#im living every moment of their interactions

[roxxie-wolf]

𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

Chapter 1 🌸 Chapter 2 🌸 Chapter 3 🌸 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 🌸 Chapter 6 🌸 Chapter 7

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20's, Alastor is in his early 30's, you still live with your parents idk. If I forgot anything else please let me know.

Note: I know this is taking a while, but we will get there eventually. Im sorry 😭

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟩

The morning air was crisp, carrying the promise of a new day as you walked through the town. The thought of seeing Alastor again sent a mix of anticipation and nerves through you. Each step, each cafe and store you entered, was with the hope of catching a glimpse of him, of confirming that the connection you felt was not just a figment of your imagination.

And then, there he was, engaged in conversation with another man. You froze, your gaze locked onto Alastor, tracking his every move as he and the man made their way to a nearby cafe. A part of you wanted to turn away, to respect his privacy, but the pull was too strong. You followed at a distance, questioning your own actions. *Am I becoming obsessed with him? Am I stalking him?* The thoughts were unsettling, yet you couldn't deny the draw he had on you.

With a deep breath, you entered the cafe, your eyes scanning the room until they found Alastor. He was seated, still deep in conversation, unaware of your presence. You chose a table further away, a silent observer to the scene unfolding before you.

Minutes passed, and a woman entered, her confident stride taking her straight to Alastor's table. The way she greeted him, the familiarity of their interaction, sparked a surprising pang of jealousy within you. It was an emotion you hadn't expected to feel, especially so soon, and it left you questioning the intensity of your feelings.

From your secluded spot, you watched, a tumult of emotions swirling within you. The desire to approach warred with the need to maintain a respectful distance. For now, you remained seated, a silent witness to the life of a man who had, in a short time, become an enigma you were desperate to understand.

Alastor's departure from his company seemed almost cinematic, the way his gaze swept across the cafe before finding you. His smile, wide and unguarded.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said to his companions, his voice carrying just enough to reach your ears. There was a grace to his movements, a confidence that came from knowing exactly where he wanted to be.

As Alastor navigated through the maze of tables, his smile never wavered. You pretended to be engrossed in the world outside the window, the bustling street providing a convenient distraction. But you could feel his approach, the air seemed to charge with an electric anticipation.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to see you again darling”you heard his soothing voice, your heart immediately started to race in your chest. The way he always calls you dear or darling making your cheeks flushed. You turn to look at him “Hello, Alastor I didn't see you there," your voice steadier than you felt. "It's been a while."

“Indeed, it has. I must say, I've missed our little encounters my dear." You couldn't help but smile, despite the fluttering in your chest.

He pulled out the chair next to you, the scrape of wood against tile breaking the hush of whispered conversations. "May I?" You nodded, and he sat down, close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne.

"What brings you to this side of town?" you inquired, genuinely curious.

Alastor leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief behind his glasses. "I was in search of something, but it seems I've found something even more intriguing," gesturing subtly towards you. You smiled rolling your eyes playfully.

“Well I was wondering if you wanted to come to my home sometime for dinner” The invitation hung in the air between you, a delicate offer that could tilt the balance of your relationship with Alastor. His eyes, bright with that ever-present mischief, softened slightly.

"Your home?" he echoed, the words laced with a playful curiosity. “Now, that is an intriguing proposition, ma cherie."

You met his gaze squarely, the playful roll of your eyes replaced by a look of earnest. "Yes, my home. I think it's time we moved past these chance encounters in cafes and streets."

Alastor's expression turned thoughtful, a rare moment of vulnerability flashing across his features before he masked it with a grin. "I would be honored to accept your invitation" his voice carrying a warmth that made your heart skip a beat.

"Shall we say this weekend?" you ventured, the idea of hosting Alastor both exciting and nerve-wracking.

He nodded, "This weekend it is dear. I'll bring some food, I’ll prepare it myself," he declared, the twinkle returning to his eyes.

"Oh no, it's okay, don't trouble yourself, Alastor," you insisted, the thought of him going to such lengths for you stirring a warmth within.

"I'll prepare some food," determined to take care of the details yourself. It was the least you could do after all the thoughts he had occupied in your mind.

“Well in that case, I’ll help you, darling," his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that spoke volumes.

“Alright then, that sounds great," the excitement evident in your voice. The thought of working side by side with him, sharing tasks and laughter, made the prospect of the weekend all the more thrilling. The kitchen would become your canvas, and Alastor's offer to help was the brushstroke that completed the picture.

The moment lingered, a comfortable silence falling between you as he leaned forward, his eyes locking with yours. "Would you like me to walk you home, darling?" The term of endearment sending a familiar warmth through you.

You paused, the image of your parents at home flashing through your mind. "No, it’s ok, I’ll go on my own," not ready to introduce Alastor into that part of your life just yet.

Alastor nodded, understanding without needing further explanation. "Alright then, I won’t pressure you, dear, but please do be careful," his voice low, laced with a hint of concern.

"Thank you, I’ll be alright. See you on the weekend, Alastor," you smiled, a mix of gratitude and fondness in your farewell. You stood, the movement marking the end of one encounter and the beginning of the sweet wait for another.

As you parted ways that day, the echo of his voice was a gentle caress and the promise of the weekend hung like a melody in your mind, a tune you couldn't wait to explore.

——————————————

The sight of your father on the porch was a familiar one, a scene that spoke of quiet evenings and gentle conversations. "Hello, father," you greeted, the smile on your face a reflection of the day's pleasant memories.

"How was your day?" his voice carrying the weight of simple parental concern.

"It was great," the word 'great' feeling like an understatement for the rollercoaster of emotions you had experienced. But you weren't ready to share the details of your encounter with Alastor, not yet.

"Where's mom?" you inquired, looking around for the familiar figure of your mother.

"Oh, she's speaking with the neighbors," your father responded, his gaze fixed on some distant point, a sign that his thoughts were elsewhere.

You nodded, understanding the unspoken words that hung in the air. Your father was a man of few words, but his presence was a steady comfort. With a final glance at the peaceful street, you stepped inside, the warmth of home enveloping you.

The decision to cook now or wait for your mother weighing on your mind. “Hey dad, are you hungry?” stepping outside to where your father sat.

He looked up at you, his nod a silent answer. “Are you going to wait for your mother?” his voice carrying the calm of the evening.

You considered his question for a moment. “Well, if you’re hungry, I can cook now,” you offered, the gentle tone of your voice mingling with the sounds of the settling evening.

“It’s ok, I can wait for your mother. How about you?” a gentle smile spreading across his face. You thought for a moment. “I think I’ll wait and I can help her with dinner?”, your voice barely above a whisper, as if to not disturb the peace.

Your father’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, a silent acknowledgment of your words. And so, you waited, the two of you sitting side by side, watching the sky change colors as the day gave way to night. The air was filled with the chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves.

The night unfolded with a gentle rhythm, the arrival of your mother adding the final note to the day's melody. Her hurried steps and apologetic words were met with the calm understanding of your father, his smile a silent reassurance that all was well. “I’m so sorry I got carried away and stayed far too long.” Your mother had a worried expression on her face.

"It's ok sweetheart, we were just waiting for you," the affection in his voice wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

"Well, let's all go inside then," your mother suggested, her actions swift as she stepped into the house, the worry on her face melting away with each familiar step.

You did the same your father followed, the door closing behind your dad with a soft click, a signal that the outside world was left behind for now. Your father took his place in the living room, a quiet sentinel as the sounds of dinner preparation began to fill the house.

Together, you and your mother moved in the kitchen's dance, the clatter of pots and pans, the sizzle of onions in the pan, the fragrant steam rising from boiling pots. The kitchen was alive with the symphony of dinner preparations, a duet performed by you and your mother.

The meal's conclusion brought a comfortable silence, a testament to the satisfaction and contentment that comes from a shared family dinner. You moved with practiced ease, clearing the table and washing the dishes, the warm water a soothing end to the day's activities.

As the last plate was dried and put away, the kitchen restored to its pre-dinner calm, you could feel the gentle closure of the evening's familial ritual. With everything clean and in its place, you had a moment to yourself, a quiet end to a day.

You headed upstairs to your room and took a shower. Refreshed from the shower and dressed in the comfort of your familiar clothes, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. The fabric against your skin was a gentle reminder of the day's transition from the unexpected excitement to the soothing routine of home life.

Now, in the soft embrace of the night, you had the space to breathe and the time to prepare for the rest of the night. Whether it was to read a book, or simply sit with your thoughts, the quiet hours ahead were yours to shape as you pleased.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖

TAGLIST: @magictoebean @little-slyvixen @bitchywitchygardener @diffidentphantom @catticora

[wolvertooth]

[hexados-on-a-string]

the only reason hydron didnt live is bc if he was part of the brawler's interdimensional found family, that'd involve him getting a character arc on account of actually having a support system and also the fact that zenoheld is dead and they didn't wanna write that so they just killed off hydron. this lives in my brain though.

[applexi]

i don't have the balls to talk abt this in my other blog but holy fuck am i emotional over hollow looking back at ghost at that flashback i rewatched it just now and i feel awful for what would soon happen to hollow RAAAGGGH

[lily-blue-blue-lily]

ive made so many text posts today ranting about various things and then just saving them in drafts because either no one will care or people might argue back at me lol ... i dont know why im so opinionated today

[southerngothicaf]

Ohh no.

[crescentmp3]

soon i wont even be vagueposting about my pain anymore im just gonna start posting in detail like my blog is a journal.

[dr-gaytorius]

um yeah i’d like to complain abt the complete destabilization of my whole life just one more time

[potpiehead]

so it's either crammed under one of the seats in my car, it fell out in the parking lot when I dropped them off (never getting it back lol) or one of them decided to take it home and pretend to not have it as a prank and tbh I would lose a lot of trust and respect for them because what the fuck

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.

୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

you have thirty days to get married.

being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.

if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy. 

you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head. 

except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.

you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.

satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne. 

especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation. 

how ridiculous is that? 

and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for. 

it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes. 

alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.

all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).

suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too. 

if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever  quitting him.

you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it. 

the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.

perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?

why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?

your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you. 

“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on. 

before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see. 

except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party. 

you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose. 

“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.” 

he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin. 

satoru gojo belongs on his knees. 

kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you.  mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties. 

there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress. 

instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown. 

but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !

juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark. 

“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand. 

he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…” 

you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be. 

“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin. 

the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick. 

“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull. 

the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did. 

shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.

your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time. 

he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune. 

“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess. 

he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.

but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda. 

you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time. 

dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.

“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.” 

“f-fuck you.”

“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.

his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies. 

“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality  and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt. 

nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“

you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.” 

the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible. 

like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.” 

with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé. 

yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls. 

“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.” 

satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”

“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“

you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.

but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.” 

he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth. 

“sato—!”

“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”

that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.

shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!” 

you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.

“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru. 

thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth. 

he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.” 

you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!” 

“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”

the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth. 

your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either.  his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again. 

he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with. 

it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.

“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”

the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 

the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.

lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place. 

your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.

“so about—“

“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic. 

for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint  on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring. 

he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—

“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”

“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”

“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”

throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.” 

“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.” 

you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold. 

the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo. 

but the entire time, you never look back. 

you don’t even look at gojo — and  that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd. 

the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[dr3c0mix]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Eight - She Breaks Her Own Rules

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.5K

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

okay so im skipping ahead in the timeline but, by this point, they've done a lot and slept together a lot. If you guys want to, you can send in asks (like we've done with nnta) about it

Series Masterlist

The Spanish Grand Prix. It was their first grand prix since they started fucking and it felt like they'd done nothing but that. They'd spent almost every night together since that first time they slept together on the couch.

At first, Lando did what he had done that first time. He left her as soon as they had both finished, or he rolled away and let her leave.

But there was one time, one time where Y/N just laid there, too fucked out to move. Lando still got up. But this time he walked to the bathroom and started running the water.

As it ran, he made his way back to his bedroom, where Y/N was still laying. "Hey," he said, crouching down beside her and brushing the hair away from her forehead. "I've got the bath running for you."

Lando stood up straight. He brought her into his arms, picking her up and walking her into the bathroom. Gently, he placed her down in the water. He grabbed the loofa and the soap and began scrubbing at her skin. "Feeling better?" He asked, gently cleaning between her legs.

She hissed and Lando pulled away, cleaning the sweat from her thighs instead. "Thank you, Lan," she said softly, eyes closed as she leaned back against the tub.

He smiled, smoothed down her hair, and left the room.

Y/N closed her eyes. She just laid there, enjoying the feeling of the water against her skin. But then the door opened again and Lando returned, holding a clean pair of her pyjama shorts and one of his hoodies.

After climbing out of the tub and drying off her body. Y/N pulled on the shorts and Lando's hoodie. She followed him out of the bathroom and made her way back to her own bedroom, falling asleep alone.

But now they were at the Spanish Grand Prix. It was incredibly warm, but Y/N was still wearing a hoodie. She had thought nothing of it, of the hoodie she was wearing as she walked through the paddock on the Friday, orange hat on her head.

She thought nothing of it as she walked into the garage to prepare for free practice. She went into her drivers room and got changed into her fire proofs and racing overalls. Before she left her drivers room, she checked her phone and took a sip of her energy drink.

If this was a movie, the scenes would have cut between Y/N racing around the track and her phone notifications blowing up. It seemed like the only things the fans cared about wasn't the free practice, at this particular moment, but it was Y/N's attire as she arrived at the track. Or, who's clothes she was wearing.

It was no secret in the Formula One community that Lando liked to wear his hoodies. His fans knew all of his hoodies, knew how easily recognisable they were. So, when Y/N L/N, his teammate, came walking into the paddock wearing his hoodie, nobody could believe it.

F1 social media was blowing up, and she was none the wiser.

She and Lando didn't have much interaction that day. He didn't seem to notice what she was wearing, having gotten used to it, gotten used to seeing her in his clothes.

On the Saturday, things were a lot hotter. Y/N wore her McLaren top as she walked around the paddock, saying hello to her friends and doing a little bit of media with her teammate.

Interviewers loved to ask them how their living situation was going. Y/N and Lando loved to watch the excitement drain from their faces when they said that things were going well and that they enjoyed living together. Clearly, interviewers wanted gossip, tea, to hear how much they hated living together. But that wasn't what they had to say.

Qualifying was insanely good for Y/N. It was the best qualifying of her F1 career, starting second on the grid. Max qualified just ahead of her, but there was no way she was going to be able to overtake him. Second place would be good, if she could hold onto it, but she was hungry for the win.

If she had qualified ahead of Max Verstappen, she would have wanted to celebrate, to pull Lando into her bedroom for a sleepless night. But she hadn't qualified on pole and she needed to be able to concentrate, needed sleep before the race tomorrow.

On Sunday she was anxious. Of course she was, it was race day. She woke up, so much earlier than she needed to, and got dressed.

When it was time, she and Lando headed to the track together. It wasn't suspicious, they told themselves, they were roommates and friends and it was perfectly normal for them to go places together.

(When fans noticed this, they couldn't believe it. They had to be dating. First the hoodie and now this? Dating was the only explanation, they thought).

Before the race began, the drivers stood on track as the race day opening ceremonies happened. She was between her teammate and Ferrari's own Charles Leclerc as the national anthem was played.

Since they got to the track, Y/N and Lando hadn't had a moment alone. They hadn't had a moment to wish each other good luck. Were they even supposed to do that now? Just because they were having sex, did that mean they should say good luck to each other?

They didn't get much time to worry about it. Before they knew it, they were on the starting grid, waiting for the lights to go green.

***

Y/N was on the podium. She wasn't just on the podium, she had won. She stood proud as her countries national anthem played behind her. Her first win in F1 and she got to share the podium with her friend Max and the living legend that was Lewis Hamilton.

She sprayed champagne over them as they ran around the podium, the crowd staring up at them. The feeling of her first win was incredible, addictive, and she wanted to celebrate.

Max invited her on a night out, to go clubbing and celebrate his win. But Y/N turned him down, she had other plans.

Getting back to her drivers room, she did things quickly, got changed out of her fire proofs quickly. She then snuck her way out of her own drivers room and made her way over to Lando's driver room. She knocked gently and pushed the door open.

"Congratulations," said Lando as she walked in and shut the door behind her, he was incredibly proud of her.

Y/N was silent as she walked over to him, her hips swaying from side to side. Lando was still as he watched her walk over to him. As she threw her arms around his neck, Lando's hands settled on her waist. Still saying nothing, she pressed her lips to his.

The rules they had set out played in the back of his mind as Y/N pushed him back towards the white couch in his drivers room. She sat on his lap, immediately grinding against him.

Lando continued to kiss her as he pulled off his shirt. He pulled his own over his head and dropped it onto the couch beside them. Y/N continued to kiss him as she opened his jeans and pushed them down his legs, doing the same to her own.

Lando unclasped her bra as she freed him from the confines of his boxers. She pushed her panties down and sat back on his lap, his cock stiff and proud between them.

Y/N grabbed him and pumped her hand up and down. She kept her fingers wrapped around him as she placed herself above him, and sank down, throwing her head back as she filled him.

Fuck, she'd never get used to this. She never wanted to.

Lando held onto her ass as she bounced on his lap, riding him. He continued to kiss her, unwilling to pull his lips away as he began thrusting up into her, helping her to move. His hands gripped her skin, leaving bruises.

The way he held her, the feeling of his skin against hers, was addictive, almost as addictive as winning. "Lan," she whispered against his bruised lips.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, continuing to fuck up into her.

Her eyes closed as she let out a weak cry.

Her orgasm was close, but still just out of reach. But then the door to Lando's driver room flew open and Max walked in. "Hey ma-"

Every in the room froze, just staring at each other. Lando tightened his grip on her before his brain kicked into gear and he grabbed his shirt from the couch and pulled it over her body.

He pulled out of her and pulled his boxers up, pushing Y/N behind him to shield her from Max's view. "It's not what it looks like," the McLaren drivers said at the same time.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party @urfavnoirette @norassimpingzone @thehufflepuffavenger1 @taintet @amorydsmt @hi00000234567 @iamkaku @maxv33rstappen @noneofyourfbusinessworld @thatsusbitch @izzy-marvel @carqueensworld

[eomayas]

never lose me • ljh

pairing: woozi x f!reader, established relationship

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!! slight angst, fluff, miscommunication

synopsis: it’s been awhile since you’ve gotten jihoon alone, and a sundress is all it takes for him to realize how much he misses and is obsessed with you

warnings: pwp, unprotected p in v, oral (f), riding, fingering, reader wears a dress, they say ‘i love you’ a lot, mild angst, fluff, buff woozi, long haired woozi

a/n: i love woozi. unedited of course

jihoon knows he’s in trouble the moment you step out into the living room in a baby pink sundress that clings to your chest and gives you a lift, your hair tossed up in a loose updo, donning gold jewelry, and a smile that makes him physically weak. his chest swells with love and desire, a deep sense of yearning overtaking his being.

he’s been distant lately, he knows. working late nearly every night and leaving early in the morning. sometimes, he doesn’t even make it home and ends up sleeping at the studio or at the dorms, despite having his own place with you. he’s been meaning to make it up to you—he bought you a few things, though he knows the key to your heart isn’t material things—though he hasn’t really found the time (or out in much effort) to do so, other than offering to take you to the farmers market today since you mentioned it awhile ago and he never went with you.

looking at you now, he’s overwhelmed with the information that he’s very much in love with you, and that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “are you ready?” you ask him, a soft smile on your face. jihoon swallows and nods, standing up from the couch and wiping his palms on his jeans. he places a hand on the small of your back and places a gentle kiss on your jaw.

"you look pretty," he says softly, removing his hand from your back to hold onto yours. you blush and thank him, feeling an ego boost that he at least noticed. it’s been hard interacting with him since when you do see him, it’s short and brief. you understand that he’s busy, and understand he needs his time and space to work—you’ve never taken issue with that—but you do miss him, more than anything.

the drive to the farmers market is short, and you do most of the talking, catching him up on things you know he’s missed, whether it be things going on in your life, or in the pop culture word. he’s quiet, but he hangs onto every word you say even if it’s not about you and your life. it makes him realize just how gone he’s been, and he starts to feel guilty and like the worlds worst boyfriend.

“ji, you okay?” you question, tapping his leg. he looks down at your hand and grabs it with his right, squeezing it. he glances over at you and sees the concern on your face and begins to feel worse.

“yeah, yeah im fine,” he says unconvincingly. you know him better than that—probably better than he knows himself—and you know something is there under the surface, but you never push him unless you feel like he needs to be pushed. rather than forcing the truth out of him, you leave it alone.

soon enough, he’s pulling into the designated parking lot for the farmers market, and the two of you are getting out of his car and walking hand in hand through the street. it’s a bright day, and there are many people, families, and dogs milling about. “ji, we should get a dog,” you say when another toy poodle passes by the two of you. he chuckles and shakes his head lightly. “cmon, it would be like prep for when we have an actual kid.” you say casually, a twinkle in your eye.

the breath gets caught in jihoons throat and his cheeks flush. the two of you have talked about having kids before, but not recently. the fact that you’d still consider him to be the father of your children makes him feel warm and hopeful that he isn’t a total screw up of a partner.

“i’ll think about it,” jihoon says, swallowing. your grin at him and grab ahold of jihoons hand to drag him over to a booth. he lets you guide him, his brain still stuck on the comment about kids. he wants kids, especially with you, and now he can’t seem to think of anything else.

and he lets you guide him to whichever booth you want. you lead him to a booth that sells fresh produce, and he stays close by to you while you pick things out. he can’t help but watch you move and feel an ache deep inside of him, a strong sense of yearning for you despite the fact that he has you. “i’m gonna try to bake something this week, what do you want?” you ask jihoon, picking up a carton of strawberries.

turning, you have an expectant look on your face until you see your boyfriend looking extremely… sad. like a little puppy, his eyes wide and his mouth downturned into a small frown. “baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, placing a hand on his arm.

jihoon opens his mouth and closes it before trying again, taking a step closer to you. he slips an arm around your waist to rest on the small of your back, dropping his mouth close to your ear. “i love you,” he murmurs, mouth ghosting over your jaw in a soft kiss.

you smile and tilt your head to look up at him. “i love you too, baby,” you say, placing a kiss on his lips this time. you don’t really mind PDA—jihoon does, though he’s not complaining right now. he wonders if anybody else can hear how hard his heart is beating in his chest, and whether you can feel it, because it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest.

once you two pull away, you go back to picking our fruit and jihoon goes back to swooning and yearning over you. but he wanders around the booth and grabs some vegetables that he can meal prep with, and finds you when he’s done. you tell him what you’re going to make for the week—blueberry lemon loaf—and then the two of you bound up to the counter to pay. jihoon hands the person behind the counter his card with ease.

afterwards, you pull him to more booths and he follows you closely, letting you wander around but never keeping you out of his line of sight. he can’t keep his mind off of you right now, he's so overwhelmed by you, and he wishes he could get a handle on himself right now. he's so consumed with the fact that you still want to have kids with him, about the fact that your dress is much too tight in the chest and its turning him to mush.

jihoon glances around and finds a spots a florists tent only a few feet away. you're preoccupied with looking at handmade jewelry that he's able to quickly slip away without you noticing. jihoon's eyes quickly scan the bouquets, reaching for a large one full of white, pink, and yellow flowers. he holds them for a second before setting them back where he found them and walking up to the people who run the booth. "hi, do you guys have any bouquets with peonies?" he asks, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.

the woman smiles and stands up, already walking over to another display of flowers. "yes! we have bouquets made up of entirely bouquets–like this," she holds up a band of pink peonies to show jihoon. "or we have a few that contain peonies, but not nearly as many. depends on what you like." she finishes happily, a polite smile on her face. jihoon's eyes dart between both bouquets, a crease forming in between his eyebrows. "is it a special occasion? person?" the florist asks, trying to help jihoon out.

"they're for my girlfriend. she likes pink," he says, reaching for the bouquet of mixed flowers. theres pink peonies, white roses, and a third pink flower he can't identify. "i think i'll just get these." the florist nods and leads jihoon back to the counter to pay. he hands her his card and rocks eagerly back and forth on his heels, feeling a semblance of normalness for the first time today.

taking the flowers, a sense of pride swells in his chest at the mere thought of handing them to you, in seeing the expression on your face when he gives you the bouquet.

when jihoon gets closer to the booth he left you in, his eyes search for you, but he is unable to see you. his eyebrows furrow, but he keeps his panic at bay–you're a grown woman after all, and you definitely could not have gone far since he was hardly gone for more than five minutes. he'll find you.

like a dog with a squeaker toy, his ears perk up at the sound of laughter. but it's not just any laughter, its one that he'd probably be able to pick out even amongst a chorus of people laughing. its the sound of laughter that always makes him want to start laughing; its infectious, and sweet, and its yours. its laughter that comes from your chest, and he can just imagine what you look like: eyes squinty, teeth showing, cheeks round. his stomach churns with butterflies at the mere thought of it.

jihoon follows the sound, gaze landing upon you in a few seconds. but he stops short when he sees why you are laughing. a man stands close to you, a bit too close, marveling at the fact that he was able to elicit such a sound from you. now, jihoon isn't a regularly jealous guy, nor is he possessive. but he sees the way the man looks at you, watches his eyes drop down to your chest for a split second while you're busy talking about something and not quite paying him any attention. the butterflies that once inhabited his stomach vanish, and the churning stems from elsewhere. he swallows and runs a hand through his long, dark hair, and finishes making his way to you.

the man notices jihoon before you do, and he makes his presence known by slipping a hand onto the small of your back. with a start, you almost accuse the man of trying to pull a fast one on you until you turn and see jihoon, immediate relief and relaxation washing over you. "oh! baby, you scared me," you say, sliding closer to him. you notice the flowers in his hand and you break out into a smile. "for me?" you ask.

jihoon smiles sheepishly and nods, but he keeps his eyes trained on the stranger. you notice jihoons attention divert and follow his gaze, lips parting, ready to introduce to two of them but you stop short once you realize you don’t even know the man’s name and that he just started talking to you. “uh,” you start, a shy smile on your face.

“ill leave you two to it,” he says, throwing up an awkward thumbs up and slipping off to wherever he came from. you look at jihoon and get help the laugh that escapes you, dropping a hand onto his shoulder.

“that was so awkward!” you say, hugging the flowers to your chest. jihoon gives you a halfhearted chuckle, the corner of his lip dragging upward before immediately falling into a flat line. he’s not upset, especially not with you. there’s a bunch of emotions swarming through him today, and that man only added fuel to the fire. he feels like he’s on borrowed time with you and can’t get ahold of anything.

a frown takes over your face at your boyfriends mood, your frustration growing. “jihoon, what is wrong?” you ask, voice hushed because of the public setting. he glances around and takes a step closer to you, arm snaking around your waist.

“it’s nothing, i promise,” he says, voice low. jihoon places a consolidation kiss on your cheek, but you don’t believe him. it’s bullshit and both of you know that you know that, but you don’t say anything because you really do just want to enjoy this day with him.

the two of you wander around the farmers market for a few more hours, jihoon hardly leaving your side of letting you out of his sight for too long. he is hyper aware of who talks to you, where their eyes linger and for how long. it’s extremely out of character, this level of possession he’s displaying. it’s not him, but he’s extremely on edge.

you notice it, of course. his hand rarely leaves the small of your back unless you wrap yourself around his arm. he’s not nearly this close and clingy to you, but it doesn’t necessarily bother you—his possessive behavior, though, is where you’re stumped. you’re now 101% sure that he’s been bullshitting you all day. again, you don’t say anything and choose to just embrace him being all over you, especially since it’s been awhile that you’ve been able to get time with him.

after a few hours of walking in platform sandals, your feet start to ache. the two of you have gone to nearly every booth at the market, and have seen the crowd die down. “my feet are killing me,” you say, flexing your toes.

“are you ready to go home?” jihoon asks, rubbing small circles into your lower back.

“yeah, i think so. we basically saw everything, right?” you ask, the two of you already heading back in the direction of the parking lot. jihoon nods, slipping his hand from your back to intertwine your fingers together. you glance over at him and smile, grateful for the time you’ve had with him today despite his strange attitude. “i love you, you know?” you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

jihoon smiles, looking down at that ground. “i love you too,” he says softly, the tips of his ears reddening. the two of you make it back to the car and jihoon opens the trunk to put the tote bag of stuff in the back. you wait for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a kiss when he closes the back. he holds onto your sides tightly, fingers lightly bunching up the loose fabric of your dress. you press your chest against his own, your nipples peaked and sensitive against the fabric of your dress mixed with the friction of his tshirt.

jihoon feels his mind go blank for a second, almost like he’s a virgin again when he feels your nipples through your dress. he hadnt realized how thin the material was, or what you weren’t wearing a bra, and now that changes everything about today, about the feeling of you in his hands, about the stares you received from strangers. it makes him more agitated and pathetically hard, though the latter makes him feel guilty for even thinking about you in that way when he’s barely spent real quality time with you.

pulling back, you place a soft hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. jihoon relaxes against your touch, letting out a small breath that makes you smile. “i’ve missed you,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your hip.

you hum, placing your other hand against his chest. you flatten it over his right pec before gently dragging your nails over his clothed skin. “prove it,” you say, tone sultry. you flick your eyes up to meet his own and he swallows, his erection straining against his pants. if you notice it, you don’t make it known, just smile that angelic smile and slip away from him to get in the car. jihoon stands there, static flowing through his brain.

there isn’t a coherent thought in his mind other than getting you home as quickly as possible. he quickly hops in the driver seat and starts the car, flying out of the parking lot far too quickly. but he doesn’t really have time to stop and think, his dick agonizingly hard in his pants and you achingly beautiful right next to him.

“baby, it’s a red,” you say, looking over at jihoon with mild concern when he flies up to a red light, hardly feeling like he’s pressing on the brakes. jihoon leans back in his seat once the car is idle, and lets out a chuckle at his own ridiculousness. he won’t be able to fuck you like he wants if he dangerously speeds home, but he’s eager, buzzing in his seat.

“god, i love you,” he mumbles for the millionth time today, running a hand through his hair and pressing on the lightly on the gas when the light changes.

you smile and place a hand low on his leg. jihoon can’t help when he jerks at your touch, leg shifting open wider. it’s embarrassing, pathetic, and whorish, and his face burns in mortification. you bite back a giggle, not wanting to add to his embarrassment.

the short car ride home is tense. again, you talk and he listens—or tries to; unable to fully concentrate with your hand on his leg. you can tell that he’s really trying though, and you find it sweet since the tent in his pants hasn’t faltered once. you’d be lying if you said he hasn’t had you hot and bothered all day. he’s a man of simple fashion: black tshirt and jeans, but his bulging muscles will forever make you drool.

pulling up to the house is like beating the level in a video game before the final boss battle. except in this case, the boss level is getting you naked in the next few minutes. jihoon doesn’t even bother grabbing the stuff out of the trunk, just opens your door for you and ushers you up to the front door. he fumbles with the house key for a moment, lowly mumbling out a few curses before finally shoving it into the lock and opening the door.

jihoons on you in an instant, backing you into the closed front door and placing his lips on yours. you toss your purse onto the entry table and thread your fingers through his long hair. his hair has grown out a lot lately, results of him being so busy with work and forgetting about everything else. you like it, a lot, and rue the day he decides to chop it all off.

he pulls back from your mouth to kiss down your neck, groaning into your skin. jihoon holds onto your sides, hands kneading at the flesh. his mouth is hot against your skin, lips searing like he’s meaning you, branding you.. its a sensation you’ve been deprived of lately, one you’ve missed. jihoon kisses down your chest to the tops of your exposed breasts, resisting the extremely strong urge to rip you out of the fabric. “fuck,” he curses, moving back up to your mouth. he’s desperate for you he can hardly contain himself or get his thoughts straight.

jihoon pulls you from against the door and walks you backwards down the hall. you let him, hands gripping onto his biceps for support. you pull apart when he presses you back against a surface, and you find yourself in the kitchen pressed against the island. jihoons lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown and cheeks flushed. you lovingly run a hand through his hair, pushing the strands out of his face so you can really see him. he closes his eyes for a brief second and grips onto the counter, dropping his forehead against yours. "you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, breath warm against your face. "this dress. you." jihoon lifts his head to look at you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

your heart hammers against your ribcage, like its ready to beat out of your chest and flop onto the kitchen floors. his gaze is intense and makes heat pool at the base of your abdomen, thighs pressing together. you reach behind you to unzip your garment, but he stops you, gently grabbing onto your forearm.

"leave it on."

jihoon is on his knees in an instant, flipping up the skirt of your gown and disappearing under the material. you want to see him, nearly ready to complain until you feel his mouth on your core. he breathes you in, brain clouding at your scent and wetness. your panties are damp and stick to your folds in a way that makes him spin. he wastes no more time and pulls down your underwear, yanking them off your ankles before stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. his mouth is on you again, this time making you let out a soft sigh and bunch up your dress atop his shoulders. he grabs one of your calves and props it against his broad shoulders, spreading your open wider and giving him more room to work.

he's an expert with his tongue, and you let him know that by all of the sounds you make. you didn't realize how long its been until you notice how loud you're being, how quickly your legs begin to shake when he suckles on your clit. "fuck, jihoon!" you moan, knees growing weaker by the second. he keeps a firm grip on your thighs, supporting most of your weight. his tongue is everywhere you need him most, licking up your arousal like its the last thing he'll ever do.

jihoon groans against you, making you whimper above him and press your thighs together. his lips find themselves around your sensitive nub, and he lets go of the leg that is propped up against his shoulder to stick to fingers inside of you. you clench around him in a way that makes him feel like he could cum in his pants in the next few seconds. you're warm and tight.

"h-hoonie, i-i-" you cut yourself off with a pathetic whine, tears gathering in your eyes as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his tongue swirling around your clit.

he's prepared for your release, but he's not prepared for the way your arousal squirts out onto his face. he freezes, watching your pussy flutter around his still fingers, your arousal flowing out of you like rain. "jihoon!" you yelp as you come, body burning and legs shaking. he attempts to retracts his fingers from inside you, but you clench around him and squeeze him back in.

its pathetic the way he whimpers and jerks his hips forward, a dark patch forming on his jeans. he manages to pull his fingers back, and stands up from the floor, hand moving to your hip to support you on your weak legs. the sight before him is one of his favorites: your chest heaving, eyes closed and mouth parted. its a state of bliss that he put you in, and he'll never get tired of it.

upon feeling him stand up, you attempt to sit up against the counter and open your eyes. when you see his shiny face, your eyes widen and your face burns with embarrassment. " oh my g-" he cuts you off with a kiss, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. you moan and grip onto his shoulders tightly, body buzzing.

jihoon is the first to pull away, spinning you around by the hips and pressing you against the counter. he grabs the hem of his shirt and wipes his face before pulling it off and and tossing it on the floor. next are his pants, though he doesnt even bother stepping out of them and just lets them pool around his ankles. he's never been this eager and hungry for sex, its almost animalistic the way he feels inside.

grabbing your leg, jihoon props your knee up on the counter and checks that you're comfortable. "yes, just fuck me," you sigh, folding your arms under your head and resting your cheek against them. jihoon pushes up your dress and lines himself up, pushing the head in and letting out a string of curses at your grip on him. you never fully got used to the size of him, but now that’s it’s been a minute the stretch is much more intense than before. "baby." you whine, biting your bottom lip, cunt fluttering around him. jihoon grips onto the counter with one hand and your hip with the other, bottoming out and staying still for a moment to really feel you.

"i l-love you," he says, breathing labored. he leans down against you and presses a soft, loving, kiss to the back of your neck. "i love you so fucking much."

he pulls back and snaps his hips back into your ass, a loud gasp getting pushes from you lungs, followed by a cry of his name. he's relentless with his strokes, unable to control himself. you don't mind the harshness, especially after how long you've gone without having sex. "j-jihoon!" you cry, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight.

"i m-missed you," he grunts, pushing up your dress so he can see your ass, eyes trained on where you two connect. "missed this pussy, fuck!" he groans, knuckles turning white from his grip on the counter. a white rim coats the base of his dick, both of your arousals mixing together to make it easier for him to glide into you.

“it’s yours,” you mewl, pressing your hips back into him and deepening the arch in your back. jihoon grunts in agreement, moving the hand that is on your hip up to your chest. he gropes your chest, tweaking your nipple through the material of your dress.

he pounds into your hard enough to knock the strap of your dress off your shoulder. you want it off, but he’s adamant that you leave it on. “you feel so good!” tears slip out of your eyes due to the pleasure you’re feeling. jihoon pulls the top of your dress down and lets your breasts spill free, the other strap sliding down your arm.

jihoons strokes begin to lose rhythm and his breathing becomes exceptionally labored. you know he’s close—you are too, unbelievably close—and you want to cum with him. reaching back, you call out his name and wiggle your fingers.. jihoon grabs onto your hand without a second thought, squeezing tightly as he continues to give you a few more powerful thrusts. “baby, i’m c-close,” you breathe, the knot tightening in your core.

“m-me too. wan’ c-come with y-you,” he grunts, thrusts becoming shallower by the second. you whimper and clench around him, crying out his name when you start to spasm around him, legs shaking.

jihoon grunts and holds your hip tightly to keep you in place, groaning out your name as he releases his load into you. he folds himself onto your back, unable to hold himself up any longer while he releases ropes of his cum into you. you appreciate the weight of him on you, keeps you from floating up and away from the present.

“fuck,” he breathes, pushing himself up and off of you and pulling out of you warmth with a whimper that makes you involuntarily clench around him. “baby.” jihoon pulls out of you and grabs at your waist, gently spinning you around and cradling you in his arms. you give him a blissed out smile, eyes low and tired, skin shiny from a thin layer of sweat.

“hi.”

“hey,” you smile at each other like two lovesick fools, and you push yourself up to his lips to give him a soft and sensual kiss. “i’m sorry.” he mumbles against your lips, hands grabbing the zipper of your dress and pulling it down, the cool air making goosebumps arise on your skin.

“you’re forgiven,” you say in a rush, letting the dress fall to the floor. you’ll get to the root of the apology later, but right now you still need him.

it’s desperate the way jihoon gets on the floor and pulls you down on top of him, guiding you over his dick. you plant your feet on either side of his hips and lower yourself onto his shaft, mouth dropping open at the sensation of being split open for the second time. “ah, jihoon, fuck!” you cry, planting a hand on his chest for stability. you won’t last long riding him—both of you know that—but you intend to make it count for as long as you can before your legs give out.

jihoon is in a trance watching you bounce on top of him, fully convinced that if he were to die right now this would be the way he’d love to go out: you on top of him in all your glory, fucking him—using him, like he’s your little toy. and he’s happy to be exactly that.

the squelching your cunt makes every time you drop down onto him pushes him closer to the edge. he can hardly keep his eyes open, but he wants to look at you, wants to watch you as you take everything he’s got, milk him for all he’s worth until there’s nothing left. “i-i missed this,” you moan, switching from bouncing up and down to rotating your hips, dropping down onto your knees. “missed you.”

“i’m all yours,” he breathes, whining when you lean back and hold onto his thighs, raising your hips and swirling on his lap. jihoon reaches forward and presses his thumb to your clit and rubs quick circles on the sensitive nub to get you to your release. “cmon, baby. i k-know you’re close.” he rasps, body flushed with heat.

with a few more rolls of your hips and jihoon rubbing on your clit, you’re coming for the third time. jihoon catches you when you collapse against his chest, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up, hard member still inside of you. he cradles you in his arms as he ruts his hips upwards, getting himself to his own release shortly after, your warm heat sucking him in completely.

for a few minutes, you two stay like that on the floor. he holds you against his chest, softly dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. he goes soft inside of you, but deep down he feels like he could go for a third round if he really puts himself to the test, but with the way you’re breathing he knows that you two are done for the night.

sitting in his arms, you clutch him like he’s going to slip from your grasp at any second. you try to push thoughts about your reality away, but the longer he holds onto you the more you realize this probably won’t last beyond tonight. you’re partly okay with it, because he comes home to you. but you miss him. “jihoon,” you murmur.

“hmm?”

“can we talk?”

“always. what’s up?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you pull your chin from his shoulder to look at him, placing your hands on his cheeks. “jihoon, i know you were… bothered… earlier today. talk to me, please,” you say, eyebrows furrowing. he sighs and hugs you back into his chest, feeling like he’s unable to look at you without feeling like crying.

“i know ive been a bad boyfriend. and i felt like shit today because i haven’t spent time with you in what feels like forever, and i just miss you so much, you know? and i love you so much, i don’t want to lose you—ever. and im just so, so sorry,” he rambles, clutching you tightly. your heart breaks for him and yourself. you’d never leave him, not over his job especially. you know he loves you, he shows it even where there is distance. but you appreciate him saying it out loud.

you pull back against his right hold on you, but he relents. “jihoon, im never going to leave you, okay? we just need to talk—you need to tell me when you feel any kind of way, okay? i love you, and you’re not going to lose me. i’m in this for the long haul,” you say, giving him a smile that makes the corner of his lip go up. for good measure, you give him a quick peck and run your hands through his hair. “i do wish you were around more, but i get it. i’ll always be here.”

he drops his head bashfully and sucks in a breath. “okay. i’m sorry.”

“you’re forgiven,” you say, kissing him once more. “but we need to get off this floor, hoon. i’m getting old.” you say, untangling yourself from him. you rise and let out a sigh at the loss of contact. your legs wobble and you catch yourself against the counter, glaring at jihoon when he chuckles. “it’s not funny.”

“it’s cute,” he says, standing up and picking up your guys’ clothes. he holds your dress in his hands and gives it a long look before lightly shaking his head.

“i’ll wear it more if it gets me fucked like this again.”

[azulpitlane]

new years day I ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader summary: in which lando reunites with his childhood crush and only has a few days after christmas to confess his feelings, slightly inspired by new years day by miss swift notes: pt 2 of just pr is still in the works! im also working on a few requests🤸‍♀️enjoy this for now and happy holidays!! masterlist

christmas eve

Lando's hands were shaking as he impatiently waited for you to greet him. It was his family's annual christmas eve party and he watched as his sisters and mother surrounded you the moment you walked through the doors. They hadn't seen you in so long so of course they insisted for you to attend the party this year. You had known Lando and his family since you were a kid seeing as you were childhood neighbors and grew up playing with him and his sisters. As you grew older, you attended his a few of his races and supported him every step of the way, but of course time and other responsibilities got in the way of your friendship. You began to grow apart over the last few years and it was starting to break Lando.

He hadn't even realized it was happening until you stopped attending the christmas parties 2 years ago, something about being too busy on work trips to come home. He had been so busy at the time with racing and having his own girlfriend that he did not even notice he had not seen his best friend in so long. After that he tried to reach out but again, time wasn't on your side because you were now too busy with your own work to keep up with the friendship for too long. Lando watched your life through your pictures on social media and felt his heart ache every time you posted, a reminder that you were growing and living a life without him.

But you were back now. And you looked even more beautiful than you did last time he saw you. You adorned a long dark red dress with black heels and Lando couldn't help but keep his gaze on solely you. You looked up as you felt his stare on you and smiled softly at him. Lando could feel like heart start to race as you excused yourself from the girls and start your way towards him.

"Lan, it's so great to see you. It's been so long!" You extended your arms as you hugged him, missing the feeling of his arms.

Lando's brain was too scattered to even respond so he just squeezed you and nuzzled his head in your neck. He couldn't believe you were back and in his arms. He wanted to stay there for the rest of the night and he couldn't help but wonder if you were feeling the same homey feeling he was. He felt you pull away and he almost pouted, thinking the hug was not long enough for his liking.

You looked at him softly and asked, "How's everything? I watched the races as much as I could and you did amazing this season! Congratulations."

You were always pretty but now? You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He felt like he was ten years old all over again, following you around like a puppy as he started developing his first real crush on a girl. He couldn't help it, you were always just so-

"Lando? Are you alright?'

He snapped out of his daze and realized how much of an idiot he must've looked. There you were talking to him and he did nothing but watch you in silence. He heard snickering and peaked over your shoulder and saw his sister watching the whole interaction with a teasing smile.

"Oh-yeah yeah. I was just zoned out there for a second haha um it's good to see you! Sorry, um what did you say before?" He could feel his face slightly heat up and he wanted to slam his head on the wall.

You giggled finding this situation amusing. You weren't used to seeing Lando like this and were a little confused on why he seemed nervous, but you quickly brushed it off and assumed he was just shocked to see you.

"I was congratulating you on your season, you did great!"

"You still watch my races?"

"Of course I do! I promised I would watch every race, remember?"

How could he forget? It was his first season in formula one and unfortunately you were too busy with school to travel with him, but before he left you pinky promised you would watch every race from that moment on. He never told you but he felt at ease knowing you were somewhere watching over him.

"Yeah, I remember."

You both spent the next hour catching up before your mothers interrupted you both saying it was time for dinner. They placed your seats together, wanting to see you both reunited after so long. They knew Lando was hopelessly in love with you, they were just waiting for you both to realize it.

The dinner felt nostalgic as you were all finally in the same room together. It was filled with laughs, catching up and stories from your childhoods. You and Lando shared stolen glances and flushed faces when someone caught the longing stares.

christmas

"She leaves right after new years day by the way." Lando's mother told him as she handed him a plate of breakfast.

"Who?"

She gave him a knowing glance and he looked down pretending like he hadn't been asking himself how much time he had before you left again and lose contact with you. Last night was amazing and he felt himself falling for you all over again. He always knew he liked you but the less he saw of you over the years, he thought those feelings dwindled. Last night proved that wrong. He tried to date other girls to forget you and it worked for a while until he started thinking of you and wondering how different things would be if he just confessed his feelings.

"Y/n. She's been so caught up in work she wants to go back to her job right away in Spain even though it's not mandatory. That girl needs a break."

"Maybe she's eager to get back because she's met a handsome spanish man." Lando's sister spoke up from beside him. He turned to her with a questioning gaze and she smirked at him.

"No. She didn't mention a guy at all last night. I doubt she's met anyone, right?" Lando's sister and mother watched as he slowly started to panic, his sister with a teasing grin and his mother with slight concern. "I mean if she's so busy with work she couldn't have time for any guy, yeah. Yeah no she can't be with anyone. Right?"

Silence.

"Flo what do you know? Did she say anything about a boyfriend?"

She burst out laughing as she watched her brother panic, she knew there was no other guy in the picture but she liked teasing her brother. Everybody knew about his love for you and though she found it amusing, she just wanted you two to be together already.

"I was just teasing! There is no guy calm down. But if don't confess about your pathetic little crush on her soon then there will be another guy whisking her away."

"What? Crush-no I don-"

"Save it. We all already know, except for her. And we're all getting a little tired of your obliviousness. Just confess before she leaves or you'll lose your chance to. She probably won't be back for another year and a lot can happen in that time span Lan."

2 days later

Lando had thought a lot about what his sister said and later that night decided to ask you to hang out over the phone. You agreed and he felt so relieved, planning on finally confessing his feelings. He psyched himself up and even got some advice from his sisters. Be a gentleman. Don't buy her flowers, you prefer chocolate. Dress nice but not like you're trying to hard. Go somewhere lowkey for dinner. Then take her on a walk and give her your jacket. Be honest. Tell her how you've always felt. If she feels the same, ask for a kiss. Take her home and walk her to the door.

The night had been going exactly as planned and there was never a moment of silence between you two as you made your way over to have dinner, always laughing and sharing stories with each other. That was until you said,

"The waitress totally has the hots for you."

"What! I don't think so." Truthfully Lando was so focused on you, that he could've easily missed her hitting on him. He quickly tried to deter the conversation and not talk about other women when he only wanted to talk about you.

"So what are you thinking of ordering?"

"Hm, I was thinking-wait the waitress is on her way here!"

"Are you guys ready to order?" She focused her gaze on Lando and gave him a sweet smile. He squirmed a bit as he could see you watching the interaction, holding in your laughter.

"Uh yeah, I'll have the pasta carbonara, please."

"Great choice. That's my favorite!"

"Oh how lovely, then i'll have the same thing."

"Perfect, are you two celebrating anything special tonight? An anniversary?"

You could barely contain your laughter, the girl seemed very sweet but you had no idea how Lando hadn't noticed she was clearly interested. She began throwing hints the moment she got their drinks and he was so oblivious to them, you found it funny.

"Um no, we're just two friends catching up."

Two friends? Catching up? Had he not made it clear this was a date?He thought back on the phone call and realized he had said 'hang out' and not explicitly date. Shit, how was he going to make it clear now?

"Lucky me then." She mumbled but you both heard it very clearly. You raised your eyebrows at Lando, wordlessly saying 'told you so'.

The rest of the dinner consisted of the waitress constantly interrupting and focusing her attention on Lando. He was beginning to get irritated but chose not to say anything, he did not want to come off as rude. Before you guys left, you got up to use the restroom and Lando used this time to check his phone. With him distracted, the waitress slipped her phone number in the pocket of his jacket that was hanging over his chair.

You both eventually walked out into the England cold and Lando suggested a walk, happy to get some time alone with you without getting interrupted. You told him you left your jacket in the car and Lando discreetly smiled. Perfect.

"No problem! Here, just take mine."

Before you could even protest, he was draping his jacket over your shoulders and you couldn't help but blush a little. So with flushed cheeks and brushing hands, you both walked and talked about everything and anything. As the winds started picking up, you slipped your arms in the jacket sleeves and put them in the pockets to warm your hands. You felt something in there and curiously took it out thinking it was just garbage.

Lovely to meet you tonight :) Call me xxx xxx-xxx-xxxx

You felt your heart drop. He actually took her phone number. You had found the whole flirting waitress thing funny because it was clear he didn't feel the same way but with him being too nice, he didn't say anything. You guess you were wrong. He was interested. Did he wait for you to leave to the bathroom to ask?

You quickly slipped the piece of paper back in the pocket and looked at him as he rambled about some story of his friend falling for his best friend. You couldn't listen anymore, you didn't even want to be there anymore. You thought maybe after tonight that he liked you back, but maybe that just wasn't the case.

"But yeah, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Like they had been friends for so long it was a matter of time before they, you know, got together." Lando knew he was trying a little too hard but he had no idea how to transition a normal conversation to a love confession. You had stopped responding and he looked down at you and saw you completely spaced out.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh yeah. Just cold. Maybe we should get going, you don't have a coat and it's getting colder."

Lando started panicking, he had completed all the other steps his sisters told him to do but he was about to miss the most important part.

"Oh don't worry about me. I'm fine, I promi-" Achoo!

"You're already getting sick! Come on let's go." You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards his car. He admitted defeat and let himself be dragged.

There was an odd silence on the car ride home and he felt confused on your sudden change of mood. How was he going to confess now? You were clearly tired and a love confession in his car is not exactly the romance he was looking for. As he pulled up to your homes you weakly smiled at him and took off his coat.

"Let me walk you up to your door."

"No it's fine, I can walk a few steps by myself." You didn't mean for it to come out so snarky but you couldn't help it. It stunned Lando and he suddenly felt like he had done something wrong.

"Oh um okay. I'll watch you just in case. But um I had a great time tonight. We should do this again before you leave."

"Yeah, of course."

"How about new years? I'm throwing a small gathering with Max at my old apartment. Do you um want to come with me?"

You should ask a girl you actually like instead of me. Is what you were thinking but instead you said,

"Yeah, sure."

"Great! I'll pick you up at around nine?"

"Sounds good."

One more chance to admit his feelings.

new years eve

"I dont know, she's been acting strange these past few days. Her texts are so dry and I even offered to take her shopping for an outfit tonight and she denied." Lando was starting to doubt himself, he thought about every moment during your little hangout and he couldn't think of anything he did wrong. Should he have rejected the waitress? Maybe he could've been more clear on it being a date?

"Stop overthinking mate, maybe she really just is busy. She's never home, im sure shes taking the time to catch up with friends and family." Max listened to his complaints all afternoon and was getting sick of it.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Stop doubting yourself bro and snap out of it. You have to pick her up soon and tonight's a great day to confess. Just have a drink or two for a little confidence, find somewhere quiet to do it and you'll have your midnights kiss on lock."

"Okay, okay. Tonight's the night."

"Exactly! Now go bring her here!"

Tonight was not the night.

You were wearing a small, tight black dress that made Lando's head spin, and apparently a lot of other men's too because you were constantly turning heads. It was beginning to bother him as he felt like he was competing for your attention all night which led to one too many drinks. He wasn't a fan of alcohol but he definitely needed the confidence boost and his jealousy from seeing you talk to other guys led to him staying at the bar for far too long.

He didn't realize how drunk he was until he got up from the couch to talk to you and the whole room began to spin. He stumbled slightly and Max quickly stood up to catch him.

"Woah, I said one or two drinks, how many have you had?!"

"Uhh I don't know like eight or nine or ten or maybe more, i don't know." His voice was slurred and Max winced knowing there was no way he could talk to you like this.

"Okay let's get you some water and maybe some bread? To soak all the alcohol up and then you can talk to y/n."

"Nah nah, I'm fine. Let me talk to her now."

"No bro listen-"

Lando pushed Max off of him and quickly made his way to you, eager to be in your presence. He interrupted your conversation with one of his friends that he couldn't quite name due to his blurred vision. He put his arm around your shoulder and put his weight on you causing you to stumble slightly.

"Y/N! Just the girl I was looking for, hey let's go somewhere quiet. I wanna talk."

"Okay? Are you alright, Lan? Maybe we should get you some water."

"No, no. Let's go outside for a bit." He interlocked your hands and stumbled out of the room, dragging you along. He leaned against one of the trees and faced you.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"You're so pretty."

You blushed and thanked god for the cold weather, so you had an excuse for your flushed cheeks. He pulled you closer and played with the hem of your dress.

"Thank you Lando. That's what you wanted to talk about?"

"No, well kinda." He paused as he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He took a quick deep breath and tried to swallow the feeling down.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale."

"Yes, I am-" There was that nausea again, except this time he couldn't swallow the feeling down and before he knew it he was throwing up.

"OH MY GOD! LAN."

Max heard the commotion and immediately made his way towards you. His eyes widen as he looked at you with Lando's throw up on the lower half of your dress and looking like you wanted to hurl yourself. He ran back in and got you napkins before going back out.

"Oh god, here you y/n take these and go into Lando's old room upstairs, first door on the right. There's a bathroom in there and spare clothes you can use."

"Thank you Max, do you need me to bring him water?"

"No no I got it from here, just go clean yourself up."

Lando continued to empty his stomach as Max winced but continued to rub his back. After he finished he grabbed a water bottle and took him upstairs to his old bed.

"There you guys are! How are you doing Lan, do you need anything?" You said as you walked out of the bathroom in a new change of clothing.

Even in his drunken state, he couldn't help but to feel embarrassment. He had just fucked up his chance, and it wasn't even midnight yet.

"I'm so so sorry y/n. I'm so embarrassed, I had too much to drink and I didn't mean to, I swear!" He slurred out.

"It's okay Lando, I promise. Here, lie down for a little bit and drink some water, it will make you feel better."

Max smiled as he watched you take care of his idiotic friend and walked out to give you some privacy.

"Im so stupid. Im sorry, y/n."

"Stop apologizing Lan! I promise you, I am fine. Now close your eyes you look tired."

"But it's not midnight yet."

"That's okay, it will be a new year when you wake up."

You had no idea that the real reason he wanted to stay up was to be your new years kiss. Another plan down the drain. He pouted as he looked at you, you're leaving soon and who knows when he'll see you again.

"Come on, stop pouting. I'll watch over you as you sleep."

"Really?" He looked at you with childlike excitement as his green eyes widened at you.

"Of course, now scooch over."

You both missed the fireworks and celebrations of the new year but that was okay, you were safe in each others arms sleeping.

Lando woke up quite early considering how early he fell asleep the night before. He looked down on your sleeping figure on his chest. He thought hard about what happened last night for you to end up in his arms. The memories came quickly, the dress, the drinks, then the puke. He scrunched his face up and fought the urge to groan in embarrassment. He couldn't believe he managed to fuck up again. He sighed then carefully got up to get some painkillers for his throbbing headache.

He went down to the kitchen and looked around at the mess from the party. Glitter on floor, bottles everywhere, polaroids laying around on the floor. He couldn't stop thinking about last night and started to pick some garbage up to get his mind off of it. He almost wanted to cry, though you were nice about it, it was still a hard blow to his ego. He looked like some idiot who couldn't hold his alcohol in front of you and he wondered if you changed your perception of him after last night. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear you come down. He was startled by the sudden movement in the corner of his eye causing him to drop the bottle in his hands. Shit. He quickly tried to pick up some of the big pieces up which was a big mistake since he accidentally cut his hand in the process.

"Im so sorry Lan, I didn't mean to scare you. You're bleeding now, let me see."

Of course it was you. Another embarrassing moment to add to the list.

"It's okay, I'm the idiot who grabbed the glass."

You gently grabbed his hand then led him to the bathroom where you had seen a first aid kit. You were so soft and gentle with him as you cleaned the cut in his hand. The mix of you nursing his bleeding hand with last night's disaster and his hangover had his mind foggy and emotional. Lando's eyes began to tear up and he couldn't even pinpoint why. Was he still drunk? Is it because you're leaving tomorrow and he didn't confess? Or was it the embarrassment from last night?

"There you go, good as new." You looked up and you were faced with his pained expression and immediately began to panic. You knew Lando wasn't emotional, over the years you had known him you had only seen him cry a few times.

"Lan, what's going on? What's wrong?"

Your worry was his breaking point and the tears began to fall. You quickly pulled him into your embrace and rubbed his back in hopes of comforting him.

"I'm sorry, this is so stupid. God why the fuck am I crying right now?"

"No, no if it's bothering you it's not stupid and whatever it is, you can tell me, I won't judge."

You pulled away and even though you were confused with his behavior the last few days, you wiped off the tears from his face and were willing to do anything to make him feel better.

"Talk to me Lan."

"I love you."

"What?"

His eyes widened as the words accidentally slipped out his mouth. He didn't mean to say them but you were being so sweet and gentle with him even after everything. There goes the romantic confession.

"No! Um I didn't mean that, I don't even like you."

"Oh."

"NO! Ughh, fuck it."

He grabbed your face and pulled your lips together. You quickly kissed him back and felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. Neither of you could believe this was happening right now, but you were both so content with the moment. Once you pulled away, he kept his hand on your face and smiled at you softly.

"Please don't go tomorrow."

"I won't."

notes: this was not proofread at all so if there were mistakes...my bad

[hpimagines]

Controlling Tom Riddle

Honestly idk what to classify this as, but it’s kinda like idk.. deranged? maybe not but I have more like this up my sleeve if it does well (TW: manipulation, unspoken gaslighting, extremely controlling, idk what else to add)

You loved Tom. You truly, truly did. But he tended to take the term "I just want to lock you up" a little too seriously.

I mean, it wasn’t much at first, barely even noticeable in fact. Simple things such as suggesting what you should wear, insisting the more modest options were much more flattering on you; “It brings out your eyes, doll.”

He would remind you of your favorite foods, and when to and when not to eat them.. “Not now, it’s far too late for late night snacks. However, I have something I think might suffice for you.”

Overtime the helpful things became him controlling everything you wore, no shirts were allowed to be low enough cut for anyone to see down- tall people included. You wanted to comfortably wear your uniform? Absolutely not. It had to be perfect, and to show just how much of a “good girl” you are for him, you get cute bows in your hair every morning; special spell from him.

His behavior didn’t bother you, how could it? Yes you couldn’t wear certain things, but everything you got in return was amazing. Nobody understands him the way you do, they don’t know him like you do. That’s what you’re constantly telling your friends. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s romantic.”

Romance? It really is funny how blurry the lines get between romance and control, dress up per se? Once again with the dressing you- believe me, he spoils your beyond belief. Though, most of it is “My eyes only.” Slowly your closet went from things you’ve gotten from friends, shirts you once loved, to everything Tom approved.

It didn’t matter though, because he still spoils you.

Being in class was an entirely different story. In the beginning you simply couldn’t speak to any other guys, you understood, not wanting him interacting with girls either it seemed fair. Until you couldn’t sit with any of them, problem being, its not like you can just chose where you sit everytime. That doesn’t matter to Tom though, “You seemed to betray me today hun.” Nice name, yet the tone anything but.

It was pretty sudden when Tom just happened to to become your seating partner in every single class, and yes, that somehow included ones he once hadn’t attended. But this was a good thing. You got to be with your boyfriend all day long, that’s so exciting. Watching your every move, telling you what you did wrong on your work “Can’t have a dumb girl, can I doll?”

It was sweet. He was being helpful, you always had help. Just don’t ask for too much, then that makes you stupid, idiotic, dense. That’s according to him though, and yes his words. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’d do without me, you’re just so mindless most of the time. It’s infuriating”

But no matter what it’s always okay because, “You know I never mean what I say, Love. I’ll take you out, even buy you something new”

You see, none of this happened quickly. It was like one moment you controlled your life, the next moment you didn’t. You lived in his dorm, once again don’t ask how, Tom Riddle has his ways. He chose your outfits the days no uniforms were needed, but of course only because “I just love picking out what my girl wears, you love it too, don’t you, hm?”

Now here you are, unable to speak to anyone really, no boys, no friends because well, they only attract unwanted male attention of course. It was crazy to think you’d leave your friends behind for a boy, not just your friends really more like your entire old life, but Tom wasn’t just any boy. No, he had full control over you and you both knew it. You loved it.

I know im saying idk a lot but idk how i feel about this 😭😭

once again i hope you all enjoy <33

[airbendertendou]

a small compilation of moments between autistic!reader + connor happy disability pride month <3

anon requested : hi! i was wondering if you could do something with connor and the autistic reader and like them going nonverbal and how he would handle that? You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna! :)

please do not use this as a way to self-diagnose. having one thing in common does not necessarily mean you are autistic. im not a therapist or doctor, if you think you’re on the spectrum, talk to them. <3

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

temperature irregulation ♥︎

hank was a firm believer in a cold house. when the summer season came and brought a heatwave with it, the older man wouldn’t allow anything other than a brisk, chilly living room.

it was often you’d come over to go over old cases and study with hank. interning with the detroit police department was fun — the academy, however, you could live without. you’d learned to dress warm when visiting hank’s house, having a hard time warming up once you were cold.

“here,” a thicker sweater is placed over the couch, the sleeve laying on your shoulder. you take it without thought, swapping your thinner one for the new one. connor smiles at the pattern on your fuzzy socks, the sight of your toes curling in delight at the warmth bringing something tender to his brain. “better?”

you nod with a hum, “thanks, detective.”

hank rolls his eyes, hiding the curl of his lips at your obliviousness. “anyways, as i was saying—”

[interrupted] routine ♥︎

every day at 12:10 pm, you’d wander into the breakroom for a snack and drink refill. connor didn’t mean to memorize your specific regimen — but after watching you do the same thing for a week straight, it stuck to his mind.

you loitered in the doorway to the breakroom, peeking in occassionally to see if it’d emptied out any. gavin caught your gaze, rolling his eyes at your hesitance. it was then you spotted the mug in his hands — your mug, the one you always used. your frown deepened.

connor budged his way into the crowd, bumping into gavin and causing his drink to spill. every curse leaving the human’s mouth went ignored — connor only watched as you cowered away from gavin’s angry steps as he left. grabbing the dropped mug, connor rinsed it four times before holding it out to you shyly.

you crept into the breakroom, grabbing the handle of the mug and shooting the android a thankful grin.

stimming with pressure ♥︎

hank opened the door to his house with a sigh. connor’s eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, questioning the elder silently. hank leans against the door, “[name]’s been here a while, s’all. won’t leave my bathtub.”

a safe zone, connor concludes, somewhere small and compact ; where you could see every corner and every threat. he makes his way to the bathroom without another thought, pausing at the sight of you.

your eyes are closed, face crumpled in displeasure as you clench and unclench your fists in a pattern. connor knocks on the door, announcing his presence without startling you. your eyes fly open, “hello, detective.”

“you can call me connor, if you’d like.” the android steps further into the bathroom slowly, allowing you to object if you need to. your eyes stay on him — his thirium pump stutters in his chest. “anything i can do to help?”

taking in a deep breath, you puff your cheeks as you release the air. “maybe. if you don’t think it’s weird.”

connor stares down at you, his upper lip curled in hesitance as you lay in hank’s bed. you adjust yourself, wiggling around until you’ve splayed your limbs where you want them. you blink up at him, “well?”

“it is a little... strange.” connor tries to be nice, he really does. but asking an android to lay on you — to put their full weight on you — he’s concered. “i will crush you.”

you roll your eyes, “i have a weighted blanket at home ; it’s no different.”

“i weigh quite a bit more than—”

“are you going to lay on me or not, connor?”

maybe it was the sound of you saying his name for the first time ; maybe it was the way you looked so defeated. whatever it was, connor found himself laying on you as gently as he could. the relaxation was immediate — he could feel the breath of relief you let out ; the way your body sagged.

you fell asleep that way — with connor holding his breath and tensing up the closer you got.

sensory overload ♥︎

the scene you were going to was a lot. it was nighttime now, the sirens and flashing lights bringing everyone’s attention this way. hank leaves the car first, grumbling as he goes. the sound that leaks through his open door causes you to whimper.

connor turns his head to you, “everything alright?”

your gaze hasn’t left the window as you squint, blinking at all of the lights. you gulp before biting your lip. “i’ll be fine. this is what i signed up for.”

you’re barely out of the car and already wincing at the noise and the lights. you can’t see hank ; can’t hear or understand anything being said around you. the world is blinking in hues of red and blue, wailing sirens going off with every flash of the lights.

the sound grows muffled as soft and sturdy hands cup your ears. a thumb moves from your ear briefly, just long enough for you to hear a whisper. “close your eyes and i’ll lead you into the house. that’s where the lieutenant is.”

trusting connor’s words — a little too easily — you squeeze your eyes shut. your hands go up to cover his, sealing your ears from the harsh sounds around you. stumbling a little here and there, you eventually feel a difference in temperature as you enter the house.

letting out a sigh, your shoulders moving with the motion, slowly your eyes peel open. you glance at connor, ignoring the tenderness of his gaze. “thanks, connor.”

he lets out a deep breath, ignoring the sly grin hank sends his way. “no problem, [name].” 

verbal shutdown ♥︎

it happened so quick. your safe foods had vanished from their designated cabinet ; your chair’s wheel was squeaking incessently ; hank hadn’t shown up today. everything was piling on and you finally exploded.

the evidence locker was empty as you shakily typed in hank’s password. you hit the wrong button a few times, squeezing your eyes together at the little beeps. your breathing picks up — you hold it in your chest and shake your hands, releasing the tension built inside you.

you all but crawl into the secure room, your back hitting the wall as you sit down. your eyes squeeze shut again and you go through the motions, choosing the less destructive ways to calm yourself down.

none of them work.

when connor finds you, you’re drawing shapes on the floor with your finger. you’ve curled into yourself, not making a sound ; your usual means of comfort absent from your lips. he walks to you cautiously, “[name]? hank has returned. he’s asking to see you.”

you don’t move ; not a sound falls from your lips. connor sits in front of you, crossing his legs as he waits. from his suit pocket comes a ring of multicolored notecards — your eyes flash to his at the sight of them. connor holds them out further so that you can see them properly. “want to use these?”

a miniscule nod, but it’s enough to make him smile. “alright,” he flicks through the blue cards — feelings. stopping at your set of upset verbs, he slides the ring your way. “any of these describe how you’re feeling?”

a shaky finger hits the word overstimulated before dragging over to panic. connor nods, flipping to the pink set — solutions. “what do you want to do? go home ; nap ; have a snack ; get your puzzle book ; coloring book...” connor holds them up to you, reading out each one until you nod — except you don’t. pausing, connor speaks up again, “want me to leave?”

you shake your head. slowly, your hand crawls across the floor until it meets his. you nudge his hand, curling your fingers under his. connor holds his breath, adjusting your fingers until you’re holding hands properly. his eyes stay to the floor, “this is okay, too. let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

emotional regulation ft. lots of crying ♥︎

“connor,” your voice brings him out of his work. standing beside his desk, connor watches as you sway side to side. he tilts his head and it makes your eyes water. “i’m going to cry.”

that was his cue to take you into his arms. connor stands to do so, gathering your body against his and rocking you side to side slowly. your body hiccups a few times, sniffles leaving your nose occassionally. you seem to calm down even more as he rubs your back soothingly — connor’s led light flashes yellow as he stores that information for later.

you pull away with a deep breath, rubbing your face with the hoodie you’re wearing. connor frowns, “better?”

you nod, “needed that. thank you.”

“want to tell me what upset you? only if you want to.”

connor never knew what to expect your answer to be. sometimes you just shook your head and snuggled close to him again. other times, you did talk about why you were crying and it made connor realize the extent of human emotions. 

“no more chocolate in the snack cabinet.”

“had a nice dream.”

“hank is wearing yellow.”

“it’s such a pretty day today!”

“too much noise.”

“gavin cut his hair.”

you let out another sniffle, lips pouting in thought. “not too sure this time. jus’ felt like i needed to cry.”

connor nods to himself, his led light whirring yellow once more. “i’m glad you feel comfortable with me, [name]. i’ll be here if you need another cry.”

you grin, meeting his eyes for a brisk second before reaching out to hold his hand. you swing your entwined hands lightly, grin softening into something gentle. “i know. thanks, con.”

the detective was sure he’d implode because of you soon. just not yet — not when you’re still holding his hand.

——♥︎—— for some reason my brain tells me to only write autistic readers n pair them w connor. like?? work w me here!! anyways. i hope this was okay, remember to take your meds, drink some water and have a nice snack!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.