#BOTH OF THESE MOMENTS?? IN THE SAME DAY?!??!!?!

[xshadowdelta]

FORMER MANAGER

PART 4: Like a tulip.

Kazuha x Male Reader (4K length)

Your hands were gripping the steering wheel of the car tightly, you were still in disbelief at everything that was happening, as if some divinity up there was playing with you for fun, and its enjoyment involved seeing you suffer every fucking moment of the day.

The red light of the traffic light forced you to brake and stop the car for a few seconds. You looked out of the corner of your eye towards the passenger seat, there she was, sitting looking out the window while the fingers of her hands played between them, showing a clear sign of nervousness. Kazuha Nakamura had become, without foreseeing it, the biggest headache of your entire life.

It's not that you had gotten used to sexual encounters with your former Iz*One members, but after what had happened in the last few days, you wouldn't have been surprised if a few more had arisen or even were going to arise in the future, since they seemed to be competing for you or something, something you hadn't been able to figure out yet.

But this totally escaped logic and compromised you enormously, you had in your car an idol whom you had never had under your tutelage, whom you did not know at all, and who had made you an irrational request, to say the least. 

“Can you have sex with me the same way you have sex with Chaewon unnie?”

That phrase kept echoing inside your head. Despite your attempt to hide that 'professional opinion' session, it seemed that Kazuha had perfectly realized what you had done in that practice room.

You didn't even have time to make an excuse or a lie, you had been hunted in such an obvious way that denying it would only complicate this situation even more.

Before you could realize it and without even having accepted her request, you were already leaving the Hybe compound, but with more company than the one you entered with, thanking the gods that your company vehicle had completely opaque window glass.

Neither of you had spoken a single word during the journey, which made the atmosphere feel even more tense and heavier than it would normally be. You wanted to start a conversation or ask a question, but the words just wouldn't come out of your mouth.

“Turn right on that street.” She commented, pointing her finger in the right direction.

And this was another big problem: your destination place. You had really gotten into the car without a fixed direction in your mind. Should you take an idol to your house? Was that right? And what would happen if someone saw you on the street and treacherously took a photo? Could it be camouflaged as part of a television program? Was a hotel suitable? You didn't believe it, but if so, it must be one suitable for celebrities, something you couldn't afford.

You parked the car, following another signal from the girl, in one of the free spots and got out, going around it to reach the passenger door, doing a complete sweep of the area, and opening the door once there was not a single living being. in your range of vision.

Kazuha quickly left and, taking some keys out of her bag, opened the door of one of the buildings, giving you way and successfully completing the first checkpoint.

He called the elevator, and you both went up, still in pure silence. You looked at her through the elevator mirror automatically, she looked back at you through the mirror and blushed, she quickly looked away.

She left in terror when the elevator opened its doors again, yes, taking one of your hands, practically dragging you after her. Your nerves increased when you felt the softness of her hand, wasn't it crazy? Now you were behaving as if you were still a teenager going through puberty.

You entered the interior of one of the apartments, which looked large and spacious from the inside despite only seeing the hall for the moment. "Where are we?” You heard your own voice for the first time in a long time, wondering why she had brought you to that place.

“It's LE SSERAFIM's bedroom.” She answered, taking off her shoes.

Knowing where you were scared you to death, you were in unstable territory. Stepping into that apartment had to be the closest you're going to get to a war camp, with too many people who could come and go at any moment and catch you in the middle of the action.

“The rest of the members are very busy and won't come until the evening, and our staff doesn't usually barge in without warning.” It was certainly relaxing to know that, but still, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. Kazuha unexpectedly took your hand again and dragged you down the main hallway of the apartment, passing by the living room and the kitchen until you entered one of the bedrooms.

The bedroom itself was quite simple, some large beds pushed together, a small desk with a chair decorated with clothes and various junk on top, and a closet built into the wall. You diverted your gaze to the corners and blind spots of the room in search of possible cameras, it wouldn't be the first time that after recording one of those home realities they forget to remove them.

The girl was quick to turn on the light in the room and close the window despite it being broad daylight, seeking to create a more intimate and safe environment.

You turned around, looking around at the entire bedroom, paying special attention to the pile of clothes scattered on the desk chair. She noticed this and, embarrassed, ran there to put all those clothes in the closet in a disorderly manner.

“Sorry, Chaewon unnie and I were a little late this morning.” Great, so this bedroom also belonged to Chaewon.

“Kazuha-ssi, I think you've rushed into all this, I... we shouldn't be here. I'm flattered, really, but I don't think you're aware of what this means."

She walked towards you and took your hands in hers, looking into your eyes with that look that begged you.

“I've wanted to do this for a long time, but I didn't know how. I'm too shy to approach some other random guy and propose this kind of thing out of the blue.” You laughed inside yourself, what she was saying had nothing to do with the spontaneous request she made to you. “I wanted to wait for the right moment and the right person.” Her fingers caressed the palms of your hands.

“I'm definitely not that person.” The expression on your face became more serious now. "You are!” She snapped loudly, making you step back in surprise. “I mean, I know Chaewon unnie very well. She wouldn't have done anything like that with you if she didn't have complete trust and deep respect for you, and that's more than enough for me.”

“But that's not how it should work, you shouldn't do this with some random guy you don't know at all like me, it should be with someone you love, someone you love from the bottom of your heart.” “You sound like the protagonist of a kdrama.” A small smile now graced her face. “Look, it's not that I'm a virgin, nor an expert, but I'm enough of an adult to know that I can have sex without commitment with whoever I want.”

The truth is that she was not wrong, perhaps you had seen too much fiction lately, after all, the vast majority of humans today had sexual relations guided more by vice and lust than by love.

You still had time to run out of there, you knew that she had nothing against you, she would never tell what she knew, and she loved Chaewon too much to harm her dear unnie. This was never about blackmail, just a favor, no one was forcing you to do anything.

That's what you told yourself internally over and over again.

‘This is not right.’

'Why don't my legs react?'

'I have to get out of here as soon as possible.'

'Fuck, she's beautiful.' Wait, what?

You stared at her for the first time in all this time, indeed, she was pretty and beautiful to look at, like a flower blooming in a beautiful meadow surrounded by huge green trees and a bright sun.

She was also attractive, you could see how well trained her body was. Her legs looked toned, and the lower part of her abdomen that did not cover her shirt was better worked than yours. She had an aura of tenderness and sensuality around her that was difficult to find.

Suddenly, in a burst of bravery, Kazuha raised her hands to your face, holding your cheeks to give you a small kiss on the lips. You wanted to resist, you really did, but who knows if, in order not to hurt her, you reciprocated that kiss by taking her waist with your hands.

“Everything you say is true, but also believe me when I say I want you to fuck me, oppa." She whispered against your lips.

"Kazuha, you're asking too much of me." Your lips were now moving unconsciously over hers.

"I don't think so." She chuckled, bringing one of her hands to your bulging crotch, gently caressing that area of your pants. She stood on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to your ear. "Don't you want to know how flexible I can be?” That whisper hit you squarely. It would have been a K.O. if we were in a boxing match. Your skin crawled just thinking and imagining certain scenarios, and the bulge in your crotch only grew under the touch of her delicate hand.

You let out a sigh, you sounded defeated, and you actually were. How could you be so fucking weak? Why were you trapped in a spiral of sex with gorgeous girls with beautiful bodies? And why were you martyring yourself for it when anyone would sign with their own blood to take your place? You didn't have the answer to any of those questions.

“Lie on the bed.” Despite your obvious annoyed tone, Kazuha's smile did not fade but rather widened, and she followed your instructions.

Immediately the Japanese idol was lying on her back, with her legs dangling from the edge of the bed, undoing the button on her jeans and slowly lowering them to your delight.

You knelt on the floor right in front of the bed, between her legs, starting to touch her thighs and going down her legs at the same time as her pants were going down.

You noticed how her skin stood on end under your hands, it burned, and you verified it with your own lips when you leaned your head over Kazuha's body, spreading a few kisses on the part of her abdomen that the shirt did not cover.

Her toned abs contracted as she felt your lips on them, your hands joined hers on either side of her legs, finishing off her pants in a single pull.

Your kisses marked a downward path towards the girl's panties while your hands took the opposite route, going from her legs to her hips, moving upwards slowly caressing every centimeter of skin.

A new piece of clothing was recognized as the next enemy, as your hands fisted the hem of her shirt. She understood quickly, and with an agile and quick movement, she slid the garment over her head and threw it away, landing somewhere on the floor of the room.

You kissed her pussy over the fabric of her panties making her moan, and then your tongue began to create lines of saliva before starting to move as if it were a normal cunnilingus.

Even though the panties continued to act as a barrier between your tongue and her pussy, the caresses you provided were felt on her body in a remarkable way, proof of this were the moans that Kazuha expelled from her mouth.

Her pussy was getting wetter due to the excitement, starting to leak down her thighs and even going through her panties, as your tongue began to enjoy the taste of the girl's intimacy.

You sat up a little and jumped on the bed, being careful with her delicate body so as not to hurt her, remaining on top of her, and going directly to kiss and lick her neck as an attack.

Her moans became noticeable again, with an increase in volume and much closer to your ears. However, she was a fighter, and although she seemed to be completely under your control, she managed to take off your shirt and expose your torso, which she did not hesitate to touch and caress.

You ceased the attack on her neck, moving back a little, allowing her to kiss your bare skin, causing you to sigh occasionally. You crouched over her again, kissing her lips deeply, taking her cheeks in your hands.

“Condoms?” You asked the instant the kiss broke.

She pointed out the nightstand next to the bed, and you jumped out of the bed again to approach the designated piece of furniture, opening it and finding a box of condoms still sealed.

You were opening it as you walked back, placing yourself in the starting position, facing her between her legs. You looked up and could see that there was no longer a trace of her panties.

You smiled, finally opening the package of condoms, taking one between your fingers, and placing it on the mattress. You needed both hands free to finish undressing completely. 

Kazuha sat up slightly on the bed so she could look directly at your now-naked cock, opening her mouth shocked by its size and almost reflexively opening her legs wider, giving you a much better view of her wet and shiny entrance.

You placed one knee on the bed, bringing your penis closer to her vagina, one hand holding your dick firmly and the other gripping one of the young girl's pale thighs.

"Wait! The condom…OH!” Her words were interrupted by a violent moan.

She was right, you hadn't put on the condom yet, but you didn't need it for the idea you had in mind, which consisted of rubbing the folds of her pussy with your cock over and over again without actually inserting it inside.

That game seemed to take its toll on Kazuha, who was now trying to silence her sounds by putting both hands over her mouth and allowing you to play with her intimate area to your pleasure.

Your penis soon became well lubricated after being rubbed mercilessly by the wetness of the Japanese pussy, at which point you decided that it was now possible to start the real action.

Now you wrapped your penis in the latex of the condom to bring it closer to the female entrance again, this time with the intention of entering her. You looked one last time into Kazuha's eyes, waiting for one last step back that never came, quite the opposite in fact.

She placed her hands on her thighs, separating her legs as much as she could, leaving you amazed at her incredible flexibility and increasing your excitement as you witnessed that move.

The tip of your penis made contact with her vagina, making you both moan slightly, moans that increased as more inches entered her cavity.

As you expected, Kazuha's insides felt tight, although you had to admit that it was less than you had originally imagined, because the truth is that most of your cock entered without any problem. You gave her a few seconds for her insides to adjust to your size before you started moving.

You started to move slowly, moving in and out slowly and careful not to hurt her, but she seemed to be enjoying it.

“God, you're stretching me so much... It feels so good.”

That gave you the green light to increase the pace, your hips moved faster, introducing you deeper into her. At this point, her pussy was already able to swallow the entire length of your penis without problems.

Kazuha's moans quickly turned into pleas, letting her get carried away by excitement and asking you to go even further.

“AH! Please…more… AH…MORE!”

She raised one of her legs to your shoulder, leaving her foot at the height of your head, leaving the other still resting on the bed. That only deepened your attacks against her even more.

You wrapped your closest hand around the thigh of her leg that was hanging from you, and your other hand went behind her head, grabbing the back of her neck, bending over her, and moving at a hard and incessant pace.

Kazuha's intense moans were only stopped when your lips joined hers in a kiss, just as intense as the clash between your hips. Everything was so intense that tiredness immediately began to appear in you.

After a few more minutes of fun, you wanted to change positions, now lying on your back on the bed, motioning to the girl to sit on your lap with her back to you.

You kissed the back of her neck and her back as she got into position, turning her head for a moment and demanding another kiss on the lips that you didn't deny her.

She raised her body enough so that in one quick movement your cock entered deeply inside her again, causing a sensation of incredible pleasure in both of you.

The girl placed both hands on your thighs to begin jumping on your penis, again and again, without stopping and emitting sweet and erotic moans for each thrust that your cock gave her as it lowered her body.

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her back, causing a small cry of surprise from her and causing her back to collide with your chest.

You once again had control of the situation, you once again imposed the rhythm of the penetrations to your liking and what was best for you.

From this position, you were once again able to attack Kazuha's neck at will, which for some reason had become one of your favorite regions of her body, and she seemed to love it too.

Your bodies were totally immersed in the heat of the moment, eager for each other's contact, roaring for sex, and sweating from the furious action, the temperature of the room had risen some degrees since you entered through the door.

Once again the idol raised her legs, surrounding them with her own arms, preventing them from falling, thus making your attacks clean and direct against her pussy, which you began to notice how it contracted, squeezing your cock against its walls, making you moan louder.

“Shit, Kazuha, your pussy...”

“Please don't stop now! I’m so close!”

Listening to the girl's request and with the aim of releasing yourselves sexually as soon as possible, you gave everything you had left, placing your hands on her butt and attacking her frantically, feeling how after some hard thrust you came brutally, filling the condom with your cum.

“AH! YES! OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAH!”

That liberating scream was followed by her body arching over yours, your hands quickly rising to her hips, pressing her against your body again, and leaving both of you gasping noticeably trying to recover from the intense orgasms.

Kazuha leaned her head back with her body resting on top of yours, trying to compose herself from the tremendous ecstasy you had made her feel. She turned her head to look into your eyes, just inches from your face.

“Now I can understand Chaewon unnie.” She murmured, offering you a soft smile, trying to hide her tired expression.

You, on the other hand, did not hide it at all, you continued searching for air almost desperately, and the fact of having her on top of you did not help, but the truth is that you were not going to complain about it.

“You are definitely very flexible.” You spoke, making her laugh softly, and then kissed her lips, passing your arms around her stomach area, surrounding and hugging her, lying there for a few minutes.

.

.

.

You left the group's apartment after making sure that Kazuha was in good condition. She said goodbye to you very happily, with her eyes giving off a special shine and giving you a small kiss on the cheek, making you both blush.

You drove back to your own house, a little rest wouldn't hurt to clarify all your ideas, but with a firm decision. You had to end your sexual encounters with idols immediately. That was obvious, but would you be able to cut it short? You assumed only the future would know for sure.

You entered your apartment, tired, extremely tired, but you still managed to find the energy to move your butt to the bathroom and get into the bathtub for a long half hour that left you almost as good as new.

You were now wearing your two-piece pajama with a shirt and pants, walking around the living room while drying your damp hair with a towel. You heard the sound of the doorbell, it seemed that the delivery man you had contacted had arrived to deliver your dinner. You put the towel aside, and with your hair still a little wet and messy that fell on your forehead, you approached the door.

You opened the door, but, to your surprise, the person on the other side was not who you expected. A young girl with black hair tied up in a bun, somewhat taller than average and with a slim but very elegant figure.

That girl seemed very familiar to you, the fact that she was wearing sunglasses late at night made it a little more difficult for you to recognize her, but you quickly realized it.

“Wonyoung…”

The sudden sound of a slap echoed throughout the house, silencing you. Your left cheek turned a reddish color at the same time as a burning sensation began to sting. Your face was now looking to the side due to the unexpected slap that the young woman had given you.

You took a step back, trying to stabilize your body so as not to fall, and directed one of your hands to the affected area of your face. Your eyes were wide open, as was your mouth, you didn't know what was happening, unable to understand anything.

When you returned to this world, you looked towards the door again, finding yourself facing the wall of the hallway.

You ran out of your apartment, finding Wonyoung a few meters later walking towards the exit of the building.

"Hey! Jang Wonyoung! What the hell do you think..."

You grabbed her arm, applying some force, without excess, to make her turn towards you, but your words fell into the void when you glimpsed her red face and how some tears formed a path from her eyes, hidden behind those sunglasses until they ended up on her chin.

She didn't say anything, you could only hear her weak crying and sobs that penetrated your soul and stabbed directly into your heart.

Still confused, you loosened your grip on her arm, and with that she got rid of you, setting off on her way again, but this time you didn't follow her, you stayed there, absorbed, with no other possibility than to see her back moving further and further away.

[faebled-stories]

More Than Enough

Kinkvember Day 20: Tender/Body Appreciation

Red Velvet Joy (Park Sooyoung) x Male reader

AN: Much softer fic for today compared to the past couple ones.

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the walls as the night settled in. You lay under the covers, your phone in hand, its soft glow casting faint shadows on the walls. The lavender scent from Sooyoung’s pillow surrounded you, mingling with the warmth of the sheets. It should have been comforting—everything about this space usually was—but tonight, it felt distant, like a faint echo of a memory you couldn’t quite reach.

That photo lingered in your mind, an unwelcome ghost haunting the edges of your thoughts.

You’d stumbled upon it earlier that week, scrolling aimlessly through social media. It appeared with cruel precision: Sooyoung’s ex, fully naked, entangled with the woman he’d cheated on her with. The image was intimate, raw, and brimming with confidence. But it wasn’t just his chiseled abs or the smug grin on his face—it was him.

His large, imposing frame; the effortless way he exuded certainty; and the undeniable size of his manhood, a detail impossible to ignore. It was the kind of comparison that clung to you, reshaping your perception of yourself no matter how much you tried to shake it.

No matter how many times you remind yourself that Sooyoung had chosen you, that she loved you, the doubts wouldn’t quiet. Did she ever look at him the way she looked at you? Did she tell him she loved him with the same tenderness? Did she mean it as much?

The sound of running water stopped, followed by the faint squeak of the shower handle turning. Moments later, the bathroom door opened, and a warm cloud of steam spilled out into the room. Sooyoung stepped through, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders, her bare skin glowing in the light that spilled out from behind her. Her bare feet padded softly across the hardwood floor as she crossed the room without hesitation, pulling back the covers to slip in beside you.

Her warmth enveloped you instantly, her body fresh from the shower, her skin carrying the faint, floral sweetness of her body wash. The scent blended with the lingering musk from your earlier intimacy, wrapping around you both like a cocoon. She nestled against your chest, her bare leg draping over yours, her damp hair brushing against your skin.

“You’re still awake?” she murmured, her voice soft and curious.

You quickly slipped your phone under the pillow, as if hiding it could keep the storm inside you from spilling out. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a weak smile. “Just… thinking.”

Sooyoung tilted her head, her eyes flicking upward to meet yours. Her fingers began tracing lazy patterns on your stomach, the motion light and soothing. “Hmm,” she hummed softly, her tone unconvinced but not pushing yet.

She shifted closer under the covers, the softness of her skin brushing against you, the heat of her body settling into yours. “I missed you,” she whispered, her voice tinged with affection. “All I could think about was coming home to you.”

Her words should have reassured you. Any other night, they would have. But tonight, they only deepened the ache in your chest. Why me? Why now? Why not him?

“You okay?” she asked after a moment, her fingers stilling against your chest. Her tone grew more serious, her brows furrowing slightly as she searched your face.

You nodded quickly, forcing your voice to sound steady. “Yeah, same as you—long day.”

She watched you for a moment longer, her gaze lingering like she was trying to read between the lines. Then she leaned up, her lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was warm and familiar, but your mind remained distant. Her hands moved gently along your chest, her touch light, and while your body responded instinctively, the storm in your mind raged on.

Her fingers brushed your cheek, coaxing your attention back to her. She shifted slightly, straddling your lap under the covers, her movements fluid and unhurried. The golden light of the bedside lamp cast shadows along her face, highlighting the tenderness in her gaze. She kissed you again, her lips deliberate, her touch grounding.

“Sooyoung…” you murmured against her mouth, your voice faltering as the lump in your throat made it hard to speak.

She pressed her forehead to yours, her arms wrapping around your shoulders. “I love you,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin. “Just be here with me, okay?”

Her words lingered in the quiet, their sincerity like a lifeline. She stayed close, her presence unwavering, her body flush against yours. Her warmth, her scent, the steady rhythm of her breathing—it should have been enough to pull you back.

“I needed this,” she murmured, her voice thick with affection. Her lips ghosted over your neck, her breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ve missed this—you, us.”

You nodded, your hands sliding down to her waist, fingers tracing the familiar curves of her body under the covers. Her skin was warm, her damp hair brushing against your forehead as she leaned closer. The rhythm of her touch—the way her fingers ghosted over your shoulders and the gentle roll of her hips—should have grounded you. It should have been enough.

But the dense fog of doubt lingered, clouding your thoughts even as she moved against you.

When she lowered herself onto you, her body trembled with a soft gasp, the sound sending a ripple of heat through you. Her back arched beautifully, her hands bracing against your chest as she adjusted to your shape. The intimate press of her body against yours was breathtaking, a perfect fit that always felt like home. Her hips began to move in a deliberate rhythm, slow and sensual, each roll igniting a spark of pleasure that spread through you both.

A soft moan escaped her lips, growing louder with each movement. The sound was raw and unrestrained, filling the quiet room with a symphony of her pleasure. Her head tilted back, her damp hair cascading down her shoulders as her body moved with an effortless grace, her chest rising and falling with every deliberate motion.

“You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her hands slid into your hair, her fingers curling around the strands. Her lips brushed against your ear, her breath warm and uneven, sending a shiver down your spine. “You always do.”

Her words, thick with sincerity and affection, should have soothed the ache in your chest. But instead, they hung in the air, unable to pierce the storm swirling in your mind. Even as her body moved in sync with yours, even as her warmth surrounded you, the cruel questions persisted. Did she say this to him? Did he make her feel this way without even trying?

Your hands moved instinctively, finding her hips and guiding her rhythm, but every action felt detached, mechanical. Her soft cries of pleasure grew, her hands pressing into your chest as her pace quickened, chasing a climax that felt just out of reach. Her body clenched around you, her movements becoming more urgent as she lost herself in the moment.

The sight of her—her flushed skin, the way her lips parted as she gasped your name—should have pulled you deeper into the connection. But instead, you felt like an observer, watching from the outside as the weight of your insecurities rooted itself deeper in your chest.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice breaking with need as her hands slid back up to your shoulders. Her nails grazed your skin lightly, and her eyes met yours, shining with an unspoken trust that made your chest ache. “Right there… oh, God, baby, right there.”

Her words should have been intoxicating, the way her body moved against yours captivating. But even as her pleasure built, even as her cries filled the room, you couldn’t shake the bitterness that whispered cruel comparisons in your ear. You wondered if she looked like this with him, if he made her feel this uninhibited, this free.

When your release finally came, it surged through you like a tidal wave, intense but hollow. Your body tensed beneath hers, the pleasure wracking your frame even as guilt settled heavily in its wake. Her moans didn’t stop, her forehead pressing against yours as her breathing steadied, her soft, contented sigh brushing against your skin.

But you knew. You could feel it in the steadiness of her movements, in the subtle shift of her breathing compared to your own ragged gasps—she hadn’t reached her climax. She was still moving with slow, deliberate care, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as though she wanted to hold onto the intimacy a little longer.

“Baby,” she murmured, her voice soft and affectionate as she leaned forward to kiss your cheek. Her lips lingered there, warm and sweet, as if to reassure you without words. “That was amazing. You always make me feel so loved.”

Her words, though gentle and full of sincerity, twisted painfully under the weight of your doubts. She curled into your side, her bare leg draping over yours, the scent of her freshly washed skin mingling with the faint musk of your lovemaking. Her arm wrapped around your chest, her fingers tracing light, aimless patterns on your skin.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she nuzzled against your neck, her breath warm and steady. Her body relaxed completely against yours, her contentment evident in the way she held you. For Sooyoung, this moment wasn’t about reaching a peak. It was about being close to you, about the intimacy you shared. To her, that was enough.

But the storm in your mind refused to relent. Instead of feeling closer, you felt further away, the hollow ache in your chest deepening as you stared at the ceiling. Her satisfaction, her affection, should have been enough to ease your insecurities. But they weren’t. Instead, they served as a reminder of how far you felt from the love she so freely gave.

You tightened your arm around her instinctively, holding her close even as your thoughts spiraled further. The soft rise and fall of her chest against yours, the warmth of her body curled into your side, should have been grounding. But instead, it underscored the gap between what you knew and what you felt.

Her breathing slowed, steady and even as sleep began to claim her. But you stayed awake, trapped in the endless loop of your thoughts, the same cruel questions circling endlessly in your mind.

-----

A couple of days after what you jokingly referred to as “failed love-making,” you lounged on the couch, legs stretched out, scrolling absently through your phone. The faint glow of the screen illuminated your face, contrasting with the soft, flickering light of the lavender-scented candle on the coffee table. The quiet murmur of the TV filled the room, casting muted colors across the walls. The scent of dinner lingered in the air—a gentle reminder of the shared meal that had made the evening feel warm and easy.

From the kitchen, you heard the faint clink of mugs against the countertop and the low hum of the electric kettle finishing its job. A moment later, Sooyoung appeared in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the kitchen’s warm light. She carried two steaming mugs of tea, their rich herbal aroma cutting through the lavender haze.

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she stepped into the living room, her presence immediately grounding you in the moment. “One chamomile honey tea, just for you,” she teased, setting a mug on the coffee table in front of you. The ceramic clicked softly against the wood before she sank into the cushions beside you, curling up at your side. The familiar scent of her vanilla body lotion drifted around you as she leaned into your shoulder.

You set your phone aside, smiling faintly. “Thanks, babe.” You picked up the mug, letting its warmth seep into your hands before taking a sip. The tea’s heat spread through your chest, the sweetness of honey lingering on your tongue.

Sooyoung rested her head on your shoulder, her hair tickling your neck as she shifted closer. “You smell nice,” she mumbled, her voice slightly muffled against you, her arm draping lazily across your chest. Her fingers toyed with the fabric of your shirt, tracing slow, absent patterns.

You chuckled lightly, tilting your head to brush your cheek against hers. “Do I?”

“Mmhmm.” She kissed your shoulder, the touch light and affectionate. “You always do.”

The room settled into an easy rhythm, the kind of silence that felt full rather than empty. The hum of the television mingled with the occasional creak of the house as the wind brushed against the windows. You loved these moments with Sooyoung—the way her presence could make everything else feel distant, the way she made you feel seen even when neither of you spoke.

Her fingers began tracing more deliberate patterns along your arm, sending a small shiver through you. “Guess what day it is?” she asked suddenly, her tone playful. Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she turned her face up to meet yours.

You chuckled. “Your favorite day of the week?” you guessed, already sensing where this was headed.

“Exactly,” she replied, her voice teasing as she reached up to guide your face toward hers. Her touch was familiar, but there was a quiet insistence to it that made your heart flutter. Without waiting for an answer, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. Her fingers threaded through your hair, her body pressing closer to yours as she tilted her head to deepen the connection.

For a moment, the kiss felt like the only thing tethering you to the present. The way her lips moved against yours, warm and inviting, made the world fade away. You responded instinctively, your hands finding her waist and pulling her closer. Her body was warm against yours, her familiar scent wrapping around you like a comfort you couldn’t quite grasp.

But just as the kiss grew more heated, something inside you faltered. You pulled back slightly, breaking the connection. Your hands slipped from her waist as you leaned away, leaving a sudden, noticeable gap between you.

Sooyoung blinked, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly, her hand lingering on your chest as if to steady you. Her eyes searched yours, gentle but concerned.

You offered a small, sheepish smile, but it felt hollow even as you forced it onto your face. “Nothing,” you muttered, turning slightly to grab your phone again. “I’m just… tired, I guess.”

Her frown deepened. “Tired?” she repeated, her voice laced with quiet disbelief. “We’ve been relaxing all evening.”

You shrugged, the motion feeling stiff even to you. “Yeah, I don’t know. Just not really in a… mood,” you said, fumbling for the right words to put a wall between you without outright lying.

She studied you for a moment, her gaze steady but soft. “You sure?” she asked again, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm in a small attempt to reconnect. Her voice held no judgment, just a quiet patience that made your stomach tighten.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing another weak smile. “It’s nothing, really.”

Sooyoung didn’t push further, though the worry in her eyes lingered as she leaned back slightly, giving you some space. She picked up her own mug, staring into it for a moment as though searching for the right thing to say. The warmth that had filled the room earlier seemed to shift, replaced by an almost tangible weight of unspoken tension.

The TV hummed faintly in the background, its muted sound blending with the occasional creak of the couch as you both shifted uncomfortably. Sooyoung glanced at you again, her fingers gripping her mug just a little tighter. “You’ve been different lately,” she said quietly, her tone gentle but direct. “I just… I want to help, if something’s going on.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with an earnest love that made your chest ache. But you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, couldn’t let her in past the wall you had built in your mind. Instead, you nodded faintly, murmuring, “I know,” even as your thoughts churned endlessly beneath the surface.

Sooyoung sighed softly, her hand resting on your arm. “I’m here, you know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”

The tea on the coffee table sat untouched, its steam long gone, forgotten as the once warm, comforting atmosphere shifted into something heavier. Sooyoung sat beside you, her posture relaxed but her eyes betraying the quiet concern she couldn’t quite hide. Her fingers traced absent patterns along the rim of her mug, the motion steady, as though distracting herself from the tension she couldn’t name.

You shifted slightly, leaning into her shoulder. For a brief moment, she stiffened, caught off guard, but then relaxed into the gesture. Her head tilted to rest against yours, her damp hair brushing against your cheek. The floral scent of her shampoo—sweet and familiar—enveloped you, a reminder of her love. It should have been comforting, but tonight, it only amplified the ache in your chest.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she said softly, her voice steady but quiet, like she was trying not to startle you. “I’m here. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

Your chest tightened. Her words struck deep, stirring something fragile inside you, but they also weighed heavily. You pressed a kiss to the top of her head, your lips brushing over her silky hair. You wanted to say it—to let the words pour out, to show her the toxic mess that had been swirling in your head ever since you’d seen that damn photo. But the thought of admitting it felt unbearable. How could you let her see this side of you? The smallness, the insecurity?

“I know,” you murmured, but the words sounded hollow, even to you. You tightened your hold on her, your arms wrapping around her like a shield against the storm in your mind. But no matter how close you held her, the distance between you remained—silent, unyielding.

Sooyoung nestled closer, her body warm and soft against yours. Her hand came to rest lightly on your chest, her fingers twitching ever so slightly, as if seeking reassurance. Though her gaze stayed fixed on the TV, you knew her mind was elsewhere. She didn’t understand why you were retreating, but her quiet determination was clear: she wasn’t going to give up. Not on you. Not on this.

After a long silence, she spoke again, her voice cutting through the heaviness like a lifeline. “I love it when we’re close like this,” she said, her tone soft but purposeful. Her fingers began tracing deliberate circles over your chest, the rhythm gentle and soothing. “It’s my favorite thing in the world. But it feels like you’re pulling away from me… and I don’t know why.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. Guilt twisted in your stomach, a knot tightening with every second. You wanted to tell her the truth, to let her in, but the words stayed trapped. How could you explain something that felt so irrational? A picture from her past had no power—no right—to pull you apart like this. Yet it had. It made you feel small, inadequate, like you could never measure up.

“I’m not pulling away,” you said quietly, the lie brittle and fragile. It cracked as soon as you spoke it, shattering under the weight of your doubt. Turning slightly, you forced a smile, weak and transparent. “I promise.”

Sooyoung’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing as they searched yours. She wasn’t fooled. Her lip quirked down in a faint frown as she shifted back, just enough to face you fully. “Babe…” she started, her voice dropping to a whisper, tentative and vulnerable. “I can tell when something’s wrong. Did I do something? Say something?”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, the sharpness of your tone surprising even yourself. You sat up straighter, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “No, it’s not you. It’s not anything like that.” You tried to sound firm, but the words wavered, betraying your panic. The last thing you wanted was for her to think this was her fault.

“Then what is it?” she pressed, her voice soft but steady. She reached for your hand, her fingers slipping between yours with deliberate care. Her touch was grounding, her grip steady but gentle. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever it is, I want to help. Please… just talk to me.”

Her words settled between you, warm and patient, her eyes locked on yours with a quiet intensity. Your throat tightened as the weight of what you hadn’t said pressed down on you, harder than ever. You glanced down at her hand, her fingers intertwined with yours, their warmth stark against the cold pit of doubt that churned in your stomach. You felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering between burying the truth deeper and finally letting it out.

Sooyoung’s thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, her touch insistent yet gentle. She wasn’t demanding; she was waiting—waiting for you to trust her with the parts of yourself you were so desperate to hide.

You swallowed hard, then abruptly pulled your hand away, standing up too quickly. “Can you drop it? I’m gonna make dinner,” you said hastily, the words spilling out like a defense mechanism. Without waiting for her response, you walked toward the kitchen, leaving her sitting on the couch in stunned silence.

The soft creak of the cushions and the faint rustle of her clothes as she shifted told you she hadn’t moved. You didn’t need to look back to feel the worry radiating from her. The quiet that followed wasn’t peace—it was thick, heavy, and suffocating.

In the kitchen, the sharp rhythm of your knife hitting the cutting board filled the silence, the vegetables beneath your hands blurring into indistinct shapes as you chopped. Your movements were harsher than necessary, the tension in your chest pressing harder with every slice. The air around you felt stifling, amplifying every sound—the muted clink of utensils, the scrape of the knife on wood, and the occasional creak of the floor as you shifted your weight.

Your phone buzzed against the counter, the vibration rattling like an alarm. You didn’t even glance at it. “Hey,” you called out, louder than you intended. “Can you check my phone? I think I got a message.”

From the living room, Sooyoung stirred, the sound of her soft footsteps growing louder as she approached. “Sure,” she said, her voice careful but curious.

When she picked up your phone, its screen lit up, illuminating the recent searches you hadn’t closed. Her breath caught, her fingers freezing mid-swipe. The words stared back at her, stark and unrelenting: “Red Velvet’s Sooyoung’s ex-boyfriend leak,” “size comparison,” “how to get over feeling inadequate.”

Her chest tightened as the realization settled over her. This was it. This was why you had been distant. Why your warmth had felt muted and your touches hesitant. She felt the weight of it like a lead blanket pressing down on her chest.

“Hey…” she said softly, her voice trembling as she set the phone back on the counter.

At the counter, your chopping faltered, the steady rhythm halting mid-slice. You didn’t turn around, your back stiff and unmoving. "Yeah?" you said, trying to sound casual, but the tightness in your voice betrayed you. The knife hovered in your hand, your grip tightening as if bracing for what was coming.

Behind you, Sooyoung placed the phone carefully on the counter, as though handling something fragile. She took a slow, deliberate breath before stepping closer. "Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked quietly, her voice clear but filled with a mix of hurt and gentle understanding.

The words hit you like a gut punch. Your shoulders tensed, and you turned slowly, your puzzled expression crumbling as your eyes darted to the phone. The realization hit you like a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs. Shame crashed over you, heavy and suffocating, as you stared at her. Your lips parted, but no words came out.

"I… I didn’t want you to see that," you muttered finally, your voice brittle, barely above a whisper. Vulnerability clung to your tone, foreign and uncomfortable, as if laying this part of yourself bare was an admission of weakness.

Sooyoung’s expression softened instantly. Her loving eyes brimmed with compassion as she closed the gap between you. "Why not?" she asked gently, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been feeling this way?"

You let out a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair as you looked away, your gaze dropping to the counter. "Because it’s stupid," you muttered, frustration thick in your voice. "I saw those pictures of your ex… and I couldn’t stop comparing myself to him. To that."

Her brows knitted together in confusion and sadness. "The leaked photos?" she asked, her tone soft but tinged with disbelief.

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely audible. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter, the tension in your knuckles matching the turmoil inside you. "I know it’s dumb. I know it doesn’t matter, but I can’t stop thinking about how he looked—how he fits this perfect image. And me? I don’t feel like I measure up. I’ve been feeling like I’m… not enough for you. Like maybe you’re just being nice, and compared to him…" Your voice cracked, and you exhaled deeply, the confession draining the last of your resolve. "I’m lacking."

Sooyoung’s face crumpled at your words, the weight of your insecurity hitting her squarely. She stepped even closer, her hand reaching out to rest gently on your arm. Her touch was warm and grounding, her eyes swimming with love and concern. "Why would you ever think that?" she whispered, her voice trembling but steady.

You let out a bitter chuckle, shaking your head as you avoided her gaze. "Because it’s obvious," you said, the words sharp and cutting, more directed at yourself than her. "I’ve seen the pictures, Sooyoung. I can see the difference between me and him. I’m nowhere close—"

"Stop," she interrupted, her voice firm yet calm. Her fingers tightened slightly on your arm, anchoring you in the moment. "That doesn’t matter. None of that matters."

Her words caught you off guard, and your gaze lifted to meet hers. What you saw in her eyes made your breath catch. There was no judgment, no pity—only love. Pure, unwavering, and steadfast.

"It’s hard not to compare," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "Especially when I feel like I’ll never measure up to… that."

Sooyoung stepped closer, her other hand rising to gently cup your cheek. Her thumb brushed softly against your skin, the gesture tender and deliberate. "Listen to me," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "You are enough for me. More than enough. I don’t care about some stupid photo or what anyone else looks like. What we have—what you give me—is everything I could ever want. You make me feel loved, cherished, and wanted in ways no one else ever could. Only you."

Her words hit like a wave, washing over the raw edges of your insecurity. The sincerity in her tone, the quiet strength in her gaze—it was impossible to deny. Slowly, the knot in your chest began to loosen, the weight of your self-doubt easing under the warmth of her love.

She leaned in, pressing her forehead gently against yours. Her presence, her touch, her words—it all grounded you in what was real. "I love you," she whispered, her breath warm against your lips. "All of you. Just as you are."

Your chest tightened, her words settling deep into your heart. The warmth in her tone was undeniable, yet the insecurities clinging to you still lingered, like shadows at the edges of your mind.

Sooyoung noticed the flicker of doubt in your eyes and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her lips lingered there, warm and comforting. "I mean it," she whispered, her voice gentle but steady. "It’s not about size or comparing yourself to anyone else. When I’m with you, everything feels right because I love you. All of you."

You closed your eyes, letting her words wash over you like a calm tide. For a fleeting moment, the tension in your chest eased, though the grip of doubt still tugged faintly at the edges. "It’s hard to let go of these thoughts," you admitted softly, your voice almost a whisper.

"I know," she replied, her tone filled with quiet understanding. She slid her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with a deliberate tenderness. "Everyone has insecurities. But as your girlfriend, it’s my job to show you how much you mean to me. How much I want you, just the way you are."

You opened your eyes, meeting hers. Her gaze was steady, brimming with patience and love, leaving no room for judgment or doubt. There was something in the way she looked at you—an unshakable belief in who you were. For the first time in days, a flicker of hope sparked within you, cutting through the storm clouds.

Sooyoung smiled softly, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, her lips moved slower, deeper, as if pouring every shared memory, every ounce of affection, into the moment. The warmth of her touch pulled you from the depths of your insecurities, anchoring you in the present.

As the kiss deepened, you felt yourself melting into her, the weight of her love wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. The doubts still lingered in the background, but their grip began to loosen, her touch drawing you closer to the present. Sooyoung broke the kiss softly, her breath warm against your lips as she whispered, “Lie down with me.”

Her hand in yours was gentle yet insistent as she led you to the bed. You settled onto the soft mattress, the weight of your body sinking into the familiar comfort. She climbed in beside you, her eyes steady as they searched yours. The insecurities began creeping back in, but her presence—steady and warm—provided a tether you desperately needed.

Sooyoung sat beside you, her fingers moving to the buttons of your shirt. She began unbuttoning it slowly, her touch deliberate and filled with tenderness. Her gaze remained fixed on yours, silently reassuring you that this was about love, not expectation. But your hands instinctively rose to stop her, trembling slightly as they met hers.

"I… I don’t know if—" you started, your voice barely audible, thick with hesitation. Your throat felt tight, every doubt screaming louder with each undone button. "Baby, maybe we shouldn’t—"

She froze, her fingers stilling mid-motion. Her eyes softened, filled with understanding rather than frustration. “Hey,” she said gently, her voice low and soothing. She rested her fingers lightly on yours, her touch calm but grounding. “It’s just me. It’s us. We’ve done this before.”

Your gaze darted away, your chest rising and falling unevenly. "I know," you murmured, your voice raw, "but it feels different this time." The words hung between you, unspoken fears filling the silence.

Sooyoung’s heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She leaned closer, her palm slipping under your chin to gently lift your gaze back to hers. “I know it’s hard,” she said softly, her tone steady and full of love. “But you don’t have to compare yourself to anyone. Especially not to that cheating scum. I love you. You are enough, babe. You’ve always been enough for me.”

Her words struck something deep within you, and for a moment, you simply stared at her, caught between belief and doubt. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly. “Let me,” she whispered, her voice tender yet resolute. "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Hesitation flickered in your mind, but you nodded, exhaling shakily as she slipped the shirt from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The cool air brushed against your skin, but her warmth surrounded you, steady and unyielding.

Sooyoung leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone and chest, her lips lingering on each spot as though pouring love into you with every touch. “Every part of you… it’s perfect,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. “You’re more than enough for me, baby. I love you so much, just the way you are.”

Her words sent a flicker of warmth through you, momentarily quieting the storm in your mind. Her touch was soft but grounding, the press of her lips against your skin both reassuring and intimate. But when her hands moved to your belt, you instinctively stopped her, your hand wrapping around hers.

"Wait," you muttered, your voice trembling. "Are you sure about this?" The question carried more weight than it should have, heavy with fear and doubt.

Sooyoung stilled, sitting back slightly to meet your gaze fully. Her hands cupped your face gently, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks with tender precision. “Babe, look at me,” she said softly, her voice unwavering. Her eyes locked with yours, filled with a love that was steady and unshakable. "You are everything to me. Not just enough—everything. Do you understand that?"

You swallowed hard, her words settling into the quiet corners of your heart. The sincerity in her voice, the conviction in her gaze—it was impossible to ignore. Still, the doubts lingered faintly, shadows refusing to fully disappear.

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering for a moment before pulling back to meet your eyes again. “I love you,” she said firmly, her tone low and soothing. "I love all of you. Your heart, your mind, your body—every part of you is enough for me. Nothing else matters. Do you hear me?"

Her words were a lifeline, cutting through the fog of your thoughts. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, and you nodded, her love chipping away at the walls you had built. Sooyoung’s hands moved lower again, unbuckling your belt and sliding it off with care. Her movements were deliberate, her touch imbued with patience and love.

As she settled on the bed beside you, Sooyoung’s warmth pressed against your side. The soft rustle of the covers surrounded you both, her bare leg brushing against yours. Her presence was steady and grounding, a quiet reassurance as she nestled closer. Her hands found your thighs, resting there lightly as her gaze met yours, filled with love and intention.

She broke the silence first, her voice soft but resolute. “I love you,” she said, her words wrapping around you like a promise. “You don’t ever have to hide from me.” Her fingers trailed along your skin, her touch both tender and deliberate. In that moment, her love felt like the only thing anchoring you to the present, quieting the whispers of insecurity.

She leaned over you, her eyes searching yours. “Don’t,” she murmured, her voice gentle but firm. “Don’t hide from me. I want all of you. I love all of you.”

Her words sent a wave of emotion through you, tightening your throat as you swallowed hard. Nodding, you fought to push the lingering doubts aside, though your chest still felt heavy with the weight of insecurity. “I’m sorry for feeling like this,” you murmured, the words barely audible, more for yourself than for her.

Sooyoung cupped your face with both hands, her thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. Her gaze never wavered. “Don’t apologize,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I love you. Let me show you.”

She shifted lower on the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, and urged you to relax. Her hands moved to the waistband of your boxers, her fingers light but confident. When she began to guide them down, you hesitated, but the warmth in her touch and the reassurance in her eyes quieted the protest forming on your lips. You let her, exhaling slowly as the vulnerability of the moment settled over you.

Sooyoung’s gaze remained steady as she leaned down, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin at your base. She kissed you softly, reverently, her touch full of care. Each kiss was deliberate, her lips warm and tender as they trailed along your length. “You’re perfect to me,” she whispered, her voice low and affectionate, her words wrapping around you like a shield against your doubts.

Her lips pressed to the underside of your length, trailing slowly upward before settling at the tip. She kissed it gently, her breath warm against your skin as she lingered there. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the love in her gaze made your chest tighten. “I don’t need anything else, baby,” she murmured between kisses. “You, just like this, are everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Her words weren’t just comforting; they carried a conviction that chipped away at the insecurities buried deep in your heart. Her hands caressed your thighs, steadying you as her kisses grew more purposeful. She alternated between slow, lingering movements and light, teasing flicks of her tongue, her care evident in every touch. She paused only to meet your gaze again, her lips curving into a soft smile. “You’re mine,” she said simply, her voice a quiet anchor in the storm of your thoughts.

Her kisses grew bolder, her tongue tracing gentle patterns along your length. Each motion was deliberate, her touch imbued with affection. She would press a kiss at the base, then trail upward slowly, her breath ghosting over you before she took you in again. Her rhythm was unhurried, savoring every moment as though she wanted to commit every inch of you to memory.

Her hands found their way to your hips, holding you gently but firmly as her lips worked in perfect harmony with her tongue. She alternated between soft, teasing motions and deeper, more purposeful movements, her love for you evident in the care she put into every second. She paused briefly, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before returning to you, her lips brushing tenderly against your sensitive skin.

���You feel so good,” she murmured, her breath warm as she glanced up at you. Her eyes were soft, filled with a love that made your chest ache in the best way. “Every single part of you feels amazing to me.”

Her pace quickened slightly, her enthusiasm blending with her tenderness as she coaxed pleasure from you. The warmth of her mouth, the deliberate pressure of her lips, and the way her hands anchored you to the bed all worked in perfect harmony. She wasn’t just focused on giving you pleasure—she was showing you, through every touch and motion, how much you meant to her.

The tension in your chest began to ease, her devotion replacing the doubts that had weighed you down for days. Her actions weren’t just about intimacy; they were a testament to her love, her desire to remind you of your worth. Slowly, you began to relax under her touch, letting yourself feel the truth in her actions.

When she looked up at you again, her gaze locked with yours, and you saw nothing but love and pride in her eyes. “Let me take care of you,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your skin before she continued. Her hands slid up to cradle your thighs, grounding you as she poured every ounce of her affection into her touch.

With a final kiss to your tip, Sooyoung sealed all the words that had been spoken, her affection tangible in every lingering touch. She pulled back slowly, her movements unhurried, and began to undress herself. The glow of the bedside lamp bathed her skin in a soft, golden light, accentuating every curve and detail of her body. Her beauty was undeniable, but it wasn’t just the physical sight of her—it was the love in her gaze, the tenderness in her actions, that left you breathless.

Her eyes remained locked on yours as she revealed herself, her confidence tempered with vulnerability, as if she were offering all of herself to you. “You don’t have to worry anymore, baby,” she whispered, her voice low and soothing. Her lips found your neck, pressing soft kisses along the sensitive skin there, each one leaving behind a trail of warmth. “I love you just the way you are. You make me feel alive, cherished… no one else could ever do that for me the way you do.”

Her words were like a balm, easing the tightness in your chest as her hands slid over your shoulders and down your chest, grounding you in her touch. The lingering insecurities that had plagued you began to melt away, their sharp edges softened by the undeniable truth in her gaze. She didn’t just see you—she saw all of you, the parts you tried to hide, the parts you feared were unworthy, and she loved them unconditionally.

She gently guided you onto the bed, her bare skin pressing warmly against yours. The intimacy of her closeness filled the room, the heat between you building with every whispered reassurance and every deliberate movement. Slowly, deliberately, she straddled you, her body fitting against yours like a missing piece. She guided you to her entrance, her breath hitching as she sank down onto you, her body enveloping you fully. Her loud, impassioned moan filled the room, sending a shiver of electricity through you as you gasped at the overwhelming sensation.

Sooyoung’s hips began to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion uniting you more completely. The way she moved against you was mesmerizing—graceful and instinctive, as though your bodies had been made for each other. Her hands rested on your chest for balance, her fingers splaying wide as her breath quickened, her soft moans filling the space between you.

“You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice trembling with sincerity as she leaned down, her damp hair brushing against your skin. Her lips sought yours in a kiss that was deep and full of emotion, her love pouring into every movement. “You’re everything to me, baby. Everything.”

Her words were an anchor, steadying you as her love reached places no one else ever could. Each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through both of you, but it wasn’t just the physical sensation—it was the emotional connection, the unspoken bond that made every moment between you feel transcendent. Every sigh, every shiver, every roll of her hips was a declaration of love, weaving the two of you closer together.

As the intensity grew, her words began to cut through your lingering insecurities. “I’m so close,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Baby, you’re going to make me cum—please, don’t stop.”

The sincerity in her tone and the raw desire in her eyes filled you with a newfound confidence. She wasn’t holding back, and you could feel how deeply she meant every word. Your hands instinctively moved to her hips, steadying her movements as she rode you with increasing fervor. Her body moved like it was made for yours, her rhythm deliberate and unrestrained. You began meeting her movements with your own, thrusting upward to match the rhythm she set.

Her moans grew louder, her head tilting back as her body arched above you, her hands bracing against your chest for support. The sight of her—so vulnerable, so open—sent a surge of heat through you. You tightened your grip on her hips, your thumbs brushing against the soft curves of her waist as you pushed deeper into her, each upward thrust eliciting another shuddering gasp.

“Yes,” she cried, her nails grazing your chest as her rhythm quickened. “Just like that—baby, just like that.”

Her encouragement was electric, spurring you on as you focused entirely on her—her movements, her sounds, the way her body trembled with every thrust. The insecurities that had clung to you earlier began to crumble under the weight of her love, replaced by an overwhelming need to give her everything you had.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and filled with conviction. The words came naturally now, unburdened by hesitation. Her eyes snapped down to meet yours, her gaze softening even as her body moved with raw intensity.

“I love you too,” she gasped, her voice breaking as her climax built. “You’re perfect—you’re everything.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, breaking through the last remnants of doubt. You met her movements with more purpose, your hips thrusting upward in perfect sync with hers. Every shared movement, every brush of her hands against your skin, every moan and sigh felt like a crescendo building toward something beyond either of you.

Her cries grew urgent, her body tightening as she tipped closer to the edge. “Oh my God, baby, I’m gonna—” Her words dissolved into a sharp cry as her climax overtook her, her body shuddering violently around you. She clung to you, her hands gripping your shoulders as her head tipped back, her moans filling the room in waves of ecstasy.

The sensation of her pulsing around you, the sheer intensity of her release, sent you spiraling after her. With a final, powerful thrust, your own climax hit, a blinding wave of pleasure that seemed to consume you entirely. Stars danced behind your closed eyes, the high of your release magnified by the connection between you. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, almost transcendent, as if the love you shared heightened every sensation to an unimaginable degree.

You groaned deeply, your hands gripping her hips tightly as you held her against you, your bodies locked together in the aftershocks of your shared release. Sooyoung collapsed forward, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as her forehead rested gently against yours, her breaths warm and uneven.

For several moments, the room was silent except for the sound of your mingled breathing. Her body was warm and soft against yours, her skin glistening in the dim light of the room. You ran your hands slowly along her sides, grounding yourself in the reality of her love, the tangible proof that you were enough for her.

Sooyoung tilted her head up, her eyes soft and bright as they searched yours. A gentle smile curved her lips, and she reached up to brush a strand of hair from your forehead, the touch light but deliberate. “That…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I know you felt that. It was different than before—way better, right? It’s because we love each other so much.”

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning, as she leaned in closer. Her lips pressed delicate kisses along your face, each touch deliberate and tender, scattering warmth across your skin. The kisses weren’t rushed; they were unhurried, like a ritual of devotion. Her lips found your temple first, then the corner of your jaw, the softness of each kiss leaving a trail of emotion in its wake.

“Please remember,” she murmured between kisses, her voice trembling with raw emotion, “no matter who I was with, no matter his size…” Her lips brushed against your forehead, her breath warm and steady as she paused there for a moment. She moved to your cheek next, her kiss lingering as if to reassure you of her every word. “I… have… never…” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as her lips found yours in a deep, loving kiss. “Had a… orgasm… so… hard… in… my… life.”

Each word came with a kiss, sealing her declaration with her affection. Her voice carried unwavering sincerity, her eyes brimming with honesty when she pulled back to meet your gaze. The depth of her love was palpable, wrapping around you like a cocoon of safety and affirmation.

A soft laugh escaped you, unsteady but full of relief, as her words took root in your heart. The insecurities that had haunted you began to dissolve, their weight lifting and replaced by the undeniable warmth of her truth. Unable to hold back, you pulled her closer, your arms wrapping securely around her. Her body molded to yours, soft and warm, and the way she melted into your embrace sent a wave of peace rippling through you.

The sound of her steady breathing became your anchor. Sooyoung lay curled against you, her head resting on your chest, her fingers tracing absent patterns on your skin. The warmth of her body was grounding, her presence filling the gaps where doubt once lived.

Her voice broke the silence, soft but certain. “You don’t have to hide from me. I love you—all of you. Just the way you are.”

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. You tightened your arm around her, pulling her closer, but still, the weight of your insecurities tugged at the edges of your thoughts.

She shifted, pressing her forehead to yours, her damp hair brushing your skin. Her breath was warm, steady. “I’ve never felt this way with anyone,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “No one makes me feel loved like you do. You are my everything.”

Her words were a lifeline, pulling you out of the storm that had raged in your mind. You cupped her face, brushing a thumb over her cheek, and saw it clearly—the love, the truth, the unshakable certainty in her eyes.

“I love you,” you said, the words finally free of hesitation. “I don’t know why you chose me, but… I’m so glad you did.”

Her lips curved into a tender smile, her eyes shining. “Because you’re the one who makes me feel like this. You’re the one I want—forever.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. It wasn’t rushed; it wasn’t about anything but love—pure, unfiltered, and real. The doubts that had haunted you began to fade, replaced by the steady warmth of her love.

As she nestled against your chest, her arms wrapping tightly around you, you realized something profound. This wasn’t about perfection or comparison. It wasn’t about the shadows of a past you couldn’t change. It was about her—the way she saw you, the way she loved you.

And for the first time, you felt it fully. It was enough. She was enough. You were enough.

The room grew quiet again, your bodies entwined, the world outside distant and unimportant. Her breathing steadied, her warmth a cocoon around you, and as you pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, peace finally settled over you.

In her arms, the storm quieted. The insecurities that had loomed so large felt smaller now, dissolving in the light of her love. And as her fingers traced one last, languid pattern on your chest, you closed your eyes, letting yourself believe—truly believe—that you were exactly where you belonged.

[carbonfiction]

Irrevocably mine

Worst!Wolverine x reader

summary: Sometimes you get to be too much for Logan; not emotionally, god no. Never like that.. Just the mere presence of you stirs something within him. somedays, it just gets too much, that visceral need to be enveloped by you. it makes him nothing short of desperate, worn eyes begging and pleading, unsatisfied and unhappy until he has you closer than close.

warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI- Needy worst!Logan, f! Receiving oral, oral on couch?fingering, mentions of bodily fluids (cum and spit) cum eating?(Technically?? S' just suckin on fingers), not sure if this classes as free use?? teeny tiny bit of face slapping, swearing.. he's a little pussy drunk here i cant lie.. But uhh think thats it??

Masterlist words: little over 1.8k

Sometimes you get to be too much for Logan; not emotionally, god no. Never like that.. Just the mere presence of you stirs something within him. The mingled scent of your perfume and shampoo on the bedsheets, on his clothing, a sweet fragrance that seems to follow him around the house even in your absence.

Somedays he can quell the feelings down in his gut until its nothing more than a dull ache, like a muscle overstrained. other times it'll grow, festering in his bloodstream until his body thrums with need.

And Somedays.. Well. Somedays get too much, that visceral need to be enveloped by you. It boils over until he's nothing but desperate, worn eyes begging and pleading as he follows you around, unsatisfied and unhappy until he's inside you- has you closer than close.

Today had been one of those boiling over days. He'd felt it stir from the moment he'd awoken with you snuggled into him, head pushed so far into the crook of his neck it was a wonder you could breathe as you planted gentle kisses across his skin.

Logan pushed the feeling down as you showered together, trying his best to ignore your soapy nakedness and wandering hands, a casual intimacy, as you gently washed him and his hair the same way he always did for you.

He continued his restraint as he'd spent the majority of his day with Wade and his incessant jabbering mouth. But Logan could still feel the ache inside grow, his clothes sitting uncomfortable on his skin, even with half a mind on helping his begrudged friend "fix up a shelf"

*in other words, it was one of Wade's horrible excuse to get logan in his house holding power tools. Making lewd; only-things-wade-would-come-up-with level comments until logan would threaten to shove his claws so far down Wade's throat that he'd be classified as a kebab*

But what really pushed Logan over the edge was when he'd gotten home to the sight of you laid out on the couch reading a book while only wearing one of his flannel shirts with some panties. A usual outfit for you around the house really, but it never stopped driving him wild. The way the of the fabric framed your skin in the soft setting sunlight stirred away at him until his clothes really became uncomfortably constricting.

He needed you, needed to be beside you, above and below you. To finally let your scent consume him whole. He wanted to beg, to plead for you to use him for your pleasure. It was like witchcraft the way you rendered him so pent up by merely existing in his life, like an angel of pure sin had fallen from the sky right into his arms.

His steps were swift as he came to a stop in front of the sofa, jacket thrown haphazardly somewhere in the hall. Your eyes break from the book in your hands as yours meet his, your legs now the only barrier to taking a seat. Within seconds, Logans hands gently lift the soft expanses of your lower legs, a smile appearing on both your faces as he sits.

At first he makes no moves, tells you to keep reading while his hands just simply trace and massage patterns into your limbs, enjoying a comfortable silence. You don't seem to notice how his eyes roam hungry against your dressed form or the chubby bulge that sits heavy in his jeans.

His rough hands slowly walk higher until they find their way under the fabric of your- his- shirt, your thighs soft; doughy and warm in his large palms. And yet his moves don't alarm you, don't break your trance to the page your so taken by in that damn book.

He thinks you don't feel the way his broad body shifts you with him, subtly lowering himself to the carpet until he's practically between your legs. He thinks you don't see the look in his eyes, shining with hunger and need.

Truthfully you see it all, practically felt the growing heat of the fire inside him from the moment he walked in, but you know what he needs from you so you continue to read, letting him believe you don't know.

You make no move when his head dips down, scuffed cheeks moving up from your ankles as he plants gentle kisses. Your stillness burns the flames inside higher, craving acknowledgement, wanting to devour you, but he knows no matter how engrossed in something you are you'd stop him if you didn't want it to happen.

Logan takes his time until he's just above your knees, then, he shifts again, now fully kneeling on the carpet. Your legs placed over broad shoulders. his hands roaming, pushing up the fabric until it rests just above your pubic bone.

His thumb finds your clit over delicate cotton and lace, a teasing pressure that makes you suppress a shudder. Its calculated, barely there and absolutely not enough but it still manages to spark pleasure.

And pleasure given by Logan was like ecstasy.

But, to your surprise, itstays like that for a while; him doing nothing more than planting little nips and kisses to your thighs and lavishing his tongue along the steadily drenching gusset of fabric. Spit aiding the wetness until they press translucent against your slit.

There's a heat in your own gut that builds from his movements, one that has you relenting the little strength you had to ignore him. the exchange so far wordless. But the moment the book hits the couch and your fingers finally entangle in his hair, finding his signature tufts and tugging gently, things shift. The brown strands are soft between your fingers as he lets out a quiet groan, finally speaking up in an intoxicating rumble "gonna let me taste you properly princess? Please.. I need it, been waiting all day to taste you"

For a moment you consider denying him, tease him a little longer, but the embers that burn in his gaze stop you in your tracks. A softly murmured 'yeah' fills the air and as quick as it leaves your lips his own dip, finding the dampening fabric of your underwear and inhaling.

One heavy adamantium arm lies dormant over you, palm splayed on your lower stomach, doing little more than pressing down your hips whenever you even attempt to wriggle for more. The other switches between pawing against your covered tits and holding one of your hands tight.

You squirm under him, sticky and wet as you allow him to choose his pace. Letting him take what he needs so desperately from you, allowing him his time to conduct his main goal; to taste your cum soaked cunt on his tongue like a spoonful of the finest honey.

"Got the sweetest little pussy.. could die happy down here" his eyes make contact with yours as he speaks making you whine. Something in the way they darken when talking about your cunt sending a shooting jolt of pleasure through your veins.

Logan slips his hand from yours until it sits right on the side of your inner thigh. Fingers coming up the middle of the soggy material before he hooks them, pulling them aside and baring you fully unrestricted to him.

"There she is.." he mumbles, lips immediately finding your puffy clit and sucking softly. His tongue flicking against the pulsing bud and paired with the constant suction of his mouth it draws the littlest mewls from your lips; quiet gasps of obscenity.

He spits then, lust blown eyes locked to your puffy cunt, his thumb a steady pressure on your bud as he rubs the saliva in tight circles. A groan as he observes how your empty hole clenches around air, slick arousal mixed with spit drooling down to your ass. "Lookacha fuckin' drooling all over me already.. What a needy princess"

You don't get the chance to respond- to tease him for his own need- what with how his mouth latches back over your pussy. A jumble of sounds filling the room, half sloppy and wet from the way logan laps at you, the other mewls, moans and whimpers as the feeling of your orgasm builds in your gut.

"F-feels so good.... Don't stop, please don't"

If anyone knows how to eat pussy, its Logan. His ability to eat pussy- to eat your pussy- is beyond any man you'd ever been with. You suppose its all in the years, experience built in his time, but its not like you have the capacity to really ponder its origins right now; not with the gusto he's sucking and savoring you with.

"L-Lo.. Fuck- s-so close" you breathe, whiney moans bubbling from your chest as your back arches on the cushion. They grow in volume with each flick and lap of his tongue. Broad strokes to precise flits, all uniquely drawing you closer, winding up the tension higher.

But what really shatters you is Logans fingers. Long and thick, enough to offer a pleasurable stretch, as his index slips just below his working mouth- sliding inside with zero resistance. He crooks it back and forth once, twice, three times before the middle slips inside as well.

You moan louder, hips thrusting down; fucking yourself on his digits as you chase the ecstasy tingling through your fingertips. The grip on his hair tight, making logan grunt and grumble as you guide his face along your dripping pussy.

"C'mon princess. Do it, cum f'me. Need it" he murmurs and the way it wetly vibrates across your clit shatters the tension in your gut, making you cum with a broken gasp. Logans mouth and fingers never stopping their delicious rhythm until tears well in your eyes, fingers desperately tugging at his hair. Your thighs beginning to close around his ears before he pulls away, a deep satisfied grin spread across his face. His beard visibly wet, cum and spit soaked.

"Fuck lo.." you giggle breathless, tugging him up from the floor practically by his hair. "Always make me feel s'good baby" the words are breathy, pressed against his lips in a wet kiss, the taste of you on his tongue.

"I like making you feel good.. Do so well for me everytime" he smirks and you feel it pressed to your lips; a blush spreading from the combination of your taste and his praise.

You kiss him lewdly, sloppy and passionate as you carefully grab his hand from your pussy and tug it up, large fingers still slick and coated in a thin creamy layer of your release. You pull back then, with a soft sinful giggle, making full eye contact with him as you open your mouth, placing those fingers on your tongue, lips closing around them like they would his cock.

The sight makes logan groan, his eyes darkened so much they are almost black. His chubbed cock leaking desperately in his now far to tight jeans. You smile, His free hand lifting to tap roughly on your cheek as they hollow around the digits teasingly. "My pretty girl and her flithy mouth.. Think we should get you something else to suck on hm?"

Save me needy logan.. Save me.. Writers block is easing up a lil so i figured I'd write something I'd enjoy as a reader?? Lemme know whatcha think! <333

[aelfgiure]

From the moment I was coherent, I knew my family was different. Off, somehow, not normal. It was something in the way my parents looked at me when they thought I was distracted, the way they treated me like I didn't belong. Like I was an inconvenience.

My brother and sisters? So, so spoiled. Between mom's modeling and dad's business stuff, there was MONEY, and my siblings had it lavished on them. Toys, designer clothes - whatever they wanted. They were hugged, cosseted, taken on trips, given actual attention! They had a fabulous childhood.

Not like mine.

There was this undercurrent of resentment towards me that I never understood. I never had birthday parties, the folks were always "too busy", tossing some money my way so I could get a present. It never mattered what my grades were, I handed over the report cards to get signed and that was it. Unlike my siblings - they got pizza parties for not failing classes! but my damn near perfect marks were shrugged off. It was a lonely, confusing life, especially for a little kid.

My solace was in books. (Yep, I nerd.) If it was in print, I'd read it. That empty feeling inside me was soothed when I filled myself with words, stories, information, music. Yes, I taught myself how to read music, too, and how to build and play instruments. The early ones were crap, but I got better at it.

Anyways. I read everything, which led me to the 'occult/spiritual' section of the library and book stores. Right next to the fairy tales and legends, of course, so I read those too because why the heck not? It was ... it was educational. Upsetting. I wandered around the house and saw all the cold iron and silver on every window, every door. The weird herbs growing at every entrance. Keep in mind that I was TEN. Ten years old, trying to understand what was going on with my life, and suddenly figuring out that my parents were keeping something out. Of course, the next thing I did was check my clothes and, surprise surprise, everything had odd things sewn into the hems. Not only was something kept out, I was warded against being Taken.

So, I did what any angsty pre-adolescent would do, and plotted. Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was going on. For the first time in my life, being ignored worked in my favor. Using the books and stories as a guide, I bought things, ingredients and materials, and worked quietly. Waiting for the night of the full moon.

I was as thorough as only an angry child could be. Opened doors, front and back. Walked around the house widdershins, sweeping away the protective ring of salt and runes. Did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I took a bath and washed myself with a bar of Ivory soap, getting rid of even the smallest trace of binding or charm. Since I didn't trust any of my clothes, or any in the house really, it made sense for me to go naked. To be sure.

The results were impressive. Also terrifying. Two powerful, ancient beings stormed into the house and dragged my parents out of bed, starting a three-way screaming match about contracts, oaths, stuff I didn't understand.

That was when I learned why I was conceived. It hurt, honestly. Learning that I was just a bargaining chip, chattel to be bartered or sold, broke my heart. They kept me warded to avoid issues, they said. They didn't know which being had the first claim on me, and neither one wanted to give up the wealth and beauty they bought with my life.

I was ten years old, and heartbroken, and oh so angry, and I interrupted with a suggestion. The witch and the faerie exchanged a look, before turning to my parents with the same smile on both their faces, one with extra teeth and mischief.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to them. I've lived with my dads for ten years now. Not full time anymore, university is a beeyotch and I live off campus, but every break, I go home.

My family is still kinda off, and different, but my dads love me. They're proud of me, they encourage me to be awesome, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. They keep saying that they have to make up for lost time, but knowing they were trying to find me, knowing they never gave up hope - well. They wanted a child to love, and i needed parents to love me. It all worked out in the end.

Your mother sold her firstborn to a witch in exchange for beauty and your father sold his firstborn to a fairy for wealth. Today you are born.

[alchemistc]

Part One

Part Two

They make it past the second six months.

It's agonizing. It's wonderful. Tommy wants to scream.

"Why are you calling it your six month anniversary?" Hen asks, with a quirked brow, eyeing them both from across the twelve-top they'd scooped up (and modified under the careful scrutiny of the curmudgeonly bartender Joe) early.

Tommy's glad his hand is under the table. The nervous habit of running a thumb along the underside of his empty ring finger would be the kind of thing Hen notices.

"You don't just get a Mulligan on the first six."

It's been a year and a half since Tommy met Evan Buckley. Over, actually, since Evan had just gone a little insane instead of taking a step back to examine his feelings, at the start. It always makes Tommy wonder exactly how much he'd examined those first days with Eddie. He's heard the story, clips of it, bits and pieces scattered between everyone Evan knows, and he wonders if Evan will ever come to the conclusion that he'd had virtually the same reaction to Eddie, back at the beginning. It's settled, now. They are firm in their friendship, and any attraction that might be there isn't simmering under the surface waiting to blindside Tommy. But he wonders sometimes if Evan won't just bolt up in bed ten years from now to shake Tommy awake and tell him he'd had a crush on Eddie.

Ten years?

Christ.

If Evan ever knew how many times the future popped into his mind like a jump scare, he'd -

They're far past the deadline for annulment. At this point they're at "split the assets before you go". Can't quite talk your way out of a committed relationship six months post-marriage.

Neither one of them has brought it up, and Tommy is getting great at pretending like it's not a scythe shifting closer and closer every time the pendulum swings past him.

Evan tosses a balled up napkin at Hen and sticks out his tongue, and before she can do more than scowl there are five more people flooding through the door behind them to shout congratulations and drop into their seats to gossip.

---

Hiding it becomes a moot point. He's had it in his head this whole time that if it were to get out, it would definitely be Evan's fault.

The universe does enjoy a twist

He'd gotten a jumbled text from Evan mid-flight, and a more coherent one from Eddie when his captain asked him to turn the bird around and land, and he's a bundle of nerves as he spills through the barely open doors of the elevator and spots the rest of the 118 looking concerned off in the corner of the waiting room.

Eddie catches him first. Spots the look on his face and makes a valiant attempt to explain, to soothe his worry, but there's a nurse rounding a corner and all Tommy has gotten to this point is <Buck's being transported to Good Samaritan. He's stable but you should come.>

He's kind of an ass about it. He'll regret it later when she narrows her eyes and reminds him visiting hours have ended. He'll shoot back with the same shit he's gearing himself up for in this moment and they'll reach a detente.

"Evan Buckley. Do you have any new information?"

She eyes the flight suit he hadn't bothered to take off before booking it to his truck. Tilts her gaze behind him, to the 118, and maybe that's what does it. The idea that they're any more family than he is. "We'll inform family immediately with any updates."

Tommy can see Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, but all he's thinking about is the hundreds of moments Evan's smile has left him breathless, all the promises they'd made each other that night with the neon lights of Vegas spurring them on.

"Seeing as I'm his husband, I'd like a full update. Now."

He regrets it the moment the words are out of his mouth. Not just because he's being a complete fucking dickhead about it, either.

The pendulum gets its first taste of blood and swings away again.

---

Evan grins at him. He's bruised and bandaged and high as a kite, and he's so fucking beautiful it nearly takes Tommy out at the knees. Thankfully he's already sitting.

Perched on a chair close enough to the bed that he's annoyed an orderly, a doctor, and two nurses, hand curled over Evan's in the bed, he's just finished confessing he can't keep a secret for shit and Evan is smiling at him.

The rest of the 118 is still waiting outside. He'd let Maddie go first, so it's likely Evan already knew this tidbit, but it doesn't hurt to be honest. Or so he's learning.

"You love me," Evan sing-songs.

Tommy sucks his lips behind his teeth to hide his grin. Blows out a breath. "So you're not upset?"

He looks - momentarily shifty. "Uh - don't be mad."

Tommy quirks a brow.

"It's - okay so you know how we have to update all our medical information every year for the insurance?" Tommy nods. Licks his lips. "Um."

The next sentence is a garbled rush. Tommy gets 'power' and 'just in case' and nothing else. "Say again?"

"I... Uh. I updated my forms."

That paperwork was due about two months after the Vegas trip.

"To... Just in case I was incapacitated, I wanted to make sure..."

"Evan," Tommy presses.

"You have, uh. Power of attorney. And you're listed as next of kin with Maddie. Just. Just in case."

It should freak the hell out of him. It should make him question everything they've been doing, with the open honesty crap, for the last eight months.

"I want a divorce," Tommy says, and then grimaces. "Shit, that's not what I - ." And Evan's grin gets wider. Like he knows. Like he understands. Like everything they've been building and breaking and rebuilding for the last almost two years has actually made him an expert at interpreting Tommy when he doesn't have the right words in the right order.

"Gonna need that ring you've got hidden in your moms music box," Evan says, and then someone is rapping impatiently at the door Tommy shut behind him as he practically shoved past Maddie to get to him. "I get to propose this time." Tommy bites back a choked laugh while half the 118 spill into the room to whisper-yell at them both.

[saucingitup]

It hasn’t been easy for many who have come before them. Twenty-six years ago in Nagano when women’s hockey debuted as an official Olympic sport, some media coverage focused more on the sexual orientation of the players than the competition.

But relationships among athletes are slowly gaining a normality in women’s pro sports. In 2021, married couple Allie Quigley and Courtney Vandersloot won a WNBA championship with the Chicago Sky, and they are just one of many couples in the league. 

Women’s sports is undergoing a transformative expansion — new leagues, more money and investment, increased media coverage — and the story of teammates as couples is only going to become more common.

“I've always been the hockey player. But I have a wife and I can be myself. People are coming to the rink and saying thank you for allowing me to be myself,” Poulin says. 

If Poulin has helped make Stacey a better hockey player, Stacey has assisted Poulin in living her most authentic life. 

And in a lot of ways, they have become bigger than the game.

Their late-September wedding at Le Peaches and Cream in Low, Que., is described by many of the 192 family members and friends who were in attendance as the perfect day. Poulin and Stacey both call it “the best day of their lives” — an epic celebration of life and love, the culmination of a relationship that began in 2017 when they locked eyes while swimming at a Team Canada event at Blue Mountain in southern Ontario.

Stacey had just competed in her first world championship, Poulin a decorated champion many times over. They were teammates, but they didn’t really know a lot about one another. 

“A few of us decided to go skinny dipping in the pool at 2 a.m.” Stacey says. “The two of us looked up into the sky at the same time and we saw a shooting star. Our eyes met and we asked each other if we just saw that. Nobody else in the pool saw it or knew what was going on but we saw it. For the rest of that night it was a weird feeling. I had a feeling.

“We always go back to that moment. Even in my wedding vows, that was the thing —that she was the wish I had always dreamed of and I didn’t realize it until now.”

and they were linemates... everybody stop drop and read this article on laura stacey and marie philip-poulin

[finelinevogue]

you need to calm down

summary - a collection of moments before you and harry go to the eras tour

[ sat in my drafts for FAR too long ]

word count - ~1.5k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩

It started by fighting for your life to get tickets.

Only to lose the great war.

You’d been in bed all day since you had attempted to get Era’s Tour tickets this morning. You were trying to get tickets for you and your friend - now ex-friend - only to find out she’d already agreed to go with someone else when you couldn’t get yours, leaving you both ticketless and friendless.

You were scrolling through your phone to see how many fans, that you followed on social media, managed to get tickets.

That was when your boyfriend came home.

“Y/N/N? I’m home!”

Harry always called out the same phrase whenever he stepped through the front door. Sometimes, he might have just been washing your car and he’ll announce himself again.

It was very comforting to have the little routine though.

“I’m up here!” You shouted back.

“Okay, one minute!”

You tried to hype yourself into behaving like a normal person, who wasn’t entirely crushed by not getting tickets to your favourite artist.

You sat up in bed and tried to make yourself look a little less distraught.

Harry walked into your shared bedroom a couple minutes later with a gift bag.

“Is that for me?”

“Wh… Not even a hello?” He pretended to be offended, whilst he rounded your side of the bed to sit next to you.

“I’m sorry. Shitty morning,” You smiled papologetically, “Hi.”

He graciously accepted your kiss that you offered as an apology.

Harry’s hand cupped your cheek afterwards, eyebrows furrowed as he searched your eyes for something.

“What was shitty?”

“I didn’t get Taylor tickets.” You frowned, but pretended to pass it off as nothing even though Harry knew you well enough to known it wasn’t.

“Hmm. I’m sorry, baby. That must’ve been horrible.” He kissed your cheek after letting it go.

“It was.” You flopped back on the bed.

“Wanna see what I got?”

“Sure.”

Harry reached into the bag and pulled out a t-shirt. It was a plain white T but you could see it was going to have a print on the front of it.

Harry unfolded it and smiled as he did, watching your reaction rather than the looking at his gift.

You were confused when you saw the print on the t-shirt, though.

In my swiftie boyfriend era.

And it was in the style of the t-shirt that Taylor wears for the Red portion of the Eras Tour.

You laughed, “Nice.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. ‘Cause it’s what i’m going to wear when we go to the Eras Tour.” He smirked then, knowing that would prompt a reaction.

“What?!” You sat up quick.

“What?” Harry pretended to play dumb.

“Harry…” Your lips wobbled and eyes teared up as you processed his sentence.

“Are you upset you’ll have to go with me?” He smiled sympathetically at your tearful face.

“You actually got us tickets?”

“Yeah.”

You lunged for Harry then, tackling him down on the bed and pressing a kiss every 2 centimetres across his face.

You were both laughing, whilst you also crying happy tears, and Harry let you assault him with kisses as much as your heart was content. He did deserve them after all.

•-•

A week before the concert you were panicking.

“I don’t have a suitable outfit!”

You were running between your closet and your bedroom to show Harry possible options.

Currently you were in a sage green bralette and matching panties, in between changing outfits.

You came to stand at the foot of the bed, whilst Harry lay on your bed against the headboard and scrolling through his phone every few minutes for outfit inspiration.

“I like that outfit.” Harry said, smirking.

You picked up a rogue t-shirt that was on the bed, balled it up and threw it at him. “You’re disgusting.”

“What?! I’m just saying you look really good!” He defended himself.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms.

Harry put his phone to the side, stretching his arms behind his head and leaving them to rest there. In doing so, the muscles on his bare chest flexed and made you weak at the sight.

In only his boxers, Harry knew exactly what he was doing but so did you in your lingerie.

“So I should just go to the Eras like this?” You asked, unfolding your arms, bending slightly to press your hands onto the bed in front of you.

“Sure.” Harry said, less confident now.

“You’re okay with me parading around with little to nothing on,” You leant forward to allow yourself to crawl onto the bed, slowly moving forwards towards your awaiting boyfriend, “Showing off to everyone what’s yours.”

Harry tried his best not to move, but he didn’t have that much restraint.

Next thing you knew he had tackled you down onto the bed and rolled on top of you.

You breathed heavily as you awaited what he’d do next.

“Show off to anyone you like, babe, because at the end of the day I’m the only who actually gets to call you mine.”

And he started by kissing you, which made you forget all about your outfit dilemma for… well the rest of the day.

•-•

It was Eras day and you were so not ready.

You and Harry had taken the entire day off because you wanted a full swiftie experience and Harry would do anything to keep you happy.

You started getting ready in the afternoon, seeing as you didn’t need to be at the venue until 3PM and you lived only half an hour away.

Harry was currently ironing his trousers and tshirt, whilst you focused on your makeup.

“Babe?” You called.

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to bring that extra bag of bracelets.”

“It’s by the front door already, love.”

“M’kay!”

You bopped along to your Taylor playlist whilst applying some gems to your eyes to bejewel yourself. You had one opportunity to make this the greatest swiftie experience of you life and you were taking it.

You’d decided to go for a general western theme for your outfit, seeing as you loved all the eras too much to choose one.

The bohemian inspired dress you were wearing was white and you had your beaten brown cowboy boots to go with it. So your accessories had to make up for your plain’ish outfit.

The gems you were applying were silver to match your sliver jewellery.

Harry then appeared behind you in the mirror.

He stood there and smiled at you for a few moments.

“What?” You blushed.

“You look so pretty.” He said, admiring you through the mirror.

“You think?”

“I know.”

He came up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.

You closed your eyes as you enjoyed this moment.

Just you and Harry enjoying each others presence and being so close to one another was a feeling second to none.

As you closed your eyes you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in this moment but him.

“I love you.” He whispered against your neck, causing you to goosebump everywhere.

“I love you too.”

You turned to look at him, before leaning in to kiss him like he deserved.

He welcomed the kiss, cupping the back of your neck to keep you there, kissing him, for a few extra seconds than you’d intended.

When he pulled back he checked to make sure he’d not ruined your makeup.

“Put some gems on me?” He asked.

You smiled, “Okay.”

Harry moved to sit on the toilet lid, whilst you got your self-adhesive gem stickers ready.

You stood in between his legs, Harry gripping the back of your thighs to keep you there as if you’d just slip away otherwise.

“What colour?”

“Don’t know. Whatever you think is best.” He leaned forwards to kiss the bare skin between your bra and your sports leggings.

“Behave.” You warned, pushing his head away.

“I can’t when it comes to you.” He smirked up at you.

You blushed, can’t believing that he still made you blush even after all this time, before grabbing the gems and getting to work.

You applied some silver ones, the same as yours, to the corner of his outer eyes. “Just two?”

“Yeah, thank you baby.”

“Now you look so pretty.” You kissed the top of his head like he was your baby.

“Thank you.” It was his turn to blush.

“Now give me ten more minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Okay.” He stood up, leaning down to give you a parting kiss.

•-•

Just before you left the house, you made sure Harry had his bracelets on.

“No, I want you to wear this one.”

You took ahold of his hand and slid the bracelet on.

“Out of style.” Harry read the bracelet with a small laugh.

“You need all of the Style ones, okay? Only trade with people who have got 1989 bracelets.”

“I know, I know!”

You had so many on your arms and they were slightly cutting off your blood circulation, but it was so worth it.

Harry had a lot less on, but you also knew people would be desperately throwing their bracelets at him without wanting anything in returning just to be able to say they gave Harry Styles a friendship bracelet.

“Okay, ready to go?”

“I am if you are, m’love.”

“Then let me give you one last thing!”

You reached into your bag and pulled out another bracelet, this one you had spent precious time making.

“What’s this?” Harry asked as he took it from you.

Blue and white beads made the colours of the bracelet, whilst there were also some tiny moon charms and stars too because Harry always wished upon them.

Because he wished so hard, one of them had actually come true.

“Wait… Love, this says…”

“Mhm.” You watched as his eyes filled with tears and his hand holding the bracelet shook.

“Dad to be.” He read out the words wrapped around the bracelet so softly, like he couldn’t understand it yet:

You reached your hand around the back of his head, scratching the scruff on the back of his neck how he liked whenever he was emotional.

“You okay?” You asked with a smile, tearing up yourself over his soft reaction.

“I’m gonna be a dad.”

“Yeah, baby. You are.”

“We’re gonna be parents…” He looked at you and noticed you were as tearful as him.

He immediately put on the bracelet, before putting that hand on your stomach to feel whether he could notice a difference. Not so much yet, but just knowing his child was happily growing there made him want to cry all over.

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“I need to google how to change a nappy.” He made a joke, licking his lips as tears fell around his mouth.

“We’ve got time.”

And you kissed him before he could worry any more and make you miss the Eras…

[0mg-bird]

bombshell of the bau was soo good, I need more of those two pls!!!

Aghhhhhh thanks! Okay, upon popular demand, here’s a part two.

Bombshell Of The BAU~ Part II

Spencer Reid x Fem!Agent Reader

Summary: With all the attention you get, it’s hard to hide something as scandalous as what you and Spencer have going on. Often times, it comes down to stolen moments and too close calls.

But you don’t expect the team to find out the way they do.

Warnings: Tehehehehe. Okay, 18+ content, suggestive material, smut, MDNI, um they’re so cute! Morgan being a c!ck block on like too many occasions, slight voyeurism kinda?? Exhibitionism kinda? Two second mention of Reid’s addiction. Reader gets hurt by UbSub but she’s fine. Idk, enjoy.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Emily asks as she walks with you down the hallway.

You pull the clip from your hair so it softly falls down around your face. A sigh leaves your pouty lips that are long gone of lipstick.

“After the day I had? I’d much rather take a very long shower, order room service on Hotch’s dime and watch Sex and The City.”

Emily laughs. “That sounds pretty perfect to me. Hey, did Morgan really make you crawl up in that attic?”

A shiver runs through you. “I don’t want to relive that trauma.” You claim.

She rubs your arm affectionately. “Well, you try your best to recover.”

“I’m a fighter, I’ll be okay.” You say dramatically, flicking your hair out of your face.

Emily drops you off at your door. “Call me if you need anything.” She says.

“Aw, sugar, I can always count on you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, the way you always do as a goodbye to your female agent friends.

You dig the room key from your pocket and press it into the slot. Though, you don’t push the door open, you instead look to the elevator where Emily disappears in, headed down to the lobby where most of the team resides.

When the coast is clear, you briskly turn further down the hall, passing multiple doors until you come to stand at the right one. Sparing another glance over your shoulder, you raise your knuckle to the wood.

The door opens after two knocks, and that arm raised in the air is grabbed and tugged, making you fall swiftly into the room.

You let out a soft giggle, though it’s cut off by an equally smiley kiss.

The door clicks shut behind you as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Spence.” You sigh dreamily against him. “Long time, no see, handsome.”

He pulls back to look down at you, that lopsided smile you love so much, playing on his lips.

“I saw you this morning at the station.” He reminds, letting his hands roam up your sides to hold your face.

He’s learned how to be comfortable in his actions, knowing now that you aren’t going to push him away when he reaches out. For three months, the two of you have been hiding this well kept secret, and maybe it was wrong to keep something like this from the team but…

Both you and Spencer agree that it’s nice, having something to yourselves.

So that’s why the two of you steal away any moments you can, like being on the same hotel floor after solving a case.

You give a pout. “But I’ve been stuck with Morgan all day. He was so cruel to me.”

Spencer matches your rutted lower lip. “Oh, he was cruel, huh? How was he cruel, angel?”

You love it when he calls you that.

Your hand slips into the hair on the back of his head, it’s definitely gotten a little longer.

“Made me follow him all around town, boosted me up into an icky crawl space to search for evidence.” You explain, trying to kick your heels off.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Spencer jokes, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“It was a miserable, miserable day.” You sigh, dropping a few inches in height once your shoes are off. “But I’m here now and let me tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Spencer gets that slight blush he always does. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Instantly, lips are parting and he’s tasting that unique-to-you taste of your tongue. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but after awhile, he’s addicted to that sweet flavor that lingers on your lips.

You sigh and melt into him, ready to forget about all the work the two of you went through today. Taking your hand, you grasp one of his and bring it down to your belt. He gets the hint, then quickly tries to get you out of the clothes you can’t bear to be in any longer than you need to be.

While you pull his tie loose, he pulls the concealed carry holster from where it was tucked inside your waist band. He sets it on the nearby table, then pulls your shoulder holster off. You chuckle against him as you pull his own fire arm off and join it with the other two.

“So many guns.” You comment.

Without a risk in the way, he untucks your blouse. “Occupational hazard.” He adds.

Slowly, articles of clothing are making a home on the floor, and once you’re down to your underwear, you’re falling onto the bed with a laugh.

“You’re on my hair.” You wince.

“Sorry.” He adjusts, gripping your waist as he flips the two of you over.

Knees on either side of his hips, you’re free to do the thing you’ve been thinking about all day. Your favorite thing is the little gasp Spencer gives you when you first create a dizzying friction against him. You absorb it with your mouth on his, hands on his cheeks, manicured nails slightly pressing into his skin. You still haven’t figured out what flips inside of you, or what it is exactly that he does that makes your brain think ��I want to eat him’.

“What time are we flying out tomorrow?” You ask, placing his hands on your hips.

His fingers flex into your skin, and drags you against his lap.

“7:00.” He answers, knowing how much you hate early mornings, and long flights home.

“I have a bone to pick with that Hotchner guy, I think he’s out to get me.” You huff. “He ships us out when the sun comes up, he puts me with Morgan all day, and he never lets me hang around when you’re doing paperwork in the briefing room.”

Spencer, much more brave now, trails his lips down your jaw and neck.

“That’s because you’re distracting.” He states.

You gasp. “I am helpful!”

“Helpful when you have your hand between my legs under the table?”

You giggle. “I’m helpful in more ways than one, baby, and you are no better than me.”

With a slight disbelief of his eye, he pulls away from tracing your pulse with the tip of his tongue, and shakes his head at you.

“How am I no better?”

You slightly tug at the ends of his hair. “Spence, you almost got us caught when you shoved me into the conference room on your lunch break and Emily was looking all over for me.”

He smirks, feeling all too proud of himself for that bold move. “It was my lunch break…I was having lunch.”

Ever since Spencer learned how much he enjoys his face between your thighs, it’s like he’s a junky all over again and can only go so long without making you fall apart for him. You remember thinking that there was no possible way the two of you could get away with it as he pushed your skirt up and sat you on the edge of the table, kneeling before you. You also remember thinking this was one of the hottest things he has ever done.

In the beginning, you were worried that he thought you only wanted sex. The sex, it’s great, it’s …well, it’s wow. But being with Spencer means laughing more than you ever have, spending days off together, holding his hand in public and going to as many bookstores as he likes. It’s all so much more than you ever had before.

At work, it’s the same as it’s always been, you shamelessly flirt and Spencer, being the victim of your sultry ploys, keeps stumbling his words and hardly ever raises red flags.

Sure, the team noticed that he’s a little more out of his shell, has more confidence about him, but they just think he started believing all those compliments you tell him. In all actuality, he just feels proud that he has someone like you in his life, whose socks end up in his laundry and who leaves lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts.

Fingers trace up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin as they aim for the clasp of your bra. He’s getting pretty good at undoing the hooks.

But just before he can try to beat his time, a knock comes from the door.

The two of you pause, your lips pull back, your fingers leave his hair.

“What do we do?” You whisper.

Panting slightly from the lack of oxygen he receives when your tongue is slotted to his, he just shrugs. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Just like that, your hips continue their motion and he’s going to free your chest.

Another knock.

“Reid, it’s Morgan.” The voice comes.

Spencer lets out a rather irritated huff, his eyes shut as he swallows hard, willing the man to just go away.

“Reid! Open the door.”

Nope, he’s not leaving.

“Son of a bitch.” He grunts.

“Oh, watch that dirty mouth, Doctor.” You tease as he pulls you off his lap.

He stands, running through mathematical formulas to try and calm down in his boxers. He scoops up a sweatshirt that lays on the back of the desk chair and pulls it on. In a panic, you roll off the bed and hide behind it on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Reid-”

Spencer pulls the door open. “What?” He snaps.

Derek is surprised by his bluntness, but he takes in his disheveled appearance and is more confused.

“What were you doing?” He asks.

“R-reading.”

Derek looks at his bare legs. “Without pants on?”

Go away, go away, go away.

Spencer breathes out. “I was about to take a shower. Now, what’s up?”

Morgan folds his arms over his chest. “Everybody is downstairs, don’t be a loner up here.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m pretty tired so uh, I’m gonna turn in.”

Morgan looks at him for a moment too long. “You sure you’re okay? You seem…flushed.”

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” He reassures.

Laying face down on the carpet for a few minutes while the two men hash out whatever it is Morgan needed to, you come to the realization that you’re actually exhausted. By the time Spencer finally gets Derek to leave, you’re sitting yourself back up on the bed with a frown.

“What is it?” His brows furrow as he sees your expression.

Never have you ever had a partner so attentive, so loving in every touch they gave you. But Spencer runs his fingers through your hair as you tell him how you long for sleep, and he reassures you that it was okay you weren’t in the mood anymore.

He brought your bag from your room to his, though you truly just fell asleep in a t shirt and panties.

In the morning, you pretend you were in your room the entire night, and you meet the team in the lobby, fresh faced and ready to fly home.

“What’s your plans for this weekend?” Morgan asks after discussing with Emily what she’ll be doing.

You, who is currently taking up too much space on the couch, look over at the pair and shrug.

“I’ll have you know I have a very hot date with my bathtub when I get home and a very big plan to clean my apartment.”

That was all a lie.

You’d be over at Spencer’s this weekend, you’d be spending all your time with him, acting like a normal couple in public, having dinner and he’d get flustered when you’d kiss him in public.

But the team can’t know that.

Spencer comes back from the back of the jet, only to see his spot on the couch has been taken by your legs. He stares at you for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” You innocently question.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to.” He nods, watching you smirk.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please?”

You sit upright, planting your feet on the ground. “Always so eager to beg.”

Emily laughs, Spencer goes red in the face.

To them, it’s exactly how it always has been between the two of you.

He sits beside you, not too close, but your fingers twitch to reach over and touch him. Your nails go to your mouth instead to keep them busy.

Without truly paying attention, Spencer reaches over and tugs your hand away from your mouth and instead hands you a sucker he pulled from his bag.

It’s such a domestic act that though there’s nothing too suggestive about it, Emily notices. She clocks the behavior as something a little odd. Sure, you and Reid have always been close but since when has he carried around things for you?

Truly, you should’ve known that Emily would be the first to suspect something, but you continued on blissfully, believing that the team was so caught up in everything else that they wouldn’t catch what was happening right under their noses.

“The station was able to get us last minute rooms but there’s only four available, some of us are going to have to double up.” Hotch says nearly a month later on a case in a small Texas town you were only supposed to be in for the day.

But when the case turned into something far more complicated than anticipated, the team opted to stay for a bit longer.

The team shares a few looks as Hotch holds the motel room keys in his hand, all knowing that he wasn’t about to bunk in with Rossi anytime soon.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan declares as he begins to feel like it’s going to be assumed. “Make the girls share a room.”

All three of you begin to protest, knowing you’re fine with sharing but not fine with Morgan making that decision for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

JJ, always such a leader, looks to you. “If you and Prentiss want to share, I’ll bunk with Reid.” She sighs.

Spencer starts feeling like he’s a child again, watching his parents talk about custody, knowing one parent truly doesn’t want him.

The suggestion, though innocent, has your nails pressing into your palms. It’s a terrible idea in your mind, because here is a chance to stay with your golden boy for the night and it’s getting taken away.

“I’ll stay with Spencer, I don’t mind. Is that okay with you, Spence?” You turn to look up at him, innocent smile, sultry eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Fine- it’s fine with me…I’ll take the floor.” He stutters awkwardly, sealing the deal with a cricked smile that’s very Spencer Reid.

Hotch narrows his eye as he hands you a room key. “Keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“How can I when he just makes it so easy?” You joke, taking the key.

As you grab your bag, Morgan begins to uncontrollably laugh.

“Go easy on him.” He jokes. “He’s a romantic.”

“Morgan.” Reid sighs, following behind you.

“You have a fun sleepover! Hey, you still got that whistle? Yell fire if she gets to be too much!”

I glanced back at Morgan, shaking your head before looking to Spencer. “Come on, lover boy, I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” He mutters.

“Only sometimes.”

Hotch prays he’s not going to get an email from HR. He’s already hearing it from Strauss, a meeting needs to be set up for inappropriate conduct between coworkers, and everyone knows Garcia and Morgan aren’t the only ones to blame, not when you’re addressing Spencer as ‘handsome genius’ in work emails.

The door clicks shut and you turn the lock, letting out a sigh and taking in the modest room, everything decorated in a dated western fashion.

“Were you serious about taking the floor?” You ask, causing him to look back over to you.

“If you want me to, yes.”

Bless him and his gentleman qualities, it has you wanting to jump him in the most passionate way.

“Now, why would I want you to be down there when I’ll be up in the mattress all alone? Here I thought you had a high IQ.” You tease, opening your go bag. “You mind if I shower? You could join me if you want.”

The offer is tempting.

“I better stay here in case someone comes knocking, might be a little suspicious if we’re both dripping wet at the same time.” He says, feeling proud that he still can think logically, though it’s far too hard when you’re around.

A smirk pulls at your soft lips. “I thought I was the only one who knew anything about being dripping wet.”

Spencer becomes flush, his cheeks burning as he says your name, prompting you to stop your explicit behavior.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just so easy.” You come to kiss his jaw before finding your way to the bathroom.

The shower is warm and the low light in the bathroom is soothing, you rinse clean and shampoo your hair, making the steam smell like your scent. Spencer browses the minimal television selection, then fights his urge to unmake the bed because he knows you’ll want to adjust the blanket and sheets a certain way.

“The water pressure is surprisingly good.” You say after about fifteen minutes, coming out, releasing that waft of steam.

Toweling your hair, you come back to your bag to find your various travel lotions, though you don’t get very far because Spencer is looking at you like you just hung the moon.

“What?” You ask, slightly adjusting your robe with an unsure smile.

He smiles softly. “I just…it’s unfair how beautiful you are in every form.”

Your heart swoons like it always does when he’s around.

“You have no room to talk, mister.” You remind, abandoning the skin care and come to stand between his knees that he parts for you.

Your finger traces the line of his jaw as his hands gently place on the backs of your thighs.

“You’re so sexy with your hair pushed back like this. Did you start wearing it like this because you knew it would drive me crazy?” You ask coyly, half teasing, running your fingers through it.

“It’s getting long.” He says.

“Nonsense, I love it.”

“You love everything.”

“I love you.”

The two of you pause. Those are three words you haven’t exactly expressed often. It’s been said, in a ramble from Spencer where it just came out and you had beamed up at him like you’ve won a prize.

Now, you say it with certainty, and he wants to hear it again.

“I love you.” You say with more intensity, leaning down to where you have his face in your hands, holding him there as you kiss him.

“I love you too.” He mumbles against your lips.

You don’t pull away when he slowly reaches for the tie of the silky robe, you’d never reject him.

He’s already lost his shoes and socks, his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but he loses more as you help him. Further up on the bed, you let the open robe fall off your shoulders, not feeling bashful as he studies you with his eyes.

Spencer could never look at you in anything other way than adoration.

“Hotch is dumb.” You decide in his lap, placing his hands on your hips.

“We’re taking advantage of the situation.” Spencer declares, face falling to your shoulder as you sink further down onto him.

“I feel no remorse.” You breathe.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, the first time was a long time coming and it was perfect. So gentle and warm and everything the two of you craved. You laid in his sheets and traced the freckles on his skin and it’s a moment you think of often because you often don’t get them.

Now, you have a moment and are seizing it.

“You okay?” You ask with the drag of your hips.

“You’re heavenly.” Spencer proclaims, tasting the clean skin of your neck.

“Spence.” You gasp, getting the hang of a rhythm. “Fuck.” The word leaves your lips as soon as he thrusts up into you.

You and Spencer have always worked well together so this is no different.

It’s addictive, the feeling stirring in you, the shear pleasure washing over him. He knows a thing or two about addiction and he can confidently say that you make him feel far better than any needle in the vein did.

At some point, with your hands in his hair, mouth hot against his, and his grip moving you how he wants…

Your phone rings.

At first, you do your best to ignore it, but it continues in an annoying fashion.

“No.” You plead, trying to chase that oncoming feeling.

“Who is it?” Spencer breathes heavy as you reach for the device.

“Emily.”

His head falls in defeat, movements slowing, prompting you to answer.

You do your best to not sound aggravated as Emily asks if she can bring dinner by, but the idea of a burger does sound nice.

“Yeah, we could eat.” You state, free hand over Spencer’s mouth to keep him quiet as your slow movements continue.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Emily states in a kind yet suspicious tone.

“Will do, thanks Em.”

You throw the phone away, overwhelmed and determined to reach the high that was slowly slipping away.

“I hate our team sometimes.” You determine, frustrated that you lost momentum.

Not so gently, Spencer adjusts you to be on the mattress, taking over when you threaten to call off the entire idea because there was a stumble in the step.

“They should just know not to call on the off chance two coworkers are breaking HR rules.” He jokes, entering you without hesitation, making you gasp out.

The roll of his hips is slowly bringing you back to the precipice at a dangerously fast rate, leaving your legs to shake a touch.

“Emily is going to be here soon.” You stress, digging your skull into the pillow.

“We’ll be done before then.” He assures, reaching his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a hot friction.

“Emily could stand here and watch for all I care.” You state, pleading for a release. “I just- I need it, baby, please.”

“I know, I know, angel, you’re going to get it.”

How could a man be so soft when he’s doing such dirty things to you? It’s a mystery you’ll never quite understand, but Spencer has always been a wonder, so this is to be expected. He’s coaxing you to the finish, letting you suck on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

And when it happens after the build up of waiting for weeks, it hits like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless, open mouth gasping silently for air. Spencer is shuddering and pressing his face into that space between your jaw and collar bone.

You half expect a phone call, some kind of urgent message that will ruin this moment but nothing comes. It’s just you and Spencer.

At some point after getting cleaned up, you lay side by side, limbs tangled. Your eyes threaten to shut at the way he traces the shape of your face.

“Sometimes I’m just waiting to wake from this dream.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear.

You hum. “It’s not a dream, that’s what makes this so great.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head down to brush his nose to yours. “Sometimes I think it is, because in what reality am I really the person you choose?”

You don’t like that, it obvious on your face. “I’d choose you in every universe, even if you don’t choose me.” You say sternly, a hand pushing his hair back.

He likes when you’re genuine. Well, you’re always genuine, but you also always have a face on, one of coyness and humor. When you’re like this, emotionally bare, he likes you the most.

“I’d never not choose you.” He states before turning to kiss your wrist.

You want to comment about how romantic he is without trying, but Emily knocks like you knew she would.

The two of you spring up, thankful you’re already dressed. You take a calming breath as you head to the door, and Spencer quickly tries to straighten the wrinkled sheets.

Emily isn’t dumb, she knows something is different, but she truly doesn’t suspect anything yet, which is questionable because she has a perfect view of signs that indicate adult activities when she comes in to deliver the burgers.

She goes and tells JJ that the two of you act different, a little more guilty, but Emily doesn’t know for sure until a completely different scenario comes about.

Two weeks later, when you’re sent into a living nightmare. Hotch makes the call to send you into the Unsub’s house alone first, you do it without hesitation because that is just how you do your job when it comes to the life or death of three missing children.

“House is clear, I’m going down to the basement.” You say into the com on your vest, confirming your safety to the team.

But you speak too soon, the Unsub does something the profile was wrong about. Hotch sent you in there because he suspected the man to be submissive to confident women of higher standard.

Though you were cautious, you weren’t expecting the Unsub to attack you at first chance.

You do your best to fight back and get the kids free, but you’re completely blindsided. Who knows what would have happened if SWAT and the team didn’t storm in when they did.

When you sit in the back of the ambulance, in shock, a paramedic cleaning up the gash on your forehead, Spencer is there with concern and comfort.

“The kids?” You ask.

“They’re safe, they’re going to be okay.” He reassured, holding your hand between both of his.

“I didn’t…I should’ve-“

“Shh.” He frowns. “You did good, angel, everything’s alright. Do you feel okay?”

Your brows draw and you shake your head. “I don’t feel well. Do I look well?”

“You have a concussion, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Am I still gorgeous?” You ask in a dreamy voice.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He assures, cradling your cheek. “You’re just gorgeous with a head injury that you’re going to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Your eyes shut as you hum, the warmth of his palm runs through you. The two of you embrace gently, completely forgetting how casual you are supposed to be appearing.

The team sees it now, of course they do.

You’ll have to explain the secret you’ve been hiding from them later, but now you’re just listening to Spencer’s voice murmur to you, wrapped in his FBI jacket, fighting the urge to adjust his hair.

[hauntedfictionland]

❝Euphoria❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem! Reader!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jacaerys loves you. But he cannot have you. And it is killing him slowly.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Heartbreak, one sided feelings and lots of tears.

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: In this timeline, Rhaenyra never moves to dragonstone so reader and Jacaerys grow together because I didn't really know how to fit it otherwise. It's something shorter than what I would usually write.

Jacaerys significantly remembers the first moment he fell in love with you. You, Aegon and Aemond's sister, younger than the eldest but older than Daeron. Kind of in the middle really but you fell in the youngest ones. After Criston had urged Aegon to spar with him, and ser Harwin Strong saved him, you came. He had been sitting in the garden with an oak tree above, a frown on his lips and a cut on his left cheek by one of Aegon's kicks. And you walked up to him. That same glow on your face and a light that didn't seem to be there until you arrived.

He never really noticed you until that moment. Jacaerys was the first born son of his mother. The heir after heir. While you were the fourth child, after Haelena and of course, Aemond. You weren't a son. Or a first born daughter. He didn't seem to have any particular reason to talk to you. But that evening changed it forever.

You bend down towards him, a comforting smile on your lips. He watches as you ruffle his hair, so gently it sends shivers down his skin. You were called the pink doe, because of how kind you were. And you wore pink and white most of the time. And of course, very beautiful. He never noticed it until that moment. How? he didn't know. Jacaerys was a child, but he could feel love. You pull out a white flower from behind you, tucking it behind his ear.

Jacaerys closed his eyes when you pressed your lips to his ear, right where the cut was. And suddenly he can't even feel the pain anymore. Not when there was you. And there was euphoria.

He started paying a lot more attention to you afterwards. In fact, you, were all that he had on his mind. How you laughed, the blushes on your cheeks when someone—especially Aemond, complimented you, or when your embroidery got noticed by your mother. The queen Alicent. He noticed it all. And Jacaerys couldn't get it out of his head. He figured it was a phase, that he'd eventually grow out of it, yet years passed by, you both turned ten and three and he was speechless when you would show up in a golden and red dress at some family dinner, then fourteen came and your scent, vanilla and rosemary, stuck in his nose when air blew and your gorgeously blonde hair waved in his face.

And then fifteen came, when he finally accepted the fact he was oh so inevitably and irreversibly in love with you. Everything about you, he would accept. That you were a green, that your brothers were Aegon and Aemond. And even if you were like them, like the hightowers—which you weren't, you were the kindest and most gentle heart he had ever met, but even if you were, he would accept it with open arms. Because you, to him, were his great love. His euphoria. A feeling he always felt with you.

A dream. Because one day becoming king, and you, to rule by his side? to be his queen? it was a dream. And it was the best and most beautiful one he wished for. However little did he know, it would only stay a dream.

Because one windy day, right when he wanted to ask you to marry him, right under that same oak tree, you told him something that broke him in two.

You were betrothed to Aemond.

“What?” his heart falls, throat swelling dry. He can barely speak.

“Our mother arranged it. She thought he and I made good company and...” you sigh, your eyes closed as you smiled, “I've loved him for so long. It finally feels a dream come true.”

Oh. He watched as you look so in love, just with the thought of him. Just like how he looks thinking of you. He watched as a feast was thrown in the celebration of both your betrothal, he watched as you dance with each other, his hands on your waist and a gleaming smile on your lips, he watched as you take your wedding vows, and share a kiss. He watched Aemond claim his euphoria and love it like he was the one meant to be with you. Not him.

Jacaerys never imagined himself crying under that same oak tree after your wedding was over. He also never thought he would cry himself sleep, pillow soaking in tears you caused. He never thought he would get betrothed to any other that wasn't you. Well, Baela now, looked joyed to be his future wife. And the future queen. Yet he can't stop thinking about the crowns you both would have worn. The children you both could have had. The love you both could have shared. He can't stop thinking about his euphoria.

And he doubts he ever would stop.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛! 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

[zaynveir]

Doing Christmas stuff with the Lads boys ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺

-its only november but i needed to write something festive

-So I’m new to tumblr and this is my first time writing a post like this so please be nice 😭 if you have any feedback please share!

🎐𓍼ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖

Zayne

- you guys would definitely go to the local Christmas markets together and spend so much money on overpriced food.

- Because of Zayne’s sweet tooth, you would be checking out the stalls that would offer pancakes/waffles/churros that would have lightly dusted sugar or tons of nutella dripping from it.

- While walking around you would spot something but not buy it, Zayne would notice this and get it later as a gift.

- You would find a big Christmas tree and take a selfie with him and he would use it as the background for his phone.

- I would imagine there would be a street performer playing music and you would just stop and take in the beautiful song and just stand close to one another taking in the moment, hands intertwined.

- He would pick out an ornament to hang on the tree to remember that day.

Xavier

- okay so I think you and Xavier would go see the Christmas lights and walk through them.

- He would hold your hand the entire time and would wrap your scarf around you before giving you a warm smile.

- He would say things like “why does that reindeer look like that?” Or “that tree wasn’t decorated very well” which would make you laugh at how clueless he is.

- The different lighting would make him look even more pretty than he already does and you would capture it in so many photos.

- He would point out his favourite decorations and be so engrossed in the twinkling lights, that he wouldn’t even notice the cold air of the season. He would be so happy to share this evening with you.

- At the end of the night you would get hot chocolate and head back to his apartment, cuddle up in your matching pjs and watch some classic home alone.

Rafayel

- you can’t tell me that Rafayel wouldn’t take you ice skating in the winter months. He’d persuade you into going by saying things like

- “Cmon!…it will be an exercise to see how good your reflexes are from fighting all those wanderers.”

- He would try to be poetic and say “I would love to see you gliding around like a swan”

- You would be careful at first but you’d get the hang of it only falling on your butt 3 times, but Rafayel would surprisingly be clutching onto the side railings for dear life. You’d have to come over to him and teach him

- When you both got more comfortable it felt like the world melted away and it was just you two sharing a smooth dance

Sylus

- I think you and Sylus would do something like decorate the christmas tree together.

- “you don’t have a Christmas tree?! Do people in the N109 zone not have the Christmas spirit??”

“Sweetie I think people have bigger things to worry about than…a tree.”

- You would meticulously place ornaments only for him to place them somewhere else just to get a rise out of you.

- You would creep up behind Sylus and place the tinsel around him only for him to retaliate by chasing you to do the same to you.

- Mephisto would also take part placing the tinsel or decorations around the tree.

- At the end Sylus would lift you up to the top and you would place the star completing it.

[stayevildarling]

can i request a natasha romanoff x female avenger reader when they are together for years then they are celebrating their anniversary but Natasha kind of forget about it cause of their work. When they are about to sleep reader said 'you forgot about our anniversary' leaving Natasha with a confused look but reader sleep it off. Fluff or ended up with smut i think? its up to you hehe love your fics!!!

- 🤸‍♀️

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Falling back into us

A/N: Loved this request!! tysm dear anon🥰

tw/tags: established relationship, female avenger reader, smut (reader recieving, tasha recieving) oral, toys, fluff/hurt/comfort

word count: 3k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

The days slowly slipped into weeks as life continued at its brutal pace. Both Natasha and you had been busy lately, days filled with missions or training and just overall Avenger things. And there was no inbetween, either missions where the earth was in your hands and about to end if the Avengers didn‘t save it or boring missions where you and Natasha often joked about any of the recruits being able to do those.

Having been beside each other for years, Nat and you would often be sent on missions together, it being your preference in order to keep an eye on each other but also because how effortlessly you both worked alongside each other. A glance was often enough, communicating in silence when either of you noticed a threat, knowing the other‘s move, Natasha always able to tell when something made you uncomfortable and you equally knowing if something triggered her and reminded her of her past.

And the two of you knew just how to soothe each other after a mission, long baths together, eating your comfort meals together or going out together, mostly enjoying the quiet embrace of each other and in each other‘s arms. Natasha and you had settled a while ago, your relationship a little bit of a rollercoaster at the beginning when you joined, as the Black Widow couldn‘t keep her eyes or hands off you but at the same time didn‘t want to commit, due to her past. But slowly the two of you got closer and now neither of you would have it any other way.

The last few weeks had been especially rough, missions after missions, some short ones and some long ones, some with and some without the Black Widow as the world was a little all over the place at the moment. Today had been another busy day, Tasha still on a mission, set to return tonight, you in and out of meetings with Tony and some other Avengers, all while training some newer recruits while still needing to look after your own form and stay on top of your shape. You knew it was your anniversary today, the two of you having talked about it once in the past few weeks but the subject not coming up anymore.

And you knew Natasha wasn‘t one for big sappy gestures but somehow you wanted to make her return special. Usually if she‘d be gone and you would await home for her, there would be a home cooked meal waiting for her and in return, if Tasha was waiting for you there would be pizza and some beers and the two of you loved both equally. Still you opt for your girlfriends favorite meal, beginning in the early hours of the evening and humming quietly to some music, the thought of the redhead in your arms soon, filling you with excitement. You decided on some cold beers still, assuming she probably needed them, as well as some candles and flowers. Usually the Black Widow would spoil you with the occasional gift or flowers and you noticed she never recieved flowers half as often as you do, the redhead appreciating other things more but still you wanted to make her feel special.

By the time you are finished, you draw her a bath and getting her some comfortable clothes ready and some warm towels, hoping the state she would be in, wouldn‘t be too bad. Time passes slowly and as you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, your eyes read over her text of her being home a little later. In the end, you opted for a book and sat on the bed, leaving the door open and giving you the perfect view of her return, excited to run into her arms and enjoy dinner and maybe a bath with her, depending on her mood. But Natasha returned much later, there having been some initial issues with the mission and then some delay on getting home. She had been impatient, despite the missions success, wanting nothing more than to get home to you and coat your face with kisses.

By the time she steps through the now quiet apartment, the smell of food instantly hits her and she smiles to herself a little, loving you even more for this being her return ritual even after all this time. She sees the candles and flowers and wonders just what she had done to deserve this, a little oblivious with the stress from the past few weeks. After setting her bags and parts of her uniform down, she steps further into the apartment only to find your sleeping form on the bed, phone beside you and book still tugged in your lap, the signs evident that you wanted so badly to wait up for her. She wastes no time in silently making her way over, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing for a moment. With practiced ease she blows out the candles, putting the food in some containers for tomorrow before disappearing into the bathroom.

When she returns, hair still damp she smiles as she sees your chest rise and fall gently, wasting no time to get into bed with you and wrapping her arms around you. Sleepily and subconsciously you pull her closer, your arms wrapping around her. „I‘m back detka, sorry it‘s so late“ she whispers apologetically as you mumble something incoherent into her chest. „What did I do to deserve all that?“ she whispers and you open your eyes a moment before whispering „You.. forgot about our.. anniversary?“ but before you can say anything else, you cozily wrap into herself further and drift off to sleep. Natasha‘s features falter at your statement, having been so busy she completely forgot the date today. Guilt fills her further as she remembers the conversation you both had about it a few weeks ago, now understanding the flowers and the lengths you went through for her tonight.

She sighs to herself as she tries to relax, her limps and muscles tired from the mission but her mind wide awake. The redhead can‘t help but feel like she failed you, being Avengers was tough without a doubt as well as important but you had always been more important to her and she can‘t help but feel like she failed you. She stares at the ceiling for a while longer, the image of you snoring softly in her arms relaxing her and shushing the thoughts on her mind until her body eventually forces her to sleep. By the time you wake up next, the sun blinds you for a moment and you sleepily remember Tasha returning home last night, the memory of her laying in your arms filling you with a sense of comfort and safety but as you turn, you notice her absence and your eyes widen for a moment as she would usually sleep in after a mission, the two of you eventually getting up after some cuddles and reconnecting.

Before you can step out of bed however, the door to your bedroom opens, exposing the redhead with a tray in her hand, her features both apologetic and guilty. „Good Morning detka“ she greets you, walking towards you with some fresh pastries, juice and coffee, as well as a little vase with a flower inside. You frown, knowing Tasha certainly wasn‘t one to get up this early in the morning after a mission. She sets it down beside you on the table before straddling you, plastering your face in kisses that have you giggling. „I‘m so sorry I forgot“ she whispers and you furrow your eyebrows for a moment before realizing yourself what the two of you had missed the night before. „It‘s okay Tasha I promise“ you struggle in between her kisses.

She stops her movements to look at you for a moment before whispering „It‘s not“ her features utterly serious as you see the guilt in her beautiful eyes. „You do everything for me detka, your my rock and I‘m sorry I forgot, you went through so much effort and I-„ before she can finish you shut her up with a kiss, your eyes sparkling as butterflies errupt in your stomach. „Tasha- we can celebrate today, it doesn‘t matter“ you reassure and her features ease as she relaxes into you further. The two of you stay like that for a while, your eyes locked onto each other. „You hungry?“ she asks with a smile, glancing over at the tray beside you. „Yes“ you mumble as she begins rambling about the food choices but before she can list them further you kiss her again, more passionately this time as your tongue enters her, leaving her gasping for breath. „Not for that though“ you whisper before her puplis blow and a low chuckle escapes her.

Without warning she flips you both around, the Black Widow on top of you as she begins exploring your body with her mouth and hands, her fingertips soft on your skin despite her lips leaving dark hickies all over you. And despite all this time, Natasha would always explore your body as if it was the first time, treating you as if you are the most delicate thing on this planet, despite her ruthless pace at times. „Tasha“ you moan as she moves lower and lower, having undressed you with ease, leaving you completey exposed. She doesn‘t waste any time as soon as she sees your glistening core, her tongue diving right inside you as a gutteral moan escapes you. Your girlfriend eats you out with ease, moaning at the taste of you, devouring you as if you are the last meal on earth and she is starving. Your fingers find their way to her hair, pulling slightly at every sensation. „You taste so good detka“ she whispers, her mouth on your clit sending vibrations through you.

„Tasha please“ you whisper and she glances at you, her eyes filled with lust and a deep desire to please you before she attacks your clit again, your hips bucking and before you can say anything else, her fingers enter you, slow and gentle at first to ease you into it but as soon as those familiar screams fill the bedroom, she wastes no time in getting you close, her fingers hitting all the right spots as she begins curling them, your hips bucking into her face as you grip the sheets, chest heaving and words leaving you, the only noises, moans and the occasional screams. „God“ you moan, which causes her to look at you, her fingers still inside you as your walls clench around you. „I‘m not god detka“ she teases but you can‘t hear her, too taken back by the ecstasy of it all and before you know it, her mouth is on your clit again, your juices beginning to flow into her mouth and your girlfriend picking up the pace again.

„Cum for me detka“ she demands and it‘s all you need to send you spiraling over the edge, your body trembling as her fingers still inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm as she licks you clean, sucking all your juices, leaving you a panting, moaning mess. Once she pulls her fingers out, she holds them to your mouth and you open, tasting yourself on her fingers, which sends a low moan her way. She gives you time to adjust, crawling on top of you as she kisses you sweetly. „Breathe detka“ she instructs and you open your eyes, remembering you forgot to breathe for a moment due to your orgasm. As soon as your eyes find hers, you can‘t help yourself, ignoring the slight aching of your body and the exhaustion, as you lay her next to you, attacking her swollen lips, your tongue entering her again. „Eager are we?“ she teases and you bite her lip in response, knowing it‘s her weakness and shushing her quietly.

You take your time to undress her, kissing every inch of her body, a new bruise and cut that formed from a mission, despite the eagerness and the equal want, this being essential to you always. Natasha‘s head moves to the side, giving you perfect access to her neck as she moans your name, your fingers slowly travelling to her clit and exposing her soaked center. „I love you Tasha“ you whisper as you travel lower, your tongue licking through her folds and collecting her juices. She watches your every move, closing her eyes as you your tongue explores her, gently. Without warning you take the small vibrator from the other side of the bed, having hidden it there while she was fucking you senseless. As soon as she feels the cold sensation on her clit, her eyes open, eyebrow furrowing but as soon as you hold in the button, the familiar vibrations spread through her, causing her eyes to widen and her breaths to become unsteady.

You can tell she wants to scold you for surprising her like that but the pure desire takes over as you hold it firmly against her clit, her body shivering at the vibrations as you didn‘t bother with the first few low settings, going max straight away. Your fingers dive into her with ease, her walls instantly clenching around you, her eyes finding yours, mouth slightly agape. „Detka.. don‘t stop“ she whispers and you smile, not planning on doing that anytime soon. You switch your movements from time to time, letting the small vibratior travel lower and lower before it enters her, your mouth attacking her clit before slowing it all down, leaving her a breathless moaning mess.

Knowing her body so well by now, you can tell she is close, letting the small vibrator enter her again as her hips begin bucking against you. Your hands travel to her nipples, pinching them gently before your mouth settles on her clit again. „Detka..“ she moans and before you know it you send her spiraling over the edge, her orgasm washing over her as her nails settle on your back, leaving marks. Before she can calm down fully and slow her breathing you take out the toy, abandoning it somewhere closeby before your tongue enters her again, wanting to lick up all her juices. Her eyes widen at the sensation and you smirk once you realize she is close yet again. „Cum for me Tasha“ you encourage her before entering her again and without warnig her juices fill your mouth, causing you to moan as you clean her up.

Her breathing is heavy as you settle on her chest, laying in her arms and watching her coming down from her high. Once she opens her eyes, her eyebrows are raised and you can tell you would pay for this next time but it‘s replaced by love seconds later as her thump wipes over your mouth, cleaning some of her arousal from your face. The two of you stay like this for what feels like forever as you steady your breathing together, your hearts beating in synch against each other‘s chest and falling deeper into the moment and holding each other. It takes a while before you move again, the smell of food causing you to lick your lips, which Tasha can tell. She stands up for a moment, getting dressed again and helping you into your own clothes before she hands you a pastry.

„Juice or coffee?“ she asks softly and you smile at her before whispering „Juice please“ she hands you a glass and you can‘t help but wonder why she set on such fancy cutlery and glasses this morning. „Couldn‘t you find the regular cups?“ you tease but Natasha remains quiet as she stands beside you, waiting for you to see. And just as you are about to drink, you see something sparkling in there and carefully take it out. The sight of the ring with a small but beautiful diamond takes your breath away and you look at her in shock, not understanding at first. It‘s when she drops on one knee that the picture falls into place, when your full name leaves her lips so perfectly. „Detka I love you“ she begins, your eyes already glistening with tears as she is still kneeling in front of you, holding onto your hand.

„I never want to stop coming home to you, be badasses on missions together and I never want to miss anything like this ever again“ she confesses and the tears flow freely now as she carries on. „Will you be my wife?“ she whispers, her own eyes sparkling and all you can do is nod, completely taken away by what is happening. She smiles to herself as she carefully puts the ring on your finger, having planned this for a while, this not necessarily how she wanted to do it but then her not being one for great gestures either and you both preffered it this way. Once she stands up, you pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her as you kiss her. She wipes your tears gently, a proud smile on her lips as she admires the ring and how hot you look as her soon to be wife.

Once you calm down and realize this isn‘t a fever dream, your eyebrows furrow as you meet her eyes. „Tasha I thought you didn‘t want-„ you begin but she stops you. „I know darling, I never thought this was for me but I never want to be anywhere else than with you ever again“ she confesses. And for the remainder of the day you stay in each other‘s arms, Natashas confession having taken your breath away, never expecting this when first meeting the Avenger, certainly not expecting this when you woke up this morning but neither of you would have it any other way. And one thing was for sure, Tasha would never forget an Anniversary again after this.

[aparrotandaqrow]

Eric Ward touches on a very useful idea as well, "conditional whiteness". That and the related concept of proximity to whiteness are I think quite useful for understanding how a particular segment of Ashkenazi Jews move through American race relations, as well as how we're actually not so different from the Irish and Italians (and why that still doesn't make us white).

Conditional whiteness is the idea that a racialized minority can be offered some of the physical and financial security of whiteness, in exchange for meeting certain conditions. Those conditions are usually the adoption of Christian holidays, practices, and rituals, no longer speaking non-white languages, participation in American consumerism and the commercialization of holiday traditions, and, crucially, participation in white supremacy and the white supremacist side of society being willing to tolerate your privilege.

You absolutely do see some Ashkenazi Jews who are very white-passing who would be indistinguishable from their Lutheran neighbors except that they also have a cheap electric menorah next to their Christmas tree, and maybe their kids have bnei mitzvot (the only time they'll go to synagogue). They benefit from white privilege in many aspects of life, especially if their surnames aren't identifiably Jewish. But the cost of that privilege and physical safety is the destruction of their culture, being willing to ally themselves with their white neighbors against the less-desirable minorities, and they still can lose that whiteness at a moment's notice.

There may and often does come a point when the assimilated conditionally white Jews stop being useful idiots for the white supremacists, and that conditional whiteness is stripped away, and suddenly even being a white-passing Jew isn't safe. Yes, some Ashkenazi Jews are able to hide in plain sight. But tell me, is needing to hide your identity by becoming invisible, to avoid ethnic persecution, is that something white people need to do? This is why Jews can only ever be conditionally white (and only a small subset of Jews) (and part of the condition is the erasure of those other Jews) (you can't say "some Jews are white" you must say "all Jews are white" if you want to meet the entry requirements) (part of the bargain is not just the enactment of white supremacy against other minorities but also against your own people).

And this is why we can also draw useful comparisons to Irish and Italian Americans. Their lot has certainly improved quite dramatically in the last century. But stereotypes do still exist (there are sports teams called The Fighting Irish) (white people associate Irishness and alcohol abuse, c.f. St Patrick's Day) (Italians often face microaggressions about organised crime). And the cost of the safety and whiteness they have garnered came at a cost—not only their own, non-American, non-white cultures, but participation in white supremacy. The main difference between Ashkenazi Jews and the Irish and Italians is that Ashkenazi Jews started from a lower rung on the ladder, and our move to proximity to whiteness and its conditional safety started later. It's true you don't see Jews in the KKK, but there are a shocking number of Jews in Trump's inner circle, and some of them sound pretty white nationalist. There may not be Jews in the KKK yet—but if we continued down the same path of conditional whiteness, there could be.

Now personally I don't think that will happen. I think Jews may be too far down the ladder to ever be granted that much conditional whiteness, and current events in the middle east are serving to keep us in the spotlight in a way that inhibits further conditional whiteness (notice how the Left paints us both as white colonizers and simultaneously explicitly ties our physical safety to abandoning our identity, heritage, and claim to indigeneity) (white supremacy has nothing to do with politics) (in this sense Jews who align themselves with JVP are not particularly different from Stephen Miller in the context of moves to proximity to whiteness). But the dynamic and relationship Ashkenazi Jews have with whiteness is actually very similar to the one Irish and Italian Americans have; they're just a very different stage in that process. Which is also why, as an Ashkenazi Jew with predominantly Irish ancestry on my mother's side, I wouldn't characterize Irish Americans as fully white, either. White people aren't subjected to appropriation of their ethnic heritage and culture, ethnic microaggressions, nor have a history of being ethnically cleansed by white people.

I'm sorry but if Sami people can be understood as other-than-white and lighter featured First Nations people can be understood as other-than-white and individuals of our sisters the Romani when similarly afflicted by melanin deficiency can be understood as other-than-white....

Your classification of Jews, who span the whole gamut of color but share the racialization and experience of being othered among any majority, including whiteness in the north/west, is only further evidence of your racism. Because in doing so you continue to perpetuate double standards for Jewish people, which is dangerous when merged with perspectives that view whiteness as a merit signifier. Not that our identity isn't a fair bit older than this pretty reductive view, but

Regardless, I'll remind that the minority indigenous groups I mentioned are in the context of a white majority, but white people do not have a monopoly on colonialism. Plenty of people don't want to be called Arab in MENA and plenty of people aren't sure that they'd classify themselves as Chinese or Russian in the sense that the West views national identity. But that kind of nuance probably isn't something I should bother with if we haven't made it past point 1.

[soleilapproves]

Nanami Kento is the type of man to lose his mind if he sees your ankles. In other words, Nanami goes crazy whenever he sees a sliver of your skin.

Notes: pre-relationship, Nanami has a HUGE crush on you and is embarrassed about thirsting over you.

main masterlist

Prim and proper. Two adjectives that described Nanami Kento to the T. The man never came to teach with a hair out of place- everything was held back with the right amount of gel. His tie didn’t move unless it was to be removed for a fight and his suits always fit him just right.

He was a man of consistency and neatness. However, that side of him would only keep up until you were in sight. You with your radiant smile and boisterous laughter that had him turning around and shoving his face into the nearest wall out of pure admiration.

Nanami hated losing his stoic facade in front of you. It was like you turned him into a teenager who had hit puberty and began seeing girls in a new light.

It was just another day at Jujutsu Tech. The teachers were having a meeting in the staff room. Well, it was more of tea time while gossiping about the students. Nanami, as usual, didn’t indulge in the conversation and chose to listen instead.

You however, were not afraid to give in your two cents about Yuuji’s atrocious new shoes.

“It was so funny, he looked like a clown!” Gojo laughed out from the other end of the table. You could feel Nanami rolling his eyes from beside you but you still had a feeling that deep down side, he agreed with Gojo as well.

Gojo pulled out his phone to show you a funny picture of the student and you leaned over the table to see it, making your already tight blouse, ride up.

‘I’m a gentleman.’ Nanami told himself while staring at the translucent brown liquid in his cup. But then again, your ass was right next to him, and you were wearing the pants he liked too. It would be a missed opportunity to not look, especially when you were so up close and personal.

He looked. There it was, your beautiful skin, he couldn’t see much but he could swear it was probably one of the most beautiful things he had seen all week (aside from your face).

He gripped his cup tightly as he imagined himself stroking the soft skin of your back. He averted his gaze when you went to sit back down. However, he didn’t stare at you discretely enough because he had managed to make eye contact with a smug Gojo. The word gentleman did have the word man in it.

Another instance where he almost lost his cool while looking at you was when you both were assigned to fight a curse that had razors for fingers. It was too dangerous for the students to tag along.

You tried your best to dodge the blasted creature but managed to barely get by as one its blades grazed your torso, cutting your shirt in half. This angered Nanami and he quickly finished the curse in a fit of anger. He turned to look at you hunched over, examining your fresh new wound- a giant paper cut going from between your chest to your belly button. The cut wasn’t deep but it was painful.

Nanami’s blush deepened after reaching towards you. He could see your bra and he felt horrible at that moment. There you were, groaning in pain while he wondered if you’d sound the same under him.

The worst incident in his opinion was when you had invited him over to help you build your bookshelf and you opened the door wearing thigh high socks and shorts. Didn’t you know not to mess with a man’s heart?

Every time, you’d walk by him, he’d try to sneak a peak at your plush thighs. It happened so often that he accidentally hammered his thumb. “Kento!” You rushed towards him and sat down on your calves, taking his hand in your lap.

“This looks painful. Let’s get you some ice before it begins to bruise.” You lightly tug Nanami’s forearms but his eyes are too focused on your expanded thighs, begging to be let out of the confines of your socks. “Kento?” The man was shook out of his trance when you looked up at him with concerned eyes.

Fuck, he couldn’t do this anymore.

“What?”

“Ice? Your thumb is starting to bruise, come on.”

The man silently followed you to your kitchen while you set up an ice pack for him. His eyes tracked along your figure, especially the way your thighs chaffed against one another. Even though he had an ice pack in his hand, his skin felt like it was burning because of the proximity between you two.

You were cooing at the wound, regretting that you made him do all that work just to get hurt.

“I’m so sorry, Kento. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?” You apologetically asked. There you went again, shooting arrows at his heart with every word.

“Let me squeeze your thighs.”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“What.”

—

I don’t know how to end this. Sue me.

[nxuvillette]

hi um this is my first ever ask and i was wondering if you write for kazuha hhahsgkka if you do, could you write nsfw hcs for kazuha w a reader whos bold in public but gets really shy in bed ?

hope ur doing ok !

“KEEP THAT SAME ENERGY IN BED.”

HAVING SEX WITH KAZUHA

synopsis : kazuha noticed how bold you had suddenly become during the day, but he wondered if that behavior would remain the same if he acted on his fantasies.

❥ - including : kaedehara kazuha

❥ - a/n : so sorry this took a bit of time ! i was working the whole weekend, but i do hope you enjoy :>

content warnings : nsfw [18+], fem!reader, minors + ageless + blank blogs dni, choking, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, creampie, use of pet names (my love , baby), mentions of after care.

it had honestly been a fun game for you to mess around with your boyfriend, kazuha.

the two of you finally had some free time from your taxing jobs to spend some time with one another. you both missed each other’s presence more than anything else, so you decided to spend your day walking around the city of inazuma to mingle with different people or taste the plethora of foods that were offered to you from the vendors. 

you entered various shops looking at the most breathtaking kimonos that were designed by the women selling them. kazuha suggested at one point to try one of them on to see if you wanted to purchase the clothing for a special event, and that’s when you started making your move on your boyfriend. you slightly giggled and asked if he wanted to take a peek under the fabric to see what was beneath it. 

kazuha’s cheeks turned pink, but nonetheless he kept his cool to avoid any unwanted attention.

you thought his reaction was quite cute, so you decided to continue on with your games. in all honesty, you wanted to see how long you could keep up with the front. kazuha already knew what kind of person you were in bed. you would soak your panties the second his fingers made contact with your skin, so that kind of behavior you were emitting was a bit unusual to the man. regardless, he played along.

the rest of the day moved forward quite quickly. 

you had messed around with kazuha several other times throughout the day. your hands would wander a little too close to where his crotch was, or you would suddenly become very clingy randomly. to any outsider, they’d think you both were a happy couple who were holding each other from having such a long day of exploring, but it was the exact opposite. 

once you returned home, kazuha had completely pounced on you like a lion waiting on a rabbit to eat. he pushed you onto the mattress and wasted no time pulling your shirt down to reveal your breasts that he loved so dearly. you weren’t expecting such a reaction out of your lover. he was fumbling with your top and was almost in a trance trying to get you naked. the shyness you had once hid from him all day with the facade you put on was cracking like glass, and he was well aware of that.

“k-kazuha! wait, i–“

“ah? is your little act over with? you were practically slutting yourself out for me earlier, and now you’re shy? mmm.. no, baby, i’m not gonna let that slide.” he cut you off, making your face burn with embarrassment.

you couldn’t reply, because the moment kazuha’s hand disappeared down your panties, you lost your thoughts. his fingers circled around your clit. your body felt so warm. kazuha was one of the only men who has pleased you properly. he knows all of your weak spots and how to make you fall to your knees within minutes. he really got you there, and there was no way you were going to run away from him. not after all of that teasing. 

he paused his movements on your cunt, taking his hands to pull his pants down. his cock was painfully hard and his tip was already leaking precum from how turned on he was. he turned his attention to your own shorts and he didn’t hesitate pulling them down your legs along with your underwear, tossing them elsewhere in the room. he practically salivated at your messy pussy that was all out for him. fuck, he was so damn lucky to have someone as beautiful as you laying before him. 

he didn’t want to waste anymore time. he pulled your body closer and plunged his cock into your hole, making your fingers curl around the sheets. both of you groaned in pleasure at the sensations you were feeling. kazuha’s cock reached areas inside you that you weren’t aware of. 

once he fully bottomed out, kazuha unleashed a relentless pace against your cunt. your gummy walls wrapped around him so nicely and perfectly it was almost like you were made for him. “ah! kazuha!” you moaned, making eye contact with him.

his hand attached itself to your throat, tightening his hold on you to the point where you struggled to take in air. “you like being treated like a slut, huh, my love? you’re so dirty..” he cooed, releasing some of his pressure he had on your neck.

your hands flew up to grasp his shoulders while his cock bullied your aching hole. a few hair strands began to loosen from the ponytail that held it back. he looked so good. there was sweat glistening on his body and a slight pink tint was dusted on his cheeks from how aroused he was in the moment. there was nothing better than the view right in front of you. 

you were taken by surprise when kazuha’s thumb came to your lips, prying them apart so your mouth was now open. he swallowed for a moment before a drop of his own saliva dribbled into your mouth. you blinked when his spit reached your tongue, spreading its warmth all over it. “don’t swallow until you cum, got it?” he looked down at you with seriousness in his expression.

you immediately nodded at his request and held his spit on your tongue. you could feel your body inching closer to its high. there was this white hot pleasure that kept igniting whenever kazuha’s cock kissed at your g-spot. it was clouding your judgment and your body felt amazing. you didn’t want it to end, but you were also chasing after that release you desired so badly. 

kazuha gritted his teeth when he felt your cunt clamp down around his dick. his hips suddenly stuttered. he couldn’t believe you came that quickly. he knew it didn’t take a lot for you to become so wound up, but this was quite a shock. “yeah, that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good for me.. take me in. take all of me inside you!” he threw his head back as he thrusted into you continuously.

once you swallowed, you let out cries of pleasure. your pussy felt so tired and sore. yet, kazuha kept up his assault on you. he was so close. he couldn’t help but start letting out noises as well. “kazuha! yes, right there!” you whined, locking your ankles around his torso.

with one final thrust, he finally peaked and released himself inside of you. he couldn’t help but immediately start kissing you as he rode out his orgasm. the kisses you shared were sloppy and quite messy. smacking sounds could be heard if someone else listened in. 

kazuha pulled himself out of you and laid down beside you on the bed. his arm went to circle around your waist. you could feel his heart beating against his chest as you placed your head against him. he still smelled as good as he did when you first met him during the day. 

he surely hoped you’d try some games again with him some time.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[no-144444]

lies and flights- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: you two have a moment, the moment ends, and so does something else...

part one | part two | part three | part four

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He sighed as he walked into the paddock, cameras all over him as question after question was thrown at him. He answered as many as were appropriate and off he went, signing hats and t-shirts as he went. He had so much to do, so much to get through before qualifying, yet all he could think about was you. He didn’t mean to make it a big deal, he just wanted to take care of you. You’d fainted, for god’s sake. He was worried about you. 

He caught a glimpse of you walking in with Lando as he was filming some random content for one of the sponsor's instagram pages, and his mood sank lower than it already had been. You with Lando. 

It’s not like either of you had confessed, but you’d both felt the chemistry between the two of you, right? He finished up with filming and followed Tom into one of the meeting rooms, ready to look over data, when he (literally) bumped into you, sending you flying. 

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered as he caught you, holding you by the waist. “My bad.”

You smiled. “Saving me two days in a row? You should be a bodyguard instead of a driver,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”

Lando’s jaw dropped when he heard you call him ‘Osc’, and a sense of pride bloomed in his chest. Osc was getting the girl! Lando sent him a quick thumbs up behind your back as he also held the camera. 

“What’re you doing here?” Oscar asked, not yet letting go of you. His hands were so warm, radiating heat through your whole body and making you nervous. You had a love-hate relationship with interactions with Oscar. He made you so nervous, no matter what. Your years of media training and professionalism could get stripped back by one small chuckle, one small smile, making eye contact. It was embarrassing. You liked him so much, which was a separate can of worms itself, and he looked at you the same way he looked at everyone.

“Motorhome tour,” you explained, looking up at him. He could’ve sworn he saw something in your eyes, something that practically asked him to make a move, to kiss you here in front of everyone. Then it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, your professionalism taking precedence over your feelings. “Moving on,” you turned back to the camera as Oscar dropped his hands from your waist, allowing you to move on. “To the driver’s rooms!”

He chuckled as he watched you and Lando run towards the other side of the motorhome, and Oscar started walking again, not unaware of the eyes Tom was giving him. 

“You two seem close,” he smirked. “The shoes aren’t a dealbreaker, no?”

He laughed. “Why does everyone bring up the shoes?!”

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“Congratulations on P3, Judgy McJudgy Pants! How did the race feel?” you questioned. You were doing post-race interviews today, and Oscar had gone from P5 to P3. 

“Yeah, it was difficult but we kept a good pace, Max was just too fast to catch,” he nodded, his eyes staring into yours. 

“I’m glad to hear, are you glad for the race to be over?”

He nodded, chuckling. “Very glad.”

“The heat must be something else in those cars, on top of the regular heat. Does that make getting out of the car a lot more of a relief?” 

“It does, but I was more excited about the interviewer,” he smirked. He was not doing this right now. He was not flirting with you on live television. You got the signal that the interview should end and you let out a quick breath of relief. 

“Well thank you, but I in fact need to interview your fellow podium drivers, thanks for your time.”

Lando walked over, ready to take the mic and he smirked at Oscar. “Getting bold?”

He shrugged with a smile. “What’s the worst she can say?” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

"Oscar Jack Piastri!" Nicole's voice rang out as he lifted his phone to his ear. "My son flirting with people on live television is not something I want to see."

He chuckled as he mother continued berating him, and they chatted about the race for a while, before he had to go to the airport. When he walked to his door, ready to leave, he wasn't expecting a knock at the door, nor was he expecting it to be you.

"Hey Y/n," he smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good thank, you?" you were out of breath. Had you ran here?

"I'm great, thanks. Are you alright?"

You came in and closed the door behind you. "What are you playing at?"

"Excuse me?"

"The interviews, the pictures, everything. What are you doing?" you questioned.

"Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled. "I like you, like, like like you. I thought I made that clear?"

You grimaced and his heart sank.

"It's fine if you don't-"

"Oscar, no, just... it's kind of awful timing and we can't be together, right? That would never work, we hate each other, right?" you rationalised, willing him to agree with you.

As much as he wanted to scream and rip his hair out, he nodded, a flat smile on his face. "Exactly, that's why I was just joking."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God!" you chuckled. "Well, congratulations on the win and I'll see you in Qatar, thanks Osc."

"Bye," he smiled half-heartedly, then flung himself back on his bed when you left. You didn't like him back. And what did you mean by 'bad timing'? He spent his entire flight, awake and wondering about what you meant, and thinking over every interaction, wondering if he'd really just made it all up in his head.

But the way you looked at him, it couldn't just be platonic, right?

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yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charlesleclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,928,733 others

yourusername: @.f1, you've been my home for many years and I love you, thank you for starting my career, but also for being my favourite series of motorsports since I was a little girl. But now @.skysports is branching out and I'm moving across the pond at the end of this season to cover @.Indycar and @.nascar ! I'll miss everyone so much, but I am so so so excited to see that the future will bring! 6 races left! (also sad to be missing the historic season that 2025 will be, but oh well!)

comments

user83: oh I'll kms.

pierregasly: we'll miss you xxx liked by: valterribottas, zhouguanyu, landonorris, danielriccardo, charlesleclerc, carlossainz, alexalbon, francocolapinto, liamlawson, yukistunoda, estebanocon, fernandoalonso, jensonbutton, aussiegrit, kevinmagnussen, nicohulkenburg, lewishamilton, georgerussell, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, isakhadjar, paularon, arthruleclerc, lancestroll, checoperez, maxverstappen, alexandrastmleux, kikagomez, lilymhe, rebeccadonaldson.

skysportsf1: We'll miss you most! xxx

tedkravitz: It's been a privilege and an honour to work with you. You truly are the funniest person I've ever met. Your segment on Ted's notebook will be thoroughly missed. You will be thoroughly missed.

charlesleclerc: Bonne chance mon amour! ❤️

yukistunoda: who will organise interviews with me and pierre now? 😿 -> yourusername: I'll ask ted :(

danielriccardo: legend of the sport :) -> yourusername: looking in a mirror are we?

mercedesfmg: we'll miss you y/n! 🩵

mclaren: missing you already! 🧡

user72: guys... has anyone told oscar? -> user21: he must be so upset :( -> user92: yeah his best friend and his crush leaving F1 in the same year.

stakef1: missing you 💚 -> yourusername: manifesting hulkenburg podium next year

lewishamilton: I'll miss you, but you definitely have to come back for some hot laps... maybe Austin next year? -> yourusername: I'm there :)

maxverstappen: sad to see you go, but i can't wait for all the stories :)

landonorris: FUCK I'M CRYING WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS YOU TOO MUCH PLEASE DON'T GO -> yourusername: IT'LL BE FINE LANDO YOU'RE A BIG BOY

patooward: YAY WE GET Y/N!

haasf1team: our favourite interviewer ever ❤️

alpine: missing you loads 🩷

jackdoohan: NO I'M FINE THAT MY BEST FRIEND IS MISSING MY ROOKIE SEASON -> yourusername: I'LL BE IN MELBOURNE AND AT THE LAST FEW RACES!!! -> jackdoohan: ...forgiven.

liamlawson: NO DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE -> yourusername: JACK WILL BE THERE NEXT YEAR CALM DOWN

kimiantonelli: miss you xxx

olliebearman: will be in need of your smoothie recipe since you won't be here to make it :( -> yourusername: I'll send it to you :)

user829: someone check on oscar rn...?? -> user36: fr he's probably sobbing his celeb crush is leaving the paddock for good ->user292: BRO IS IN THE LIKES !!!!!!

redbullracing: we'll be staying tuned to watch shine -> user88: wow a better send-off than daniel got lmao

logansargeant: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 😁😁😁😁 -> yourusername: ME NEITHER

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He stared at his phone in shock.

What. The. Fuck.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

part one | part two | part three | part four

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Halo~~ can I request and Poly!Marauders (James, Sirius and Remus) x fem!reader? Where reader has recurring hypoglycemia and ends up standing the boys up on a date because her levels had been finicky all day and she forgot to tell them. So when they go find her to confront her about it they find her on the floor on like the verge of unconsciousness (or maybe she's already passed out) with dangerously low levels and help her like the good loving boyfriend's they are. Pretty please 🥺

Thank you for this request! I had fun with it, and I hope this works for you! 💞 Poly!marauders x fem!reader 💞 2.2k words

The sun dips lower in the sky, painting hues of lavender and pink across the horizon. It's the perfect backdrop for the evening you've been anticipating all week with James, Sirius, and Remus—a night filled with laughter and camaraderie. They've planned something big, no doubt; James has been jokingly boasting about his "romantic genius," while Sirius grins like a Cheshire cat and Remus rolls his eyes, though the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Their good humour is infectious, and you can't help but look forward to whatever they have in store.

But today, your body doesn't seem to be on the same page as your mind. You've woken up with trembling hands and a light head, your blood sugar levels fluctuating in a way that makes your stomach churn. You're not new to hypoglycaemia—you've had episodes before, each one leaving you weak and shaky—but today it lingers, refusing to let go despite your best efforts to stabilise it. You push through, hoping to shake it off, but the fatigue clings to you like a second skin, weighing you down.

"Just a little rest," you tell yourself, sinking into the couch. "I'll feel better after."

Setting an alarm, you allow your eyes to flutter closed, promising yourself that it's only for a moment before you get ready. You know you should let the boys in on what's happening, but the thought of explaining—of offering up excuses yet again—seems too daunting. Too draining. Instead, you tell yourself it will pass. It always does. A quick nap should help; then you can join them, fresh-faced and ready for the evening's escapades.

---

The air is thick with tension at the small restaurant where you agreed to meet. James sits with his back to the wall, his foot tapping out a rhythm of worry against the table leg. He checks his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, his brow furrowed.

"She's late," he mutters, though everyone at the table is painfully aware. "She's never late."

Sirius glances toward the door again, his usual swagger replaced by something more akin to concern. "Maybe she got held up," he offers, but there's a tightness in his voice that belies his nonchalant exterior.

Remus's eyes flicker between the two, worry etching deep lines in his already weary face. "She would've sent word if she couldn't make it—she always does."

James rubs a hand through his unruly hair, the action doing nothing to quell the unease that creeps into every crevice of his being. "That's what has me worried," he admits, gaze far off. "It's not like her to just... vanish."

"Then we should go and see for ourselves if she's all right," Remus suggests, rising from his seat. The chair scrapes against the floor, a grating sound that mirrors the tension threading through each man's veins. "Better safe than sorry."

"Agreed." Sirius pushes away from the table, his frame rigid with an intensity borne of concern. "Let's go."

Without another word, they leave the restaurant behind, its warmth and light becoming a distant memory as they step into the biting night air. Their footfalls echo down the empty streets, a testament to their shared apprehension.

The apartment is eerily still as they approach, the silence hanging heavy in the air like a shroud. Something about it feels wrong, disjointed, and Sirius is the first to cross the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/N?" he calls out, his voice laced with both worry and hope. But there's no answer, just the echo of his own words bouncing off the walls.

James follows closely behind him, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. Remus brings up the rear, his gaze taking in every detail, a frown etching deep lines into his forehead.

"Over here!" James' shout breaks the tense quietude, his voice edged with panic. He's found you unconscious on the couch, your body too still. In an instant, he's at your side, dropping to his knees and pressing two fingers against your pulse point.

"She's breathing," he says, relief washing over him, but it's short-lived. "It's shallow, though. And her pulse... It's too fast."

Before he can say anything more, Remus is already moving, his long strides carrying him to the kitchen where the emergency kit is kept. His hands are steady as he reaches for the Baqsimi nasal spray, fingers deftly peeling away the red stripe that seals it. The lid comes off with a soft pop, revealing the small device within.

Sirius kneels beside James, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes lightly against your skin. His face is a mask of fear, guilt, and resolve. "Why didn't she tell us?" he murmurs more to himself than anyone else, the question hanging heavily in the air.

He turns to Remus, his grey eyes hardening. "Are you ready?"

"Always," Remus replies with a steady voice that belies the tremor in his hands. He positions the nozzle of the spray into one of your nostrils, his brow furrowed in concentration. "This should help. Just hold on."

With a gentle push, he depresses the plunger, watching as the green line marking the dose disappears. There's a collective holding of breaths as they wait for any sign of change.

"We've got to hope for the best," Sirius says, though his voice wavers slightly. "She'll pull through. She has to."

"Of course she will," James adds, his fingers tightening around yours, as if he could will you back to consciousness through sheer force of grip. His free hand finds your other cheek, his thumb tracing circles over the cool skin. "She's stronger than this."

Remus is already moving again, his long fingers sifting through the cupboards for the quick sugars he knows you keep on hand. He retrieves a carton of orange juice and a box of crackers, sparing no time in spreading peanut butter across the crackers and pouring out a glass of juice. Once prepared, he places the items on the low coffee table before sinking onto the edge of the couch. "We should give her these when she comes around."

The room falls into a tense silence as they wait, their gazes never straying far from your prone form. Sirius's hand hovers over your shoulder before finally making contact, his knuckles ghosting over the fabric of your shirt. His eyes, usually so full of mischief, are shadowed with concern. "She scared us," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"More than that," James says, his tone gruff with unshed emotion. "I can't—"

His sentence hangs unfinished, the weight of it too heavy for words. Instead, he reaches out, brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

And then, so faint it's nearly missed, there's a shift. A soft groan escapes your lips, barely audible but enough to cause their hearts to leap. Your eyelids flutter, struggling against the pull of unconsciousness.

"Finally," Sirius mutters, relief flooding his features even as his brows knit together in a scowl. "Took your sweet time, didn't you?"

James leans in closer, his breath hitching as your eyes begin to open. He presses a warm kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "You're okay," he says, his words more of a prayer than a statement. "We've got you."

Sirius moves to help you sit up; his touch is steady, firm yet careful, like he's afraid you might shatter at any moment. The room spins slightly as you're lifted, but Sirius' presence is grounding, a reminder of reality amidst the haze of confusion.

"Easy there," Remus says, his voice soft yet commanding. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, not quite reaching his eyes, which remain clouded with concern. He picks up the glass from the coffee table, the contents sloshing gently.

"Here," Remus coaxes, holding the straw to your lips. "Take small sips, slowly."

The juice is cold and slightly tart in your mouth, a stark contrast to the warmth spreading from your core. You reach to hold the glass, but your hands shake, the tremors betraying the weakness you feel. Remus keeps his grip on the glass, steady as always.

You try to sit up straighter, to focus on the faces hovering around you, but every movement feels heavy, slow. The room tilts a little, and you wince, shutting your eyes. When you open them again, they're still there, all watching you, their expressions etched with concern.

"What..." Your voice is a raspy whisper, barely there. "What happened?"

"Scared the bloody hell out of us, you did," Sirius says, his tone equal parts relief and frustration. He leans back in his chair, passing a hand across his face. "We found you passed out. Your blood sugar was dangerously low."

"We used the nasal spray," Remus explains, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "You're lucky it acted quickly."

Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of the day's events. "I—" You begin, but your throat constricts around the admission. "I didn't mean to..."

"We know," James says quietly, his hand covering yours where it rests on the cup. "But you need to tell us when you're not feeling well, love. We could've stepped in sooner."

"I didn't want to ruin the date," you mumble, guilt curdling in your stomach.

"Ruin?" Remus's eyebrows knit together. "That's not how this works." His tone is stern but laced with worry, not anger. "Your health comes first, always. You could have—" He stops, a grimace passing over his face as if the words themselves are painful. "You could have taken a turn for the worse before we found you."

"Exactly," Sirius interjects, his voice softer than before. "You don't spoil anything by telling us you need help. We love you, Y/N."

A lump forms in your throat as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You cast your gaze down to the cup of juice. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." James reaches out, gently tilting your chin up until you're looking at him. The concern in his hazel eyes is almost too much to bear. "No more apologies, all right? Just let us help you. That's what we want."

The corners of Sirius's mouth lift into a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head—a gesture that feels as much a promise as it does an act of care. "Exactly. You're not getting rid of us that easily, so you might as well let us look after you."

Remus chuckles softly, though there's a tightness in his shoulders that suggests he's far from relaxed. "And speaking of which—finish the juice. Then we'll get some food in you."

"I'm fine," you murmur, but it's a feeble protest at best.

James's grin is slight, more a quirk of the lips than a full smile, but it's there, a glimmer of light amid the shadows. He picks up a cracker spread with peanut butter and extends it towards you. "Come on, open up. Don't make me do the airplane noises."

Your lips quirk despite yourself, a response to James's levity. You take the offered morsel, and for a moment, the air in the room loosens, the tension fraying at its edges as they watch you eat.

Remus shakes his head, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You're lucky we look out for you."

"And you'll never hear the end of it," Sirius adds, his grin broadening. "We'll remind you every chance we get."

James lets out a quiet chuckle, but it quickly fades, replaced by a solemn expression. "Good," he says, his gaze steady on yours. "Because we won't let this happen again."

You finish the juice and crackers, every last crumb swept away, and as the warmth gradually returns to your body, so too does a sense of calm. James tucks a blanket around your shoulders, ensuring you're as comfortable as possible. Sirius settles beside you, his arm a steady presence around your shoulders while Remus remains at your feet, gently massaging your ankle.

James sits on the floor in front of you, his back resting against the edge of the coffee table. There's a tranquillity to him that wasn't there before, a resolution settling over his features. "You need to rest now," he tells you, not as an order but as a suggestion born from concern. "We'll stay."

"Staying?" The word slips out before you can stop it, a small voice daring to hope. "You're not leaving?"

"Absolutely not," Sirius says, his voice firm and unyielding. "We're staying here tonight. You won't be alone."

Remus's eyes lift to meet yours, meeting your gaze with a gentle warmth that defies the harsh reality of your situation. "Of course not," he replies, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Until you're fed up with us," James adds, his own grin small but genuine.

A weak chuckle escapes your lips, though it does little to alleviate the tension coiled in your chest. "I don't think that's possible."

And as sleep begins to pull you under, the last thing you feel is the pressure of Sirius's hand on your skin, grounding you in this new reality. The last thing you hear is James's voice, low and steady as he whispers, "Always."