#Oriental Shuffle

[andrewdmeyer]

A Few Live Recordings...

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything on here. I’ve been quite busy retooling so to speak. I’ve been focusing my energy on the bari lately. It’s the one saxophone that, until recently I haven’t spent a tremendous amount of time with. Anyway, I’ve been working with my trio, the Bigote Trio, to create a horn-focused version of Gypsy Jazz and in the past that’s meant mostly playing…

[nexusofsorcery]

Mastering The Tarot Yes or No Spread: The Ultimate Guide to Unlocking Answers

In the mystical world of Tarot, the quest for clear, concise answers often leads seekers to the intriguing ‘tarot yes or no’ spread. This simple yet profound layout has become a cornerstone for those looking to find quick guidance in life’s myriad decisions. Whether you’re a seasoned reader or a curious novice, understanding the nuances of the ‘tarot yes no’ spread can transform the way you…

[deathfavor]

head in my hands, i keep thinking of Seiroku to Mambo

[fingertipsmp3]

iOS18 when I fucking get you—

[vividxpages]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ sweet reunion ⋆°. *࿐

pairing: Garrick Tavis x fem!Reader

words: 3.4k

summary: two weeks apart from him have been way too long.

warnings: no plot just porn, lots of cursing, dirty talk, reunion sex, making out, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (they both take the suppressant), Garrick using distance wielding to have sex against a wall, oral sex (female receiving), written during ovulation

a/n: my first fic for Garrick, this man has made me insane ever since Onyx Storm dropped and I needed an outlet. (I think he'd be a FREAK.) I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I have when I wrote it! 🖤 thank you to my sister @still-jon-snow for always listening and being excited and just the best!

.♡ 🦋

It had been fourteen days since you had last kissed Garrick Tavis at the landing site of Riorson House.

Fourteen days since you had last spoken with him, laughed with him, been with him.

Today, the mess in which you had lived for the past two weeks, was going to end. You had kept yourself busy with tidying the room – quite shocked over the discovery that he was the clean one out of the two of you – and training with your friends earlier this morning, trying to shake off the nerves upon the arrival of his unit.

You were growing restless by the time the sun stood high above Tyrrendor, the sight beautiful yet lacking the elegant swing of dragon wings. Everyone had been waiting all day. A control mission, nothing out of the ordinary, everyone kept telling you. You had said nothing, not happy with any of it.

But just as you opted to leave yours and his room to watch the goddamn sky yourself, you heard movement in the corridor, a few commands cutting through the silence in the courtyard.

Oh thank the gods, your dragon’s voice rumbled unimpressed in your mind. I can’t bear another day of you moping around like this

Someone down the hallway outside your door shouted: “They’re back!”

It was the last thing you heard before the air in the room suddenly shifted, the dancing dust particles stiffening in the sun streaming through the windows, making space, fleeing from-

Two heavy leather boots hit the creaking wooden floor, breaking through the otherwise strange silence of his arrival.

- him.

You were up on your feet before you knew it, his large shirt on you pooling around your naked legs as you stared at him, the way he briefly oriented himself around the room, then spun around to face you.

In the blink of an eye, both of you rushed forward and you were lifted effortlessly into the air, both of your legs coming to wrap around his waist as he held you close. You let out a happy laugh near his ear, his arms tightening their hold around you as his hands roamed over you, touching everywhere at once.

“Fuck, how I missed that laugh.” Garrick mumbled deeply, his free hand cupping your cheek and making you look at him. You smiled brightly, placing your hand over his and drinking in the sight of him. Unharmed. Love swirling fiercely in his captivating eyes.

He was home.

You bridged the distance between him and you, kissing him slowly and with relish. Knowing Garrick, these kinds of kisses soon wouldn’t do anymore, at least not to sate the bottomless need inside of him.

He tilted his head to the side, hand sliding into your hair as he snaked his other arm around you. With a small gasp, you came to stand on your tiptoes, busy touching his biceps, his strong shoulders and neck…

Without breaking the kiss, Garrick walked over to the edge of the bed, his tongue licking fire into your mouth as he sat down with you and let his hands travel over your naked thighs. You let out a small sound at the sudden closeness before willing yourself to break away for just a moment.

He stared back at you with heavy breath and half-lidded eyes, his usually pale cheeks now getting some lovely color because of you.

“Everything went okay?” You asked quietly, shuffling forward in his lap so your chests pressed against each other, hearts starting to messily beat in sync once more.

Garrick nodded, tucking back a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand staying on your cheek. “We all couldn’t get back fast enough though.”

You caressed down his muscles as they flexed instinctively underneath your tender touch. Your eyes stayed on his, drowning in the warm hazel tone and the fire burning behind it. As your lips parted with a relieved sigh when he splayed his big hands over your hips now, Garrick tugged you even closer against the heat of his body. His scar, so familiar in the way it ran down his temple and vanished at his stoic jaw, shined silverly, the healed tissue soft and rough at once under your fingertips.

You examined him quietly, counting his exhales and the seconds where more of his patience dissolved into thin air as he did sometimes. No bruises or cuts. He was alright. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the tension having followed you for days making its leave as well.

“I’m okay.” He mumbled under his breath, not missing anything. His thumb brushed over your cheek and the gesture was so loving in this time of unease, it nearly made you cry right then.

But you had missed him, desired him when it became dark outside and the mattress beside you was still empty, and you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“I missed you.” You confessed under your breath, a hungering something in your stomach curling itself tight. “I hate sleeping alone.”

“You don’t have to for a long while, trust me.” Garrick promised confidently and then you were kissing again, all softness from earlier forgotten as he nearly devoured you, needing to familiarize himself again with the feel of your soft lips, the taste of you.

You wound your arms around his strong neck and bucked your hips forward only to make him groan when your core brushed right over his hardness. Fuck.

“You don’t smell like me anymore.” He stated between hurried kisses, his tongue licking over the sensitive spot underneath your ear, making you arch against his tall form. Garrick always knew how to make you melt in just a couple of moments and his impatient nature was only intensifying the need, especially after you had been separated for so long.

You looked at him, a little out of breath, and slowly leaned forward to playfully nip at his bottom lip with your teeth. Not breaking eye-contact, you whispered: “You should change that, Lieutenant.”

He was on you in a split second.

He quickly rose with you in his arms, spinning around and then falling onto the sheets with you. Letting out a squeal at the sudden movement, you had no time to recover as he slid above you and kissed you hard, biting down on your plump bottom lip and pushing his hips forward. The warm riding leathers rubbed over your panties and you groaned. As hot as this was, you needed something else. Something only he could give you.

“Too many clothes.” You gasped against his lips and he hummed in agreement and switched to kissing down your neck, soothingly sucking at your favorite spot all your friends would soon tease you about. “Get the fuck naked, Tavis.”

Sometimes you wondered if his signet came with the power of unnatural speed as well, because within under a minute by far, Garrick had torn away your clothes entirely, leaving you wanting and naked on the bed before him, his eyes travelling lazily over your body as if he suddenly had all the time in the world again.

Lifting his shirt over his head, Garrick took a deep breath as the muscles in his stomach flexed. He was hard through his briefs and subconsciously, you licked your lips.

“Show me.” He said quietly and you spread your legs, presenting the evidence of your desire to him, your hunger a roaring pit in your stomach as you felt yourself drip onto the sheets for him. Your own company hadn’t been enough to fill the hole he left behind when he had to leave.

Garrick slowly licked his lips, eyes staying on your pussy as he crawled forward and finally got rid of his shirt. When he pulled down his briefs, your breath hitched, enticed by his hard dick springing against his abs, deliciously leaking at the tip.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered in awe of you and you beamed at the praise, your back arching into his touch as he drew a circle around your belly button, slowly travelling down… “So fucking wet for me, hm?”

As if to prove his point, he gently pressed your thighs further apart, breathing heavily as he let a trail of spit fall down on your folds, the sudden contact making a nerve in your calf twitch. Finally.

The first touch of his fingertips against your clit set you aflame.

Your hands fisted the sheets, your entire body suddenly helpless underneath his touch as he began to draw slow, wet circles on your most sensitive part, the friction so heavenly you could not help but throw your head back and gasp for air.

“Eyes on me, love.” Garrick commanded calmly and you obeyed, every cell in your body needing to please him, to be loved and adored by him.

A needy whimper left your lips as he kept rubbing you and you writhed against the bedding, willing to let him play with you however he wanted if you only got to come soon, or even better -  have him inside of you again. He bit his lip, an approving rumble going through his chest as you bucked your hips into his touch.

“Garrick…” You breathed longingly as he fisted his weeping cock, his thumb stroking your clit in adoration as his other fingers swept through your wetness. “Please.”

“Shh, just a moment longer.” He said, transfixed and uncharacteristically patient as he slowly eased a finger inside of your hot pussy, the tightness and warmth of your walls making his dick twitch. You reached out in an attempt to jerk him off, but midair you froze and you nearly forgot yourself as he suddenly curled his digit upwards.

“Have you touched yourself while I was gone?” He asked curiously and you almost managed to roll your eyes on him before the first was quickly joined by another finger and you groaned at the pleasurepain of it.

“Have you?” You managed to bite back, instantly rewarded by his beautiful low laughter.

“Baby…” His thumb brushed over your sensitive folds and clit, the other hand soothingly stroking your thighs. “Just about every night, you know?”

Gods, how he pleased you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so well.” Garrick promised huskily, a smug grin taking over his face at the filthy sounds your pussy made as he fingered you.

“Then do it.” You gasped, shivering as he scissored his digits once more before he pulled them out, a string of your wetness following him as if a part of you just couldn’t let him go this easily. “I need you to fuck me. Now, Garrick.”

“Such an attitude.” Garrick grinned, shaking his head as if he didn’t love every fucking second of this. His girl, soaked and trembling under him, the scent of her welcoming heat clouding every rationality in his mind.

You held on to his broad shoulders as he lowered himself down on you, his hips resting snugly between your thighs and for a moment, it was quiet and good and you finally felt whole again.

You moaned shakingly in union with him, briefly biting down on his collarbone as he eased inside of you, inch by inch until your thighs were already shaking and his hips were cradled warmly between your thighs. Garrick grunted, resting his forehead between your tits, his breath fanning over the warm skin and making it break out in pleased shivers. The strong arms resting at your sides were trembling slightly.

“Fucking hell.” He cursed, his tongue swirling around one of your aching buds before he looked at you awe-struck, not knowing how the hell he deserved to return to a heavenly woman like you. “’s been way too long…”

Your muscles flexed around him and he groaned, cock twitching inside of you. In a breathless whisper, you protested: “You’ve only been gone for two weeks.” Now you were challenging your luck.

“Two weeks too long, baby.” He muttered seriously before he caught your mouth in a hot and messy kiss, your moan swallowed by him as he pressed forward once again and then slowly pulled back, just to slowly fuck into you again when your head dropped helplessly onto his pillow.

Garrick rolled his hips, building up an intoxicating rhythm as you shook, your neglected pussy overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of it, of feeling him inside of you when you had to put up with your own fingers for the last days when the longing had become too much.

“Fuck baby, you’re gripping me so tightly…really missed me, huh?” He smiled at you brightly and if he hadn’t been balls deep inside of you right then, dragging his dick just right against your walls, you might’ve slapped him playfully.

“Don’t get cocky now.” Gods, you sounded ruined already and you knew he had not even started with you.

He grinned down at you, relishing the little twin pains in his shoulder blades where you held on to him tightly, still at his mercy while he oh so slowly fucked you. Garrick winked before he looked down to where his cock was sliding out of you, the sounds slippery and absolutely filthy as he used your puffy cunt to lube himself up more before he pushed back in. “Too late, hm?”

You glared at him, purposefully flexing around him and throwing your legs around his waist, causing him to plunge deeper inside of you. Garrick gasped in surprise but quickly regained his posture of confidence as he leaned down to kiss your chest, beginning to fuck you in earnest now.

The change was so sudden, it nearly gave you whiplash.

You were so wet, he could easily pound into you, his arms caging you in as his hips met yours. You bit back a scream as he lifted your bum from the mattress, holding on to him for dear life and then suddenly, the air split in two and-

- he suddenly stood with you in his arms, adjusting his grip on your thighs. You blinked at him in a second of confusion, peeking over his shoulder to see the abandoned messy bed where you two had just laid.

Garrick had wielded the distance. With you.

And he was still very much inside of you.

Your naked back hit the wall behind you and he bent his knees just slightly, the new angle making the delicious curve of his cock dragged over your sweet spot. You moaned loudly, the back of your head hitting the wall as he stared at you like you were his own personal goddess.

“Better.” He decided and lifted you, only to push you down onto his cock again. As if you weighed nothing in his arms, he resumed to fucking you once again, his thrusts sharp and passionate, lacking the patience from earlier and gaining more wildness with every push and pull.

You could do nothing but hold on to him as he fucked you, your high moans swallowed by his deep kisses when he wasn’t busy with ravishing your bared neck. He seemed to be everywhere at once, insatiable in his want for you.

Your nails raked down his muscular back and he moaned right into your mouth, utterly consumed by the feel of you as he rocked into you like it’d be the last time in his life. And you met him with each thrust, rolling your hips and feeling the mouth-watering friction of his abdomen against your clit every time.

“Come on, come on.” You urged him on raspily, sensing the familiar stutter in his rhythm, the way his fingers in your hair trembled. “I know you’re close, I’m right there with you. Let go, Gar…”

With a final shout, Garrick buried his face in your neck and released deep inside of you and as he reached down to touch you, you followed him right over the edge with a scream, your orgasm crashing over you like a thunderstorm.

Feeling the warmth of his come within you, your eyes fluttered closed as you both breathed in sync, unwilling to part yet as Garrick held you close like he never wanted to let go again.

“So perfect…” He mumbled against your skin and you giggled happily and drunk on pleasure.

You slumped down against him, trusting him blindly to catch you and he did. His strong arms held you close against his chest as his heavy exhales tickled the top of your head. You were boneless, completely happy and done with the world as long as your man held you and a sigh so wholly satisfied left your lips, it almost felt blasphemous.

A heaviness seeped into your body, but just as you wanted to hug Garrick and let yourself be carried to bed, he drew back. You whined, displeased as he slipped out of you, not understanding.

“Uh-uh, I’m not done with you yet.” He said with a simple shake of his head and slid down, his hands placing your bum back against the wall, one of them sliding underneath your thigh and lifting until he rested one of your shaky legs over his shoulder.

He got down on his knees.

“Garrick-“ Your eyes widened at the realization of what was about to occur, but it seemed like they hadn’t fed the returning soldiers at Riorson House yet. Because in the next second, Garrick was surging forward, moaning deeply as he buried his face in your pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice nearly catapulting you into the next life.

You slammed your hand over your mouth, shrieking as he licked into you, his tongue dragging your combined releases over your spread folds before he suckled hard at your clit. He was all that held you up, his strength enough for the two of you as he devoured you without any saturation in sight.

Your hand was ripped away from your mouth and then, his glistening lips brushed over your knuckles, his eyes holding you captive as he slowly shook his head. “Let me hear you.”

Your answer was a broken moan, close to a blissful sob as he kissed and licked at you like his life depended on it, eager to taste every drop until you’d shatter underneath his skilled tongue.

“Fuck, Garrick-”

“Give me everything, baby.” He praised you, his hot breath fanning over your throbbing overstimulated clit for a moment as you panted and clawed at his shoulders in an attempt to try and keep up with him. “Such a good fucking girl, I missed you so much…”

“-missed you.” You gasped, twitching in his hold as he laid his tongue flat on you and licked a fat stripe upwards. And did it again and again.

A scorching heat tore through your stomach and it shouldn’t have been possible, but you were already there again, almost ready to jump over the cliff he had been leading you to.

Garrick, sensing your nearing release, looked up at you, his tongue still dancing around your clit as he laced your hands together and placed them both on the wall behind you.

“Every second I’m apart from you is still filled with you.” He vowed. “I love you.”

With one last stroke against you, you shattered apart. Unable to hold you up anymore, your legs gave in and Garrick caught you and pulled you against his chest as your second orgasm tore through you violently. His hands around your waist would likely leave marks later as you panted against his throat, trying to breathe through the last waves of pleasure rushing through you.

“Easy, love.” He murmured, peppering soft kisses over your temple, the top of your head and nose as you slowly calmed down. Garrick was so warm, a human furnace of a man, you felt your eyelids droop almost immediately, the position in his lap way too comfy to want to get up and clean yourself.

“I love you too…” You told him quietly, snuggling into his chest and relishing the closeness you had missed so dearly. You kissed his chest, right over his pounding, love-struck heart as he smiled warmly at you. “Welcome back.”

The sunbeams streaming in through the windows caressed the two of you, quietly laughing with each other and finally, reunited again.

[mead-iocre]

Lover Girl | Leah Williamson x Spolied!Reader

synopsis: you might be spending valentines day alone

warnings: a veryyyyy spoiled girl <///3

word count: 3.5k

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

Picking at your nails, perfectly filed into almond-shaped, and painted in your favourite sheer blush pink colour, you frown. You hate the sight of your cuticles growing in. Looks like you are due for an appointment soon. You mentally remind yourself to give your favourite salon a call. 

Your girlfriend sighs over the phone. The screen blurs for a moment before you hear shuffling, sheets rustling. She was probably making herself comfortable in bed. The sight annoys you. Your girlfriend should be getting ready for bed beside you, in your shared bed, slipping into sheets made for two. 

Soon her face pops back up on the screen. Her back was propped up against the headboard, and she’s turned on the lamp beside the bed letting you see her face a little clearer. 

The sight also annoys you. 

Her stupid face should be right beside you. Not in some hotel room, not a whole plane ride away. 

“Quit frowning, baby” Leah breaks the brief silence. You don’t say anything, the frown on your face deepening, your eyebrows furrowing. “You’ll get wrinkles”

You relax your face immediately. 

“But you promised, Lee” You whine, thumping at the empty space on the bed beside you. “You said we’ll be spending Valentines Day together”

“I know, princess” She chides, her voice gentle. “but it’s a bit mental out here— almost all the flights at the airport are delayed”

You don’t relent. “So rent a private charter then” 

Your girlfriend chuckles, low and throaty, even though you don’t find anything funny right now. She rubs a hand over her face. “Baby, private jets have to follow the no-fly rules too”

You roll your eyes, audibly huffing at the absurdity of the situation. Did Mother Nature seriously expect you— YOU— the epitome of a lover girl, to spend Valentines day alone?!

Valentines Day was one of your favourite holidays. Top 3, actually. For a a girl whose heart beats in soft, rhythmic thumps; your world is bathed soft candlelights, scattered rose petals, and heart-shaped everything— you were the embodiment of romance. You believe in love like others believe in the stars.

And, oh, the way you give love—it’s like generosity flows from an endless river of affection. You love hosting intimate dinners with Leah’s teammates, and cosy brunches with close friends, complete with your Ginori 1735 Oriente Italiano pink porcelain tableware imported from Italy. You love writing handwritten notes, sealed with a pearly pink wax and kissed with a custom wax seal stamp with your signature. 

When you love, you love deeply. 

And that’s why it pains Leah to not be with you on one of your favourite days of the year. 

“I’m sorry, baby” Your girlfriend croons over the phone, the shitty signal of the hotel room only making the distance between you more obvious. “I’ll make it up to you next year, okay?”

She continues, “We’ll take a week-long trip so we can spend Valentines Day on a beach somewhere…."

You hum in response, nodding—albeit reluctantly. You heard what she was saying but you were still sad. It wasn’t your girlfriend’s fault that the weather was so bad that it made for unfavourable flying conditions. It wasn’t your girlfriend’s fault that she was currently stuck in a hotel room, instead of at home with you.

But that didn’t mean you had to like it. 

She tries to lighten the mood. “You still didn’t tell me how your day went. Did you—“

You cut her off. “Actually, Lee, I’m a bit tired. I think I might head to bed”

Now it was her turn to frown, her brow furrowing as she absorbed your dismissal. The screen flickered slightly, casting a soft glow on her face, but her expression was anything but relaxed. Her lips tightened, eyes narrowed in thought. Her fingers absently ran through her hair, her posture stiff. She bit her lip, clearly processing, before she cleared her throat. 

“Oh. okay, baby” She looked like she wanted to say something else, her mouth opening once before she closes it abruptly. “Yeah, yeah I’m sure you must be tired”

You rarely ended your FaceTime calls together early. If anything, you could probably count the number of times you had ended your calls early before the usual, drawn-out goodbyes on one hand. Tonight was getting added to that tally. The usual warmth in the conversation had faded, replaced by a quiet tension. You found yourself glancing at the clock, then back at her face on the screen, unsure of how to fill the growing silence.

You hated doing this to her, so you gave her this one thing. With a tight-lipped smile that barely reaches your eyes, you mumble a quiet “Night. I love you”

She mirrors your expression, although you can see the regret swimming in her eyes. Her gaze drops briefly, as if she’s trying to avoid the weight of what’s unsaid. “Goodnight. I love you. Call me tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“We’ll see. Maybe the storm will ruin that too”

Her mouth drops open at your unexpected sass. You were rarely mouthy, always so pliant and have to go along with the flow of things. “Oi, enough with the storm—“ 

End call. 

Throwing your phone to the empty space beside you, you huff audibly as you turn to fluff your 25 momme mulberry silk pillow. 

Ping. 

Ping. 

Ping. 

You ignore your phone, the glaring, physical reminder that your girlfriend is thousands of miles away. Burying your head under one of your pillows, you will yourself to sleep. Maybe it would hurt less if you stopped thinking about how you will be spending tomorrow lover-less and alone. 

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

You awoke slowly, the rays of morning sun filtering through the sheer curtains. Shifting beneath the covers, your body was still wrapped in warmth, but a strange heaviness settled on your chest. Blinking your eyes open, you let them adjust to the morning light. 

Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you hope for a message, a call, something—a sweet "Happy Valentine’s" from her. 

But the screen is dark. 

Your heart sinks just a little, and you slide it closer, hoping it will come to life, but it doesn’t.

She was probably still asleep. London was five hours ahead anyway. 

The bed beside you is empty, untouched. The space where she should be feels painfully cold. You sit up slowly, the soft sheets slipping away from your body as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. Your feet touch the cool marble floor until you slip your feet into your favourite shearling slippers. Standing, you moving across the room with graceful steps, but slightly sluggish in movement. The softness of your pale pink lace nightgown, vintage Dior piece, swirl around your legs as you walk. There was no rush, no excitement. 

You walk toward the window, parting the curtains with delicate fingers, letting the morning light fill the room. You glance out at the London streets below, alive with the usual bustle. The city may be awake, but you feel like you’re in another world entirely—one that’s quieter, lonelier.

Your gaze drifts to the gifts on the coffee table— her favourite Lindt chocolates, a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers, a new watch gift wrapped in the familiar red and gold signature packaging, and a handwritten card filled with love. None of it feels as special without her. The love you’d hoped would fill the day feels miles away, even though she’s only a flight away.

You turn away from the window, and sit back on the bed. The silk sheets cool against your skin as you sink into them. You had spent weeks preparing for today—perfectly arranging the flowers that filled the flat with the soft scent of roses, every corner was filled with heart-shaped balloons and seasonal candles made special for the occasion. You had even bought a new dress for the holiday: a velvet dress in the deepest shade of rose, paired with diamond earrings that costed a pretty penny. 

Leah’s pennies, of course.

Your mind wandered back to the night when you had last seen her off at the private airport lounge, waving goodbye as your girlfriend boarded the plane. "I’ll be back soon, baby," she'd promised, her voice soft and sincere. 

Clearly that was not the case, you thought bitterly as you moved to start your day. 

You went through the motions of the day, trying to fill the empty spaces with something—anything—that will take your mind off the feeling that lingers. Luckily, you were able book a last minute slot with your personal pilates instructor, so you slip into your workout clothes, a soft pink set that hugs your body. The fabric feels cool against your skin as you pull your hair into a neat ponytail, eyes still tired from a restless night. You’ve done this a thousand times before, but today it feels different. It’s like you’re moving through a haze, your body here but your mind somewhere else. 

The Pilates studio is bright, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflecting the sleek décor. The instructor’s voice, calm and steady, fills the room as she guides everyone into position, but it doesn’t quite reach you. Your movements are precise, but they’re mechanical, lacking the usual grace. You can’t focus, can’t clear your mind the way you usually do. 

Instead, you think of her. 

You push through the hour, sweating through each movement, but it’s more about distracting yourself than anything else. The deep stretches and controlled movements don’t offer the release they usually do, and by the time the session ends, you’re not sure if you’ve achieved anything. You gather your things—your expensive water bottle, the soft towel—and head out, the cool air hitting your skin as you walk back to your car.

The day drags on, the clock ticking slowly. You scroll through your phone, checking it periodically in hopes of some update from Leah, but the hours pass with no word. You think about calling her, about filling the silence with her voice, but you resist. You don’t want to seem needy, don’t want to burden her with how much you’re missing her today.

At home, you head straight for the bathroom. The day has already stretched on too long, and the silence is starting to feel suffocating. You run the water, the steam filling the air. The hot water cascade over you. It feels nice, but it doesn’t wash away the ache in your chest. When you step out, you slide into the plush bathrobe that’s always waiting for you—lavender-scented and soft as a cloud.

You settle in front of your vanity and slip into your facial routine. First, the cleansing balm, then a serum, and a moisturiser after. The jade roller comes next, the cool stone soothing your tired face as you massage it in gentle upward strokes. The mask you apply next is made with organic, rare ingredients that promise to lift and brighten.You need some of that desperately right now. Allowing it to sit on your face for the recommended fifteen minutes, you flip through a copy of Vogue to pass the time, but the words blur in front of you. 

Reaching for your phone again, you stare at it as if willing it to light up, but there’s still nothing.

When you wash the mask off, your skin feels fresher but your mood remains unchanged. You slip into a soft cashmere robe next, pale pink and muted. You stand in front of your closet, looking at the endless rows of pieces, each one precisely selected to be part of your personal collection.

Then, your eyes catch it: the dress.

The one you had received weeks ago, the one you’d been imagining yourself in all day. A stunning Valentino piece in a deep, rich red. The kind of red that demands attention. The silk catches the light in a way that makes it shimmer like liquid.

It’s a dress made for a night to remember, and for the person wearing it to be remembered.

But today, it feels out of place. Today, it feels like a contradiction. You stand there, staring at it for a long moment, your fingers hovering just inches from the fabric. 

Pierpaolo Piccioli. Valentino SS25. A one-of-a-kind piece. 

You wonder if it’s just a waste to just leave it on a hanger. There’s no dinner reservation with your love tonight, no laughter shared over wine, no promises whispered under the dim glow of candlelight. It feels absurd to even consider wearing something so special when the one person who deserves to see you in this dress is not here. 

However, you had paid a lot for this dress, to have it tailored for you and the occasion, and it feels like a travesty to not put it on at least.

You can’t help but reach for the dress. 

Forget it. You put it on.

Your fingers trail over the lace again as you slip it on, the silk gliding against your skin. When you saw the model strut the runway in it, immediately you turned and whispered to your personal show consultant to schedule a meeting with the designer. It was a couture piece tailored to your measurements, every single curve, ensuring a perfect fit.

Pausing, you take a long look at yourself—and the dress—and think, Why waste such a pretty dress?

The dress clings to your body like it was meant for another life, another version of today—a version where she’s by your side, laughing, holding you close, making everything feel right. Instead, the silk and lace feel like an echo of something that could have been. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, twisting, watching how the fabric flows. You run your hands over, smoothing the fabric, appreciating the way it glimmers and glows in the mirror.

With an affirmative nod at yourself, you decide to leave it on for the rest of the day. Maybe it’ll help you feel better, maybe it won’t. But you owe it to the dress—and to yourself—not to let the day slip by without at least trying to make the best of it. 

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

The clock ticks, loud and constant, each second passing like the breeze in the wind. The city continues to hum with life—couples holding hands, flowers being delivered, the world celebrating love. But here you are, dressed up and alone, gazing at the lone bouquet of flowers sitting on your vanity table.

The silence in the room is almost too loud.

And then, you hear it.

A soft sound. A familiar sound. A key turning in the door.

Dashing out of the closet, you run like you never ran before. You can’t breathe. Impossible.

You fly down the stairs, barely able to stop yourself as you skid to a halt by the hallway, the door swinging open just in time.

You step toward the door, your pulse racing. Your fingers tremble as you grip the back of the sofa next to you, barely able to believe what you’re seeing. 

She’s standing there, suitcase in hand, eyes wide with disbelief—and then, when she sees you, her expression softens. 

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Leah's home. She’s here.

“I thought I’d missed it,” she says softly, stepping inside, her voice full of apology, but also relief. “I... I didn’t think I’d be back in time.”

Your eyes fill with sudden tears, the emotions that have been swirling inside you all day finally spilling over. “You’re here,” you whisper, voice trembling. You take a step closer to her, the floor cold against your bare feet but you did not care.  

Leah smiles, her eyes softening as she sets her suitcase down and reaches for you. The moment her arms wrap around you, pulling you close, you felt like you could breathe again. Her warmth envelopes you, and you close your eyes, breathing in the scent of fresh pears and mimosas. You cling to her, feeling the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.

“I couldn’t let my girl celebrate Valentine’s Day alone,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear. She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like nothing could have kept her from being here with you.

You draw in a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest, your fingers trembling as you reach to touch her, as if to confirm that this moment is real, that she’s really here. You look up into her eyes, still in disbelief that your girl was home.

She brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, her fingers soft against your skin, and with a smile so radiant, so genuine, it lights up her whole face. She whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

And in that moment, you realise that this—the two of you, together—is what makes this day perfect. The dress, the plans, the expectations—they all fade into the background. All that matters is that she’s here, holding you. 

“You made it…”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of her gaze making your heart race.

“Of course I did,” she says, voice thick with emotion. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

Her words, so simple, but so full of meaning, fill the spaces inside you. You reach up, brushing your fingers gently across her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin under your touch. She’s here, in your arms, and nothing else matters anymore.

You reach up on your tiptoes to kiss her, slowly at first, tentatively, as if testing the waters. The kiss deepens, slow and intimate. Her hands slide to your waist, pulling you even closer, her body pressing against yours as if she’s afraid you’ll slip away. Your fingers slide through her hair, the feel of it familiar, grounding, as you kiss her deeper.

You pull back slightly, just enough to breathe, but your forehead rests against hers. Her breath is warm against your skin, and for the first time today, you feel the peace you’ve been longing for. 

She smiles softly, brushing her thumb across your bottom lip. “You look incredible,” she says, her voice low and husky.

You smile, your fingers still tangled in her hair, your heart swelling with a love so deep, it fills every part of you. “Y’like it?”

“You know I do, baby” She smiles, her hands gently cupping your face as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering for just a moment. And in that quiet, tender moment, you realise: this is what you’ve been waiting for. Not the day, or the dress, but her. 

Leah leans back just enough to study your face, her eyes tracing every line as if committing it all to memory, as if she’s been waiting for this reunion just as much as you have.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Leah murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers brush over the side of your face, so gentle, so tender, like you were the most precious gold to her.

“I’ve missed you too,” you reply, your voice trembling just slightly. You can’t remember the last time you felt so full of love. You don't know why you ever doubted that your girlfriend would ever leave you alone on Valentine's Day. “I didn’t think I’d make it through today without you.”

Leah chuckles softly, the sound like music to your ears. “Well, I couldn’t let you,” she teases, her hands running down your arms, sending a thrill through your body. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Her lips curl into a smile, and you can’t help but return it. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the warmth of her skin, the familiar scent that has always made you feel like you’re home.

You pull back slightly, enough to look her in the eyes. There’s something raw in her gaze, something that mirrors your own feelings.

“You’re all I’ve wanted today. All I needed was you,” you whisper, your words thick with emotion.

Your girlfriend tilts her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Whatever you want, baby. Y'know that.”

Her words settle into your heart, and in that instant, you realize how right she is. It’s not the grand gestures, the fancy plans, or the expectations of the day that make it special. It’s this—her—standing in front of you, her love wrapping around you like a blanket, making everything else fade into the background.

You kiss her again, but this time it’s different. It’s desperate, it’s hungry, and it’s everything that’s been building between you for the past week. Her lips are warm against yours, her touch possessive and tender all at once.

Leah pulls back just slightly, her forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air.

“I love you,” she whispers, her voice thick with raw emotion.

Your chest tightens at the words, but you smile through the tears that threaten to spill once more. “I love you, too.”

In that moment, all the pain, the distance, and the time apart melt away. It’s just the two of you now, and that’s enough.

She smiles softly, her hand resting against your cheek as she gazes into your eyes, her expression more tender than you ever thought possible. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

happy (late) valentines day, my lovers (you). tell me if you hate it and I'll rewrite it

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[bratbby333]

a proper send off — toji fushiguro

synopsis: step daddy!toji trains ur holes stakes his claim before you go off to college ♡ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ content warnings: taboo; step!cest, age gap (reader is over 18!), rough sex, lots of praise, teasing, heavy use of pet names, dom/sub, dd/lg, p in v, cervix-fucking, tummy bulge, buttplug, throat-fucking, edging, overstimulation, mating press, creampie ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ word count: 5.3k...straight filth ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ author notes: i was in a very specific mood when i wrote this...i hope you all enjoy!! xx not beta read !

nsfw 𓆩♡𓆪 mdni

"Toji!" you chirped, running toward the buff older man as he exited his vehicle. His arms stretched wide as he met you on the sidewalk, leaning down to catch your small figure as you leapt into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. He gripped you tight against his body, rocking the two of you back and forth. 

You had only been apart for about four hours, but it might as well had been three months with the way the two of you clung to one another. 

"How was orientation, my sweet girl?" Toji asked, lowering you to the ground gently, placing a light peck on the top of your head. Your small hand wrapped around his last two fingers as he guided you toward the car, opening the door and getting you settled in the passenger seat.

"Mmmm, super boring...but I learned a lot!" you beamed, shuffling your feet around the floorboards while he turned the key in the ignition. 

The ride home was filled with you telling Toji all about your class schedule, which courses you were excited about, and how your new dorm looked after you had finished decorating it. He smiled kindly, offering the occasional hum or nod in response—he found your aimless ramblings so precious. Your darling voice was like music to his ears. His sweet little girl.

But something plagued his thoughts during the forty-five minute trip. A lingering appetite that he worked so hard to suppress. A dark, elusive feeling that manifested in the pit of his stomach. His grip was tight on the steering wheel, teeth gritted ever so slightly. Worry crept across his face at the realization that the dreaded day rapidly approached him. He was sure he had more time.

He was going to lose you, the inevitability of college now knocking at the door. 

He had gotten so used to having you around, falling in love with your sickeningly sweet nature, your tantalizing aura that oozed innocence. He worried that you wouldn't make it out there on your own; even at your grown age you still looked to him for any sort of guidance, big or small. He loved it. Loved how much you depended on him, how you couldn't live without him.

He knew the sudden departure of your mother hurt you more than you let on, so he made it his mission to keep you safe, feeling wholeheartedly responsible for your well-being, even though he had only been in your life for about a year. 

It was the most fulfilling year he'd ever experienced, far better than the time he had spent with your mother. It was unexpected, hell, it was even frowned upon, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He loved you more than he ever could have loved her, feeling an odd sense of relief when she had finally left, and feeling elated when you decided to stay with him rather than her. A burning question stirred in the back of his mind; were these feelings reciprocated? He didn’t dare find out the answer, instead hoping it would be presented to him first.

It didn’t take much time for the truth to unfurl right before his eyes; why you really wanted to live with him rather than your mom, the (not so) innocent way you began to cling to him��oh, how you loved your Daddy, and how he loved his little girl, too.

Toji knew there was evil out there, people who would take advantage of your soft heart and overly-trusting nature without a second thought. He couldn't let you get hurt.

He tried his best to convince you not to go to college, or at the very least, just commute to campus each day. He wanted to keep you close, to be there for you, to protect you. 

He was successful at getting you to take a gap year, but he could tell his baby girl was getting antsy. Your stubbornness persevered— adamant about furthering your education and staying in the dorms. You were set on going out on your own and he knew he couldn't stop you anymore. 

But he couldn't send his pretty girl out into the world without breaking her in first. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Upon immediate entry to your home, you were ordered to the bedroom, the rough rasp of Toji's voice echoing through your ears as you made your way to his room. 

"Daddy, did I do somethin’ wrong," you questioned softly, lips pouted slightly, voice quiet as you fumbled with the hem of your short, pleated skirt. Seated on the edge of the bed, you kicked your feet around anxiously as he stared down at you. 

"No, nothin' like that, sweetheart," he soothed, grasping your face in hands, his rough thumbs dragging across your blushed cheeks. Your wide eyes swam with curiosity as you stared back up at him.

"Listen t'me very closely, darlin'," he continued, crouching down to your level. Your neck instinctively relaxed, your head falling into his hands, nuzzling into his grasp. "You're going out into the world alone...I won't be around to keep you outta trouble anymore..." his voice trailed off as his eyes searched yours. 

"Mhmm, I know, Daddy," you giggled back, "Y'tell me that everyday." This is why he loved having you to all to himself...in public, he was "Toji"; in private, you only ever called him "Daddy". His little girl was damn good at keeping secrets...it only made things more exciting.

The look in your eyes drove Toji wild; deep, enticing pools of virtue. It was only right that he got to be the one to ruin you, to give you a proper send-off. He hated the idea of you being with someone that wasn't him, so he hoped, prayed, to mold your pussy perfectly around his cock to ensure no other man could live up to the standard he set in your life.

A slight growl erupted from the back of his throat as he continued to pet you. "There's somethin' we gotta do, baby girl,'' he took a knee in front of you, his hands resting atop your plush thighs, massaging them gently. 

"You 'member what we had talked about when you finally decided to go away for college?" he added, working his way up under your skirt. Your breath hitched as you focused on the circles he was drawing on your upper thighs, your head dropping to the side. 

"Uh huh...I do, Daddy," you were already breathless as anticipation swirled through your stomach. Toji hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. Your shirt was removed next, leaving you in only your lacy ankle socks and skirt. 

"You ready? Think ya can handle this, angel?" he asked sternly as he strummed around your warm center. Your face twisted up in pleasure as he played with your pussy. "Uh huh..mmm...yes, D-daddy..'m ready," your voice wavered as his thick finger prodded at your needy hole. 

He pushed you back onto the bed, dipping his digit into the second knuckle, curling it slightly to toy with your g spot. You were already a moaning mess for him, the high pitched whimpers that fell from your lips sent pangs of arousal straight to his dick. The way you writhed around for him at the smallest stimulation made his skin burn. 

Every moment you spent watching him from afar, your innocent daydreams that manifested into dark desires at night, the way you’d hug him for just a bit longer than usual; each time his mind wandered to you, guilt nipping at his spine…it was all worth it.

He was addicted to you well before he ever actually had you— but after that fateful night, a few weeks after the divorce was finalized and your mom moved out, with your unexpected appearance in his room as you crawled into bed with him. The way your arms wrapped so tight around him, how your soft breaths danced so delicately across his bare skin, how perfectly your nestled head fit into the crook of his neck. His appetite became insatiable...his baby girl. The smoothness of your skin as he traced drifting lines around each curve of your precious figure. He couldn't get enough. 

Toji dipped down to kiss along your sweet skin as his finger continued to shallowly work into your dripping cunt. He licked and nipped at you, the taste of your flesh overwhelming his senses. His tongue narrowed as he got to your ear, lapping at it feverishly, suckling at your lobe. "Sound so good f'me, baby." You panted at his words, the coils in your tummy beginning to bubble up. 

He felt you clench around him and immediately withdrew from you. You whined at his absence, your hole spasming around nothing, your thighs pressing together in a feeble attempt to quell the pulsing between your legs. He grinned at your anguished huffs as he stood, removing his clothes. Your need for release still churned in your stomach as a small groan left your lips, pouting up at him. Toji only chuckled in response. "Not yet, sweetheart..." he teased, tossing his shirt aside. He was moving in accordance with his deepest, darkest secrets...he needed you to want him, to crave him, to not want to exist without him.

You knew better than to complain, Daddy always came through for you.

"How do you wanna start, princess," he asked while discarding his jeans, his throbbing girth standing proud in front of you. He loved when you asked for what you wanted, when you spoke your mind without shame. That’s a big part of being independent, right? He wanted to teach you, after all.

"Can I suck it, Daddy...love the way you taste," you mewled, your words coated with neediness as you leaned forward to grasp him in your small hands, licking your lips as spit pooled in your mouth. Toji had you right where he wanted you, he worked hard to fine-tune your body to respond to him and only him. You were completely wrapped around his finger. You looked starved, desperate for his cock to pound into your throat. 

"Of course, baby, gotta train that mouth of yours, hmm?" he teased, smirking as he positioned himself in front of you. "Already take me so well...let's see how deep you can go." His thick, dripping head pushed past your lips, your tongue swirling around his tip as you worked to take him further, choking on him as he settled in the back of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as you struggled to breathe around his substantial girth. "Relax, baby girl...breathe through your nose f'me," he soothed, running his fingers through your hair before squeezing the sides of your cheeks. "Look s’pretty like this," he grunted, his hips rocking into your mouth slowly.

He worked his cock in and out, groaning at how tight your throat was constricting around him. "Mouth's so hot n wet f'me..doin so good princess," he muttered, his jaw tight as he watched his dick slide between your taut lips. He grasped at the back of your head firmly, his other hand still squeezing at your hollowed out cheeks. "That’s it…keep it nice n tight."

His pace picked up, the sloppy sounds of Toji fucking into the back of your throat danced around the heady air of the room. You stared up at him, blinking away the tears that poured from your eyes, eager to capture the way his face twisted in pleasure as trails of spit dribbled down your chin. You loved pleasing him…loved the way that even the biggest and strongest men’s composure could waver. You knew Daddy’s tipping point, and you were dead-set on taking him there.

You felt him twitch inside your mouth as you hummed against him, the vibrations running through his cock and straight to his balls, his head thrown back at the added stimulation. "Mmm, there ya go, sweetheart...so fuckin' good. Pretty girl wants my cum, huh?" 

You nodded furiously, or as much as you could with his dick in your mouth and his hand still palming the back of your head, his strokes forcing you to take all of him. 

You gasped and coughed as Toji abruptly pulled your head off him, smearing a mixture of saliva and pre cum across your cheeks as he rubbed himself around your lips. "Open...tongue out for me, baby girl," he commanded. You obeyed immediately, your wide, pleading eyes staring up at him as Toji smacked his rock-hard girth against your hot tongue.

His hands gripped either side of your head, pulling your hair into makeshift pigtails as he shoved into your mouth again, smirking as you gagged around him, spit running between your tits and pooling in your lap. His eyes went dark at the sight, utterly consumed by how beautiful you looked while you sucked him off. God, how he’d miss his little girl. He pulled you off him again, amused at how much his princess was struggling to take him. "C'mon, doll, I know you can do better than that," he taunted, before ramming himself back in. 

Your lungs burned while your mouth stretched wide to accommodate him, his thick head bullying the back of your throat. “Stay with me,” he grunted as he left small smacks against your taut cheeks. You fought against your heavy eyelids, struggling to hold his gaze. 

With a rough jut of his hips, your nose was flush against his pelvis while he unloaded down your throat. Tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks at the inundation, heat coursing through you at the carnal sounds that left his chest. He pulled out with a pop, leaving you sputtering and coughing. The savory warmth of his cum coated your tongue, licking your lips to ensure you didn't waste a drop.

You dizzily gazed up at him as you worked to regain your breath. "Open up, show me you swallowed it all," he murmured, his breathing labored as he cupped the underside of your chin. Your lips parted as you stuck your tongue out. Toji hummed in approval as he checked your mouth for any remaining trace of his seed. "Good fucking girl...so needy for Daddy's cum, huh?" You nodded, giggling breathlessly, your throat sore from Toji's intimidating girth.

"Lay back for me, sweetheart," he said firmly, stroking himself as he watched you readjust on the bed. Toji kneeled on the edge, grasping your legs and throwing them around his waist. "So pretty...you know those boys will be all over you, yeah?" 

You shook your head furiously, pouting at the thought of being with anyone but Toji. "N-no, no daddy...only wan' you," you huffed, locking your feet behind his back. Your hands splayed across his abdomen, tracing lines around his prominent muscles. He leaned forward to position himself at your soaked core. "Mm..I know, doll," he cooed, his hand cupping your cheek as his other arm propped himself up. "But I gotta get you good n ready just in case. I can't have you embarrassing me out there...I did raise you, after all," he spoke low, the rasp of his voice sending chills to your core. 

“Some of 'em will be gentle with ya,” he murmured, inching deeper and deeper into you. His face was kind, a small smile twitching on his lips. He looked down at you, his eyes brimming with adoration and arousal, the o-shape of your swollen, parted lips and flushed cheeks pulled a raspy groan from his chest. 

He sunk into your warmth, his thick cock dragging in and out gently, his head brushing against your sweet spot with merciful thrusts.

You fussed at his teasingly slow pace, his girth stretching you out perfectly. It took every ounce of his willpower to not break you in half right then and there, driving himself into you with fervor, the jealousy biting at his spine fueling each rough jut of his hips at the thought of you with someone else. He maintained his leisurely rhythm, working you up until you reached your breaking point. "Need more..ahh...p-please Daddy...give m'more," you begged.

“Mmm, I know you do...but I gotta show you what you're gonna get when you mess with boys." His unhurried strokes antagonized your milky cunt that ached to be pounded properly. You writhed around underneath him, bucking your hips in hopes that he’d give you more, but you knew your efforts were all in vain. Toji smiled down at you with a raise of his brow, still inadequately sliding into you. Oh how he loved how needy you were for him, how easy it was to make you squirm. You were close to breaking down, tears beginning to surface as you begged for him to go faster, harder…anything. 

“This isn’t enough for you, is it?” he taunted, his palms on either side of your cheeks, rubbing away your tears with a quick flick of his thumbs. “Uh uh…need more, please,” you whined, pressing your head against his hands. 

Toji stared down at you with a coy smile as he watched you unravel, how hungry your sopping walls were for a good pounding. He wanted to play with you some more, to have you crying over how badly you need him. "Ya like it rough, isn’t that right, my sweet girl?” He toyed with your puffy clit as his tempo remained steady. “Love when I use you as my pretty little fleshlight, yeah?”

You nodded furiously. He grinned down at you, pulling your hips up toward him as his tempo suddenly changed, the new angle pounding directly into your g spot. 

“A…ahh!! F-fuckkk, Daddy,” you cried out, your head bouncing around to match his forceful rhythm. His hips were mercilessly rutting into you, every jolt bringing you closer and closer to your release as he continued to thumb at your swollen clit. You clenched around him, eyes locked on his as short pants left your lips.

"No, baby...not yet." He pulled out immediately, flipping you, lifting your hips as he shoved a pillow under your stomach. His hands rubbed circles into the flesh of your ass as he prodded himself against your cunt. You moaned, ready to complain to him as your body ached for release. His palm found the back of your head, pushing your face into the mattress, successfully silencing you. “Shh…let me play with you, princess.”

Toji flipped up your skirt to reveal the pink rhinestone nestled perfectly between your cheeks. "That's my girl, kept it in all day f'me, hmm?" He gripped the plug and pulled it out, spitting a fat glob of saliva onto the hole before circling the sensitive ring and shoving it back in, plunging the toy in and out of your tightness. 

Your hips pushed toward him, your already broken resolve absolutely crumbling from the prodding sensation in your ass. You prayed he'd let you cum soon. An unbearable ache coursed through you; a dull, evil reminder of your denied orgasms. 

"M-mmhm..wanna be so good f'you, Daddy.” Your head spun, the static sobs that ripped though your sore throat bounced through the room, echoing through Toji's ribcage and ricocheting around his heart.

He couldn't help the twisted smile that cracked across his face, his precious little girl, how obsessed you were with his cock, how gluttonous you were to have him nestled within your gummy walls. 

Truth be told, he was ravenous for your warmth. He loved how quickly he could wind you up and how easy it was to make you snap. He adored the way you shook when he'd bottomed out against you, the precious sounds that you made only for him.

His chest tightened at the gnawing thought of not having you anymore. He couldn't let you know that...couldn't show you how badly he needed you, how much he loved you and your perfect pussy. He gritted his teeth at his insecurities; his nagging fear of losing you, how he dreaded letting you go. How desperate he was to make this last forever. 

He prodded himself in and out... in and out... iiin and ooout, only giving you about an inch each time before he removed himself again, his brows furrowed with a hungered expression, wanting to savor the way you sucked him in with greed. Your hole clenched down on him in a pitiful attempt to keep him inside, only for him to leave you empty once more. "P-plea..se, Daddy," your voice trembled, "Need you so so bad," your head thrashed around as you babbled, your thighs shaking as Toji tormented your gushing cunt. He smirked down at your twitching frame, getting off on how needy you were, how your back arched so deeply in hopes that he'd push all the way in. 

"Already cock drunk and I've barely fucked you, hmm?" His aching cock teased at your spasming entrance some more, his fingers pushing and pulling the plug in and out of your ass. Your soft whines circled around his head, his chin tucked into his clavicle as he watched your holes stretch at the intrusions. “My dirty fuckin’ girl…you love when I tease you, don’t ya?”

“I–” your words caught in your throat as he shoved all the way, the head of his cock caressing the deepest parts of you with ease, the delicious girth of his member stretching you out so fucking perfectly. Your cheek pressed firm against the mattress, hands pulling at the sheets, your fists balled up tight around the fabric as overstimulating pleasure raked through you. Relishing in sinful bliss as Daddy finally gave you what you so pitifully longed for, the rough jerk of his hips smacking into the fat of your ass.

Toji was unraveling. His darkened gaze raked up and down your figure, reveling in the way your flesh rippled at the strength of his unrelenting strokes. He leaned over, one hand pressed into your lower back, the other grabbing hold of your bunched up skirt, pulling you to meet his thrusts.

“S-so–ungh–so deep, Daddy,” you mewled. Toji smirked, reaching around to press a firm palm against your tummy, growling as he felt himself deep in your gushy walls. “Mmm, I know, princess, but you’re taking me so well.” His brutal pace was splitting you in half. It felt unreal, impossible even, that nirvana had begun to manifest within your reality in the form of Toji’s thick cock absolutely destroying you, your gushing cunt greedily sucking him in, yearning to savor your little slice of paradise. 

“God, this pussy was made for me, huh? So fuckin’ perfect.” His filthy words sent undulations of ecstasy through you, making you constrict around him, the coils in your stomach forming once again.

“You’re gettin’ close, aren’t ya,” he huffed out, his fingers trailing lower to rub your clit. You clenched down on him, a tell-tale sign of affirmation. His thick tip brushed against your cervix, making you cry out, relishing in bliss on the steps toward heaven’s gates.

“Ahhh! Y-yes!…oh, Daddy, yes!” You were a blubbering mess, the tightening sensation in your stomach increasing tenfold at his added stimulation.

Toji’s mind was in shambles as he battled his own filthy conscience, torn between denying your pleasure once more or redirecting his attention toward his new goal: make you fall apart on him over and over again. He struggled to weigh his options as your cock-drunk cries echoed through the room, the delicious sound of skin slapping against skin clouding his mind.

“Grippin’ me s’tight, princess. Fuuuck– wanna cum, baby girl?” His jaw locked as his fingers dug into your soft skin. “Mhm…,” your voice was airy as you nodded vigorously, trying your hardest to form coherent sentences as his heavy balls slapped against you, “...pleasepleaseplease, Daddy–ugnhh–wanna cum s’bad…wan’ cum f’you,” you rambled, drunk off the way he was splitting you in half. The squelching sounds of your greedy little cunt coupled with your staggered whimpers and filthy begging finalized his desicion; Fuck breaking you in, Daddy was going to break you.

“That’s it…c’mon, baby,” his mean, persistent thrusts made your head spin, his fingers rubbing quick circles against your throbbing clit. “Cum. Now. Make a mess on Daddy,” he growled. Your eyes screwed shut, his permission ringing through your ears as you felt the tension in your stomach finally snap. Your face contorted as you squirted, painting your sweet juices onto his strong thighs. An animalistic growl broke through Toji’s chest as he worked you through your blinding orgasm, spurred on by the warm spray beading down his lower half and onto the mattress below you.

He pumped into you a few more times before pulling out. You nearly sobbed at the emptiness. As overstimulating as Daddy’s cock was, you couldn’t help but revel in the way he stuffed you. Your head spun while he manhandled you, flipping you onto your back, his strong hands pressing against your thighs. “Hold your legs there f’me, pretty girl,” he rasped. You diligently obeyed, your shaking hands anchoring into the pits of your knee, pulling your legs deeper into your sides as he rubbed himself against your drenched folds, the firm pressure of his shaft against your clit sending chills through your exhausted body.

You stared at him with a low-lidded expression.Your mouth fell agape while he smacked his member against your clit. A trail of spit dribbled from the corner of your mouth as he sunk back into you, your eyes shooting open as you cried out for him. He returned to his harsh pace immediately, giving you no time to recover from your orgasm. His hands replaced yours against the back of your legs. You clawed down his taut abdomen as he used his new found leverage to bury himself deeper inside you with every rough bump of his hips. 

“D-daddy–ahhh!– ‘s too much,” you cried out, your palms pressing into his torso in hopes he’d slow down a bit.

“Move your fuckin’ hands,” he growled, “Be good…play with your pussy f’me,” his cock colliding with the furthest wall of your gushing cunt. His palm pressed against your tummy, nasty groans falling from his lips as the added pressure made you even tighter. “You jus’ feel too good, princess.” His breathing staggered as he reveled in your warmth.

“So deep…oh, fuuuck! Daddy you’re so f-fucking deep,” you babbled, your words drawn out as electricity shot to your core, your fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. Your walls fluttered, the churning in your stomach returning with urgency. You clenched down around him, guiding the head of his cock to drive straight into your sweet spot. 

“Fuckin’ milkin’ me…gonna come again, baby girl?” You nodded profusely, ears ringing as your eyes rolled back. Your brain was numb—he was all you could feel, the only thing that made sense; Daddy. You were delirious, dickmatised, even. Oh how badly you wanted to marinate in this bliss, to make it last forever.

“Gimme another one…c’mon,” Toji’s foundation wavered as he stared down at you, pure, unadulterated lust swirling around his irises. He was about to break, utterly consumed by all things you. The sweet sounds you made for him, how perfectly your cunt molded around him, the way your sloppy walls hugged him so tight as you came around him once more. You were made for him and vice versa. 

“That’s it baby–Good…Fucking…Girl.” You cried out as his thrusts emphasized his praise, burying himself impossibly deep, his head kissing your womb. 

Every neuron in your body fired off at once as his strokes persisted. You were beyond saving, your entire existence orbiting around the man that was actively breaking you in half. He was the driving force in your life, the sole reason your atoms continued to vibrate and your heart pumped crimson through you. He was everything. 

Toji watched as you fell apart, expelling all the air from his lungs as he released a deep, guttural moan. The sight of your trembling body and the feeling of your quivering cunt around him made his heart beat with such fervor it practically slammed into his ribs. But it wasn’t enough, not right now. Not in the state of vulnerability, of fear, that he found himself in. He wasn’t ready for this to end. And it wasn’t going to, not if he could help it. 

He grinned down at you, his words bouncing around your skull as you attempted to wrap your head around his request: “Again.”

You wanted to give up, knowing damn well it would break you if you came any more. But when Daddy demanded another orgasm from his sweet little girl, you delivered. You’d be foolish not to.

“One more…just give me one more,” he coaxed, his fingers replacing yours, thrumming viciously at your clit. “C’mon, baby girl…Make me proud,” his head cocked to the side as he watched your pleading eyes shut once more, succumbing to the waves you had no choice but to ride.

Another soul-crushing orgasm raked its way through you. Every sense in your body dulled and heightened simultaneously. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you cried out in delight, your body drowning in a lethal dose of euphoria. 

After a few more pumps, he leaned down to press his chest against yours. Your shaking legs locked behind his back as he bottomed out, tugging your hips up as he shot a thick load deep inside you. You were breathless, light-headed, stuck in a state of ecstasy. Even with an empty head, you knew one thing for certain– triumph. The sounds he was making told you everything you needed to know. You were so good for Daddy. Your nails dragged across his back while you wrapped him up in your arms, desperate to feel as much of him as you could. 

Toji sat back up, pulling out of you as he crouched down at your core, spreading your puffy lips with his thumbs, beaming with pride as he watched his cum dribble out. You were his. “Did so good for me, princess.” He placed a gentle kiss on your clit as he realigned his face with yours, “Made me so proud.”

You offered only a small smile in response, reeling in enlightenment. You laid still while he cleaned you up, though you didn’t really have a choice. Your legs were numb and your back ached with a dull, constant reminder of who you truly belonged to. No one could fill the space that Toji held in your life. You weren’t going anywhere.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Your tired bodies laid intertwined, the sound of synchronized breaths drifted through the room as the two of you relished in post-coital bliss. The love that pulsed from his chest into yours solidified your decision. There was nowhere else you wanted to be. 

“Daddy?” you hummed while he rubbed deep circles into your lower back.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“I…I think I’m gonna take another gap year.” You could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence that fell between the two of you as your words hung in the still air. Your heart thrummed as you waited for his response, anxiety running rampant in your body in hopes that he wouldn’t be angry with you. But you needed him. You knew where you belonged.

Your admission rang through Toji’s ears. His breath quickened every so slightly as his calloused hands dragged up and down your body, his lips pressing into the top of your head. It took every fiber of his being to keep his composure, to not jump from his skin at his victory. He did it. 

“If that’s what you want, princess. I support you.” His voice was steady, but his nonchalance was insincere. He was elated. He got to keep his little girl around, and he had no intention of letting go. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ author notes: the need i have for this man is insatiable... this was my first fic for toji so i had to do it up

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[theactofknowing]

take a shot for me

You and Jayce Talis are friends — good friends, even — and it’s no surprise for the two of you to be found drinking. You’re young, free from the shackles of true responsibility, and the bar is the perfect place to go.

What does surprise you, however it came to be, is what falls into your hands when you invite him into your apartment after a night out.

tags: smut, mutual pining, AU!modern setting but it’s not explicitly stated, sub!jayce, WHO SAID THAT(!!!), loss of virginity because HELLO JAYCE ARCANE. NOT beta read. forgive me

wc: 4.5k

Golden eyes — happy sun-yellow, warm and bubbling companionably with tipsy indulgence — meet yours.

Your gaze falters for a moment as you take him in; the unsteady lean against the bar which he tries to play off as a suave stance, the slight shine on his lips from his drink.

“You’re such a lightweight,” Jayce says, small smile curling his lips — which are only slightly asymmetrical, you’ve stared at them often enough to recognize it.

The recognition you have has been built over the past months. Two academy students; oriented together in the same lectures seats apart, till the courses increased and the distance dimmed, sat side-by-side.

Your connection had grown in the class setting, though it thrived outside of it— blooming like a flower exposed to the sun. Conversations started with work, class, then shifted into something more boisterous, entertaining, to nights in the bar more than was healthy.

“Bull,” you retort, making move to stand from your chair. You’d meant to leave ages ago, when you saw how depressing the bar life had been. It was a weekday, and you and Jayce were mixed along with divorced singles and depressed fathers. Jayce’s company, however, kept you idle.

He’s kind enough to not mention your slight sway when you rise from your seat. You pull your coat on, closing it under your chin, and he does the same.

“Take me home,” you say, joke lacing your tone, and he complies. He holds his arm out for you to grasp onto, which you gratefully take as he leads the two of you into the chilly night.

“Do we have a drinking problem?” You ask, recalling your frequency at the bar. You pull yourself closer to his side, leeching the warm heat that emulated from him as easy as breathing.

The night streets are dimmed, shrouding the intricate architecture and well-loved streets from your eyes. It meant little, not when the both of you knew the way like muscle memory. Your feet carry you easily, shuffling softly against the streets.

In the dark, you can’t see his features when he turns to look at you, making his voice more clear in the position. “Maybe you do,” he says, and you know he has a smug look on his face, one eyebrow raised — the right one, with the knick in it. Part of you wishes to see it.

You scoff, playfully swatting his padded arm as you accuse him of being beside you all those drunken nights. Youthful laughter echoes through the street, quieting down as you turn once, twice onto your street.

He departs from you, keeping an eye as you reach your apartment door. You stand there silently for a moment, contemplating, then turn towards him. You know you must look odd, fondling the doorknob and standing still like you don’t know how to open your door.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, surprising yourself with the question as you do. You aren’t sure what your intentions are; helping a friend get out of the climate, or help him take his pants off. Either would be fine.

Fortunately the weather has long turned cold, winter swirling around the corner, and the wind is the perfect explanation for the heat in your cheeks — just nipped numb and warm from the weather, nothing more.

His brows raise in surprise, like he isn’t sure either of your intent either. “Yeah, yes.”He nods quickly, taking a moment to bury his face in his coat as you turn away.

Your home is dark, quiet, with midnight-moon light painting a cool glow over the belongings within. Flicking on one light, a lamp near the couch, you move with a one-track mind.

Shucking off your coat, then hobbling over to rip your shoes off, which Jayce laughs at when you stumble, though he denies this. You ask yourself why you invited him in as you move about, though you aren’t opposed to the idea — you enjoy his company, his refreshing intelligence, the kindness he possessed to do good and share it.

You plop yourself on the couch, your lack of full sobriety existing as a slight tingle behind your eyes, giving you the kick you need. “Come hither,” you joke, motioning with your finger as you rest your head against one cushion.

Jayce has been in your home often enough to recognize where his belongings go, how you want him to kick his shoes off at the door, before moving to join you. He laughs quietly and sits down next to you, eyes swimming with subdued mirth.

It’s comfortable, sitting together and letting companionable silence come and go like the wind. Easy conversation flows between you, speaking on projects and things processed in the academy, papers to be done and stamped.

Eventually, your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background, a warm sound that reminds you of blankets and drinks together, although it means little in the moment.

Openly, you watch his lips. You wonder if they’re soft, if you can taste the drink on his breath and lick the remnants from his mouth. Typically you’d reel these thoughts in, slap a big shame sticker atop them, though you have little care in your happy state.

You begin to scoot closer, inch by inch. Jayce doesn’t notice till he does, eyebrows silently furrowed as he tries to deduce if you’ve moved closer, or if he’s had too much to drink.

You’re not quite sure what your plan is, what your means are. Distracted by the premise of your feelings, Jayce could ask you if you were an idiot, and in your otherworldly state you’d probably say yeah, sure, without processing the question.

One inch, then another, and you’re sat beside him. You can feel his legs shift beside you, always having to move, to fidget. He’s long been quiet, watching you with open curiosity and, perhaps wariness, as you gaze upon him.

Your head comes to rest upon his shoulders, and you know the angle looks good on you — coy smile pulling at your lips, long lashes fluttering around your open, speaking eyes — and he stares at you in surprise.

Slipping slowly, your hand trails up his bicep — you’re unsure what your plan is, but it feels good to exist here, here in the moment, and maybe your past self was wrong for withholding you — and settles on the curve of his chest.

There’s a clear shift in the means of his visit by now, and he’s caught on. He’s watching, waiting expectantly, seeing if this is a prank or something more, something real and curling around his heart.

Yellow eyes turned sunset-sky dark, overshadowed by the slight of his dilated pupils, watch you. There’s a question lingering in his open eyes, one of uncertainty and for the knowledge of more.

“Jayce,” you sigh, unable to articulate your want and your certainty through nothing more than a whisper. Your hands are at his chest — not quite pawing at the softness like you’d like — fingers drawing impatient lines.

A breath, two, then you will yourself to move in. You feel air pass between you, still shifting into electric sparks as your lips near one another. You can envision the curve of his lips as your lids shut, how it’ll feel licking into his mouth. Just before they do, Jayce stops you.

“I’m…” his voice is low, face pinched in a grimace. “I’ve never, I’m…”

Never… what? And oh, surprise hits you like a truck when the realization settles. Jayce Talis, a virgin? Your thoughts must show on your face because he starts to scoot away from you, shutting himself out.

Quickly, you grab his bicep. “That’s okay.” You squeeze reassuringly, hoping and praying you haven’t scared him off. Jayce was, above all else and the lust in your brain, once of your closest friends. “Seriously. And I’m fine going as fast or… or as slow as you want.”

He looks at you disbelievingly, though a hesitant smile plays on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. Shamefully, part of you revels in this. Heat licks at your groin at the thought of being the only one to see him so, to have his hands on your skin and voice in your ear.

He’s not saying no to you, he’s warning you, between the lines saying he wants you to be the first. You should take this revelation slow, have a first date and build up the promise of the good he could have. Your mouth moves before you can decide. “Let me… show you a good time?”

He nods, both of you lost for words as the gap diminishes. The ache inside you — thumping heavily in your chest and urging your hands to move, feel — burns brighter, gasoline of his lips exciting it so.

The moment your lips connect, you can’t help but sigh. The sparks you felt are burning, urging you to slip closer, to shut your eyes snd let the waves wash over you.

Jayce is enthusiastic, lips clumsily pressing against yours in a rhythm that’s hard to follow. You don’t find fault in that, not when you know you’re shaking with just as much need as he is. In the interval, where your breaths are one and your skin is hot, his need slips and he begins to follow your lead.

You push him against the couch, eyes still shut and unwilling to depart from him more than necessary. He gasps into your mouth when you settle in his lap, fists clenched painfully at his sides as he’s uncertain of what to do, how to do it.

Unrelenting, you push further into him. He loves this, it seems, as he arches in response, curling himself into the warmth and smell of you. Your hands slip beneath his shirt, memorizing the dips and curves of his body on the chance you’ll never experience this again. Ever the multitasker, your hands begin to fumble the buttons on his shirt, painstakingly slipping them free till his torso is bare to you.

Your lips separate from his, dragging a slick trail of kisses of want across his cheek, jaw, the thin skin by his ear. Oh, you know you’re doing something right when his head falls to your shoulder, pitched sigh of his gracing your ear as you suck the skin.

Flushed, the mark left behind blooms. There’s a tenseness in his shoulders as you draw back to review your work, and for a breath you worry that you’ve done something wrong. It dawns on you when you see the shift of his hips, the slight press into the seat below, that he’s resisting the urge to grind.

Heat blooms in your core when you realize he’s trying to be good, to follow your unspoken instructions to follow your lead. You take incentive and grind your clothed cunt against his tented trousers, the grind wonderfully heavy as the seam of your pants press against your clit.

His hips rut upwards sharply, surprised moan warm against your collarbones. Open-mouthed breaths pass between you, swirling in the air and suffocating in your ears, as the two of you curve together. His upwards grinds are inconsistent and fueled by his natural instinct to move, but lack of experience simmers alongside it.

You whisper Jayce’s name with a soft hand on his chest, which he takes as sign to stop. He doesn’t seem to process that his hips are still shifting an inch, like he’ll explode if he ceases his movements, but he watches you painfully expectantly.

The room is dim as you hadn’t bothered to flick on the light, though an adjacent lamp beams behind your head, haloing a soft glow around your head that blocks the light from kissing along his frame. For a moment you wish you withheld till you got to your bedroom or at least flicked on more light.

That worry passes by quickly when you take in what you can see — the soft parting of his reddened lips, the pleased furrow of his brows — he’s looking at you like you’re the lit candle in a shrouded room, like you’re the illuminated masterpiece of art in a room of lackluster beauties.

You can feel his clothed cock against your core, impatiently pressing close enough as though he could break out of his pants and yours. Grasping the back of the couch, you lean forward. You lift your hips by a few inches, punctuating your lifted dance with a hearty grind.

Curling and warming; you’d been tipsy when you entered your apartment, drink pulsing in your blood and inebriating your veins. Arousal and want for more pulsed instead, shaking your hands and holding your breath, and you weren’t sure you could live with the unresolved tension.

“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, though you aren’t sure he could answer. He’s been panting against your skin, wet lips dragging along the unmarred canvas. His grip on you, once shy and courteous, now hold you with such strength that he could fuck up into you however.

A whine. “My hands? Mouth? …” there’s a question that hangs in the silence. Do you want to fuck me? It asks. You swallow thickly imagining it, of him bending you over the couch or you in his lap, whispering in his ear as he whimpered in yours. He must be imagining the same because he presses into your heat, jumpy for you.

“You— well, hah,” Jayce babbles, sentence accentuated by his soft moan. You can hear the click of his throat as he swallows, voice almost hoarse as he speaks, “anywhere, anything. Just you, please.”

Your breath stutters for a moment, unsure how to respond appropriately. You lean forward and press your lips to his — sharing your unspoken want through unrelenting kisses, your shared pining in your teeth as you nip at his lip.

After a breath and slick kisses, you part from him and he lifts himself trying to chase your lips. He looks almost pained to be separated from you, the heat of your body. You shimmy down his frame, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them.

“You’re going to— you want to—?” He asks, shocked at the motion you’ve set. You give him a look, one of disbelief and certainty. He nods, understanding, more than excited to let the waves pass over him.

Your hands settle first at his knees, then slowly dance up the covered skin, fingers twirling and leaving a trail of promises as they near where he must be aching. Every drag upwards seems to hurt him with the way his muscles dramatically tense, brow pinching inch and inch further.

With you gripping his thighs for support, you lean in. You press your mouth against his groin, cheek petting the fabric as you kiss where his cock rests. He jumps like he’s been burned, then curls in towards you like he isn’t sure if he wants to run away or into the feeling.

You take a breath to look up at Jayce, though you don’t separate yourself from him. You imagine that the sensation is dimmed through all the fabric, but his mouth hangs open like you’re already sucking him off. His arm sits on the backrest, curling to press the back of his hand against his open lips.

It must be an erotic sight, you realize. Your frame, small when compared to his in this scenario, pressed against his long, long legs, like you’re trapped there. His eyes — golden sun, marigold circle around his blown pupils — won’t leave yours as you blink hazily up at him, nuzzling against his cock like you’re worshipping it, him.

Pressing your cheek against his thigh, you lift your free hand up. Your fingers dance along the seam of his pants, curling excitedly along where the button rests. One of the two layers that separates you from the heat of him, you’re glad to be rid of it.

You look up to him, silent question gracing him as your nimble digits circle the button. This is his first time — you don’t want to push him, overwhelm him, but you want him — and you can see he’s nervous in the stiffness of his frame.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You softly remind him, fingers smoothing away an invisible wrinkle in his pants. Your hands are antsy.

“No, no— Gods, please—“ he closes his eyes, legs spreading further in an invitation, “I want you.” I want you if you want me, he means.

Jayce’s hands slip to his pants before you can, pushing the button through the eyelet and hold your breath in your chest till it hurts, and you aid him the rest of the way. He moans unashamedly as the heaviest restriction on his cock is freed, leaving him nearly skin clad.

His boxers are still on, too shy and riddled with nerves to expose himself just yet. He’s watching you carefully, waiting to see your reaction as if you’d ever react negatively. You halt his worries by returning to your spot, lashes tickling your cheeks as you mouth along the clear shape of him.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Jayce whines as you suck on the covered tip of his cock. He can’t sit still while your tongue laves the precum-dampened spot on his boxers, wetting the fabric till it plastered to his cock within. His thighs are shaking next to your dipped head, like he’s fighting the urge to clamp them against your skull.

You’ve hardly done anything and he’s already falling apart. You peek up at him to the best of your ability, unwilling to pull away your mouth; his head is tipped back, only leaving his heaving chest for you to see, in and out.

Such open and honest responses have you sighing against him, focusing on the feel of him against you and the heavy pulsing in your cunt. You feel like you’re about to explode, like a bubbling kettle bursting with steam at the edges. Your lid is about to pop.

The pressure has long gone past aching, so you decide to relieve yourself with your free hand. You pop open the button on your pants with a quiet jingle, fingers slipping between your folds. You huff, warm breath wrapping around Jayce’s cock and it jumps against your skin.

There’s a sharp intake of air above you, and you open your eyes to find Jayce watching you. Your gaze meets just as the meat of your palm grinds against your clit, mouth dropping open as pleasure shoots up your spine.

You whimper his name, face shifting momentarily away as you forget what you were occupied with, and he chokes on air. His hand comes down quickly to grasp himself, breathing through the motions, like he was about to cum. “You… oh,” he whispers, starstruck. He’s getting off on this, seeing you lose yourself with his name in your mouth.

He can’t help himself, it seems, as he takes himself fully in hand and his boxers start to fall away. There’s a soft shlick sound that fills the air, wet head of his cock sliding his hands smoothly. His open-mouthed panting shows how overwhelmed he is, how one squeeze too many could have his cum painting his knuckles.

You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s imagining fucking you or painting your face. Watching him, you ache. You have to have him now, you decide as his thick hands squeeze himself indulgently.

You bat away his hand and he easily complies, nails poking under the band of his shifting boxers as you look up to him with the unspoken question. He nods enthusiastically, no longer shy and embarrassed, and lifts his hips to assist you.

He pops completely free from his boxers and exhales thankfully. You, on the same level, are incredibly thankful to be here. The tip of his cock shines with precum, twitching something fierce when you reach forward and use your still-slick hand to pull the foreskin down and expose him to the cool air.

Your hand slips, inching down the length of his shaft till your thumb rests on the sensitive circle of skin just by his sack, thumb circling softly. Jayce squirms under the pressure, though unwilling to voice his needs without your say-so or inquiry — always looking to please.

Lips trailing, you kiss up his exposed thigh, biting back a pleased smile when the muscle twitches beneath your touch. Trailing further and further up… you pass by his cock, much to his dismay.

The soft fuzz of his abdomen tickles your face where you press against him, stomach twitching beside you. As you lean more into the couch, his cock presses against your chest. He squirms, as if burdened by the uncomfortable pressure.

“Please,” Jayce says, never having been burdened by his open emotions and desires. You love that about him. He begins to murmur nearly inaudibly, “please, please, please…”

You draw back, looking inquisitively at him. You know you’re playing mean, though you can’t bring yourself to feel guilt. “Please what?”

“I want…” he swallows, thinking about how he should respond. “I want your mouth on me. Please.”

“My mouth was just on you.” You remind him, head tilted to the side.

“My— my cock.” He relents. His ears must be burning with a shocked flush, but you aren’t paying enough attention to actually check. “I want you to suck me off,” he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, “I feel like I’m about to explode.”

Laughing softly, you move to fulfill his request. The air in your living room has shifted multiple times throughout the evening — once electric and stifling, now shifting into something slower, more memorable.

Your mouth falls open and you lick up the side of his cock, lips plump around his shaft. You can tell he’s shaking from the anticipation, and you wonder how long he’ll last.

You breathe in once and then wrap your lips around the head of his cock, sucking softly as to not overwhelm him.

“Yes— oh, yes,” Jayce is loud with it, his gratitude and pleasure. He’s trying not to move too much underneath you, to let you work as you please, but he can’t resist his back from arching dramatically. You pray the neighbors don’t hear his cries. “Hah, oh…”

Bobbing slightly, you let yourself be lost to the sensation. You urge yourself to take him in further, to press your tongue against his sensitive underside as the head glides smoothly into your waiting mouth. With each slip down, you catch a whiff of him — woodsy like charcoal, mixed in with the natural scent of him that embodies him so well.

You know he’s not going to last longer when his cock twitches in your mouth, gasps of his filling your ears and traveling straight to your clit.

“Oh, you—“ he’s mewling now, unable to resist the slight curve of his hips into your mouth. His hand comes to curl in your hair, not demanding, but rather grounding himself as the world slips away. “Fuck, yes— yesyesyesyes—“

You pull your mouth up as spurts of him start to coat your tongue. He’s fighting to keep his lids open, to watch as you open yourself so readily for him. Lips parting, your tongue cradles the underside of his cock as his cum paints your tastebuds — salty, enticing you for more — and his jumping tip.

He sits still for a moment, recalibrating his sensors as you let the sense wash over you. With one final suck and kiss, which Jayce gasps and jolts with as the sensitivity burns him, you pull off him.

“That was…” Jayce wheezes, dopey smile pulling at his uneven lips. You laugh in agreement, taking in his wrecked form as you do, the sheen on his bare skin. “Holy shit. Get up here,” he leans over and pulls you up onto his lap with a strength you forgot he possessed.

He breathes against you for a moment, arching into your touch as your hands glide across his skin. If he could, you imagine he’d be purring. He pulls back from you to meet your eyes, a powerful glint in his own; the same one he possesses when he has an excellent, exciting plan.

“Can I… return the favor?” His fingers curl at your open waistband, still unbuttoned from your earlier pursuits. At the mention, your arousal floods back overwhelmingly fast, knocking your knees weak. You nod quickly, afraid words would fail you.

Your pants are gone in an instant — albeit with an awkward dance as neither of you want to separate, chests heaving and dragging together in the tight spot you’ve dug — leaving you bare at the waist down. Wet, damp, you press against his open thigh and the slight pressure has your back curling.

“Show me how,” Jayce says, unashamed and eager with a boyish giddiness.

“Take your hand… here like— uhn,” you hold his wrist in your hand, curling his longest fingers forward before his palm kisses your oversensitive clit. His chest puffs out a smidge at your moan, though you make no move to comment on this.

His fingers are stiff in your cunt as they separate your folds, curling in that ‘come hither’ motion you directed to earlier. You’re going to love teaching him, you realize, as he soaks up every lesson you grace him with, responding back as a student more enthusiastic than you.

Overwhelming gratitude falls over you in heavy bursts, trickling down your spine like a thick rainfall. Grinding softly, you lean forward and swallow his fingers in your heat.

You’re not sure if he’s trying to be subtle or doing it subconsciously, though you don’t have the energy to ponder; his cock, not hard, rubs against your leg as your whines and huffs kiss his ears.

“Gods, you’re better than I imagined.” He says against your temple as you lean forward for support, fingers curling in a mind-numbing race that leaves you unable to respond. You moan loudly at the image this paints; him, fucking his fist or his pillow, stifling his whines as he imagines you bent over, mouth open and saying his name. Jayce, Jayce.

You find yourself hurrying, grinding your clit as hard as possible till it hurts. You’ve been on the edge for ages, and now you find yourself overwhelmed by the sense of all around you. Each push of his fingers into you follows the grind of his hips, and you hope he’s imagining taking you, how the warmth of you would envelop his cock.

One proper twist has your legs buckling, clenching as deep as possible around his fingers as your hips stutter. You’re huffing in his ear and he whimpers in yours, dragging his oversensitive cock against the curve of your thigh, and oh, Jayce—

Your head falls against his shoulder. You feel as though you’ve been beaten, dragged, and wrung out— but in a good way, akin to the soreness that follows a massage.

Kissing up his neck when you find yourself, you peck at the spot you left before. He sighs happily, readjusting you in his arms.

“So,” he says, and you can feel his voice vibrate against your lips. You imagine his neck words are partnered with an excited grin, masking the uncertainty he showcased earlier, “how’d I do?”

my inbox is open! feel free to leave comments/ requests, or maybe suggestions for a part two…?

[txttletale]

hey what DO you watch on youtube? seems like you'd have some neat recommendations :3

i really loathe the like super-highly edited sound effect post-mrbeast slop most of youtube is now so i mostly like stuff that's like... calm and sedate. stuff i've been watching lately in no particular order:

northernlion vods and clips. he's an OG. i especially like his react court series, i must have watched all of them like five times.

speaking of OGs i've been watching zero puncutation (now fully ramblomatic) for like ten years and if anything it's only gotten better. best game review content on the internet. been really enjoying his more recent, slightly longer and more thoughtful 'extra punctuation/semi-ramblomatic' series too.

any austin's skyrim unemployment rate videos. instant classics to me, it's just a guy going around in skyrim trying to figure out the unemployment rate in every town. it's a very dry kind of humour, he plays it admirably straight, and it's weirdly calming.

kitten arcader's foot the bill videos. in a kind of similar vein, he watches the saw movies and then produces an itemized bill for everything jigsaw needed to buy to make his traps. it's kind of like... if cinemasins was fundamentally curious instead of fundamentally incurious, it scratches a similar sort of nitpicky detail-oriented quantifying itch but without inimical to the concept of art.

shuffle up and play. it's a magic the gathering play series that has enough editing that the gamestate is actually legible but not enough editing (or at least, not enough obtrusive in-your-face editing) that its annoying. i also like that they reguilarly play non-edh formats like cube and pauper.

spice8rack. i'm pretty picky about video essays but spice8rack has very obviously actually read books and has interesting things to say about the topics it discusses (mostly magic: the gathering). sometimes it has a kind of grating Theater Kid Energy but the fact that it actually meaningfully structures essays and analysis to earn the silly long runtimes is a rare delight from a video essayist.

jenny nicholson is a long-time favourite and another permanent fixture in my rotation. she's just extremely, remarkably funny which makes her the only 'basically just summarizing a thing' youtuber i think is worth the time of day.

i watch some sketch comedy, mainly wizards with guns and aunty donna, who both consistently put out really funny stuff that's kind of ITYSL-adjacent in its barefaced absurdism and contenmpt for concepts like "stopping a joke at the logical punchline". i also really like alasdair beckett-king and binging the old clickhole backlog for short-form comedy on youtube.

wolfeyvgc is right on the edge of the level of editing i find tolerable but as a long-time fan of multiple esports he Has It, he's absolutelyt fantastic at t elling the narrative of a tournament, explaining plays clearly, and generally making competitive pokemon esports thrilling and interesting ti someone (me) who#s never played it and doesn't care about pkoemon that much

i religously watch every elliespectacular/dathings YTP, the absolute best in the game right now, top tier snetence mixing and really good at actually setting up and paying off jokes in a way it feels like a lot of ytp doesn't. verytallbart is also pretty good.

trapperdapper is a channel i recently binged, it's a really fucking funny parody of minecraft challenge content that veers slowly from obvious angles of parody into pure absurdism with tons of blink-and-you'll miss it subtle visual gags.

too much future is a great youtube series where the two guys from just king things/homestuck made this world play through every fallout game and analyze them in that context. extremely funny and also just top-tier very sharp analysis. really good

another one of the rare good video essayists is jan misali. they're really funny and will go into topics that kind of seem narrow or strange to begin with in such depth and make them so interesting that it's consistently astonishing.

oh and finally sarah z makes pretty good videos. 'the narcissist scare' is an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of one of the most annoying pop-psych phenomena of the last couple years. and remarkably well script supervised i think did anyone else watch it and think 'wow the script supervisor on this must have been, a mind geniuse'

ok i think that's all i've been watching lately. hope you like whcihever of these recs you check out :)

[yuechihua]

send me off to sleep (by your side).

summary: You've made an unofficial deal with Harumasa: you'll stay by his side, and help him sleep peacefully every night. You'll always make good on your promise, even if he takes on a form you no longer recognize.

notes: 4.9k words, author's notes, spoilers for harumasa's backstory, sleeping side by side, ambiguous relationship/feelings, major character death, fluff at the beginning, hurt/no comfort at the end

It’s the sunlight that first pulls you from sleep: unfamiliar, buttery light falling across your face through half-opened blinds, coloring an apartment that isn’t yours. 

You blink, struggling to orient yourself in this unknown location: simple, spartan furniture with clean edges and neat lines which is in direct contrast to the wrinkled clothing and scattered papers and books littering every possible surface. There’s medicine bottles scattered across the nightstand next to you, fallen ones rolling on the floor and hiding, half-shadowed, under the bed.

You struggle to sit up in a bed with several different blankets and pillows tossed about like lost sailors in a storm. An arm slung across your torso, casual and possessive fingers gripping your hip, tightens. 

With the arm preventing you from fully rising, you have no option but to slump back into bed, following the curve of the arm and a pale neck to Asaba Harumasa’s face, inky hair falling across his forehead, his eyes still closed.

Your mouth parts in shock at seeing your coworker fast asleep next to you, holding onto you with an unconsciously tight grip, before the pieces of last night click in. 

Sometimes, and only sometimes, when you get off work late and you’ve missed the late night train back to your apartment, you crash at Harumasa’s place. He lives closer than you do to HSO’s head building, and sometimes you’re not in the mood to deal with sleeping on spare couches, shitty corporate coffee, and lukewarm shower stalls.

“You really can’t get enough of me,” he teased the first time you agreed to stay at his place. “Coming over like this so easily… what am I supposed to think?”

In response, you gritted your teeth, sleep deprivation and a library of paperwork waiting for you tomorrow causing your patience to wane, and say, “Not another word, Harumasa, if you want to live to see tomorrow.”

You’d started off simply with crashing on the couch, but you could never catch a single wink of sleep, not when the slightest noise would startle you, and Harumasa was prone to nightmares and shuffling around in the early hours of the morning in his kitchen or bathroom to clear his head.

At first, to help him rest easier, you only settled with chatting with him throughout the night, brewing him floral tea that was supposed to aid with sleep and trying not to fall asleep at his kitchen counter. Later, you’d tried calming music, or holding his hand until he could ease into a more peaceful rest. After that, though, you’d settled on a different compromise, because you were starting to fall asleep at your desk during work: you’d sleep in his bed with him instead, if only because a warm body seemed to ease him more than anything else.

“This is purely for… medical reasons,” you told him crisply. “Nothing else. All right?”

“Of course,” he said, but you couldn’t trust the grin creeping across his face, which you couldn’t describe as anything but “goofy” and “untrustworthy.”

And that leads you to your current predicament. Of course his apartment looks unfamiliar in the daylight; you’ve only ever stumbled in during the late nights, and left before the sun rose in order to get to work early (that, and to avoid any rumors if the two of you arrived at the office at the same time). You should be used to waking up next to Harumasa, but it still startles you every time to see him so close. 

However, the color and depth of the sunlight, and the fact your alarm isn’t the reason you woke up causes unease trickles through your veins.

“Harumasa,” you hiss. “Harumasa!”

He still doesn’t stir, and you shake his shoulder until he blearily blinks his eyes. “Hm… Wha…”

It’s at this point you can shake off his relentless grip, lunging for the night stand to pick up your phone and to see, with growing horror, the bright “11:24 AM” on your screen, along with several texts and a missed call from Yanagi.

“We’re late. Oh my god. We’re late!” you say, finally leaping out of Harumasa’s bed. Where are your clothes? Scattered on the floor alongside Harumasa’s. You’re in nothing but a tank top and athletic shorts, and you pick up your white dress shirt, now unbearably creased. You’ll need to get it ironed later, but you have more pressing issues to worry about as you slip one arm through the sleeve.

“Oh. Is that all?” Harumasa says lazily.

“Is that all? Come on! We’re three hours late for work!”

“It’s fine. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Come on, get up!” you say, swiftly buttoning your shirt closed, reaching over to his supine body and giving his shoulder a light smack. “Yanagi’s going to give you overtime if you keep sleeping.”

At your words, Harumasa finally sits bolt upright in bed, eyes widening. “My pants are over there! Throw them over, quick!”

You reach down and toss him a pair of wrinkled black slacks. The two of you rush to get ready in the next ten minutes, taking turns running in and out of the bathroom and throwing together some bland, packaged food for breakfast from Harumasa’s kitchen cabinets. 

You pull on your coat, teal and crisp and a mandatory part of the official HSO uniform, but it’s wrinklier than you remember. But there’s no time to worry about your outfit, so you pin your ID to the front and slip on your loafers, tapping the front of each toe lightly on the floor.

Harumasa pauses, leaning against the doorway of his bedroom as he watches you. There’s an expression that’s strangely tender on his face.

“What?” you ask. “Something on my face?”

“No. I just think you look nice,” he says. You wait for a joke to follow his words, but nothing does.

“Thanks. You look nice, too,” you add. Might as well pay him his compliment back. “Now, let’s go!”

There’s no time to deal with the caprices of public transport, the afternoon rush or the inefficient wait times, so you take off at a brisk jog down the streets instead, Harumasa following at his own lackadaisical pace.

“I can’t believe I slept past my alarms,” you lament. 

“That might have been my fault,” Harumasa says. “I think I pressed snooze on all of them.”

“What? Why?”

“I wanted to sleep in,” he says.

You purse your lips. “Well, I didn’t!”

“I also thought you looked cute so I didn’t want you to wake up,” he says conversationally. “Sorry.”

The image of Harumasa, propped up on one elbow, watching you sleep with a smile playing on his mouth, rises to mind, unbidden. You push it away; there’s no point in letting yourself wander down that path. 

Harumasa is a smooth-talker, carefree and light, like a dandelion puff that’ll blow whichever way the wind will carry it. He’s your coworker, someone who you trust and tease in equal measure. You care about him, more than is safe, but despite the fact you sleep in his bed, there’s so much you don’t know about him.

Where do his nightmares come from? What condition requires him to take so many pills? Why does he let you in his arms, but not his heart? He never explains, so you never ask.

If he had tried to touch you any of those nights together, you wouldn’t have pushed him away. But there’s a line he never crosses with you. He holds you tightly, desperately, as if he doesn’t want you to leave, but he never reaches out first.

His desires are contradictory and confusing, and so hard for you to piece together. Harumasa is like a skittish animal, keeping inches away from your outstretched hands, yet unable to keep his hungry gaze away from you.

“Oh, please. You’ve seen me sleep a hundred times before,” you say, tone teasing. “I don’t know why today is so different. You’ll see it a hundred times in the future, too.”

You no longer hear Harumasa’s footsteps behind you, so you turn. He’s stopped in the middle of the sea of people rushing by, like water around rocks. You’re suddenly displaced from the stream of crowds around you, all with their lives, their goals, their dreams, so unknown and alien to you.

What does Harumasa want to say to you? There’s something trapped in his gaze, his throat, the way he worries at the edge of his lip with his teeth, as if biting back some ugly truth. The same things he’s always hidden from you, from Section Six, from the rest of the world.

“I haven’t had any nightmares lately. I haven’t properly thanked you for that,” Harumasa says. He’s only a few feet away, but it feels like there’s miles between the two of you, oceans and canyons that you can’t traverse to reach wherever he’s speaking from.

“You can thank me after work,” you say. “Take me out to eat, if you feel bad.”

“Sure. We’ll go somewhere nice. You can choose.”

“Maybe we can bring the others along,” you add. “Soukaku will feel left out if we get something tasty without her, and Miyabi and Yanagi have been working hard these past few weeks.”

“Now you’re adding people without asking me? Do you want me to go bankrupt?”

He’s the same as he always is, with his carefree attitude and casual jokes, the way he keeps the mood light. Why, then, do you still feel so distant from Harumasa? Like he’ll be swept off into this crowd of people and you’ll never see him again?

“Harumasa.” You stride forward and circle his wrist with your hand, an anchor to keep him moored to your side. “I’ll be here for you, you know that, right? I’ll stay with you every night for as long as you need. I want to support you. You can tell me anything.”

Harumasa smiles ruthfully. “You’re too good to me. What if I take advantage of that?”

“I’ll let you,” you say quietly.

His breath hitches, his eyes dropping, as if searching for the right answer on the pavement beneath him. “The only thing I’ll ask you to do is to keep staying with me every night. Just help me sleep.”

“All right.”

He wiggles his hand free from your grasp until he can ghost his fingers along your palm, slowly intertwining your fingers together. His touch is as tentative as a butterfly’s kiss. You’re afraid to move, as if he’ll vanish if you do. “And I trust you. I know there’s a lot you’re curious about, but I need some time. There’s some unfinished business I need to deal with, first.”

“Take your time,” you say. “I’ll be waiting.”

Harumasa squeezes your hand briefly before letting go. “Also, this doesn’t bother me, but you do realize we’re still late to work, right?”

Shit. You glance at your phone, and the bright number makes you want to faint. “Let’s hurry! We’ll talk after work, all right? You still owe me that meal!”

The two of you race down the street (well, you run and Harumasa languidly follows a step behind), and you swear you can hear Harumasa’s quiet laughter all the way to the office. 

You don’t stop your frantic pace even as you check into the Hollow Special Operatives building, scanning your ID and bursting into the elevator, riding it all the way to your floor, where the doors pop open to a scowling Yanagi. 

“I’m so sorry!” you cry, explanations and apologies bubbling from your mouth. “Yanagi, this was extremely unprofessional of me, and I promise I’ll never be this late without prior notice again. If—”

“It’s okay,” Yanagi says, cutting in with a sigh. “You’re not normally this late. I was worried something happened to you.” 

“Tsukishiro, you’re so kind to us,” Harumasa says, grinning. 

“Asaba! This is your sixth time arriving late–” Abruptly, Yanagi stops her scolding, looking at Harumasa with a confused expression, before her eyes drift back to you. You can see something click in her thoughts as a mixture of recognition, shock, and weary acceptance play across her face in rapid measure. “I hope the two of you remember HR protocol for office relationships,” she says finally. “I have no feelings on your personal relationship outside of work, as long as… you don’t let it affect your performance.”

“What?” you say. Yanagi’s lips are pursed, and Harumasa’s expression is smugly pleased, like a cat with a particularly juicy piece of fish. Your eyes naturally drift from Harumasa, whose jacket isn’t as baggy and oversized as usual and instead looks strangely familiar, all the way to your own body, where you see that it’s not your jacket, but Harumasa’s jacket, hanging off your shoulders.

Shit. In the morning rush, you’d probably grabbed the wrong coat off the floor. That’s most likely why Harumasa had looked at you so oddly, too. 

Harumasa must notice the dawning horror on your face, because he adds, in a voice that makes you want to kick him, “Don’t worry, Tsukishiro. We’d never act so unprofessional in the workplace.”

“Yanagi, this isn’t… We’re not… There’s a perfectly good explanation for…” Any excuses that come to mind fall flat. What could you say without making the situation worse? Throw Harumasa under the bus and explain that you sleep with him to help with his nightmares? Or that you stay at his apartment when you’re too exhausted to return to your own? Both of those sounded like a professional nightmare in their own right.

“Yes?” Yanagi says patiently.

“I’ll… be careful,” you finally say.

“All right. If you need anything, let me know,” she says, patting you on the shoulder.

“Tsukishiro, this is obvious favoritism!” Harumasa protests lightly.

“Favoritism? I’ve been fighting to get all of your sick leave requests approved, even though you’ve exceeded your limit for the month.”

“Point taken.”

“Now, since the two of you are here… If you’re ready to head out, I need one of you to head out to Hollow Zero,” Yanagi says. “Section Four has requested back-up, and since Soukaku and Chief Miyabi are checking out a different disturbance, I haven’t been able to go since I’m handling business here.”

“When did they request help?” you say. “If we’ve been keeping them waiting…”

“Don’t worry,” Yanagi says. “The request only came a few minutes ago. I was considering leaving to handle it, but then the two of you showed up.”

“Of course. Then I’ll–”

“I’ll go,” Harumasa announces, interrupting you with a cheeky wave of his hand. “I owe it to my, ah, coworker, don’t I, for causing so much trouble?”

“You want to volunteer for additional work?” you ask dubiously.

“Well, consider this a repayment for everything you’ve done for me. Would that suffice? Oh, and not to worry–I’ll still treat you to a good meal after, even if I have to drag my poor, bruised body to the restaurant.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” you say. 

“I’m sure.” Harumasa raises his hand, as if he means to touch you in some way, but it simply hovers in the air before he gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, the same as Yanagi had done. It’s both relieving and disappointing. “So start thinking about what you want to eat. Oh, Tsukishiro, you and the rest are invited, too.”

“You’re treating us to dinner? Are you going to pull something ridiculous later?” Yanagi asks, with the same disbelief you had.

“Not at all! Think of it as some good old gratitude. I owe everyone here a lot. So look forward to it.” He spins on his heel to press the elevator button again. “All right, time to head out!”

There’s so much you want to say to Harumasa, and so much you can’t. But he has promised you the truth, eventually, so you won’t push him further. You can only take this quiet snapshot of him in your head, his loose posture, his rumpled clothes, the way your jacket is tied low on his waist.

It comforts you that he’ll have this piece of you with him, like a lucky charm. If he won’t ask for his jacket back, then you won’t ask for yours.

“Come back soon,” you say. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’ll be back.” Harumasa smiles briefly before the doors slide shut and separate the two of you.

The majority of the day passes in a blur of menial office tasks, paperwork and reports, with cheap, filtered coffee carrying you through it all. You drink yours bitterly black, and think of Harumasa. A few hours later, Soukaku and Miyabi return, covered in light scrapes and bruises that will fade within the day. 

“Welcome back,” you tell them, standing to greet them near the entrance.

Soukaku bounds up to wrap her arms around your waist in a tight hug, and you ruffle her hair. “Where’s Harumasa?” she asks.

“Out providing support to Section Four,” you say. “He’ll probably be back before the end of the day. How was your mission?”

“Fine. There wasn’t much trouble,” Miyabi says. 

“By the way, Harumasa is going to treat us to dinner tonight,” you add, fiddling with the ends of Harumasa’s jacket sleeve.

“Yay!” Soukaku says. “Let’s get meat!”

“Grilled meat,” you supply. “The best kind.”

“Premium cut…” Miyabi muses.

“Don’t ask too much from him,” Yanagi adds, looking up briefly from her desk to address the three of you. 

“You don’t want premium grade meat, Yanagi?”

“Well…”

“Take the time to think about it,” you tease.

The rest of the time pours away in a sluggish trickle. As the sky reddens to a color like pooling blood, Harumasa still hasn’t returned. It’s taking more time than you expected. All you can do is tug at the ends of Harumasa’s jacket sleeves in nervous habit, watching the teal fabric fall over your hands. It hasn’t lost his scent yet. 

Perhaps the others have sensed your unease, because the mood is more sombre than usual. Even Soukaku is quietly fidgeting at her desk, the entire office enveloped in a fragile, waiting silence.

Harumasa likes to act lackadaisical, but you know from firsthand experience that he’s competent. Besides, he’s promised to come back and tell you the things he’s been hiding. And he still has to take you and the rest of Section Six to dinner. 

This is a simple back-up mission, you remind yourself. Yanagi hadn’t mentioned any complications. It would be fine. Harumasa would come back late with some excuse, you would tease him, the entire office would have dinner together, and then you would go to his apartment and curl up in his bed, and maybe hold him a little tighter than usual tonight. It would almost be as if you and Harumasa are the lovers Yanagi thought you two were. 

The elevator dings, and you hear rapid footsteps on the carpet. Your head whips up as someone stumbles into the office—it’s not Harumasa, and your heart tightens with disappointment. Instead, it’s a person with tattered clothing whose Section Four ID is, oddly enough, still pinned to their chest, caked in a layer of blood, dust, and sweat, familiar bow in their hands, dry mouth gasping as if they’ve run all the way over without stopping, “There’s been an accident. The operative you’ve sent… Asaba Harumasa… turned into an Ethereal.”

Blood roars in your ears, a sudden, swelling ocean overtaking you. Harumasa? An Ethereal? It’s not a very funny joke, but the Section Four officer is blinking away tears. You’re standing–when did you get up?–and Yanagi and Miyabi are urgently pelting the person with questions. 

All you can see is the dulled blades of Harumasa’s weapon, glinting coolly in the person’s hands. There’s a coating of grime over the metal, and the handles have been dirtied. It needs to be cleaned and returned to Harumasa. You want nothing more than to yank it out of the person’s hands. 

The operative sees your expression, and holds out the weapon. Their voice is still hoarse and shaking as they say, “It’s all we could retrieve. I’m sorry.”

You grip the bow in your hands. The weight of it is comfortable if heavier than you expected, like holding a piece of Harumasa himself. Pieces of the conversation drift to you, but you can’t quite make out what they mean. Something about the Hollow fluctuating and their carrot being useless, getting lost and overwhelmed by Ethereals, and Harumasa using himself as a distraction. Doubling back when someone was separated from the team. Staying behind, finally, to ensure everyone could get out safely, until his own body betrayed him and he changed into an Ethereal, so rapidly no one could do anything.

There are other words, too, but they don’t make sense. You don’t want to hear them from a stranger, and not from Harumasa himself. Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome. High likelihood of mutation in a Hollow. A fatally terminal illness.

It’s wrong, you want to say. Harumasa has promised to take you to dinner. He likes to mess around, but he’s a good person. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t leave you behind like this.

Something cool touches your numb body. It’s Miyabi, and she’s put a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you to look at her. It’s a clear, gentle cold, somehow comforting, as she watches you intently. 

“We have to go,” she says quietly. “The Ethereal has been designated a high-level threat. We’ve been assigned to dispatch it.”

“It’s Harumasa,” you tell her, your voice clumsy and whiny, even to your own ears.

Her expression doesn’t change. “I know. But these people need us. And he needs you.”

You want to cry. You want to laugh. You want to run away. But all you can think about is Harumasa. His golden eyes luminous in the late night as he whispers to you. The way blue dawn light cradles his face, peaceful and unguarded in sleep. His smile, always so teasing, always so gentle, always shining down on you like the sun.

There’s so much you still don’t understand. About him. About your relationship. Why he keeps a certain distance from you, but never draws away when you approach him. Why he opens his arms to you every night, like it’s the only place you belong. Why you count the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breaths when he slumbers, reassuring yourself that he’s still there. Now, the only one who can answer these questions is gone.

And you know. Miyabi is right. You must go. There is no other choice but this.

On the way there, you move like you’re in a dream. Your preparations are swift, and you’re out the door and driving to Hollow Zero before you can make sense of it. During the car ride, you clutch Harumasa’s bow like a lifeline. Soukaku sniffles, and Yanagi puts an arm around her. Miyabi is only looking at the Hollow stretching out in front of you. Once you step out of the car, with one gesture from her, the four of you venture in. 

It’s a painfully quiet trek amidst crumbling debris and corrupted growth. The four of you move swiftly, in sync as always, but there’s something missing: Harumasa, his absence like a black hole in your formation. There’s no jokes, no quips, no teasing. Only grim silence as you approach the location in your carrot.

You hear Harumasa before you see him: the scrape of blade against the resisting ground, an endless, dull roaring, like the distant echo of the ocean. He lurks beautifully in the distance, a core like the night sky nestled against twisted neon yellow and white flesh. He circles around in a tight, restless loop, as if, even in this form, he can’t be bothered to venture far. 

For a second, the four of you can only watch him quietly, hidden by a pile of stacked, blocky concrete that shields you from his notice. A flicker of teal catches your eye, buried in the rubble near Harumasa. It’s your jacket. You look away.

“I’ll draw his attention,” Yanagi begins. “Then, the rest of you can–”

“Let me do it,” you interrupt her. 

“You want to be the distraction?”

“No,” you say levelly. “There’s only one thing I can do for him right now.”

Yanagi’s eyes widen as your meaning sinks in. “It’s dangerous,” she protests. “It’s safer if we approach this as a team.”

“Will you be able to deal the blow?” Miyabi says. She’s watching you intently again, and there’s something sad in her gaze. 

You’ve watched Harumasa assemble his weapon countless times, but you don’t have his practiced ease as you unsheathe his blades and clumsily combine them into a bow. It’s not your preferred weapon choice, even if you’ve been trained in it, but it’s his, so you can use nothing else.

“I have to,” you say.

Miyabi nods. “Then I leave you with this decision.”

“If you’re sure,” Yanagi says softly. “It’ll be difficult, but I believe in you.”

“Harumasa sounds sad. You’ve gotta help him,” Soukaku says. It’s one of the first things she’s said during the mission, and you can see the drying tears on her face. It makes your heart ache.

“I’ll be there for him,” you tell her. “Don’t worry.”

With one final breath and a last glance at Section Six, you step out into the open, exposing yourself to Harumasa. An unknown bow can be finicky, but Harumasa’s weapon responds easily to your demands, bending with a grace and swiftness as you notch an arrow. You remember his movements, the assured, flowing gestures of his fighting style. You spread your feet apart, as he would have done, searching for the perfect location to strike.

You need to hit him before he notices you, but Harumasa turns. You tense, bracing to enter combat, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he stills, as if he’s finally found what he’s been looking for. 

There’s no way he knows it’s you. There’s not even a face anymore for him to watch you, not a single part of him that’s familiar. The curve of his back, the dip of his shoulders, the hollow of his throat: it’s all gone. So why isn’t he moving?

Your fingers shake as you draw the string back, careful not to take your eyes off of him.

It’s the most ridiculous moment for it, but you still remember the first time you started sleeping by his side. You’d both been sitting on the edge of his bed, draped in velvet shadows, unsure of the time. Neither of you were able to sleep. You could have, but you didn’t feel comfortable snoring away on Harumasa’s couch while he stared aimlessly at his own ceiling.

“How about this? I’ll sleep next to you,” you finally said. 

He lets out a small, surprised laugh. “Why?”

“Because I want you to sleep well,” you said. “I’ll stay by your side until you can.”

And it’s just like you once promised Harumasa. You would stay by his side until the end so he wouldn’t be alone, even if this time you can’t follow him where he’s going. After all, you want him to sleep peacefully. 

Harumasa—No. It’s no longer him. The Ethereal is still watching you, as if it’s waiting for your decision. It raises its arms, slowly, but no blow comes. They only hover in the air, outstretched like a supplication.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice ragged with tears. You fire. Your arrow strikes swift and true.

What happens next is a blur. The Ethereal crumples in one blow, melting away like a sigh. Yanagi, Soukaku, and Miyabi appear, hugging you and whispering reassurances that fall on you like warm rain. You’re led out of the Hollow, still gripping Harumasa’s bow like you’ll fall to pieces without it.

It’s confusing to be back at the office. Yanagi disappears to file reports, bringing Soukaku with her. Tomorrow, you’ll need to clear Harumasa’s desk, and prepare for his funeral. But it all feels so distant, so unreal. As if he could still walk through the door, and protest at your hasty decisions.

Miyabi hands you a tattered pile of dirty rags—Harumasa’s clothing, or what’s left of it. There’s his (your) jacket, barely clinging together, his headband, grimy at the ends, and his choker, the metal dented.

“It’s what I could find for now,” she says quietly. “I’ll give you the rest tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you say in a hoarse voice, not trusting yourself to say any more. 

After that, Yanagi calls you a taxi, and when the driver asks where you’re headed, you give them Harumasa’s address.

His apartment is just as you left it. Still warm with the lingering scent of sunshine, the blinds open and the city lights glittering like stars. Empty dishes and glasses in the sink. A full trash can, which needs to be taken out. His blankets askew, unmade, left with nothing but a cool indent of where he once slept by your side.

You curl up on his bed, snuggling into his blankets, still wearing his jacket, too exhausted to do much more than hug his tattered clothes to you. You can still smell his scent, refreshing and slightly bitter, sunk into the pillows.

There will be no body to bury. There will be no answers. There will be no one to return to anymore.

You close your eyes. You dream. And if you hug his clothes tightly enough, you can pretend that it’s Harumasa by your side, arm around your waist. In the morning, you’ll see the light spill across his face, and smile.

[musingsofmajesty]

𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐕

pairing shy eddie x flirty reader | summary it’s valentines’s day, and for the first time ever, Eddie’s got himself a true valentine. And when he runs out of words to say, he’s grateful to have his guitar | fluff, mildly suggestive | wc 1.8k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

Eddie’s palms are warm where they rest over your eyes. Getting through the door of his trailer is an awkward, giggly shuffle, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. The small teddy bear he’d gifted you at school earlier that morning is hugged to your chest like a prize. 

In another life, he would’ve trusted you to keep your eyes closed as he led you inside, but not this one. Someway, somehow, you would’ve found a reason to peek, then flash him a sweet smile as a means of asking for forgiveness. 

So he took matters into his own hands. 

After you’ve managed to make it inside, he huffs out a relieved breath and your smile grows even wider. 

“Alright, you ready?” he asks, voice soft near your ear. 

“Yes,” you insist, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

“Three…two…one…” 

He lowers his hands from your eyes. 

You blink a few times to orient yourself. After that, a surge of warmth is quick to travel through you. The Munson living room is tidier than you’ve ever seen it. Two heart shaped balloons grace the ceiling. Rose petals are sprinkled around the pink gift bag that rests on the coffee table. 

You take a few steps forward, but can’t help but turn around to look back at him where he stands. He’s chewing on his lower lip, hands shoved into his pockets. Nobody had gone through such an effort on Valentine’s Day for you since you were a little girl. He blinks at you with soft, anticipating eyes. 

“All this for me?” you ask. It’s the only way you can think to voice your initial surprise. 

He chuckles as if there could possibly be anybody else. 

“I’m just making sure,” you lightly defend before walking over to sit down on the couch. Eddie follows and sits down beside you. 

Your cheeks warm as he watches, fondness radiating from his gaze. “You’re making me all nervous, watching me like that.”  The pleasant, fluttery type of nervousness. Your eyes flick to him after pulling the bag closer to yourself. 

“Don’t be,” he says with a sincere shrug of his shoulder. “It’s just me.” 

“That’s the problem,” you murmur, almost petulantly. “You’re everything.”

Eddie huffs out a breath that’s caught somewhere between amusement and denial. But he doesn’t say anything as his own cheeks prickle, shaking his head. 

A smile stretches across your face as you finally reach into the gift bag. 

The first thing your fingers grasp are the drawstrings of a small velvet bag. It’s a deep, forest green. Upon pulling it open, your mouth falls open at the sight of two dainty steel rings inside. One has a small pearl accent and the other is shaped like a snake. You all but gush as you slip them onto your fingers. 

Eddie’s shoulders finally relax. 

“Now I’m more like you.” You make it sound like a good thing as you show him your hand and wiggle excitedly. Your nails are a pretty cherry red. “These are perfect, Eddie,” you sigh. 

Then you add lightly, “You really pay attention, huh?”

Of course he does. He always did—was glad to.

Naturally, when you began fawning over his rings one evening, he made a mental note to get you some of your own from the place he liked shopping at. They specialized in more intricate designs that contrasted the simple ones you gravitated towards before him.

This came, of course, came after you’ve already managed to bum a couple from his own collection. He could never say no when you batted your eyelashes and gave him sweet kisses to soothe over the fact that you were taking his belongings. 

“There’s one more thing,” he says, nodding to the bag.

This time, you pull out a cassette tape. A mixtape, rather. There’s a list of songs written out in his blocky handwriting along with little doodles. Most of them are titles he’s gathered are some of your favorites—What a Feeling, Open Your Heart, When Doves Cry, Manic Monday, Rock With You, Don’t Stop Believin’…—But the last track brings a wistful smile to your face. 

“Master of Puppets is on here too…” 

It’s the song he was listening to the day you worked up the courage to go sit with him at lunch. He’d taken off his headphones, only for you to promptly slip them on. His soul had left his body at the idea of you gaining further insight into his heavy music taste, but after a few seconds, you’d smiled at at him and begun bobbing your head. 

Now you know all the lyrics. 

You’re not exactly sure why tears spring to your eyes, but they do. And they slip down your cheeks before you know it. You chuckle despite yourself, and wipe them away with your thumbs. Eddie’s heart drops a little even though he knows you aren’t sad. 

He scoots closer and drapes an arm over your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks. 

You nod and nuzzle into his shoulder. “Thank you,” you murmur. 

“Of course.”

Later that night, after going out to eat at the diner, you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor and combing through a small box of his guitar picks. They’re all different colors. Some have fun patterns and designs.

You eventually pluck out a light yellow one that reminds you of springtime. You hold it up to Eddie, where he sits on the foot of his bed with his acoustic guitar in his lap. 

“Nice choice,” he says as he strums a pretty, nonchalant series of notes. 

“Thanks,” you chirp through a yawn. 

He hums and continues strumming. At first, you think he’s still warming up, but a proper melody emerges soon enough. It’s a soulful, almost folky sound. Nothing like he’s ever played at the Hideout, and you don’t recognize it as being a cover of any song you know.

His eyes remain on the fingerboard as he plays, and when he chances a glance down at you, there’s a certain weight to his gaze. As if the notes are saying everything he has yet to say.  

Suddenly, you’re wide awake. You can feel him in the notes. You can feel yourself too. 

You’re entranced and awed as you sit and listen. You watch his fingers and the concentrated furrow between his brows until the song eventually slows to a close. Just like that, his Bambi eyes drift steadily back to you. He holds your gaze for a few seconds until you feel compelled to stand on your knees and move into space to the space between his legs. 

Without so much as thinking, he brings a hand to your cheek and leans forward to press his lips to yours, ignoring the way his guitar gently digs into his chest. It’s a tender, weighted kiss. Eddie feels like he’s floating. 

“Did you write that?” you whisper against his lips after pulling back some. 

He nods. “What’d you think?” 

You’re quiet as you run your fingertips along the stubble on his jaw. “I might need to hear it again,” you say, but a smile plays in your voice. “And again, and again, and again…” you kiss him again, with more intention and eagerness. 

A small sound rises up Eddie’s throat, and he doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed. Because you part from him and stand, pressing a gentle hand to his chest in a silent request for him to lay back. After setting his guitar aside, he listens, scooting further up on the mattress so the lower half of his body is more supported.

His mind is so fuzzy that he doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but you crawl onto the bed and straddle yourself over his lap. It’s a bold move, even for you. But it feels like the next sensible thing to do. You’ve never felt so safe or drawn to another person.

“Is this okay?” you ask as you look down at him. 

Eddie surprises himself with a flustered laugh. You’re a pretty girl straddling him in your pretty Valentine’s Day outfit, and not even he’s immune to the warmth that stirs in low his gut. And he keeps laughing because of the intimacy of it all.

His hands buzz with the desire to touch you, but he doesn’t know where or how much pressure to apply. Whether or not you’ll take it the wrong way. 

Lucky for you, he’s got just about the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard. You can’t help but smile, even though you wish you could pout at him for laughing at a time like this. But something about the sound rumbling through his chest, puts you at ease. 

“See, now I’m starting to second guess myself ‘cause of you.” You’re teasing, but Eddie’s eyes go a bit wide. 

“I’m not laughing at you,” he starts. “I promise. Never.” 

“No, it’s okay. I see how it is.”  You pretend like you’re about to move off of him. 

But his hands shoot out to rest on your waist. His hold isn’t harsh, but it’s firm and steady enough to let you know he wants you to stay. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. When a tell-tale smirk stretches across your face, Eddie lets out a helpless sigh.  

“I’m starting to think you get a rise out driving me crazy,” he says. 

“If it’s taken you this long to figure that out—”

A squeal escapes you when he gently squeezes your waist a couple times. You grip onto his wrists with an anxious grin on your face, and he brushes his thumbs over your shirt to let you know you can relax. When you let go, he lets his hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt so they can settle on your skin. You’re soft and warm. It feels like you’ve known his touch for a lifetime. 

You note the way he starts blinking slower, as if his eyelids have grown heavier. The way his breaths grow a bit deeper, steadier. His curls look beautiful splayed around his head. The cut of his jawline is handsome even as he’s lying down. You can’t help but think you lucked out with this quiet, charming, handsome boy. 

When you shift over top of him, he shifts as well. As if to counter whatever feeling you’ve caused to stir within him. But it doesn’t quite work out. Not really. His cheeks have flushed a rosy shade of pink at the intoxicating weight of you overtop of him. 

“Sorry,” you lilt coyly. 

Eddie shakes his head because, as new as this all is, he’d never trade it. Never in a million years. And as he smooths his hands back down your thighs, he swears he’ll handle you with care for all the days of his life, if you let him. 

“Don’t be,” he assures. 

Thank you so much for reading! And Happy Valentine's Day. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated ♡

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DAY BY DAY MASTERLIST

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Where You Belong

Fem!Reader When you move into a house with 8 men for six months, one seems to be do everything he can to make you stay. <pt3 pt4 pt5>

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

You felt the heat of his breath against your skin, the sensation grounding you in a moment that felt almost too vivid to be real. His hands, warm and steady and calloused, cradled your face with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

The closeness was suffocating in the best way- the way his lips brushed yours, hesitant but deliberate, made you forget about everything else. The way he made you feel was undeniable. It was safe and exhilarating all at once.

The way he touched you felt reverent- like every movement, every graze of his fingertips along your jawline, was a confession. His thumb lingered on the edge of your lower lip, and your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. The world around you faded further into obscurity, leaving only the press of his body against yours and the overwhelming heat between you.

When his lips claimed yours again, it was deeper this time- slow, exploratory, and unhurried, his teeth grazing into your bottom lip gently and leisurely, as if he was savoring every second. Your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the damp strands as you pulled him impossibly closer. There was no rush, no urgency, just a steady, all-consuming connection that left you breathless and yearning. His other hand trailed down your side, grounding you, sending a jolt through your veins.

His voice, low and gravelly, murmured your name like a secret meant only for you. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you clung to him, afraid that if you let go, the moment would shatter. The haze around you made it all the more tantalizing, and you wanted to say his name, but it was stuck in your throat. Refusing to crawl its way past the same lips interlocked with his. Then just as it started to form-

BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP-

You were in your room, tangled in your sheets, the early morning light peeking through the curtains. Your alarm was beeping and you felt dizzy.

What was that dream?

Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath. It was just a dream, you reminded yourself, though the phantom sensation of whoever you were kissing's touch lingered, trailing goosebumps along your skin.

Pressing a hand to your flushed cheek, you tried to shake the vividness of it from your mind. It was so real… too real. But who was it?

It wasn't my ex...deep down I know...but who else...

The thought followed you as you stumbled out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen, still trying to piece together the fragments of the dream. You barely had time to orient yourself before you were bombarded.

“Y/N! Morning!” Jisung practically tackled you with a hug, his bright grin melting away the remnants of your sleepy haze.

“Ji, I just woke up,” you groaned, though you couldn’t suppress the small laugh bubbling up as he clung to you like an overexcited puppy, and you leaned in, his embrace becoming something you had quickly gotten familiar with the past month.

“Doesn’t matter! Morning hugs are mandatory!” he declared, finally letting you go. "We made you breakfast since its your late day."

You couldn't help but smile as you sat down at the kitchen island next to Jeongin who for some odd reason looked guilty. 

You rose and eyebrown and sniffed the air. 

"Jeongin..."

He didn't answer.

"Innie." 

Still no answer.

You sighed. 

"Yah, Oppa." 

The fox eye boy turned to you. "Yes."

"Did you use my shampoo again?"

"Why would you think that?" He asked with a serious face.

"Because it smells like green apples."

"Are you sure you aren't smelling the apple slices on your plate? You eat them so much you could become a green apple."

You stood up to sniff his hair. Not noticing the onslaught of eyes on you.

"Yah, is our baby bread finally making moves?" Chris teased but before he could answer you smacked Jeongin's arm.

"You dingbat! You smell like green apples- that shampoo set cost me fifty dollars! It's hair care repair!" You exclaimed emphasizing each word with a smack.

"Ah! I said I didn't- is that anyway to speak to your elder- AH HYUNG SHE'S CHOKEHOLDING ME-"

You didn't notice as a pair of quiet eyes zoned in on your interaction with the youngest man, as you interacted with anyone in the house.

They’d all welcomed you like family, with the exception of some awkward moments, but soon it just felt like a household of siblings, you being the baby and the girl. And moments like this did nothing but prove that dynamic.

But the adjustment wasn’t without its bumps. On both sides. Some bumps hidden, some more prominent.

Like balancing your own job while trying to navigate their chaotic schedules had left you stretched thin.

Still, moments like these made it worth it.

Felix’s pancakes, Jisung’s endless jokes, the way Hyunjin would teach you to paint on your off time like he was Bob Ross, the way Seungmin would tease you in his quiet, sharp-witted way, and Chris and Changbin treated you as if you were their sister- even the still tense moments you had with Minho it all felt like home in a way you hadn’t expected.

Even if you wish the moments with the latter would become eased. 

You overall enjoyed eveerything, from the busy mornings, to the late nights hearing the boys in their makeshift studio, even if it meant you got a few less hours of sleep. 

Overall it made you feel like you were getting your life back on track, to be fully on your feet in the next five months. 

But things had been going too well for too long, and that afternoon your world began to crumble before it could even truly begin to mend.

The conversation from your boss had been curt, impersonal:

"We’ve decided to move in a different direction. Effective by the end of today, your position has been terminated."

You rreplayed it over and over, hoping you’d misunderstood, but the words didn’t change.

The job you’d fought so hard to keep, the stability you’d clung to, was gone in an instant. 

Just like you had lost everything with your boyfriend in an instant, this was like a moment of Deja Vu. Yet somehow the feeling felt even worse than it had when your relationship of years went down the drain.

By the time you got back to the apartment, head filled with negative thoughts as you walked home from the bus stop in drizzling rain, tears were streaming down your face. You’d tried to hold it together, but the weight of it all was too much.

You stood at the doorstep of the front porch, letting it out, not wanting anyone to see you like this. You started to wipe your face, reaching for your key.

You didn’t even realize someone was there until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you saw Chan, his expression soft with concern.

“Hey, what happened?” he asked gently, crouching slightly to meet your eyes, and setting his umbrella on the porch.

You shook your head, trying to wipe your tears away. But he reached his arms out pulling you into them.

"Its okay. You'll be okay."

The dam broke then, and you poured out everything. How you lost your job today and how it was making you feel. How it made you worried and how you were regretting everything. How you’d been feeling overwhelmed, and now burdened; how you weren’t sure what to do next. Chan listened intently, his presence solid and unwavering as he rubbed your back.

When you finally finished, he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got you,” he said firmly. “Actually, I was going to bring this up soon anyway, but now’s as good a time as any. We could really use someone to help manage our schedules and handle some of the day-to-day stuff. If you’re interested, the job’s yours. No hesitation.”

You blinked at him, the offer catching you completely off guard. “I...”

“Don't even think about saying no. Matter of fact...you start tonight."

"Chris..."

"You’re already part of the family, Y/N-ah. This just makes it official,” he said with a grin, petting your head real quick. 

You began to cry again and he pulled you back into his arms until you heard a voice from behind.

"Hyung-ah..." You turned to see Minho and Jisung looking at Chan. They'd visibly just come back from shopping, green apples and your favorite protein powder that Changbin had used up sticking out from the bag Minho was holding. 

Chris smiled and went to go help with the bags and you looked at Minho, something unrecognizable flashing through his eyes. Jisung quickly ran up to you, asking about some anime you two were planning on binging later, drawing your attention away from him.

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

Later that evening, after dinner, you found yourself sitting at the dining table, looking through a stack of potential venues for the next show the guys were planning. Chan had explained all that you needed to do for now and you were focused on doing your best to not disappoint.

The evening had settled into a calm silence after everyone ate and the boys had scattered around, some relaxing in the living room, others scrolling through their phones. It was easier to focus with the quiet; papers spread out in front of you.

The gig locations were a bit overwhelming, and despite your best efforts to focus, you felt a twinge of uncertainty. But you didn't feel uncertain enough to ask any questions just yet.

Minho approached you quietly, like a cat, his footsteps soft as he stood behind you. His gaze lingered on the papers for a moment, and then he pointed to one with a quick, no-nonsense motion.

He leaned over you and you tensed slightly.

“This one,” he said, his voice low. “It’s small. Good acoustics.”

You looked at the location he indicated, nodding slowly. It made sense now that you thought about it. More of an intimate environment, better for fan interaction. You wanted to ask if there was anything else to take into consideration, but before you could, Minho was already stepping away.

Without another word, he moved towards the kitchen. The sound of dishes clinking softly filled the space as he started cleaning up. It was a simple, quiet moment, but it felt...oddly intimate. You watching him do something so simple. You shook your head and turned back on your work, but your attention kept drifting towards him against your will.

Minho moved around the kitchen with ease, his broad shoulders and strong arms flexing as he scrubbed plates. The way he concentrated, the quiet focus in his actions, made you momentarily forget everything else. He was chewing on a piece of gum as he worked to tidy up, and the movement caught you eye more than anything.

Focus Y/N. You lucked out with this you need to focus...

Then, a soft sound caught your attention, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him setting a plate in front of you. On it, a series of apple slices, carefully cut into small, delicate rabbit shapes.

The green apples shimmered under the dim light, their crisp freshness promising a much-needed break.

“You seemed anxious at dinner,” Minho said, his voice almost absent, as though he hadn’t meant to break the silence at all. He turned back toward the kitchen, not looking at you.

You stared at the apples for a moment, feeling the quiet stillness of the room pressing in on you. You picked up a slice, biting into it, the tang of the green apple sharp and sweet.

As you chewed, your eyes lingered on Minho. He was still in the kitchen, but now he was moving with a certain rhythm- something soothing in the way he worked, purpose with every movement. The clink of the dishes, the hum of his focused energy, filled the space between you. Now did it not only feel oddly intimate but oddly comforting.

But at the same time, you noticed the tension in his posture, the subtle furrow of his brow as he wiped down the counter. He seemed lost in thought. There was something in his expression, a flicker of discomfort that you couldn’t quite place.

In the silence, you found yourself wondering what was going on in his mind. What was he thinking?

Minho’s hands paused on the counter for a second, his gaze drifting out the window, his brow still furrowed. You couldn’t read him, but there was something unmistakable in the way he seemed conflicted.

His mind was racing, and he knew it. He couldn’t quite place the odd feeling swirling inside of him.

Part of him was glad you were here, sharing space with him and the others. You were friendly, easygoing, and yet, there was something about you that got under his skin and irked him.

Was he jealous that you were becoming so close to the guys?

Was that it?

Or maybe it was just the awkwardness that had lingered from the first time he’d met you? He wasn’t sure.

But then, something shifted. It was a thought so fleeting, so strange, that it stopped him in his tracks.

When he had seen the apples at the store, he’d thought of you.

And for some reason, that thought unsettled him more than anything else.

“Maybe I’m just being a dick,” he muttered to himself, the words slipping out quietly. He was still scrubbing the countertop, but his mind was somewhere else, tangled in a mess of feelings he couldn’t untangle.

He was distant around you, so much so you seemed to be a little wary around him. But he was only distant because of this odd feeling. He had never been around girls all that much. Moving in with the guys at a rather early age. And he had much rather be in solitude than interact with others.

“Maybe I'm just not used to being around girls,” he thought, but it didn’t sit right. He knew that wasn’t entirely true. It couldn’t that simple.

And then the feeling hit him again- the odd tension, the confusion.

He wanted you around, he realized. He liked having you in the house, even though it irked him.

Maybe it was just the mess of new dynamics.

Maybe it was jealousy because it seemed to spike whenever you were hanging out with one of the guys. They had been his friends first.

So that was the most plausible solution, wasn't it?

Or maybe it was something else. He just couldn’t pinpoint it.

All he knew was there was something about you. Something that made him think about you when he sliced saw green apples, of all things.

Something that made him want to cut those apples into little rabbits, because he had seen you barely touch your plate.

Minho took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. There was no denying that whatever it was, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Not now, not with the way you were sitting there, quietly eating the apples he’d prepared for you, as you scribbled something down, quietly bouncing one of your legs.

Is she always that anxious?

He let out a quiet exhale and turned back to the sink.

“I’m definitely overthinking this,” he muttered under his breath.

But...he wasn't exactly opposed to the thought of you being in his head.

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

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[snixkers]

Tooth Fairy

Pairing: Dad!Spencer Reid × Mom!Reader

Fluff

For: Anonymous Request

Content Warnings: Losing a baby tooth, not believing in the tooth fairy, just cute family stuff

Summary: Your daughter has a loose tooth and demands her payment.

Author's Note: Ahjfjfjfjrjjrkrosowklwn, I love dad spencer so bad. y'all don't realize he's such a cutie patootie

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

Your daughter ran into the room, hopping onto the bed and jumping up and down.

“My tooth is wiggly!”

The two of you quickly jumped up, rubbing your eyes and trying to orient yourselves.

“Jenna, it’s three in the morning.” You groaned, taking a sip of water.

She shuffled closer, not caring that even the busy city of DC had yet to wake up.

“If it comes out, can I get money?”

Your husband sat up, much more coherent because he was used to waking up at odd hours.

“Yeah, the tooth fairy will visit whenever your tooth comes out. But I don’t know if it’s ready yet. Your adult tooth has to come through the gum after absorbing the root, so maybe wait a little.”

She leaned over and flicked on the light, scooting between you to show you exactly how wiggly her tooth was. You wrinkled your nose uncomfortably, but luckily, Spencer was unphased.

“Actually, I think your tooth is ready right now.”

He ushered her into the bathroom, and you followed behind, still rubbing sleep from your eyes.

Within a few minutes, there was a gap where her tooth once was.

“I’m gonna get rich.”

You shared a glance with Spencer, who was no doubt ready to shower her with money.

“We’ll see what happens. Get back in bed, okay? Mommy and Daddy will keep the tooth safe until the tooth fairy arrives.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, showing off her new grin.

“I already know there’s no tooth fairy. Can I just have the money now?”

You glared at Spencer, sure his skepticism had rubbed off on her, but he looked crestfallen.

“What, who told you that?”

She giggled before skipping off to bed. “The dentist, duh.”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Wind: Ok. I need a Healthcare Translator for some of the things I’ve heard in clinicals. I haven’t gotten the lingo down yet.

Warriors: Go for it.

Wind: “We bagged him and he perked up.”

Warriors: He stopped breathing, needed to be manually ventilated, and his oxygenation improved with that.

Wind: “He high fived Jesus.”

Legend: He almost died and then got better.

Wind: “The v fib shuffle”

Hyrule: Oh, that’s when the patient kind of jerks like they’re having a little seizure for a second right before they die - they go into v fib and die.

Wind: “Walkie talkie”

Twilight: They can walk around easily and are alert and oriented and can talk fine.

Wind: Ok and last one… *squints at paper* “living the dream”

Sky: I’m exhausted and so completely apathetic and am essentially going through the motions. I kind of want to jump off a roof, and don’t you dare resuscitate me. My will to live is so nonexistent I could get hit by an ambulance and would be grateful for it. I swear if I survive either and/or both of those things I wouldn’t even be surprised because that’s just how my life feels at this point.

Wind: SKY WHAT THE HECK

Sky: Wha—no, not ME, that’s what it translates to!

Time, nodding sagely: He isn’t wrong.

[megalony]

I Was Worried

This is my first time writing Evan Buckley from 911 but I am in love with that show and re-watching made me want to write. I'm open to take any requests for Buck or Eddie from the show. I hope you all like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) tries to convince everyone at the station that she is fine, especially her boyfriend Buck. But when she takes a bad turn out on a call, he gets panicked.

Enjoy.

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"Whatever you're cooking smells good," Buck folded his arms and leaned forward onto the counter, pushing his hips out and arching his back a little to stretch out.

It didn't really matter to Buck what Bobby was cooking, it could have been anything from cats to crocodiles and he would eat it. Half a bowl of cereal wasn't enough to keep Buck going through a hectic morning shift and it was almost two o'clock now, way past dinner. He was starving and he was desperate to eat anything Bobby cooked.

"Pasta bolognaise," Bobby looked up from the large serving bowl he was pouring the pasta into, smiling when he could see Buck's eyes widening happily.

"And garlic bread." A smile worked its way onto (Y/n)'s lips when she walked past Buck and patted his shoulder as she went. She knew her boyfriend like the back of his hand and he was very food orientated.

She felt his hand graze her lower back as she passed him and grabbed the plates from the side to set the table. They didn't know how long they would all get to eat so dinner was usually fast. Set the table within a minute, everybody down and chug the food and drink to get as much as possible before a call sounded. Half the time they gobbled food and ended up with twenty minutes left to spare and they actually got to sit and digest their food and talk. But more often than not, food was partially eaten and left to go cold while they hurried out on a call.

(Y/n) could feel a headache burning behind her eyes and igniting through to the back of her head.

For over a week now (Y/n) had been feeling off, her headaches were becoming more common and persistent and she was feeling sluggish no matter how much sleep she managed to get or how she tried to eat enough and regular to keep her energy up.

Buck had said she was starting to come down with something and now (Y/n) was slowly beginning to believe him.

When the plates were all in place and utensils were laid out in the middle of the table, (Y/n) curled her hands around the back of one of the chairs and took a second to clear her foggy head. It felt like someone was slowly pumping her head full of air and any moment it was going to burst.

"Alright, are we ready?" Chimney clapped his hands and approached the table with a grin as Hen and Eddie followed behind.

(Y/n) tried to keep smiling and slowly shuffled away from the table and towards the cupboard near the sink where they kept the glasses. She couldn't stop her breaths from becoming shaky when her fingers curled around a glass and started to tremble.

"(Y/n), you coming?" Bobby glanced back over his shoulder when he approached the table with the food. She was awfully quiet all of a sudden when normally she would be first at the table to dish out the food and pour out the drinks.

When he didn't receive an answer, he glanced over at Buck who was halfway between the kitchen and the table before he stopped in his tracks and looked across at his girl. He looked back at Bobby with furrowed brows but waved his hand out at them to signal that they could go ahead and get sat down. He turned on his heels and headed over to where (Y/n) was stood in front of the kitchen counter with her back to him.

"Babe… you okay?" His voice was quiet but when he reached out to rest a hand on (Y/n)'s arm, he could feel her subtly shaking. "What's wrong?"

"Buck…" Her head was splitting like someone was banging a drum so harshly that her head was ripping open at the seams. The thudding of her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin and pounded through her head so badly that she couldn't even see anymore. All she could make out were the black and white sparkles blinking in front of her eyes.

She could feel Buck's hands both coming up to rest on her shoulders and his lips merged against the back of her head but she couldn't hear what he was trying to whisper to her. Everything was turning to static in her ears.

Both Buck's arms moved to bind around (Y/n)'s waist when her knees gave out and she buckled. Her fingers slipped off the edge of the counter and her arms fell limp at her sides.

"Oh shit!" Stooping over, Buck braced himself a little better and slowly moved down until he was kneeling on the floor with (Y/n) hoisted up against his chest. Her head fell forward onto her chest as her legs curled up beneath her but she was still shaking. Buck kept one arm secured around her lower waist and moved his other arm round so he could carefully rest his palm against her temple and tilt her head up so she could lean her head back on his shoulder.

With a mouthful of garlic bread, Eddie pushed his chair back and jogged over to the pair while Hen busied herself grabbing a medical bag from near the stairs.

"Alright, here we go." Eddie knelt down in front of Buck and reached out for (Y/n)'s crumpled legs, carefully pulling them so they were straightened out and she was laid a bit more comfortable up against Buck. He pressed his fingers against (Y/n)'s wrist as Hen came over to them. "Pulse is a bit fast, not too bad. (Y/n), you with us?"

A muffled groan escaped (Y/n)'s lips as she tried hard to open her eyes but the lights suddenly felt like spotlights shining down on her and they were burning her eyes. She could feel Hen carefully taking her arm and sliding a blood pressure cuff up over her elbow and the tightening sensation sent a shiver down her spine and cleared her mind just a little.

"Open your eyes, babe," Buck coaxed while he smoothed his hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm. And something tingled to life in his chest and bubbled through his blood when he felt her hand shakily reach back and squeeze his thigh.

"Do you feel dizzy or sick?" Hen shone a light across (Y/n)'s pupils when she finally managed to open her eyes and something flickered on her face like a brief smile when she managed to follow Hen's finger from left to right.

"Dizzy… I- I'm good, probably just hungry." (Y/n) shuffled herself a little higher against Buck's chest so she was sitting up properly and she could feel the blood rushing back down to her feet and the storm in her head was starting to calm down, finally.

"You blacked out and you think you're good?" Buck rolled his lips together when Eddie gave him a look. He wasn't being rude but he knew (Y/n) better than any of them, he knew she was more likely to brush this under the rug than consider there might be something more serious than just a little dizzy spell. He for one didn't want to act like this was something small when he had said for the last week that she was coming down with a bug from how uneasy she felt and the constant headaches.

"Alright, if she thinks she's gonna be okay then let's all try and eat lunch, but you're benched today (Y/n). Any callouts, you hang back here to be safe I'm not taking any risks."

(Y/n) pressed her lips into a thin line to supress the groan burning at the back of her throat. She didn't want to hang back and wait around for them to come back off a call when she could be needed, she was here to do her job not sit back and worry. But she could see Bobby's reasoning, she would be a liability today if she went on a call and felt rough or this happened again. It was a safety measure.

She let Eddie take her hands and Buck loop his arms beneath hers so they could hoist her up between them. Her legs felt wobbly like setting jelly but she could shuffle them towards the table without worrying that she was about to collapse again.

It was just a blackout, she probably needed something to eat.

Loosening the suspenders on his shoulders, Eddie pulled them off his arms and shimmied out of his overalls and boots. He picked them up and shuffled tiredly through into the locker room, smiling softly when he glanced over and saw (Y/n) sat on a far bench near the glass wall.

"How you feeling?" He dumped his things into his locker but when he didn't hear a response, the smile slowly slipped from his face and he glanced back over at her.

He knew Buck had been worried for the rest of the shift when they went out and left (Y/n) behind at the station. She had kept herself busy, they all saw the tidy kitchen and the mopped floors implying she had been desperate to occupy herself when she got left behind for the afternoon. Buck had been the first one to run up to her when they got back and make sure she had been fine while they had been out. He worried; a lot.

"(Y/n)?"

Eddie walked over and gently perched himself beside her on the bench before he clasped his hands together in front of him and stooped over a little. His head tilted to the left to try and see her since she was sat at an angle but he sucked in a sharp breath when she turned to face him.

Her hands were full of used, bloodied tissues and there were streaks of blood smeared all across her mouth and chin and a lot of dried blood caked around her nose.

"What happened?" He was careful when he gingerly reached his hands out to tilt her head back. It looked like the blood had mostly stopped now but there was a hell of a lot on her face and the pile of tissues she had crumpled up in her fists.

"I had a headache, then the heavens poured out my nose for over five minutes. Has it stopped?" (Y/n) tightened the tissues in her hands until she could feel them starting to shred and pull apart between her fingers.

She had barely walked away from Bobby after reassuring him she felt much better, and her nose started to pour like a tap. Her head started to go fuzzy and heavy like it did earlier and no amount of tissue or pinching the bridge of her nose seemed to stop it. And Buck had gone for a shower so he didn't have to bother when they got home, the last thing (Y/n) wanted to do was run to him and ask for help. She would only panic him more than he had been earlier and she didn't want that.

"Yeah, I think it's stopped, are you sure you feel alright? You know this doesn't look so good." Eddie couldn't help but feel nervous, constant headaches, blacking out and a nosebleed on a large scale weren't signs of something minor.

"I feel better than this morning… Eddie, please don't tell Buck. You know he worries."

(Y/n) swiped the last crumpled tissue against her face before throwing them all in the bin. She would have to dart into the bathroom and wash her face clean of the blood if she didn't want Buck or any of the others realising what had happened or getting the wrong impression.

"I won't." A nosebleed could just be that and not mean anything else, it could be a one off and Eddie certainly wouldn't want to worry Buck unnecessarily.

He wouldn't say anything; yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft smile flooded (Y/n)'s face when the man whose name was John, grabbed her hand and held it tightly to her heart. He needed reassurance and (Y/n) would help him as much as she could and calm him down, it was all part of the job.

"Am I dying?"

"Of course you're not, we won't let that happen. We're going to free your leg and get you to the hospital, you'll be right as rain soon." It always felt easier to reassure someone with minor wounds like this.

It was when the victim had organs spilling out or a crushed chest or third degree burns that wouldn't heal that made (Y/n) panic about giving reassurance to them. When she knew there was no way she could guarantee they would survive, telling them everything would be okay felt like a lie and that wasn't always the best course.

But this man only had a leg crushed by some rubble and a few broken bones, nothing fatal that they needed to worry about. He was going to be fine and (Y/n) knew it.

"Alright, I'm going to let go of your hand so we can get ready to move you, okay?" (Y/n) gave his hand a gentle squeeze before she let go and moved so she was crouching behind him with her hands hooked under his armpits.

Eddie was going to lift the metal beam from the man's leg and Buck was in position to free his legs and help slide him onto the board so they could carry him out. He was the last person trapped in here, everyone else was out and taken care of and after this, the team could head back to the station and wait for the next call of the day.

(Y/n) wasn't sure if it was the dust and smoke filtering through the air that was making her head spin or if it was the headache she'd had since this morning but whatever it was made her feel off. Every part of her felt sluggish and slow and her head felt like it had cotton wool stuffed in it.

"Go!"

On command, (Y/n) pulled him back and lifted him up and she and Buck quickly laid him down on the read board and shuffled him up until his head was safely in the foam brace to keep his neck still and straight.

"Alright let's get out of here."

(Y/n)'s arms had never felt so limp and heavy than they did when she lifted her end of the board and followed Buck back through the small break in the wall they had created to get in. Her hands were tensing and twitching in the grooves of the board and it felt like her centre of gravity was shifting more to the left like the world was tilting at an angle. It made (Y/n) want to lean to the left to balance herself back out but when she tilted her head, she felt like she was about to topple over.

She had carried people out like this thousands of times, she'd hooked people over her shoulders and ran from burning cars before and gone quicker than this but today she couldn't seem to catch up. Buck was going too fast and her feet were heavy and weighted in her boots but she did her best to kick the rubble out the way and keep up. She could feel Eddie close behind and her eyes focused on looking up at Buck.

He was wearing his overalls and his coat and helmet so she couldn't see the way his biceps would twitch and strain or the way he would hunch up his shoulders to tense his muscles and go faster, but she could imagine the way his body would move beneath the jacket.

As soon as they were outside, all of them were coughing from the wave of fresh air that hut them like a truck.

Something burned in the back of (Y/n)'s head like she'd been struck with a knife and as soon as they were clear, they set the board down as close to the ambulance as they could manage. Two paramedics filed over and Buck busied himself reeling off the injuries John had sustained.

Forcing herself to smile, (Y/n) leaned down and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"T-they'll fix your leg and have you up and walking in no time, you will be okay." She couldn't wait to hear his response or wait for a thank you or even a smile, she had to move.

Her feet stumbled beneath her and she could feel herself beginning to shake down to her boots. She didn't feel good. She wasn't sure where she was heading, she just had to get away from the victim so she didn't worry him and be away from prying eyes.

When she couldn't walk any further, (Y/n) threw off her helmet and unzipped her jacket and launched it down on the floor. She was sweating, she was cold, she was burning up and shaking and feeling sick all at once.

"(Y/n), hey, what's up what's going on?"

Running her fingers over her face, (Y/n) turned her back to Eddie and shook her head. She didn't know what was going on or what the problem was but there was just something that didn't feel right. Her head was pounding like it was going to explode and since she'd blacked out, it had been progressively getting worse. All of her symptoms had been getting worse whether she wanted to admit it or not.

There was caution in Eddie's movements when he gingerly placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her round to face him but when he did, he could see that her eyes weren't able to focus on him.

"I think you should sit down,"

"I… wh- I want-"

Eddie couldn't fathom what she was trying to say or what words were passing through her lips, none of it made a sentence or any sort of sense but it didn't matter.

(Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she tumbled down like the collapsed building behind them and Eddie couldn't catch her in time to break her fall, but that didn't matter either. He barely managed to go down on his knees when (Y/n)'s limbs tensed and tightened up like she was a puppet whose strings were being pulled.

Both her hands bent at odd angles and her arms pinned against her chest that pushed off the floor while her head started to tremble and jerk back and forth.

She was having a seizure.

"Cap! Captain, go get Buck! Now." Eddie threw his helmet to the floor and leaned over (Y/n) whose body was taut and tense and looked like she was shivering all over. He was the least bit relieved to see that she wasn't fully thrashing around on the floor and her arms and legs weren't being thrown about at all angles, it was more her head that was jerking than the rest of her body.

He carefully turned (Y/n) over so she was laid on her left side and tried to keep his hand pressed against the back of her neck to keep her head forward. He had no way of knowing if she was going to be sick or if she might bite down on her tongue and make it bleed. Either way, he couldn't risk her choking.

"Hey, what-" Whatever Buck was about to say fizzled into the air when he looked over at his girlfriend, laid on the floor spasming and shaking.

He'd never seen her have a seizure before.

"What happened?!" Fury boiled over in Buck's voice as he roughly grappled with his helmet and chucked it down to the floor before he went down on his knees in front of (Y/n). "Babe? (Y/n), baby it's me, you're okay, it's alright." He tried to keep one hand on her arm to let her know he was there while he pushed his other hand beneath her neck and the floor to feel her pulse and check her airways were still open. They couldn't be trying to intubate her while she was seizing like this.

"Hen, get over here! Don't let that second ambulance go, get it here now!" Bobby waved Hen over and pointed over at a paramedic who was about to take the other empty ambulance away from the scene now that all the people were accounted for and safely being transported.

"Has she had an accident, hit her head? Had a reaction to something?" Hen kneeled down next to Buck and took Eddie's place keeping (Y/n)'s head tilted forward while she tried to clip a monitor onto (Y/n)'s finger and listen to her heartbeat.

"No, nothing. She, she doesn't have seizures, this isn't normal." Something violent flashed across Buck's pupils as his jaw locked shut.

This wasn't normal for her, (Y/n) didn't get seizures or get seriously ill other than the odd bout of flu or a cold. She had never collapsed before, never had a seizure and she hadn't hurt herself or had any reaction to anything that would bring this on. Nothing had happened to her today or even this week for this to happen, Buck had kept a close eye on her to make sure she was alright. Clearly she wasn't.

"Okay, okay I think it's starting to wear off. (Y/n), it's Hen can you hear me?"

(Y/n)'s arms stayed pinned against her chest like she was protecting herself from something and her body started to calm down with the shakes but her upper half was still tilting and pushing back and forth like she was being pushed and pulled.

Hen gently pulled up her eyelid to flash a light across her pupil but her eyes were only half visible, still looking up towards the top of her head. Now that she had stopped shaking, Hen tried to listen to her heartbeat and put a blood pressure cuff on her arm.

"Buck…"

"I'm here baby, it's me." Reaching forward, Buck carefully slipped his hand into (Y/n)'s half-curled fist that felt tense and stiff and unusual to him but he knew he could feel her fingers trying to press against the back of his hand. It was enough to make his erratic heartbeat calm down and he brought her hand close enough so he could kiss the back of her hand before he pressed it against his chest.

"Her pulse is steady and her blood pressure isn't too low, she's stable enough. Get her on the stretcher, she needs an MRI."

"On three, Buck. One, two, three." Eddie slipped his hands beneath (Y/n)'s shoulders and Buck lifted her lower half and legs and they carefully laid her down on her back on the stretcher the paramedics wheeled over. She felt so tense and stiff like she was in rigamortis, Buck had never felt her so taut like that before and he hated it.

"I'll ride along with you," Hen patted Buck's shoulder nd glanced over at Bobby for confirmation. One nod of his head was all it took for Buck to shed his jacket which he handed to Eddie before he and Hen climbed in the ambulance.

"We'll meet you at the hospital,"

He wouldn't be able to focus on shift without being by her side and making sure she was alright and everybody knew and understood that.

"Buck, it hurts," (Y/n)'s words were slurred and she could barely keep her eyes open for long but he managed to make out what she said and it broke his heart.

He shuffled closer to the stretcher and brought her hand to rest against his cheek to let her know he was still here with her. He leaned his head to the side a little so he could kiss her wrist and he rubbed his other hand up and down her arm and shoulder to try and stimulate her and keep her awake with him.

"What hurts, baby?"

"My head." (Y/n) tried to lift her free hand to rub her temple but her limbs were so stiff she could barely curl her fingers to her palm.

"It's okay, the doctors will make you better, don't you worry baby. Just keep talking to me, eh? The team will come up and meet us at the hospital, they're all worried 'bout you."

"Stay with me," (Y/n) tried to smile and managed a half smile in Buck's direction and she tried to keep her eyes on him and his baby blue orbs that were staring down at her intently. She could feel his fingertips grazing up and down her skin and his wet lips pressing on her wrist like he was kissing her pulse and helping her heartbeat calm down.

"I ain't going anywhere, baby." Buck smiled down at her and he could feel himself slowly starting to calm down. Maybe this was just a one time thing, maybe she would just need her head checking out and some tablets and be perfectly fine. That was what he was hoping for. But when he looked down at her again, his smile started to fade. "What's wrong with her eyes?"

He glanced between Hen and (Y/n) until she carefully leaned over and pulled (Y/n)'s eyelid higher to get a better look. Both her eyes were trembling from left to right so rapidly it was making Buck's head hurt just from looking at them.

"Baby, talk to me… what's wrong?"

"She's having another seizure." Hen held her wrist and checked her vitals before she sat back down but kept close watch.

"But she…" Buck didn't know what he wanted to say. He'd never seen someone have a seizure like this. Sure, (Y/n) was tense again like her muscles were about to snap, but she wasn't shaking or spasming and her head wasn't moving. Nothing was moving apart from her eyes, he'd never seen anything like it but then again, the fire department didn't deal with seizures all too often.

This wasn't right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck's knee juttered up and down like he was a drummer hitting the bass beat over and over again and it caused his elbows to shake and his neck to strain. He had his shoulders hunched over, his elbows perched on his thighs and his entwined hands propping up his chin.

Something burned to life in his chest when the rest of the team came down to the waiting room to sit with him and wait for any news. He didn't have much of a family out here apart from Maddie who was currently still on shift, but the station had become his make shift family.

He almost clocked himself in the jaw when Eddie gently elbowed him and pointed over to the doctor who was fastly approaching them.

Panic was all Buck could feel and in a moment of desperation, he turned his head until his eyes locked on Bobby who got the silent plea. He advanced over to Buck, laid a hand on his shoulder and followed him to meet the doctor a few feet away from the rest of the team. If it was bad news Buck didn't want everyone else listening in, he wanted to hear it for himself first but he wanted Bobby there too. He was like his dad now and he needed that support.

"Is she okay?" Buck tucked his hands into his pockets to stop himself from scratching his arms to pieces out of nervous habit.

"The MRI showed she had a small bleed on the brain which we've managed to fix, the pressure caused the seizures."

Buck didn't know what to make of that, he wasn't one of the paramedics, sure he had the basic training. He could do CPR, he knew the basic recovery positions and he could help someone in respiratory distress, but this was beyond him.

"What caused the bleeding?" Bobby tightened his hand on Buck's shoulder, it mattered more to know why this happened than how they fixed it.

"We ran a few blood tests which showed her red blood cells were shredded, this is caused by a condition, TTP. It's brought on by pregnancy."

Buck's shoulders slumped and his mouth hung agape as he turned to look at Bobby as if for confirmation and reassurance that he was hearing this correctly. (Y/n) was pregnant. She never said anything to him or to anyone else, surely she couldn't have known about this either. He was going to be a dad. He was gonna have a baby.

"Is she- I- is she okay, though?"

"With medication and close monitoring she will be fine, you can go see her now. Congratulations."

In an instant, Buck had his arms around Bobby, reeling him in for a crushing hug and a breathless laugh before he reeled back and shot down the corridor. He had to go and see her right now, (Y/n) had to be the first person Buck talked to about this, she had to be the one to see his ecstatic face and feel how fast his heart was beating out of his chest at this news. He had to reassure himself (Y/n) was indeed alright after today, he couldn't get excited or relieved until he saw with his own eyes that she was alright.

"Baby," Buck could barely speak from how breathless he felt as he stumbled into (Y/n)'s room and his eyes set on her.

She was sat up in bed, her lips rolled together to supress a smile and tears drenching her exhausted features. He ignored the horrid look of the IV cannula in her hand and the white patch taped to the side of her head where he guessed they had managed to drain the bleed on her brain. All he could focus on was how she was trying to smile at him and just looking at her had his eyes watering.

(Y/n) couldn't help but giggle when Buck hazardly collapsed on the side of the bed and wound his arms tightly around her middle. She smiled when he nuzzled his face in the crook of her shoulder and kissed her neck while she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head.

"I- I was so worried,"

"I know… are you happy?" Deep down, (Y/n) already knew the answer to her question but she had to ask anyway, just to be sure. She could feel him laugh into her neck, unable to believe she even had to ask him that and his arms tightened around her until he was pulling her up and crushing her into his chest trying to stuff her into his heart.

"Happy, are you kidding? I'm gonna be a dad!"

[vivisviolets]

what do you need to hear right now ೀ⤷ except i have a headache

↪its been 3 fuking days i swear to goddddd 444

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˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖-pick an image that you feel drawn to- if nothing stands out quickly then close your eyes- breathe- and ask spirit/the universe/god or your intuition/higher self to show you what a pile's content would best suit you, don't be shy!! read through more than one if that's what you are called to do!! i love youuuuu-˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

⋆｡˚ *pile 1 ⚬

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⚬. Five of Swords (reversed), Nine of Swords (reversed), Six of Swords, Three of Wands, Judgement, Ace of Pentacles ⚬.

⚬. ☄️Number 5, 555, initials/letters H-M-A, sun ruled/dominant, Aries/Sag/Leo/Aquarius Placements, dark coloring or light coloring, face/body freckles, pale or sunkissed, thick hair, loud/blunt tone of talking, action-oriented ☄️⚬.

⚬. As I shuffled I picked up fire energy, I'm feeling you guys might come across a little intense personality-wise, like blunt or hardheaded in your opinions- you guys make other people feel like the shy or softer friend in comparison to you- I just got interrupted- I think you might have dealt with people in the past who stepped into your energy in an attempt to influence you or give you the impression they care but actually have the intentions to "change" you- I'm seeing someone smiling at you gently with this mask of innocence so you lower your guard down and give them control over you... This might have happened recently- and that's just it. They want to control by feeling that they are molding you into something they find more correct or tolerable. I don't mean to make you paranoid or even more un-trusting of others than you already are, but more to listen to and address inwardly why someone triggers you like that. I'm also hearing that in the past you might have felt you scared off some past friends or connections because they made some pretty lame excuses to avoid you- I'm just getting that you have a very masculine energy, very strong and coming straight from the chest. You guys have solid walls of inner self-concept and that can make people feel very small or meek compared to you, or trigger them to try and control or fix you, thinking you need some healing- when really it's them being triggered because of the self-healing they need to do on themselves... you guys might have mother issues (just finished watching Black Swan it's very much that suffocating toxicity coming from underdeveloped feminine energy) or have butted heads with female family members in your life (if not mothers especially aunts, maybe stepmother? Or grandmothers- female adults in your life)- and you guys are definitely not perfect in the way you handle certain things, regarding releasing control over certain situations peacefully. you guys can be impossibly stubborn, but that's because you stick to it with your whole chest, you just know- and so you bulldoze right ahead- I'm hearing a quote from Fiona Apple's '97 VMA speech, you "go with yourself". Other people's opinions be damned if you see something as your truth you follow it. From that, I'm hearing very Aquarius energy with how much you've mentally formed your own path (air energy with all the Sword cards), but again lots of fire energy I'm feeling. So you could have Aries placements with how youthfully blunt and truthful you naturally are- Sagittarius with how much natural luck and abundance you feel with opportunities being yours- but I'm getting very much lion energy, so Leo- "Lion-heart" "King of the Pride"- is really what your inner energy embodies! I heard some of you are more introverted or might not relate to this description fully because you may not think your external actions reflect that- but I NEED you to know what this is your inner emotional strength and land that you can, and should- tap into!! ☄️☄️☄️ because it's freaking natural babyyy ⚬.

⚬. You really need to chill with how un-trusting you are with other people's opinions. And I know that is so hard to hear because of the very valid reasons (◉ bitches) you've been dealt in life to have those trust issues- but I don't mean collapsing all your walls and becoming whatever anyone is saying, no. This is about you truly standing in all that inner power you have by allowing it to influence how to interact with others- there's knowledge to be gained everywhere, especially when you come from a place of such a strong self-concept. I'm really seeing you guys need to be allowing and being open to support- and I keep getting interrupted so I think you're really on guard with someone or the people you have around you. Again, look inwardly at that trigger and address it so you can take away what is valid in that trigger and also what is your own emotional walls- once you address it, you detach.~ and it's beautiful.~ but anyway, again-again I am also picking up that your suspensions are correct with whoever you feel is fake. So focus and be around people who you actually want to be around- I'm hearing a lot of you hang by yourself out of not finding anyone who interests you... Please do something different than what you normally do- you can find people who don't wish to change you or shrink next to you. You can and will find people who you can exchange knowledge and information with- with SUCH mutual respect like wow- you'll feel so fulfilled in a way you haven't even allowed yourself to think or consider-...might even be co-workers or just people you might have looked over (not trying to paint you as feeling above others or anything like that- you just have big high achiever energy). -Find and share with people who trigger you to become stronger, not weaker,- etc I'm really hearing that you guys being so in tune with your fire energy is really getting you to the places you want to be, it's really aligning yourself to those goals and your motives are really giving your actions a step up- but also you need to give energy to those ideas by sharing them- with the right, positive people (even neutral ppl would be rlly good) Because the support that you'll receive will not only be an energy boost to your goals, but also it will do some powerful work for you inwardly and align you to be more open to so many blessings and even more opportunities.-- I know you guys don't care hearing it because you don't need to, nor want to ask for it- but you are deserving as everyone is of hearing it- I love you ♡ and everything is turning out in your favor just by you continuing to follow your heart ❤️‍🔥. continue to open it up and remember to look and enjoy the next sunset you see!! ⚬.

⚬. "I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest" - "I paid all my respect to those who taught me how to make it And now I reap the benefits with no confrontation" ⚬.

∘˙○˚‧.ೃ࿔ pile 2 ⚬

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⚬. The Hanged Man, Queen Of Swords, Strength, Three of Swords, Eight Of Wands, Six Of Pentancles ⚬.

⚬. 🐚 Number 3, 333, 3333, 1313, 303, 313, bubbles, Powerpuff Girls, girl/boy/kid next door, approachable/young/soft appearance, temu, Pisces/Cancer/Scorpio/Taurus/Leo placements, Neptune ruled/dominant 🐚 ⚬.

⚬. Bubbles!!!! I'm hearing bubbles- so you know, bubble baths/bubblegum/soap bubbles- oh, and of course you might have gone through a Powerpuff Girls phase and you chose Bubbles as the one most like you!! Obviously- right off the bat, you guys are adorable- you're seen as very adorable at least, you might have a very young face or you just give off very playful energy... So I'm mostly getting what other people see you as, so you definitely have a set image in people's minds-... I'm hearing though you might not like to hear that? A lot of this perception of you is largely online and in online groups, so you have curated a certain personality + an aesthetic for online and in said online groups (hearing for a lot of you it's Discord, but I'm also hearing Instagram group chats + Instagram engagement)... Maybe you've been regretting portraying that online persona? in those online spaces specifically- I will say this pac is all ages but I'm hearing that a lot of you might feel like you made some "bad choices" in how you portrayed yourself or who you interacted with that made you come across naive, and that can be a lot of things like- having weak emotional boundaries and being too emotionally open to people (like being the one who people trauma dumped to), getting wrapped up in some shady trading or in group business, or ignoring red flags of certain people in the effort to be the kind and sweet one of the group (you might of had a problem with a lot of creeps in your energy.. and dms ugh ew ◉ ◉ ◉)- I don't care what your age is, don't be hard on yourself!!! For this reading, you are literally my baby and I will not be harsh to you, idgaf if you came for harsh advice. I will only be saying things to guide you forward. because literally, I don't see you doing anything genuinely wrong. I think this situation you got in made you feel like you were some stupid baby duckling- it made you feel like your inner strength was weak and worthless- and you're putting a lot of self-blame on yourself- and that's just what that is, self-blame for how other people chose to engage with you.- I'll just tell you, you are so precious- no matter the reason you engaged in what you engaged in, you came in with pure intentions and creative eyes!! you felt like testing your waters regarding your own self-expression and wanted to give to others along with that ♡ and that's wonderful and ok to have wanted!! You guys are highly creative btw, and very interested in how you can express yourself- the first cards I drew were associated with water, so you may have prominent water placements of Pisces/Cancer/Scorpio- any of those are very you. You might have been deemed as the "cutesy artist" by others,- you might do something creative like drawing (I'm seeing some supaa cute digital art), cosplay or make up, maybe even music?- Very dreamy~ and also very giving of yourself emotionally- that's not a harmful thing my darling☆!! it's not "weak-minded" or deserving of being taken advantage of- nonono STOP THATTTT-... you really had something happen that threw you into a tailspin. You might be the overthinking type- you're taking everything to be a defining moment of your emotional intellect, or your very worth as a person... noo baby stop that- I literally need you to brew a cup of tea or a little treat, -I'm getting straight up teary-eyed with a lump in my throat rn- take a few deep breaths, drink a little cup of water, watch some youtube or anime- and just let yourself shed some tears if you want to.. freaking obviously feel however you want to feel because that's healthy to do but please stop placing all the blame on yourself like that's the full picture of what happened. ⚬.

⚬. ok so- you're gonna freaking reinvent yourself. Because I know you want to, but- 👏 you 👏 will 👏 not 👏 do 👏 it 👏 out 👏 of 👏 self👏 shame ��.......👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 - nah booboo, because there was nothing wrong with you to begin with, inwardly you are SO pure-hearted to yourself and those around you- AND THERE IS NOTHING that should be deemed wrong about that, holy shit. let me chill- this reading is peace and love🕊 only ofc... That's exactly it btw- you will be reinventing yourself out of peace and love- for yourself. out of peace and love for the version of yourself who felt vulnerable- taking what has made you feel vulnerable, and turning it into strength. And I'll just say, the actions that you'll be taking will be very much inward- and so you may see your "glow up"/transformation as too slow, but honey- that is exactly how what's needed in becoming SO secure in yourself. You might even go dark in a lot of your online spaces- if you haven't already which btw, process and remove any shame connected to having left certain spaces. how things fell apart was how it was meant to happen and has now gotten you to this point- which is amazing and awesome because you're gonna transform to be completely badass ★!!!! And I know you're thinking and worrying about how you won't be around to give to others to which i say- kiss your sensitive heart for being so precious~♡ because this is about you now. and everyone is going to feel that, no more placing your self worth on how happy you make others- its time for you to actually take enjoyment in yourself!!! and you are going to be looking so good- your inward growth is going to reflect your outward appearance, if you want to start switching up your style now's the time to go for it!!!!- but again, big focus on your inner self-love and growing your self-worth- and if you do choose to share your journey, make it in a smaller circle of people you can trust!! definitely send those new style pics to the inner circle if you feel free and fulfilled inwardly- you'll totally be praised like "omg (x) is really evolving they're looking sooo good..."- but anyway, just trust me ok ♡ because you're going to look back on all that you're feeling- all the hurt, confusion, negativity- and you're going to be stunned like- omg, if i hadn't felt and experienced and processed all of that, i wouldn't be feeling this good rn. So start that process!!!!! Get yourself a cute journal if you don't already have one with cute pens (record yourself to look back at later), start watching youtube videos on self-concept and emotional processing, saturate your mind with all that self-improvement- self-discovery- and building yourself up to be all the joy and love you bring to others (and hotter than evaaa😎), all for yourself ♡. I freaking love you~ now go get your sweet treat!!!!! (or two, that's totally ok~ just for today~) ⚬.

⚬. "And nothing hurts like you do- like the way you say I love you" - "See it on your face you won't ever change in your ways" - "When your torn apart you'll destroy me again"

⚬. *tw: themed song is dark for this pile like wuttt, but it just kept replaying in my mind during the reading so maybe it'd be your thing? idk lollll ⚬.

｡⭒⭒˚ʚɞ˚｡˚pile 3 ⚬

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⚬. King of Pentacles, The Tower (reversed), Two of Pentacles, Queen Of Wands (reversed), Knight Of Swords, Seven Of Swords ⚬.

⚬.🕷 Student life, number 1-12-6, 1111, 1212, 666, lawyer or law practice type degree, thin or medium length hair, natural eye bags/under eye veins, INTP/INFJ, monochromatic clothes, cotton loungewear, Sagittarius/Virgo/Taurus/Capricorn/Libra placements, mars ruled/dominant 🕷⚬.

⚬. Okkk pile 3s, I must talk about your appearance and aura because... Wow!! I am enchanted- I see you are very statue-esque, so you may be on the tall side, especially for my women/afabs it's a very noticeable trait about you, of course you can be a normal height but there is just something about the way you are built that is very statue-like. And that appearance really shows who you are inside and your inner energy because you are soooo calming, mature, and also very spiritual in your self-concept- like if you were my friend and I had you in my inner circle I would trust you with so much, like you're held high in your own inner circle/peers. Maybe you don't feel that way because while you guys are very much givers of your time and nurturing nature- you know to put yourself first on your list of priorities, and that, not only is what makes you so good at your time management (like how do you it??? Please teach meee), it also gives you this air of independence- very natural independence too like, you're again a nurturing and giving being but you treat yourself with that same energy. I'm seeing a large tree in the middle of a expansive and dense forest, and all that magnificent health flowing through that forest is thanks to that tree right in the middle self-regulating and thus creating all that health that all of the life around it can benefit from… So yea self-care is a big thing for youuuu~ I'm seeing the routines you have are very simple so they just blend in so effortlessly into your daily life, and it is literally what is making you into that magnificent tree full of self-regulating energy. Again really simple, minimalist style of self-care- I see morning walks/jogging and journaling to clear and refresh your mind space, you may like to read, and prefer audiobooks or mindfulness-centered podcasts over other forms of media to help you relax and refocus, I'm seeing you like to not be strict with your diet but instead add to it things like fruits-veggies- and more purely sourced foods- your skin care is very simple with few-if any- products and your consistent with it as you are with everything else in your life. Even if you feel like you're "failing", you aren't. and deep down you know that you aren't- you've grown so much and that's really tapped you into not just self-responsibility/regulation but also to give yourself the grace to breathe. That's so beautiful!!!!!! ugh. And like- all of this natural self-focus you have, it's so spiritual- it's not grounded in your ego. You're just so in touch with your highest self. And lovely, they/she/he is so proud of you. I have to say again, if you were my friend, you would definitely be the person I'd go to- to take care of my puppy for 2 weeks in complete peace, and someone I'd have a drink with on a Saturday night all made up and done up talking about the deepest of topics. ⚬.

⚬. Very interesting personality and image I was getting and building up compared to the cards I pulled- I'm getting you might not have always been this balanced in your personal life and emotions, in fact you might have been very much the opposite… Because you grew up in an environment very unlike the one you are currently building for yourself- you may have had a toxic and vicious mother or other feminine figures that really put the fear of God in you and also made you fear yourself with the thought of one-day exuding and feeling such damaged feminine energy…. You might have also had a lot of friend drama- for those older reading this, this happened in your youth (middle-high school) and to those still in mentioned youth, you're freshly out of it (-good for you ily), said dramatic struggles was a reflection really of all the chaos of your home environment and all of the pent up intensity of it… I'm just hearing so many arguments and you feeling like you're being set on fire over and over again... So I'm getting with how much of a shift you made, you feel this coldness in your heart space- partly due to how fiery and emotional your past way of existing was, and also because while this shift that you made for yourself is excellent considering where you came from, it also happened very suddenly- and while you have implemented many new healthy habits… I'm seeing your past wounds still remain open. You can't bring in the new without clearing out the old... while you've done the work of shifting from the old habits to new- that's only half of the battlefield within you that has been fought and conquered, and now you need to face the other half instead of journeying away from it. Because even with all the peace you've found and created for yourself, what you have not faced, felt, and processed for the final round still remains… Maybe you fear your peace and balance being threatened by opening up your hurt, and that's totally understandable and valid. But if you wish to build a peaceful future, you must make peace with the past version of yourself. They/she/he who's still wrapped up in the chaos around them, mimicking that chaos back out of fear, feeling completely alone-that version of yourself needs your attention and healing more then ever. And I know you like to journal or record your thoughts, so allow those darker feelings and wounds into the space- keep the learned peace you have found and treat yourself with that gentleness past you wished they had been given-address them and ask them what memories stick with them most vividly and ask how it made them feel-how it made you feel at the time. Ask yourself what traits you feared most about the people who hurt you and analyze them- the emotions behind them and their cause and effect- and look within how you may be playing out those same traits stemming from the trauma of experiencing them.. I know I'm getting really heavy now, but that's just it- as you are growing upwards and becoming lighter, what no longer serves you grows heavier- and it needs your addressing, so you can become all that you want to be and exist as. You've already shown yourself that you are capable of finding and attracting peace, so now it's time to give yourself the peace of healing. Be the bigger girl/guy/person to yourself, allow yourself to feel it and address it in this safe space you've created. OK BESTIEEE I'm wishing you so much love and joy in your inner discovery journey- I loooove youuu ⚬.

⚬. "There's a fine line I've been walking" -This is where you fuckers pushed me, don't be surprised if shit gets ugly" - "-there's a fine line between broken and breaking- spent my whole trying to change what they say about me- sick of walking that fine line" - "I feel safest in the silence" - "-my whole life I've had something to prove, to you" ⚬.

⚬. *Bonus song*: Too Far Gone by Kesha ⚬.

⚬. oh my- okkk you got to the bottom- hiiiiii- byeeeee 👋

love, vi~♡