#but I by the end of the day I will have sent out those emails and FUCK I need to

[y-eontan]

STOP WITH THE EMAILS

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Picture of a Cat.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After months of emailing back and forth, you finally meet the person you've been chatting with every day. Then you realize that Spencer is not just a girl's name.

Words: 2,7k.

TW: forensic!reader. with spencer of the early seasons very much in love in mind. the reader has a cat and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and maybe lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This is pretty chaotic and not particularly serious😭 It might be best not to try to make sense of it. They're just two idiots in love, really.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

To say that Spencer was dying of nervousness was not enough to describe his true feelings.

From the moment he woke up this morning without any mail from you in his inbox, he began to feel that his day was going wrong and that it was becoming an endless nightmare. He had lost count of all the times he had checked his mail at work, hoping to see even a one-line message from you to calm his anxiety.

As someone who had received your good morning every day without fail for the last four months that you had been talking to each other daily, he was completely taken aback and couldn't quite put his finger on why. Perhaps he had said something to offend you, or maybe you were just not feeling the spark anymore. But astonishingly, none of your numerous emails that he had taken the time to reread on the jet indicated any cause for concern.

Everything had been so positive with you recently, and he was grateful to have someone to talk to, even if it was through a computer, every time he finished a challenging case and his mind just wanted to focus on something else. He found great comfort in reading about your day and your thoughts every morning, as if it were his newspaper. Even the pictures you always sent him of your cat sleeping in cute poses, eating, or doing anything else made him smile and gave him the idea of adopting a pet, even when he had never thought about the possibility of it before. You always helped him realize some desires he hadn't previously considered.

But suddenly he didn't have any of it. Nothing at all.

Reid's gaze fell once upon the computer on his desk, and his face was illuminated by its light as he reopened his email page for what might have been the thousandth time that day. His fingers tapped over and over on his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves as the page loaded at a slow pace. He took the opportunity to look at the time on the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. It was ten o'clock at night, and yet, once again, there was no trace of you among his messages.

His heart stopped for a second when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had to close the page he had opened on his computer at full speed before he could even realize who it was.

“Hey, take it easy, kid.” Derek said gently, removing his hand from his shoulder and stepping back a step. His eyes fell on the computer screen, and he was intrigued. “What were you watching?” He asked, with a playful smile.

“N-nothing.” Spencer's voice trembled beyond his control, and he quickly rose from his chair, trying to shield the computer with his body.

You had been his best-kept secret for quite some time, and he was content with that. He enjoyed the idea of maintaining a certain level of privacy in that aspect of his life, as something just between you two. It was more special and romantic that way.

“Nothing? Is that what they call those things now?” Derek inquired, his tone teasing but not unkind. The boy blushed a little, unsure why. “I must admit I'm surprised.”

Reid had to think for a few seconds to figure out what his colleague was talking about, but even before he could understand, Morgan had started speaking again.

“Anyway, turn that off.” He said, pointing to the computer and settling his bag over his shoulder, ready to go. “Someone's waiting for you in the boardroom.”

Almost automatically, Spencer frowned and watched him, waiting for him to provide more information or at least laugh if he was making a joke. However, that didn't occur. Derek didn't laugh at him or anything of that nature.

“Go, Reid. It might be best not to keep the girl waiting.” He gave his friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile before heading off on the way to the elevator.

A girl? Waiting for him? How?

Spencer took a moment to collect his thoughts, attempting to grasp the meaning behind Derek's words and the circumstances surrounding the supposed visitor. With a measured pace, he stepped away from his desk and proceeded down the hallway, heading for the boardroom with a contemplative demeanor.

As he opened the door and cautiously stepped inside, he was met with the most glorious sight of his life, the one he had waited so long for, the one that now quickened his pulse and seemed to bring him back to life after feeling dead all day.

You.

Standing at the table, looking intently at the various maps and data scattered around the round table in the center of the room. So deep in thought that you were not even aware of his presence. As pretty as in the pictures of you that he had seen.

He couldn't help but let out a little "oh my" at the sight of you. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he could hear it from across the room, or maybe his ears were just ringing from the blood rushing to his head. Reid stood still, looking at you, amazed. He could see how the light touched your hair and how you bit your lip as you concentrated on organizing the papers and a folder in your hand. It was real. It had to be real.

“Hi.” His voice suddenly startled you, making you realize that you were no longer alone and that the door was now open.

You look up from the documents you are examining and see him by chance. It takes you a moment to realize that he works there, and only by the FBI badge in his pants pocket.

“Hi.” You responded after giving him a very obvious visual scan.

Your voice.

It was the first time he'd heard you speak, and it was just as he'd imagined it would be.

“I’m-” You extended your hand in a cordial manner to introduce yourself, but he interrupted.

“I know who you are.” He spoke quickly, smiling at you. “I...I...you are...” Reid cursed himself for stuttering the sentence as his tongue suddenly felt too heavy in his mouth.

“Okay…I'm waiting for someone.” You said it politely, but your tone showed your anxiety.

Oh, you didn't know it was him.

Spencer let out a laugh to relieve the growing tension, but it came out sounding like a cough. He wanted to hit himself. Why was he acting like a child? He was an agent, for God's sake. His job was to talk to complete strangers every day and do entire profiles without getting nervous. He found it hard to understand how that was changing so much now. He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak more clearly.

“Yes, I know.” He replied, sounding a bit nervous. His voice was a little shaky, as if he was straining to get the words out.

“Do you know if this person is coming?” You were standing there with your arms crossed, trying to see if anyone else was coming after him.

At that moment, a look of confusion came over his face. It had not even crossed your mind that it might be him. And although it was to be expected and totally understandable since you had never seen a picture of him, Spencer still felt a twinge of pain and insecurity inside. Perhaps you expected him to look different, or at least not look like a kid playing federal agent.

Maybe it would have been helpful if he had sent you a picture of himself when you sent yours. That way, you might have had a better idea of what to expect. But you were very understanding of his insecurities and lack of comfort with the photos at the time. So he thought everything would be fine anyway…he was so wrong.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before speaking up. “Actually, it's me.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to hide how nervous he was, with little success.

As soon as he said it, you looked surprised, your mouth slightly open, and then you laughed.

“That's pretty funny.” You said it with a slightly uncomfortable smile. When you realized he wasn't laughing, you added, “Good joke.”

Seeing your reaction, Spencer felt the urge to shrink back and disappear, as if that action could erase the last few seconds of your memory and also erase the feeling he suddenly had of having screwed up in an unfamiliar way. He felt his chest tighten as you asked him again if the person you were waiting for was coming. Was it so hard to believe that he was the person you were talking to? The one who earned your trust and affection?

“I spent several hours on a plane, so please let me know if your colleague is coming.” You spoke again, your tone conveying a hint of disappointment and fatigue. “If I'm a nuisance and Spencer doesn't want to see me, I'd appreciate knowing that.”

Hearing you say his first name gave him an unexpected shiver. It sounded so pleasant and intimate. He took another deep breath and forced herself to speak clearly.

“Wait, he does want to see you.” He paused for a moment, realizing he sounded a bit ridiculous. “I mean, I do. I'm Spencer.”

You're momentarily taken aback, unsure if the guy in front of you is joking. His nervous expression suggests otherwise, and you even entertain the possibility that he might be crazy.

Oh my goodness, you were all alone on a practically empty floor of the FBI offices with an insane agent.

“Just let me know if she's coming or not, please.” You said, taking a few steps back to be at a safe distance from him.

His mouth was so dry he could only manage a soft, hoarse whisper. “She? Did you think I was a girl?”

“You?” You furrowed your brow, feeling more confused and uneasy.

At last, he had a suggestion and reached into his pocket to retrieve his badge, holding it out to you in a gesture that seemed to convey innocence.

“I’m Spencer Reid.” He said, his voice betraying a hint of awkwardness as he was caught off guard by the peculiar turn of events.

You looked at the badge, confused, and slowly looked up, looking into his eyes closely for the first time. You studied his face intently, not really believing it.

“Are you Spencer? My Spencer?” You asked.

When you said “my,” he felt a flutter in his chest. His brain was trying to tell him not to get too invested in the moment, but the vulnerable part of him was moved by the way you said it, like he was all yours. There was a special air of affection there that he liked.

“Yes.” He replied, almost in a whisper. “I am.”

You had to take a moment to process the information, eyes glued to his as you tried to make sense of it. Little by little, you come to understand. This was the person you had been talking to every day for months—the person with whom you had shared your fears, stories, and dreams. Yet you hadn't even asked him for a picture or a call—anything that would have made you realize that he wasn't a woman. It seems almost unreal to you to have fallen into such a confusion.

“I sent pictures of my cat to a man?!” Was the first thing you thought, and it managed to come out of your mouth clearly, in an indignant tone. “I said you were my soulmate!”

Now you were the one who sounded insane.

He stood there for a few moments, looking at you and seeing the different emotions on your face. When he finally spoke, his voice had a hint of insecurity in it.

“Yes…but your cat is cute, and you take good pictures.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit nervous. “Did you know that the evocative power of images is widely studied? They can help us verbalize and even rescue forgotten memories and stories from our collective memory and-” He silences himself. “Sorry.”

When he fell silent, your brain couldn't do the same, and thousands of hard-to-filter words began to appear. You had a strange feeling in your chest, a mixture of familiarity with the way his ramblings sounded to you, just like the emails you loved so much, and confusion about the whole situation.

“This is so strange.” You said to yourself, pacing around the room a couple of times. “I was so stupid-”

He observed you with great interest, trying to discern the thoughts and feelings that were likely swirling in your mind. He could empathize with your confusion, as he was also uncertain about the circumstances. He couldn't blame you for feeling bewildered. You had embarked on your journey with the expectation of meeting a girl named Spencer, but instead, you encountered him. You had envisioned a lovely girl, and you found him—a simple individual, a nerd who had been told on numerous occasions that nerds lacked charm.

“No. You're not.” He said, attempting to manage his desire to bridge the gap and offer solace. “It was a misunderstanding. I should have provided you with more information.”

“How would you even start a conversation by saying you were a man?” You let out a laugh to yourself. “I would have stopped talking to you instantly.”

The sentence hit him right in the heart.

The two of you had the opportunity to communicate by mail when your boss asked you to send reports on several of the autopsies with similarities you had done to the BAU. It was then that a picture of your cat was sent in the middle of the files. Spencer was the one who received it and made an attempt at a joke after your long apology. And then another, and another, until you ended up talking for four months until now.

But if you had known from the beginning that he wasn't a woman, you wouldn't have bothered to get to know him at all.

“I...I don't know what to tell you..” He admitted, sounding a little more vulnerable. “But why did you think I was a woman?”

After a moment's thought, you said. “Your name made me think of a girl I knew in college. And you...you were so nice and sweet in your emails that I found it hard to believe that a man could be like that through a screen.”

When you shared how you perceived him through his emails, it seemed that a certain vulnerability came to light. The situation had turned the tables, and now he was the one standing there trying to process the information.

“I thought I finally had a friend. You know what my job is like...and yours is just as all-consuming.” You spoke again, having to sit for a moment in one of the chairs in the place, trying to calm down. “It would've been great to have someone who understood me as a friend.”

He felt a pang in his heart at your words and was instantly reminded of the times you'd confided in him about how isolated you felt in your lab, surrounded by dead people and computers.

“You can still do that.” He replied without thinking. “I’m still the same person as before, just different packaging.”

For you, it was much more than that. First of all, you trusted him in the beginning because you thought he was a girl; that's why he understood you so much and you had that special connection.

Hell, you'd even told him how bad your period was, and he'd understood so well. He'd given you tips and facts that you didn't know that were beyond your expectations of what the average man knew.

“I mean, I'm still someone you can talk to.” He continued, his hands moving nervously in his pockets. “Unless you...unless you don't feel that way anymore.”

When you finally spoke, your voice sounded almost whispery and gentle. He couldn’t help but lift his gaze from the floor to you, feeling how his body relaxed just a bit with the soft sound of your voice.

“No, no. I still want to talk to you…if you’re my Spencer.”

“I am, all yours.” He replied with a smile.

[gottagobuycheese]

well okay fine the first few months of this year MIGHT be shaping up to be uniquely hellish in a way I have never had the ability to experience before, but, once they’re done, regardless of how they actually go, I can look forward to utterly losing myself in breath of the wild 2 because as long as I am alive I can look forward to that. so it’s whatever it’s fine come at me emails I’m not afraid of you

[always-just-red]

hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  

“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.

“Ok,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.

Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him. 

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice. 

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail. 

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you? 

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please). 

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities. 

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

------------------------------

Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him. 

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response. 

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa. 

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa. 

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal 

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

--------------------------

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning. 

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden. 

"No way," complained Nia. 

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right now. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

-----------------------

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good. 

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

------------------------

A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch3

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."

The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.

"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"

You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?

Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.

"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"

"S-Sorry," You whimpered.

You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?

"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."

"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"

"It's from 7am to 2pm."

"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"

"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"

You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.

You just had to finish your shift.

And never look back.

----------

You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.

You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.

Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.

"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.

It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.

"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.

"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"

"Oh....Thank you,"

This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"

----------

Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.

Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.

"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"

Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.

"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"

Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.

"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.

"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.

"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."

Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?

Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.

How cute.

--------

Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.

Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.

"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.

"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"

"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."

Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.

"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."

"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"

"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."

Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.

"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.

"When is your vacation again?"

It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.

"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.

"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"

"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.

Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.

"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"

"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."

"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"

"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"

"Okay,"

--------

Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.

Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.

"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.

Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?

"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.

Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.

"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[kleftiko]

❦ ON MY DESK BY MIDNIGHT

“your professor was a strict asshole and you were failing the class. the only thing to do was go to him for extra help, unfortunately, he’s not a patient man.”

cw: teacher/student relationship, age gap, spanking, unprotected sex, sir kink, hate fucking (?)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

If looks could kill, your laptop would be six feet under.

You glared at the 29% on your screen as if it would change under intimidation. If it were any other class, the right thing would be to drop, but you needed this credit for your major, and you weren't gonna let your asshole professor stand in the way of your degree. So you closed the tab and opened your email.

Hi, Professor Geto,

I just received my mark on the last test, and I did not do as well as I hoped. Is there any extra material you recommend that I study in order to get a better grade next time? Or are there any tutoring opportunities I could use?

Thank you,

Y/N

Within a couple minutes, you received a response.

Sure.

Office hours tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

Besides the fact that he didn't answer your questions, the complete lack of tact from this man plus the shitty grade he gave you just pissed you off, and you ended up slamming your poor laptop closed with petty rage.

God, you hated him. He was always so haughty, acting as if everything around him was boring. You've caught his dark eyes glancing over at you with a condescending smirk more times than you could count. The thought of seeking tutoring opportunities from someone like him only made your blood boil even more.

You hated his stupidly long hair and how it always framed his face and looked so soft. You hated how, when it was warm, he wore short sleeves that showed off his tattoos that you couldn't take your eyes off of. You hated how his deep, velvety voice made you shift in your seat as you imagined him whispering things in your ear.

You hated him.

And you hated thinking about him right now, so with a huff, you turned over and went to sleep.

The next day, you went to his office. Looking through the open door at him, you were reminded of your thoughts last night. He had his hair tied up, those stubborn bangs falling out effortlessly like always, and his buttoned shirt was rolled up around his forearms, a glimpse of inked skin peeking through. Professor Geto was shuffling through some papers when he looked up from his desk and met your eyes.

"You coming in?" He drawled, and you blushed slightly from being caught.

You shuffled inside and closed the door behind you before your fingers started playing with the hem of your skirt. Professor Geto stood up and placed your test on the desk.

"So you don't like your mark." He said and you shook your head. "What do you plan to do about that?"

You frowned. "I emailed you yesterday about tutoring."

"It seems like you don't listen to what I say during lectures; why would you listen now?"

"I do listen to you! Maybe you just suck at teaching."

"Maybe you're a shit student." He retaliated, and all thoughts of his attractiveness went out the window.

You started seething. "I'm there for every lecture!"

"Then maybe if you didn't eye-fuck the boys in class and actually paid attention, you'd have passed."

Your eyebrows shot up to the sky as you seethed, "Excuse me?"

But he just blinked at you.

"Why does it matter if I'm eye-fucking someone?" You blurted.

"It gets a little distracting in class when my students keep talking about who you blew on the weekend instead of working." His sharp gaze cut you down, and you felt bare. But you didn't back out of the challenge.

"Oh, so you're just upset 'cause you're a 35-year-old virgin who can't get any." You surmised, and he smirked.

"Yea? And why are your panties soaked every class?" He took a step forward and towered over you, leaning down slightly and lowering his voice. "Next time you spread your legs under the desk, I like the lacey white ones you wear."

The heat in your face felt like a wildfire, but you refused to let him see your vulnerability. "Who says it's you that gets me wet?" You retorted, standing your ground.

But with one more step toward you, your knees nearly buckled. Almost chest-to-chest with the man, he trailed his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps along your skin, before dipping under your skirt. You shuddered at his cool hands, frozen in place as he curled two fingers along your pussy. It took all your strength not to moan at the simple touch.

Retracting his grip, he lifted up his hand in front of the two of you and admired the slick covering his fingers. As he spread them, your stringy juice connected each digit, proof of the lewd thoughts you have for your professor. But then he brings them to your mouth, and you don't know why, but you habitually open your lips and suck your fluid from his fingertips, not breaking eye contact with the man.

"You expect me to believe that wasn't meant for me?" He spoke in a dangerously low voice that caused you to whimper softly around his fingers.

Geto smiled—a sight you had never seen before but could tell was downright sadistic. His eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and power as he watched your submissive reaction. It was clear that he enjoyed having this control over you, relishing in the knowledge that he could make you succumb to his desires without question.

Then he turned away from you, taking back his fingers and casually wiping them on his pressed shirt as he looked down at the graded test. You were confused.

"So, you're not happy with the mark." He repeated. You could sense a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he found your disappointment entertaining. It was evident that he took pleasure in exerting his dominance over you. As he continued to speak, his condescending tone only further emphasized his sadistic nature. "Why don't we go through it?"

After a couple of dumbfounded blinks, wondering if what just transpired actually took place, you nodded and stepped towards the desk.

Your professor moved away for a second before appearing behind you and holding out a pencil. Not knowing what was going on, you took the utensil from his grasp, feeling the rough skin of his fingers—the same ones that were just in your mouth. You looked down at the test.

"First question..." You trailed off as his large hand came to rest on your ass. You froze for a second at the touch, but then he pulled away and landed a harsh smack against you.

You yelped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

The condescending gaze was back. "Did I tell you to stop?"

Your heart raced as confusion and arousal washed over you. The shock of his actions made it difficult to comprehend what was happening, but the slight stinging sensation on your ass had you bowing your head back to the paper.

"No," you said.

"No, what?"

"No, Sir." You corrected, and he hummed softly, his hand coming back to massage under your skirt.

You continued reading the question, trying not to falter at the reminder of his touch. But when you began your answer, his hand drew back and landed another harsh spank.

You gripped the desk in front of you.

"Wrong." Was all he said.

You whimpered but tried again.

Another slap.

"Sir..." You whined.

"Keep going."

You wiggled under his touch, your legs pushing together for a fraction of friction where you really needed it. Taking your time, you slowly worked through the answer, voice trembling at each graze of his rough fingers toying with the edge of your panties. When you finished, his hand dipped under the fabric and rubbed your clit, causing you to buckle under him.

His other arm came around to hold you up, pressing your body back into his sturdy chest as he chuckled darkly.

"Good girl," he mumbled. "Next."

"Sir, please..." You didn't know what you were asking for, but the lewd sound of his fingers against your soaked lips and the pleasure that came from them had your mind fuzzy.

"Are you already fucked dumb?" He asked rhetorically. "Haven't even taken out my dick yet."

At that, you whined and pushed yourself back against him, feeling his hard cock through his dress pants. He let out a hiss at the sensation, letting go of you in favour of undoing his buckle. As your arms fell on the desk in front of you to hold up your body, you couldn't help but anticipate the impending release of pleasure that awaited you. The air in the room grew thick with desire as he finally freed himself from his pants, and you could feel your own arousal burning with each passing second.

Geto didn't warn you when he entered. The sudden intrusion of his hard length inside you took your breath away, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed you, heightening the pleasure and leaving you craving more.

He wasn't gentle with you, treating you like a vessel for his own pleasure, but your wanton moans told him you liked it just as much as him.

"Do the little boys in the class fuck you like this?" He grunted, and you shook your head defiantly.

You bit your lip, trying to regain some confidence as you said, "T-they do it better."

"Oh?" He hummed and pulled out.

Your professor slipped out of you, grabbed your hips, and flipped you over. He pushed you back onto the desk, laid you down atop all the messy paperwork—including your forgotten test—and pushed your legs into your chest before you thrust inside again.

You let out a moan at the newfound spot he could reach, and Geto slapped a hand over your mouth.

"You want everyone to know this 35-year-old virgin is fucking you?" He mocked your inability to speak.

Every glide and thrust of his hips against yours sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire being. The rhythm between you two was intoxicating—a perfect dance of lust and appetite. With each movement, you found yourself surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure, losing yourself in the euphoria of the moment.

"God, how are you so fucking tight?" He groaned, his voice filled with a mix of desire and disbelief. The intensity of the sensations overwhelmed you, making it hard to form coherent words. You could only moan in response, your body responding to his every touch and movement. Then he brought his thumb roughly against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The pleasure intensified, causing your breath to hitch and your heart to race even faster. Every nerve ending in your body felt alive, consumed by the sting of ecstasy that seemed to have no end in sight.

"You like being used like this?" He asked. "Seems to be the only thing you're good at."

As the words left his lips, a mix of desire and humiliation washed over you. The intensity of the moment heightened, and your mind raced with conflicting emotions, torn between the raw pleasure coursing through your veins and the sting of his degrading words. It was a twisted dance of dominance and submission, leaving you yearning for more while questioning your own desires.

But as your orgasm washed over you, your mind was filled with nothing but pleasure, and your professor's cock was still buried deep inside you, pulsating with each wave of pleasure that rippled through your body. The illicit nature of the encounter only fueled your desire further as you surrendered completely to the intoxicating sensations for just a moment. As you lay there, spent and breathless, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you, leaving you craving more of the man in front of you.

He pulled out of you.

Your eyes widened with confusion and disappointment as you watched him retreat, leaving you feeling empty and unsatisfied. The sudden absence of his presence left a void within you, aching for his touch once again. So when he sat in his chair and motioned you back to him with a single curl of his finger, you willed your aching legs to carry you into his lap.

As you settled atop him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The intensity of his gaze and the heat radiating from his body reignited the desire that had momentarily been extinguished. You lined yourself up with his cock and slowly ground yourself onto it.

His hands stilled against you when you tried to bounce, however, and kept you trapped against him as he looked down at you.

"You do this to all your professors?" He asked, and you shook your head violently.

"Only you, sir." Your once-confident voice was now soft and laced with lust, and you let out a soft moan as you felt his dick twitch within you at the mention of his name. "You like when I call you 'Sir'?

His glare darkened, hips thrusting up harshly to elicit a yelp from you.

"You like when I make you cum on my cock?" He retaliated, and you bit your tongue. "Make me cum, and I'll give you a passing grade."

At the proposition, a mix of excitement and hesitation washed over you. The power dynamic between you and your professor was intoxicating, but the thought of trading sexual favours for academic success was never something you thought you'd do. However, the allure of achieving a passing grade in his class was hard to resist, and the thought of making this man you despise come undone was too good to pass up.

You leaned in, nipped his ear, and, in your most sultry voice, said, "Anything you want, sir.”

As those words left your lips, a rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins. The line between right and wrong blurred in that moment, and when you lifted your hips, only to fall straight down on his aching cock, you felt nothing but pride.

The intensity of the moment consumed you as you revelled in the power you took back. As the pleasure intensified, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, fueling your desire to get what you want. You bounced on top of him, riding the wave of control and dominance. Every movement was deliberate, and every moan he uttered was a testament to your newfound liberation. With each thrust, you could feel the balance of power shifting in your favour, solidifying your position as the one in charge. The exhilaration of getting what you desired fueled your confidence, leaving you hungry for more.

When his grip on your sides tightened and his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, you revelled in the satisfaction of knowing that you had brought him to this point. As Geto reached the peak of ecstasy, a sense of fulfillment washed over you, knowing you had finally made this man crumble.

You jumped off his lap, making his cum squirt into the air, only to fall and soil his pants. The pathetic stature of the man in front of you, coming down from his high, made you grin, eyes flashing to his glaring ones.

Wordlessly, you grabbed your crumpled test and pushed it in front of him, smirking down at the soiled man.

[bigglywiggly]

The day had finally come, you were finally going to meet the girl of your dreams, in person! Her name was Honey, she was a beauty streamer you had been watching for ages. Try-on hauls, pool streams, workout videos, all of it, you'd been here number 1 fan since day 1, donating thousands of dollars over the years to fund her lavish lifestyle, sending skimpy clothes and outfits for her to try on during her streams. To say you were smitten was an understatement. You would've done anything for even a minute with her, and luckily, that day had finally come.

One day, as you're tuning in to her stream, she posts a link on her page for "boyfriend applications." She wants to let her fans submit credentials and headshots for a chance to get more intimate with her, in a more personal way. You were astounded by this and instantly clicked the link and submitted an application. Seemed like pretty basic questions: height, weight, income, a headshot, basic things to understand the attractiveness and practicality of a person she deemed dateable. After filling it out to the best of your ability, you sent it in, a flutter and a hope in your chest. After, you tuned into the rest of the stream for the night.

The next week didn't go by quickly. Every day, you would sign in, check your inbox, emails, in hopes to see a response. As the end of the week neared, you lost all hope until you heard that melodious ding on your phone. At the top of your mailbox, you saw a new, unread email from who else, but Honey.

"Wow, you're super cute! I'd love to get to know you better, we should totally meet up!"

You almost dropped your phone, the air left your lungs and you were astounded, you punched and kicked yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Nope. This was real. This was happening.

After that, time flew by to this very day. You had hopped aboard a plane, flew across the country, took an Uber to her house and were now standing on her doorstep. The reality of it all was finally hitting you. What if this was a scam? You'd heard about these fake streamers that lure unsuspecting fans out to these abandoned homes and robbed them, leaving them with nothing. This surely wasn't one of those times, right? Maybe you should text someone to let them know where you were? No, there's no way your parents would understand, and your friends would just mock you for being some sort of pathetic weirdo. You'd gotten this far, you were gonna see it through.

You walked up to the door, with a pit in your stomach, and shaking, reached up to press the doorbell.

*RING*

Silence. You sat there for a few seconds, but nobody showed. Was this all fake? You went to ring again, out of hope, when you heard footsteps from behind the door. Fairly heavy footsteps. You could almost feel it, and...were the sidelights shaking? Must've been your imagination. 3 more thuds and you heard the lock click. Then another lock. 3 locks? That seemed odd, but who knows, she's pretty famous, can't have enough security right? The door swung open, and the first thing you saw made your jaw drop.

"Hey cutie~!"

You looked up and there she was. As stunning as the day you first tuned into her stream. Face first with the most incredible curves you'd ever seen, if you weren't so entranced with her body, you may have also picked up on the sheer height of her. You weren't short by any means, you stood at a comfortable 5'11, but this woman was something else. As she filled the door frame, you were face to face with a trench of cleavage that could strangle an elephant.

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Honey! I see you've met the rest of me already! *Giggle*

You blushed, quickly snapping your head up to meet her gaze. As you locked eyes with her, it was like the whole world vanished. Pale, blue swimming pools stared straight into your soul, piercing through you.

"Umm..sorry. Yeah, hi, ma'am, I'm-"

"Oh sweetie, I know who you are! And what's with the ma'am? It's Honey!"

She playfully pushed your shoulder, slightly for her, but you felt there was some gusto as it almost made you step back.

"Well come on in! No use standing outside gabbin!"

She stepped to the side and gestured you in, you carefully stepped into the house, walking light footed as if you needed to be delicate or careful, like what you were doing was lascivious.

"Take your shoes off, make yourself comfortable!"

She spoke behind you, closing the door and doing up the 3 locks.

"I don't often get visitors here, so apologies if the place is a bit messy!"

As you walked into the house, something already felt odd. Like there was a chill in here of sorts, but you figured it was just from standing with the door open so long. You heard her thuds from behind and she walked past you, beckoning you to follow her into the main area. Following her, you started to take in your surroundings. Pictures on the wall of just Honey, all above your head though, if she lives alone it makes sense though, but to only have pictures of yourself up seemed a bit odd, no?

Stepping into the main area, you encountered another odd feeling as you took it all in. The furniture was surprisingly tall, taller than you'd seen. The couch looked like it came up to your waist. Stools at the kitchen counter were almost shoulder height to you. Had she custom ordered all this furniture? Some of it almost seemed even too tall for her?

"I see you noticed the furniture, don't worry, I'm still growing into it myself!"

Growing into it? What was that supposed to mean? Maybe just a figure of speech? You pondered this as you saw her walk over to the couch and plop down. She shot you a glance and patted the cushion next to her.

"Come sit! We should get to know each other better, this is our first time after all."

You awkwardly smiled back at her as you walked over to the couch. As you got closer to the furniture, your observations weren't unfounded, this couch was truly massive. Her sitting on it made it look like a normal sized piece of upholstery, but next to you, it made you feel like a kid again.

"Sorry, couch is a little high, I gotcha though!"

"What do you-?"

No sooner did the words come out as she put two hands under your arms and lifted you up, with ease, and plopped you down on the cushion beside her.

"Wow, you feel a lot lighter than you listed on your application! Granted, maybe this growing girl just doesn't know her own strength yet!"

Growing girl? Twice now she's referenced growing and still it made no sense. This girl was already massive and clearly approaching 30, how in the world was she growing?

"So, before we start, I wanted to thank you. I've noticed you in my streams for the last couple years. I see the donations you send and the clothes you ask me to try on. No doubt these gals have caught your eye." She shimmied her shoulders and gestured to the heaving shelf of breast hanging from her torso.

"I appreciate the clothes a lot, it's never easy covering these puppies up, believe you me. I swear, they eat up whatever I cover myself with and then some."

You blushed, she was clearly very comfortable in her skin, I mean hell, she shows herself off online for millions of people to see, why were you surprised. You kept darting glances down to her chest as she spoke. God they were huge, unrealistically so. How could something so massive come into being? Something so warm and inviting yet erotic and arousing all at the same time.

"Ahem. Did you hear anything I just said?"

"What? Sorry, I was jus-"

*Giggle*

"I'm just messing with ya! You clearly are having a little trouble paying attention, almost like somethings...caught your attention?"

She slowly rose from the couch and crawled towards you. Her heaving chest swinging from even the slightest motion as she closed the distance between you. The closer she got, the more of your vision was obscured by that inviting trench in front of you. God what you wouldn't have given to dive right in there.

"Ya know...these girls really have a mind of their own sometimes...they get hungry, and when that happens, there isn't much I can do to calm em down. They just keep growing, year after year, bigger and bigger as time passes."

Inches from your face now, you can smell the sweat from her skin as her cleavage floods your vision. Swinging, back and forth, pendulously in your face, they're all you can see.

"Would you like to...see them get even bigger?"

Oh god. You're on the brink, you feel your faculties leaving you, almost as if you're regressing to a more animalistic state. You need to touch them, feel them, taste them, you need to be between them now. In an instant you throw up your hands on either side and dive face first into that canyon.

*Giggle* "You're not one to mince words, are ya? Just going headfirst, well don't let me stop ya, explore to your heart's content."

You mash your face in between them, pressing down on either side, burying your face more and more. The more you explore these mighty breasts of hers, the more you seem to lose yourself, the less the world around you seems to matter. Squeezing, smushing, licking, this has become your world now.

"There's a good boy, you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

Her voice invades your mind and almost snaps you out of your trance, you start to notice little changes. When were you on her lap? Was she always caressing your back? Wow, these breasts truly are enormous, it's incredible how your hands just...sink into them like pudding. It's almost like...the longer you caress and squeeze, the bigger they get...

As these thoughts flood in, you notice that you're struggling to breathe a little. You haven't come up for air in a while. You try to pry the breasts back a little bit to let yourself some air but...they won't budge? In fact, they feel so heavy, you're hardly even squishing into them anymore. You place your hands on the front of her breasts and start pulling back, trying to pry your head free, until you finally released yourself with an audible *POP* and tumble backwards.

The world all slowly comes back into view, your surroundings start to become more clear, but something's off now. You start to pull yourself up to stand, but feel the couch beneath your feet? Your senses start to come back rapidly as you see you're standing on the couch, but the back of the couch is towering over you. You gulp, shocked and start to panic.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Shhh, sweetie, relax."

You hear her low, sultry voice as you look back on her and almost fall back by what you see. There she is, on the far side of the couch, vastly looming over you. From your vantage point, she must be at least 35ft tall.

"What's going on?! What did you do to me?!"

"Aww, baby, can't you tell yet?"

She reaches out to you, you quiver as you see her gigantic hand approaching you, each finger bigger than a summer sausage. You try to push her hand away, but to no avail, she's far, far stronger than you. She wraps her fingers around your torso, lifts you up and carries you over to her face.

"Sweet pee, I wish you could see how cute you are right now. You're like a little bitty toy. You've done so much for me already, I wanted to thank you. You've really made an excellent donation."

"Donation?? What do you mean? Why am I so small? Change me back!!"

"Oh hon, I wish I could but your size is going to somewhere much greater. Just watch."

You see her bite her lip as the changes slowly take effect. You hear a subtle groaning as you witness her transform before your very eyes. You first notice the fingers holding you in place start to thicken, covering more and more of your torso. Then you see her thighs slowly plumpen, growing thicker and lusher. Then you notice the biggest part: her chest. Each breast begins to balloon, almost as if inflating, growing outwards and upwards, you can hear her bra beginning to creak and snap under her newfound weight. Her tank top straps strain and spaghetti before snapping and falling limply down her torso.

By the time it's all done, you see her take a deep breath as the tatters of her old outfit start to slip away.

"Wow, that was the best one yet! I just knew you'd be my biggest supporter. Apologies for these old rags though" as she gestures to her clothes, "allow me to slip into something more...fitting."

In a flash, you see the clothes on her body begin to morph, a black tank slowly forms from her old rags and lines up to hoist up her immensely enhanced bust. The straps, incredibly thin, squish down into her soft, pliable flesh.

"There, that looks better on me, dontcha think?"

"What the hell is going on?? How are you doing this? Why are you doing this?!"

She lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Hon, how do you think I got like this in the first place? How do you think I got this incredible body that lead to all these followers and all this fame? Donations of course! The sweet, perverted masses like yourself that so kindly add to, well, these masses!" She says as she honks her left breast, it's girth pouring out between her fingers.

"But, why? You don't even know me! I loved you and your content, I was happy to make those donations if they made you happy!"

"Hon, you and I both know why you made donations to begin with. You haven't been able to look at anything else since you got here, that's why you came here in the first place. You don't care about me as a person, you care about this body. Well, now you've made a contribution to the maintaining and improving of this body! You're almost there!"

You feel a sinking feeling in your chest as you swallow deeply.

"Almost?"

She flashes you a devious grin.

"Of course, hon." She speaks in a deep, sultry tone. "There's still so much of you left."

Your eyes open wide as you start kicking and flailing in her grasp, doing anything you can to get away from this monster, but to no avail.

She lets out a low, echoing chuckle, "You'll have to try harder than that, hon! I can hardly feel your weight, let alone your struggles! And as much as I LOVE watching your little flailings, Mama's got a stream to do tonight, so."

And with that, she slowly brings you closer to her chest, dangling you above the gully that is her cleavage, and flashes you one last smile.

"Thanks for the donation, hon!"

With that, she stuffs you down between her breasts, deep, deep down, almost as if into the core of some desolate planet. As she reaches the centre, she releases her grip on you and retracts her hand. What little light you see from above vanishes as her hand leaves your prison and the crushing weight of her bust surrounds you. You try to move, try to kick, punch, scream, bite, anything, to no avail. You feel a vibration echo around you, clearly she's laughing at your struggles. The pounding of her heart starts to fill your ears, it's low, resonating rumble almost calming you as you miserably accept your fate. You close your eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

-Hours later-

You slowly awaken, hot and sweaty, a dry scratchy feeling in your throat, no doubt from your screaming. You're not sure where you are though, your eyes are hazy and struggling to adjust to the darkness, but you see a small sliver of a silvery haze far, far, far above you. Moonlight? You reach out for it, only to feel a warm, moist mass beside you. What is this? It almost feels like-

Your heart starts racing. You start to panic and snap your head around to acquaint yourself with your surroundings, until you hear a loud, roaring rumble echo around you. A snore. You find yourself plastered to the side of her breast, deep within her bosom, the sliver of light a small amount of moonlight peaking into her cleavage. You try to yell out, but you're still hoarse. You can hardly move your limbs as you try to scratch her breast. You feel a sudden movement as you think you've gotten her attention. Your hopes are instantly crushed as the light vanishes and you start to feel the weight of her other tit come crushing down on you. Your incredibly mild annoyance only caused her to roll over in her sleep, crushing you further down as the goddess around you rests. All that's left to hear is the subtle beat of her heart all around you.

You close your eyes and let out a single tear as you accept your fate, the irony of the situation finally settling in.

You always wanted to contribute to those beautiful breasts, and now, you finally have.

[mrsbarnesxxx]

Eddie Diaz x reader

Angst but fluff at the end

Where maybe the reader is married to Eddie and she asks him about if he ever wants a kid with her and he takes it the wrong way and says something like I only need Christopher and he’s enough, and the reader gets upset and walks off and maybe drives to Maddie’s and chimneys and while she’s gone he goes to their room and finds a box on the bed and he opens it to see the readers ultrasound and he immediately feels bad and goes to talk to her and happy ending.

Thank you so much for the request! I altered it only slightly (just where Eddie finds the ultrasound) but I loved this concept. I love angst with a happy ending!

It was a pretty normal day all in all. Carla was taking care of Christopher, Eddie was at the station, your boss kept sending hundreds of emails, oh and you had found out you were pregnant. Just an average day. You hadn't planned this by any means. You and Eddie had never talked about having a baby. You had been married for a year and a half, but the subject had never come up and you had never pushed it. Look how well that had gone. After staring at the stick in your hand for what felt like an eternity, you finally pushed yourself up from the floor and left the bathroom.

"Hey, Carla, are you okay if I run out? I have to go do something. It should only be about an hour." You say grabbing your keys.

"Of course, honey. Go right ahead." She says.

"Thanks, Carla. Bye bud," you say kissing Christopher on the top of his head before heading out of your and Eddie's shared house.

You didn't even know what you were doing until you were sitting in the waiting room of the local doctor's office reading a magazine.

It wasn't until one of the nurses had called your name 3 times that you seemed to realize they were calling you.

"Sorry." You apologize sheepishly standing and following her back to a room.

Sure enough, the doctor confirmed you were about 6 weeks pregnant and sent you home with a picture of the tiny baby. You knew you couldn't hide this from Eddie for long since you were likely to start experiencing more symptoms, but a part of you was worried about how he would react. Everything had finally settled down with Christopher and work. Everything was stable per se. And now you were throwing a wrench into the serenity the two of you had worked so hard to create. Finally, you decided you would broach the subject once Christopher had gone to bed. You would just ask him if he ever thought about having more kids. Yeah. That would work.

So, that night after Christopher was in bed and you and Eddie were alone in your room getting ready for bed, you took a deep breath before deciding now was a good time to approach the subject.

"Hey, Eddie?" You asked putting lotion onto your arms. "Have you ever thought about maybe having another kid?"

"What?" He asks brows furrowed as he pulls the covers down and joins you in the bed.

"Have you ever wanted another kid? I mean I love Christopher, but I was just curious." You explain, heart racing.

"Not really. I mean, I'm happy with Chris. He's a handful as it is and with him getting older, I don't know. I'm happy that the diaper changes and waking up to screaming is over." He says.

Anger surges through you at his admission. How could he say that? How could he openly admit to your face that he didn't want the baby growing inside of you...not that he knew about that, but that wasn't important.

"Were you even around for that?" You ask not thinking about what you're saying, just infuriated at him. "I mean didn't you enlist right after Shannon had Chris so didn't you pretty much luck out and miss all of those years?"

"What the hell are you saying?" He asks, confused at why you're attacking him all of a sudden.

"I just mean don't you not even know what it's like to be there for those years, so isn't that not a fair standard to measure it by?" You argue.

"What's going on with you?" He asks, turning to you, trying to contain his anger.

You scoff, "Nothing."

"Something's going on 'cause you're acting like a real bitch to me right now for no reason." He says. Instantly his face drops, realizing what he just said to you. "I-"

"Fuck you, Eddie." You say standing up and grabbing your coat. You don't listen to him as he follows after you, grabbing your keys and walking out of the house. You just get in your car and drive.

Eddie watches as you leave, slamming the door behind you. He really messed up this time. "Fuck!" He exclaims hitting the table. Your purse tips over as his fist makes contact with the table. a paper falling out. The paper catches his attention, the white clashing against the dark oak of the table. He reaches to put it back in your purse when the other side of the paper intrigues him. He turns it over to see a blob in the middle of the page. His face drops instantly, he runs his hand through his hair staring at the blob that is the reason for your outburst a few minutes earlier. He sighs texting Buck asking him to come stay with Christopher. 15 minutes later, a confused Buck shows up at Eddie's door.

"Uh...Everything alright? It's kinda late for a sleepover." He says.

"I messed up." He sighs stepping aside. After a quick explanation to Buck after letting him inside, Eddie is on his way out the door, texting everyone if you're with them. A few minutes into his search, Chimney texts back saying that you're there with Maddie and that he really messed up this time.

20 minutes later he's standing outside of Maddie's apartment, ultrasound in hand as he knocks with his free hand. Maddie answers, hands on her hips, brow raised at him, and sass written all over her face.

"I know, I know. Can I just talk to her?" He sighs. Maddie steps aside and lets him find you on the couch.

"Amor?" He asks cautiously, approaching you carefully.

"What do you want, Eddie?" You ask not looking at him.

"Can we talk?" He asks coming to sit next to you. The picture in his hand is what catches your eye. You look up at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly open. "When you asked me if I wanted more kids, you should have told me you were pregnant."

"I was trying to figure out how you would react." You explain.

"Just because it wasn't in my plan to have more kids doesn't mean I won't love this baby." He sighs.

"Well, when I broached the subject you didn't seem thrilled." You say sadly.

"Well, you started attacking me when I said I didn't want more kids." He says softly.

"I'm sorry." You say.

"Me too." He says taking my hand in his. "Come on, let's go home."

"Okay." You say taking his hand and standing with him. After saying goodbye to Maddie and Chim, you and Eddie make your way to his truck and start back home.

"So, how far along are you?" Eddie asks as we pull out of their driveway.

"6 weeks." You say quietly. He starts laughing and you look at him with amusement.

"Does that mean-" He cuts himself off with a laugh. "That we made a baby-"

"At Bobby and Athena's party, yep." You chime in laughing along with him.

He smiles taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it. Looking into his eyes, you knew that soon, everything would be back to normal and you'd have a new addition to your family.

[tojisth3rdwife]

Toji wasnt much of a gossip, but you being his girlfriend, he made the occasional exception. He could listen to you rant and ramble all day if it meant being close to you. Even if he barely registered half of what you were saying.

“That bitch waits until the end of the day to call me in her office, talking bout some ‘I wanted to discuss something schedule related before you head out’..As if she couldn’t have said something that morning or sent an email.” You grumbled as you dunked the large plate into the sudsy water.

Day dreaming.

Mindless.

Dazed.

Fixated.

Words that would be used to describe the way Toji watched you.

He’d been sitting at the kitchen island on a bar stool for the last few minutes as you washed dishes in your old cheer shorts and tight cropped camisole, giving him an unobstructed view of your ass.

Heart shaped and heavy at the bottom with little dimples of cellulite you used to be self conscious about dotting your skin. If anything, that was his favorite part of your booty. He’d say it gave it character.

Not so distant memories of him burying his face between them with his tongue prodding at your hole, inhaling the scent of your pussy has him shifting in his seat. Moaning his name against the pillows and deepening your arch. Massive hands spreading your cheeks further apart while he ate you from behind, groaning in ecstasy at your taste. Something like that wouldnt be hard to do right now. All he’d have to do is get on his knees behind you and slide your shorts down just enough for him to…

“Toji.”

He blinks at the sound of his name.

“Hmm?” He grunts, head lifting from his palm.

His eyes snap up to your face when you glance at him over your shoulder, a curious brow lifted.

“Are you listening to me?” You smirk at his lazy expression and Toji’s lips tucked against eachother as he nodded, humming affirmatively so that you’d continue.

“Yeah! Of course.. your PTO thing.” He adds in confirmation that he was indeed listening. Somewhat. Despite him being slightly bricked up but you wouldn’t know it since you were too busy running your damn mouth.

You squint at him incredulously but turn away to resume scrubbing.

“Mmhm. So anyway. Then she tells me that Im not approved for the PTO I requested for my birthday trip. And I just laughed because jokes on her. I wasn’t gonna be there whether she approved it or not.”

Water ran loudly as you rinsed a large pot, and you shift your weight to favor your left leg, bringing Toji’s gaze right back to your dimpled cheeks. His tongue runs over his top lip, his eyes climbing the line your spine the way his tongue would on its way up your body after making you cum on it. Toji loved the way you’d shiver and tremble underneath him, making his dick rock hard and ready to slide inside of you. And he knew it would be easy with how wet you got.

“I told her that my request was really just for her benefit. If she doesn't approve it, Im still going.”

“Right..right..” Toji mutters, his attention effectively dividing between what you were saying at the way your cheeks jiggled slightly with even the slightest movements caused by you scraping the decrepit scrub daddy over the skillet.

He wanted to bite it.

Hell, he planned to.

As soon as you finished those dishes. Or perhaps as soon as you shut the hell up.

Whichever happened first.

“..talking about some..’oh well we’re very short staffed so I cant guarantee that I’ll be able to let you off that week’..let. Like she’s my mama or something. Bitch. I’ll call out and have her looking crazy. Anyway, what you thinking about for dinner?”

At his lack of engagement, you spare Toji another look over your shoulder. You find his hooded gaze fixed on you but nowhere near your face and you thoughtlessly glance down at yourself as if you already didn’t know what he was looking at.

“Toji….TOJI!” You laugh, and your boyfriend looks up at you again, blinking dumbly.

“Huh?” He frowns and you roll your eyes.

“Yo ass didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” You turn around to face him, rubbing your damp hands over a dry dish towel. Toji rolls his eyes with a grumpy sigh to accompany it.

“I said I was listening. Your PTO didn’t get approved but you’re taking off anyway. Fuck whatever Lauren says..”

“Lori.” You correct him.

“Lori. Laura. Whoever the fuck. Point is I’ve been listening and waiting on you to stop talking so I can bend you over.” He states shamelessly, reaching down out of your view to readjust himself in his pants.

Your brows shoot up in surprise, but his words make your womanhood jump in excitement and anticipation.

“Aw yeah?” You smirk, only for Toji to mirror you. In seconds, he’s on his feet and rounding the kitchen island to stand in front you. His cool green gaze pins you against the counter as he pressed up against you, his fingers already teasing at the elastic band of your shorts.

“Yeah, so hurry up and finish the story...”

[satoruhour]

a/n: uururgghghh im starting to struggle to write i swear the next one will be a fluff one. pt.2 to this

warnings: long piece, sugar daddy!au, discussions of kinks including daddy kink, filming, cockwarming, creampies / breeding kink, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f and m receiving), phone sex, fingering, cumshots, praise, somnophilia, handjobs, size kink, lingerie, let me know if i missed anything, n*sfw under the cut

✶ NANAMI

nanami is an interesting sugar daddy. he thinks it’s bc the opportunity came so randomly that he didn’t know what to do, so he’s new to this as you’re new to him, not expecting the man to show up when you had sent a drunk email to a craigslist listing

it was amusing seeing your email, but he could tell there was at least a bit of need for some monetary assistance when u sent it in because yes, you were drunk but also the type of honest drunk that reminded him of a certain friend… you literally spelt it all out for nanami in the email

and you explicitly remember sinking into your hands when you listened to your friend to go ahead with the meeting and nanami’s small amused smile, knowing way more things about you on your first meeting just from the message

you’re nanami’s first sugar baby, so tbh he doesnt know what to expect, but if he were to actually choose, he wouldnt want a sugar baby, like geto, who is too used to being indulged and spoiled. he needs gratitude or a thank you when he buys you things and he’s okay if youre picky, just not too bc then it’s like impossible to please you

he reluctantly asks gojo about it later on and he is so annoying while explaining to nanami about sugar babies and stuff, but gojo made some pretty good points, shoving a picture of his own sugar baby into nanami’s face with a laugh and then nanami immediately leaves LMFAO

i’d say nanami is pretty lenient though, just strict about what you spend money on sometimes. like if you’re buying a 2024 diary for you to journal, he’s just going to stare at you because he KNOWS you will not keep that journal up lol (sorry to the those who like to journal ahhdhfner)

or like buying those weird expensive snacks with new, experimental flavours only for it to taste like shit and nanami has to gulp down two glasses of water after eating a bbq flavoured chocolate bar

ok im aware this would work even if he wasn’t ur sugar daddy but just pretend

nanami learns the ins and outs for caring about a sugar baby pretty fast, wiring you an allowance everyday and bringing you to events occasionally, but more importantly figuring out your boundaries and how this relationship would go about

it started off purely transactional at first, but then he starts to imagine meeting up more with you, taking you places. it happens against his will for him bc he’s seen these types of relationships fall apart, and he hates opening up to ppl in the first place. but then one day you’re telling him youre meeting with someone from university and he gets so annoyed the next time you meet up

turns out you were hoping he’d do something about it, and he did

like gojo, he wants to be a good boyfriend as he is being your sugar daddy

although he’s very stoic, you know he cares for you when he does small things like buying you the right kinds of pads, paying silently for the dinner when he goes to the “toilet”, finding jobs with you because he doesnt mind if you want to earn ur own money, occasionally buying you little things he finds in high-end stores that are not clothes that reminds him of you.

he doesn’t mind the minor dent in his account after treating you, bc he knows you’re content with already needing money for university. the extra gifts are just a bonus and it warms your heart when he does all these small things

gives you money like semi-often!! he knows you dont spend it impulsively so he spreads out the times he gives you your allowance 

being his sugar baby is sooo classy like you have gotten so many tight black dresses for events that sometimes you cant find things to wear to the grocery store

goes ALL out for anniversaries always, buying you matching necklaces where he takes the other half, bouquets of flowers, that pair of earrings you were looking at the storefront

oh yea he’s always buying you bouquets, you have no idea where to put them

he’s better with larger, wearable gifts as opposed to gojo’s type of small trinket gift giving, but just like gojo he also loves getting you an initial necklace, but just for the sole purpose of showing that you belong to him. it’s cute, he finds himself staring at the N.K. on your neck every time you meet up 

nanami loves his suits, but he is TERRIBLE at dressing out of them. mismatched patterns, ugly ass shoes, please save him

he lets you drag him to buy some clothes for him but whatever he swears he just looks like a grandpa. maybe it’s bc of his light coloured hair

very good at giving pointers for your style tho, so he smiles when he sees you pick a dress bc he said so, a hand dipping down to your ass to squeeze briefly

loves when you visit him in the office whenever you have no classes for the day, a cute sundress on as you bring his lunch like a cute lil wife.

he values privacy a lot and doesnt like to open up at times, so it takes a while for him to properly let you in in his insecurities and doubts. it happens at first when you realise nanami doesnt call you the various pet names he does when around ppl he knows and you bring it up and it escalated into a whole argument

you were just so close to leaving to give him his space but then he starts slowly about having people leave him before and he doesnt want to mess this shit up again. he feels you deserve better, but you told him he is better

with that, u were able to deepen ur bond, but also it allowed nanami to allow a person in his life again, letting your things take over his bathroom space and living room

the first time he considers buying a ring is when you hang off his arm and interact kindly with his clients and fellow CEOs, ignoring the strange pull of his heart. it’s like you understand the importance of

these events, and even though through knowing you and how you didnt exactly favour crowded places, you still put yourself through it

you have to catch your breath later in the bathroom and nanami’s outside, worried as hell and you tell him youre fine, but he’s not having it so u roll your eyes and exit the bathroom, shocked to see his usually calm face turned into an expression of anxiety

he says that you both will leave immediately and you protest but all he does is shake his head and drive you back. needless to say you had so much more fun watching stupid romcoms and cuddling until youre waking up in the morning to something poking you in the back and there’s this adorable flush that overcomes nanami’s cheeks lol

n*sfw hc’s below

doesnt like to jerk off normally. if he does it’s usually morning wood or after seeing a beautiful woman but he just. doesnt get those desires and the need for release. that doesnt mean hes not good at sex or whatever. hes had his days during uni and stuff, but ever since he’s started work it’s been so busy he really has no time whatsoever

sex life with nanami is sweet yet unpredictable. youve always started out slow and sensual mainly because he doesnt want to hurt you or go too roughly but one day youre bringing up how to make ur sex life more exciting and he went “i couldve done this the whole time?”

you had the best night of your life that night jus sayin!!!!

we have established this thru the fandom but nanami is a pleasure dom when it comes to you, not quite like geto who likes watching you do the work. nanami has to give you the pleasure himself

he’s eaten you out more times than youve fucked and he’s really done it everywhere. he has done it under the table when youre on a call for your class. he’s done it at event bathrooms, he’s done it at night in the park. 

NOW. nanami is not big on public sex but then he sees you bend over during your picnic to catch the plastic bag and the wind blew up ur skirt and he saw ur cute little pussy under …. he couldnt resist it

likes the the possibility of getting caught, and it’s obvious you might because you r soooo wet every time he flicks at your clit

he only does it if he gets to eat you out, and if hes really needy, he’ll grant you a quickie but other than that he can hold himself back - plus you deserve better than to be bent over a bathroom sink

also loves breeding you, unprotected sex all da way. likes the way it seeps out of you and your shivers when you feel him fill you up. would get a vasectomy for you considering how much he looooves to cum deep in you

regarding the kinks you may have brought up to him it’s just hoping he’d be rougher, maybe even try some degradation, you even discussed he could use you when youre sleeping if he wanted to. other things include phone sex and the use of toys, but you mentioned that as long as you were both comfy there could always be a fun time

and bro loved it. u realise he’s only ever focused on praise on most days but when he’s stressed from work he always takes it out on you and you fuckin love it lol.

youve done it over the phone a few times but he thinks he prefers to do a video call better, but the first time he wanted to he didnt know how to switch the call from an audio to a video one and you had already came lmaoooo

you were giggling once nanami grumbled over the receiver, but you helped him easily just by talking bout how youd ride him or how youd suck his cock

10/10 that experience and being with you made him be more open to blowjobs more often, not that he didnt before! but hes always been putting you first that hes never thought much abt his own pleasure <3

warning for drabble: consensual somnophilia, no foreplay, mating press, nanami is a little rough, brief fingering and cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink

nanami comes home to your sleeping figure, calm and even breaths leaving your person with a small smile on your face and all he can do is coo, running a hand up your thigh before preparing to carry you, not expecting that when you open your legs, he sees the centre of your pants harbouring a darker, wet spot, pussy lips pulled taunt from how tight your pants were.

and the man immediately chokes back a moan, remembering the conversation after he had used you to your limit on the kitchen counter, scratching on the smooth marble surface while your face was smushed up against the flat surface. with a little grin, you wished he let out his frustrations on you more, even when you were sleeping — and what better time now that his head was close to popping a vein with how incompetent his workers were?

a moan distracts nanami’s thoughts, and among the unintelligible noises you make, he can figure out how you’re probably dreaming, cock hardening once he hears that you w’nna be filled. that is enough reason for him to unbuckle his pants with a relieved sigh, the cold air on his length making him hiss as he peels his underwear off him, length hitting his torso from how hard he was.

“you don’t know what you do t’me, baby,” nanami mumbles, pumping his cock with slow strokes before swiping your pants to the side, lightheaded from just how wet you seem to be. he drags his cock along your folds, collecting your slick on his leaking tip that mixes with the pre-cum and he groans at how you seem to drip more just from that gesture, inching his fat cock into your pliant cunt without much trouble.

you’re so tight, sucking him in the moment he’s sheathed in you until he bottoms out and you’re whining louder now, still bordering on the line of consciousness and unconsciousness. you’re clenching around him so hard that he struggles to move, until he’s feeling you grasp his arm with fatigue in your eyes.

“use me, kento—” nanami grunts at those words, pulling out just to slam back into you and the slutty moan that leaves you cuts through your slumber because nanami’s deeper than he’s ever been in you. your eyes crack open at your boyfriend who’s currently fucking into you, hips moving at a speed faster usual and you cry out when his tip kisses your cervix just barely. 

“feel so fuckin’ good, just let me use you like a cocksleeve, alright?” nanami groans out, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest and the change in position makes you whine, hitting your spots so well now that you’re in a mating press. from here nanami is hypnotised with the way your juices collect on his length, the squelching noises of your sopping cunt only fuelling him on. “who’s making you feel this good, baby?”

there’s tears that linger at your waterline, struggling to even get out a coherent sentence when you’re babbling incomplete sentences and nanami smiles at the drool leaving the corners of your mouth. “you— you a-are— oh my god!”

“rub your clit for me, doll,” nanami whispers out, already feeling his orgasm approaching from how snug you were around him, and the feeling of your fingers massaging languid circles into your clit makes him grunt, and soon after that nanami cums with a loud moan, so vulnerable in that moment that his deep voice goes up a pitch as he releases in you, hot cum spilling into your womb.

you mewl from the feeling but you’re left empty when he removes his cock and dips down to latch his mouth onto your clit, shoving his fingers into your gaping hole to keep you filled. nanami sucks on your bundle of nerves until you cum with a cry of his name, toes curling on his shoulder as your slick drips down his hand. “messy, messy baby,” nanami grins, popping his fingers into his mouth before he spreads your pussy, seeing the mixture of your cum and his leak out, “let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

✶ TOJI

toji is an all rounded sugar daddy!!! boyfriend.. not so much he is a man who values work and does it well but he gets engrossed in it too much

preferences for a sugar baby vary bc theres a lot of factors involved. it’s not just one thing that he feels will dictate if he likes you as a sugar baby or not but the one important thing he doesnt like is when you dont pull your weight? if that makes sense

like not knowing what you want in life is perfectly fine but if youre just sitting on your ass and expecting money to come in it’s irksome to him, especially when hes worked his ass off to get to where he is today

he also likes it if you have a smart, snarky mouth. it amuses him seeing you flip the finger at him or tell some worker in his company off for commenting on your skimpy outfit

you two met in university. when he was younger he used to work as a professor, but now bc hes the CEO of a big company, he’s only able to handle adjunct jobs

basically he helped you out of a shitty house and stress from not having enough money, that causes you not to do your best in classes and he’s so glad he took a chance on you because he’s never seen you so bright before in class. but he couldnt stay much after taking over a CEO position, so he left in the middle of your second year

pleasantly surprised when he gets an email one day thanking him for the stuff he did for you, offers u a job at his company and from then on he says how he’d like to take care of you despite you finishing school

it also starts out as transactional but one day youre asking to meet in his office to ask why youre getting special treatment and youre telling him it’s not necessary when youre working for him now. “nonsense. i want to take care of you.”

his feelings slipped on a late night when he was working overtime and you stayed up too in order to see toji. you wouldnt admit to yourself but you liked him too. a little more than your usual crush bc ohhh lord have you seen his physique

and he comes out to see you still working and comes to annoy you and just gives you a fat stack of money out of nowhere??? hes bad with words ok

he says i mean it and waits for you to make the first move, but you dont and hes leaning forward to give you a soft kiss. ppl were confused as to why the lights of an office were still on at 3am while you were making out needily on his desk and he pulls insane orgasm after orgasm from you that day

hes a doting man, softened by the years of ageing but he works too much. it’s all he ever knows when you’re on his office couch begging him to go home.

will usually buy in lunch bc hes lazy to get it but sometimes youll cook and bring it to him too.

loves to treat you randomly, but theyre always gifts that you’re confused about bc he hasnt bought a gift for a woman in years so the first time he gifts you an air fryer (not sure why i have an obsession w/ air fryers lately) youre like ???? wtf am i supposed to do with this

and he tells you it’s u have easy access to lunch or dinner without leaving your dorms and youre like “honey i graduated already???” and he’s like oh. oh yea

poor guy did this to himself bc hes so deep in work so he doesnt see you often. he probsbly got mixed up with the days where he would meet you in between meetings and he just was there to accompany you on ur study sesh. he liked watching you study, and it would take a while for him to admit he’s actually liked you way before he offered you a job

toji gets better with giving gifts i swear. and he does it, he lovesss to order things and make the delivery man walk up to your desk with a dior box full of clothing

but sometimes he wishes he could do something more meaningful. he likes to give you SIMPLE handmade gifts. sometimes he gets so frustrated bc his fingers r so big so theyre usually easy to complete things. they’re not like of milestones or memories or photos though, more of silly things like paper rings or a paper fortune teller.

writes. a lot, more than geto. he writes more than makes gifts, and his handwriting is so messy sometimes you dont know what hes saying, but he finds that words on paper is much easier for him than voicing it out (this makes me want to write this me thinks)

so you spend a whole afternoon trying to make out what he’s saying like a detective and when sleep catches up to you he can only smile at your deciphering questions like u were trying to solve a cipher and writes you almost got this line right lolol

looks really good in suits but needs to go shopping often bc sometimes he works out too hard and his shoulders grow again at this point he should continually donate his blazers to thrift stores

sometimes he gives them to you as a jacket of some sort and he tries not to twitch from how small u look in them. the attraction goes both ways, and he wants to cuddle you up and also fuck you silly in it

always wearing that tight shirt of his that never rlly fits him. kinda mediocre and repetitive fit — he’s not exactly interested in fashion

loves to treat you to things. loves to spoil you and see you wearing the things he bought for you, but theyre more casual clothes that he spoils you with. man likes one (1) dress and he’s hoping you wear that dress of the rest of your life lol

toji buys you lingerie just to rip it. i swear :/ youre like that was the last one on the rack!!!! and hes just “ill just commission the designer to make another” like you can do that

and he says im actually not sure. oh speaking of commissions he loves to pay for custom pieces or clothing for you. he knows what he wants for you, and he backs off if you dont like it but seeing something he envisioned on your beautiful body — he just loves it

i said at the start that toji’s not that much of a boyfriend but he tries a lot. you can see he’s trying his best to make time for you in between work but it just. doesnt happen unfortunately. he works on the weekends too so sometimes your dates are compromised

youve thought before if it were to return to it being a platonic arrangement but it hurts your heart to think of that after everything youve been through. but this has been a recurring thing that’s been happening, brought up frequently in arguments as well

it was when he had a business trip on the week of your anniversary that the nail finally hit and youre bringing it up again and he knew he couldnt escape it this time bc you were close to crying when usually you dont. does this shit mean nothing to you? did you offer to pay everything for me just to throw me to the side like you always do?

the moment you see he has nothing to say bc he knows it’s true, youre leaving to get some air and it’s the first time he really understands that he wants to keep you for life that he’s making arrangements to give everyone a raise so theyd work better. and then hes taking time off work for a week

he’s still waiting worriedly for you late at night and your friend just gives toji an unimpressed look and gives you to him, breath laced with alcohol and obvious tear stains on your cheeks and he wants to die bc he was the cause of that

he feels so guilty but for now he kisses your forehead and gets you into a clean set of clothes before laying beside you to hug you close to him. in the morning youre hungover and feel like shit and youre letting toji pat your back and giving you a warm cup of water until you’re going arent you supposed to be at work????? and your boyfriend sighs and brings you into his lap, apologising into your neck as he hugs you

toji admits he hasnt been the best and is willing to do whatever it takes for you to be convinced again and you just stay like that, exchanging slow kisses and a warm embrace, unaware that there’s already an idea of putting a ring on you in toji’s mind

n*sfw hc’s below

toji loves your pussy !!!! ohh my god after that whole situation youve had more opportunities now. he had eaten you out before in his office, fucked you there but was always threatened by time. not that he cared but hes had enough of clients backing out on him so you suggested he go into meetings earlier

it came to bite you back in the ass cause you end up being horny for him multiple times and youve only able to bribe him out of meetings successfully like three times

loves any part of your body on his cock. making out? give him a handjob. eating dinner? play footsies with him and use ur feet to massage his dick. in a meeting? BLOW HIM !!!!!

another one who loves to cum on your face, but sometimes he likes to cum on your chest and tits and when you grab his cock to smother the cum on you >>>>>

he was surprised the first time you crawled under his table a minute before his meeting started and he already knew what you had in mind. he was clearly excited, getting hard almost instantly and had to mask the redness on his face with a hand

toji coughs when you first unbuckle his pants and he’s listening in to a coworker pitch a business idea, trying to keep his composure when your mouth first encloses around his tip. and u have the gall to giggle omg? he cums so hard that time he realises hes the only one left in the zoom meeting after and the other made sure to teach you a lesson after, fucking you until everything on his desk ended up on the floor. he’d have to call the company contractor to cover up the scratch marks on the floor ehehe

obsessed with how much bigger he is compared to you, always towering over your person and he has to resist manhandling you when you place an innocent hand on his forearm and ask him a question

LOVES to send you dick pics. and his are the ones where he actually knows how to pose, like palming his bulge in sweatpants when hes home and youre not

takes a pic of his actual dick under the table at work and alludes to the time you gave him a bj 

his pictures are actually SO hot that youre immediately calling him up just to talk to him

you always end up getting off yourself too though, the raspy voice comin from your phone enough to make you cum

before, exchanging lewd messages and pics were a norm but now if he needs you he’s asking his driver to drive you back to his house STAT. bro needs to be in you asap

he once left an event where he was supposed to be presented with some award just bc you sent a very lovely pic of you in the dark green lingerie you bought on his black card

he fucked you so well that night you knocked out immediately and he had to clean you up, all lovestruck and soft

leans into the ‘daddy’ thing pretty okay, but hes okay if you dont use it either

agrees to be in suggestive tiktoks where they show off their man only to do something totally inappropriate so now that vid is kept in your priv collection bc it ended up being extended and became a vid of you holding your front camera up to your face with tongue lolled out and profanities leaving your mouth

he takes the phone later from you to film how his cock moves in and out of you yyuuuummm he loves it

like gojo, loves to video you because sometimes he goes on long business trips and he needs to have something to jerk off to

his favourite is when you’re on your back and he’s filming your pussy taking his fat cock, folds spreading so nicely while his cum from earlier forms a white ring around the base of his cock oh god he watches that over and over

also loves cumming in you but more of the thought of marking you compared to knocking you up

cockwarming aahhahsddj it’s one of his other favourite things to do, hiking your skirt and tears your pantyhose, sinking you down on his aching length and he just loves the wrap of your pussy around him. trust me he’s trying not to thrust up into you but youre breaking down easily and he hisses every time you shift just a little

warnings for drabble: cockwarming, daddy kink, semi-public sex (toji’s on a call and the person on the line hears), riding, clit stimulation, calls you ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink

“c’mon, tojiii, just for a while?” you pout, tugging on his arm with big doe eyes, smiling to yourself when he just sighs and mutters out a fine.

toji can’t help but smile either way, receiving the peck on your cheek with heated cheeks, but now he smiles wholeheartedly, his hard cock buried in you while you struggle not to move. there’s wireless buds in his ears, stuck in the middle of a meeting while your face is hidden in his neck, soft pants leaving your mouth.

you’re thankful the camera isn’t on at least, but you’re still at risk with the small sounds you make, trying to focus on anything but the pulsing large cock in you. you already regret asking for this when you knew he had a meeting coming up with the thought of making him crave for you. instead it happens the other way around, you begging him to move with your hips while he calmly puts his hands on them, rubbing circles into your back like it helped.

but you don’t care, not when you’re filled to the brim like this and you can’t move, so slowly you start to roll your hips, grinding onto his pelvis and you can hear toji exhale shakily, voice still firm as he agrees ro the budget the client proposed. his hand holds the back of your neck and pulls you from the embrace, setting his eyes on you with a warning but you only can shrug, lifting your hips before dropping down on his cock.

“angel…” he mutes the microphone, the man droning on about numbers and profits making his head spin when his pretty girl was deliberately ignoring his warnings, but he couldn’t blame you with how your hot, tight pussy felt around him. toji assumed his plea of that simple name he liked to call you was enough, but when he unmutes his mic, you’re pulling one side of his earbuds off, mouth close to his ears.

“please, daddy…” you mumble, still bouncing on his thick cock. by now you’ve been cockwarming him for an hour, cunt slick with juices that it drips down his balls and onto the office chair, the movement of your hips only highlighting the lewd, sopping sounds of your pussy. there’s no doubt the other man hears what’s going on but you only press on, the chair creaking below the both of you as you ride him. toji’s trying so hard not to groan himself, throat tight and uncomfortable.

“let him hear,” you whimper out, a hand reaching down to rub your clit and toji grunts at the thought of it, of you knowing you belong to him, “wan’ him to know how good my daddy makes me f-feel, mmf—”

and so he listens to you once you say that, wrapping both arms tightly around you before his hips also meet yours, your juices spurting and spilling all over from how wet you were. your moans get louder in his office while he bullies his thick cock into you, tip kissing your spots so deliciously that you can only manage one word pleas. you sink easily into him after a while before he takes the lead, fucking up into you with the sounds of his balls hitting the fat of your ass.

“my pussy’s so warm and tight. ya likin’ this huh? you little slut,” toji grins, loving how he can feel your nipples through your work attire and the stretch of your pussy on him and the shock on the other’s face. if anything, you both knew how much he wished the camera was on on toji’s side.

“y—yeah, love it s’much! gonna cum, toji—”

toji only hums, capturing your lips in a kiss and effectively swallowing your whimpers as he thrusts deeper into you, “pretty girl’s gonna cum?”

“y-yeah daddy…” he feels you nod and mumble, hands massaging your sides before he feels your pussy clench around him and you cum with trembling thighs and a lax jaw. the way you look and feel also has toji grunting out with stuttering hips and he shoots his load deep in you, sending you into a blissful, dazed state as he spills his white liquid deep down your cunt.

with a shiver, you’re catching your breath before feeling his cum spill out of you, blobs of white pooling at the hilt as you swipe a finger at it to pop it in your mouth, exchanging a grin with toji before he starts a pace again, call long forgotten and a transfer at the tip of his fingers to keep his loyal client’s mouth shut.

ty for the request muaahahahah @moonjella

[voxslays]

In the Elevator ~

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which Vox calls reader to a meeting when suddenly the elevator breaks down, leaving the two of them alone together for the first time in seven years.

Warnings >>> Smut, AFAB! Reader, A lil angst

Seven years ago, you and Vox were best friends. Until he confessed his feelings for you. You were scared to admit your own feelings and ruin your friendship. Unfortunately, when you tried to (lightly) break it to him, he was distraught. Vox completely shut you out of his life. So it was a big surprise when he sent an email requesting to meet with you again. 

You enter the Vees tower. One of the receptionists walks up to you. They immediately recognize you. “Hi! What may I help you with?” You respond, saying you have to talk to Vox. The worker is surprised, but messages someone through their V-phone. Minutes later the receptionist leaves and there someone stands in the doorway of the entrance to the V tower, Vox. “Looks like you finally came to see me after all those years, hm?” He says. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” Your tone is filled with distaste, still angry about your falling out. “What is it you wanted to talk with me about?” You ask curiously. “Oh, I think it’s better we discuss it privately. Come with me.” He says, gesturing towards the elevator. You hesitate for a moment before deciding to follow him, entering the elevator with him. The elevator was reasonably big, with fancy railings, a skylight, and a giant window on the back wall of the lift. 

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here.” Vox says, turning to face you. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about some...rumors that have been going around about you. You know how people love to talk, right?” You sigh. There had been a couple dating rumors about you going around. Being an overlord in the spotlight was never easy, but it had only gotten harder since you and Vox ended your friendship. “I didn’t know you cared about such miniscule rumors.” Vox rolls his eyes. “Are they true? They better not be.” He asks, getting angrier.

“So what if they are!? Why do you care!?” You raise your voice. Suddenly Vox’s anger reaches its limit and the power goes out. The elevator comes to a halt, making screeching sounds. Vox’s eyes widen and he rushes to the control panel, frantically pressing buttons. The elevator lurches and shudders, the lights flickering on and off. Vox lets out a frustrated growl as he slams his fist against the control panel. “Great, just great…” He huffs. 

Vox turns to face you, his face red with frustration. “Now look at what’s happened! We’re trapped in this stupid elevator, and who knows when someone will come to rescue us. And it’s all your fault!” He shouts, taking a step closer to you. “My fault!? How is it my fault!? You were the one who called me here!” You yell back. “Well, if you hadn't come, none of this would have happened!” Vox argues back. “You’re always causing trouble for me, one way or another. And now, we’re trapped in this tiny space together! Just wonderful…!” Vox’s face slowly turns redder and redder as he speaks, his voice growing louder and more heated. He takes a step closer to you, towering over you with his tall figure. “You know what? I think this is karma. Karma for rejecting me all those years ago.” Vox huffs again, crossing his arms. 

You remember his face that day. It went from zero to sixty so quickly. “Look-! I didn’t mean to break your heart! I tried to break it easily!” You say anxiously. “Easy? You think breaking someone’s heart is easy? You tore mine out and stomped on it!” Vox’s face is inches away from yours now, his voice a low growl. He pauses, his eyes flicking down to your lips. “You know...I never even got to kiss you…” You can feel the tears forming in your eyes. “I just wanted to stay friends because I was scared! Okay!?” You shout. Vox’s expression softens for a moment, before hardening again. “Well, now it’s too late. Friends? We’re not even that...” His voice trails off as he leans in closer, his hands finding your waist.” You sigh, looking down at your feet. “I was scared of losing my best friend. Little did I know I’d lose you anyways.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek. Vox buffers, his expression conflicted. He hesitates, his hands tightening on your waist. “You...you really cared about me that much?” He asks quietly, his voice barely a whisper. His face is so close to yours, his warm breath fanning across your face. “I did.” Vox searches your face for any sign of insincerity, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on your sides. “You should have just told me...” He says quietly, his face inching even closer to yours. His lips hover over yours, his eyes flicking down to your mouth.

“I know.” You pause. “I'm sorry.” Vox lets out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he finally closes the distance between your lips. He kisses you softly, gently, as if trying to make up for all the lost time. His hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer to him. Vox parts his lips, deepening the kiss as he slides his hands up to your back, pressing your body against his. He kisses you with a fierce passion, all the unspoken words and pent up feelings finally pouring out.

Instantaneously, the elevator shudders again, and Vox breaks the kiss, pulling you into a tight embrace as he looks up at the ceiling. “Great...just great...” He mutters. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. ​​He loosens his grip on you, his hands returning to your waist. He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. “Um...that just...happened,” He laughs awkwardly, clearing his throat. “We should,” He pauses, searching your eyes, while his own shine with a glimmer of hope. “Talk about it later, once we’re out of here,” He says, looking up at the ceiling again. “Let’s just...try to keep each other company, okay? We don’t know how long it’ll take for them to rescue us,” He says, his hands squeezing your waist.

Vox sits down on the floor of the elevator, pulling you down onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck. “At least we have each other for now...” He murmurs, his voice quiet.” The elevator makes another screeching sound, causing you to jump slightly. “This elevator better not drop.” You say, your tone filled with anxiety. “Shut up and hold me,” Vox says, his arms tightening around you. He rests his head on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. After a moment, he speaks up again. His voice muffled as he sinks his face deeper into your shoulder, as far as his TV head can wedge itself into the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn't...you know,” He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“All the time.” Vox lets out a soft sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “I do too,” He admits quietly. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours in another soft kiss. He nuzzles his nose against yours, his eyes fluttering open. “Let’s,” He pauses again. “Pretend that we never fought,” He says softly. “That we’re still best friends...” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “That we’re in love,” Vox murmurs, his voice quiet.

“Okay.” You say, your voice almost a whisper. Vox lets out a content sigh, his arms tightening around you as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “Good,” He murmurs, his voice soft. He begins to trail kisses along your neck, his hands squeezing your thighs gently. He continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, his hands slowly sliding up your thighs. He pauses, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a silent question. “Is this...okay?” He asks softly, his voice barely a whisper. “Yes.” Vox smiles softly, his fingers slowly lifting your skirt up. He settles back into his previous position, his face buried in your neck once more. He starts to kiss and nibble at your skin, his hands gently spreading your legs apart.

Vox's hands slowly make their way up your thighs, his fingers gently caressing your skin. He pauses, his hand hovering over your panties. He looks up at you, his eyes questioning again. “May I...?” He asks softly, his voice trembling slightly with anticipation. You give him a gentle nod. Vox lets out a soft sigh of relief, his hand sliding into your panties. He gently caresses you, his fingers exploring your folds. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, his fingers slowly slipping inside of you.

Vox begins to move his fingers inside of you, his thumb gently circling your clit. He continues to pepper your neck with soft kisses and gentle bites, his other hand gripping your hip. “Ngh!” You moan. He starts to pick up his pace, his fingers curling to hit that special spot inside of you. You cry out. Vox's heart skips a beat as he hears you cry out. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with love. “Shh, it's okay...I've got you...” He murmurs, his fingers never stopping their movements. 

Vox buries his face in your neck once more, his hot breath washing over your skin. He continues to touch you, his fingers moving in and out of you at a steady pace. He can feel you tensing up, your body getting closer and closer to the edge. “That's it, baby.” His fingers curve inside of you, his thumb flicking against your bundle of nerves. “Come for me.” He murmurs, his voice low and sultry. He grins as he feels you clenching around him, your body convulsing with pleasure. 

“Good girl,” Vox holds you close as you ride out your orgasm, his fingers gently caressing your inner walls. He places soft kisses along your jaw and neck, basking in the afterglow with you. After a few moments, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. Vox licks his fingers clean, savoring your taste. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. “Delicious.” He purrs, his hand sliding back under your skirt. He positions himself between your legs, his hard length pressing against your entrance. “Darling. I need you.” He unzips his pants. 

Vox slowly pushes into you, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels your warmth enveloping him. He starts to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans. Vox increases his pace, his hips snapping against yours. He hooks your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper. He breaks the kiss, panting softly as he looks down at you. Vox's eyes roll back in pleasure as he feels your walls clenching around him. He leans down, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “You feel so good.” He growls, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub your sensitive bud. 

Your eyes roll back as whimper. Vox's fingers press firmly against your clit, rubbing quick circles around it as he continues to pound into you. Your body tenses, your legs shaking as you approach your climax. Vox bites his lip, trying to hold back his own orgasm as he focuses on making you come first. “Come with me, darling.” His fingers stop moving as he feels you clenching around him, your body tensing up as you cry out. Vox's grip on your thigh tightens as he slams into you one final time, finding his release deep inside of you. 

Vox collapses on top of you, his face buried in your neck. He takes a few deep breaths, his body shuddering as the last waves of his own release wash over him. He slowly lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he grins mischievously. “I think...” ​​Vox pulls out of you, his hand gently caressing your stomach. “We need to do that again.” He says, his eyes twinkling with desire. He sits back on his haunches, admiring his handiwork. He reaches out, gently caressing your reddened folds as you whine. Vox smiles to himself, knowing he has you right where he wants you. His fingers working your clit in tight circles. He suddenly flips you over onto your hands and knees. “Time to change positions.”

He lines himself up with your entrance again and pushes in slowly, a low moan escaping his lips. His hands grip your hips tightly as he begins to thrust in and out, his pace quickening with each movement. He reaches one hand around to play with your front, his fingers toying with your sensitive nub. Vox's breathing grows heavier as he pounds into you from behind. His fingers continue to rub your swollen bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body. You let out a whimper. He grunts with each thrust, his voice growing louder as he approaches his peak. “You're so close.”

Vox's voice drips with satisfaction as he feels you tense and writhe beneath him, your body convulsing with pleasure. He grips your hips even tighter as he continues to thrust, his own voice growing louder as he nears his own peak. “That's it, baby. Come for me.” ​​Vox's voice is hoarse as he grunts one final time, burying his screen in your shoulder as he finds his own release. His entire body shudders as he spills into you, his arms wrapping around you to keep you close. “God, that was good.”

After a few moments, Vox slowly pulls out of you, his release trickling down your thighs. He turns you over onto your back, hovering over you with a satisfied grin. He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. When he pulls back, he smirks. 

At that moment, the power comes back on. Vox's eyes widen as the elevator comes back to life, the lights flickering on. He quickly moves off of you, quickly getting dressed and straightening his clothes. You do the same. He extends a hand to help you up, his face a mask of cool composure despite the intimate act you just shared. Suddenly, the elevator doors open to reveal a very annoyed Velvette…and Valentino. 

Vox greets Velvette and Valentino with a charming smile, as if he hadn't just been ravishing you mere moments ago. “Ah, there you two are. We were just...discussing business.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a show of casual familiarity. Velvette raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and Vox with suspicion. Valentino seems oblivious, focused on his phone. Vox tightens his grip on your shoulder as the elevator goes up a floor, his fingers digging in slightly as a warning to keep quiet. He turns to you with his signature cocky grin as the elevator stops. “Until next time.” Vox winks at you as he gets off.

A/N: This is my longest post ever. It took up a whole four pages on google docs lol.

[cierraonline]

They’ve been dating for a while pookie I’m sorry

anywaysssss

Did You Miss US?

chapter two: did you miss us?

warning: none

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

XXX

UCONN GAMPEL PAVILION  

University of Connecticut  

Storrs, Connecticut

Okay guys, we’re back…. Did you miss us? ‘Cause we missed you!

Whistle blows

“Listen up,” Geno Auriemma, the man with the plan—the man who built stars and legends—UCONN’s women’s basketball head coach with nearly 1,000 wins under his belt, announced. “This season, I will not be your head coach—” The older man was interrupted by gasps that filled the room. Thirty young women stared at him, mouths agape in shock, while his staff stood behind him in support. “Now calm down. I’m not going anywhere, nor am I retiring. This year, your head coach will be one of our own…. Sasha James.” With that introduction, the brown-skinned girl walked into the stadium and stood next to her mentor, essentially a father figure to her.

“Aahh,” all the returning girls jumped up, rushing to Sasha and pulling her into a tight embrace in congratulations.

“That’s my wife!” Paige pointed to her partner with a wide smile, knowing how much this meant to Sasha.

“Okay, get off me,” Sasha laughed as she tried to push away the arms and hands. “Sit down, y’all are embarrassing me,” she added, mainly addressing her best friends. Once everyone returned to their original spots on the bleachers, her expression turned serious. “So, this year we’ll be following my coaching plan for the women’s basketball team, which was approved by the athletic director, David Benedict,” Sasha said, pointing to the white man who raised his hand in greeting, as it was the first time some players had met him. “First on the list is our Europe tour, a team bonding and learning experience.”

“Really!?”

“Shut up!” The girls jumped up in excitement, thrilled at the prospect of traveling abroad for team bonding.

“Now, we have a problem,” Sasha began, watching the players’ faces grow worried. “There are 30 of us, half of whom are red-shirts due to either prior injuries or eligibility situations. A portion of those who aren’t red-shirts don’t get time on the court because skills aren’t being picked up quick enough. With that, we’re just wasting space and resources. At the end of last season, an email was sent out stating that although the season is over, we want you all to be prepared and in top condition. Freshmen, you got the same email after confirming your commitment to the team. So, before we leave for our trip, we’ll be cutting off the dead weight. Today, you’ll be doing multiple drills and rounds, and if we believe you’re performing well, you’ll stay. If not, I’m sorry, but this will be your last day on the team, regardless of scholarship status.”

Internally, the players felt a bit of panic, but overall they believed they were the best—after all, they’d made it this far.

“You will also have to play according to my standards,” Sasha declared, making the tension rise further. “The goal this season is to win like it has been for the past five years that got us to win Big East Conference and the Final Four. I don’t like losing and I won’t start this season. I like no-score games—it brings in publicity, which brings in money for the department and us as players. I need to know I can trust you all to win without relying on our heavy hitters to play a full game with no breaks. Last season, we recycled the same five players. This year will be different. We have five  players planning to enter the draft, and we need to put them in the best position to be seen and recognized.”

“Are you guys scared?” Geno asked from beside Sasha, observing his players’ reactions. “You should be. We’re still falling behind on basic skills that should come naturally to us. We’re not rebounding properly, not making fast plays, and not thinking smart on the court. There’s no more depending on the starting five or your status to save you.”

“Everything will be tested and calculated, and by the end of the day, the staff and I will be left with the best 14 players to continue with the athletic department. That means 16 of you will be ending your college basketball careers today,” Sasha nodded, watching her teammates exchange glances, wondering who would stay and who would be shamefully dismissed. “Let’s start with suicides—15 on each side, meeting in the middle. Let’s go,” she clapped her hands and took a seat on the bleachers.

Giving them a moment to get into position, Geno blew the whistle, and the running began. “Ramirez is lagging behind; her speed hasn’t improved since her freshman year,” Sasha noted to Geno, who nodded in agreement, jotting down the player’s name.

“Ayanna’s speed seems to have improved since her injury,” Chris Dailey commented, pointing at the sophomore.

“Alright!” Geno blew the whistle. “Line up!” The players stood in a straight line as the staff observed them. The goal of this elimination round was to test speed but also endurance—who looked tired and exhausted? This would show who had taken the offseason seriously and who hadn’t.

“Ramirez, your speed hasn’t improved. Anderson, you look tired, and you’ve only ran for 10 minutes. Bennett, your speed is inconsistent. Davis, Geno feels you’re not giving us your best because you’re overconfident, thinking we can’t replace you. Lastly, Jones, Coach Dailey feels your maturity hasn’t shown any growth. I’m sorry, girls, but you’re off the team. Tomorrow, you’ll have a meeting with David to go over the next steps.” 

Sasha moved on to the next drill. “Alright, let’s do dribbling drills. I want a relay race with 12 on each side, from the left side of the court to the right. The winning side is safe from elimination.” Sasha didn’t have time to watch the eliminated players cry over their lost positions. She needed a winning team—budget-friendly, hardworking, and serious about the chance they are given.

“Flores’ handles are sloppy,” Geno shook his head in disapproval as the player lost control of the ball twice before reaching the other side of the court. “Ines is doing better than last season. Keep a close eye on her.”

“Garcia is looking down too much,” Chris Dailey noted.

“What do we think about the freshmen?” Sasha pointed out Kamorea Arnold, who seemed to have a strong grip on the ball.

“With freshmen, we don’t need perfect; we need to see that there is room for improvement and how fast they can implement corrections,” Geno advised, advising for  Sasha to not expect perfection from the freshmen class. “We want people to see that we create stars, but we also nurture growth and progression.”

“Flores, Garcia, Harris, Johnson, and King, you’re dismissed,” Geno announced, prompting one of the girls to sob and plead for another chance. “You’re seniors, but we have yet to see evidence that shows the progress you made since you’ve been in this program for three years.”

“I plan on entering the draft this year!” Harris cried out.

“You shouldn’t have entered the draft when you’ve haven’t been getting much playing time for the past two years and had no playing time in your freshman year,” Sasha said, moving on to the next test. “Freshmen, you’re safe. Please grab your uniforms, practice schedules, and packing lists.”

“Thank you!” they squealed with big smiles, running to where Chris stood at a foldable table.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Sasha continued. “Geno, Chris, David, and I will each choose a player to save.”

“Paige,” Geno nodded at the blonde, who exhaled in relief before running to the table where Chris stood.

“Nika,” David selected the Croatian player.

“Azzi,” Chris smiled at the league’s best shooter next to Sasha.

“Aaliyah,” Sasha chose.

“Thank you,” Aaliyah whispered as she passed by her friend and teammate, heading to Chris for a congratulatory hug.

“Alright, let’s do rounds. I want to see smart plays… choose your teams,” Sasha directed the remaining players, who were more nervous than ever. With a whistle, a game on each side of the court began, and the returning players played harder than ever. Some stood out for the right reasons, while others didn’t.

“Caroline is thinking smarter; she’s stepping into that leadership role we’ve been waiting for her to take,” Geno commented, watching as she quickly passed the ball to another player instead of holding it and risking a blocked shot.

“Amari’s passes are getting faster,” Sasha noted as the player did a no-look pass to her teammate.

“Aubrey’s defense is improving, especially in blocking and holding screens,” Geno added.

“Alright, line up!” Sasha blew her whistle. “Lewis, Mitchell, Nelson, Parker, Rodriguez—thank you for the time you put into this team, but you’re eliminated,” she announced, watching as the remaining players huddled together, sharing tears and congratulations. “The rest of you, let’s start making corrections faster and implementing them. You’ve been here; you know the standards. It shouldn’t take the last round of eliminations for things to start clicking. We need it to click the minute you step onto the court. Got it?”

“Yes,” they answered, nodding.

“Well, go get your stuff. We’ve got a trip to pack for,” Sasha smiled, clapping her hands.

“Don’t ever put us through that again,” Aubrey jokingly pointed at Sasha as she and Amari pproached her.

“I had to try to get rid of you somehow. Isn’t this your fifth year?” Sasha laughed, nudging the girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t get jumped!” Aubrey laughed.

“Go get your stuff before I have Geno kick you out too,” Sasha rolled her eyes, showing off her playfully sassy side.

[hunkpossession0]

Stealing my former high school bully’s body was so easyyy. Look, now I am hot, and the best part is that I’m gay.

I leaned back in the plush leather seat of his—no, my—new car, savoring the feeling of power. God, I’d waited so long for this. All those years of torment, the sneers, the shoves into lockers, the homophobic slurs... they were all a distant memory now, fading away like smoke. The only thing that mattered was this body I was now inhabiting, perfectly sculpted and oozing confidence.

I smirked at the reflection in the rearview mirror. His—my—strong jawline, the chiseled features that had made everyone swoon, and those piercing blue eyes that used to look down on me with contempt were now mine to control. And control them I would.

The plan had come to me after a particularly rough night, one too many drinks mixed with the lingering bitterness of my high school years. I’d always been obsessed with the idea of revenge, but not the kind that left scars. I wanted something deeper, more satisfying. I wanted to become him. To live the life he’d never appreciated and do it better.

It wasn’t hard to find a spell. You’d be surprised at how many dark corners of the internet are devoted to body swapping. A few emails, a payment sent in crypto, and a strange-looking amulet later, I was ready. The ritual was simple enough—though it took a lot of concentration. But the moment I slipped it around his neck while he slept, it was over in seconds. I woke up in his bed, in his skin, and he… well, I don’t know where he is now. I like to imagine he’s trapped somewhere, conscious of what’s happening but completely powerless.

The first thing I did was check myself out in the mirror—really take in everything I’d just acquired. This body wasn’t just hot; it was perfect. Years of disciplined workouts, clean eating, and who knows what else had transformed him into someone who looked like they walked straight off a magazine cover.

Actually, make that literally off a magazine cover. I found a stack of fashion magazines under his bed with his stupidly gorgeous face plastered on them. He’d somehow turned his pretty-boy looks and gym rat habits into a full-fledged modeling career. I guess that explained the ridiculous number of selfies on his phone, each one showing off a different outfit or a perfectly timed flex in front of the mirror.

So yeah, I wasn’t giving up the gym. If anything, I was leaning into it. It’s not like I had to do much to maintain this body—he’d already done the hard work, and now I was reaping the benefits. I still hit the gym daily, if only to flex for the mirrors and admire my reflection. The attention I get now is incredible, and the best part is, I can be shameless about it.

Of course, I couldn’t wait to see what Grindr was like from this side of things. Installing the app was the first thing I did once I figured out the password to his phone. The moment I uploaded a shirtless pic, the notifications started rolling in—an endless stream of thirsty messages. Guys were practically lining up for a chance with me, throwing compliments, and I have to admit, I loved every second of it.

I’d spend hours swiping through profiles, chatting up whoever caught my eye. The way people reacted to me now was night and day compared to before. No more awkward small talk, no more second-guessing myself. I could tell someone to meet me at the gym just to watch me lift, and they’d show up without hesitation.

And the best part? I’ve started getting more gigs, just from a few posts on social media showing off his—no, my—body. Modeling agencies are all about that lean muscle, those killer cheekbones, that smirk that could melt anyone on the other end of the camera. He’d never really appreciated what he had, but I’m about to take this career to the next level. I’ve already got a photoshoot lined up for some luxury brand—an easy way to rake in the cash while showing off.

His—my—Instagram is blowing up too. I’m always in the gym, flexing and posting thirst traps for the masses. The likes pour in, and the comments? They’re pure gold. People are practically worshipping me, and I’ve only just begun. This body was wasted on him, but now that it’s mine, I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.

Every time I flex, every time I see a new message pop up on Grindr, it’s a reminder of just how sweet this revenge is. Not only did I take his body, but I’m living his life better than he ever could. I’m hotter, more confident, and finally free to be myself in the best possible way.

This is just the beginning.

[lovexjoe]

PENPALS Part 2

You and Armando talked every single day for 2 months straight until he asked you to visit. He didn’t want to make you feel rushed and always want to reassure you that he just genuinely enjoys your company. Falling for you along the way was a bonus. You were such a smart girl, graduating nursing school soon and going on to bigger and better things. He questioned sometimes if he was worthy enough for you. He also questioned if you had twisted parts to you as well cause who would really try to message a criminal like him.

You agreed to seeing him along with bringing him a special gift. He was in Central Florida aka Tampa. You headed inside the prison going through the check ins and pat downs. You didn’t have time to change your nurse scrubs so you sucked it up. The guard lets you know where he’s sitting at waiting for you. He was in a decent prison, one that actually lets you see and touch your loved ones under surveillance of course. You were nervous. You saw him from the doorway and it’s like you two were connected because he looked up from his hands to you.

“Hey handsome,” You give him your beautiful smile and he swore he could probably melt in his seat right there. He pulls you in for a hug. His arms were strong, you felt his muscles under the orange jumpsuit and it made your stomach do a flip.

“Thank you for coming mami. Tell me how was your day” he holds your hand and was completely absorbed with hearing about your life on the outside world. You were graduating soon and you’re most likely moving to Miami since most of your family is down there. He was happy for you, but sad that these visits will come to an end.

After chatting it up for an hour, it was time to say your goodbyes. You slipped him his gift and he gives you a smirk having a bit of a inkling of what it could be.

He pulls you in for another hug.

“Please take care of yourself ….” You worry about him. You noticed the busted knuckles he had probably from getting into fights.

“I’ll do my best.” You stood there looking into each others eyes and Armando couldn’t help himself any longer. He pulls you in for a kiss and you were in fact…. in love with a criminal. The guards lead you out and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. You got it bad and so did he.

The video chats didn’t do him justice he was beyond handsome….and a killer.

The visit was definitely the highlight of your day. His hands felt so good around your waist. You knew he’d enjoy those Polaroids during night hours. The feeling of his lips still linger on yours. When you got home you sent him a message that he could wake up to in the morning.

“I can’t even explain how happy I was to see you. Armando I’m falling for you”

You press send and immediately closed your laptop and placed it as far away from you as possible. You know when you send a risky text and you chuck your phone across the room? Yea try a risky email to a prisoner who won’t see it for another 10 hours.

Armando went back to his cell a happy man. He took the Polaroids out of his pocket and immediately he smiled. You truly were everything he could dream of. These pictures were simple pics of you that you took while out and then one…..one definitely caught his attention. You were in a black lingerie set, judging the way your scrubs fit you he knew you looked amazing underneath. This Polaroid confirmed it. It was hard to rub one out in prison when you’re surrounded by men, but tonight….you were the only thing on his mind. The only thing that brought him pleasure.

*2 weeks later*

Armando didn’t answer your messages at all. Every time you called to speak with him they said he wasn’t taking any calls or visits. You were worried something happened to him, but what if he simply just didn’t want to speak to you? You were already in Miami with your family, but you would make the drive just to see him again. You prayed for him.

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

The very next day after the visit Armando was attacked in prison due to him knowing who McGrath was. He wasn’t allowed access to anything. He yearned to hear your voice. He was losing his mind. He kept your polaroids on him because he looks at them when he needs some hope. After two weeks Mike and Marcus convinced Rita to get Armando transferred to Miami and that brings them to the current time.

“Alright let’s make this quick y’all my daughter just graduated nursing school and she’s back home” Marcus said cheerfully

“You excited to see Y/N or you excited to land and get some skittles?” Mike joked

Armando stood there trying to process what the fuck he just heard.

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