#me crying on the floor because I know it. I can read and hear it. but the letters blend together in my mind

[aventurineswife]

hii there!! this is my first request ever— so sorry if its bad and u dont need to do if id you’re uncomfortable ofc :)) ive had to leave people whom i thought were good friends many times, or ive been abandoned by them and its happened again recently—

so may i ask that you write something with either aventurine or dan heng (u can pick one or both) seeing the reader in their room in the aftermath of having to leave another friend or group of friends? the scenario i have imagined is that the reader is also feeling alot worse than usual since they are starting to feel that they might be the problem. theyre crying about it in their room where the other hears them and comes to check the reader out of worry. the reader talks to them about it and the other comforts them and promises that they wont have to worry about having to leave or being abandoned by them.

so sorry if thats an odd, specific request 🥹🥹 i adore ur writing and i thought it would be cool to ask!! feel free to change anything as you see fit :)

“You Are Not the Storm”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Reassurance, can be read as platonic or romantic.

Warnings: Mentions of loneliness and self-doubt, Emotional distress and crying, Themes of abandonment and self-blame.

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that, anon 😕 i totally get where you're coming from, I had to leave a friend too because of personal reasons and this has happened to me throughout my life, so I totally understand you. I'll be your friend if you'd like. Hope you like this!

The room was quiet save for the muffled sound of sobs. The soft light of the moon filtered through the blinds, casting silvery streaks across the floor. You sat on the edge of your bed, head buried in your hands, your shoulders shaking. The hurt was raw, cutting deeper this time. The thought repeated in your mind like a cruel mantra: Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the problem.

A quiet knock came at the door. You barely registered it, lost in your spiral. Then the door opened gently, and a familiar voice called your name.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Aventurine’s voice was soft but carried an undercurrent of concern. His eyes were filled with worry. He leaned casually against the doorframe, trying not to overwhelm you with his presence. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. That’s unlike you.”

You sniffled, quickly wiping at your face. “I’m fine,” you lied, though your broken voice betrayed you.

Aventurine tilted his head, his hair catching the moonlight. “You don’t look fine, darling. And I don’t like hearing you cry.” He stepped into the room, crossing the space between you in a few strides before kneeling in front of you. He reached out, but his touch was tentative, giving you space.

You hesitated but eventually let the words spill out. “I had to leave again. Another friend, another group… It keeps happening. And I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why am I always the one who ends up alone?”

Your voice cracked, and tears welled up again. Aventurine reached out, this time cupping your hands in his gloved ones. His expression softened, his usual flamboyant charm replaced with a rare sincerity.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Listen to me. This—what you’re feeling—it’s not because you’re flawed. People come and go in life for a thousand reasons. Sometimes, it’s not about you at all. And sometimes… people just don’t see the brilliance that’s right in front of them.”

You shook your head, your doubts still gnawing at you. “But what if it is me? What if I’m too much? Or not enough?”

Aventurine gave a small, sad smile and squeezed your hands. “You’re enough. And anyone who makes you feel otherwise doesn’t deserve you in their life.” His eyes gleamed, his usual playful confidence creeping back in. “Besides, have you considered that maybe you’re just too fabulous for them to handle?”

Despite yourself, a faint chuckle escaped your lips, and Aventurine’s smile widened. “There we go. That’s better. Now,” he said, sitting beside you and throwing a casual arm over your shoulder, “let me make one thing clear. I’m not going anywhere. I’m stubborn like that. You’re stuck with me, darling.”

You leaned against him, letting his warmth and words sink in. For the first time that night, the weight on your chest eased, just a little.

Dan Heng stood outside your room on the Astral Express. He’d been walking by when he heard the faint sound of crying. At first, he thought it best to give you space, but his worry won out. Quietly, he knocked on the door.

“Come in.” you said, your voice weak.

Dan Heng stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you. You sat curled up on your bed, clutching a blanket tightly.

“I heard you,” he said simply, standing a short distance away. “Are you… okay?”

You shook your head, and Dan Heng took a cautious step closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated before nodding, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I’ve had to leave my friends again. I feel like I ruin everything. Like I’m the problem.”

Dan Heng was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his posture calm and unthreatening. “I don’t believe that. You care deeply about others—that much is clear to anyone who knows you. Losing people hurts, but it doesn’t mean you’re to blame.”

Tears streamed down your face. “But it keeps happening. How can it not be my fault?”

Dan Heng looked at you with quiet intensity. “Because sometimes, people grow apart. Or circumstances force things to change. It’s painful, but it’s not always within your control.” His voice softened. “You don’t have to carry all that blame alone. And you don’t have to worry about me leaving. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what.”

His words settled over you like a soothing balm, and you felt yourself relax slightly. Dan Heng reached out, his hand hovering before gently resting it on yours. “Take your time,” he said. “I’m here.”

And you believed him.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Adhd will be like “you’re not dyslexic, you just don’t read the whole word. Good luck with math you dumb fuck”

[envy-of-the-apple]

Moon Starves Sun (FULL VERSION)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Part one: Sun Eats Moon

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

(Warnings: forced relationship, implied nsfw content, implied noncon/dubcon, dark content, implied baby trapping)

When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat. 

It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you. 

He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable. 

Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that. 

"Still with me?" 

Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that. 

"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together." 

The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute. 

You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you. 

"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away. 

You look at him, eyes shimmering like water. 

You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—" 

He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in. 

"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted." 

You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it. 

The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color. 

☾

If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable. 

Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read. 

You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask. 

Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before. 

You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him. 

He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him. 

"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude. 

"C'mere, pretty girl." 

You comply, dropping your bag, making your way to the bed. When you look at him from beneath your lashes, warily expectant, Satoru feels a thrill rushing through his body. 

He's always been impatient. It's in his nature to take. He nips at your mouth, eager to taste your soul from your soft lips. Soft. Everything about you is so soft—Malleable beneath his fingers. 

Satoru didn't explicitly say what his plan was, but you aren't stupid. He can tell you know what's about to happen when you stiffen in his hold, turn to stone within his grip. He would've allowed it if you hadn't gripped onto his shirt, pulling yourself away from his feasting. 

"Satoru?" You whisper, still leaning away. "The door...?" 

Annoyed, he glances over. His room is open. It shouldn't really matter. 

"It's fine." Satoru tells you. "No one's here." No one's ever here. 

You still look panicked, hands gripping his shirt. Satoru finds that adorably pathetic. How helpless you are. How that's all because of him.

He's sure to make a big show of it. Satoru gives a dramatic sigh, slumps his shoulders, but eventually pushes himself off the mattress to push at the door. He even clicks it shut. He's too nice, sometimes. 

"Happy?" You nod, you don't look very relaxed but your shoulders have dropped a bit. 

Satoru doesn't feel too guilty pushing you down, not when you're already in his bed. He isn't known for his patience. He tastes your skin, leaving marks when he can: teeth bites. He pushes you down down down down so he can sink his teeth into your flesh.

You're asleep and under the covers by the time he's done. The moon's out too. Satoru watches it, largely unimpressed. It's so tiny, a sliver of glowing white. 

And then you shift, turning ever so slightly, enough to catch his attention. He should probably kick you out and send you home. That's what he usually does. When he gets into bed with you, draping his arms around your limp body, he convinces himself it's because he's tired and waking you up would be too much of an effort. 

He lets himself enjoy your warmth; it's nothing like the cold glow of the moon. 

☾

Sometimes, even Gojo Satoru wonders if he's dreaming. 

Sometimes, life is too perfect for him to realize it is real. Everything falls perfectly in place, fitting together like those jigsaw puzzles his caretakers used to distract him with halfheartedly. 

You're in his kitchen, chopping vegetables. 

It had already been a few weeks, but he still wasn't used to this. You, being in his home, in his kitchen, in his bed. Satoru thinks he's masking it well, but his mind is still reeling, it's a difficult adjustment. 

Not a bad one. 

It's like he's been drowning for years and he can suddenly breathe when he sees your toothbrush next to his. It's like he's been stabbed and waking up to your sleeping face is the aloe. It's like he's been suffering through a blizzard, and you cooking in his kitchen, humming a song he doesn't know, is the warm sunny day. 

Things have changed since he brought you home. His home doesn't feel incomplete anymore. As though the apartment itself has agreed that this is where you belong. There are more clothes in his closet, more shoes by the door. The space is ever so slightly less empty and it fills him with tangible relief. He can cook a meal, but it's still nice coming home to something warm already made. 

It makes Satoru wonder what things could have been like, had it not been taken away from him. 

You flinch when he wraps his hands around your waist, nestling into the space in your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come in, apparently. Regardless, you don't linger, fingers hesitating before resuming your task. He finds this part of you adorable. Ignoring the thing that makes your heart race, as though he'll just fade away into the shadows. 

It's his ego that makes him slink into your warm skin, making sure you know he isn't going anywhere. 

"Smells good," he says. 

You nod, pushing away the bell peppers in favor of the onions. Unlike him, you acclimated extremely well. It'd taken nothing to lightly push you to add more and more stuff from your apartment to his. You quietly moved from one setting to another. He remembered this trait of yours from high school. Go with the flow. 

Though, perhaps, it was less out of genuine apathy. Satoru doesn't have to say what will happen to you if you refuse him. He doesn't have to throw lectures about his family and the influence he has on you. He likes that you aren't stupidly brave. He likes that you're meeker, quieter. You pick your battles. 

But he thinks he'd like to see you crack, just one more time. 

"Hey," he says, "let's go out for dinner tomorrow night. There's this restaurant just out of town that has great shrimp cutlet." 

He expects you to nod, like you always do whenever he decides to do something impulsive and meaningless. Instead, you bite your lip. 

"I can't." You mutter after a minute of silence. "I have work. Mr. Higuruma just closed a deal and—and I think I'll be coming home later and later this week." 

Home. It's enough to make his heart flutter. It's the first time you've called the apartment that. Your words almost make him forget about the second thing you said.

Higuruma. The lawyer guy with dead eyes. Satoru remembers him. He always looked at Satoru like he was a child, too stupid to do anything. He never liked how the guy looked at you. Besides, he was way too old for you, never mind that you were taken. You were always taken.

"Oh, right." Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, fully leaning on you. "Work. What a shame." 

You nod, clearly thinking the conversation is done with. Satoru wasn't so charitable. 

"Y'know, you don't really have to work. Not anymore, pretty girl." His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he pulls you towards his chest. Your hands freeze. The knife glints in your fingers. 

"I make plenty of money. You should just stay home. That way, you don't have to work shitty hours." 

You stiffen underneath his fingertips. He's disappointed when your skin turns frigid. When he peeks over your shoulder, intent to look at your face, there's a nervous smile twitching on your lips. 

"I don't think that's a good idea..." you trail off hesitantly. 

"Hm?" He tilts his head with faux confusion. "Why not?" 

The knife moves up and down, as though you can't decide whether to place it back on the cutting board. Satoru realizes it's your way of fidgeting. 

"It...it would just be unprofessional to leave when everything is so hectic." You finally decide on. 

Satoru scoffs. "So? Who cares. I'm sure everything will work itself out. Just rely on me, pretty girl." 

You don't like the answer, but you don't make a comment on it. Satoru just watches you rotate the knife in your hands. He wonders if you want to use it on him. Slice at his neck, leave him out to bleed on the pretty tile floor. Cut straight through his heart, ending it quickly. 

Or would you like to carve out his eye and keep it as a souvenir? He thinks he'd happily let you. It sounds romantic.

You don't do anything. Instead, you pull back your shoulders as if you're physically ready for war. 

"'Toru," you say gently, softly, and it works in his eyes, "I...can't let you support me like this. It's not right. It's not like we're married or anything." You laugh, like it's a joke. Satoru doesn't cave. 

"I mean, not yet." Satoru rocks you back and forth in his hold. "But gimme' some time to shop for a ring, okay? It needs to be perfect for my perfect girl." 

You follow his movements. He can see your mouth twitch out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes get glassy. 

He knows he's terrible, but he really wants you to crack. 

"You're right, Satoru." You say, "I'll put in my two weeks tomorrow." He grins in delight. 

"That's a great idea, baby." Satoru kisses you on the cheek.

Right, you pick your battles. 

☾

Satoru tells you he loves you, and you're gone, not even three days later. 

He breaks and shatters into pieces he'll never be able to put back. Each day without you is torture. He feels like a corpse, just going through the motions. His clothes feel looser. His skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees someone he barely even recognizes. 

It's like you left with his heart. 

No, you ran away with his soul. 

One day, you were Satoru's, safely tucked underneath his arm...the next, you just weren't. 

His parents don't acknowledge it beyond casual disgust. Every time Suguru talks to him, Satoru can barely comprehend it. Days pass by. Everything reminds him of you. His bed feels emptier; he hates it when he reaches out to the space you used to take up and finds it cold. Your locker remains untouched. Nothing is ever the same. 

Satoru tries looking for you, but you're untraceable. No social media, no friends left to tell where you went, not even your fucking parents know where you are. 

You left him. 

You left him to rot. 

Denial comes first. It can't be. You wouldn't. You wouldn't fucking dare. Anger seeps in the next. For weeks, Satoru can only imagine what he'll do when he finds you. He'll break your legs this time. He'll squeeze your neck so hard that your head pops. He'll kill you over and over again until your corpse is begging to be forgiven. And he won't ever stop, because you're Satoru's. 

That doesn't stay for long. He feels himself get weaker day by day. Food tastes like dirt on his tongue. Any of his earlier vices are gone. 

He misses you. 

Why wouldn't he? You were his everything. 

Like all things, it passes. You aren't there to fuel the flames, so the fire wanes in his chest. The ache in his heart gets smaller and smaller. Things keep him busy. College. Then, his new position in the office. 

Ten years pass. He’s forgotten what you look like. But he remembers parts. Every so often, he sees a flicker of you within someone else. Your eyes are on another woman’s face. Your lips on a girl's smile. It irritates him to no end. It’s even worse when he starts seeking them out, keeping those parts of them for just the night. 

Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can still hear your voice—what he thinks is your voice—soft, needy Toru Toru Toru. 

“Gojo, sir?” 

He blinks. Ijichi stands in front of him. Satoru looks down at the meticulously crafted pages. 

“Mr. Higuruma needed you to sign this,” Ijichi lifts a paper filled with bureaucratic bullshit he pays other people to understand.

Why did Suguru take off now? 

“Sure sure,” Satoru says, “I’ll get it done.” 

Ijichi shifts nervously. “Well, it’d be best to finish it right now, Sir. His paralegal is just about to leave the building.” 

Oh, right. The lawyer’s assistant. Gojo could never get a good look at that person, but the assistant resembled a shaking deer to him at most times. He’s not even sure if they’ve ever talked to each other, but he always found the other a bit odd. Big eyes. A shaky expression. 

It was a little annoying to look at. 

☾

Some executive was throwing an office gala, and since he is Gojo Satoru, he needed to come along. 

And since you are Satoru's, you're dragged along too. 

Honestly, the only upside to this is you and that new dress he bought you. A velvet turquoise dress that he can't take his eyes off of. The gold jewelry draped across your neck makes you even more delectable. But his favorite part of the outfit is the shimmering diamond ring. 

The ceremony hadn't been anything extravagant. He'd just booked out one of his favorite restaurants, ordering lobster and sweet wine. He remembered hearing his heartbeat when he bent down on one knee, opening the elegant ringbox, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Looking back, he didn't know why he was so nervous: it's not like you'd say no. 

"What do you think of it?" He asked when you were back in his bed, bare from everything except that glistening ring. 

"It's pretty." You spoke, perfectly nestled in his chest. 

He feels in his heart when he hugs you, a small kiss in your hair. You say something, but he can't hear it; he is too preoccupied with feeling you in his arms. It's still so new, even after all these weeks. It's the anxiety, knowing at any second you could leave and he'd be nothing. He won't allow that, he can't. 

"I thought about something else, y'know?" He speaks quietly in your hair. "Ropes, chains, maybe. I could keep you here, forever. But—but then I realized how sad you'd get. I couldn't go through with it." 

You give no reaction. When he tilts your chin up to get a better look at you, your eyes are glassy. 

"You get that, right?" 

You nod. He's really too nice, sometimes. 

He spends the entire evening with you, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes. Just because he has to be there doesn't mean he has to be sociable. Every time someone walks up to him and you, a drink in one hand, he resists the urge to bite their head off, feigning politeness. He complains about their lack of decorum to you multiple times throughout the night, his head resting on your shoulder. You pliantly sit there, listening and nodding. 

About ten minutes after the last board member left, someone else walks up. By then, Satoru's patience has mostly declined. He peers over with disdain before he can really process who he's seeing. 

"Suguru!" He waves over. 

You stiffen, and Satoru remembers you haven't seen him in ten years. 

Suguru walks over with an easy smile on his face. He's nicely tanned, and Satoru is reminded of the pictures he sent over of the Maldives. Maybe that's where the honeymoon should be. 

"Had fun slacking?" Satoru asks with a grin; Suguru shrugs. 

When his eyes meet yours, he feigns delighted surprise. Suguru speaks your name with practiced shock. It's imperfect, only Satoru can see the amusement dripping from his fangs. 

"Long time, no see!" Effortlessly, Suguru corrals you into a hug. You follow, giving into the cold touch of affection before pulling away back to him. 

"Hello, Geto." You say when you're rightfully by his side again. "It's nice to see you again." 

Suguru laughs, light and airy. "You as well!" He looks at your hands, tilts his head. "Oh? Congratulations, you two! When's the date?" 

"Eh, we'll figure that out later." Satoru gives a quick kiss on your cheek. "Everything happened so fast, y'know? Us reuniting and everything: It feels like fate." Suguru's eyes flash. "Let's not rush this. We'll take our time." 

Suguru nods along thoughtfully. He's looking right at you, and you stare right back. Not used to feeling left out, Satoru is quick to intervene. 

The conversation is light, two long-time friends reuniting after a long spell. You stay quiet like decor, settling into Satoru's side. Suguru doesn't acknowledge you after that. 

"We gotta' go. It's getting late." He eventually says, tugging you along. 

Suguru gives a pleasant smile. "Of course, of course. We should catch up sometime." He directs this at you. You give a strained smile before Satoru leads you off. 

"Suguru." The man turns. Satoru grins. 

"I loved my gift. Thanks, man." 

Suguru's smile is catlike. 

"You kids have fun." He calls out right when Satoru's dragging you away all over again. 

You're silent. Not in the way you usually are, pliant and cute. You're thinking. He gives you a nudge. 

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?" 

You shake your head. "Nothing." And then you say, "He's changed." 

From your view, Satoru supposed that's true, but really—

"Nah." Gojo shakes his head. "He's just dropped his act." 

Satoru's hand was wrapped around your waist when you two ran into him. You hadn't noticed him yet, eyes fixed on the floor. The lawyer hadn't changed since the last time Satoru saw him. That dead expression, those creepy eyes. Higuruma's eyes flit over your figure, before he finds Satoru's. 

He stares. Satoru stares right back. Something gives, and the lawyer calls out your name. 

"How are you?" His tone is cool, and this is another reason why Satoru can't stand him. The guy has no tells. He's just a talking robot. 

Unlike you, fidgeting by his side, practically vibrating with nerves. 

"I'm fine, sir." Your smile gets more painful to look at by the second. 

Your voice earns you a tired smile, a mild pinch of humor. Higuruma shakes his head, waving you off. 

"No need for formalities. We aren't at work." His smile drops just a bit, as he watches you for a bit more, eyes flickering to your hand. "I was...surprised when I saw the announcement. I didn't know you and Mr. Gojo were involved." 

Satoru grins, making himself known like a shark in the water. His grip on you tightens. 

"Oh, you didn't tell your boss 'bout us, baby?" He looks down at you with cruel mirth, pinching your cheek. You wilt. "We go way back—highschool��sweethearts. Lost contact for a couple years. It's actually thanks to you we were able to find each other again. We'll send you the invites." He presses a kiss to your hairline. 

Higuruma hums at that. Satoru expected jealousy in his eyes; he's even more upset when he finds none. 

"I'll be sure to save the date." 

Then he shuts Satoru down completely. 

"I heard about your resignation. It's sad to see you go," Higuruma says. 

You nod, but you don't look at him. "Satoru and I talked about it, and we decided it's best if I focused on other things." 

"Very, very busy, this one nowadays." Satoru interrupts. "Between wedding plannin' and all that."

"Is that so?" Higuruma says dismissively, "in any case, you already knew this, but I've begun preparations to start a new firm." He reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card. "I always thought you were good at what you do. If you ever want to get back into the industry, call me." 

You take the laminate slip with a quiet thank you. Satoru feels blue turn into red. 

When Higuruma slips into the party, Satoru tightens his grip on you a little harsher than necessary. He's dragging you through the halls. Behind him, he can hear you stumbling over your heels, begging him to slow down. He knows he should care, but he doesn't. That damn lawyer. Those dead eyes. Mocking him. 

"Did you fuck him?" He asks when his anger has reached a high enough peak that he presses you against the wall. 

Your eyes are wild, flitting back and forth. He'd your expression a little cute if he wasn't feeling like a furnace, at the moment. 

"No. I—we never." You say. "Mr. Higuruma was my boss. And—and he's married—" 

"Really? 'cause you're precious 'Mr. Higuruma' was eyeing you up and down like he's already seen what's underneath." 

"'Toru." You plead. "Let's—let's just talk about this at home. Please? Let's just go home." Home. You said that word again. If he were a better man, he'd melt, but he's not. 

"Shut up." He spits out. "Hike up your dress." 

You stare at him. Then, you try to smile, like he's making a shitty joke. It wavers on your lips. 

"It's...we're still in public." You whisper and it's so cute you think he'd actually care about that. "We—we can't...we shouldn't—" 

"Baby." His voice drops, as he licks at your neck. "Pull up your dress, get rid of those panties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna take it off myself." 

He doesn't need to explain anything further. You already get what he's saying. Right now, Satoru doesn't care if you leave this building with your clothes intact. 

He thinks the worst part is that he knows he's being unreasonable. He's backing you into a corner where you'll have no choice but to surrender, and he knows that, but he keeps thinking about those man's eyes and how he looked at you and it was just all so much. 

He'll apologize to you later, with flowers and shiny gold earrings. He'd give you the world; just be good for him now. 

He just needs his fix. So just be good for him now.

☾

When Satoru discovers it's been you all along, he feels like an idiot. 

In a pathetic way of defending himself, he convinces himself there's no way he could have recognized you. You're so different compared to your high-school self. 18-years old, fresh-eyed, naive. The you now is all grown up: a mature voice, a new hairstyle, clothes he'd never even think you'd wear. 

It also didn't help that he couldn't even see your face since you turned away every time he looked at you. 

Embarrassing. He's just glad Suguru wasn't here to call his blunder. 

He thought about it a lot. He spent an hour in his office, pacing around, doing nothing but thinking and thinking and thinking. Part of him wants to corner you already. He can already feel your rabbit heartbeat on his fingertips, the look you always had in your eyes when he was right in front of you. Part of him wants to ruin your life the same way you ruined his. He wants to tear you apart, piece by piece. Leave you in tattered pieces. 

But he can't do that. Satoru still loves you. 

You left him a hollow shell. Broken. Tainted. There are pieces of him he still can't find. He should hurt you. He's hurt other people for doing less. But they weren't you. Even after all those years, he's never quite stopped loving you. 

But he wants to sate his bloodlust, just a tiny bit. 

His perfect opportunity comes where he, the lawyer, and you are all sitting in one of the waiting rooms. The lawyers explaining something, possibly about the ongoing case. Satoru doesn't really care. Besides, this is what Ijichi's here for. 

He waits until everyone is quiet. You're unassuming. By then, your shoulders have lowered, like you think you've gotten away with it 

"Hey," he says, "do we know each other?" 

The other two don't bother, but you stop completely. The pen in your grip shakes. Satoru resists the urge to laugh. 

You timidly glance up like you're still delusional enough to think there's a fifth person he's talking to. Satoru has always been told his eyes are like two suns: bright and intense. He lowers his glasses. You wilt under the solar flares. 

"Hm?" He prods, enjoying the way you shrivel. "Have we?" 

You swallow, glassy eyes flicking from side to side. Finally, you clear your throat. 

"No." You mutter, voice barely a whisper. "I don't think we have." 

"Are you sure?" To intensify the magnifying glass, he leans closer, like he's examining you. "'cause you look really familiar." 

To his delight, you chew on your bottom lip. He can imagine biting it until it's bloody and raw. He stops just when you're about to shatter completely. Breaking you too soon would take the fun out of it. 

"Oh, wait. I don't think that was you." He relents, pulling back and he can see the relief ooze over your face. "I think I got you mixed up with someone who interviewed here a couple months ago. My bad. Maybe you have one of those faces." 

You nod, eager to take the out. 

"Yes," you quickly say, "one of those faces." 

How adorable. You haven't changed since high school. 

He's usually not this obvious, but Suguru isn't here to berate him about it and it's not like anyone else will get on his ass. The women he brings in are his usuals: tall models with full lips and perfect bodies. Satoru parades them around like expensive jewelry. He wants to see you seethe in envy, stew in it. He wants you to see what you abandoned. 

But you don't do any of that. You just sit there, like the dutiful little workbee you are, right by your boss's side.

And then, you give one of them your jacket. Satoru can't stand it wrapped around her waist like she fucking owns it—own you. She wears it so flagrantly, like any token from you shouldn't be worshipped and coveted. He hates it. He hates it. 

"I've never done this in an office before." She squeals when she shuts the door behind her. "So, how do you—" 

"Get out." 

The girl pauses. What was her name again? Satou was too pissed to give a single shit. 

"Um, what?" 

"What, you deaf or something?" He waves her off as if he weren't seething. "Get out." 

"Oh," she says, blinks, and then she takes a step back. 

"Wait." Satoru stops her. 

"Take that off." He points to your jacket. She does it with zero complaints. When he tells her to drop it on the chair, she follows that too. Reluctant expectation. Kind of like you. Maybe that's why he was initially invested in her. 

He only takes the fabric after she's gone. It's soft underneath his fingertips. Nothing designer, but good quality. When you're finally underneath him again, he'll buy you better clothes, all the jackets you want. 

He needs you. He can't wait anymore. 

He needs you, whether you want him or not. 

☾

Satoru wakes up to something crashing. 

It's faint, obviously coming from the bathroom. Not the best way to be woken up. He remembers the first few nights he brought you home. He'd hear you crying in your sleep, choking on tiny sobs. It was the sweetest little thing, like a whimpering puppy. 

These noises are a little more concerning. 

He yawns, sliding out of bed. You didn't bother locking the door. You didn't even close it all the way, either. A sliver of light comes from the crack before he pushes it open. 

"Baby?" He calls. You don't answer. 

You had knocked over a caddy. Toothbrushes, hairclips, soap dispensers, perfume bottles were scattered all over the floor. You're curled up in the corner of the bathroom, huddled right next to the tub. You seem physically okay, no blood, no bruising, but he can't see your face. And you're shivering. 

Satoru's about to call out to you, when he steps on something. He looks down at the tiles. 

A positive pregnancy test. 

"I'm not keeping it." Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying for hours. "I'm not keeping it." 

"Pretty girl." He coos, trying his best to keep the glee out of his voice and failing. "Let's not worry 'bout that, right now. C'mon, let's get you off the floor." He reaches for your hand. You smack it away. It stung. 

When you look at him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with angry tears, Satoru's heart skips a beat. He feels like he just trapped a wild animal, making it pace in a corner. Any wrong move could result in his hand getting bit off. It's scary. 

He's finally cracked you. 

"Fuck you." Your voice shakes and wobbles, but it's loud and you're clear. "Fuck you. You're a sick, twisted man-child. You ruined everything. You ruined my entire life and—and now you—" 

You're cut off by his giggling. It sounds psychotic even to his ears. He's beyond caring. You flinch when lifts your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes. He's smiling so hard it hurts. 

"Yeah, I did that. I ruined you. I ruined your entire fucking life. For me." He stresses, squeezing your face so hard you try to pull away. "But I had to. You—you wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighs, pressing your body to his. "I need you."

You're both huddled on the bathroom floor, captive and lover. He's clutching you to his chest, smiling, nestling his face in your hair. You don't say anything for a while. 

"I'm not keeping it." You whisper. "I'm not. I wouldn't stand it if it ended up like you." 

It's spiteful. You're still in that phase where you think your venom can hurt him, as though he'd see your blows as anything but blessings. Satoru thinks to his own childhood. Where he was given everything, lathered in gold and silver. Yet, the house was always cold. But you were always so warm. 

"That won't happen." He tells you. "'cause you're here." 

Your anger has dwindled to smoke. Maybe you've finally realized how crazy he was for you. 

"Please let me go." It's not a beg. It's not even a request. 

"I can't," he honestly says. 

"You won't." You correct him. 

He smiles in your hair. 

"No baby," he says, "I can't." 

If you ran away again, if you escaped his claws, he'd probably die. Drop dead, rot on the floor. He needs you. Even more than he needs food, water, and oxygen. You won't understand that. You've never been in love before. 

You don't fight him. If anything, you sink into his hold. He's there to catch you, heart soaring. You lean into his chest 

"I hate you." You whisper. His heart beats a little faster. It's probably the first time you've ever been so honest with him. 

God, he loves you. 

"I hope our baby has your eyes," he says. 

"I hope our baby looks exactly like you." 

You say nothing, but when he leans down to kiss you, you finally kiss back. You're cracked, and your essence is ready to be molded in his image, just like he's always wanted you to be. 

If Satoru is the Sun, then you must certainly be his universe, the plane in which he rests, because there would be no existence for him if not for you. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

heyy, I just saw the first episode of season two and I’m completely destroyed. I need to read something with Jacaerys in which reader gives him a hug after what happened 🫶🏻

Request: Helloooo! I saw you were open to requests sooo with this episode- how about instead of Baela being the one to take Jace to Rheanyra, its reader who had been waiting for him since he landed? Jace x reader relationship is up to you!

I have written this a few weeks ago, but let's do a small blurb. Seeing Jace break was just so sad. Grab your tissues 🤧

Warnings: mention of character death, grief

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

On the journey back to Dragonstone, Jacaerys swallowed back his tears. Vermax could feel that his rider was in pain, but he stayed focused on flying home. 

Although you couldn’t predict when they would arrive, you knew Jacaerys would fly home immediately upon receiving the letter. 

You greeted him outside when he landed, but Jacaerys refused to meet your eyes, focussing on princely duties because he could not bear to face his role as brother and son in that moment. He spoke like a prince, asking to be taken to the Queen so he could give her his report. 

Without speaking a word, you walked him to Rhaenyra’s chambers. The guards opened the door for you, nodding their heads at the prince. As you stepped inside, Rhaenyra turned at the sound of your footsteps on the stone floor. 

You bowed to the Queen, casting a last glance on Jacaerys before you left the room. ‘’You know where to find me,’’ you whispered to him, your voice barely audible. 

He didn’t respond. 

While he spoke to his mother about the Vale and the North, Jacaerys was trying to remain professional and keep his composure. He needed to stay strong for her. His voice was steady until he mentioned the North. The name of Cregan Stark brought back the images of the northman delivering the news of Lucerys’s death, causing Jacaerys to choke up on his words.

Rhaenyra held her eldest and they cried together. 

When he thought the tears were over, Jacaerys left his mother’s chambers. Servants were politely nodding their head at him on his way to his own chambers, a veil of sympathy on their faces. But Jacaerys paid them no attention as his emotions were threatening to spill again. 

As promised, you were sitting on his — your — chambers when he stepped in, waiting for him. You stood when hearing the door, and he broke down completely, his body shaking with sobs as he collapsed into your arms. 

You held Jacaerys tightly as he sobbed uncontrollably, his grief pouring out with each shuddering breath. 

You always knew him as the strong son of Princess Rhaenyra who held his head high and never let anything affect him. The strength he usually exuded was gone, replaced by the vulnerability of a boy who had lost his brother. It was gut-wrenching to see him cry, his hands clutching at your dress to anchor himself through the storm of his emotions.

‘’He died because of me,’’ he whispered between sobs, his voice raw with pain. ‘’It was my idea to go on dragonback instead of sending ravens.’’ 

Guilt laced his voice, and you pulled his head back, seeing his eyes red and swollen. You knew no words would stop his guilt. He would have to live with his for the rest of his life. But you could try to show him he was not entirely at fault. It was Vhagar at the commands of Aemond targaryen who killed Lucerys. Not him.

‘’Mayhaps it was your idea, but you couldn’t have known Aemond would be at Storm’s End asking for support from Borros Baratheon. He is the one responsible for this barbarous act,’’ you said, holding his gaze.

—

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[bookyeom]

whatever you say, bro - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."

Read Part Two here!

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?

Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen. 

Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro

You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.

Bro.

It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.

Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny. 

Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro. 

You close your eyes with a sigh. 

"Thumb war."

"What?"

You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.

"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie." 

Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on." 

As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.

You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too. 

“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned. 

You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.

"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.  

"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little. 

"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you." 

The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.

Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."

Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.

But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.” 

For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier. 

As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”

Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote. 

“What did you say?”

“I said you’re annoying.”

You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best. 

“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line. 

It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.

"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much. 

"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –

Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.

When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”

Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”

“You kissed me.”

Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”

Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin

[blkkizzat]

ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎

Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader

18+ Minors - DNI

Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.

A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.

Enjoy!

Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 

He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 

Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 

Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 

Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 

Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 

Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.

But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 

Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?

At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.

It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 

More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.

Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.

You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 

ꨄ

When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 

Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 

Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.

Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.

You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.

You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.

You stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 

No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!

But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 

“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 

Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.

A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.

“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 

You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.

“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.

You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.

You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.

It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 

Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.

Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.

Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 

You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.

Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 

“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.

"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”

You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 

But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 

Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.

Was he also into this?

The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.

Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.

“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”

He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 

“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.

“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 

“Lost your words, Y/N?”

Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.

“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”

Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.

“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”

You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.

He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.

Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.

Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 

“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”

You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.

“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.

“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”

His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.

“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”

You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.

The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 

“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 

Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.

To your relief there was no one in sight.

Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 

Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.

Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 

“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 

Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.

ꨄ 

“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 

You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.

You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 

Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 

Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.

Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  

The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 

“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”

You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.

“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”

If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 

His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.

“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”

“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”

The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.

“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 

You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.

“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 

There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 

You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.

“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”

“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”

You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 

“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 

The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 

“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”

He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.

You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 

“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”

Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.

His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.

You were so close to release.

“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.

“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”

Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.

You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.

“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”

You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.

Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.

The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 

Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.

The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.

Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.

“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”

"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.

You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.

But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 

“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.

Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 

You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.

"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."

The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 

Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 

“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.

“Warm bath, yeah?”

“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”

You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 

You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.

Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.

You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!

You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 

However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 

Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.

“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”

Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 

You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 

Could there ever be too much of a good thing?

You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.

“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.

”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”

However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.

You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.

Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.

This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎

Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: me posting twice in the same month?? someone do a welfare check

warning: age gap mentioned (bc I’m a slut) but not extensively or in a weird way bc Spencer’s not a pervert lol

Moth To A Flame

Closing the bathroom door with your own back, you slide down it until you’re sitting on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and taking a shaky breath. You shouldn’t call him while crying, you know better than that, but you know your own tells enough to hope you can mask them; a futile effort considering who you intend to call at 3am.

Lifting your phone to your ear, you hear it ring no more than twice before your prayers are answered, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Spencer.” You greet him quietly, smiling from just saying his name.

“Hi, sunshine. How are you?” Spencer’s voice is calm and collected, but it’s clear through the phone he’s delighted to hear from you.

There’s no question raised regarding the time at which you’re calling. But no matter how many times this happens, Spencer always enquires after your wellbeing.

“I’m okay, thank you. Just…you know. How are you?” The question is returned, though neither of you are a fan of small talk.

“Yes,” Spencer responds specifically to the insinuation he knows, because he does. Then, he continues, “-I’m well, too, thank you.”

His words, and what goes left unsaid, makes your smile grow.

“What’re you reading?” You ask, and the quiet chuckle you hear from Spencer is enough to prove you right in your assumption of his reason for being awake at this hour.

“Pride And Prejudice. How did you know I was reading?” He wonders aloud with a fondness in his voice that he reserves only for you.

“When aren’t you reading?” You roll your eyes playfully, and Spencer can practically hear it.

“When I’m sleeping.” He quips, his own smile evident in his voice.

It’s enough to have you laughing softly into the phone, which only serves to make Spencer’s smile grow.

“Read me some?” You request quietly.

Like you ever need to ask.

Spencer clears his throat into the phone.

“After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began, ‘In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately followed. He spoke well, but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness…” Spencer reads aloud, and the smile on your face is almost as soft as his voice sounds through the phone.

By the end of the chapter, your eyes have drifted closed and your head is tipped back against the bathroom door behind you. Hearing how calm your breathing has become, Spencer pauses, and you hear him close the book.

“See you in the morning?” He always asks because on the rare chance you’ll say no, at least he has time to mentally prepare for your absence. Tonight is not the night for that.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow…Thank you.” You reply, already feeling close to sleep.

This stumps Spencer momentarily, and he falters before he replies, “For what?”

And there’s only one thing you can say to that.

“Being you.”

Spencer chuckles sheepishly, “I don’t know how to be anyone else.”

Of course he doesn’t. Perhaps, if he was anyone else, you’d stand a chance.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” You tell him gently.

“Goodnight, sunshine.” There’s a second of warm silence as you savor the sound of each other’s quiet breathing, and then you both hang up the call.

Standing up from where you’d been sitting on the bathroom floor, you take another deep breath before reaching for the door handle. Walking through a house that isn’t yours, into a living room where the sound of snoring from the couch makes you want to tear your hair out, past a kitchen where a cheap measly pile of four red roses lie limp on the counter with a post-it note in place of any kind of meaningful card, up the staircase where framed photographs filled with eyes that aren’t on your side stare down at you judgmentally, until you’re safely confined in the bedroom you feel doomed to. Crawling into your side of the bed, you adjust the pillows that occupy the other side, filling the space in a shape long enough to resemble the shape of someone under your bedcovers. And with Spencer’s voice still in your ears wishing you a good night, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Spencer adjusts his alarm clock to wake him an hour earlier than necessary, and awakens from a peaceful slumber with a determined mission in mind. Once his normal morning routine is complete, instead of driving to the office, he drives to his preferred florist, who greets him with a knowing smile when Spencer walks in.

“Another dozen?” The florist guesses.

“Please.” Spencer nods, smiling politely.

Retrieving his wallet from his back pocket, Spencer pays for the flowers and graciously thanks the florist, taking the flowers and then leaving the establishment to return to his car. He drives back home, placing the dozen flowers in a glass vase that he keeps pristine for this very purpose, with the perfect level of water for optimal growth for this specific species of flower. Very carefully, Spencer inspects them until he determines which has the prettiest bloom today, and that is the one he elects to remove from the vase, carefully securing its stem in seran wrap and placing it in the pocket of his suit jacket, then continuing on his normal journey into work.

Purposely, Spencer arrives earlier than the rest of the team, so that he can execute his plan without interruptions. From the staff kitchen, he chooses the most elegant looking glass he can find and again pours the perfect level of water - this time for just one flower, specifically - unwrapping the single bloom in his suit jacket and setting in the glass. He then walks to your desk and positions it in an aesthetically pleasing location, but already knows it is not enough. The picture is not complete. It must be perfect for you. Briefly visiting his own desk, Spencer opens the drawer to take a piece of his own parchment paper, from which he cuts a small section that he then folds in half. On what appears to be the front of the folded piece, he maps out a constellation in a dot-to-dot sketch, then inside the fold of paper, he writes the story behind it. After several attempts, Spencer finds the perfect angle at which to place the folded piece of paper next to the flower on the desk, and only then does he return to his usual morning routine of making himself a coffee in the staff kitchen. Counting down the minutes.

By the time you get to the office, you’ve pushed the thoughts of your home from your mind and have a bright smile on your face, looking forward to a day spent working with your friends and not thinking about-

“(Y/N)! I just saw! He got you roses! That’s SO cute! You have, like, the best boyfriend!” Penelope squeals as she runs up to you the very second you walk through the glass doors of the bullpen.

Your heart sinks and your eyebrows furrow.

“You saw?”

Penelope nods excitedly, gesturing to her phone, where she shows you the post your boyfriend had made on social media: a picture he had taken of the four red roses he’d bought you that he filtered to high heaven to make them look more grand than they were, with a caption that said ‘happy four and many more, babe x’. If it weren’t for the sake of keeping your business private - something he clearly cares for about as much as he does you - you’d scoff.

“Oh, yeah. Must’ve missed that he posted that.” You plaster a smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, walking side by side with Penelope towards your desk.

“It was your four year anniversary, right? Did you do anything fancy?” She’s giddy on your behalf.

“No, just had a quiet night in.” You provide an excuse, the most generous blanket statement you could have given to the shambles that were your boyfriend’s anniversary plans.

Your dejectedness, however, is abruptly cut short when your gaze lands on your desk. A single bloom of your favorite flower, with a neatly folded handwritten note of a constellation placed next to it. In a microsecond, you’re turning to where Spencer sits at his desk, hiding his smirk behind his cup of coffee.

“You didn’t!” You feign chastisement, but your giddiness is obvious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer shrugs, his smile as obvious as yours is.

You’re practically bouncing on the spot when you bring the little glass and the delicate flower within to your face to breathe in the sweet scent.

“These aren’t even in season anymore, Spencer, how did you-“

The question is cut short by a magician who never reveals his secrets.

“I played no part in this, but perhaps someone happens to know somebody else who is equipped to grow them on request.” There’s a teasing lilt to his otherwise matter-of-fact tone, and you are shaking your head in absolute disbelief.

Setting the glass back down on your desk, you pick up the constellation, admiring it carefully before folding it and placing it in your desk drawer, in amongst another 30-something hand drawn constellations. The smile is still lingering on your face when you sit down at your desk, and from where Spencer sits at his, his chest feels warm. So much joy from you at the cost of only an hour’s less sleep and a few more dollars than the asking price of your favorite flowers. Perhaps, tonight you won’t call him trying to hide that you’d been crying again, he hopes. Whether that comes to fruition or not, he has another eleven blooms waiting in his apartment to gift you at random intervals to surprise you and keep your tears at bay for as long as he can, without you ever telling him there was a chance of them falling. He knows.

For the rest of the day, Spencer catches you glancing at the flower on your desk while you work through various reports and paperwork, an almost shy smile lighting up your face every time you see it there.

It’s only when the team begins packing up for the day that Spencer thinks to look into what Penelope had referenced that morning- a post of some kind? Easily enough, Spencer finds your boyfriend’s social media on his computer, and what he discovers makes him borderline violent. Four years together, encompassed by four measly roses and what you called a ‘quiet night in’ that was so beyond underwhelming you ended your evening by calling Spencer from your bathroom. A celebration of that scale warranted only four red roses, while the mere hint you’d been crying was enough for Spencer to visit the florist he pays specifically to keep growing your favorite flowers for you, to buy another dozen that he intends to deliver to you one by one at irregular intervals. Still, it isn’t Spencer’s job to compensate for what is clearly absent from your relationship; at least, not consciously.

“Babe!” A voice calls out that has Spencer using every ounce of strength he possesses to withhold from rolling his eyes. Shutting down his computer, he stands from his desk just in time to see your expression fall where you pack away your things at your own desk.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” You ask shortly.

Excellent question, Spencer thinks.

“Just came to surprise you and drive you home!” Your boyfriend exclaims like it’s some kind of achievement, opening his arms in a big gesture as he approaches your desk.

How considerate, ambushing you at your workplace under the guise of it being a nice surprise, Spencer scoffs internally, deliberately slowing the pace at which he readies his satchel to leave the office.

“Oh. Thanks.” You don’t know what else to say. “I’ll be ready in a second.” You add, feeling like you’re defaulting to basic lines of dialogue to avoid awkward silences.

“Great!” Your boyfriend exclaims, looking around the bullpen like he’s never seen the place before - he has, twice, and Spencer wishes his eidetic memory would allow him to erase the memory of your discomfort during both instances - until his eyes land on a face he recognises, and he grins.

“Spencer! My man!” Your boyfriend yells, and your eyes widen as you watch him walk right over to Spencer and pull him into a bro-hug that immediately has Spencer rigidly uncomfortable.

“I’ve told you-“ You implore, shooting Spencer an apologetic and pleading look before your boyfriend starts talking over you.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, man, forgot you’re weird about touching people.” He laughs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

You scowl, parting your lips to bite his head off, but Spencer steps in to prevent you from saying something that’ll only cause more arguments for you when you go home.

“I have an acute awareness and disliking towards unfamiliar germs and contact.” Spencer corrects your boyfriend firmly, aware that only you and him realize what he means by a germ in this context.

“Yeah, man, no worries.” Your boyfriend laughs, like he’s the funniest man in the world to himself. “Ready to go, babe?” He asks you.

“Mhmm.” Another tight-lipped smile, and that’s apparently convincing enough for your boyfriend, who wraps an arm around your waist in a careless action rather than something that should be treasured, and would be treasured by the man you look over your shoulder to give one last apologetic expression to.

That is, until Emily steps out of her office and calls over to you, “Don’t forget about Rossi’s party!”

And you literally wince.

“A party?! Oh man! Can’t wait! Thanks, Emmers!” Your boyfriend answers for you, regarding a party you had deliberately neglected to mention to him, and then he’s all but dragging you out of the office.

Once out of earshot, Spencer actually does scoff.

“Emmers?” Emily asks him with a frown from where she stands on the raised walkway, leaning on the railing.

“A shocking breach of social etiquette to assume a nickname for someone he barely knows.” Spencer clarifies, to which Emily nods.

“You still not coming to Rossi’s tonight?” She elects to ask him, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

Spencer sighs heavily. He looks down at his desk, then lifts his head to look over at the elevator doors closing, snatching the view of you away. He knows what will happen tonight. He knows.

The mirror stares back at him. If someone told Spencer a year ago that he’d be attending a work related get together he’d initially rejected the invitation of but went back on himself solely in the hopes that his suit of choice would impress a coworker just over half his age who has a boyfriend, Spencer would have walked right out of prison and requested a psych eval. Still, the thought at the forefront of his mind is that 6 months and 8 days ago he had worn an all-black suit on a case that you had complimented. It is a foolish dream to think you would compliment him for it again, but for you, Doctor Spencer Reid is a proud fool.

Much to your own embarrassment, you and your boyfriend knock at Rossi’s door an hour late, and based on your expression it is not difficult for Spencer to deduce it’s not your fault. Or, it wouldn’t have been difficult if his brain hadn’t short-circuited at the sight of you wearing a thin strapped, floor length purple silk dress that hugged your every curve to the extent that when Spencer rose from his seat in a gentlemanly gesture at your entrance, his knees very nearly buckled beneath him to a position of worship. Your boyfriend’s arm is careless around your waist again, and he drops it not to pull your chair out for you at the table, but to bro-hug David Rossi, who looks at him like he spat in his bowl of pasta. In your disgruntled state, it takes you a second to acknowledge that Spencer is standing, and in between greeting the rest of the team, your eyes continually flit back to him, his heart skipping a beat each and every time in a way that only further convinces him he is in the midst of a medical emergency. Finally, your gaze lingers on him, and he doesn’t waste the opportunity.

“Can I get you a drink? Rossi’s minibar has some of your favorites.” Spencer gestures with the hand not holding his own drink, and without so much as looking to your plus one, you nod and walk around the table.

His large hand ghosts the small of your back, fingers flexing, but he doesn’t allow himself to make contact until he counts the microseconds to cross the distance that takes you both away from every other pair of eyes in this house. The heat of Spencer’s fingertips meet the purple silk of your dress, barely there, but oh, do you feel it.

Once safely standing at the minibar, Spencer only needs to watch your face to see which bottle your eyes light up at, and as soon as he notices, he pours you a glass without you having to ask. In a gesture that feels like a secret, the two of you clink your glasses together and lock eyes to take a simultaneous sip.

“Nice suit.” You nod at Spencer, a shy smile forming behind your glass.

“Thank you.” He tries not to choke on his drink, then nods back at you. “Pretty dress.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent your smile from growing any bigger.

“Thank you. The color reminded me of your scarf.” You remark quietly, and if you weren’t a profiler, you probably wouldn’t notice the almost imperceptible widening of Spencer’s eyes at your words.

“It is a similar shade.” He agrees, his heart in his throat.

Comfortable silence settles between you. Eyes locked, nursing your drinks, your free hands hanging idly at your sides. Standing just a little too close. Fingers almost touching.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” You say eventually.

Spencer shakes his head dismissively. “I appreciate it, but his oversights aren’t your responsibility.” Or your burden, he so badly wants to add.

You sigh. “If he overstepped the boundaries of a guy who was less of a man than you, he could’ve got his face caved in.”

And what a shame that would have been, Spencer muses in his own mind.

“I didn’t escalate the situation, but not because I’m a man- because it wasn’t a worthy cause.” He amends.

“So if there was a worthy cause, you’d have clocked him?” You giggle at the idea.

“Possibly.” Definitely, Spencer smirks.

“What constitutes a worthy cause in the mind of Doctor Spencer Reid?” You tease, tilting your head to look up at him with a curious twinkle in your eyes.

“If he made you cry.” Spencer chooses his words very carefully, and inspects every micro expression on your face in response.

Because your boyfriend has made you cry, you know that, and you know Spencer knows too, despite the fact you haven’t ever stated as such. He knows. All you’d have to do is say the word, and Spencer would walk right back into the dining room, grab your boyfriend by his collar in front of the entire team, drag him outside and beat him to a pulp in the street.

If Spencer wasn’t a profiler, he probably wouldn’t notice the almost imperceptible widening of your eyes at his words.

“Babe! There you are! Rossi’s served us up a couple plates of something with a name I can’t pronounce- Spencer! Hey, man!” Your boyfriend’s agitating, grating voice cuts into the peaceful bubble you and Spencer had been existing in.

Sharing an equally irritated glance, you both turn to face him.

“Linguine alla Puttanesca.” Spencer drawls.

“Yeah, something like that, for sure!” Your boyfriend laughs, loudly, and without you saying a word, his arm is thrown around your waist again, stealing you from Spencer - who trails behind with a scowl fixed on your boyfriend’s arm - and returning to the dining room.

At the table, you sit opposite Spencer, with your boyfriend sitting on your left. You’re grateful for the casual conversation in the room taking his attention away from you for the most part, allowing you the peace of eating without him saying something that makes you want to vomit.

“Been thinking of getting some sleeping pills myself, not been sleeping too good on the couch!”

Nevermind.

Your eyes close in a pained blink, and you lift your napkin with an unnecessarily firm grip to wipe at your mouth.

“Oh. You’ve not got…comfy cushions?” Penelope tries to save the conversation, but the awkward silence has already descended upon the table at your boyfriend’s blatant overshading at your expense.

“Nope, barely been sleeping a wink! I miss my own bed, I’ll tell you that!” Your boyfriend laughs.

Setting your napkin down, you keep your gaze fixed on your half empty plate. You can feel eyes on you. Everywhere.

“A dinner party with your partner’s friends is not the social setting for discussing your relationship.” Spencer quips, releasing enough tension in your chest to allow you a breath.

“Don’t worry, bro, she doesn’t mind!” Your boyfriend nudges you with his arm, and you are rigid.

“Nobody at this table requires a profiling skillset to determine that (Y/N) does mind.” Spencer’s protective nature is bristling.

“Oh yeah, bet you profilers can just look and tell exactly what her problem is, huh?!” Your boyfriend laughs. “Go on, guess!” He demands of the table, like he’s prepping a joke with the greatest punchline in human history.

The table is silent. You close your eyes in a pained blink, begging any god that may exist, please, please-

“She won’t sleep with me!” Your boyfriend roars with laughter, and time slows to an agonizing halt.

The only accompanying sounds are cutlery clattering against plates, then two chairs scraping against the floor.

“That’s enough. Get out.” Rossi points at the door.

“With pleasure.” Spencer’s tone is cool as ice. In a fraction of a second, he rounds the table, grabs your boyfriend by his collar and drags him out of Rossi’s dining room, to the front door.

While the rest of the team crowd around you to check you’re okay, you’re shaking your hand and scrambling to stand, running outside. Spencer’s fists grip your boyfriend’s collar, pinning him to the side of his car.

“-and if I ever find you within a five mile radius of her, I’ll ruin your life without breaking a single law.” He seethes.

“She’s barely even my girlfriend, man, she doesn’t even put out! You can have her!” Your ex boyfriend holds his hands up in surrender while signing his own death warrant.

Spencer’s right hook sends him hurtling against the sidewalk, and Spencer is on him in the blink of an eye. Trapping him under his legs, Spencer delivers punch after punch, hearing bones crack with the force but only seeing red, until Rossi and Luke physically pull him off, and even then he tries to fight past them to carry on.

“Kid, kid, take a breath- you got him!” Rossi gently pats Spencer’s back, and with wide eyes like a deer in headlights, you appear in front of him.

“Spencer.” You breathe his name with an unnamed emotion, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, and his glazed over eyes that hadn’t been able to look anywhere but the bloody mess on sidewalk, find you in an instant.

Emily is already calling in some favors with the local police department to get this resolved with minimal assault charges, if possible.

“C’mon, inside.” You tell Spencer gently, taking one of his trembling, bloody hands in yours and guiding him back into Rossi’s house.

Taking him past the dining room, you find the kitchen and lead Spencer to lean against the empty counter beside the sink. Very carefully, you hold both of his hands under the cold water to wash them free of blood. It doesn’t take you long to realize the blood doesn’t just come from your ex-boyfriend. He’s running on adrenaline, breathing heavily, half watching you and half watching the doorway, as if expecting someone else to walk in that he has to take out to protect you.

Once his hands are as clean as you can get them, you retrieve some ice packs from Rossi’s freezer and hold them to Spencer’s swollen, bloody knuckles. You can’t look away from them.

“Are you in any pain yet?” You ask in a small voice.

“None.” Spencer answers sharply, gaze fixed on the doorway now because he can keep you in his peripheral vision, mind locked in fight or flight mode with an obvious winner.

“This is all my fault, Spencer, I’m so sorry- if I’d have broken up with him…” Your forehead drops to Spencer’s chest, pressing against the fabric of his black tie.

Those words catch him so off guard that he falters, and then frowns.

“None of this is in any way your fault.” Spencer states bluntly.

“If I’d broken up with him already, he wouldn’t have been here, wouldn’t have said those things in front of y- Spencer!” You cut yourself off when your reminder of what your ex had said has Spencer trying to move past you to go back outside and start right where he left off, having no choice but to grab his arm in an effort to stop him.

Realistically, you are not strong enough to hold Spencer in place. If he wanted to, he could push past you easily, but your hand on him could disarm a nuclear bomb if he was its power source.

“Don’t. Please. Stay.” You plead.

Like you ever have to ask.

Spencer settles back against the counter, one of his cold, bloody hands lifting to cup the back of your head, tilting your forehead back to his chest hold you there.

“By the same token, I could have prevented this, had I said what’s been unsaid.” Spencer murmurs into your hair.

“That’s way less fair than the point I made.” You remark, which has him smirking against the top of your head.

“Don’t get smart with me when I’m running on adrenaline.” Spencer warns playfully.

“Don’t get flirty when you just beat a guy to a pulp for disrespecting me.” You counter, causing him to scoff quietly.

“That reminds me, I must amend a previous statement.” Spencer says, and you can’t resist tilting your head back to look up at him, his hands immediately shaking free of their icepacks to cup your cheeks.

“Mhmm?” You press.

“I said all it would take for me to clock him would be him making you cry, this has proven to be incorrect. Based on my actions tonight, I can safely say if he made you cry, I would kill him.” Spencer speaks with a tone so soft you’d think he was complimenting you, his thumbs caressing your cheeks so tenderly while he threatens your ex’s very life.

“Wow. Big words for a man who hasn’t even taken me out on a first date.” You smirk.

“Moving a little fast, aren’t we, sunshine?” Spencer quips teasingly, his own smirk forming.

“A year of tiptoeing around each other while I was in a relationship is only moving a little fast by the standards of the romance novels you read, Doc.” You joke.

“Touché.” Spencer laughs fondly down at you. “Does this mean I can finally attempt to court you, fair lady?”

Butterflies that he singlehandedly commands, fly free in your stomach.

“I’d say so.” You answer softly, and Spencer breathes the deepest sigh of relief.

He leans down to rest his forehead against yours, ever so gently bumping his nose to yours in the most tender gesture of affection.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer whispers, his breath fanning your lips.

“Anything.” You murmur.

Spencer smiles at the breathlessness he can already hear in your voice, solely caused by his proximity. Time slows to the most beautiful halt as he leans in, leaving the softest kiss at the corner of your mouth, barely even touching your lips.

“It was me who left a flower on your desk.”

[verstappen-cult]

ooooo! what about Norris! reader x lestappen and the Miami podium. like being over the moon for her brother but extremely turned on by her boys. :)

hope you are doing well!

You have three reasons — dressed in Mclaren orange, blue and Ferrari red, to be happy.

The crowd goes wild as your three favorite people in the world climb on their respective step on the podium, and you don't waste time joining all the cheering around you.

It's fantastic that your brother has finally won his first F1 race. You think about all those times you two talked about it; all the doubts about himself and the sleepless nights analyzing his driving because "what am I doing wrong?" but he's there now. His dream has finally came true.

But next to him on the second and third step of the podium are your boyfriends, beaming, right where they belong. You're always happy when Max wins and extremely excited when Charles manages to secure a spot on the podium with that Ferrari tractor, which is not as often as you'd like. But in those special moments when the two of them are there, well, that is one of your favorites sights.

Then, all three of them are spraying the champagne and making a mess of themselves.

They look down and all the blood in your body rushes to your face, Charles' wet and blushed face makes your knees go weak — if you weren't leaning against the railing you'd have been on the floor the second you turned your gaze to Max, who's taking his cap off an running a hand through his blonde locks. Both of them wink at you, as if they've planned to make you lose your mind beforehand.

All three of them are rushed out of the podium and you know you'd have to wait a long time to be able to congratulate them.

***

You're too focused zooming in and out of the photos to hear the door opening and the whispers of laughter and conversation.

You don't use Twitter. Not a lot, at least. But decided to pop in there just to see what everyone was saying about today's events. And oh boy, the girlies were having a feast. You avoided all thirst tweets about your brother and liked a few of the ones talking about his hard work and his much deserved win.

But then. But then...

There were just two pictures. One of Charles and one of Max. You didn't even read the tweet before liking it and opening the first pic to have a better look at your Monégasque boyfriend. His eyes are closed while his mouth is open trying to catch a few droplets of champagne. Your heart speeds up when you see his own hand wrapped around his throat.

You have to take a sharp intake of breath the second you swipe left and your Dutch boyfriend's face pops up. He has the balaclava in his hand while the other's in his hair. Just like Charles, he has his eyes closed as the sun shines directly on his blushed face. His lips are swollen and red, just like he has them when...

"Angel?" Charles' voice startles you so much that your phone slides to the floor.

"You scared me!" You try to grab your phone but Max is faster. "Give me that."

Max eyes widen when he looks down at the screen, his picture from today looking back at him. Then, he swipes right and Charles’ smile grows bigger when he looks at himself, realizing what you were doing.

"Thirsting over us, uh?" Max says, jokingly. But you can see the blush adorning his cheeks. He always gets shy looking at pictures of himself taken by people that aren't you or Charles.

"Shut. Up." You stand up from your spot on the couch and walk over to them, wrapping your arms around their respective shoulders, which is a little hard given that they're taller than you. "I'm so happy for you. I couldn't stop crying until you were on the podium."

Charles eyes soften and gives you a kiss on the head. "I'm sure it was a special podium for you, baby."

"Lando invited us to celebrate tonight. Did he text you?" Max says, caressing your forearms.

"Yes, I was talking with him before..."

Max interrupts you, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Before you got distracted by thirst tweets about us." Your face burns, embarrassed at being caught, and hide against his chest.

"Oh come on!" Charles tickles your sides, making you step back and point an accusatory finger at him. "Show us more of those tweets."

"Uh, no! Are you out of your mind?"

"I want to see what the people are saying about us." He defends himself, walking over to the bed and plopping down with his arms behind his head. His eyebrow-wiggling makes you roll your eyes.

Looking at Max, you ask, "You want to boost your ego too?"

"Nah. I just want to see you get turned on by looking at pictures of us."

[sinsirellaxx]

Can you do toxic boys reacting to you showing up at their dorm crying? I’m in love with your writing ugh

Slytherin Boys – What they’d be like if you show up at their dorm crying

Warning: There are no warnings for this one I think. The boys are quite tame and fluffy-ish here

A/N: Thank you so much!! ❤️ Glad you like it and I hope you'll enjoy this one too! I know there is a huge misbalance in terms of length for each characters but I just couldn't help myself with some of them. I initially wanted to keep all of them short.

Have fun reading!

Mattheo …

… who would silently pull you into his room and right into his arms, letting you sob into his chest. He’d carefully stroke your hair and press soft kisses onto your forehead, letting his lips linger on your skin. Mattheo who’d slowly pull you towards his bed, removing your shoes and tucking you both in. Mattheo would close the curtains to his bed to give you more privacy in case anyone else walked into the shared dorm. He’d not ask any questions for the time being as he didn’t want to further upset you with nosy questions. After you had calmed down a bit, he lifted your head from his chest to be able to look into your eyes before he carefully spoke. “What happened, love?”

Theodore …

… wasn’t in his room when you knocked on his door. If you hadn’t felt as threatened and anxious you would have never entered his room without him, but you did. Upon entering his room, you sighed out in relief and immediately closed his door. Walking up to his bed you took off your shoes and your tie before lying down on and pressing your nose into his pillow, taking in a deep breath. As his smell surrounded your senses you could feel your muscles relax. Your eye lids fell close as you slowly nodded off.

Theodore walked into his dark room with a sigh. He was worried because you hadn’t replied to any of his messages or calls. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed the drawn curtains of his bed. When he noticed your shoes on the floor a small smile appeared on his face. Found you.

Opening the curtain slightly he slipped into bed with you, spooning you from behind. Pressing his nose into your hair he breathed in your smell – oh how he loved you.

The sudden movement seemed to have woken you up as you slowly turned in his arms, eyes puffy from all the crying. Just like a small child does when it sees its mother your eyes started tearing up when you looked into his beautiful eyes.

Wrapping your arms around him tightly you hid your face in his chest, crying softly.

Theodore, slightly confused, tightened his grip on you. “What’s wrong, cara mia? What happened?”

Lorenzo …

… would be instantly angry. Why were you crying? Who made you cry? He’d have so many questions swirling around in his head, but he wouldn’t dare ask – not until you hadn’t stopped crying. His current priority was you. He hugged you close to his body and whispered how much he loved you and that you were safe. He felt you relax after a while, your sobs just mere sniffs now. He carefully lifted your head with a finger under your chin and placed soft kisses onto your puffy eyelids, nose and finally your lips.

“What’s wrong, love. What happened?” He asked softly, his hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek. He listened to you closely as you told him that you had found threatening notes in your belongings the past few days and that they were getting worse. Threatening you to stay away from Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Don’t worry love, they can’t hurt you. I’m here – you’re safe with me.”

Lorenzo was seething – how dare they threaten you and try to destroy the relationship that he has carefully built. However, a small voice in his head told him, that this might be another chance – an opportunity to pull you closer into his web. You’d depend more and more on him now, that you were scared for your life. And he didn’t even have to move a single finger.

Draco …

… threatens to tell his father about it. He was shocked to hear that Cormac McLaggen has been bullying and spreading nasty rumors about you for rejecting him. Draco would make it his mission to ruin his life and he’d succeed. That he was sure of.

Your boyfriend would spend the next few days pampering you: going on dates, buying you flowers and things you might like – anything to cheer the love of his life up. What you would have to deal with, however, was that he got even more protective of you: he’d want to be around you all the time – which you didn’t mind as you felt safer around him.  

Blaise …

… immediately picked you up and placed you on his bed. He’d help you change into comfier clothes, pressing occasional kisses onto your skin as he listened to your rant. You had failed your exam even though you had spent so much time in the library, studying for that damn thing. “It’s fine, love. We can study together next time, how’s that sound?” He offered as another sob escaped your trembling lips. He pressed a kiss onto your red nose – he couldn’t help but find you endearing, with your teary eyes, your red nose and your trembling cheeks – he just wanted to eat you up. You nodded at him with wide eyes as you threw your arms around him, crying into his crook of his neck. Blaise gently patted your back, a small smile on his lips.

Tom …

… would be mad. Mad that you were crying. And mad at whoever made you cry. He always felt awkward whenever you cried because he did not know what to do to console you. He knew however, that you liked physical contact, so he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his long arms around you tightly. He didn’t need to ask any questions – you were already so vulnerable and distract that he could freely see into your mind to find out who or what made you cry. You wouldn’t even notice. And after you had fallen asleep, he’d sneak out and take care of the matter himself.

[eternally-racing]

keep her safe | lando norris

pairing: dad! lando x wife! reader (+ their teenage daughter!)

genre: fluff & angst-ish

warnings: racing crash, reader/lando's kid is in the hospital, some swearing

wc: 1.4k

summary: Nothing prepares you for the feeling of watching your daughter's first crash in formula 3.

note: this fic can be read as part of the racer girl series or as a stand alone as well!

----

Lando always hated pulling the “I’m a celebrity” card when you two were out in public. He's never wanted the special treatment that companies wanted to give him before, but the minute he sees his daughter crash in her first Formula 3 race, he’s trying to pull out every trump card he has to get his way into the medical tent. 

“That’s my fucking daughter in there, you can’t keep her from me! This is absolutely insane! I’m Lando fucking Norris, don’t you know who I am?”  Lando is yelling and yelling and you hold him back by the wrist because otherwise you think he might actually charge at the door to try and get through it. 

He more than anyone here knows what a bad crash looks like, and from the minute he saw your daughter, Piper, go into the barriers he knew that it was a rough one. There’s cameras swarming around you both but he doesn’t care (It’s not like he was a PR team’s dream when he was a driver himself). That’s his little girl in there and she’s hurt. There’s now a full commotion in front of the medical area and Lando admits defeat as he sinks back into the wall behind him and crumbles to the floor with you following suit. 

“She’s afraid of needles, Y/N.” Lando says no louder than a whisper towards the shut doors “Who’s gonna tell them that she’s afraid of needles if I’m not there?”

You know that if she’s in a state where they’re not letting you see her and she’s being transferred to the hospital that she likely has already gotten a lot of needles and wasn’t conscious enough to feel them, but you keep that information to yourself once you see the worried look on Lando’s face. This exact moment is something you two had worried about ever since your little girl first stepped in a kart, and somehow it was worse than you had ever imagined it would be.

By the time you and Lando make it to the hospital it feels like hours have gone by, even though in reality it hadn’t been more than a handful of minutes. Lando’s never been more grateful for his success when a nurse recognizes him and immediately guides you both in the direction of Piper’s room. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to make it through a conversation right now anyways. 

The scene inside is every parent’s worst nightmare. There are lines going in and out of Piper’s arms and bags of fluid are hung next to her bed; there are too many machines beeping and showing numbers and graphs that you just can’t understand. You feel Lando’s knees buckle beside yours and you keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady. You both need each other right now, there’s no doubt about that. 

When Piper cries out for her daddy from the hospital bed it brings a fresh set of tears to your eyes. You can’t remember the last time Piper actually called Lando daddy, it had been “dad” for the most part or “Mr.Norris” if she felt like being cheeky, but hearing those words from her mouth brought you right back to when she was a little girl, your little girl. 

Lando rushes to her side and has both hands caressing her face. He knows that she’s been checked over by the doctors, but he needs to see for himself that she’s really okay. He presses his forehead against hers as they cry together. You’ll never fully understand what Piper’s just been through, but the man standing in front of her does all too well. 

You hang back a bit to talk to the doctors, who try to give you a comprehensive update on her status, but as soon as you hear the words “she’s fine and on track to make a complete recovery” you zone out as you finally let out the breath that it feels like you’ve been holding this whole time. You’re about to go rejoin your family once you hear the next words out of your daughter’s mouth.

“I’m sorry dad, I know this meant a lot to you.” Piper sighs as she pulls the hospital sheets up to her chin.  “Did I at least make it around a lap? Am I the youngest ever female formula 3 driver to complete a lap in a grand prix?” 

This is when Lando has to face the music - he got so excited about his daughter dreaming of Formula 1 that he may have pushed her a little too far if his daughter is more worried about beating records than she is about her own health. Lando tries to calm his own breathing as he grabs both of Piper’s hands to lay on his own to get her full attention. He wants to make sure she fully understands what he’s about to say.

“You’re always going to be my little girl, Pipes. Racing or not, I am always proud of you. I never want you to feel like you have to impress me.” Lando doesn’t even answer Piper’s question about the record because frankly he has no idea. He’s never once cared about awards and prizes and all of the fancy shit. All he’s ever wanted is for her to be happy, and he tells her exactly that. 

Piper stops crying long before Lando does, and you’re amazed by the maturity your daughter shows as she starts wiping the tears from your husband’s eyes. You all just need a little family cuddle so you do exactly that, and take a moment to appreciate the lives that the three of you have and how precious that is. The sentimental moment is only broken by your daughter, who says that she has a little request for the two of you. 

“Do you think you can ask the doctors if they can give me the good stuff that you got back in Vegas all those years ago, dad?”  

Moments like this remind you that Piper is her father’s daughter and it earns a laugh from you both. 

“Not a chance, kid, but good try.” 

For the first time in what feels like years, the 3 of you sleep in one bed together. It’s one teeny tiny hospital bed made for a teenager, so you both wake up with extremely sore backs but very full hearts. Piper’s the first to fall asleep, understandably spent from the day she’s been through, but you notice Lando’s eyes never leave her, as if he’s worried she’ll disappear if he looks away. You reach over to grab his hand, you get it. Call it parental instinct, but that feeling of anxiety after something bad happens to your child is just something you can’t push away, and you want him to know that you’re here for him. You both wordlessly take turns watching over Piper throughout the night, holding her hand through blood draws and med deliveries. 

 Lando spends all day and night at Piper’s side while she’s recovering, and it’s only when you and your daughter tell him that he smells absolutely horrendous and needs to go shower do you finally get him to take a beat for himself. He still calls 3 times on the drive home from the hospital alone to check how Piper’s doing, and you have to threaten to not pick up the next time he calls before he finally takes a bit of a break. So often it feels like children drift away from their parents in their teenage years, but Piper’s recovery has given you both the opportunity to spend some much needed time with her as she grows up. 

The minute Piper is cleared by the medical team she’s instantly back in the simulator. She’s a little daredevil like her daddy after all. Lando of course asks over and over again if she’s doing this for herself and not him, the fear of making the same mistakes as earlier weighing heavy on his mind. Your daughter is nothing if not honest, so she tells him about how she loves the sport itself but also loves the way she’s able to connect to her dad through it. Lando makes her pinky promise that she’ll let her know if she ever changes her mind on the subject, and lucky for you both, she never does.

---

author's note: this was based on a lovely request from a reader! if you have any requests feel free to drop them in my ask box :) If you liked this piece and haven't read racer girl yet, give it a read because I'm sure you'll love that one too!

Until next time! - Em <;3

[xshadowdelta]

Witch

Irene x Male Reader (3.6K Length)

"Hey rookie, it’s time to work."

You stood up and left that small service room, in whose sign was written 'Authorized Service Only'.

It was your first week in this new summer job as a bellboy at the most famous 5-star hotel, right in the middle of the city with a huge amount of guests every day. You got here thanks to a friend’s recommendation, not your dream job, but you really needed the money, and the pay was juicy. You arrived at the reception hall where your manager was standing next to a mountain of suitcases, feeling as if your soul wanted to leave your body seeing all those bags.

"Miss Bae Joohyun’s luggage, room 362, as soon as possible, she is waiting for it."

It took you a while to place every one of the suitcases in the luggage birdcage, using every skill you had in the Tetris game to not drop them. Then you took the elevator to the third floor, and once there, you drove until you reached the indicated room by your senior.

You knocked on the door and fixed the wrinkles in your jacket, since your first day, the manager had been very insistent on looking perfect in front of the clients. You heard the sound of the door opening and forced one of your best smiles,

"Good morning, Miss Bae, here is your luggage."

The woman in front of you didn’t say a single word as she scanned you up and down, just a slight head move to give you permission to get inside the room, meanwhile, she continues with the phone call in which she was involved.

Oh yeah, another rich middle-aged woman with a major superiority complex. You frowned and let out a whisper that only you could hear.

"Witch…"

But you have a job to do, so you entered the suite along with the luggage and began to unstack all the suitcases.

You looked back at the woman who was now standing, looking at the beautiful views offered by the windows of that room. She was speaking in a foreign language, maybe korean.

Yet you managed to understand the word "stylist" and it gave you the feeling that the person on the other side of the line was getting a good scold.

You could only see the profile of her face, enough to detect a serious and cold expression that you didn't like at all, but still you had to admit that she was a very beautiful woman.

The work was finished at the same time she ended the call. Your eyes met for a moment, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You gave her a small bow before saying goodbye.

"Have a good stay with us, Miss Bae, we are at your disposal." You were already close to the door when her voice stopped you.

"Wait a moment, please."

Another smile was forced in your face before turning on your feet to come face to face with her.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Here is your tip."

She got some bills out of her wallet and offered them to you. You hesitated at first, but you ended up taking them, and for the first time, your smile was a genuine one. You save them in the pocket of your uniform, ready to finally leave that room.

"By the way, just from one look, have you been able to deduce that I am a witch?" Suddenly, your breathing stopped, and your skin tone turned pale white. You were sure you had said it quietly enough for her not to hear that.

"Being a woman as important as me. I must be alert to everything that happens around me, don’t you think?”

Cool, now she can read minds, definitely a witch.

"I apologize, Miss Bae, it was never my intention to hurt your feelings." Your voice trembled, knowing you could be fired because of this.

"Feelings? I put them aside many years ago."

The confusion on your face was notorious, your eyes followed her to see how she took a seat, watching you with a scary look. Another shiver ran down your spine. Running away from there was not a good idea, first because it wouldn't solve anything and would make you look like a coward, but the truth is that you wanted to disappear from the world at that moment.

On the other hand, you could just cry like a baby begging for her forgiveness, that would certainly be ridiculous, but it would save your ass from a guaranteed dismissal.

"Miss Bae…"

"Don’t tell me. Do you want us to forget this incident, right?"

Her face was cold, and her words sounded like ice, sinking deeper and deeper into your chest. But you couldn't articulate a single word, just nodded your head.

For a small period of time, you thought that a halo of kindness would take over her, and she would give in to your request to forgive you, but kindness wasn't in the dictionary of Bae Joohyun.

"Get naked"

It took you a few seconds to understand the request she had just made. She didn't take long to repeat. "What are you waiting for? Get naked"

"WHAT?"

That scream only made her angrier, hitting the ground with her foot, impatient. Her look did not change at any time, she continued staring at you, challenging you.

"I see, you don’t care about this job, so…"

"Wait…"

Your hands started to move, and your uniform jacket fell to the floor. You continued unbuttoning your shirt, making your naked torso visible.

Next was taking off your shoes so you could get rid of your pants that would accompany the rest of the clothes on the floor, leaving you in underwear under the watchful eye of Mrs. Joohyun, who now had a slight mischievous smile while looking at you.

"I think we have a different concept about nudity."

You looked down at your nether area, and then your eyes returned to her. She was really trying to humiliate you in every way. "Everything?"

The coldness of her gaze was enough of an answer for you, making you slide your hands over your boxers, leaving you now completely naked. "Now I want you to stay there, don’t move and pay attention."

You felt like you were about to faint right there when you saw that woman spread her legs on the couch, raising her dress to reveal her panties, which she pushed aside.

She was showing you her naked pussy before she started caressing it with her hand. You couldn't believe your eyes, a minute ago you were fired, and now you had an incredibly hot woman masturbating herself right in front of you. Joohyun licked his own hand as she stroked herself fast, starting to moan with no shame. Despite finding yourself in this complicated situation, watching this show made your body react, and your penis was already completely erect. You tried to move one of your hands towards your penis, but Joohyun's voice stopped you. "Told you to, don't move!" "Remember that your job is at risk."

Then she inserted two of her fingers inside her pussy to stimulate herself more. Hear her loud moans, and the watery sound due to the humidity of her vagina was driving you crazy.

Joohyun continued like this for a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Meanwhile, you were praying that this torture would come to an end, and miraculously she would decide to forgive you and run away out of there, straight to the employee bathroom to masturbate yourself, thinking about what you were experiencing at this moment.

"Come here" She demanded in an authoritarian tone, and you approached until you were right in front of her, which didn't stop her from continuing to pleasure herself.

"On your knees."

Now, your face was practically a few centimeters from her pussy, but you didn't expect Joohyun to let out one last pleasure scream, squirting directly on you.

You closed your eyes at time, however, now your face was covered by Joohyun fluids, who was now breathing tiredly but still looking at you, with a serious expression on her face.

“Wow”

Was the only thing you could say, you were in shock after what had just happened. You ran your hand over your face, trying to clean up the mess, licking a couple of your fingers in the process.

"Delicious"

"What have you said?" She was stunned, and her voice tone sounded even more enraged.

"You are delicious, Mrs. Bae."

That answer made her get up from the couch in a bad mood. She walked to the pile of your clothes on the floor and grabbed the tie that minutes ago had surrounded your neck, but now was being used to tie your hands at your back.

"What are you doing?" You asked, standing up.

She stood next to you and, without warning, grabbed your still erect penis with one of her hands, making you gasp.

"You keep saying vulgarities, you need a real punishment."

She whispered in your ear, starting to masturbate your penis slowly, making you moan a little bit. She was increasing the pace, stroking you with both hands at the same time.

"You were supposed to feel humiliation, and instead you had the courage to taste my fluids and the nerve to say 'delicious.'  I have never met someone like you, you are quite a challenge."

Your brain was unable to say anything as it was busy moaning in pleasure at Jonghyun's touch.

"Mrs. Bae, I'm about to…"

"Don't you even dare, now it's my turn to taste you."

She stopped touching you and crouched on her knees in front of you. She looked up, straight into your eyes, you saw that look again, that no longer seemed so cold, but immediately closed your eyes because of the immense pleasure you felt when her mouth devoured your cock.

Your body staggered, and you cursed for having your hands tied at that moment. You opened your eyes again only to see how she sucked your cock over and over again at an accelerated but constant pace, damn, you were in heaven.

She grabbed your balls, and at the same time she was sucking you, pressing on them, making you feel a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Fuck, you have a good dick here."

She spit on your cock, going back to masturbate you, making wet your entire length, so that now when she sucked you, she also slurped some saliva.

“Mrs. Bae…”

She stopped for a second and looked into your eyes again.

"Irene…call me Irene."

The beat of your heart increased because of that, a feeling that was quickly replaced by another wave of pleasure when you noticed how she reintroduced your penis into her mouth, now even reaching his throat, causing her to choke on your cock.

You looked at the ceiling, trying to hold on as long as possible, wishing this moment would never end, then you felt a pinch of pain in your thighs, so you looked down again.

Your eyes found the view of Irene grabbing your thighs with her nails and the entirety of your cock inside her mouth, with some tears welling up in her eyes. She closed her eyes and started moving her head back and forth. You could say she was using you to fuck her own throat.

She stopped to take a breath, but immediately lifted your cock with one of his hands and began licking your balls desperately. "Keep looking at me or this will end here."

It was the first instruction that you would gladly follow.

She ran her tongue along the entire length, licking every inch before giving your tip a special treatment and taking it back into her mouth, this time masturbating you with her hands at the same time as she sucked you off. That made you about to explode.

"Irene…" You managed to say between several moans.

Then she let it off from her mouth again and masturbated you fiercely with both hands, looking at you with lust. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, sticking her tongue out. You knew what she wanted.

There was no need to say anything else. A few more seconds, and you let out a huge load of semen that fell directly into his mouth and face, squeezing until the last drop fell.

Irene's face was now a real mess. She had managed to swallow part of your cum, but other threads of semen fell near her eyes and part of her hair. She didn't mind at all, she was busy cleaning your cock now.

She got up a little later, walking until she stood behind you again, untying the knot that was imprisoning your hands. She took one of your hands and dragged you to another room in the suite, the bedroom with a huge bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she caught your attention again.

"Do you want to keep this job?"

Once again, you nodded your head.

"If you can make me have an orgasm, I'll pretend none of this ever happened, you understand?”

"Loud and clear."

You tried to hide your nervousness as best you could and mentally preparing yourself to give her the greatest effort of your life, your future depended on what happened in the next few minutes.

You took a few steps towards the direction where she was, she was imposing, she was scary, yes, but at the same time, you had a sensation running through your body that you had never experienced before, and you wanted to go until the end.

You bent your head straight to kiss his neck. She let out a sigh, a good sign, you deduced. You trailed kisses along his neck at the same time that your hands roamed her body.

"Not bad, but this is nothing out of this world."

You shouldn't rush, she was provoking you, you knew it. Make a mistake, and it will be over. However, you also knew how to play that game.

"Excuse my clumsiness, Mrs. Bae, my job consists of transporting suitcases, not to sexually satisfy clients, even so you seemed to have enjoyed my cock."

Your lips now kissed the part of her naked chest that was not covered by her dress.

"Even now you are still behaving like a reckless, shut the fuck up and take me off this damn dress…now."

She raised her arms, so the dress came out more comfortably, her black lace bra was still annoying, but with a deft movement it quickly disappeared as well, leaving you with the view of her naked tits.

Your mouth quickly acted as shelter for her boobs, drawing loud moans from Irene. Her hands traveled to the back of your head, pressing you closer against them.

"Just like that, fuck, work on these fucking little tits."

You sucked her boobs and licked her nipples, which at this point were really hard by the moves of your tongue. With every second that passed, Irene became more moldable under your touch.

At that moment, you took advantage of to move one of your hands to her lower zone, totally wet after the first session, you touched her pussy over her panties using circular movements.

"So fucking wet, Miss Bae." You said it with a superior tone.

"Told you to shut up." She was getting angry again.

"As you wish."

You replied and suddenly kissed her lips. Irene opened her eyes in surprise, but it didn't take long for her to respond to the kiss with even more energy, until both of you got separated to take a breath.

"It's funny, men are usually afraid of me, and I love to create that feeling in them, but it also makes them never dare to kiss me. I almost forgot how kisses felt." She said with a half-smile on her face, touching her swollen lips.

"In that case, let me help you remember."

You said, emboldened, kissing her again with passion, making her respond with the same lust and starting a battle of tongues inside your mouths. You lost your balance due to the fury of the kisses, and you fell on top of her when her back hit the bed.

When you separated from her again, you could see how her messy hair had fallen on her sweaty forehead and her cheeks were completely red, but you were surprised by her smile, this time it was a full formed and sincere smile.

"Show me what else can do that mouth of yours."

You kissed her lips again, a quick kiss this time, which was followed by another path of kisses all over her body until you reached her panties, you managed to take them off to finally see her naked pussy.

You kissed her thighs previously before sinking your face against her area, making her moan louder than ever. Your tongue moved fiercely against her pussy folds as Irene's screams filled the room.

"Don't stop, don't even dare to stop."

You were giving your best to make her feel good. Her moans, screams, and bad words only motivated you to continue doing this with more intensity. Having your tongue a rest, you quickly replaced it with your fingers, masturbating her with all your strength.

"Holy fuuuuuck, I’m cuming!" She screamed, curving her back and, once again, squirting a lot from her pussy, messing part of the edge of the bed and the bedroom floor.

She had now difficulty breathing correctly, and her chest was up and down again, trying to calm herself. Your fingers once again caressed her pussy, this time doing it so slowly. You approached to kiss her once again.

"Irene"

You called, so both of you noticed your penis fully recovered, ready for more rounds. She smiled at you, turning around, remaining face down, then you stared at her trained ass.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? Fuck me".

Your penis got excited hearing those words. You stood up immediately to stand behind her. Grabbing her hips and aligning yourself with her pussy, inserting your entire length at once into Irene's pussy.

"God, you're so tight." You moaned, starting to thrust into her.

"Yes, fuck, stretch my fucking pussy with your big cock."

"Holy shit, Mrs. Bae."

You increased your thrusts, making everything more and more primitive, to the point that your balls were colliding with her hips every time you buried your length inside her.

Irene couldn't stop moaning and screaming, grabbing the bedsheets with her hands while moving her hips to give more depth to your moves.

You didn't hesitate to grab one of her ass cheeks tightly with one of your hands and then give her a slap that echoed through the room and made the woman scream. You repeated it a few more times, having the same result.

"This is what you wanted, right? A witch like you just wanted to be fucked this hard."

One more spank to her already red ass, drove Irene crazy.

"Yes! Fuck yes, fuck me please! Don't stop now! Use my witch pussy however you want."

You kissed her neck from behind and ran your tongue down her back as your hips moved at a constant pace for a longer period of time.

"Wait." she said between moans. "I want to see you."

You took out your cock off her, allowing her to turn around, giving her another passionate kiss, you took her hips and brought her closer to the edge of the bed, sitting there, she opened her legs for you.

You entered inside her again, resuming your task of fucking her hard, Irene wrapped her arms around your head, moving a little on the bed, allowing you to fuck her deeper.

"So fucking deep." She sighs, closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, she met your eyes, making her blush a bit. You didn't ignore it and brought your lips closer to hers, touching them but not kissing her.

"Mrs. Bae, I'm about to cum." She took your face in her hands, smiling.

"Inside me, until the last drop… I need it."

That was the last thing you needed, Irene hugged you and in a last effort you fucked her harder than ever until you shot all your cum inside her pussy, making both of you reach an orgasm. Both of you really had made a mess.

Irene laid on the bed, still shaking, with one of her arms covering her face. You laid to next to her, looking directly at her.

"Don't worry, today is a safe day."

"That’s fine of course but wasn't my real concern."

Irene lowered her arm and stared at you for a few moments, her eyes widening as if she had forgotten the reason of this. He pretended to cough in an attempt to hide her mistake by sitting back on the bed.

"Yes, about that… You did your part, so I'll do mine, and I promise I won't say anything about what happened here."

Feeling a big relief at that moment, you didn't say anything more than "thank you" to get out of bed in search of your work clothes. You had a schedule to complete.

"I will stay here for a few days because of work."

You left your shirt half buttoned to watch as Irene leaned against the door frame, now wearing a bathrobe from the bathroom.

"Maybe you can offer me this special service again." Her mischievous smile made your face get one, too. "I am at your total disposal, Mrs. Bae."

[luveline]

hi jade!!!! hope you’re doing well❤️

i’m not sure if you’ve done this before but i just finished reading your aaron fic where reader flinches during an argument with him and i was wondering if i could request that with spencer!? that aaron one had me MELTIN

luv you so much! 🤍🤍

thank you lovely, and thank you for your request! cw implied past domestic or childhood violence

Spencer is taller than he realises, you’d suggest. He doesn’t understand that he can be intimidating because he’s spent years of his life intimidated, and thought harmless. 

“You’re not going,” he says, towering, so, so tall where he stands in front of you. 

Your hands are sweating, but you hold your ground. “Of course I am. I’ve been her consultant for the last three years, Spencer, any mistake she’s made is one she made from my advice.” 

Your frustration colours your words, tightens them, your throat burning as you try to explain it to him. All he’s hearing is the potential danger. His eyes are squinted with it, curls falling into his eyes. He’s too busy arguing with you to brush them away. 

“You can’t walk into an active war zone. Do you even know what that’s like? You’ve never been to these places, you can’t begin to understand the danger you’d be in if you went.” He tries to take your hand. You take a step away from him. “I don’t know why you’re being like this.” 

“Like what?” you ask, immediately doubly pissed off. 

“Refusing to see that what you want to do is impossible. You wouldn’t be any help to her, you’d only be in danger.” 

“I wouldn’t be any help?” 

“You know what I mean!” His voice bounces off the walls.

“I’m not sure I do, Spence,” you say, vitriolic as he again takes a step toward you, his open hand extended. “Why don’t you explain it to me.” 

“Y/N,” he says, stepping forward again. 

You step back, not wanting your back to a wall but not wanting to be closed in either while he’s so angry, you’re so angry, your heart is beating hard between your ears. “Seriously, tell me why I’d be so fucking useless.” 

“Angel–” Spencer’s hand leaps up toward your face. 

You flinch back hard, the back of your head clipping something marginally softer and your back forced under an alcove with a huge thwacking bang, an odd cry of distress pressed to your closed lips as you sink away from him. Spencer doesn’t feel like Spencer for that split second, he’s someone else trying to shut you up, and he’s close enough to do it. 

“Y/N,” he says, riddled with heartbreak, “Y/N, it’s fine. You’re safe. It’s just me.” 

You slide down the wall to the floor. Heart pounding. Blood rushing all over, and then suddenly stopped. 

“It’s just me,” he says again, softer now. “It’s just me.”

But it isn’t just him. There’s always going to be someone else cornering you, there’s always—

A slim-fingered hand cups your jaw. Spencer’s crouching in front of you now with remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to do anything to you.” 

“I know,” you try to say. It comes out as nothing but hot air. You clear your throat. “I know.” 

“It’s just you and me in here.” He rubs your chin with his thumb. “It’s always you and me, right?” 

You breathe out as tears well hot and heavy in your eyes, caught in all your lashes. “You put your hand up and I just thought– I felt like you were gonna hit me and I know you aren’t gonna hit me, I felt like you would.” 

“I was putting my hand up for the cabinet. I was trying to stop you from smacking your head on the cabinet,” he murmurs, his lips hardly parted. “I did. But I shouldn’t have closed you in.” 

He shows you his hand, the one he’d rested so carefully against your jaw and cheek. His knuckles are a sore red and the skin around them mottled —that had been the thwack. You’d knocked your head into his hand and he’d stopped you from getting hurt. He must’ve done it quickly, with no regard for himself. 

Spencer isn’t the kind of boy who’d hit you. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mumble to yourself, dropping your chin to your chest. Tears press hot behind your eyes. It took a few beatings for you to start anticipating them, and a crueller violence after that for it to stay. To flinch at a familiar hand? “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” He couldn’t speak any softer. He’s on his knees in front of you, a picture of gentleness. The annoyance he’d spoken with only minutes before is nowhere to be seen. 

For flinching, and falling apart. “I didn’t mean to…” 

“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t even matter, right? I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, and I,” —he ducks his head to meet your eyes, his voice taking on a loving dulcetness— “know you don’t like yelling, I shouldn’t raise my voice. I’m the sorry one.”

You’re relieved he isn’t mad. You honestly don’t think Spencer would ever lay his hands on you, but it wasn’t thought that made you duck away from him, it was the pure fight or flight of a remembered trauma. The memory of a raised hand and the pain of a blow to your face.

“It’s not about the shouting,” you confess. 

He rubs your arm. “Angel, I know.”

You watch his fingers rub up and down your arm, the gentle tug of your skin with each pass. “Why do you call me that?” you ask quietly. 

“Would you prefer something else?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know how you’d sound saying anything else.” 

“You’re sort of like an angel.” He sounds earnest and shy at once. “You know? You're pretty, and sweet when you aren’t mad at me, and–” He pauses at your soft laugh. “I really didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry.” 

He brings both hands to your cheeks and wipes at the dampness of dissipated tears under your eyes with his thumbs. He holds your face without hurry nor roughness nor want to straighten you out; he doesn’t encourage you to lift your head, he only meets your eyes as you are, letting you decide what you want to do. 

“Thanks, Spencer,” you say. 

He leans in to kiss your cheek, his hair brushing your nose. You hold still, but you aren’t afraid.

[playnextdoor]

Take it off

summary: fwb!sub!abby x reader

warnings: fwb! abby, mentions of marijuana usage, sub! abby, teasing, nipple play, cunnilingus, making out, fingering, needy abby because it's my favorite. proof read-ish. lmk if i missed anything

Fall time was the best time. The stuffy, clammy summer air is gone, and the brisk fall air enters your lungs. The sound of the crunchy leaves under your feet, warm drinks, and smoke seshes in your nice, warm home. You love it. 

But.. it also means cuffing season, and you weren't getting any of that because Abby decided to stop seeing you. You know you are not supposed to get attached while being friends with benefits, but fucking hell, it was Abby for crying out loud. It was normal for Abby to ghost you for 2-3 days, but a whole week? The beginning of the season has been shit for you.

You set up your nightly, ritually smoke sesh in your room. Sitting down on your cozy floor table, convenient for times like these, you start preparing your spread. Rolling papers that left a lingering taste of strawberries, the grinder that you decorated with stickers, your lucky lighter that is always with you, and finally, your precious herb that was in a small glass jar. You put on your favorite show and start getting comfortable until you hear Abby’s signature two knocks. You feel your heart drop literally to your ass. You wait for about 2 minutes until you listen to it again.

Knock, knock.

“Are you fucking kidding me..” you mutter, pushing the table as you stretch your legs. Grabbing the first item of clothing in your hamper, you slip on a hoodie and quickly walk to the door. Opening the door where you meet a deliciously looking blonde-haired girl. Hair out of her braid and shorts that accentuate the muscles on her thighs. She looks too good, and she knows it.

“What do you need?” you said, not even a hello and not even opening the door all the way. Abby puts her arm in the doorway.

“Aw, did you miss me?” she asks, using her body weight to push the door open, pushing you with it. She lets herself inside, already looking around your living room.

“C’mon, Abby. What do you need? You want to call us off for a week and show up at my house without letting me know?” You say as you close the door, following her into your living room. You instantly regret letting this woman back into your home again. The smell of her pine body wash, the sandalwood perfume she wore, and the warmth she emitted from her was enough to open your arms(or your legs) to her again.

“The thing is..” Abby starts, but as she sits on the couch, a sly smirk creeps on her face. You bite your bottom lip, aware of the effect Abby has on you, so if she smiles, you can’t help but smile.

“Take it off,” Abby says, making herself comfortable by spreading her legs, seeing how her shorts ride up and can get a peek of her baby blue spandex shorts. You feel your face warm up, trying to keep your eyes above her waist.

“E-excuse me?” was all you could say as you stared at her in disbelief. 

She raises her eyebrows. “That hoodie,” she says, pointing to the exact hoodie you had on. “I came to get it back with a few of my other things.”

Shit.

“Look, I'm sorry,” sighing to mostly yourself. Abby reminded you that she wanted her stuff back, and because of the sudden disconnect between you two, you didn’t have the time. You took a moment to look around you, seeing if there were any remnants of her presence still lingering in your home. “I haven't done any laundry and just grabbed whatever was in my hamper. Tomorrow, I'll have a look around.”

Abby shakes her head with that same stupid smirk on her face. She flips her hair to the side and loosens the neck of her hoodie collar Was she hot..?

“No. I want you to take it off. Right now,” She says in that tone that you're familiar with. A deep, dulcet, yet desperate. 

You feel this fluttering hurt in your stomach, the good kind. You haven’t slept with anyone since Abby, and she looks like she needs you…

Fuck it.

You grab the bottom of the hoodie, lifting it and revealing your naked top half. Your skin litters with goosebumps, feeling the slight chill air around you, but the warm liquid swimming in your belly is another thing. You see the light pink blush painting Abby’s cheeks as you toss the hoodie. Fuck she’s so cute. Abby catches it but tosses the hoodie to the side and yanks your hand as you fall on top of her. 

“Abby!” you let out a small yelp as she melts her lips to yours. The way Abby was kissing you was enough to tell you that this girl was needy. Hertongue finds yours, teeth clashing, letting out small, quiet moans and whines as her grip on your arm tightens. You break the kiss, taking a good look at her glossy lips, her eyes drooped with arousal, and how her hair is already mused.

“And you said that I missed you? Look at you, poor baby.” You whisper in the space between the two of you, letting your lips linger but not enough for the needy girl below you to get another taste. 

Abby’s eyes widen for a second, opening her mouth to say something but closing it with a flustered face.

“You missed me so much,” You say as your hand creeps up on the muscular thigh, so close to where she needs you. She shifts, wanting to get you between her legs, but you’re already one step ahead of her. You move your knee, having good pressure against Abby that has her slightly bucking her eager hips. “That you came over to get a stupid sweater?”

Abby’s eyebrows furrow, and she shakes her head. This cute, puzzled look on her face makes you want to bury her in kisses, but you’re supposed to be mad at her. You lean back into her lips, biting, sucking, anything that works her up. Abby is putty below you. She lets out these moans that you’ve never heard before, high-pitched mewls that make you bite her lip harder. Your hand creeps up her thigh, up into the crewneck, and you are met with her bare, sensitive chest, rising and falling rapidly  You smile into the kiss, not wanting to embarrass her even more for coming over prepared. You grope her chest, fondling with the fat that lay there and playing with the pebbling nipple. Abby breaks the kiss, inhaling sharply.

“Ah- please.” She gasps, bucking her hips again. This was a completely different side of her. Abby has received from you, and she is pretty vocal in bed, but this fucking submissive? It makes you want to deprive her for weeks on end. You break the kiss, hurridly helping Abby take off her crewneck and attaching your mouth to her boob. Circling your tongue around the rose-colored nipple has Abby holding her breath. After a few minutes of playing with her chest, you trail kisses down to the navel. You didn’t even have to ask, as Abby was quick to slip her shorts off, tossing them somewhere in the living room.

“Mmm, needy, aren’t we?” looking into her eyes as you mutter against her hip bone, skin almost feverish to how warm she was. Abby rolls her eyes, the sass still somehow in her.

“Fuck yes, ok? Please, baby,” Abby whines, throwing her head back onto the couch armrest. She reveals her neck, sweat droplets cascade slowly, accentuating the veins that played there. Fingers are dancing up her leg, in between where you see how desperate her cunt is. Glistening, soft pink flesh and her musk have you blacking out slightly. 

“I want you to look at me, Abby.” You said, patting her thigh to grab her attention as you met with her eyes. It’s as if she was god himself. Her fucked out expression made you clench around nothing.

“Good girl” was the last thing you said as you stuck your tongue out and licked a fat stripe of her pussy. Abby can't help but close her eyes, too overwhelmed by your teasing tongue. 

“Nuh uh, look at me. I want you to watch, baby,” putting your tongue away, smoothing her shaking thighs over with your hands. She nods eagerly, raking her hair out of her face. You bite back a smile before diving in again. Spreading her open with your mouth, Abby was so wet. Slick coating your chin, you move your hand over to pull back her clit to kiss it. Moans strung out from the blonde above, not caring how loud she was getting. She grabs your hair and makes a satisfying pull to your scalp that has you groaning into her cunt. You alternate between sucking, licking, sucking, licking. Your head is spinning as you prop yourself on your elbows, applying the pressure of two fingers dancing on her clit, your jaw feeling sore. Smiling at the cute, blissed-out expression on Abby’s face makes you want to be between her legs all night. 

“Are you close?” you ask, voice hoarse after not speaking for the last 3 minutes. Abby doesn't dare to open her eyes, knowing that if she makes eye contact with you, she’ll come too fast. She nods, eyebrows furrowed as she nibbles on her swollen bottom lip from the constant biting she does. You allow it this time, allowing Abby to take in the euphoric blooming in her stomach. You really shouldn’t, wishing you had prolonged her orgasm as a punishment for ghosting you and making you suffer every night. 

“Come for me, baby, yeah? Show me how bad you want this” Famous last words before you attached your mouth back onto her clit, switching your finger to easily slip into her. Pumping your index finger in a “come hither” motion, feeling her clench around you. 

“Fuck fuck, please, I’m coming. K-keep-ah-doing that,” She hisses as her body seizes, fingers gripping so good in your scalp. Strong thighs clamp around your head as you lazily lick at her rosy clit with a grin.

Who knew Abby could be so fucking needy?

a/n: heyyyyyyy, sorry i was on hiatus for a while. i suddenly got the motivation to write, so do what you will with this

[syluss-slut]

•°•°•Safe Embrace°•°•

Summary: your uterus pulls a fuck you by starting your period early even if you just had one two weeks ago, but your 6'2 boyfie is here to cuddle the pain away.

Pairings: Sylus×Reader ⚡

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, mention of period pain.

A/n: yearning is at an all-time high rn. LIKEYOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I NEED THIS MAN SO BAD HNSGBFBSHDNBHSN

You walked towards sylus's room in heavy steps. You were even surprised your body could hold on for that long.

Your period took you by surprise, coming back again after not even two weeks. Beauty of womanhood, isn't it? You spoiled your favourite pajama pants because of that and on top of all this, it was a heavy flow. In the middle of a productive week. Could it get any worse?

You knocked on his bedroom door, sylus taking not even a second knock to open it for you. As soon as the door opened, you managed to take one step in and collapsed right after. (Un)surprisingly, you didn't hit the floor, but rather found yourself in sylus' safe embrace, as he caught you just in time.

As he brought you to the bed, you silently start weeping in his chest. Tears run down your face due to the pain you were in.

Alarmed, "what's wrong, kitten?" Sylus enquires, a soft look in his eyes, concern in his voice.

Somehow, it made you cry even more. Your period hormones were driving you crazy.

He sits down on the bed, with you in his arms and now on his lap. One of his hand is on your back, soothing you and the other holds up your chin.

"Talk to me. What is it, sweetie?" He asks, a gentle tone in his voice that you've rarely ever heard him use with anybody other than you.

"Menses" you replied, in a feeble voice through tears.

"You poor thing" sylus thinks to himself.

"Let me get you some painkillers" he says, laying you down. You grab the sleeve of his gray sweater just as he walked out of your reach, making him turn around.

"Stay with me. Please" you croaked.

Wordlessly, sylus slips under the sheets beside you, engulfing you in a hug, making you the smaller spoon.

His large hand is in your hair, massaging slowly, lulling you into sleep.

"Thank you" your voice comes out muffled as you snuggled further into his chest.

With the feeling of being in a safe embrace and under warm sheets, you finally dose off to sleep, the last thing you remember being sylus' lips as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

•°•°•°(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)•°•°•°•

When your eyes open, you don't know how much time has passed, but the first thing you acknowledge is the sheets beside you being empty; however they were still warm.

Sylus must have gotten up not so long ago.

Almost as if summoned by your thoughts, you turn to the doorway upon hearing something, and see sylus holding a tray of food.

Your heart melts at his sweet gesture.

"Here. Eat it all and don't forget your meds" he says, placing the tray on your lap.

You decide this isn't enough, "I'm weak all over, feed them to me?" You request, looking at sylus' face to read his expression.

You hear him chuckle, followed by a nod. He picks up the spoon and does as you asked.

The outcome? A few drops of soup spilled on your lap and some of it around your mouth. You smiled at how much effort he was putting into this, which turned into a giggle, which escalated into full-on laughter.

You notice the corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly, and you don't let it slip.

Never in a hundred years did sylus ever see himself taking care of someone, let alone make them feel so safe as to be vulnerable around him. Truly, you changed his life, for the better.

You wiped your mouth clean and didnt forget the painkillers, obviously.

"Rest. I called you in sick for tomorrow" Fuck. You felt like crying again. How can this man perceive himself as 'evil' or whatever the society labels him as? He's just a sensitive soul forced to harden up.

"You know my heart never truly rests without you beside me" you confess, Patting the space beside you, lifting the comforter for him to slip into.

You lay down, and so does he. The soft moonlight in the now dim room fell on his flawless face, it somehow made him look even prettier.

Silver light on his silver hair. You couldn't possibly resist the urge to pet his fluffy hair and so you did.

"Hmm. Keep doing that" Sylus purrs.

You hug him closer, and he rests his chin on the top of your head. Both of you drifting off to sleep once again.

Who would've thought, the feared leader of onichynus, who could have no trouble putting a bullet through one's head, be so vulnerable in his woman's arm?

[bunnisari]

Okay so, we’re obviously Connie’s very spoiled girlfriend

Reader had eyes on this really expensive bag that she’s been dying to have. She asked Plug!Connie and he has the audacity to tell us no, just to see how we’d react. Reader starts having a really nasty bratty attitude for a week and now daddy gotta set us straight 🫣

WARNINGS ✩ — squirting, smoking, sloppy messy blowjob, reader calls con daddy, reader is sensitive emotionally,rough sex, crying, handjob,overstimulation + just nasty stuff (may b a couple mistakes bc i didnt feel like re-reading imma do it later tho😭)

JEAN passed the blunt over to Connie, slightly shaking from coughing. Connie, who was sitting on Eren’s couch, shook his head as he scrolled through your ig story. “Swear this lil girl want me to fuck her shit up,” Connie mumbled as he hit the blunt.

Eren laughed from the floor, sitting in a bean bag. “What she do now?”

“She got a lil attitude with me because I told her not to let her fucking demon dog in the room anymore. So now she posting shit she know will make me mad” Connie passed his phone to Eren, letting him look at your story.

“You spoil that girl wayyy too much anyway,” Jean added.

“What you mean?” Connie asked with an attitude.

“She never listen to your ass because you say yes to everything she says. She literally gets whatever she wants from you.” Connie fights the urge to defend his spoiled princess but, Jean was making a point.

“I mean he did kinda do it to himself, not her” Eren passed the blunt to Jean.

“Bro you’re her bitch” Jean says in disbelief. “Shut yo long headed ass up. I am not her bitch” Connie defends himself, although a part of him agreed with Jean. Connie never really did put you in check unless it ended with angry sex. He was never super stern with, just letting you get by with everything.

But that was the way it was supposed to be. You were his spoiled little princess who always got what she wanted because she deserves it more than anyone.

“Just tell her no to see how she reacts”

Connie doesn’t give an answer, just contemplating on it.

“Ight”

“Isn’t she gorgeous baby just look” You practically shove your phone in Connie’s face. Connie looks at the pink purse. “I’ve been obsessing so bad and I neeedd it, please” Your glossy lips pout as you beg.

Connie furrowed his eyebrows, “Mhmm no I think you’re good.” You jerk your head back, trying to process that word, No.

You don’t have a great history with the word no.

“No y/n you can’t have this”

“No y/n you can’t have that”

Why would anyone deny you anything?

“What? Why! What did I do? Why not!?” You whined feeling the need to cry.

“You don’t exactly deserve it. You haven’t been good”Connie fought the urge to smile at you, such a crybaby. “What!? Baby I have what are you talking about?” You sat up, sitting on Connie’s lap.

“Your instagram stories, you keep going to parties I tell you not to go to. You needa get your act together” You gasped, offended that he was acting so nonchalant. He was basically telling you that he didn’t love you anymore.

“So until you fix your attitude then maybe, you can get it” Connie practically brushed you off and reached for his blunt. You sat there frozen for a minute, feeling betrayed and heartbroken.

“Okay Connie.” You said in a monotone voice before getting off of Connie and walking out of the room.

The rest of the week has been hell for Connie.

You had one of the worst attitudes ever, giving Connie silent treatment, short answers, and no sex.Were you trying to kill him?

In your point of view, you weren’t gonna stop until he apologized ( with an apology gift to go with ).

Connie walked in the house, hearing you blast “Me, Myself, and I” by Beyonce. Connie shook his head, obviously understanding the message.

“Baby!” Connie yelled from downstairs.

Meanwhile you sat at your vanity, fixing your hair. Connie opened the door to your beauty room, “You ain hear me calling you?” He asked while squinting his eyes at you. “I guess not.” Connie watched as you rolled your eyes.

Connie leaned on the door, poking his tongue against his cheek. “What’s yo problem?” He finally asked.

You stayed silent.

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” Connie said sternly.

“Nothing Connie” You stood up, fully showcasing your tight outfit.

“ where you goin” Connie looked you up and down, ignoring his boner and licking his lips.

You were wearing a tight denim mini skirt with baby tee, showing your boobs practically poking out the top. “Just going out” You grabbed your purse which Connie recognized it as a new one.

You had to buy it yourself since no charges came from Connie’s card and you’ve been avoiding him like crazy. Connie knew you were really mad if you start paying for your own stuff. You walked passed him, purposely hitting him with your purse and a small oops leaving your mouth.

Connie just smiled to himself, shaking his head. You were gonna sleep really good tonight.

“What I tell you about walking away from me mama?” Connie followed you to the living room. You didn’t answer, walking to the front door.

You stood a little shocked as Connie sat on the couch. He got pretty comfortable, reaching for his phone out of his pocket.

Just as you reached for the lock, “Y/N come sit down with me”

Your legs practically went numb as you heard the tone in Connie’s voice. He sounded very very stern which meant he was not in the mood to be fucked with.

Your boldness melted away. Your head immediately went down, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

You sat in the loveseat across from Connie, messing with your fishnets. “I said come sit with me Y/N” You didn’t hesitate to move the second he said your name.

Yeah he was pissed.

You walked over to Connie, his hand grabbing yours as he pulls you on his lap. You land on Connie’s muscular thigh, his hand immediately going to your inner thigh.

His touch felt good, your attention now focused on the feeling. His tatted fingers massaging your inner thigh.

“What’s yo problem? Didn’t even care to ask me how my day was,” Connie looked up at you as you stayed silent. A pinch was sent to your inner thigh, making you jump.

“I don’t have a problem Connie. I was just trying to have fun”

“Why you lying to me Y/N” Connie grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“You just made me upset and I-I just really wanted the bag” Connie’s thumb wiped against your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss.

“Instead of acting like a brat you should’ve told me that you were upset. I thought we agreed to talk like adults whenever we feel upset with eachother, not do this petty ass silent treatment shit.”

“I’m sorry Con” Your voice small and quiet out of guiltiness.

“I don’t believe you ma” Connie leaned back on the couch, removing his hands from your body.

You whined, missing his touch after you ignored him for days. “I really am daddy”

Connie almost folded at the pet name, fighting the urge to pound you into the couch until your makeup comes off but that could wait. He wanted to make you beg a little longer.

“I don’t believe you. Gonna show me how sorry you are hm?” You quickly nodded, taking place between his spread legs. Your hands immediately went for the band of his sweatpants, tugging them down with eagerness. Connie lifted up his hips, letting you pull down his boxers as well. His cock springing up against his stomach ( his name ain’t connie springer for no reasonnnn)

Your tongue ran up his balls, going all the way up to the tip. “Fuck” Connie mumbled to himself, it’s felt like forever since you’ve gave him a blowjob.

You hollowed your cheeks as you took him down to the base. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling him stuff your throat.

Your hands rested on the floor besides your knees, stabling yourself as you tried to breathe through your nose.

You gagged once you felt Connie buck his hips upwards. Connie’s hands went to your head, keeping you in place.

Your nose was flush against his lower stomach. Connie thrusted up into your mouth, groaning to himself. The more he looked down at you, the angrier he got.

How dare you ignore him and keep this pretty little mouth away from him. You could feel your scalp become sore from the deadly grip Connie had on it.

The sloppy sound of your gags and the wetness of your mouth filled the living room. The scene was so nasty and filthy, your saliva leaking all around Connie’s cock and your mouth.

Your hands tapped at Connie’s thighs. Connie lifted your head up, letting you breathe. Strings of spit connected from your mouth to Connie’s cock, making him groan.

You panted, feeling your sticky lip gloss all over your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out” Connie slowly stroked himself. You stuck your tongue out. Connie slapped his dick around your tongue, making your saliva drip down to your boobs. Connie rubbed his dick all over your lips before bringing it down to your chest.

“F-fuck” Connie moaned deeply. Your eyes watered, feeling so humiliated and used.

“You sorry baby?” Connie asked, slapping your wet cheek. A tear ran down your cheek, running black with your mascara. “Y-yes” You whimpered. Your hands twisted up and down his cock.

“ Gonna b-be g..good for me hm?” You stuck your tongue out, looking up at Connie. You watched as Connie pushed out a glob of spit, it landing on your tongue. You swallowed, Connie slapping your cheek once again. “Look at me ma” Your eyes locked with Connie’s before he pushed your head down on his dick again, moving your head up and down. You moaned lightly, causing a vibration to run through connie’s cock. “Make me c-c..ah..cum” Connie hissed, feeling your take him so deep. Connie could feel his stomach tightening , toes curling, and thighs clenching. “F-fuck baby” Connie pulled out of your mouth, ribbons of white cum squirting in your face. Connie winced as he rubbed his cum into your face with his tip, smearing it all over your lips (since you like lip gloss so much)

Your mascara ran down your face, making you look an absolute mess. a beautiful mess

“f-fuckfuckfuck m’sorry! i-im sorry daddy, i’m s-s..i’m so sorry” Your muffled cries fell on deaf ears, Connie continuing his brutal thrusts. He was fucking you so so so hard.

It hurt so bad but felt so good. Your legs went numb rounds ago and your body was a mess, covered in your own fluids mixed with Connie’s.

Your mouth was open, sending your screams into the silk white pillow. Connie hovered above you, holding onto the headboard as he slammed his hips into you. “F-fuck cum again” Connie ordered you, reaching between your legs to rub your swollen clit.

“I-i can’t-” You gasped out, on the verge of passing out. You gripped onto the cold pillows, trying to pull yourself up and away from his torture. Connie took notice of this and wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling you back.

“You are.” You heard Connie sternly mutter.

You whined, your hand reaching behind you to push Connie away only for Connie to grab both of your hands. He pinned them down on the deep arch in your back, absolutely churning your insides.

“I-i..i promise pa- m’not go..gonna act up anymore” You cried out, loosing all of your body strength.

You body physically went numb altogether, a rush of pleasure washes over you. Your legs shook violently. You let out a scream that you were not aware of, clenching hard on Connie’s cock.

“S-shit” Connie looked down, seeing you wet up his lower body

(“they told me to stay out that water park😔” - future baby daddy connie with his five kids tackling him)

The pressure pushed Connie’s cock out of you, causing him to paint your ass with white ribbons.

Connie took a moment to breathe before he moved from above you, your breathing was now steady and you laid flush into the bed.

Connie squinted his eyes, slowly turning your face. No way this girl is sleep right now I ain done

“Baby...Baby…..Baby” Connie shook your body, waking you up. You whined, going right back to that bratty attitude that Connie loved oh so much.

“Whattt” You were so exhausted, moving was not an option right now.

After a much needed bath, you fell right asleep with just a bra and panties on. You were knocked out, sleeping all the way until 12 pm.

You woke up to just you in the bed, your house ringing silence. (Marshmallow is at a doggy hotel getting groomed #materialgworl💅) Instead of waking up to Connie’s presence you woke up to a box with a note on top of it.

‘Had to leave early and handle some business with Ony, I’ll be back before you know it. Thank me later sexy’

You sat the note aside before taking the top off of the pink box, only to see the very purse the got you in this situation to begin with.

[lulunothulu]

“Picture Proof”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: when you see there’s been an accident on one of Jake’s missions, you beg him to send you proof he’s alive.

Contents: talks of death, but mainly just worry/anxiety and fluff

‘Reports have said that there has been significant damage to the pilot and their jet. No names have been given but we will keep this situation updated. This has been…’ ‘Multiple sources have told us that the pilot is at the hospital in critical conditions—’

You stare at the TV screen, eyes going foggy with tears.

There was an accident. A pilot got caught in a bird strike, their jet went down. Jake was supposed to be flying this morning. What if it was him?

Jake is fine. He has to be.

You couldn’t stop the tears from coming. Everything in your heart told you Jake was fine but until you heard from him, you wouldn’t know for sure.

Pulling your phone out, you text: Jake, please text or call me when and if you see this.

Two hours pass and still no word from Jake. You’re shaking at this point, trying to keep yourself from driving to base and walking to his normal hangar. Worry fills the pit of your stomach when you haven’t heard from him another two hours later.

You started praying by the end of those four hours. You weren’t one to pray, but you were now.

“God,” you cry. “Please don’t let it be him. Let him come back to me. Please.”

———

You were pacing now, Jake hadn’t texted or called you back in six hours and your mind was already trying to accept the fact that he might’ve been the pilot that went down.

Heart pounding, hands sweating, and mind racing, you text him again.

Jake, please PLEASE text or call me back when and if you see this. I love you.

Your vision blurs when you see the iPhone blue bubble turn green. Nononono. Please don’t have taken him.

A son chokes through your clenched jaw as you drop to the floor, hands on your temples to hold in some of the sobs. You feel a guttural scream erupting from your chest but you stay silent.

“The navy would’ve sent someone to the house if it was Jake,” you tried to reason. “Jake is fine.”

You smile to yourself, begging yourself to believe it.

“Jake is fine, he’s just busy doing pilot shit.”

You take a deep breath before squeezing your eyes but and nodding softly.

“Jake is—”

The text chime scares you out of finishing that sentence and on your phone screen you see a text from Jake.

Without skipping a beat, you unlock your phone and read his text.

Hi baby, I’m just now seeing this. We were in the air longer because of a flight gone wrong. I love you too.

Relief washes over you and you’re sobbing again. You clutch your phone close to your chest, sobbing even harder when you reread his text to you.

You: Send me proof you’re okay.

It takes a second, but Jake sends you a selfie. He’s in his flight suit and gear, hair unruly and eyes relaxed, mouth slightly apart. Behind him, the huge American flag inside the hangar.

You smile down at his picture and half sob and laugh when he adds:

Still looking hot as ever, aren’t I? ;)

When you don’t respond right away, his caller ID fills your screen. You answer and hiccup, “Hello?”

“Darlin’,” he drawls. “I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

“You’re glad?” You laugh, wiping your tears away. “I was terrified it was you that got caught in that bird strike. When you didn’t call or text me…”

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I couldn’t text you right away because Mav wanted everyone accounted for and then Cyclone wanted to have an emergency formation…it was a mess. I only now just got released.”

“Okay,” you say, choking back a sob.

“Darlin’?” Jake says in the other side of the phone. “Y/N, talk to me.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” you croak. “I’m so fucking glad you’re alright.”

“I am too,” he tells you. “I’ll be home in a few minutes, okay? We can cuddle and watch some of your girly movies tonight.”

You sniffle and nod. “Okay baby.”

“Okay,” he says, you can practically hear him smile. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Now, as a man who may have gotten hurt today, you better take that back.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Never.”

Short and sweet but still effective 🥹