#sometimes maybe mix them who knows

[smimon]

Käärijätober day 3: Tiny

En oo mikää korsto eli lontooks no biggie mut voit odottaa mult suurii

Mitä pienempää koiraa sitä suurempaa suuta mä mielummi nostan volumia ku oon suu kii

[wutheringmights]

Off anon, Long ask ahead.

Serious: When my friend first sent CTB to me, I read the first two chapters. Then I abandoned it. A long while later. I remembered I never read it. Thought, “Well let’s give it one more chance, it might surprise me.” Man, oh man did it. I got to the Ear-piercing scene and was hooked. The dread I felt throughout the past sections. Just knowing Something terrible was going to happen and they were going to stop being friends, brothers. When Spirit discovered Warriors had been lying about the light spirits. I thought that was it. But Then It Wasn’t. and that was so much worse. In a good way. Defying expectations. The neck scene. Changed the whole game. Went from, “I’ve got stop projecting onto these characters. Obviously, the author didn’t mean for me to interpret it like That.” To, “Holy Shit I am So Awesome and good at subtext.” Very good. I did not notice the underlining theme about hands until it was Too Late. Went back and looked at previous chapters. Oh my god it was so obvious. Of course, now I am intentionally looking for foreshadowing. Which might also cause problems. I am noticing Drowning coming up A Whole Lot. So, worries. Went back and reread the first two chapters after I finished reading and was punched in the face by how much I missed. I was mainly compelled by the past sections. In part because there were fewer characters and thus it was easier for me to understand. The first time the present sections really got me was when Warriors found Wind with the journal. I was so scared for him. And the next chapter did not disway my fears. I cannot properly explain the way I felt when reading. Every so often I would feel the most amazing sense of dread while reading. And it compelled me. You wove such complicated feelings into this story. I so desperately wish I was better at explaining emotions, just so that I can tell you how I felt while reading. But god. I can find myself in some way in Spirit, The child, and Warriors. It’s so incredible.

The dread I felt during Scenes like, the entirety of chap 14 or the build up to The child’s departure. Is rivaled only by the Horror I felt when the Minish showed up in chapter 16. I actually had to stop reading for a moment because I was so scared. I don’t know why.

Silly: Don’t worry, I’ve already ‘fought’ my friend. When the name twilight came up, I genuinely thought it was twilight sparkle from my little pony. I very quickly scrolled back up to look at the character tags (I did not look at any of the tags before reading, big mistake.) when the minish first came up, I felt such a primal sense of fear. I can’t even explain it. I thought I was getting by fine. Then A Creature showed up and my gosh. I had to stop reading for a minute and prepare myself because I was just SO scared. Though I have to say that by far the scariest moment when reading, was the slow dreading realization that every single character was blonde. Horrifying. I keep getting Wind and Wild mixed up. It’s causing problems. It took me so long to realize Time was the child. I was so dead set on the theory that Time was an older Warriors. It made sense at the time. Speaking of Warriors. I keep thinking of him with facial hair. which is funny because he is constantly described with a clean-shaven face. And I kept forgetting. I have to wax him in my brain every few minutes. Legend is flipflopping in my brain from, I think I know what game he’s from, to, emo teen. I no longer know how old any character is. I do not trust my perception of age. I thought 'old man' Time was in his Sixties, I thought he had fully gray hair. NOPE! Another blonde boy! I knew of exactly two legend of Zelda games. Original legend of Zelda, and Tears of the Kingdom (and super smash bros. if that counts???). I think perhaps this is causing problems. When Lana got mad at Warriors for spreading rumors about her and Time. I remember thinking, “That’s kind of an overreaction.” And then I went back and reread that that chapter and GET HIS FUCKING ASS LANA. I am now a Lana apologist.

Spirit is just continuously playing the “Hate” monologue from, “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream,” in his head (Me, projecting again). This is very disjointed. Thank you.

Going into this story with nothing but Tears of the Kingdom, the original LOZ, and Super Smash Bros to guide you is a feat. I have friends who are more well-versed in Zelda lore, and they do not understand what is going on.

I am both impressed and terrified. I still think you should fight your friend.

Nonetheless, I'm really happy that you enjoyed the story-- especially the past sections. The past is always the hardest to write, and it's really nice to know that you were so deeply invested in it. I'm really happy that you found it compelling and dread-inducing. Truly, thank you <3

Also, Spirit having the hate monologue on loop in his brain is the funniest take on the character. No notes.

[sparrownnax]

anyways sometimes i wonder if i'm meant to be connected with people. don't get me wrong i appreciate my friends, but like my quality of life wouldn't go down too much if i hadn't met them. i like digging information out of people. they lose a lot of appeal once i know too much about them. i don't really have any kind of interest in pursuing any kind of relationship with people, romantic or platonic. i could take people or leave them. dunno

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.

It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????

[imaginarianisms]

1 day i will make a meta of sansa's dynamic with her metaphorical champions/suitors & how that correlates to the ashford theory (i.e sansa being betrothed to joffrey baratheon, then promised to willas tyrell, then being married to tyrion lannister, then being married to harry hardying then married to aegon vi targaryen & aurane velaryon but it is not this day. lmao. when i make that meta it'll be so over for y'all.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

"yuri lowell is a manly heterosexual"

yuri lowell:

[n9ph]

[mrfoox]

Another one of those ... 'i' ve been lucky' but... Having ASD really makes you easier to manipulate and use and I feel I've been fortune to not have come across anyone who have done such to me...

[princesspeach5]

twitter adding a massive amount of completely random (and often negative or upsetting) tweets to the for you page and removing the context for why relevant tweets are there and instagram actually removing posts from your feed after you've seen them so it can say "you're all caught up" and show you posts from people you don't follow have rendered both almost unusable

[phagodyke]

ahh.. I have tickets for a small music festival tmr which I went to last year + had a whale of a time but this year theres only like 2 artists I wanted to see but they released the schedule a couple days ago and neither are playing before 9:30pm. since I don't live local anymore I'd have to leave to travel back home around that time or I'd miss the last train... and there's not rly anywhere I can crash overnight there (and I was planning on going alone anyway like I did last year). so I think im gonna have to let this one pass me by :-(

[bmpmp3]

i NEEED to be more annoying about being mixed race in public i keep forgetting how dire it is. sometimes i point out stuff in like visual culture classes about like a magazine cover with a biracial model or something and it blows peoples MINDS because the whole class forgot mixed people were real

[ghostlywhiskey]

pen pal simon - original post

every day after work, you found yourself sat at your desk attempting to write back a response to the soldier who referred to himself as ‘ghost’. crumpled up stationary surrounded your desk space, along with different types of pens as you obsessed over your handwriting. if one letter of your penmanship looked wrong, the paper would become another ball added to the collection of half written letters that contained slightly different, if not the same, wording in response to the thank you letter from ghost.

the simple questions he asked to get to know you suddenly felt like the hardest questions to answer, as if you were being graded on the facts about yourself. was he going to find your hobbies boring? maybe your hobbies were boring the more you read your response. the easiest question to answer was regarding how long you had been doing the care packages - a few years since one of your friends had a significant other that joined the military. stories often mixed with people who received packages and cards from family members frequently, but the ones where some received little to none are the ones that made you upset. so, you had decided to explain that to ghost and it was probably the easiest response of them all to write out. not single moment did the pen leave the paper for you to collect your thoughts or how to word your answer.

but then, you continued to answer the questions he asked you, and in return you asked him similar or different ones. again, you weren’t positive he would reply this time around, but you figured you’d still return the gesture of asking him questions as well. and when you finished writing it all, reading through it god only knows how many times for errors, you finally slipped it into an envelope. this time, no ‘treats’ were included, instead you had opted to ask him if he had any favorites, that way if he did end up writing you back then you could buy him what he preferred.

and after you mailed out the letter, you pushed the thought of it to the side to try and forget about it. but, you couldn’t deny every time you arrived home and checked the mail you were secretly hoping there was a response. but then a few weeks went by and there really was no response waiting mixed in with your other mail.

then after almost two months, after a shit day at work, you didn’t even think twice as you grabbed the mail and walked into your home. going through the motions of your routine - showering, cooking dinner and anything else you had to take care of, you finally sat at the counter towards the end of the night to sort through the mail. a small card was tucked between a bunch of other trash mail, your eyes immediately recognizing the handwriting. quickly, you opened up the envelope and sure enough, that same notebook paper was tucked into it, this time three pieces of paper unfolded in your hands. 

..it’s been quite hectic over where i’m currently at, so sorry for the lack of my responding…

...i’m a bit upset of the lack of treats, it definitely beats what we have to eat sometimes.

the reason you do the packages is quite sweet. is your friends’ partner still alive? you use the past tense when you speak of them. sorry if that is rude to ask.

you read every word of the letter, not once, but twice. and he didn’t just read your response to his, he took notice of the small details. you didn’t even realize you had used the past tense, but he wasn’t wrong in his assumption either when he thought they might have passed. it was like reading a full blown conversation he had to himself in his head; the way before or after some sentences, he would write out interjections. some sentences were followed by parentheses where he made his own little comment as well about what he had just written.

again, i hope you forgive my delayed response. hope it doesn’t stop you from writing back. don’t always have the time, but promise i’ll get back to you. maybe in your next letter you can send me a picture of yourself, i think it would be nice to put a face to the name that signs off on these. i can’t do the same, but i’ll find a way to make up for that. ‘til the next letter, ghost.

and while you didn’t get started writing your response that night, you did make your way to your room with a smile on your face. excitement was already brewing about what you would say in your response and the next anticipated response he would give back, even if he did take a bit to respond.

[gghostwriter]

Three's a Sideshow

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer misses an important date and ends up paying the consequences Trope:Angst w.c: 4.2k a/n: this is one of the many many requests of @lavonee (her exact request was: maybe spencer misses an important date/anniversary because of jj and reader is finally fed up being second place to her) trying my best to address all of them. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The hazy dim light of each candle on the white linen covered table gave the restaurant an orange hue. Various aromas of meat, wine, and complimentary cheese wafted through the enclosed space. Sensual tones of the saxophone lightly played on the speakers perfectly weave through each muted conversations between loved ones—couples and families. The high-end restaurant basked in good food and great company. 

Everything was perfect.

Every costumer joyous and warm from the delicious wine. 

All except for one, alone by the corner booth, phone pressed to your ear and eyes scanning for the tall, lithe form of the date for the night.

Beep. Beep. Be—

You grimaced at the busy line tone that answered you, again. Hands gripping the draped linen, trying your best not to tap your newly manicured fingers on the table—trying to blend into the background, unsuccessfully. 

You stuck out like a sore thumb. All dressed up with no partner or food on the table, just a glass of once chilled wine—condensation all around it like tears of abandonment and longing. 

The same waitress who escorted you to the table—15 minutes ago, approached with a perfectly rehearsed smile.

“Ma’am, are we ready to order?”

You sighed. “Actually, my boyfriend isn’t here yet—”

She bit her lip, nodding, before quickly averting her eyes to the queued up line outside the premise.

Right. It was a Friday night and every adult in the vicinity wanted a night out to unwind and start their weekend on the right foot.

You tightly smiled, the embarrassment of tonight painting your cheeks a deep maroon, unnoticed through the flickering of the orange candlelight. “—you know what, I think I’d just have a slice of your chocolate cake to go. Yeah, I’m sorry about holding up the table.”

The waitress nodded, understanding washing on her face. “That’s alright. I’ll have your order packed and ready to go.”

“Thanks,” you murmured as you watched her leave. 

Tonight was suppose to be special. 

You dressed up in the same white with purple printed flower midi length dress, styled your hair effortlessly, and spritzed on your favorite perfume that smelled like a luscious garden after a rainy night.

Everything was just like how it was two weeks ago—including your boyfriend of three years, Spencer Reid, not showing up for the date.

You didn’t even know why you bothered. Why his promise of being here tonight made you feel giddy and trusting. Why his commitment on having do-over for the actual anniversary dinner that he missed two weeks ago made you think it was going to end differently and why you gave him another chance—

Another chance to let you down.

Another crack in your belief that you were important.

Another heartache to soothe.

Another let down. 

When you first entered the relationship, you understood the gravity of his work. How his career will always come first and how unpredictable it all may be.

That part—accepting those facts, were easy. You were always one to be tolerant and understanding ever since childhood, labeled as the easy kid—the independent, the self-sufficient. Mixed in with your highly demanding career as a doctor, you got it—the patience and consideration of a saint.

A martyr, your good friend once bluntly said. 

But what good was being a martyr when the person you’re killing yourself for didn’t notice?

It didn’t matter at first. Missed messages, missed calls, missed dates were just a work of rotten timing from both ends. Sometimes it was you having to run to the hospital for an emergency surgery and sometimes it was him having to catch a plane to a latest serial killer case.

The tandem of both independent and busy people in the relationship worked, love blossomed regardless.

What made it different was, there was three of you in the relationship.

The third party being an intense platonic, as he once defended, connection with Her.

You felt it for the first time during a get together with his found family. Your set of eyes trained to read in between the lines for the truth patients unwittingly hide from their doctor. It was a skill that you honed and never hated, up until that moment.

The stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking.

The emotion veiled between the eyes.

The unsaid words that seemed to spill from the silence.

Never mind that there were two presences in the vicinity that could have their life altered in any minute from the secrets long hidden in vaults. It was as if you and her husband were considered ornaments, pieces of a possible aftermath not worth saving. 

You knew of their past—Spencer admitting to having a crush on her during his early days with the team, asking her out on a baseball game date, and her recent admission during a case.

Everything was water under the bridge, your boyfriend assured you. But the thing was, water had a way of overflowing from confinement, turning deadly, and ravaging what once was an idyllic garden that bloomed from your affection. 

Now as you pay for the tab and collect your things, you felt the tides that destroyed the solace inside of you well up to your eyes—wanting the release you’re fighting to keep at bay.

A fight you’re bound to lose.

You whispered a thank you to the waitress, soft and quiet that you were unsure if she even heard it but that was the best you could do, the sobs closing your vocal chords and threatening to escape, making you a spectacle—leaving the restaurant alone, with a boxed cake on hand.

What a sad sight.

You fumbled with the phone again, hands shaking as you insert the key on the ignition.

Beep. Beep. Be—

Nothing. 

What even was the point of all of this, you wondered. All this emotion, love, that was once sweet and heavenly now all felt rotten, puss oozing from its pores and flies exalting for a feast. 

Slowly backing your black 4-door sedan out of the parking lot, you pondered if this was the end—did you have any more left to give? Or was this just a bump on the road for the your future selves to learn and heartily laugh about? 

———

The rattling of your keys as you dropped it on the ceramic plate across the main door disrupted the silent, empty apartment.

A small smile graced your face as you remembered spontaneously booking a ceramic wheel class with Spencer in tow. His initial worries about getting under the nails dirty and the bacteria that could be collected from any stranger that used the items before the both of you swept away with your giggles and assurances to double up on vitamins. 

There was a wide grin on his face then, accepting defeat from the sight of your enthusiasm and glee. 

It was one of your greatest memory with Spencer and when the glazed pottery came from the mail—yours, a wonky blue green plate and his, an uneven moss green bowl, you had him promise to take you again.

A promise that never came to fruition.

You sighed, eyes tracking the rented space you never quite moved in to. The walls painted this dark green color, reflecting the somber mood you frequently found yourself in and the shelves filled to the brim with books you never dream of reading.

in hindsight, maybe your subconscious was telling you something. Why you never agreed to Spencer’s casual asking of you to live with him. Why you were adamant of keeping your own apartment regardless of the nights you spent outside of it.

This place became your pseudo-home, comfortable but never quite permanent. 

The distant murmur of a car being parked on the street had you clambering up from your defeated, slouched position on the leather couch. In your gut, you knew who it was.

You spotted them exiting the SUV.

The two figures that make the relationship three—a sideshow for everyone to see.

Spencer and JJ. 

They talked for a bit, probably saying pleasantries of goodbyes, before she leaned in for a hug. One that he reciprocated, patting her back as he went. 

They looked like a couple and if you were in your right state of mind, you’d chalk the exchange up to nothing but you weren’t—you were wounded and unsure of your standing ever since you exited the restaurant.

Were you his first still?

Or were you just second place? 

They were questions you never wanted no, needed, to be addressed but it seemed like tonight was the night of reckoning.

As you watched Spencer enter the apartment, the smile on his face from spotting you slowly become a furrow between his brows, you fidgeted—pulling the coat tighter to your body, the one you never hung on the back of the door—ready to bolt.

“Love, I’m so sorry I missed our reservation—”

He went in for a kiss on your glossy lips. 

A simple act that you didn’t have the energy to accept, you turned your head to the side. His lips catching your cheek instead.

“It’s fine,” you sardonically replied. “It wasn’t like I was waiting for you for half an hour to show up. It’s fine, Spencer.” 

His brow twitched. 

“It sounds like it’s not fine. Why don’t you tell me what you really feel? We promised to openly communicate, didn’t we?”

You huffed, throwing your hands up in the air. “I said it’s fine, Spencer. Why don’t you give it a rest?”

“You look beautiful,” his calloused fingers gently caressing your hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t show. It’s just that JJ and the tea—”

Your last thread of reason snapped clean from hearing her name.

“It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it? Me coming after her?”

“Love.”

“Don’t touch me—don’t call me that,” you pushed his hands away, tucking the escaped tendrils behind your ears. 

His own, raking the wavy brown hair you loved, in frustration. You could tell, with how his hands opened and closed, that he was itching to touch you, comfort you. 

“Her? You mean, JJ? She’s a friend. Just a friend.” 

“And if this friend wasn’t married with kids, would you still be here with me now?”

Silence. 

There, you said it.

“What—yes, yes of course. Why would you ask that? Why would you doubt it? Doubt me?”

Your gut twisted inside of you. It was inconceivable for someone like Spencer to lie, wasn’t it? He was a good guy, one of the best. But all the hidden resentment in your heart—a pile you weren’t even aware of, no longer wanted to be silenced. It no longer wanted to be pushed to the side for optimism and denial. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Maybe it’s the way you look at her—” voice raising up an octave. You’ve lost control, verbally dumping out everything. “Do you think I don’t see it? You look at her with this, this nostalgia and—and this emotion that I can’t compare to—never seen it when you look at me! Or maybe, maybe it’s because you drop everything for her? Including me?”

“Are you talking about when Henry got sick?” his hands finding a home on his hips. “I thought you understood—you of all, should have.”

Your laughter turned into a sob. “I do—I did, until you dropped me of unceremoniously back here, in this apartment, just so you could rush out to her home. Like I was some kind of secret, you didn’t want to bring around her. Like I was some sort of disease, you didn’t want her catching. Didn’t you think I would be of great help? A licensed medical doctor?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight—I thought you, you shouldn’t be exposed to the type of flu Henry contracted. You could have gotten sick too and could have passed it on to your other patients.”

“It’s my job to take care of the sick, don’t you think I take measures for my own health? Spencer, please, for once just be honest with me.”

He tilted his head. “Honest about what?”

“If it’s her you really want and if I’m just a passable substitute to settle down with.”

You could see his eyes blazing with such—disgust? Anger? You didn’t know what emotion it was before it was snuffed out, leaving his expression blank and almost sad. It was a look you were familiar with, his profiler look.

“I don’t need you profiling me and my insecurities, Spencer. I just want the truth. The God-honest truth.” 

“I love you. I can’t imagine a life without you—I won’t imagine it. Isn’t that enough?”

Your hands drop to your side.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

The distance created by the silence between you and Spencer was vast. You’ve never felt quite alone and isolated in the relationship until this moment. Was this it, then? The end to your once dreamed of happy ever after? 

“I’m sorry I missed the dinner. Why don’t you let me make it up to you? We can book the same restaurant for next week and—”

“You can’t just make up for a make up anniversary dinner, that’s not how it works in real life, Spencer. And besides, I don’t want to see the same pitying looks the workers there give me when they realize my date is again, and again, a no-show.”

He sighed, slowly invading your space. The arms that once felt like home to you, circling your waist, now felt foreign. You never imagined you’d get here but then again, who did? 

Your hands clasped his button down before loosening its grip. Taking in one more whiff of his cedar-wood and mint perfume, you pushed him away. Stepping backwards from his presence and all he had to offer.

“It’s late. We’re both tired—”

He nervously smiled. Intertwining his fingers with yours and started to walk backwards to the direction of the bedroom. “Yeah, we can talk about it in the morning once you feel better.”

You wiggled your hand free.

“Actually, I think I have to go.”

Spencer paused, panic coloring his face. “That’s—that’s not what I meant, love. Anything but that. Please, please I love you and I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Spence. Me too.” 

You slowly gathered your things, sans the chocolate cake left opened and untouched on the coffee table. 

“Happy anniversary, I need space to think this all through—to think us through.”

He stood still, blocking your way, trying to wrap his head around the direction this was going to. The inevitable downfall of him and you. It was a car crash no one could no longer escape from. 

“Please, let me fix this. I can do it, just—tell me how. Do you want me to limit my time spent with JJ? I-I can try, just please, don’t leave me.”

It wasn’t a promise, you noted. With how many broken promises there were between the span of your relationship, you wondered if that was a conscious choice of wording from him. It sounded hopeful, gleaming with oath even. But they were just words at the end of the day, packaged pretty for you to swallow.

“I need time, Spencer. I’m not breaking up with you, I just need space,” you placed a kiss on his cheek, wet from tears. “Can you give me that, love?”

He choked a sob. 

“Promise me you’ll be back. Promise me.”

You tightly smiled, making your way back to the door. The unanswered plea hanging in the air like a blade, waiting to slash down between you—waiting to sever the connection that was once shiny and new. 

Shakily removing the spare key of the apartment from your chain, you chanced one last look at his hunched form—sobs emitting from his sweet lips and acid rain spilling down his cherub cheeks, regretting that this might be your last memory of Spencer Reid.

You didn’t know if you’d be back. 

If the thought of being second place will ever go away.

But the sinking feeling in your gut tells you the truth—that this is it.

This is final.

This is the end. 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[xo100]

A summer to remember - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando, Y/N, and their daughter Isla enjoy a perfect summer vacation filled with love, beach fun, and yacht adventures.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2388

୨ৎ

It was a beautiful summer morning, and the sun was already casting its golden glow over the peaceful coastline. The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore could be heard through the open windows of the cozy villa where Lando Norris, his wife, and their one-year-old daughter, Isla, were spending their vacation. It was a much-needed break from Lando's hectic Formula 1 schedule, and he was determined to make the most of every second with his little family.

Inside the villa, the sweet scent of fresh pastries filled the air as Y/N was busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Isla was sitting in her highchair, her big, curious eyes watching her mom move around, while her tiny hands held onto a small stuffed bear that she never seemed to let go of. Lando, fresh from a shower, entered the kitchen with a content smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his two favorite girls.

“Morning, love,” he murmured, stepping up behind Y/N and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re up early. Didn’t think we’d need to be up so soon on holiday.”

Y/N smiled, leaning back into him as she flipped a pancake. “Well, someone woke up hungry,” she said, glancing over at Isla, who was babbling happily to her bear. “Besides, it’s too beautiful outside to waste the day.”

Lando hummed in agreement, his chin resting on Y/N's shoulder as he watched her cook. “You’re right. What’s the plan today, then? What amazing adventure are we going on?”

Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could start with a beach day. Just us, some sand, and the ocean. Maybe build a sandcastle with Isla. She’s been dying to get her hands in the sand.”

Lando grinned, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He loved the thought of spending the day on the beach with his family, especially if it meant seeing Isla’s face light up with excitement. “That sounds perfect,” he said, stealing a quick kiss before letting her go. “But I think we should add something extra later. How about a yacht ride this afternoon? I’ve already got one booked for us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “A yacht? Seriously, Lando?”

“Of course,” he replied with a cocky smile, giving her a playful wink. “Figured we’d sail off into the sunset like in the movies. You know, champagne in hand, wind in our hair… or at least, your hair. Isla and I don’t have much of that,” he teased, running a hand through his slightly damp hair for emphasis.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re too much sometimes, Norris.”

Lando winked. “And you love it.”

Isla, hearing her dad’s voice, squealed excitedly, her little arms reaching out towards him. Lando’s expression softened instantly as he scooped her up from the highchair and spun her around, her giggles filling the kitchen. “There’s my girl!” he said, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Ready for a fun day with Mum and Dad?”

Isla giggled in response, her tiny hand grabbing onto Lando’s shirt, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. Lando’s heart melted, as it did every time he looked at his daughter. She was the perfect mix of both him and Y/N—her sparkling eyes and infectious laughter were all her mother, while the little dimple in her cheek and the mischievous glint in her eye were pure Lando.

-

After breakfast, the three of them headed down to the beach, which was only a short walk from the villa. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the ocean stretched out in front of them, glittering under the morning sun. It was the kind of picture-perfect day that made it hard to believe anything else existed beyond this little slice of paradise.

Lando carried Isla on his hip, holding her tiny hand as she stared wide-eyed at the ocean for the first time. Her mouth formed a little "o" of wonder as the gentle breeze tousled her soft hair. “Look at that, Isla,” Lando said, pointing towards the waves. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just like your mum.”

Y/N, who had been spreading out a blanket, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Lando’s words. “Flatterer,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. No matter how long they’d been together, Lando always knew how to make her heart skip a beat.

Once everything was set up, Y/N and Lando took turns playing with Isla in the sand, helping her dig little holes and attempting to build a sandcastle that mostly ended up in a pile of mush, thanks to Isla’s enthusiastic hands. Lando pretended to be frustrated as Isla gleefully knocked over the little towers he was trying to make. “Isla, love, I’m trying to build a masterpiece here,” he said in mock seriousness, though his grin gave him away.

Isla just giggled, grabbing another handful of sand and letting it slip through her tiny fingers. Y/N watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. There was something so pure and beautiful about the way Lando interacted with their daughter. He was playful, patient, and so incredibly gentle with her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was. Both of them were.

-

After a few hours of playing in the sand and dipping their toes in the water, it was time for Isla’s nap. Y/N and Lando packed up their things and headed back to the villa, where Isla quickly fell asleep in her crib, her little face peaceful and content.

With their daughter sound asleep, Y/N and Lando had a rare moment of quiet together. They sat out on the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Lando stretched out on the lounge chair next to her, his hand lazily tracing circles on her leg. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice low and relaxed. “Just the two of us for a bit.”

Y/N smiled softly, leaning back in her chair as she gazed out at the ocean. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s nice to just… be. No distractions, no schedules. Just us.”

Lando turned his head to look at her, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of love and admiration that always made her stomach flutter. “You know,” he said quietly, his fingers gently brushing her skin, “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I love you. How much I appreciate everything you do for Isla and me.”

Y/N’s breath caught slightly at the sincerity in his voice. She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with emotion. “Lando…”

“No, really,” he insisted, sitting up a little. “I don’t say it enough. You’re incredible, Y/N. The way you love our daughter, the way you take care of us… You make everything feel so effortless, and I just—I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, smiling softly at him. “I love you too, Lando. More than you know.”

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, the world fading away.

-

Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Lando, Y/N, and Isla boarded the yacht that Lando had arranged. It was a sleek, beautiful boat, and as they set off into the open water, the breeze ruffling their hair, it felt like something out of a dream.

Isla was fascinated by the gentle rocking of the boat, her little hands gripping the edge of the railing as she watched the water with wide eyes. Lando stood behind her, his hands on either side of hers, keeping her steady while whispering little words of encouragement. “Look at that, baby girl. Isn’t it amazing? Just like flying, huh?”

Y/N watched them from her seat, her heart swelling with affection for the two of them. There was something so undeniably sweet about seeing Lando with Isla. He was a natural father, always knowing how to make her smile, always there to comfort her when she was upset.

As the yacht sailed further out, Lando eventually scooped Isla up and carried her back to Y/N, sitting down next to her and cuddling Isla between them. The three of them sat together, watching the sun slowly sink into the horizon, casting a golden-orange glow over the water.

“This is perfect,” Y/N whispered, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder as she cradled Isla in her arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Lando smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me either,” he murmured. “This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the love in his eyes. “You mean that?”

He looked down at her, his expression serious but filled with so much warmth. “I do. You and Isla… you’re my world, Y/N. Everything I do, it’s for you two. And I’ll never stop loving you, not for a second.”

Her breath caught at his words, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and sweet.

The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the weight of Lando’s words settling between them like the most beautiful promise. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as the world seemed to pause for just a moment. Isla, nestled between them, was quietly playing with Lando’s fingers, completely content in the embrace of her parents.

“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of emotion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

Lando smiled, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I know, love,” he murmured. “I feel it every single day.”

They sat there for a long while, the boat gently swaying with the rhythm of the sea, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon. Isla eventually dozed off in Y/N’s arms, her tiny body relaxing completely, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only sound breaking the peaceful silence.

Lando looked down at his daughter, his heart nearly bursting at the sight. He reached out to lightly stroke her hair, his touch so gentle it was almost reverent. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. “How did we get so lucky?”

Y/N smiled down at Isla, her heart swelling with love for the little girl in her arms. “We did get lucky,” she agreed softly. “She’s everything.”

Lando’s gaze shifted from Isla to Y/N, his expression softening even further. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I think you’ve told me that about a hundred times today.”

“Well, I mean it. Every time,” he teased, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re stuck with me, Norris, so I’m gonna remind you as often as I can.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Y/N whispered against his lips before kissing him back.

As the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky fading into a soft twilight, they decided to head back to the villa. Lando took Isla from Y/N’s arms, cradling their sleeping daughter as they made their way back to the dock. The boat ride back was quiet, peaceful, the gentle hum of the engine and the lapping of the water lulling them into a contented silence.

-

When they reached the villa, Lando carefully carried Isla to her room, tucking her into bed with the same care and tenderness he always showed. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile on her face, her heart full as she took in the sight of Lando, who had once been the carefree, fast-driving boy, now a devoted father and partner.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to Isla’s forehead before pulling the blanket up around her tiny body. He stood for a moment, just watching her sleep, his heart filled with a deep sense of contentment. Finally, he turned to Y/N, slipping his hand into hers as they quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.

Once back in their bedroom, Y/N flopped onto the bed with a happy sigh, stretching her arms above her head. Lando followed, lying down beside her and propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. “So,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What’s the verdict? Best day ever?”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement. “I’d say it’s definitely up there,” she teased. “But tomorrow might just top it.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have planned for tomorrow?”

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Whatever it is, as long as I’m with you and Isla, it’s already perfect.”

Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the love and promise they’d built over the years. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N curled into Lando’s side, her head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.

“Thank you for today,” Y/N murmured, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. “It was perfect.”

Lando kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. For you and Isla, I’d do anything.”

With that, they fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves outside their window lulling them to sleep. As Lando drifted off, his heart full and his arms wrapped around the woman he loved, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

And as the stars twinkled above, casting their soft light over the peaceful villa, one thing was certain: this summer, this moment, would be one they’d cherish forever.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! I’m currently writing part three of baking cookies! I hope to finish it soon and upload it soon!

[rafecameronssl4t]

How about Pope/JJ having a crush on Topper’s younger sister which is also Rafe’s girl and him making sure he knows his place and the fact that she’s his girl. Maybe she’s the island sweetheart and she’s nice to everyone, and sometimes she hangs out with the pogues (despite her brother and boyfriend hating that) and Rafe noticed how the boy looks at her and decides to put on a little show to prove she’s his girl 🫣����

Get in losers, we’re going shopping || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: This was so fun to write thank u for the request 🫶

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, possesive/jealous!rafe, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,837

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board

As you drive along, a smile creeps across your face when you notice JJ and Pope walking on the side of the road. You slow your car, matching their pace, which causes them to exchange puzzled glances before coming to a halt.

Rolling down your window, you lift your sunglasses, locking eyes with the two boys. Their confusion quickly shifts to recognition, and a mix of surprise and curiosity spreads across their faces.

“Hey boys,” you greet them with a smile. “Oh—hey, y/n,” Pope stammers, making you giggle. “This your new car?” JJ asks, patting the sleek Porsche. You hum in response, “want a ride?” you offer sweetly.

The boys exchange a quick glance before sprinting to the passenger side, shoving each other. In the end, Pope manages to snag the seat, and you laugh at their antics.

“I’ll sugar momma you guys today,” you wink at them, moving the stick into gear. They grin widely, and you drive off, the engine purring smoothly. “So, where are we—” Pope starts, but he’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. Rafe’s name flashes on the display, and the boys visibly tense up, their smiles fading as discomfort sets in.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, your voice carrying a mix of warmth and caution. “Hi baby, whatcha doin’? Thought I might come over to yours in a few minutes, gotta see Top for something too” Rafe’s voice fills the car, a smooth and confident drawl.

“I’m out right now, and I won’t be home for a bit,” you reply, tapping your finger against the steering wheel. The boys sit in tense silence, trying to act nonchalant but clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. The cheerful energy from earlier is all but gone, replaced by a palpable tension that hangs in the air.

It’s silent on the other end before Rafe speaks up again. “Right, where—where are you right now? You with anyone?” he stutters, his tone shifting to one of suspicion. Pope’s eyes widen, and he freaks out. “I don’t think we should be here right now,” he mutters under his breath. Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, dude!” JJ whisper-yells, trying to keep his voice low. You throw JJ a look that clearly says he isn’t helping.

Hearing the voices, Rafe stands up from his seat, his eyebrows furrowed. “Who was that?” he questions sharply. You glance at the boys, feeling the weight of the situation.“Uh, I’m just with Pope and JJ,” you quietly admit, bracing yourself for Rafe’s reaction.

There’s a brief, tense silence on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear Rafe’s jaw clench. You know how your boyfriend feels about you hanging out with them, and the tension in the car thickens as you wait for his response.

“Are you serious right now? How many times have I told you I don’t want you hangin’ around with them?” He angrily says. You roll your eyes, already feeling the annoyance building. “Rafe, I’m not having this conversation with you right now, okay?” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No. We’re having this conversation right now. Does Topper even know you’re hanging out with those Pogues?” Rafe snaps back, his tone leaving no room for argument. You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Pope and JJ, who look increasingly uncomfortable.

“Rafe, not right now. I’m hanging up, okay? Hanging up right now—” you begin, but Rafe interjects, “Don’t you dare—”Before he can finish his sentence, you press end call. The car falls into an uneasy silence as Pope and JJ sit there quietly, processing what just happened.

“Uhm, so that just happened,” Pope says, staring out at the road in front of him as you chuckle. “I’m so sorry you guys had to hear that,” You apologetically say, biting your bottom lip anxiously, “Nah, don’t even worry about it,” JJ reassures you as you smile at him through the rearview mirror. “Do you guys wanna get some gelato? I’m craving some right now,” You offer as you turn into the main road of Kildare.

~

Opening the door to your house, you pause for a moment as your eyes fall on Topper and Rafe lounging on the sofa. Topper is scrolling through his phone, barely glancing up at your entrance, while Rafe reclines with a smug look on his face.

“Where have you been?” Topper asks, his gaze still fixed on his phone. You hesitate, glancing at Rafe, whose smirk only deepens. “Uh, did Rafe not tell you?” you ask, your voice tinged with confusion since you for sure thought that he would tell your brother who shared the same disdain towards JJ and Pope.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s causing. “Tell him what?” he says innocently, leaning back further into the cushions. “Oh, nothing. I was just hanging out with my friends,” You say as you slip off your sandals, Topper giving you and Rafe a suspicious look.

“Yeah, okay. How’s your new car, by the way? Have you scratched it yet? Cause if you did, you know Mom and Dad will throw a fit,” Topper says casually, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar sting of his passive-aggressiveness. Without responding, you turn to leave the room.

Rafe gets up from the sofa and follows behind you, his expression unreadable. “How does my little sister end up with a Porsche for her first car anyway? It’s fuckin’ unfair,” Topper’s voice jeered from the adjacent room, his tone laced with mockery. “Shut up, Topper!” you retorted, frustration seeping into your voice as Rafe let out a soft, amused snort.

“What are you doing here, by the way?” you ask Rafe who shuts your door behind him as you set your shopping bags down on the ground. “Can I not see my girlfriend?” he says with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief as he lounges comfortably on your bed.

You pause, studying his expression for any hint of underlying motive. “I just thought you wouldn’t wait for me after I told you who I was hanging out with,” you say cautiously, carefully avoiding mentioning JJ or Pope by name.

Rafe’s response is nonchalant, almost dismissive. He simply shrugs, as if your concerns are of little importance to him. “Don’t care,” he replies coolly, his tone betraying no trace of emotion. You lean against your window, raising an eyebrow at his nonchalance. “Really?” you say, not quite believing him.

He hums, his expression unchanged. “Yeah, really.” You slowly nod, still feeling a bit skeptical. “You coming to the party tonight, right?” Rafe speaks up, breaking the tension as you throw your new clothes into your hamper. “I didn’t even know there was a party tonight, but sure,” you shrug, before collapsing on top of Rafe, who exaggerates a loud groan in response, playfully protesting your weight.

~

Getting out of the car, you could already feel the curious stares people were giving your way as Topper and Rafe walked up behind you. The beach was buzzing with activity, and you took in the scene, noting the mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

Scanning the crowd, you quickly spot JJ and Pope hanging out with a few others near the bonfire. They notice you and wave enthusiastically. A smile spreads across your face as you lift your hand, ready to wave back, but before you can, Rafe grabs your hand firmly.

“C’mon, let’s get some drinks,” he mutters against your ear, his breath warm on your skin. His tone is casual, but the grip on your hand leaves little room for argument. You glance back at JJ and Pope, who are now watching the interaction closely, their expressions shifting to concern.

Reluctantly, you let Rafe guide you towards the makeshift bar set up on the sand. Topper falls into step beside you, his presence adding to the tension. “Here,” Rafe passes you a drink as you gratefully take it.

“What are you looking at?” you ask, staring at Rafe’s side profile. He turns to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pulls you closer. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mutters, his tone trying to sound reassuring but tinged with irritation.

Following his earlier line of sight, you glance over and spot JJ and Pope. They’re laughing with a group of friends, seemingly unaware of Rafe’s intense gaze moments ago. Your stomach tightens as you realize he’s been watching them.

Rafe’s grip on you tightens ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of his possessive nature. You look back at him, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression is a mask of casual indifference. The contrast between his actions and his words leaves you feeling uneasy,

“Let’s go,” Rafe suddenly stands up, grabbing your hand abruptly, “What?” As soon as Rafe is standing up with you following along, you hear the whistles and low muttering of people. “Everyone shut the hell up!” Topper groans, watching his little sister and bestfriend walk off.

“Rafe, where are we going?” you ask, glancing back at the crowd, feeling the weight of their stares and the palpable tension in the air. “Shh, it’s fine, we’re just going back to your car,” Rafe says, pulling you closer. He leans in to kiss you, and you feel his smirk against your lips. His hands begin to wander, moving further down your back, his touch both familiar and possessive.

“Rafe,” you pull back slightly, your voice tinged with concern. “It’s fine, yeah? Please?” He looks at you with a familiar intensity, his eyes pleading yet commanding. It’s a look you know all too well, one that mixes affection with an undercurrent of control.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you unlock the car and gently push him before settling down on his lap. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close with an almost possessive firmness. You can feel the strength in his grip, the way he presses you against him, as if asserting his claim over you.

“You’re mine, y’know that, right?” he mutters against your neck, his breath warm and slightly ragged. “Mhm, I know that,” you mumble, your hands running through his hair. His fingers dig into your waist, drawing you even closer. His scent, a mix of cologne and the salty sea air, envelops you, creating an intoxicating mix of comfort and confinement.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck as he continues to murmur possessive reassurances.

~

“Y/n?” You lift your head just as you finish zipping up your shorts. “Hey—” The greeting dies on your lips when you find yourself face to face with JJ. “What are you doing here?” you ask, awkwardly chuckling and smoothing down your hair. The sound of Rafe exiting the car behind you adds to the tension.

JJ’s eyes trace your appearance before flicking behind you to Rafe. “We were just about to, uh, leave,” he says, scratching his head. You nod awkwardly. “Hey, Y/n,” Pope greets as he joins the scene, sensing the uncomfortable vibe. You manage a smile at him. “Hi—” you start, but your words falter as Rafe steps up beside you, still buttoning his shirt. JJ and Pope stand there awkwardly, waiting, while Rafe ignores their presence.

“Did you guys have fun?” you ask, attempting to lighten the mood. Rafe finally looks up, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances at the boys. “Yeah, yeah, it was fun, I guess,” Pope replies hesitantly. JJ’s pained smile shifts between you and Rafe. “You guys sure did, huh?”

Rafe snorts at JJ’s comment, prompting you to slap his chest lightly. There was awkward silence before you speak up, “Did you guys want a lift back?” you offer.

Before they can respond, Rafe interjects, “Baby, you’ve had a few drinks already. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”JJ rolls his eyes at Rafe. “It’s fine, we’ll find our own way home,” Pope says, his smile tinged with sadness. You nod slowly.

“Yeah, you do that,” Rafe says dismissively, pulling you back towards the group. “Come on, babe.” You glance back at JJ and Pope one last time, mouthing a silent apology as they briefly wave goodbye. The expressions on their faces stay with you—a mix of disappointment and hurt that you can’t shake off.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Perv!Toji who just hums when he hears you say that you need to go underwear shopping, again, over the phone. You explain how it seems like you have to buy more every month because they keep disappearing by the bundle, and that maybe you just keep forgetting them at his place. Toji says he'll be on the lookout for a pretty pair of your lacy, blue panties, in his room, which lures a laugh out of you, but he knows your reaction would be much different if you knew that he was just describing the current pair he has in his hand. His collection grew bigger than he ever intended it to, but he thinks that as long as you remain unsure of why your sacred treasures keep disappearing, he's in the clear to continue stealing them.

Perv!Toji who props his phone up against a pillow with a picture of you making the screen glow in the darkness of his room. It's a picture he took of you on one of your dates, you turned around and gave him the prettiest, soft smile, and he was able to capture the shininess of your eyes. It was his lock screen for a while, but of course you always outdo yourself and give him something better. That doesn't mean the previous picture just gets lost in his gallery. No, no, no. It's good material for when he's missing your body against his. His spank bank is riddled with you, it's an unorganized shrine that mixes his pure and sinful memories of you. Just thinking of you is enough to get him off, but it's always nice to be able to turn his head in the direction of his phone to get that crystal clear image of you while he furiously fists his cock until his sticky cum is dripping down his palm and landing on the warm skin of his abdomen. Busting once isn't always enough and in those cases, he just swipes to the next picture of you and does it all over again.

Perv!Toji who always has his hands beneath your clothes. Sometimes, he'll come up behind you while you're cooking, and the second his hands start sliding down your waist, you know what he's up to. His hands keep lowering until they're under the waistband of your shorts, moving the material of your underwear slightly so that he can caress and squeeze your bare hips. He really loves the sudden jolt he earns from your body when his fingers explore a little further and he starts tracing the creases that join your pelvis and thighs. Even when you're out and about, if you're standing around for too long, waiting to order food or just figuring out what you want to do next, he'll stand behind you as if he's giving you a back hug, and his hands will go up your shirt to rub and pinch your tummy.

Perv!Toji who can't watch a movie with you without teasing and playing with your pussy. You'll be sitting on his lap and at some point, his hand will slide down the front of your pajama pants and he'll just rest his palm on your pelvis, not moving for a good while. Once he knows you're used to the feeling, and you're not so riled up about the placement of his hand, he'll "mindlessly" start feeling up the material of your panties. His hand does an opening and closing motion, spreading his fingers apart before bringing them all close together, again. On the inside, you're going insane over every chaste drag of his fingertips over your clothed clit, but it's translated into subtle, occasional, little squirms and shifts on Toji's lap. He won't stop the teasing motions until he breaks your focused bearing entirely, and you're the one greedily chasing friction from his hand.

Perv!Toji who is absolutely terrible at the 'guess who' game. The second he's behind you, one of his enormous hands goes over your eyes, while the other one swiftly goes up your shirt and under your bra to grab a handful of tit. While he shamelessly squeezes, you try to process how fast you were put in this position by him. His familiar scent engulfs your nose, and his lips press against your ear, a deep, goosebump inducing, spine tingling, "guess who?" murmured. You're speechless as you attempt to think of anything other than the throbbing going on between your legs. His lips attaching to the side of your neck doesn't help him at all, but it does bring you back so you're finally able to take your wild guess. "Toji," you breathe out. On the outside he chuckles and plays the defeated man, but deep down, he loves that your body has his touch memorized, and that his smell is distinct, but you're able to recognize it in an instant. He loves that when you hear the sound of his voice, nobody else comes to mind. He loves that you didn't hum as if there were options, and instead, confidently said his name, because it confirms that nobody else is touching you this way.

Perv!Toji whose perverted behavior amplifies every time you send him a video of you playing with yourself. He opens the message, and the sight of your bare body instantly makes his cock spring to life, even before he presses play on the video. Immediately, he's met with the sound of your moans mixed with the slick sound of your fingers going in and out of your drooling cunt. Toji's heart races and his cock twitches at the sound of his name being crooned so sweetly by you. Unknowingly, he looks like he's trying to go into his phone, with the way he holds it so close to his face. He's pinching the screen, zooming into everything, every inch of your skin, your heaving chest, your tummy, before reaching the lewd scene of your glistening cunt being stuffed by your fingers. God, he's like a broken faucet, leaking precum in his boxers because of you and your tendency to be so sinful, that it's holy for him to be the only one who sees you behave this way. He finally goes back up to watch your face, and thank god he always saves this part for last, because you look like hell. Every. Single. Time. His brows are slightly pinched and his breathing quickens as he watches your pretty face contort with pleasure. Toji impatiently unbuttons and unzips his jeans with one hand and pulls his cock out of his boxers, a deep groan leaving him when his hand wraps around his sticky length. He's watching you, hips bucking up into his hand as he imagines it's him making you feel that way. When you cry out his name as you orgasm, his breath hitches, and as if he was actually there fucking you, he follows right after you, groaning as ropes on ropes of thick cum land on his pants and his hand. He lets out a heavy sigh and curses under his breath about the mess he made on himself. His attention is brought back to his phone when he hears you giggle in the video, followed by a quick "Love you, baby" before the video ends. He groans and shuts his eyes, resting his head against the wall behind the couch as he thinks about how badly he needs you. The aftermath is sent to you, followed by a request for you to come over.