuck beneath your thumb and - and

She comes loud enough for it to echo down the alley, perhaps through the entire district. A punch of a cry, loud and high pitched, breathless as if she had been running for miles and miles. Warmth floods between her legs but this is different, this is so different to what she’s used to. At the last second, you’d ripped your fingers from her and viciously rubbed her clit somehow even in the confines of her clothes. And there was no stopping the force of her orgasm, coating your hand and leaving her absolutely sodden,

“So not only are you a silly, foolish girl, but you’re a dirty one too? I thought you were a brave, independent woman Furina, look at yourself - you’re a mess,”

Furina can’t answer you, twitching and staring up at the sky with tears still flooding down her cheeks. You’re right, she thinks, she’s a mess. She can feel it running down her legs and staining her socks, she can hear it as you pull your hand from her shorts and wipe it clean on your skirt, she can smell it in the air as she dares to test the strength of her legs. Humiliation fills her from the toes up to her head, tingling and cold, ready to send her into a fit of dry sobs and begs for this never to be mentioned again,

“You know I’m gonna make you do that again right? Fuck - imagine the mess you’d make at home,”

Your voice snaps her down from the heavens, clutching you like a lifeline. Something like a laugh rumbles through you as she throws herself into your arms and hides her face in your neck, cheeks burning and lips pouting. You stroke her back,

“Nearly got there Furina, a few more steps and you would’ve made it home all on your own, and you let me explore a little of something I like as well, thank you,”

Furina doesn’t dare look at you but emits a funny noise of confusion, allowing you to guide her from the wall as you begin your short walk home. Just before you reach the street, you pause and take her cheeks with your forefinger and thumb, forcing her to look at you with her lips plump and wet,

“You’re cute when you’re frightened, can’t help chasing you, scaring you a little, makes me feel good,”

Furina goes to speak, in defence or argument or to make some excuse; but you kiss her quiet. A chaste thing, lingering, soft and promising before leading her across the street to your apartments. You look back as you usher her over the threshold and stifle a grin at the little damp drops that had followed her from the alley, a stain upon the street and forever ingrained in your memory.

[themareverine]

You get arrested.

Oohh boy. Tagged by @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 — let’s see how this goes, yeah?

What did you do? gonna lean into my self insert self here, Mare—what doesn’t she do? at one point in my lore I definitely know she gets hit by military police because she later becomes a literal Weapon X program escapee, so—we’ll go with that. Yeah. I escaped experimentation. Yay for me.

Who do you want to be arrested by? ?! excuse me? Is this the only option? Ahem. Well. If I get my choice.

✨Technically✨ he’s a private eye, but I’m going with it. My beloved Nick Bannister. Hi, baby. I’ll come willingly, please read me my rights nice and slow.

Martin Riggs & Roger Murtaugh. Enough said—Riggs would be crazy enough to let me go, Murtaugh would be thankful I’m leaving.

Detective Eric Ringer. There’s technically no gif of him I can find, but—need I say more? You found me, Eric honey.

tagging: @lubdubology @1800-fight-me @bpmiranda @itsgoghtime and anyone else! @briseroyawritingsblog @logansbaby @sidkneeeee

You get arrested.

What did you do?

And who do you want to get arrested by? Pick three people (they need to be normal police, FBI, CIA)

What is it that I did?

I robbed a supermarket of all its sweet potatoes and I'm on the run with them. Because they're my favourite food.

Who's coming to arrest me and read me my rights? 😌😏

These lovely people:

No pressure tags: @ghost-of-morrowbright @small-carbon-lifeform @inkdusth @gauntletgirlie @partfae @sailon-ishmael @celebrimborsapron @marshmellin @morganas-pendragons

[tteokdoroki]

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #10. babies, lots of ‘em.

about. the all star jock has an intense breeding kink that leads him to confess the plans he has for he and his weird girlfriend’s future. ( 2.5K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, angst if you squint, characters aged up to 20s, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum play, praise, jock bf!yuuji, weird girl + fem!reader - the brain rot continues !! inspired by @kweenkatsuki-fics recent yuuji thirsting hehe <3

“‘mma give you babies… lots of ‘em,” yuuji slurs, his hips ramming into yours at a bruising, unprecedented pace. 

beneath your shaky fingertips, the muscles of your boyfriend’s back ripple with his movements — his strength as he uses the headboard for leverage to fuck into your sloppy, sweltering heat of your sex. you’re flat on your back, his heavy and weighty body hanging over yours protectively while itadori traps you between the blazing heat in his chest and the sweaty bed sheets below. whenever yuuji gets in the mood like this, possessive and hungry for you ( and nobody else but you ), in the mood to keep you all to himself — you can’t help but succumb to each one of his touches and wet kisses. 

you can’t help the way your body trembles in the cage of his muscular arms while his abs ripple against your tummy and his pelvis tacks deliciously to your swollen clit. the bed creaks beneath the sloppy affair of your grinding bodies and somehow, within the mess of sex and love, your freehands link and squeeze to ground one another. “the way you’re suckin’ me in, god, honey,” yuuji coos, his words tickle the shell of your ear delicately, contrasting with the carnivorous way his deep brown eyes drink you in when he pulls back slightly to look at you, silver chain and dog tags dangling above your hot face, as if he’s picturing you nice and full of him and his seed. “so selfish, you don’t wanna let me pull out. you want this cum…yeah?” 

in that moment, you think you might cum, all because of the breathy whimpers from your lover that ghost over your dampened cupid’s bow ( wet from kisses ) — accompanied by the sensation of his hard-on bullying its way into your tight, quivering little hole. there’s a keen smile that spreads across yuuji’s plush lips when you nod your head ‘yes’ in response, you feel his excitement and desire for you deepen when the entire length of him twitches inside of you — pulsating as small spurts of precum begin to line your lewdly squelching walls.

“i knew you would, you’re such a good girl…and you’re all mine, how lucky am i? that you’re all. fucking. mine.” for a boy so sweet and gentlemanly outside of the bedroom, itadori is always sure to fuck you nasty and raw whilst making you feel like the most adored person on the planet. yuuji’s sailor-mouth-like praises are slurred and sinful, a tale tale sign that he’s already pussy drunk as he sheaths inch after inch within you. you can hardly blame him, not when your body adjusts to yuuji so perfectly — silken pussy stretching over the blue spiralling veins on his heavy cock. “mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to breed.” he tells you through seraphic gripes too.

“ohmygod!” you squeal, voice ringing hoarsely in your throat. your cunt spills honey molasses and sweet nectar against your ravaged sexes, juices intertwining with the small pink tufts of yuuji’s happy trail as his bright red tip bears down harshly on your gummy g-spot — providing him with the lube he needs to make love to you properly. “baby…i c-can’t!” 

just as you moan out again, legs squeezing around your boyfriend’s slender waist — yuuji’s blushing face ducks into your neck, making quick work of marking up your skin…because if he looks at your face, the way your brows crease softly and your lips part in a gentle ‘o’, and sees the way it twists with mounting pleasure. he won’t be able to hold off for much longer, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard for either of you to cope. he knows that you can take it, manage to take all of his seed and all of his love — but if yuuji snaps, he’ll be pounding into you until he’s shooting blanks. 

with your hands traversing upwards into yuuji’s sea of pink curls and over his smooth undercut, he reacts with his golden eyes rolling back into the dark depths of his skull — temporarily locking away your sunlight that brings warmth to your dorm. a familiar heat prickles underneath the surface of your skin like a thousand tiny needles as you pant out your words, pleading with bambi as you look up at yuuji. “i want your cum, yuuji, i want you to…hah… fill me up ‘n get me pregnant…” there’s a feeling painfully seated above your abdomen, a burning sensation of mounting pleasure like a wound desperate to be licked and soothed by itadori.

by grinding up against him, sticky clit smearing over his tense stomach and golden abs, you think that you might garner some relief — but you only feel teased and taunted when the jock pulls his cock from the snugness of your tight head to slap his milky cockhead against your pulsing mound proudly.

“don’t say it like that, fuck, baby,” yuuji all but groans, lashes fluttering at the slick sound your cunt makes with each love tap. beads of his precum ooze over you in another form of claim, glazing you in yuuji’s scent and taste. some of it even drips from your abused hole as it clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled by all that your boyfriend has to offer. “there’s so much… s’leaking out of you. gonna have to keep you on my dick always, give you all my babies.” the rose haired man can’t even hear himself speak, not over the sound of blood rushing through his ears — carrying sex crazed hormones. certainly not over your sweet sighs that form a melody with the pap, pap, pap of your pussy as he slowly sinks back into you — building up a steady rhythm to his thrusts, like an ocean’s regular tide.

yuuji can’t stop rambling, saying whatever lustful thought sits at the forefront of his mind. having you splayed out beneath him like this, your nipples pert against his firm chest and your breasts bouncing with every forceful lunge of his hips forward — it drives him up a wall. “gonna look so pretty ‘n round when you’re full of me. i’ll put a ring on it, make you my pretty wife — holy fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?” the thick vein on the underside of his shaft presses deliciously up against pleasure spots that only yuuji knows about, never leaving you unsatisfied, not even for a moment as his body rocks passionately into yours.

tanned skin and hard muscle feel slippery underneath your trembling hands. you don’t know what to hold onto, don’t know how to ground yourself when you feel this good and yuuji’s cock skilfully dives into your sopping heat — promises of the future, a wedding and family hand in the humid air buzzing between you both but is best said by the way itadori’s body dsnces with your own, his arousal soaked signature lining your rippling walls.   

“need that so bad, yuuji! need you so bad… please fill me up, i want it inside.” you hiccup and demand, hardly able to speak through it all. the bed moans and groans just like you do, every time itadori’s dick pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy hole — coated in a layer of foamy white. using your elbows as leverage, you work your hips down to meet yuuji in a slick and sensual dance, clenching at every inch of him that assails your insides until delight crackles over your hazy brain.  

“god, baby please…if you keep talking like that i’m gonna—“ yuuji whines from deep within his chest, the sound resonating through you and shooting straight down to your creamy cunt that clamps down on him, pulling little droplets of precum from his sensitive tip. 

your next words have the jock pounding into you with new vigour, desperate to give you everything that you want. “d-don’t pull out, yuuji. inside.” 

“ahh, okay,” he whimpers as his voice rises in pitch, brown eyes stinging with tears. his golden arms flex as they lift you by the apex of your thighs — dragging you back onto his cock and it’s unforgiving pace. itadori presses his forehead to yours, caramel eyes shining with tears that gleam in the afternoon sunlight breaking through the curtains of your dorm.  “okay, okay fuck. okay, oh god — h-honey, i’m…fuck! i-im cumming!” he stumbles over his every word, the pink haired jock’s entire world shattering into smaller glass fragments as he finally hits his peak. thick waves of white flood your womb, hot and viscous and lighting you up from the inside out. it coats your swollen pussy lips in an opaque layer that smears along your inner thighs, pouring endlessly from yuuji’s fat cock and breeder’s balls.

effectively breeding you. 

still humping at you relentlessly and not daring to leave you far behind, yuuji tacks two of his fingers to your clit and caresses it in smooth circles, searing his name into you forever. he never lets up, fucking his cum into your womb with languid thrusts — bulbous and mushroomed cockhead spurting his hot seet against your g-spot as it grazes the epicentre of your pleasure over and over again. yuuji holds you in his arms while your vision clears, replaced by only blinding flashes of white and accompanied by an empty scream rattling around in your throat. your arousal spurts out of you in generous and clear streams, nearly forcing yuuji’s cock from your tight, rippling walls — painting both you and him in your juices. 

your boyfriend can barely hold himself above you as you both finally come down, flopping onto you and trapping you against the sex soiled matress for cuddles. 

“we can’t have babies, yuuji,” you laugh happily, letting out a puff of air from deep within your chest once you’re finally able to catch your breath. “not right now, we’re too young and we’re still in college!”

“well duh, not right now…” he muses, kissing your jaw and your neck and every part of you that he’s marked up and bruised. “but like afterwards…yanno? a few years down the line when we both have jobs. i’m gonna be pro and you’ll be a sexy career woman. ‘n i’ll make so much money that you can take all the time off you want. make sure you’re nice and taken care of and—“ 

giggling, the sweet melodies of your laughter cut through your boyfriend’s wistful rambling. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“it’s just…you’ve really got this all planned out, huh?” you reach a hand up to cup itadori’s sweaty cheek, brushing a thumb over the rough scarring at the corner of his mouth. he leans into you, much like a cat seeking physical touch, and you scratch just under his chin. “you want to be with me for that long?” 

“i mean…yeah. i want you for the rest of my life. i thought that was obvious,” yuuji manages to say while you squish his cheeks and play about with his face, sounding a little dejected. “don’t you? … don’t you want that with me?” 

your smile drops as you shift to your elbows, immediately dead set on reassuring your usually confident boyfriend. “of course i want that with gou. i want everything with you, it’s just that…” you chew on your words, push them around the cavern of your mouth as it dries with nervousness. “it’s just that… i’m still so different to you, i’m still not…conventional by any means. so i just thought… by the time college was over you’d—“ 

“i’d get bored of you?” 

yuuji looks almost offended, his pink and kiss-swollen lips pushed forward into a pout and his dark brows drawn together in the centre of his forehead. falling back onto the sheets, one of his hands sink into the pillow supporting your head as you lay flat on your back — you feel it tremble with an emotion you can’t quite place on his face. is it anger? hurt? annoyance? either way, your heart hammers in your chest and crawls it’s way up your throat. you feel nauseous at the prospect of even upsetting yuuji — especially after the loving sex you’ve just had. 

a croak in your throat replaces your sweet voice, you’re not sure if it’s because of how you’d been previously screaming your boyfriend’s name or because of how nervous you’ve suddenly become. “y-yeah,” you say slowly. “that.” 

“how could you even think that?” yuuji breathes steadily, the corner of his mouth twitching into a frown but you can’t bare to look at him any longer — casting your gaze to the side. 

shaking your head, you blink back tears you hadn’t even known were there. “i don’t… i don’t know. forget it, pretend i never said anything.” 

itadori bends at the neck to reach you,  tutting into the air as it cools down and loses its feverish taste for lust. his nose bumps yours, the pair of them becoming neighbours while his breath coasts across your face almost comfortingly. 

“when i say i want you, i mean it. forever,”  he confesses, like a reflex, like the natural reflex that his brain has to make his heart beat. “i want you to be my wife after all this. you’re not just some college fling to me. i want to buy you a house, a big ring, keep you comfortable for the rest of my life. i decided on that when i first met you,” a calloused finger and thumb tilt your chin to the perfect angle, making you look at him, your gaze falling into a mahogany one belonging only to your doting partner. “i don't care how long it takes to prove this to you… but you’re the love of my life, so have a little faith in me. okay?”

yuuji takes your hand in his, placing your palm on the left side of his chest where the muscle keeping him alive races for you. the only girl in the room. the only girl in his worlds. his dog tags jingle at the movement but his eyes on you remain unwavering and so full of commitment. you’d be stupid not to believe him now.

“okay,” you affirm sweetly, tilting your head a little further in a silent ask. you want a kiss. “i love you, yuuji.” 

“and i love you right back,” he mumbles against your lips without skipping a beat, slotting your mouths together perfectly in a gentle chaste kiss. “now baby, please stop asking me to cum inside, you know i can’t help it and we can’t have babies just yet,” yuuji whines and collapses on top of you with a huff. 

“you’re the one who said you wanted to give me babies!” 

“and you’re the one who keeps feeding into my breeding kink, let’s not get it twisted here!”

and all throughout your playful bickering, yuuji stays nestled deep inside of you — keeping you plugged full. of both his cum and his love.  

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Play Pretend | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader

Summary: He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever? Miscommunication.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2024 but some events switched around 

I'm trying to make all of these different to each other so I'm sorry that this one was less baby fever and more baby mention.

Main Masterlist

next.

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and others 

YourUserName the cause of stress v. the support systems   tagged: charles_leclerc, YourBestFriend

6,883 comments

User1 i love how all her captions ft her degree are legal themed 

charles_leclerc ❤️💛

charles_leclerc mon ange, what are you doing in that second photo

→ YourUserName it’s probably best you don’t know, char

→ YourBestFriend cocktails were involved

→ charles_leclerc this is why i don’t like leaving her with you 

→ YourBestFriend cry me a river, vroom vroom boy 

lilymhe i still think i would be a better support system than charles

→ YourUserName and i fully agree. let’s run away together

→ alex_albon whoa, whoa, whoa. get your own girlfriend

→ charles_leclerc she already has her own girlfriend! 

→ charles_leclerc wait, no

→ User2 the prettiest girlfriend

User3 i swear charles and y/n are the cutest f1 couple

→ User4 they always look so infatuated with each other 

→ User5 umm, how? she's literally never at races 

→ User6 because she’s off being successful in her own way, and charles supports that? plus, she’s always snapped in ferrari merch on race days whether she’s there or not

→ User7 omg yes! when a classmate took a pic of her leaving a final in bright red, and she was easily the most spottable person in that hall 

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo  tagged: YourUserName

12,298 comments

YourUserName my two favourite boys ❤️

User8 did you see in the background of one of the pics, they have his “birth certificate” framed and it says leo leclerc-y/l/n. he truly is their child

roscoelovescoco can’t wait’s to see’s a new’s friend in’s the paddock’s 

→ User9 roscoe-leo play date when please

→ User10 not until 2025 😂

User11 but let’s all take a moment to appreciate how cool leo’s parents are. he has an f1 racer for a dad, and a fashionable law student for a mum

→ User12 haha his parents are lightning mcqueen and elle woods 

pierregasly thanks mate. now kika is going to want one

→ YourUserName and you should give her one. i need a mum friend 

User13 first they adopt ollie and now leo. who’s next

→ YourUserName oscar

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User1 the interviewer was asking about future races and charles wasted no time in bringing up his girlfriend. he’s so down bad 

User2 the way his face lights up when he talks about her. he really does love her. 

User3 oh Charles, honey, that’s not giving what you think it is 

User4 any other woman slightly uncomfortable with the way this was worded?

→ User5 lets all take a moment to remember that english isn’t his first language. he obviously meant well, and the love in his eyes shows that he’s excited about a life with y/n, it just wasn’t worded in the best way 

User6 the interviewer was so skeezy for that last comment though

User7 i feel so bad for y/n. she’s always so supportive of charles' races, even when she’s not there, and charles is talking about how he can't wait for her to be done with her degree so she can follow him around the world 

→ User8 i don’t think he meant it that way. he looked horrified when the interviewer interpreted it that way but the interview ended before he could clarify further 

User9 do we think mom and dad are fighting after his *slightly* misogynistic comments about making her a kept woman

→ User10 i really hope not but my heart says yes because he basically said he’ll turn her into a travel wife who only cares about his career but said nothing about her career that she’s working really hard on

User11 i didn’t realise how much i depended on y/n’s post race posts until i didn’t get one

→ User12 she always posts the most panty-dropping post race charles pics 

User13 i miss them already 

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User1 oh god, it’s official

User2 brb just gonna go cry my eyes out for an hour 

User3 literally half of her insta posts have disappeared because they were all charles 

→ User4 the only thing keeping me sane is that any post where he wasn’t the main focus but slightly in them have been kept 

User5 can someone check on ollie? see how he’s coping as a child of divorce 

liked by OllieBearman

User6 yes, yes. this is all very sad but now that i’m done crying, can we talk about what is going to happen with leo? is this going to be a shared custody agreement?

→ User7 how could i forget about leo. do you think they’ll see each other at child drop off or make arthur be the middle man?

User8 i can't believe they just got a puppy together and now they’re going to be co-parenting instead :( 

User9 maybe this is just a minor speed bump in the road to their everlasting happiness? (yes, i’m hoping that they’re simply taking a small break)

→ User10 may all your delulus come trululu

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lilymhe, arthur_leclerc and others 

YourUserName the verdict is unanimous… I’m stressing

3,880 comments

YourBestFriend this barbies practices law

→ YourBestFriend not long left, babe. just a couple of exams and we’re qualified adults

→ YourUserName i don’t think we should ever be classed as qualified adults lol 

→ YourMum i still can't get over the fact that you two used to play pretend lawyers as little girls and now you're actually going to be one

lilymhe good luck, y/n. you’re gonna smash these! 

→ YourUserName if not, fancy running me over with your golf cart? 

arthur_leclerc good luck, y/n/n. try not to drink too much caffeine 

→ YourUserName i’m not that bad! 

→ arthur_leclerc you cannot lie to me. i have had to listen to you after three red bulls

→ landonorris betrayal! 

User1 she’s so real for that last slide tho. like miss y/l/n you are gorgeous and we’re glad you know it

YourClassmate how do you look so nice despite being in the library until 2am?

→ User2 dude, no. that line is not going to pull the stunning y/n y/l/n

→ User3 literally, the love of her life is charles leclerc and this guy thinks he’s going to win her over with a bad line 

User4 guys, is anyone else missing the sweet comments charles would always leave 

→ User5 he would be agreeing with the last slide and telling her how beautiful and smart she is 

→ User6 how about we don’t remind her of her ex-boyfriend the day before her life-changing exams

carlossainz55 good luck🤞🏼

→ User7 not sainz being messy on main

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc there is nothing like racing in italy for ferrari. i wish we had a better result, but that was the maximum today. we’ll try again next week. 

8,449 comments

User9 did you see his interview of him on his way out of the paddock? man was in a rush with poor leo tucked under his arm

→ User10 it’s y/n’s week with leo so charles was running out there because it was time to go see his favourite girl 

→ User11 he was not wasting a minute to see the love of his life 

User12 charles racing faster to go see his ex-girlfriend who he’s wildly obsessed with than he did all weekend 

→ User13 bestie you better pray he doesn’t see this 

→ User14 why? ‘cause he’ll have to fight the urge to like it 

User15 i’m so happy that it’s y/n’s week with leo because we’re going to get the most adorable puppy pics on her story all week

→ User16 also it means that his parents will be conversing 

User17 i love that we’re all depending on leo to get f1’s favourite couple back together 

Baby Fever Angst Series

(This wasn’t due out until tomorrow but I’ve released it earlier in honour of THE MONACO WIN BABY!!!!!!) 🥳🍾🥳🍾

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @elijahslover @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @brsr @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish

[coquettepascal]

frosted kisses

pt. ii to texas sweet

summary: after some serious distance, a nightmarish evening at the miller household leaves you and joel closer than before.

tags: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, fingering, pulling out, missionary, almost oral, joel is a consent king, gentle!joel, soft!joel, proud dad joel returns, tommy is here, so are sarah and ellie, don't ask how old they are i really can't tell you, tension, sexual tension, kind of angst(?), realistic sex, reader is in a panic as usual, but joel is really sweet, kissing, neck kisses, biting, scratching, mention of joel's dad gut (yum), joel in a wifepleaser, use of darlin' and baby and honey, one use of good girl, praise kink (a little), takes place during july (texas sweet was in june)

a/n: thank you to my biggest cheerleaders @mochamadeleines and @pascalssbabyy <3 also thank you to everyone for being so patient for this sequel. i hope you all enjoy !! :]

texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

wc: 7.6k (sorry :3)

It is way too hot outside to be doing anything but laying in an ice bath, yet here you are leaving at 9am for your shift. The walk to the bus stop isn’t bad, but it does mean you have to walk by Joel’s house.

Joel.

He never followed through on that promise of taking you out for dinner, but it’s only been a month since that night. The two of you had been friendly in passing, since it’s hard to avoid one another, but you can see the avoidance in his eyes. A little while ago you looked up when “neighbours day” was, remembering how he said to let him know. But, it turns out that’s all the way in May, and it’s currently July… So. 

So you’ve been avoiding each other a little. That’s fine, it was a weird situation for the two of you to find yourselves in. You stared at Joel’s grey-blue truck when it rolled back down the street that night, the headlights flashing yellow on your walls. The hand resting on your chin still smelled like him, like his dick. 

Honestly, everything on you smelled like him for a little while, your shirt especially, but also your skin. Joel wouldn’t leave you alone, even though he physically was. Watching him from your window started to become an obsession, seeing the sweat soak through his t-shirt when he’d mow the lawn on the weekends. You couldn’t stop watching him, remembering how needy he was.

Your achy need for him was a constant at night, only competing for dominance over your mind by wondering how needy Joel was.

Nothing could drive the memory of his whimpers and groans out of your mind, the throb of his cock in your hand, and the way his hands twitched and grasped at nothing when he came. It would attack you at random times throughout the day, especially when you were on the bus coming home from work. Most of your days are boring, repetitive. The same texts from your mom, the same job, the same… everything. Joel was the most exciting thing for you, but that was short lived. It was just one evening.

It’s kind of fucked up how you just have to move on, sweaty palmed every morning as you pass by Joel’s house. It isn’t even like he’s home when you walk by, he starts work at around 8am. You would know because Tommy’s truck is noisy as all hell, it works great as a last minute alarm. 

Or at least he isn’t usually home. 

“Mornin’ darlin,” calls Joel as you step off your porch. 

His voice is just as warm and sweet as ever, like the sun today if it were kinder, but there’s an extra cheerful lilt in it. Turning your head, you see Joel still in his pajamas. It’s a weekday, so that’s odd, but what’s more odd is that he’s hanging balloons outside. 

A light grey wife pleaser stretches around his torso, showing off his thick arms and shoulders. This is not something you’ve seen Joel wear before, but he must have slept in it if the plaid pajama pants are anything to go by. 

It’s the polite thing to do to go over there and say hello, right? That’s what your mom would want you to do, to be neighborly. You’re not going over there to check him out. That would be crazy.

Crossing the grass from your house to his is easy, but spit is all caught in your throat by the time you get over to him. Jesus, are you drooling? 

“Hi Joel,” you manage to reply to his greeting as he tapes another balloon up to the overhang of his garage, “what are the balloons for?”

He grunts as he twists to fix the tape, the balloon nearly falling on his head. The way he’s stretching up is making the wife pleaser stretch up, exposing the skin of his waist. Your fingers twitch, wanting to touch there again. It makes your mind spin, thinking about how your hands have been there, that he knows what it’s like to have you on him. An explicit secret that neither of you share. You wish he was facing the other way so you could see his tummy, the plushness of it was so comfy against your arm.

“S’for Sarah,” he finally responds, turning to face you. 

And oh… oh that’s why he’s so damn happy. He had talked about it in passing a few times during the small talk you had made. Sarah’s birthday was in July and she planned on coming home for it, Joel was so bright everytime he talked about it. His smile is so much bigger when he talks about his daughters.

“Is she coming home today?” You ask, shifting on your feet. Joel nods, tearing off another piece of tape with his teeth.

“Uh-huh, pickin’ her up around noon. We’re doin’ a dinner tonight,” he says. You can see how his eyes are a little unfocused, excited. He sticks the tape to the knot of the balloon and starts to continue his sentence, but is cut off by the front door opening.

The sound catches your attention, your eyes flicking to the door. You didn’t see his truck in the driveway, but there’s Tommy Miller in all his glory.

You won’t lie to yourself, the Miller family clearly has good genetics. Tommy’s got these gorgeous waves in his black hair, and a charming smile too. But, he isn’t nearly as soft as Joel is. Not a player, but Joel’s been worn in by 2 daughters and a divorce, like a well loved plushie. Tommy hasn’t been worn in by anything, in fact he’s known for wearing things out. As much as you’ve heard the whispers at neighborhood events, the other Miller brother has never interested you. Tommy, of course, has shown interest in you once or twice. A few bottles in and he’ll talk to anything.

Today though, Tommy is behaving. He flashes you a kind smile, and nods.

“Hey neighbor-girl,” he greets.

You almost snort. You know Tommy knows your name, but he’s being weird. Did Joel tell him? Probably not. Do brothers share that sort of information? You’re getting sweaty again–

“Saw the flowers y’bought Ole Joel,” Tommy grins, “thought maybe his ex’d dropped by.”

Oh. Oh thank god. Thank god the flowers gave it away.

Joel snorts and then scowls at Tommy, shaking his head. He mutters something about you “having a name,” and suddenly all you can hear is the blood in your veins. A hot rush flies over you, but you’re flushed from the sun anyways. What difference will a blush make? It’s not that obvious. 

Distracted with your anxiety around the two, you barely realize that Tommy is scolding Joel now.

“S’nice girl gave you flowers and y’ain’t even invited her to the dinner tonight?” Tommy scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. Your eyes flash to his arms and Jesus does being brothers mean you’re both built as fuck? 

“Tommy,” Joel says, voice tight, “I was midway through a conversation with’er. Was just about to.”

They exchange a look you can’t really decipher. Tommy raises his eyebrows and Joel curls his lip in response. Then, Tommy turns on his heel and goes back in the house.

The heat outside is already uncomfortable, but now you feel awkward. You didn’t realize that Joel would invite you to something. Maybe he didn’t even want to, he just didn’t want to look like an asshat in front of Tommy. Joel looks sheepish in his pajamas, downturned frown neutralizing to a softer smile. He breathes in to speak, but now you don’t want his invite.

“Joel,” you say quietly, “you don’t have to invite me. I’d hate to intrude on your family time with Sarah.” 

You really thought that you’d want to speak to Joel after all this time, but this feels humiliating. A pity invite to his daughter’s birthday dinner? It’s not what you expected, or wanted. As much as you’d like to see Sarah, something about it feels wrong. What would you say?

“Hey, it's been awhile. How’s college been? Good! Aw, I’m glad. Yeah last time I saw your dad I jerked him off. Oh, you’re in STEM?”

No, that’s not what you want. He looks like he’s going to protest, but you have to shut him down. You’ve never really spoken to his other daughter, Ellie. It feels like a nightmare waiting to happen.

“I’m just your neighbor,” you wave your hand, as if you could make this go away.

Joel’s brows furrow, his mustache curling back downwards with his frown. Skittishly, his eyes flick away.

“I… I’d like it if y’came. Even if we’re just neighbors,” Joel says. He seems embarrassed about inviting you, a red hue glowing beneath the sweat on his neck. 

Alone, in front of the garage, it feels like he’s under you again. Why is he so shy? So bashful? Something in you is frustrated. You’ve been waiting for a month for any scraps, anything more than neighborly chit-chat, and now you have to turn him down. Doesn’t he realize you’ve been waiting for him? 

You don’t want to be just neighbors with this Joel, you want more. You want to know him more than just as “hot-single-dad-next-door.”

You want to know him the way you did when you were behind him on the couch.

But… Maybe this is Joel. You saw the pictures all over his house, and he runs a company with his brother. Family is clearly everything to him, and even if this isn’t a dinner-date like he promised, this is something more. It’s closer for him, this is his own version of pulling you in.

Besides, your mom would want you to say yes. It’s polite, right?

You concede to Joel’s wishes, as much as you want something else. He smiles really big when you agree, a shy “okay” leaving you. It’s not like you could ignore him anyways, not with the way his wife pleaser is stretched around him so… pleasingly.

He tells you that there’s a colour theme of black and blue, since Sarah wants everyone to match in the pictures. Joel starts to blab about what a good photographer she is, but you actually shut him down this time, so as to not miss your bus.

—

Somehow, standing on Joel’s porch is a lot worse than last time. You don’t have a bunch of flowers for your neighborly crush, or a set of hands to ease his back. All you have is the guilt in your gut for showing up at his daughter’s birthday dinner. 

It took you almost 45 minutes to pick an outfit. He mentioned blue and black, but didn’t mention what shade of blue. Everything you had felt either too dressy, or was literally pajamas. Eventually you found something that worked, but now you’re in your own head. Will Joel think this is nice? Does Joel even think you’re pretty in the first place? You can’t remember, your mind is blanking. 

Jesus, chill out. You’re going over for dinner, and this isn’t even about you. 

Swallowing the saliva in your mouth, you knock.

“I’ll get it!!” A voice yells from inside. Not Joel’s.

Tommy grins at you after he swings open the door. He’s done his hair back, instead of tying it back, and he’s wearing a blue and black, plaid, flannel. The Miller brothers seem to have a flannel for every occasion. 

“Well helloo Neighbor-Girl,” Tommy greets. His smile is devious as he stands in the doorway. 

Loud footsteps rush up behind Tommy and he’s suddenly being yanked out of your view by a hand. 

“Christ, Tommy, leave’er alone.” Joel grunts.

He isn’t wearing a flannel, which surprises you. His usual casual clothes have been replaced by a nice, black, western shirt. The stitching across the chest is done in black as well. Not unlike Tommy, is his slicked back hair. It’s short still, but it looks good pushed back. 

He tells you to keep your shoes on as he leads you to the backyard. You can’t keep your eyes off him as he and Tommy walk ahead of you. That black shirt, stretched across his back, the curls that lick upwards where his hair isn’t slicked. God, he looks stupidly good.

The house looks about the same. Same couch where you jerked him off, same table where the flowers used to sit, same pictures of his family on the walls. Everything feels different. Why doesn’t it look different?

Finally your eyes reach the backyard, and it looks magical. Various lights have been set up to create a relaxed atmosphere, with some comfortable lawn furniture set up on the deck. The barbecue is clearly cooking something, and Tommy walks to it automatically. 

Sarah and Ellie seem to be giggling to themselves, hunched over in secrecy. The sisters whisper to one another, but part once they see you.

“Hi,” Ellie says immediately, her bright eyes looking at you excitedly. You greet her in return, then wish Sarah a happy birthday.

She’s wearing a matching shirt to Joel’s, which is adorable. You know for a fact that Joel wouldn’t dress up past a button up or flannel for most occasions, meaning Sarah probably begged him for this. Even the wash of their jeans are the same. 

You’re just about to strike up a conversation with the two girls when Joel comes up behind you and squeezes your upper arm gently.

“‘M sittin’ over there, if you’d like to join,” he motions to an outdoor couch identical to the one Sarah and Ellie are sitting on.

It’s close enough that you could go back to talking with the girls, but once you’ve sat down beside Joel, they’re back to giggling. 

—

It feels like everybody knows.

This fear from earlier has manifested in front of your eyes, this awful anxiety growing. You could barely finish your food, even though it was delicious. Your mouth is dry all the time, you can’t stop drinking water. You hyperfocus on every little action you take, feeling crazy,

Tommy has been staring at you like he’s holding a secret, his eyes seem to say “I know something you don’t,” and every time you turn your back Sarah and Ellie are giggling again. For them, you try to cut some slack. Ellie is a teen, and Sarah isn’t a lot older than her, they’re young girls, of course they’re giggling. It’s Tommy who’s making you anxious, especially with the scolding scowls that Joel keeps sending him. 

The conversations are fine once you stop eating, mostly with you listening and observing the dynamic in the family. Tommy talks about this recent client he and Joel have been working with as you all eat cake, but it’s hard to focus when it feels like everybody knows what you did.

Joel seems to notice this anxiety over the course of the night, looking at you with mild concern a few times. He even asks if you’re alright at some point, holding the “darlin” for once, and you just tell him you had a rough day at work. Total lie, the only rough thing about this day is how you feel like you’re going to throw up all your food anytime someone in his family starts to perceive you.

Later in the evening, Joel rests his hand on your knee when he reaches for his beer, and you flinch. He seems caught off guard by this, but luckily nobody else notices. His eyes are apologetic as he looks at you, all brown and sappy.

Shame is burning in your veins. He’s invited you here to spend this special night with his daughter and family. He's been so kind to feed you too, but now you’ve made him feel weird too. It feels like your anxiety is leaking out of your pores, a haze of guilt clouding your mind and flooding his. Joel hasn’t seemed bothered at all tonight, or at least he hasn’t shown it. 

But there he is, accommodating you as he leans a little closer and asks;

“S’gettin’ late. I could walk y’home.”

There he is, there’s your Joel. Your Joel, the one who you know as a caring man. In any other situation this would feel like someone politely requesting you leave the party early, but not with Joel. He’s conscious of your emotions, and he can tell you’re too overwhelmed to be here anymore. There’s your sweet boy, reeling you in before it gets to be too much.

You only nod in response.

It’s a few more minutes before you get out of there, with Tommy and Ellie stacking copious amounts of leftovers for you onto paper plates, lidding them with tin foil. You use this time to talk a little with Sarah, asking about her time in college. She’s happy to share with you, and you can see Joel in her. She has the welcoming energy, the same warmth in her that pools in her eyes. Even without the outfits they would match. 

Ellie, however, must be spending too much time with Tommy. They both wear shit eating grins as they hand you the stack of plates stuffed with leftovers, with Tommy asking you to “Come back anytime.”

Blood rushes to your face fast, and you toddle off to the door quickly after saying thank you.

—

The air on the porch is cooler, but your adrenaline is making you run hot. You want to stop sweating, but all the looks and giggles and comments from the night are running through your mind repeatedly. What did they know? How did they know? Joel wouldn’t tell them anything like that, would he? Thank God you didn’t stay long enough to be in those pictures that Sarah wanted to take. 

The front door thuds shut a moment later. Joel’s steps fall heavy behind you, then he’s beside you. He’s barely touched you tonight, and even now he keeps his distance. You’re glad for it, you couldn’t have handled it anyways.

You both walk the short distance to your house, using the pathway rather than cutting through the grass like you usually do. It feels like you should be enjoying these extra seconds of time with him, but all you feel is embarrassed.

He breathes in the cool air of the summer night through his nose, chest puffing, then blows it out.

“I am so, so, fuckin’ sorry,” he says.

It takes you off guard immediately. You felt like you were acting crazy all night just by your own overthinking, but it was also fuelled by Joel’s non-chalantness about everything. He didn’t seem to notice anything all night but you and how anxious you were. This feels like the start of a conversation, so you put the leftovers down on the bottom step of your porch. 

“I– Ellie, when I brought her home after you were over last,” he begins, “she got home and saw the flowers right away. I told her not to make nothin’ of it, but she went and rattled off to Sarah and Tommy.”

Oh, okay. It was just the flowers. That’s good, at least they think you’re a lovesick loser, rather than the neighborhood floozy. 

“I told them to act right tonight, begged’em to. The three of’em have been torturing me about it, I think it’s why I avoided you,” Joel admits quietly. 

He’s doing it again, soothing your worries without meaning to. He’s a cooling balm on your burning brain, a sense of sanity cleansing you. 

Joel wasn’t ashamed of what happened between you two, his family was just being shitstirrers about him receiving flowers. It wasn’t on purpose, and most importantly–

“I’m really sorry, angel. I should have called or– or somethin. Askin’ you to come tonight was askin’ for trouble from them. My daughter’s birthday ain’t makin’ up for shit, ‘specially not when they’re actin’ like that.”

An apology. Joel Miller seemed like a solid man before, one that was dependable, polite, and kind, but now he seems near-perfect. He’s taking accountability, admitting how he acted and why, and apologizing. No wonder he has two incredible daughters, both of whom love him dearly. 

You stand there for a minute, a little speechless. You can’t remember a time that a man apologized to you and seemed to really mean it, or at least understand what he did wrong. But there’s Joel, in his black western shirt that’s rolled up his thick forearms, eyes soft and sorry as he looks at you in the blue-black night. He’s not like any man you’ve met before, not like your dad, friends back home, or your ex-boyfriend. 

Tonight isn’t like any night you’ve had in Texas so far, but for so many different reasons. You’ve had a few weird nights, sure. Like what you shared with Joel, or the time you took the wrong bus home and got lost downtown, but it’s weird in a good way.

Tonight, you get to accept an apology from a man who truly seems sorry. Who’s admitted his wrongs, explained what happened, and more than that he’s been earnest about it. You didn’t have to beg for this apology, or argue why he should apologize. He did that on his own, made up his mind, and said sorry like a real man would. 

It’s hard to make up your mind on what to do though, whether you should throw yourself at him and kiss him dizzy, or to just say “It’s alright, no hard feelings.”

You settle somewhere in the middle, taking his hands into your own. Your thumb pads rest in the centre of his palms, pushing down and massaging his hands. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, voice unsteady. 

Joel isn’t at fault for his family being devious and obviously way too interested in his love life. What he is at fault for, is avoiding you. Brave enough to apologize, pussy enough to avoid the girl he likes. You keep talking.

“I wish you would have spoken to me about this, it made me feel awkward,” you tell him.

He looks up from your joined hands then, looking at you face on. Shame is painting his features, but he’s trying to be courageous, you can tell.

There is no “I know I should have,” or “I’m sorry you felt that way.” Just his voice saying, “I’m sorry.”

No if’s, and’s, or but’s. He’s sorry without excuse or pride. 

The night air is still brisk on your skin, but Joel is warm everywhere. If you laid a hand onto his cheek you would feel hot flesh burning you back. His eyes flit from your own for a moment, decisive. 

“I’d really, really, like to have dinner with you sometime. I know tonight was a disaster, so I won’t be offended if y’say no, but… I wanna make this up to you.”

This feels so much realer than last time, like he’s gripping your heart in his hand and squeezing as it beats. Joel isn’t just saying this in passing after he’s come in your hand, he’s not awkward and politely asking to return a favor. Joel wants this, wants you, wants to have dinner with you. It probably should have occurred to you when he invited you to his daughter’s birthday dinner, but it’s only hitting you right now. No more pity invites, he wants this. 

Joel Miller wants this, he wants you, and he’s standing there with your hands in his, with his stupid soft eyes and with his heart on the line. He’s beautiful right now, standing with you as sorry as he can be. You’ll let him have this, he’s asking for it himself. Joel’s being so much braver this time around.

“I think we could do that,” you reply quietly.

His shoulders relax, brow unfurrowing. You can see the relief flood over him instantly, and he looks beautiful then too. 

It’s easy from there. Joel’s voice is so soft when he’s grateful, quiet as he thanks and arranges a date-night with you. The two of you decide that a night in would be fine, since Joel ends up working late pretty often. You’re fine with this, and would honestly rather have him to yourself anyways. No more prying eyes when you’re with him, no more over-bearing perceptions that make your brain fizzle out with anxiety. Just you and Joel. 

Admittedly, this silly crush on Joel began at a pretty surface level. Not shallow, but all you knew about him was that he was a hot dad and a nice guy. Now, though? Now he’s proven himself, shown you that there’s something in him that you can reach for. Everything’s bigger in Texas, but so far it’s only made you feel small. Being around Joel hushes you, like a kiss to a scrape. You want to know him deeper. 

He squeezes your hands, then drops them so you can pick up your leftovers. You feel a little shy turning your back to him as you make it up to your door, but then he speaks.

“You looked real pretty tonight, angel, more’n usual.”

You hope he can’t hear the squeak you make when the door shuts behind you.

—

It’s a few days later, and Joel is supposed to be coming soon. He warned that he’s been working late recently, that he probably won’t be off work until eight that evening. You don’t care, you made him dinner. 

It’s sitting in the kitchen, ready to be rewarmed when he gets to your house. It’s 8:30 now, he should be here soon. You’re tucked away on the couch, settled after recooling the house with your air conditioner. To be honest it should be illegal to cook during summers like this. You sweated so much you thought about taking another shower, but it wouldn’t have helped.

Besides, Joel’s showing up to your house in probably 10 minutes, sweaty and gross from work. It won’t be like you’re any grosser in comparison.

As predicted, he does show up ten minutes later. His hair is a mess and he smells like hard work, but it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters when he’s in your doorway, toeing off his boots, and asking how your day was. Joel’s eyes keep shyly meeting yours as you lead him to your living room and turn to face him. He’s nervous, clearly, but it’s sweet. You’re both out of your element again, this time in your house instead.

Joel’s eyes flit around the room when he’s avoiding your eyes, taking in your home similar to how you did his when you were there not so long ago. You wonder what he’s thinking, hoping he doesn’t find you to be boring. He keeps clenching and unclenching his fists and laughing nervously, and you keep watching how his adam's apple bobs in his throat, and how he vibrates with his laughter. He looks puppylike in the soft light of your home, brown eyes glistening.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him, tilting your head upwards. He looks so huge in your little space.

Joel nods sheepishly, and so you lead him into the kitchen.

—

They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and maybe Joel is the reason they say that. He groaned his way through dinner, with his eyes rolled back and compliments flying off his tongue when he wasn’t chewing. He listened to every word you said intently, taking his time with the food you had made. It had taken almost 40 minutes for him to finish that plate of food, and you saw just earlier that week how fast he could pound back a meal.

He’s savoring you with this silent praise you’ve never experienced.

And now he’s sat beside you on the couch, arm around your shoulders, and you’re snuggled back into him. The remote seems like a prop as you use it, aimlessly scrolling through a streaming service for a movie. Your thumbs are just rubbing over the rubber buttons now, your eyes focused on how his chest rises and falls. 

“I really don’t mind what you wanna watch, baby,” He says.

His voice seems so much nicer up close like this, when his face is just above yours and you’re beside him. 

“Or we don’t have to watch anything at all, we can just talk.”

How are you supposed to control yourself around him? How can he just walk into your home and fit right into your space, and look that good and be so warm? It feels like your bones are fighting against your skin to move, like the blood in your veins is yearning to jump rope. Joel is turning you on in a way you didn’t think possible, in a way where he’s never touched you, but you need him all at once. He’s softening the both of you.

It’s the middle of the hottest July of your entire life, but you’ve never felt warmer than right now.

“I’m sorry, was that weird? I jus’ like to hear you talk an–” Fuck he’s so nervous. Why is he so nervous? You want him loose and pliant again, like he was on the couch. 

“You should kiss me,” you blurt out. 

It’s funny how this is not the most insane thing you’ve suggested. The first crazy thing you suggested was “helping” him out with his boner when you went to his house on father’s day. 

Still, Joel is surprised. 

“You think so? I jus’ ate, I probably taste like food,” he says it like it’s an excuse.

You shift your body so you can face him better, chin tilted up so you can see his face. He’s not blushing, but he does seem surprised. This is much different than the embarrassed girl he walked home not even a week ago.

“Joel, I’m sure. I just– I don’t know, I’m sorry,” you bumble out.

He’s shaking his head, eyebrows pinched in that stupid way that makes his eyes look like a baby animals. 

“No, no, baby, it’s alright I’m just gross from work and I…” He drops eye contact with you. 

“I don’t want you to think that all I want from you is physical. You’re beautiful in a lot more ways than that.”

Fuck this guy, seriously. He’s so nervous, and clearly still thinks he’s fumbling this. Your bones are still vibrating, you’re so close to jumping out of your skin and into his. 

“Joel you’re incredible too, but I just really need you to kiss me,” you breathe. 

He seems to get it then. You clearly have deeper feelings, but after so long apart, and that disaster with his family, you’re pent up. Joel knows he’s kept you waiting long enough.

His first kiss is hesitant, just a small one that ends in a mumbled apology.

“S’been awhile,” he excuses before going back in.

And from there, it escalates. He’s controlled in his kisses, and seems to be avoiding tongue kissing you. Joel’s hesitancy from eating earlier is there, and you appreciate the courtesy. He makes it up though, when you push him further back on the couch and slide into his lap, arms looped around his neck.

Kisses are dotted from your lips, down your chin, and to the soft skin of your neck, where his mouth nips and kisses gently. Your hands are in his hair as you roll your head back, wanting to allow him however much space he needs to kiss you. There’s no hesitancy for either of you to be quiet, with him groaning as he smothers your neck in kisses, and you whining as he finds your sensitive points. 

It only takes a few ruts of your hips against his for him to be asking you if you want to go upstairs. He’s out of breath beneath you, cheeks flushed, and you can feel how hard he’s gotten.

“Y-yeah, my room,” you agree weakly, sliding off his lap.

Joel can barely keep his hands off you as you scamper up the stairs, grasping at your thighs and laughing softly when you squeak. 

It feels so juvenile, the way he grabs for you as soon as you enter your room. His lips are back on yours even as you try to tug up his shirt and he shakes his head slightly. 

“You first, I have a lot to make up for,” he mumbles, nodding his head towards the bed.

He undresses you once you’ve laid down, with eyes that drag over you in awe and pure attraction. Joel doesn’t mind your plain cotton undies, or the hairs that poke out the front. It’s sweet and homelike, it’s normal. 

He kisses where your hip bone is, murmuring into the fabric that covers it. 

“I really want to eat you out, beautiful. Is that okay with you?”

For the first time in this entire evening, his voice seems to sober you rather than intoxicate you more. Your lungs finally catch up with the rest of you, and you can breathe enough to get some actual oxygen into your brain, so you can think.

Obviously the answer should be yes, but you don’t feel totally comfortable with that yet. You’re not someone who prefers to be shaven, it’s inconvenient, but your bush is a little much even for you right now. On top of that, you’ve been sweating like crazy all day, so you don’t even wanna know what it’s like down there. And if you don’t wanna know what it’s like, then you don’t want Joel to know what it’s like, even if he really wants to.

So you shake your head.

Perfect boy he is, Joel nods and says “that’s alright, baby, thank you for bein’ honest,” as he slides back up your body after placing one more kiss on your hip bone. 

You are okay with him lifting your shirt off, and then unclipping your bra. He palms at your breasts lovingly, kissing them all over and lapping at your nipples. All of his touches are so gentle, but stupidly impactful. He seems to know that you don’t want this to be rough, that you enjoy his sweetness. He’s understanding you without even trying, and it feels like you’re being loved for the first time.

Joel is being careful in a way that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being overdramatic, or fragile. He’s watching your movements so he can do this right, but at the same time you’re getting impatient.

“Joel,” you pant as he sucks your nipple back into his mouth, “Joel, take your clothes off, please?”

He’s stupidly excited as he scrambles off your bed, tugging his jeans down and almost getting caught in his shirt when he pulls it off wrong. Joel touches his boxers and then looks at you with questioning eyes. This is where he hesitates.

“We can turn the lights off,” you offer gently. 

You remember his hesitancy on the couch, how he didn’t want you to look at him, to see him. It doesn’t matter if it’s dark in your room when this happens, so long as it’s him in the bed with you.

Joel turns and shuts the lights off, plunging the room into darkness for a moment before your eyes adjust. In another moment, you feel him on top of you again, his warm skin touching yours. It’s very lucky you cracked your window open earlier, so now your bedroom has become a manageable temperature. 

He’s comfortable on top of you, with his plush tummy pressing against the softness of your own. Your legs tangle as you struggle to strip your undies off, and you give up when they get caught around your ankle. His nose is pressed to your cheek as he just hovers above you for a second. 

“I know I said this earlier, but it really has been a long time,” he admits quietly. 

It shouldn’t warm your heart the way it does, but the idea of him not sharing himself with anyone for so long until you… it’s special. 

“That’s okay. Are you okay?” You ask.

He nods, from what you can feel, and then pulls back onto his knees. Joel isn’t totally visible in the light of your room, but he’s still gorgeous from what you can tell. The pouch of his tummy is so cute, so real, and you hope that you can bite it one day.

“I’m just going to prep you a little, is that okay darlin?” Joel says carefully, trailing a hand down your thigh.

Maybe from the outside this looks like two awkward people having sex, or maybe even like you don’t want each other at all. It sounds like there’s so much hesitancy in the room, but it’s not like that. The two of you are just reassuring one another, Joel to you because he was gone for so long, and you to him because it’s been so long for him. 

So it isn’t awkward, when he plunges his finger into you. He starts with one, gentle as ever, and works up to three very slowly. Joel leans down to your cheek and murmurs the nicest things to you, telling you how nice you feel, thanking you for being so kind to him.

“So patient with me, baby. Don’t know why you are, but it’s so kind,” he says quietly as he curls his fingers in you. They feel so much bigger than your own, but they fit fine. Fuller than you’re used to, but fulfilled in a new way. The feeling chokes your breath and all you can do is whimper softly at him, eyes wide.

“M’gonna be makin’ up my mistakes for a long time to you, an’ not just like this,” he promises, slowing his movements but making them more deliberate, a little harder. Nothing is burning like it usually does, there’s no sting of pain, it’s just a melting pot of pleasure between your legs as he gives himself to you and you to him. 

“Is that okay with you? Is it okay if I wanna make this up to you for a long time?” Joel asks.

You know what he’s asking. You know you want it too, you know you haven’t felt this wanted since you moved to Texas, probably even before. Nothing has felt like this in your life, and he’s requesting you to have it. 

“Yes, yes, Joel, that’s okay with me,” you say.

He leans down and kisses you once, then lets you scoot up and over on the bed so you can fumble in your drawer for the lube. Your hand passes over a silicone toy in your bedside table and you smile at the fact that it will soon be long abandoned as you pass the lube to him.

“Might be cold,” Joel warns before pouring some onto his fingers and applying it to you.

Then, he applies some to himself and settles comfortably between your legs. He drags the head of his cock over your hole and up to your clit, like a teasing warning. He had felt big in your palm before, but he feels even bigger now. He was right to prep you.

Finally, he notches himself and slowly pushes in, letting your locked ankles on his lower back guide the speed at which he slides in. Joel is breathing really heavily, and when he finally feels his pelvis meet yours, he collapses down onto his elbows.

“Fuck,” he cusses.

It feels better than you thought it would. He’s big, but not so much that you want him to pull back a little. You physically feel as comfortable and fulfilled as he makes you feel emotionally.

“So good, oh my god–” you sigh softly, hands reaching up and catching his curls in your fingers. You drag him down, your beautiful boy, and kiss him gently. 

But he isn’t moving. You can feel his thighs shaking and how he’s still breathing heavily.

“Hey,” you start softly after pulling back from the kiss, but he shakes his head.

“If I move I think–  I think I’m gonna come,” he sputters out embarrassedly.

Oh. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry baby. You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s been so long and you feel so goddamn good, I don’t know, I can’t move.” 

His nose is near enough to yours that you can brush them together, nuzzling the side of his face.

“Joel it’s okay, I’m not going to be upset,” you tell him. It’s oddly sweet for him to have such an overwhelming reaction to you. 

“No, I know that I just… I really wanna make you come. I wanna feel it," he admits.

And so you wait. Your unending patience seems to extend to him again in this moment and you lay there kissing him until he can finally begin to move at an even pace. 

It’s so worth it.

Joel is so loving as he fucks you, with deep thrusts as he groans and bites at your neck tenderly. His hands come up and palm your breasts, rolling his thumbs over his nipples as he tells you how pretty you are, how grateful and sorry he is.

He apologizes a lot. For the party, for his distance, for how stupid he was to not see how beautiful you were from the day you moved in next door. He’s noisy and apologetic as he keeps a stable pace as he fucks you into your mattress. 

Your mind is entirely fucked for him. You’re whimpering and mewling beneath him, babbling “it’s okay,” and “i forgive you,” everytime he says he’s sorry. Why is he even sorry anymore? Can’t he tell how much you love this? 

The more he talks the closer you get, your body clenching around him as he buries himself deep repeatedly. The stable pace he set should ground you, should keep your head on your shoulders, but it’s actually making it worse. You don’t need it any faster or harder than he’s giving it to you, not with how noisy he is, and how attentive his hands are.

“Do you forgive me?” he rumbles into your ear, dropped on one elbow as his other hand is reached down and gently rubbing your clit. 

You nod desperately, accidentally knocking your head into his. It makes him laugh, asking “yeah?” as he continues to pin his hips into your own. 

“I forgive you, Joel, I swear,” you choke out weakly. 

“Then will you come for me, honey? Please?” he asks.

It’s maybe the dirtiest thing he’s said all night, or maybe it just feels like it in the heat of the moment, but it sends you over the edge right away. You spasm around him and claw at his broad back, gasping for air and squeaking out noises you haven’t made before. Tears prick at your eyes as he works you through it with his fingers and cock.

“Fuck, yeah, there you are baby, that’s a good girl. God– Can I come? Is that okay?” Joel asks once you start to come down. You’re still in your head enough to nod, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. 

It doesn’t take long at all, you’re surprised he was able to last as long as he did with everything considered. Joel takes less than a minute before he’s pulling out and letting out deep grunts and breaths as he comes on your tummy, looking down at you with adoring eyes. 

“Thank you, thank you baby, God.” He huffs out as he catches his breath. He’s kneeling between your legs with his chest puffing. 

He continues thanking you as he cleans you up with a washcloth. You had to guide him to it by yelling instructions as he walked on shaky legs to your linen closet, not wanting to spill his mess everywhere. 

Once you’re finally cleaned up, he nestles into bed with you. Your head lays on his still clammy shoulder as he tucks you beneath his arm and presses kisses to your hairline.

“M’so grateful for you, darlin’, I hope you know that,” he mumbles to you. 

You tell him that you know, that he just proved it to you, and he laughs. The noise is so warm in your room, like it was meant to be there.

“Okay, that’s fair, but if you need anything else,” he tells you.

A thought does pop into your mind, but it doesn’t seem totally appropriate. You’re enjoying this peaceful moment with Joel, in your quiet room. His hand is tapping its fingers on your stomach, squeezing the flesh once or twice.

You decide not to say anything, but your tummy does. She growls loud and proud, forcing an embarrassed blush onto your face.

“Um… I think I’m kinda hungry,” you admit.

—

That’s how you and Joel end the night, in the kitchen.

You’re sitting on your countertop while he leans against it about a foot away. The paper plate that Ellie loaded up with cake is sat between the two of you, and your forks steal big lumps out of it.

Joel has frosting in his moustache, but it looks so cute there that you don’t have the heart to tell him. Instead, you just lean over and kiss him. 

“N’ what was that for?” He asks through a mouthful of cake.

You just giggle and shrug, admiring him. 

“I just like you,” you tell him.

He looks like he might roll his eyes, but instead he steps closer to you and kisses you on the cheek. You can feel the residue of the frosting on your skin.

“Yeah, I think I like you too, baby.” 

i don't have a taglist, but i'll just tag people who commented on texas sweet :p @mochamadeleines @pascalssbabyy @taeslarityy @stefanibear003 @slutty-express @theweedisasterxoxo @knockk0ut @axshadows @lumpatto @aquanatalie @peekyourinterest @moel-jiller @ghostofzion @joeylovestofu @hellishjoel @pedropeach @pawnshopb1ues

[bwskj]

NSFW MDNI | jjk x reader

- jjk characters reacting to u asking them on call for a moaning audio -

chars: gojo, nanami, megumi, sukuna, yuuji, inumaki

notes: (text) are you; bulleted + written

tags: honestly just a lot of nsfw stuff, pls x away if ur a minor or uncomfy

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

gojo

— “baby what?”, he laughs amused, “did you just say you want me to send a moaning audio?”

— you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “ah baby, well i could do that… just not for free. give me something to look at and i’ll make it, how about that?”

output: bro sends a hand held video of him jacking off while sitting on the living room couch. a part of his laptop sitting on the coffee table with your photo/video on it is shown in the upper half of the video, behind the main character that is his thick hard cock. satoru likes talking as if you’re there kneeling in front of him, pretending he’s got your face to tap his dick on before he fully wraps his hand around the girth and starts pumping. he often groans low with the occasional sharp inhales through gritted teeth. eventually, he gets to the point wherein he’s leaking so much pre-cum it’s enough to help him make big smooth strokes over his length. his camera angle ends up wonky sometimes because he’s too zoned in jerking off to you. “fuckkk baby, god you’re so—hot” and “shit… that’s mine, that fucking pussy belongs to me.” he sure loves his dirty talk, “bet you wanna ride this huh, baby? want your tight pussy walls sucking up my cock.” when he finally cums, you can tell he’s trying his best to not hold in his moans (cause ofc that’s what you’re looking for). his thighs tense, spreading apart as his cum shoots up high, loud groans with every shot that spatters all over his bare stomach. he aims the camera down at his messy torso, laying his dick on it as he swipes it across the mess around and on his happy trail. “i wanna see you lick this clean off, baby.”

nanami

—“excuse me? a what?” (you repeat yourself)

—hunched over his desk at work, he says, “honey i… don’t do that,” he sounds concerned that you would ask for such thing, “do you need it for… something?” you can imagine the stitch in his brow when he asks this.

— (you reply with a vague and teasing “maybe”) kento lightly huffs, seeming slightly bothered (?)“well, i’m busy right now… just… wait until i get home.”

output: no audio but what did you expect he was at work! not like he would do it though if he wasn’t. instead, on the way home, he’s got one thing on his mind. the thought keeps bubbling up in excitement, making him tap his foot in impatience as he rides the elevator up to your shared apartment. when you hear the jangle of his keys in the doorknob, you spring up from where you’ve been rotting. a smile immediately appears on your face when you see your boyfriend looking even more dashing with the appearance of a man who’s worked hard all day at work. “you’re home, i—“ you’re about to tell him you’ve missed him but he cuts you off when he closes the distance, leaning in and catching your lips with his. he drops his work bag on the floor as the big palm of his hand slides onto your back. he pulls you close, not giving you the chance to speak anymore as his deep hungry kiss keeps your mouth busy. you manage to make at least the sound of, “mphh.. Kento!” when his lips pull back a bit. you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back, his jaw and shoulders feeling rigid when your hands feel over them. “couldn’t wait to get home,” he mumbles when his mouth detaches for a second — basically, yea, he fucks you pretty much the whole night or until you can’t take any more. everything he does is meant to please you; he thrives on giving you, his pretty princess, what you want, feeling fulfilled when he knows he can keep you more than satisfied.

sukuna

— “the fuck? a moaning audio? why would i do that?

— he stretches his jaw, the eyes on his cheeks fluttering a little eye roll. he speaks into the mic at a low volume, “baby if you miss being dicked down just say so…”

— “uhuh yea, keep pretending you don’t want it til you’ve got this cock in your mouth, right? stay put. i’m coming over”

output: no moaning audio. he gets to your place in 10 minutes (how the fuck he got there that quick you’ll never know). when you greet him at the door, mouth ajar in surprise, you can’t stop yourself from cheekily saying, “well, isn’t somebody excited?”

“i wanna know what the bitch who’s asking for an audio sounds like when she gets what she actually wants,” he cockily spits out as he looms over you by the still open door frame.

your eyes widen at his response but you can only stutter before his hand is suddenly holding you by your throat. he welcomes himself in, shutting the door behind him while you almost stumble back into your hallway. your hands instinctively reach to grab at the back of his hand around your neck. not even a second later and his other hand grabs one of yours, tugging it and placing it over the tent in his pants. his fingers sandwiched around your neck begins to squeeze and you accidentally sound out a moan. you can feel his sharp nails pricking your nape. his hand holding yours guides you into palming him. a dark smirk is on his face. “i’m fucking hard. do something about it.”

long story short: he rails you (on your bed, in front of the mirror, doggy style or just backshots in general— he loves pinning your wrists behind you and watching your tits bounce everytime he pounds into you. when you’re on top, he doesn’t even give you the chance to ride him on your own). “how you liking this, huh? sweet little slut. you like this fat cock fucking your stomach? isn’t this better than some shit tease through the phone?”

megumi

— his cheeks warm when he hears the words through the phone, “what’s that?” He asks though he knows full well what you mean (i think megumi would be a secret tumblr user).

— you carefully explain it to him. there’s hesitation in his voice when he says, “oh, i see…”

— alarmed by the way his voice trailed off, you reassure him that he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.

— he replies with a slightly stammered okay and the call eventually awkwardly ends with exchanged ‘i love you’s and ‘talk to you later’s

— you feel slightly embarrassed for voicing your request but it’s not long before you forget about it. it was worth a shot.

— that night, while you’re snuggled up in your cozy blanket, you receive a single voice note from megumi with no message attached

— megumi blushes as he stares at the file he just sent, wondering if he did it okay. you don’t know that he jack offed and recorded not even five minutes after your call ended.

output: when you press play you’re immediately met with the semi-distant sounds of megumi’s shaky gasps and breathy low moans. it looks like he sent you a recording of the most interesting part of his session wherein wet stroking sounds are being picked up by his phone. there’s oftentimes soft whimpers that slip through, the noise of his bed covers shifting on his skin almost overpowering it when he gets more and more into fucking his hand (or whatever he’s slotting his dick through). you have to replay it a couple times to make sure you heard right—pride blooming within you when you’re certain he’s whimpering and mumbling out your name. his moans rise in pitch and grow more rugged the closer he gets to his climax. “a-ah… mm—hah.. gonna c-cum,” you can hear the strokes getting faster and the sheets being gripped tight. when he cums, he gets even louder, noisy staggering moans falling out his mouth. you just know his throbbing dick is thrusting up while chasing his high. when it dies down, you can hear soft panting and then the sound of his phone being picked up. there’s a silent pause before his voice comes through low and crisp, “i… hope you liked that.”

yuuji

— “a what audio??”, he laughs, “you’re kidding!” His laugh fades when he realises you aren’t.

— “wait seriously, you’re into that? like those audios on reddit or something?”

— (“… you know those?” you ask curiously.)

— yuuji gets flustered, he stutters, “i-i don’t—I accidentally came across them once. kinda freaked me out, ngl…”

— (“freaked you out?”)

— “yea, i dunno, never imagined guys to be doing that for a living. and i didn’t know there were girls who especially liked that.”

— (“really… well a lot of girls actually like that. but yea, i guess you wouldn’t really know, cuz you know,” you lightly tease.)

— yuuji rubs a hand over his blushing cheek, “you don’t have to keep reminding me that you’re my first…”

— (he always reacts like this and so you remind him again [you love reminding him], “sorry my yuuji, but you know, i love being your first, especially knowing that my competition is literally THE jennifer lawrence.”)

— you can hear the smile yuuji is trying to keep down, “and your 100x better than her,” (honestly, you just tease him to hear him say this again)

— (“so what about that audio?”)

— “hm?” yuuji didn’t even realize it until now that he’s got a hand over the boner jutting through his boxers

— you quickly reassure him that he can say no if he doesn’t want to. there’s a silence that hangs for a moment in the call, and when you’re about to say something again to dismiss the topic, he starts, “could you… maybe, talk me through it?”

output: you piece together that yuuji’s turned on. “are you… hard rn?” your voice comes gentle through the phone and yuuji grabs his dick stronger through the cloth, pushing his palm against it. he shudders, “m-maybe.” your voice sounds so good.

“are you…” you trail off, but yuuji knows what you mean. he quickly replies, “is this okay? you can tell me if it’s not, i-i’ll stop.” yuuji doesn’t want to stop but he’s stiffened his hand on his dick to try to stop himself from touching further without your consent.

there’s another short pause before you say, “mm, it’s okay, yuuji… you need help?”

“mhm,” he hums, instantly resuming his hand movement. there’s slight guilt when he clears his throat and says, “s-sorry our call kind of—went in another direction, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I can—“

your laugh cuts him off, “sweetie it’s okay. i’d like to help. we’ll hit two birds with one stone since i wanted an audio anyway.”

yuuji blushes even harder. “I… I’ll try to not… hold it in.”

you grin, biting at your lip as you lay in your bed with your phone planted on your ear. “Good… you’ll give me what i want hm?”

Yuuji’s breaths are beginning to tremble as he continues to rub himself to the sound of your voice. “y-yea, for you… i’ll do what you want.”

it gets more serious when yuuji finally takes his dick out his boxers and starts pumping it up and down; it’s almost fully hard. he loves it when you ask him what he’s doing, what he’s thinking about. his moans start off quiet but when you tell him you wanna hear him, his voice breaks and he lets a louder sound come out his throat. “can you imagine your hand as my hand, or my mouth?” you ask him. at this point your thighs are squeezed together and you can feel the wetness pool in your panties. this makes yuuji moan even louder.

after a couple minutes of this teasing dirty talk, yuuji can’t take it anymore and the needy words, “fuh… i… i want to see you. c-can i?” slip out of his mouth.

it turns into a video call after the both of you move to transfer to your laptops. you can see yuuji’s tip peeking from the bottom edge of the screen. his shirt is on and it’s lightly sticking to his skin, likely because he’s starting to sweat. when you turn on your camera, your pretty face comes into view and you’re in the usual clothes you wear at home: loose shirt, no bra, panties. you can instantly tell yuuji’s back to jerking himself, though you can’t see his whole hand or his face at all.

“let me see you, sweetie,” you say, hand digging between your sticking thighs and going over your clothed crotch.

his movement slows, “shit, you wanna see me?” he sounds embarrassed. you nod. yuuji is obviously reluctant, but he listens, repositioning his laptop further so it captures his face and dick in hand. you feel yourself throb at the sight.

it isn’t long before you’re touching your bare pussy in front of the camera, tits out on display. you’re lewd and so is yuuji, now more confidently moaning as he pleases himself to you. between your own sounds, you softly say, “gosh my pretty baby. you’re doing so well,” knowing how your boyfriend is secretly a sucker for praise. yuuji groans, body jerking as his face flushes even redder. “will you come for me?” you say. you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

yuuji’s a moaning needy mess, the hand not on his dick pinning the hem of his shirt high up. “fuugh… y-yes… yes for you. I’ll come… i’m about to—about… agh—“

yuuji’s hand pumps the tip fast and he cums strongly, head bowing as his hips thrust up and he shoots white. “Ah~ oh~,” he’s shaky and noisy all the way through his high. when he finally lifts his head up to look at you, you’re sweetly smiling (you came watching him cum but he missed it ://). you stare at one another for a moment before the both of you let out (somewhat nervous) laughter.

yuuji pats sweat off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, careful not to have the other covered in his own cum go near his bed sheets. “gosh, you’re good. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you beam. “and i’m so lucky to have such a pretty, handsome boyfriend. you did great.”

he shyly looks away, biting on his lip to suppress a smile, “thank you.”

inumaki

— you text him asking for a moaning audio (unless u want inumaki to go tuna tuna at u on call lmao)

— “?”

— “how do i make that?”

— you send him a voice note explaining what kind of audio it is, making sure to tell him he doesnt have to do it if he doesnt want to

— “…”

— “okay…”

— “i totally thought you wanted to hear me in pain and i was… concerned.”

— (“??? baby pls no?!)

— “thank god”

— there’s a pause in the chat

— “i would send if i could.”

— (“wdym? if you don’t feel comfortable about it it’s okay maki”)

— “no… um”

—(“?”)

— “i don’t really get hard unless ur here.”

— (you stare at his message before sending an “oh !”)

— “yea… nothing else does it for me. sorry.”

— (you’re both blushing and stricken by his response. “no baby don’t be sorry TT you don’t need to do this. i can always hear you in person.”)

— “sure?”

— (“yes for sure TT”)

— “:p i’ll make those sounds for you next time if you really like them.”

output: next time you see each other, it starts off as usual. a casual date outside before going back to his place for nightly cuddles and eventually… that. it’s clear inumaki remembers you’re conversation without you having to bring it up. he’s nervous at first (he’s always been pretty quiet mostly because he’s mindful of using his voice), and you see it in his eyes. “just let it out okay? it’s just me here,” you whisper when you softly kiss under his neck, a little shy as well. soon, when you’re kissing, touching, and sucking him all over, his moans are tiny sharp inhales and whimpers rising up his throat; they come out somewhat muffled because of his closed mouth. since he can’t really risk saying anything, he’ll tell you that he feels good with a hand combing through your hair or a thumb caressing your skin. he’ll buck up into your throat when he cums, his mouth accidentally opening to sound out a breathier vocal moan. when you pull up, wiping your mouth after swallowing, he doesn’t hesitate to pull your face close, kissing you sweetly. you know it’s his way of saying ‘thank you. i love you.”

—— <3

a/n: wrote smth diff today (context: i usually write leon kennedy stuff) these are just my headcanons so i’d love to hear what u guys think! xoxo i had sm fun writing this hehe

also, can u guess who my fav char is? (it’s not the one with the longest part— mb that some are longer than others, idk how to stop smtms)

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.

Words: 2,3k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).

Saturday afternoon

“Two dollars?!”

Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.

You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.

It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.

“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.

“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”

Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.

“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.

“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.

It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.

“My love life is going downhill.” You said.

Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.

“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”

“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.

There was a long, awkward silence.

Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.

“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”

At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”

“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.

You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.

“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”

“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”

“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”

You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.

“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”

Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”

“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”

When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.

“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”

You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.

However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.

“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.

“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.

“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”

“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.

“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.

You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”

They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.

You weren't going to lose your mind over this.

Monday morning

You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.

All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.

But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.

A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.

“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.

But obviously, it wasn't him.

“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.

“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.

In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.

“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.

“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.

He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm sorry, I just thought—”

“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”

That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.

“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.

His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.

“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.

The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”

You tilted your head slightly to one side.

“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.

Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.

“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I...I thought you—” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.

“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it—” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.

“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”

With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.

“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.

He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”

“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”

Perhaps he was your prince after all.

[fl0ralsxgar]

OUHHH YAYAYAY I WAS WAITING FOR THIS GUYSSS

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!

People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

[nereidprinc3ss]

whiny and spoiled

in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs

You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 

You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 

“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 

“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 

“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 

“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 

“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 

“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 

“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 

He circles to the foot of the bed. 

“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 

“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 

You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 

“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 

“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 

“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  

“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 

But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 

“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 

Your eyes narrow. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  

“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 

You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 

“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 

“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 

“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  

“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 

“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 

“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 

“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 

“I like hearing you say yes.” 

You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 

“Yes, you can take them off.” 

A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  

“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 

“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 

“My attitude is your fault.” 

“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 

“Spencer,” you grit. 

He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 

“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 

And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 

“Are you just saying that?” 

Another kiss. 

“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 

“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  

The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 

“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 

He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 

Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  

His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  

“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  

“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 

“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 

“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 

“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  

Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 

“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 

He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 

You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  

“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 

“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 

A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 

The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 

“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 

“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 

“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 

“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 

You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 

“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 

“Don’t go spreading it around.” 

“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 

“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 

He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 

“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 

You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 

“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 

“Oh, do I?” 

[roastedoatmilk]

Lunch Box Scandal

Kento Nanami x Gn! Reader

Summary: Someone seems to be packing Nanami’s lunch for him and Gojo is determined to figure out who it is.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: the most tooth rotting fluff, mentions of satosugu, gojo needs a hug he's also a little shit in this, nanami being insanely whipped for his partner

This is also on ao3 !!

Little Things Masterlist here

Kento Nanami sighs as he walks into the faculty room, lunch box in hand, Gojo had been on his nerves all day pestering him over the smallest things. Sitting down at the farthest table from the door Kento sets his lunch box onto the table wondering what you had prepared for him for his lunch that day. Unlatching the buckle holding the tin box closed Kento hears the door to the room open and then quickly close again, he inwardly groans knowing exactly who had just entered the room.

“Nanamin!” Gojo cheered, “not having lunch by yourself, are you?” Making his way over to the table that the blond man was at and plopping down into the seat closest to him.

Kento tries his hardest to ignore the 6 '3 man child and opens the lid to his lunch box finally getting a view of what you had packed for him that morning. A small smile comes to the man’s face when he sees the effort you put into his lunch. The rice balls molded to be shaped like penguins each one having a different little face, the sausages cut to be shaped like octopuses, the eggs made out to be a duck with little faces, and a star shaped carrot placed over his peas. Taped to the lid of the box is a little note in your handwriting that says “You’re my Honey Bee” with a tiny drawing of two bees underneath it. As he was reading the note he could feel the gaze of a certain blindfolded man on him.

Sighing, Kento turns to the white haired man and asks, “Yes Satoru?” trying his hardest to make it look like your note didn’t affect him.

Gojo didn’t buy it for one second, a wicked grin on his face. Snatching the note from the top of the lunch box before he could say anything, Gojo brings the note closer to him and reads it before laughing, Kento just groans knowing what’s coming next.

“Awwww Nanami I didn’t realize you were the type to like being called such sweet pet names, I always took you for the type to hate them.” Gojo commented before continuing with “Maybe I should start calling you Honey Bun.”

Kento glared at the white haired man while he angrily munched on one of the rice balls that you had packed him, it was delicious as usual. You always insisted on waking up early to pack his lunch for him even though he has told you countless times that it isn't necessary. Gojo eyes the food curiously taking in the presentation of it.

“Hold on now Nanamin, who exactly packed this lunch for you?” The white haired man questions noticing how much effort was put into the lunch.

Gojo likes to think that he knows Nanami well enough at this point and he is certain that the stoic man wouldn’t put this much effort into his own lunch instead opting to buy a sandwich from a local convenience store and call it a day. Kento sighs not really wanting to tell Gojo about you, not because he was ashamed of you, that's not the case at all. Instead, it’s because he knew that the second the special grade sorcerer knew of your existence, he would never hear the end of it. Popping one of the sausages in his mouth the blond chews as slow as he possibly could to avoid answering the question.

Gojo groans at this before chirping “Come on now Nanami you can tell me anything.” to prove his point Gojo props up his head with the palms of his hands to signal that he’s paying attention.

Kento exhaled heavily before wiping his mouth with a spare napkin, turning his head away from Gojo he finally mumbles “Mypartnermakesmylunchforme.” saying it so quietly that Gojo wasn’t able to catch it.

“Nanamiiiii speak up. I may have six eyes, but my hearing isn't the best in my old age.” Gojo retorts, chuckling at his own joke.

Kento turns his head to face the lanky white haired man, a bright red painting his freckled face and his ears. Taking a deep breath the blond finally says, “My partner makes my lunch for me, now that’s quite enough Satoru I’d like to finish my lunch in peace.”

The second Gojo hears the word partner he perks up immediately, questions racing through his head. He takes in the look on his junior’s face, the red painting his cheeks and ears, the look in his eye as he reads the note you left him over again. In all of his years knowing the man, not once had Gojo seen him look like this. Instead of teasing the blond Gojo nods his head in understanding.

“They must be a really great person to have you looking like this.” Gojo says softly remembering the only person to ever make him look like the blond did now, causing Kento to look up at him.

“They’re the best person I know, they make me a better man.” Kento stated as if it was a fact, the love the man had for you was obvious.

Kento reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it up and turning it towards the special grade sorcerer. Inside one of the main parts was a photo of a person looking directly into the camera, a bright smile lighting up their face. Flour covering their entire being smeared all across their face and clothes, some of it even making it into their hair. Kento smiles fondly at the photo remembering how you both had attempted to try a new recipe which ended in the both of you covered in the ingredients barely any of it making it into the bowl. The blond takes the photo out of the wallet and hands it to Gojo.

“This was the result of the first and last time the two of us tried to bake something together,” Kento explained “We came to realize that we don’t make a good team in the kitchen, more flour ended up on us than in the bowl.” The smile on his freckled face grew the longer he looked at the photo.

Gojo could feel the beginnings of tears welling up in his eyes, thankfully hidden behind his blindfold. The white haired man felt so happy that his junior had found his person, thinking about when he lost his own person all those years ago. Clearing his throat Gojo composes himself and says to the man next to him “Your secret is safe with me, don’t worry.”

Hearing the man say this briefly shocked Kento before he nods his head in thanks, placing the photo of you back in its rightful place in his wallet. Reaching for one of the rice balls he breaks it in half and gives a piece to Gojo, not saying a word as he does so. The two men sit in silence as they eat, a mutual understanding between them.

When Kento returns home that night he asks if it would be too much trouble for you to pack a sweet in his lunch for the future. You nod with a small smile on your face knowing that your lover isn’t a sweets fan but that a certain white haired sorcerer is.

A/N hiya !!! this is part one of a mini series that i’m working on i hope y’all enjoy :3 reader will be having a bigger appearance in the later parts !!!

[httpsserene]

can you do a smau if you want where the reader is a driver and makes music on the side (music like sza or Megan thee stallion and kaliii) and she makes a music video for area codes and all her other music and it has the drivers in it

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 (𝐟𝟏) - 𝐲𝐧. 𝟎

summary: you make hit songs when you’re not driving a formula one car. your fellow drivers love to feature in your music videos. content warning: driver!reader makes music. toxic internet culture. profanity. hateful comments. attempt at humor. fluffy. light angst ig. there's no specific face claim, just pretty black women! ex-haas driver, current aston martin driver!reader. reader is american. seb retires in 2021, fernando is on the grid just not with aston martin. nikita mazepin mention lol. lando norris and george russell get bullied (humor). light british slander. no plot just vibes. pairing: platonic f1 grid x fem!black!driver!reader genre: smau.

from serene: i have a disease and it's called "being unable to make a normal length smau." it's a sickness, idk if i'll ever be abl to fulfill a request without the plot running away from me. anyways, enjoy loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

yn ln signs multi-year contract with aston martin • espn f1 • 2021 post-season

ESPN F1 yn ln has signed a multi-year contract with Aston Martin! The American driver completes the team’s lineup with Lance Stroll. Even though she was an F4, F3, and GP3 Champion, and she won the F2 Championship on her first try with Prema; her F1 career began with unexpected opportunities and last-minute substitutions—becoming a reserve driver for Haas and filling in for Romain Grosjean after his accident in 2020, and then replacing Nikita Mazepin halfway through the 2021 F1 season—an official seat of her own in Formula One was a long time coming and well deserved. Congratulations to yn ln, the first Black woman to race in Formula One!

instagram • yn0 • 2022 pre-season

liked by astonmartinf1, lewishamilton, maxverstappen, sza, and 3,451,967 others

yn0: i have always believed that being an f1 driver would become my reality. it was a never a dream to me because i KNEW i was going to make it here. i’m incredibly thankful to haas for giving my first chance to race in the big league and i will miss all the incredible people who helped me grow and improve while i was there. however, i am extremely grateful and excited to have a seat of my own at aston martin in 2022 and onward. some critics have called me "conceited" to bet on myself, so i made a song just for them < 3

tagged astonmartinf1

view comments

yn0 on sundays, we wear green 💚

➥ user1 you're an inspiration to all women in motorsport, especially women of color 💚💚💚

➥ user2 praying that your aston is quicker than your haas! prove the haters wrong 😤

astonmartinf1: we'll bet on you every race! can't wait to play this in the garage 💚

haasf1team: take care of our songbird 🥲

➥ haasf1team: and keep the tea and honey STOCKED for her vocal cords

➥ user3: i’m gonna cry :(

user4: yeah who paid for her seat? no way she got it off skill. she's never been above p12. f1 has changed for the worse now that a woman's out there. she's a hazard.

➥ user5: incel mindset 😒

➥ user6: bro she was in a haas. reaching p12 in that car is enough of an achievement. better than mazepin ever did, even with his daddy's money 🤷‍♂️

lewishamilton: LFG 💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽 can't wait to see you in the paddock

➥ yn0: lfgggggg 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

➥ yn0: i wouldn't be racing at all if i didn't see you do it first :)

sebastianvettel: prove them all wrong and never apologize for it.

➥ yn0: i learned from the best 🥹 happy retirement, seb!

mickschumacher: "no reason to make friends, i'm cool"??? is that line about somebody else or should i be worried 🤨

➥ maxverstappen: yeah let us know 🙄 your seat on the jet can be revoked

➥ yn0: bros...we all know who it's really about

➥ user8: you can say it's about mazepin nobody will be mad at that 🤗🤗🤗

landonorris: wish it was papaya, but i can't wait to see you in green!

➥ yn0: you know what?i think I CAN wait

➥ yn0: i'm actually going to quit f1 rn i think 😐

➥ user9: lando stop, get some help

lancestroll: hi teammate!

➥ yn0: hi teammate!

➥ user6: oh,,, this is awkward

charlesleclerc: finally 🙌🏻 i thought you would never drop this song

➥ yn0: the music is more important than my f1 seat to you 🙂

➥ charlesleclerc: encore encore encore 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

georgerussell: i would be happy for you if i didn't know this meant you'll be bullying me every race weekend

➥ alexalbon: she smells your fear which makes you an easy target

➥ alexalbon: CONGRATSSS 🥳🥳🥳🥳

➥ yn0: 🤭

instagram • yn0 • 2022

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, megantheestallion, and 2,191,042 others

yn0: thee "cognac queen" learns how to celebrate their FIRST EVER f1 points in italy with their honorary prince 🇮🇹 im in my gacccc, i wanna danceeee, come get yo man, come getcho maaaannnnn 🍾🍾🍾

tagged charlesleclerc

view comments

user10: WOOOOOAH WHATS ABOUT TO PLAY 😳

➥ user11: she PUT IT ON HIM last night apparently 🫣

➥ user12: he calling her BACK TO BACK????

astonmartinf1: you only win first points once but you only have one liver. please show up to the paddock next week 🥴

➥ yn0: don't worry admin i'll be there bright and early!

➥ user13: drink responsibly kids alcohol poisoning is not fun

➥ user14: aston martin shouldn't stress. it sounds like charles took very good care of her 😏😏😏

user15: i feel like i shouldn't be allowed to watch that video (i'm 23)

➥ user16: they were having a tiiiiiiiiime out in italy 🫦

➥ user17: if she was all over me like she was on charles i would be asking about marriage. he's so much stronger than i am 🙂‍↔️

charlesleclerc: went courvoisier crazyyyy

➥ charlesleclerc: je suis très fière de toi (i'm very proud of you) ❤️

➥ yn0: thank you charlieee (for the mv too x) 😚

➥ user18: oh so she really got charles thinking that he's her man???

➥ user19: you were DOGGING it? i didn’t know charles had it in him 🐶🐶🐶

user20: ew this is gross. charles is in a happy relationship and we're all going to pretend like yn isn't a homewrecker???

➥ user21: i was waiting to see this comment! this is like proof she used her body to get on the grid 👀

mickschumacher: no way you put charles in a video before me...i thought we were locked in 😞

➥ yn0: mick be so for real. you hate cognac :(

➥ user22: mick said we suffered through haas together and you already forgot about me

landonorris: are you looking for a cognac king?

➥ alexalbon: boys point and laugh 🫵🏼🤣

➥ charlesleclerc: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ maxverstappen: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ georgerussell: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ mickschumacher: 🫵🏻🤣🤣🤣💀

➥ user23: 🫵🏾🤣

lewishamilton: xnda feature when you make it on the podium

➥ yn0: i'll be up there next week.

➥ user24: bring back xnda girl !!! for all of us 🙇🏽‍♀️

instagram • yn0 • 2022

liked by alexalbon, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen, sza, and 4,233,761 others

yn0: my girl is my girl, is your girl, heard that's his girl too...he's like 9 to 5, i'm "the weekend"

tagged alexalbon, lilymhe

view comments

astonmartinf1: highest race finish of your career can you drop a fire song to celebrate 🥵

➥ lancestroll: team karaoke when????

➥ yn0: make it happen and i will show out for y'all 💯

user25: this video was funny af! my favorite song from you so far 😁

➥ user26: yessss i was not expecting her to flip the song in the video like that 🤌🏻💋

➥ user27: the premise of her and alex fighting over lily was perfect 👌🏽

lilymhe: make me lose my mind every weekend 😮‍💨

➥ alexalbon: you take wednesday thurday 🧎🏼‍♂️‍➡️

➥ yn0: then just send her my wayyyyy 🤤

➥ user28: think i got it covered for the weekend 🎤🎶

landonorris: i'm available any day of the week with no other commitments blocking my schedule ☺️

➥ georgerussell: mate this is embarrasing

➥ mickschumacer: lando no wins & no rizz what a shame 😒

➥ user29: MICK CHILLLLL ⁉️⁉️

➥ user30: whatdidhedo to deserve that calm downnnn

➥ charlesleclerc: lando please just listen to the song like everybody else this is painful to see 😣

maxverstappen: you laced this song with something addictive

➥ schecoperez: i hear it on repeat through the wall he is not lying

➥ user31: yn ln gives you wings 🤪

user32: just because lily was in the video and yn made the focus of the song about her doesn't mean that the orginal song is okay? it's not like she stopped singing about being a side chick.

➥ user33: no, it literally IS okay. because lily and alex both said they made the song with her and were happy to be in the video 🙂

➥ user34: i don't know, lily agreeing to the video makes me dislike her

➥ user35: yeah this song was a miss not a good message at all

instagram • danica patrick • 2022

liked by 10,764 others

danicapatrick: “This past weekend the Aston Martin F1 crew celebrated yn’s P5 finish track side and, honestly, that was unnecessary. It’s not like she managed to reach the podium and personally, I feel like she doesn’t take F1 seriously. I mean, it seems like she spends more time making explicit songs than she does preparing for a race weekend. Her little songs are a distraction to the men on the grid and she appears as a promiscuous, immature, and unfocused girl. She’s not the formula one standard, in my opinion.”

I discuss yn ln’s career in the new episode of my podcast, Pretty Intense! Click the link in my bio to hear it all!

tagged prettyintensebydanica

view comments

user36: ms. patrick are you familiar with the idea of having a hobby 🤔

nicorosberg: how are you qualified to be an expert on sky sports?

user37: woman who's never raced in f1 gives her unsolicited opinion on the only black woman to race in f1 😂

user38: danica this screams jealousy girl

user39: nothing is worse than hearing a fellow girl hate like a man smh

user40: "her little songs" disrespectful as hell don't forget one of them charted on billboard's top 10 😤

user41: SHE GOT P5 IN AN ASTON MARTIN how is that not taking f1 seriously????

user42: if her songs were a distraction to the men on the grid aren't they the ones who should be described as unfocused🤫

➥ user42: anyways, yn would be doing us a favor. maybe max wouldn't win as many races if that were the case

instagram • yn0 • 2022 post-season

liked by dominicfike, keithpowers, tchalamet, summerwalker, and 7,988,531 others

yn0: "girls need love," too.

view comments

user43: OH MY GOD the drought is over 😭😭😭

➥ user44: i thought we'd never get another song after the hate she was getting for it 😫

michaelbjordan: are you interested in a private studio session?

➥ landonorris: she don't want u lil bro 🤣

➥ user45: yn's pulling with three photo's and a song,,,teach me your ways

astonmartinf1: the spine tattoo 😍 good choice to get it during the off-season 💚

➥ user46: i misjudged you aston... i thought y'all told her to stop making music glad to see the support is still there :)

mickschumacher: let’s go get some gelato?

➥ yn0: as long as you don’t snitch to my trainer 😚

➥ mickschumacher: i’ll pick you up 😇

➥ landonorris: imma bout to crash TF out ong 💢💢

patriciooward: there's a spot on my side of the garage whenever you want to watch an indycar race

➥ landonorris: oh wow is this really what we're doing pato 😐

➥ user47: the tension in this comment section scares me

jjetas2: if you're near minnesota one day fall through

➥ landonorris: win a superbowl first 🥱😴

➥ user48: LANDO you haven't won a race or a championship either 😭

judebellingham: have you gotten any better at football since the last time we spoke?

➥ landonorris: knew i supported man united for a reason 😒

lore_musetti: call me if you want a real italian to give you a tour of italy x

➥ landonorris: didn't know an italian could disrespect charles like that honestly 🤨

➥ user49: 💀💀💀

instagram • yn0 • 2023

liked by georgerussell, mickschumacher, megantheestallion, and 4,178,063 others

yn0: japanese nightlife captured in my new music video “mamushi” !!! thank uuu yuki-san for being my tour guide 💋💋💋💋💋💋

tagged yukitsunoda

view comments

georgerussell: i quite enjoy this song 😌

➥ alexalbon: bro what

➥ yn0: tEa aND cRuMPets SConEs AnD biScUIts 💂🇬🇧

charlesleclerc: triple platinum in my house rn ⭐️⭐️⭐️

➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i'm responsible for at least a million views on my own 🥱

➥ yn0: 💚💚💚💚💚

user50: at least we know that yn and yuki can qualify for formula drift if they ever lose their f1 seat

➥ user51: 95% of the driving they were doing in that video looked illegal (but fun asl i'm not a buzzkill)

➥ user52: she's a bad influence on yuki 🙄

➥ user53: i don't think you're familiar with yuki tsunoda at all @/user52

maxverstappen: yeah the song is catchy; where's mine 🥱

➥ yn0: damn you're gonna win a third championship this year and you want a song too 😱

➥ yn0: just big and greedy fr 😒

➥ user54: big back attitude

➥ user55: like sheesh leave something for the rest of us 🤯

user50: gets p3 in suzuka driving an aston 🗿-> shrugs when asked how she did it 🗿 -> makes a banger mv in japan with yuki 🗿 -> refuses to elaborate 🗿

pierregasly: yuki explain your behavior in this video

➥ yukitsunoda: no 🤗

➥ user56: maybe he would've told you if you stayed at alphatauri

➥ user57: now you're in an alpine 🫵🏻😭

instagram • yn0 • 2023 post-season

liked by charlesleclerc, logansargeant, glorillathepimp, and 9,337,272 others

yn0: he don't "wanna be" saved don't save him 🤫

tagged maxverstappen

view comments

yn0: i don't need insurance cause a bitch CAN'T WRECK ME

➥ user58: no like she's never been in a crash her entire f1 career 🤓

➥ user59: she's untouchable srs

logansargeant: WHITE BOY WASTED CHANNING TATUM

➥ yn0: hoes love me like justin bieber 👅👅👅

user60: omg an old picture from yn's haas era when max's redbull wasn't a rocket ship 😩

➥ haasf1team: good times

➥ astonmartinf1: 💚💚💚

maxverstappen: you graduated from the max verstappen school of being unstoppable 😼

➥ charlesleclerc: austria 2022

➥ georgerussell: brazil 2022

➥ mickschumacher: my dad’s 7 championships

➥ alexalbon: i have nothing to add (literally)

➥ maxverstappen: out of the five of us we have three total world championships and they're all mine 😐

glorillathepimp: go yn 🥵

➥ yn0: get it glo 👅

➥ user61: i am no better than a man

➥ user62: i want this video tattooed on my eyelids

mickschumacher: i don't wanna be saved don't save me

➥ yn0: on gang 🤞🏾🔒🙅🏾‍♀️

kellypiquet: twenty missed calls...

➥ yn0: i would like to initiate a trade! i offer: max :) in return i receive: my twin p 🤲🏾

➥ kellypiquet: i will have a bag packed for her TONIGHT

➥ user63: kelly definitely won in that trade agreement! a childfree night??? sign me the fuck up ‼️

user64: i didn't think it was possible but this song is the worst thing she's ever made 😂

➥ user65: it's weird. max is in a committed relationship with a woman and has bonded with her kid. yn's getting involved with him when she shouldn't be 🤷‍♀️

➥ user66: girl she's been around since wayyyy before kelly as max's friend.

➥ user67: she forced max into friendship when they were karting back when he thought he couldn't have racing friends🥺

➥ user66: trauma bonded besties fr

sky sports f1 • 2024 testing

instagram • yn0 • 2024

liked by natalie_pinkham, danielricciardo, laybankz and 5,438,023 others

yn0: (my honest reaction when the internet can't stop talking shit about me) can't i make fun music videos without being called a homewrecker or a whore? sometimes "girls just wanna" f1 !

view comments

user68: no bc she makes hot girl music and y'all dont appreciate it 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️

➥ user69: if you don't like her music you're not a baddie i don't make the rules 🙅🏻‍♀️

user70: did she just make the song of the summer 😱😵‍💫☠️

➥ user71: song of the YEAR !!! and people calling her a whore smh

landonorris: what if you make an mv with me and instead of being called a whore i call you my girlfriend?

➥ mickschumacher: corny. delete your account 🚮

➥ user72: i disagree with mick, he ate that up imo 👀

➥ user73: isn't he messing around with that model/actress though…

➥ user74: you mean m*gui lol

➥ yn0: who's that

➥ user74: lando's recent sneaky link or gf i thought

➥ yn0: oh

charlesleclerc: if i were to call you one thing it would not be homewrecker or whore ✊🏻

➥ charlesleclerc: it would be hit-maker because you DO NOT MISS 😩

➥ alexalbon: one could even call her the 🐐

➥ georgerussell: grammy caliber artist

➥ maxverstappen: they compare her to lebron and simone biles in discussion of being the greatest of all time 😌

➥ yn0: just yesterday y'all said i give slut energy (affectionately) 😕

➥ maxverstappen: many things can be true at the same time

➥ charlesleclerc: false ‼️ accusations

sabrinacarpenter: girls just wanna have fun 😋

➥ user75: OMG sabrina what are you doing here

➥ user76: what in the disney channel crossover episode is going on

imessage • yn -> lando

instagram • yn0 • 2024

liked by mclaren, mickschumacher, lewishamilton, laybankz, and 8,765,392 others

yn0: dropping the "tell ur girlfriend" video tonight as celebration for lando's first win (me next please!) i DO NOT codone cheating but the song is too hard for me to pretend like it's not a banger 🤪

tagged landonorris

view comments

landonorris: you look good in papaya 🧡🧡🧡

➥ astonmartinf1: it's a little too much for our tastes 🤢

➥ yn0: i look good in any color but i do happen to prefer green 💚

➥ user77: i think lando's on to smth w the orange tho 🤔

landonorris: that's my girlfriend !!!!

➥ yn0: NO I AM NOT ❌❌❌

➥ yn0: WE WERE ACTING IN THIS MUSIC VIDEO

➥ yn0: LANDO I WILL SUE YOU FOR DEFAMATION 🤬

➥ landonorris: i'll wait for you 😔

➥ mickschumacher: she's so uninterested in you mate 🙃

user78: he gets his first win and a yn ln music video i know he's on cloud nine 😭😭😭

➥ user79: lando how does it feel to be living my dream 😩

oscarpiastri: oh thank god maybe he'll stop talking about you nonstop now that he got a video 🙏🏻

➥ landonorris: bro delete this comment

➥ user80: i screenshotted it too late 🫡

user81: she doesn't condone cheating but makes a song promoting it anyways 😑

➥ user82: she doesn't condone cheating but messes with lando even though she knows he's taken by magui 😑

➥ user83: she doesn't condone cheating but makes a song about it because it sounds fucking fire 🫦👅🔥🔥🔥

alexalbon: great video too much lando for me 😪

➥ georgerussell: he really just ruined the vibe

➥ charlesleclerc: y'all just mad you haven't been in one of her videos yet 🙂‍↔️

➥ maxverstappen: i don't see how you can hate from outside of the club 🤷🏼‍♂️

➥ landonorris: you can't even get in 🫵🏻🤣

twitter • yn0

instagram • yn -> the day ones

instagram • yn0 • 2024 post-season

liked by maxverstappen, fernandoalonso, zhouguanyu24, kaliii and 12,779,436 others

yn0: hoes mad about my roster being INTERNATIONAL smh stay mad and watch the music video for "area codes" it features all the men (my FRIENDS ✨) you'll never have a chance with 😇😚🤗🤭🤤💚💚💚

tagged f1

view comments

user84: no xnda feature but she got lewis in the fucking video

user85: i just wannna know hwo the fuck she got checo to be in the video 💀

user86: idc what the haters say: she just said y'all have no motion, no aura, no bitches and what are you gonna do about it 😳😳😱

user89: she got lando and mick in a photo together??? how they've been beefing in her comments for years 😧

➥ user90: can't believe im saying this but esteban did not deserve to be punished like that 😬

georgerussell: i am the one feeding her pasta and lobster btw

➥ yn0: you don't send me money tho :(

➥ georgerussell: you are an f1 driver too you don't need my money 🧐

charlesleclerc: can you leave some talent for the rest of us 😒

➥ yn0: bro u are mozart on your days off be serious

lilymhe: cause why are u never in town 😞

➥ alexalbon: cause she'll steal you from me 😭😫

➥ yn0: i'm pulling up rn lils 🫦

lewishamilton: you want a mercedes or a xnda feature?

➥ yn0: im tryna take the mercedes seat you left behind 👀

➥ user91: omfg toto sign herrrrrrrr ✍️

maxverstappen: anything for my favorite lady 🙇🏼🧎🏼‍♂️

➥ yn0: i gotta go they just lmk that i could pick up my mercedes 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

user92: lando in two photos? sus

➥ landonorris: you said it not me 🤫

➥ mickschumacher: bro you acted like her shadow the entire night don't let it go to your head ��

fernandoalonso: very fun song!

➥ user93: you too old to be doin all that fernando :/

➥ user94: literally choked when i saw him in the video

logansargeant: hey you did manage to get me in "one of your little music videos" 🤭

➥ yn0: if only they knew that you agreed with a bribe of two zebra cakes

➥ user95: they couldn't fathom the delicacy that is a zebra cake 🤤

yn0: stop pretending to dislike my songs and realize that the boys are my homies. you'll be a lot happier when you come to terms with that 🥱

© httpsserene 2024

[v1x3n]

REUNITE! ── ripped apart.

♯ PAIRINGS - john price x falsely accused reader x 141

♯ SYNOPSIS - tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out.

♯ TAGS - angst - mentions of torture, panic attacks and breakdowns.

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Days go by, long fucking days where you're practically stuck in this bed. You could get up and walk around but you didn't want to. You stared at the ceiling, kind of hoping it would fall down on you but it never came. Your face stuck in the same position for hours as you melted into the bare sheets of the hospital bed. A singular tear pricks down your cheek while you look towards the dying flowers that sit on your bedside table.

"Hi honey!" Your nurse walks into your room with some food clumped on the plate. You glance up at her with weak eyes. She places the food on your bedside table. Glancing at the withered flowers, she sighs. "They been in here recently?" Jane asks with a hint of disappointment. Your head shakes, not really wanting to even think about or even talk about them, let alone speak to them. "Listen, I know what they did to you was terrible and you probably never want to open that wound but-"

When you scoff and look away after the 'but', she continues talking. "...You should talk to someone about it. I'm not asking you to talk to them. Because god knows I wouldn't even look at them, but you should see a therapist. You do need one and you can't keep pushing away everyone who wants you to get better." Jane's sweet smile makes you acknowledge that there are nice people in this world.

"I-I uhm- I was forced to go to a session like within the first week of being here but they just..." you trail off, looking towards the flowers that had lost nearly all their life. Huh, you never thought you could relate to flowers.

"I understand, I do." She gently puts her hands on your knee. This time you don't flinch though. This time, memories didn't flash through your eyes - forcing you to relive the horrible things those fucking four put you through. This time, it was peaceful, it was comforting. "You should still give it another go, after what you went through - you need someone safe." Your nurse's thumb rubs against your knee as she speaks.

You take in her words, the lingering feeling of wanting to get better - to heal - stabs at your heart but you also wanted to show those fucking horrible four that this is what they fucking did to you. Not wanting to waste time getting better, if you even could, you knew deep down you'd always hurt. You wouldn't be able to trust anyone again - especially a man. What they did to you tore you apart.

So, you shrugged off your nurse's words before she let you be, to eat your hospital food. The slop slumped onto the plate looked so disgusting. The sandwich that you could tell would stick to the roof of your mouth was unappetizing. Honestly the food there made you less hungry. After sighing and shoving the meal to the bedside table, pushing the dead flowers off the wood so they splattered all over the floor. The hard floor was littered with wilted petals and the dark, pale green stems.

So here you are. Sat in another white fucking room, except there wasn't a lonely bed or flowers scattered across the floor. There were two cream couches and a massive window. And a woman wearing a tight pair of trousers, a white blouse with a blazer swept over the couch she was sitting on top of. The girl was holding a clipboard with text filling the papers. Her hair was straight and was neatly brushed - the total opposite of you. “Ah, y/n? Right? You can call me Jones." she smiled as you came into her viewline. You nod nervously as you swipe down on your little gown the hospital gave you. 

Multiple panic attacks. Your body was in pain. The wounds that litter your body - not to be healed ever again. Your 8 fingers that trailed over the stitched up cut across your cheek. The breakdown you had just a week ago. How you flinch when anyone (but Jane) gets close.

All of that flashes through your head while you sit opposite the women. "You're quite famous, you know?” the woman states. You tilt your head towards the left. 

“Oh?” you hum, looking around the room, clearly avoiding eye contact. She scribbles something quick onto a clean bit of paper, the one with text flopped over the top of the clipboard. “Heard about your ‘story’ a lot, from a lot of different people.” You slump against the sofa. Feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingertips. “Oh.” mumbling when your eyes finally meet hers for the first time. Her blue eyes connect with yours. A deep passion for helping was buried in her eyes. You could tell. 

“I haven't heard the story from the person who went through it all though.” Jones looks down at her clipboard, “why don't you tell me about it? How are you feeling?”

“What's there to tell?" you scoff. Sweat starts pouring from your forehead so you pull an arm that was littered with healing bruises up across it. Your question was not much of a question, more of a statement. What was there to tell? She knew the story, everyone fucking did. “Let's start with how's your day?” Jones smiled with a hint of amusement when your scoff reached her ears. “Fine.” She raised an eyebrow skeptically at your answer but didn't comment on anything. She leaned forward. Placing her clipboard on the seat beside her. 

Your figit uncomfortably, "that's.. all? Fine?” Jones questions, her voice hinting at suspicion. “Yep.” 

“You know if you aren't honest, I can't help you." 

After burying your head into your hands, you drag your cheek down with your palm as you let out a long sigh, "I'm doing better.” 

“Well that is good to hear,” she coos, reaching for her clipboard and writing down a few words in the margin. “Has anyone visited you lately?” Her question makes you hesitate for a moment. “Like family and friends?” Jones nods whilst leaning back.

Looking around the office you notice the way the woman in front of you tilts her head in the slightest when you shake your head. Her ramblings go on and on but you end up blurring them out. High squeaking forms in your ears, blinding out your therapist talking. 

That's when a loud bang sounds from the door that you entered through. It brings you back to life. You flinch back as the door opens. “Hey Jones, sorry 'm late just got outa trainin’” the blurred man walks through the door, holding tight onto a notebook. His scruffy appearance so familiar.

You wish you didn't have to face him yet.

“Your session is on a Thursday from now on, I told you-” she gets cut off when Johnny drops the book in his hands as he stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth opening slightly as fear shoots through your stomach and heart. The man before you mumbles one quiet word.

 “...Bonnie.”

[8mitsurikanroji8]

𝒦𝓃𝓎 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

ɪɴꜰᴏ : ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰. 𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶. 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦. 𝘔𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 . 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 . 𝘖𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 . 𝘎𝘪𝘺𝘶 . 𝘒𝘺𝘰𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘰 . 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶.

────────────────────────

𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Not obvious at all ?

. He’s a sweatheart to everyone he meets ahem Tanjiro effect?

. Blushes whenever you get close ><

. Would offer moments with you

. “Y/n want to eat together ?” “Y/n want to train together?” “Y/n want to take a stroll” etc

. You think nothing of it but for him his heart beats fast and is comforted by these actions

. Doesn’t realize he has a crush on you

. Just thinks you have an amazing personality that draws him in

. It’s just that, right ?

. He finally gets the hint when you guys were alone on a stroll catching the sunset. He caught himself staring at you while smiling as you stood and watched the sun fall, painting the sky orange

. His face goes RED when he realizes ><

. He turns away trying to calm himself down

. You notice, concerned, you take your hand and put it on his face thinking he has a fever

. Faces is literally fire

. Other than that you don’t really realize his feelings for you as he seems to be the same. Only asking for more time with you and more blushing but your mind waves it off

. Little do you know he stares at you while your mind is adrift thinking

. His heart beats fast and his eyes soften

. Yep. He likes you.

𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Now this one you KNOW [ Sorta ]

. I mean he ask you to marry him only 2 minutes in meeting for the first time

. “YOURE THE PRETTIEST GIRL I HAVE EVER MET. PLEASE MARRY ME!”

. You are dumbfounded with his open admiration

. A little flatter? Yes. Caught off guard ? 100%

. Soon within getting to know him you learn of his lovely dovey personality

. Realizing he is like this with every girl you push aside his comments of marriage and admiration

. I mean he would say that to any one, right ?

. Wrong [ also right tho >< ]

. He would say this to almost every girl he’s met

. But after you ? Oh honey

. You don’t realize how he’s actually fallen for you. Deeply

. Follows you around like a duck

. Someone criticize you [ Even if it’s just critiquing so you know what to work on ]

. That person will not hear the end of it

. “Y/N IS THE BEST PERSON EVER AND IS THE GREATEST DEMON SLAYER SO YOU SHUT UP!”

. Cringey ? Mhm. Cute ? A little.

. If you use sweet words to him [ You mostly say them to everyone tho ] like “honey” “sweetie” “cutie” “sweetheart”

. What color do you want your wedding bouquet?

. He’s planning it all

𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know and neither does he ._.

.”FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW. LETS SEE WHO WINS!”

. That’s something you will never hear the end of

. He has no idea about what a crush is nor love

. He just thinks you’re a good fighter and wants to fight you whenever he can

. And you just think he’s being his normal weird self :)

. You don’t mind it [ usually ]

. He likes to eat with you

. If you both are heading to a mission and forget to pack yourself food

. He will eat his infront of you and say

. “HAHA IDIOT”

. You roll your eyes ignoring him

. Suddenly his food is being shoved down your throat no comment added

. You better not ask about it

. Your ears won’t be able to handle anymore of his yelling blabber

. But you take his action to heart and enjoy it

. His face is a bit pink

. BUT only because his boar head is warm, right ?

. Sureeee ._.

𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Who are you again ?

. Oh right. The one who gives him the hebegebees

. Jkjkjk

. well

. He’s too lost in the clouds to realize his feelings for you or even realize you’re the only one who’s company doesn’t annoy him or pushes away

. And you don’t realize because his vocabulary is just so grand

. “Mhm” “No” “Yes “I believe so” “What did you say?” “I assume” “Could be” “I have no opinion”

. You tag along him to the point where others know

. “Oh there’s Muichiro. Y/n must be near”

. And vice versa

. He doesn’t realize how close together you guys alway are

. When you’re away on a mission he finds himself with a unfamiliar feelings

. Oh you’re back! Never mind the feeling is gone nothing to worry about !

. You just like his character and enjoy spending time with him

. He won’t realize but he thinks the same

. And more ><

. Both of these are unaware to you and him

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Oh boy

. You may be strong both physically and mentally

. You’re enduring both his need to constantly train and his vicious tongue

. You most likely match his adittuide

. Oh he’s got something to say? So do you

. Everyone believes he HATES you

. I mean he does insult you and always wants to fight

. Poor guy doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling

. He didn’t really see romantic love in his childhood

. So he just stuffs those fast heart beat, pink cheeks and fuzzy feeling deep down and try’s to ignore it

. He doesn’t realize but one of the reason he always want to spear with you is because you guys spend close time together

. Also because he’s Sanemi

. And you being you, you don’t mind and take it as another challenge to conquer

𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You talk and he doesn’t

. Perfect match <3

. Here goes another damage one !

. His love language is definitely quality time

. You’re eating ? Under [ or up ] a tree? Simply walking around the garden ?

. Oh look there he is too!

. He definitely catches on to his physical and emotional reactions to you

. And you just thinks you guys are the closets of friends !

. You guys always seem to travel together

. Even in your free time you are found with him strolling around a village together

. Some one insults you?

. You’ll just ignore it and move on

. He doesn’t. Pray for that person.

. Kaburamaru seems to have also found a fondness for you

. He may be jealous of that fact

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know what the others are talking about

. Giyu is lovely to talk to !

. He may be one of your favorite hasira to spend time with ♡

. He’s gentle and kind spoken [ with his little use of words ]

. He pays for your meals no matter how hard you insist and listen to you ramble for hours on end with no sign of annoyence

. Why would the others hate him?

. He’s like this with everyone, right ?

. Oh honey.

. You take these actions as part of his character, while he assume he act this way because of his admiration for you being so nice to him !

. I mean you are one of the few who do talk to him without insult

. It never clicks for him what the feeling really is

. That’s until one day

. [ Shinobu ] “Good evening Tomioka”

. [ Giyu ] “Evening Shinobu”

. [ Shinobu ] “You look as bland and boring as ever. How are you”

. [ Giyu ] *no answer*

. [ Shinobu ] “I must say without your little friend you somehow appear more dull. It is odd to catch a moment with you two apart”

. [ Giyu ] *nothing*

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “It’s almost like you two are in a romantic relationship with how close you are.”

. His heart stops with that comment

. And his brain finally realize the feeling

. I mean he’s never felt this way before ♡

. His eyes trail off and soften, catching Shinobu attention

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “ I was only just kidding. It’s not like someone like Y/n could admire your dull personality”

. Oh. Right.

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. “YOU ARE ONE SKILLED SLAYER” “I ADMIRE YOUR TECHNIQUES” “GREAT JOB” “YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE SKILLS” “WONDERFUL WORK”

. He praises you non stop

. I mean who wouldn’t with your talent !

. You take his compliments as a part of his cheerful personality and respect it

. And maybe take a bit of flattery with it ><

. He does too

. He just admires you skill is all

…….

. He offers to dine with you or take you out to eat

. “Y/N WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME AND DINE WITH ME!?”

. [ You ] “Oh um, sure okay!”

. “SPLENDID, LETS GET ON OUR WAY!”

. He always ask where you are

. Remembers the small things

. You like that color ? Oh look he just bought you a keychain with it. That’s your favorite food? Guess that’s where you guys are eating tonight

. His acts of romantic feelings fly over both of your guys head

. But not to anybody else

. *Kyojuro and you side by side laughing together*

. [ Slayer 1 ] “Are they together?”

. [ Slayer 2 ] “isn’t it obvious ?”

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You guys are actually inspectable

. Always together <3

. She loves your company !

. Mitsuri finds everything about you adorable

. From they way you eat to your fighting techniques

. You make her feel safe ♡

. More touchy with you than others [ expect hugs, face pokes and hand holding when she’s around ]

. She definitely realizes her feelings for you

. She is the love hashira after all

. But she doesn’t act on it afraid you won’t feel the same and forever ruin the relationship you guys already have

. She’s oblivious to the shared love you have for one another

. *Mitsuri thoughts* Oh they just see me as a friend

. Mhm okay ._.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. This one is a slow burn

. Every mission with you she seems to oddly enjoy

. Whenever you walk into her estate she feels a warmth

. Her heart flutters whenever you hug her or compliment her

. Your smile makes her smile

. She always watches you [ not in a creepy way >< ]

. She just finds herself drunk on the way your eyes light up

. Once it hits her why she feel this way poor girl try’s to ignore it

. Afraid to allow herself to get too close in this field of work

. But the heart wants what is wants ♡

. You begin to dine after missions together

. Have light conversation when running into each other

. And occasionally meet ups outside of work

. She compliments you often

. Once you start to spend more time together she will accidentally graze her hand over you thigh or your fingers just to see you reaction

. This girl knows what she’s doing

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A/n

ᴀʜʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ !! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ <3 ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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