#cozy guided sleep
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Love is Simple and without Bounds
#meditation#guided meditation#meditation guided#calming meditation#meditation morning#morning meditation#manifestation#sleep meditation#10 minute meditation#meditation 10 minutes#manifesting meditation#guided sleep meditation#relaxation#guided meditation 10 minutes#manifesting#law of attraction#sleep retreat#refreshing sleep#fireplace#cozy guided sleep#stress relief#sleep wellness#restful slumber#inspiration#peace#peacefulmusic#scoothingmusic#lovefacts#love
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silly skykid doodles
#i Love the new windowsleep spot in the enchantment guides shop#its so cozy and so nice to sleep in#only place better is the treehouse#sky children of the light#sky cotl#that sky game#skyblur#art
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I'm in a roll....
The 141 in grey sweatpants. 🥵
You're in a roll? Me too. A brioche roll. Or maybe a Hawaiian roll. Or rolled inside one of Price's many cigars. Kidding (not really). I knew what you meant.
And grey sweatpants...yes please! I am salivating over here. Literally drooling. And it's only grey sweatpants. No shirts. No shoes. Just sweatpants and muscle. (my god I need to go touch grass).
These are...spicy. How could they not be? It's our favorite men in nothing but grey sweatpants.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, swearing, invitations for sex, dirty thoughts, sexual situations, married life, fade to black
Word Count: 2k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
“It’s bedtime. Bath. Pajamas. Teeth.”
“But Dad! Lucy and I—”
“Bed.” You grin into your glass as John ushers the children out of the living room. “Come on you two. I want to kiss your mother.”
“Ew. Gross!” the kids screech in unison.
The trio disappears down the hallway. You hear water running and the laughter of your children. John eventually emerges thirty minutes later. He runs his hand over the top of his head, sighing heavily.
When he enters the living room and notices you, he grins mischievously. His body is on full display. Broad chest with a lovely dusting of dark hair that trails downward to disappear beneath the band of his grey sweatpants. John is all thick muscle. A wall of strength. You’ve always loved that about him. How he seems to take up so much space or the way he crushes you with his body when he goes in for a snuggle.
John plops down on the sofa beside you. The moment his ass hits the cushion, John grabs for you. You giggle, playfully pushing at your husband as his weight tips you back, pinning you to the sofa.
“The kids,” you protest with a whisper.
“They’re sleeping,” he replies just as softly, keeping you pressed beneath him.
John goes in for a kiss. It is sweet. Slow. Deep. Completely indulgent. There is so much of him. And his scent is everywhere. It fills your lungs. Makes you weak.
Your lips part and John slips his tongue inside. You start to soften, to lean into his kisses. Each is salt-laced passion. A tease for later. He might have you pinned against the couch, and his tongue down your throat, but John will move this behind a locked door.
As John goes in for another kiss, the sound of a door unlatching comes from the hall. John freezes and you go still beneath him.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters.
Pushing up to a more seated position, John addresses the offender with a raised voice. “You best be in bed.”
There’s a gentle squeak, and then a door closing.
John sinks back down, resting his forehead against yours. He sighs heavily, and you give him a quick kiss. He returns it, and then snakes an arm under your back. He hauls you up and into his lap. You straddle him, hands pressed against his firm chest.
Through the sweatpants, you can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. John’s hands roam downward to cup your buttocks, squeezing.
“Ready to take this elsewhere?” he asks, grinding his hips upward.
You have to stifle a moan.
“Please, John.”
With a light slap to your ass, he lifts you off his lap and onto your feet. The ground is solid. Steady. But then John’s hands return, and then you’re away, being guided down the hall to your bedroom.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
You snuggle into the couch and crack open your paperback book.
Everything is in order. You have a glass of wine, a bowl of snacks, the tableside lamp on, and a cozy blanket. It’s late, but it’s officially the weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax.
“Reading out here?”
You glance up, and find Kyle in the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall. He’s shirtless. Without shoes. Just him, his freshly showered skin, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Kyle absently scratches at his chiseled stomach, head slightly tilted as he waits for your answer.
You can’t help but focus in on every line of muscle.
“Babe,” he prompts, laughing.
“Sorry?” you reply, blinking.
Kyle laughs again, the sound sweet. He strides forward, coming to a stop beside the sofa. He taps the side of his mouth. “Got some drool.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you giggle, checking with a quick wipe with the back of your hand.
Kyle’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it.
“Can I join you?” he asks, already lifting the blanket.
“You’re not going out with the boys?”
Kyle shakes his head. With one hand he lifts the blanket, and with the other he grabs your legs and lifts. He slides in, and drapes your legs over his lap before returning the blanket to drape over your body. Keeping one hand under the blanket, Kyle rests his hand on your inner thigh. It stirs heat in your core.
“Tomorrow,” he yawns. “Simon has a sick kid.”
“Bummer.”
Kyle shrugs, draping his over arm over the back of the couch. His hand on your thigh is a brand, and it’s only made worse when he starts massaging.
“Is it a spicy one?” asks Kyle, nodding toward your book.
Yes.
“Maybe,” you say slowly.
Kyle smirks, and then the book is out of your hand.
“Kyle!” You reach for it, but he twists, blocking your forward momentum.
He examines the pages in front of him. Heat rushes into your cheeks. As he reads, his eyes widen.
Kyle’s mouth drops open.
“What?” you prompt. You try to snag the book but he blocks you.
He glances at you. “Are you aware of where he’s putting that gun?”
“It’s fictional.”
“When you ask me to recreate things—”
“Kyle—”
“—is this what you’re talking about?” His gaze goes from you to the book and then to you again. “I’m down for a lot of things, love, but I’m not sure I’m down for that.”
Pushing off from the couch, you snatch the book out of Kyle’s hands. He surrenders it easily, a smile on his perfect face. The blanket is a crumbled mess beside him, but that’s not what you’re focused on.
The grey sweatpants have shifted, exposing more of the deep v of his pelvis. But it’s not just that. Kyle is hard. That is very clear.
He leans against the back of the couch, throwing both arms out to rest over the top. Flexing his hips, Kyle puts himself on display.
“I’ve got something else I can put inside you.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
A delighted shriek comes from the kitchen.
Johnny emerges, completely unbothered even with the two children in his arms. He has the oldest child, who just turned five, sideways and tucked under one arm. The boy has a wicked smile of his face even as he wiggles, trying to free himself from his father’s grasp. It’s fruitless.
The other child, a boy of three, keeps shrieking with delight even as Johnny lifts him into the air by his ankle. He is upside down, arms flailing, his brown hair hanging below him.
Johnny doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even break a sweat. He carries the two of them like it’s nothing.
He’s almost completely naked except for a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. They show off the deep v of his pelvis, and the dusting of dark hair that spreads over his chest and descends downward. You’ve touched that chest so many times. You know it as well as you know yourself.
Johnny’s gaze is on the television, watching the football match. The kids still shriek and playfully claw at him. But he remains unbothered.
Sitting there on the sofa, you consider that a third kid might not be so bad. You’d give him a small army if he asked.
Johnny glances away from the television, and when his gaze lands on you, it is entirely knowing. Heat curls in your belly, and his smile widens.
“Found these gremlins digging in the pantry,” he says, indicating the kids by hoisting the three-year old higher into the air and squeezing the other tighter against him.
Both kids giggle manically.
“After brushing their teeth.” Johnny tuts. “What’s to be done?”
Both children continue to giggle, not answering their father.
“Sounds like it’s time for bed,” you muse.
The children groan.
“But I’m not tired,” moans the five-year old.
“Too bad,” laughs Johnny. “Come on.”
He doesn’t put them down. He carries them like that all the way to their bedroom. Even from your spot on the sofa, you can hear their manic giggling. After a while, it quiets down, and Johnny emerges from the hall.
Instead of sitting down on the couch next to you, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television.
“Not interested in the game?” you ask.
“Nope. Want something else.”
His sultry smile tells you enough.
Slowly, he approaches, coming to a stop in front of you. He offers his hand, and you take it. With little effort, Johnny brings you to your feet, and hauls you close. Your free hand immediately rises, pressing against his chiseled stomach.
“What is it that you want?” you murmur, already knowing the answer.
His hardness presses against your belly, his voice going low and gravelly as he speaks. “I’d like to spend some time between those gorgeous thighs.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever I very well please.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
This is agony. A terrible joke.
Simon is right there. Sweaty. Shirtless. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.
He’s completely in the zone. Heavy metal blares through the stereo’s speakers, drowning out the sound of his gloved fists striking the punching bag. Morning light pours in from the open window, giving Simon an ethereal glow.
You watch from the doorway, chewing on your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him. Simon is all muscle, and not in a gym rat way. He is thick everywhere. You want to lick the sweat from his skin, to drop to your knees before him, and tug those grey sweatpants down.
You know what you’d find. And it sounds delicious.
But he is in the zone. And you won’t disturb him.
Pushing down the naughty thoughts, you start to turn away, to return to the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast.
The music abruptly cuts off.
“See something you like, love?”
Simon’s raspy voice draws you back to the room. With one hand on the doorframe, you meet his gaze, and promptly melt into the floor. He has a cocky grin on his face, and his shoulders heave slightly from exhaustion.
You lick your lips. “Always,” you reply, fingers digging into the wood.
Simon’s gaze scans you. You feel exposed, like he can see through your clothes. It’s knowing. Amused.
“What is it?” you prompt, staring just as hard as he is.
Simon removes one glove and then the other. He tosses them to the side, never taking his eyes off you.
“Come here,” he says.
You don’t move.
Simon arches a single eyebrow. Instead of repeating himself, he gestures with one finger, indicating that he wants you to come to him.
Heat rushes from your cheeks down to your toes. Slowly, you peel yourself away from the door, heading for him. Simon’s natural swagger is alluring, and those sweatpants sit so low.
Just one tug. That’s all it would take. And you’d be able to take him in your mouth.
As you approach, Simon reaches out, grabbing your waist, tugging you close to him. You instinctually hook your finger in the waistband of his grey sweatpants.
Simon smirks.
You inhale deeply, savoring the manly musk of him.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Not for breakfast,” you sigh.
“For something else then?”
You nod.
Simon leans in but doesn’t kiss you. He holds back slightly, lips curved into a hint of a smile. “Want to hear what I have in mind?”
“Yes,” you breathe.
Simon presses his thumb on your bottom lip. “I can fill that mouth.” His thumb drops away from your lips, and trails over your chin before brushing over your stomach. “And belly.”
His gaze stays on you. “What do you think of that, love?”
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#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 imagine#task force 141#task force 141 fanfic#task force 141 fic#task force 141 x female reader#task force 141 x you#task force 141 smut#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost riley fanfic#simon ghost riley#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john mactavish fanfiction#captain john price#john soap mactavish#john price#john price cod#soap call of duty#soap cod#soap mw2#soap mactavish#gaz smut#cw: suggestive#cw: smut#dad!141
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tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.
His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.
“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”
You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.
“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”
It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”
It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”
Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”
For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”
“I need to— You said I could go—”
“Just give me another minute, darling.”
His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.
“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#degrees of lewdity#dol#harper the doctor#dol harper#harper x reader#yandere harper#dol harper x reader#yandere drabble#yandere degrees of lewdity#degrees of lewdity imagines#yandere dol#dol imagines
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smoking out the window 🚬
i cant lie this fic is very self indulgent, but i had to share with y'all hehe <3 basically just smoking with logan, sitting in his lap, and yall end up gettin’ down and FREAKYYY.
pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader
warnings/tags: NSFW (minors DNI, 18+ only), smoking, pet names (bub, baby princess, etc.), old man!logan, boyfriend!logan, teasing, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, hair pulling, cumplay, cum swallowing, skull fucking
you’re seated criss-crossed in front of the fire escape, window cracked slightly ajar. you take a long inhale of your cigarette, letting the smoke sit in your mouth for a second before puffing out the rest through your nose.
your lips pull away from the filter, now tinted pink and slightly shiny from your lip gloss. you look over your shoulder to see logan let out a small chuckle, taking a drag from his cigar. you roll your eyes at him, tapping the end of your cigarette against the ashtray placed between you.
“yknow i already tried cigars… they’re just too big for me”. logan looks at you with a raised brow, a smug smile slowly creeping upon his face. you took a moment to process what you said, and how wrong it sounded out of context.
“hey! get your mind out of the gutter. you know what i mean,” you quipped, quickly taking a puff of your cigarette, playfully exhaling into his face to recant.
logan pays no mind to your games, simply shooing away the smoke with his free hand. “whatever you say bub…” he chuckles out, looking at you with a content smile.
he takes another hit from his cigar before sizing you up with his grim eyes. you were wearing a pair of sleep shorts, short enough to leave no room for imagination, with one of logan's flannels that you messily buttoned up this morning draping over your shoulders.
the domesticity of it all is what riled logan up. seeing you dressed up in his clothes, cuddled up in your small, but cozy, apartment bedroom, seated right in front of the fire exit. considering how hectic his life once was, nothing could compare to this.
“try it one more time, baby,” he requests, his pointer and middle finger signaling to come over to him. you rolled your eyes and reluctantly crawled your way over to him. he taps his lap with both hands, and you cozily fit into the thick embrace of his thighs.
you already know where this is going. he's done it once, and he'll do it again. you pursed your lips, your eyes quickly glancing over at his cigar, then promptly meeting his teasing gaze.
“c’mon, just about half of it is left. finish it with me, yeah?” he says with a sultry tone, tilting his head to the side.
“only cause you asked so nicely.” you replied, pressing your lips to the temple of his forehead, your left hand steadying yourself against his hips before you ruffle up his pointed tufts of hair with your right.
seating yourself back in his lap, you took the cigar from his hand, taking it in your own. you guide his calloused hand to the hem of your sleep shorts, his fingers finding purchase at the waistband, playfully tugging it back, allowing for them to snap back against your hips.
taking a deep puff, you let the smoke linger in your mouth as you would with your cigarette. the flavor was definitely more intense compared to the pack of reds you smoke daily. you immediately felt the buzz from the nicotine as the smoke coated your mouth in an almost oily film.
you're about to deeply inhale until you remember you're not supposed to actually inhale the smoke of the cigar. you catch yourself mid-breath, but you weren't fast enough to stop yourself. the bitter taste of the nicotine floods your throat, causing you to let out an unpleasant cough.
"careful there, princess", he teases you, his firm hand patting your back as you continued to cough. "don't wanna hurt yourself", he says chuckling to himself, finding your discomfort somewhat amusing.
you took a second to compose yourself, then joined in on logan's laughter. you pressed your forehead against his chest, snickering over how foolish you probably looked, choking on your own saliva.
"i told you s'too much!" you retort with a smile, nudging yourself deeper into his chest. you can smell the musk of his cologne mixed with the heady scent of smoke in the air; it was intoxicating how logan ran his fingers through your hair, his hands slowly finding their way to the small of your back.
you gently pull away from him, his arms wrapped around your waist, planting your hips against his, the flesh of your ass feeling his erection forming. a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips as you gently grind against him.
logan lets out a grunt as he feels the blood rush to his dick. peppering kisses along his neck, you slowly make your way up to his jawline. "baby, you're forgettin' something..." you lull, placing the cigar back between his lips.
you admire the way his muscles flex with every movement you make, almost syncopating to the rhythm of your hips. the way he matched your pace was addicting. "yknow..." you trail off, sliding yourself off of his lap, moving to kneel in front of him.
"cigars may be big for me... but there's something bigger that i can handle," you hum as you get on your knees, your figure now slotted between his bulky thighs.
placing your hands on his quads, your fingertips trace figure-eights against his jeans. you take a deep breath and rest your head on the inner of his thighs, your left hand working its way slowly to his crotch.
"you're so needy, bub" he whines out of the corner of his mouth, cigar still between his lips. his breath faltered as your fingers graze over the growing tent in his jeans.
"let me please you, lo. wanna make you feel good," you plead, your eyes looking up at him with an intense lust.
"f-fuck." he stutters as your fingers press harder against his erection "how can i say no to my baby?" he obliges, taking the cigar out of his mouth to light out on the ashtray.
you reach your hand out to grab his arm before he lights out his cigar, your grip on his bicep tightening as he gently tries to pull away from your grasp. "wait," you said hastily, "don't put it out yet".
he raises his eyebrow at your command, but doesn't push it any further. "got something planned, bub?" he asks, leaning back into the couch, manspreading wider.
you nod your head as you work at his belt nimbly, slithering the leather around and off of his waist, metal buckle of the belt clanking silently against the plush carpet that your knees rested on.
as you push his jeans and boxers down, his cock springs out, bouncing back against his stomach. his tip was already red, leaking with precum. you admire the length and girth of his dick as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock.
tracing a vein with your tongue, you move from the base of his cock to his tip. logan moved his hands to cup your face, fighting the urge to push himself down your throat as you continued to tease him slowly. "ah f-fuck," he winces, as you press a wet kiss to his tip.
"quit taking so damn long, princess," he adds, your hot breath tickling him. the lewd sight of his pre mixed with your saliva forming a strand from your bottom lip to his tip made your core pulsate. you pushed your thighs together to alleviate the aching pain you felt.
seductively licking your lips, your mouth finds its way back wrapped around his girthy cock. you slowly ease yourself all the way down him as the tip of your nose presses against his pelvis.
breathing through your nose, your lips make their way up his length, making sure to savor the way his tip rested against your tongue. tracing his slit carefully, you lick up his leaking precum, making sure not to miss a single drop of it.
"fuck yeah-", he hisses out, taking a hit. as he exhales the smoke, he grabs a fist full of your hair, now taking control of your movements. he thrusts into your mouth at a rapid and shallow pace, the slap of skin against skin filling the room.
his unrelenting pace made your pussy throb harder; the way he looked as he stood above you, manhandling you, using you, practically as a fucktoy, made you see stars.
eventually he slowed down his pace, his strokes becoming deeper, more sensual. "still with me, bub?" he asked, his eyes locked with your own as he continued to throatfuck you. "mmmh." you answered, with a fucked-out gaze.
"good," he hummed, loosening his grip on your hair. "gonna need you to be a good girl for me, princess." he gives the temple of your forehead a light kiss, his salt-and-pepper beard tickling your hairline.
a split second after the kiss, he retightens his fist, gripping more of your hair than before, and pushes you down the length of his shaft vigorously. the sudden gesture makes you wince around him.
unable to breathe through your mouth, you gag around him. the walls of your throat squeeze tightly along logan's length, making him wince out in pleasure. unable to control himself, he firmly plants his left hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place, as his right brings his cigar back to hips lips.
logan takes a long drag from the cigar, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, blowing away the smoke. "stay right there for me, bub... i know y'can do that for me, yeah?" he says with a smirk, keeping his eyes on you.
you grunt in response, breathing heavily through your nose to keep the little composure that you had. still gagging around his cock, your vision began to get blurry as tears began forming.
"shit, im coming-" logan groans out, harshly pumping his cock even further into your throat. with each thrust of his hips, a moan escaped from you, followed along with a gag. the mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating.
soon after his announcement, you feel the thick ropes of his cum sliding along your esophagus. the heady taste of his cum coats your mouth and lips; the salty and sweet tang grounded you from your mind blanking as he continued to skullfuck you.
it felt like an eternity before logan released you from his firm grasp. you slipped your lips off of him, now resting your head on his thigh. you cough a little bit, and your nose starts to drip.
"still think my dick's too big for you to handle?" he teases, tucking a stray strand of your bangs behind your ear. you shake your head no, flashing him a lazy smile. he brings the cigar to your lips for you to take a hit.
"atta girl."
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#wolverine x you#wolverine smut#deadpool 3#logan smut#drabble#one shot#smut#wolverine x oc#logan howlett x oc#wolverine headcanons#logan howlett headcannons#hugh jackman#logan wolverine
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I can’t help but stare…
-Bros the type of guy to think, no believe full heartedly that you’re the most ethereal being in the word admiring you whenever he has the chance to
Cw: kinda spicy? Idk..just neck kissing bro.
* There you were, leaning back against the frame of the double bed you usually slept on.
* Your attention was glued to your phone, occasionally chuckling at something amusing you found on your feed.
* However, you weren’t alone on that cozy mattress.
* Another figure was nestled beside you, seemingly in a deep sleep—or so you thought.
* Unbeknownst to you, the figure who appeared to be dozing was actually wide awake, quietly watching you.
* you felt a gentle shift in the bed as he propped himself up and rested his head on your shoulder.
* Initially taken aback at first, due to you expecting him to be asleep, you quickly brushed off the surprise, paying no mind to it.
* returning to your aimless scrolling through your phone, you felt a light kiss being pressed onto your shoulder.
* It’s not that you minded nor was it not unwelcomed.
* you just found yourself curious where this sudden affection was coming from..
* “You good babe? Thought you were tired..”
* You could feel a gentle buzz on your skin from the soft sound he made to agree.
* He was worn out, but still wanted to be with you.
* It was pretty cute..
* “You don’t have to stay up for my sake y’know?..”
* You sort of felt bad.
* He must have been stirred awake by the laughter you were letting out while watching those videos on your phone...
* You could feel him mumble softly into your skin
* “..jus wanna see your face..”
* You noticed him slightly raise his head from your shoulder as you turned to face him, feeling a bit flustered by his directness.
* You really wanted to believe it, but deep down, you knew he was only awake because you were being loud.
* Maybe it was just his drowsiness, but to him, you were the most stunning person he’d ever seen, like you were crafted by the gods…almost as if you were made just for him.
* In that moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive as the two of you simply gazed into each other's eyes.
* He chose to break the silence by gently placing his hand on your cheek and leaning in to give you a tender kiss.
* Jesus you tasted just as good as you looked..
* He craved more. yearned for more.
* More of this incredible feeling.
* More of your lips.
* More of you.
* He wanted you. And he needed you badly.
* His kiss grew even more intense as he gently guided his hand to the back of your head, holding you close.
* You instinctively responded, resting your hands on either side of his face.
* It was surprising how someone who’d apparently never been in a relationship before could be such an incredible kisser.
* The kiss lingered on until you both found yourselves breathless.
* He finally pulled back, soft breaths escaping his lips as your eyes met.
* “Sorry..I can’t help myself, you look so beautiful...”
* You couldn’t help the small flutter in you chest at his words.
* You hadn’t really done anything special for yourself that night, just your usual skincare routine, but there he was, looking at you like you were the most stunning thing on the planet.
* You felt your mouth go a bit dry, unsure of what to say, while your phone played a video in the background.
* He pulled you in for another kiss, but this time he laid you back flat, his arms framing your head.
* For someone who was meant to be exhausted, he certainly had an abundance of energy.
* His kisses began to wonder from your lips to your chin, then your jaw, and eventually down to your neck.
* He took his time, savouring every inch of your face, ensuring no part went unnoticed before leaning in close to your ear and planting a soft kiss on your earlobe, a small desperate whine leaving his mouth.
* “..please baby..I need you.”
* Who were you to deny him of his needs?
* I mean you made him like this..
* The things you do to this man.
Characters I had in mind while writing this:
REIGEN (mob psycho 100)
KUROKO, kagami, Akashi (kuroko’s basketball)
Rengoku, TENGEN, Giyuu (demon slayer)
KAGEYAMA, TANAKA, nishinoya, akaashi, BOKUTO, hajime, osamu, kita (haikyuu)
CHOSO, Yuji, MEGUMI, gojo (jujustu kaisen)
REINER (attack on titan)
DENJI (chainsaw man)
- any character you would like
#fluff#x reader#reigen x reader#kuroko x reader#kagami x reader#akashi x reader#rengoku x reader#tengen x reader#giyuu x reader#kageyama x reader#tanaka x reader#nishinoya x reader#akaashi x reader#bokuto x reader#hajime x reader#osamu x reader#kita x reader#choso x reader#yuji x reader#megumi x reader#gojo x reader#reiner x reader#denji x reader#nsfw?#smut#tengen smut#giyuu smut#kageyama smut#gojo smut#choso smut
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#. IT SUITS YOU . . . !
featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, takiishi chika togame jo, kaji ren, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, sakura haruka, endo yamato
fluff. he thought there was no other way to make him love you more until he saw you in his clothes.
UMEMIYA HAJIME
It was unbearably hot outside, so you and Umemiya decided to spend the day indoors, lounging on the couch and eating ice cream while watching some random show on Netflix. You thank the people who decided to create the air conditioning, and the ice cream felt heavenly against your tongue.
Halfway through the second episode, you managed to get a dollop of ice cream on your shirt. "Ugh, I'll be right back," you said, heading to the bedroom to change.
You rummaged through your drawers but couldn't find anything, then you stopped at a very interesting design as you grabbed one of Umemiya's shirts from the closet. It was soft and smelled like him, instantly making you feel cozy.
When you returned to the living room, you saw Umemiya's eyes widen and his jaw drop. In his shock, he accidentally let go of his ice cream, which fell to the ground with a splat.
"Ume, what was that for?" you asked, grabbing a wipe to clean up the mess.
It was strangely quiet, and when you looked up, you saw him staring at you with heart eyes, a blush spreading across his cheeks, and a huge, adoring smile on his face. His hand was clutching his chest dramatically.
"PUMPKIN, YOU ARE SO CUTE!" he screamed, fangirling, waving his imaginary tail like a little puppy. The sight was absolutely adorable. He started to pull off his own t-shirt, "PLEASE PUT THIS ONE!" You laughed and stopped him, "Another time, baby."
Days later, you were doing the laundry and noticed most of the clothes in the basket were Umemiya's. Little did you know, he had secretly left most of his shirts in your wardrobe during his sleepovers. But that was a secret, a sweet gesture of his love that you didn't need to know about.
TAKIISHI CHIKA
You woke up early on a lazy Sunday morning, the sun just beginning to filter through the curtains as you stroll into the kitchen, trying to find something to eat while dressed in your boyfriend's shirt that somehow became your pajama. The faint scent of his cologne that still lingers on was very comforting and calming, it made you more lovesick.
Takiishi, still half-asleep, shuffles into the kitchen, wondering why did you left. His hair is tousled and his eyes are still heavy with sleep, but when he sees you standing by the counter in his shirt ... he doesn't say anything per usual, as he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. It's his shirt, the one you brought, not Endo. His warmth envelops you, and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your back. Despite just waking up, he finds peace, feeling so comfortable that he can drift back to sleep.
"You'd make a good teddy bear," you tease gently, turning in his embrace to face him. His expression is as calm as ever, but you can't help but notice the small smile that he tried to hide. "My pillow disappeared," he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep. Well, of course, you are his personal pillow and blanket, but you didn't mind that at all.
With a groan, you realize you'll have to bring him back to bed. Gently, you guide him out of the kitchen, his arms still loosely around you playing with the shirt, as you lead him down the hallway. He leans on you heavily, his steps slow and relaxed, completely trusting you to guide him to where he can rest again.
As you reach the bedroom, he stirs slightly, murmuring a soft thank you against your neck. You can't help but smile at his sleepy self, carefully helping him settle into bed. He snuggles under the covers, pulling you close so you're curled up against his chest and he will always be close to you either with his arms around your body or with his shirt on you.
TOGAME JO
You really wanted to go to the store, and so you did, grabbing the first jacket you saw on your way out. It was a bit oversized, and you didn't think much about it. When you returned home, you were met with a scene of mild chaos. Your boyfriend, Togame Jo, had turned the house upside down.
"Jo, what are you doing?" you asked, taking off your shoes and looking at the scattered items.
"I can't find my Shishitoren jacke—" He paused mid-sentence, turning to look at you. There you were, standing in the doorway, wearing the very jacket he was searching for. A soft smile spread across his face. "It looks good on you, doll."
Realization dawned on you. You had grabbed his jacket by mistake. Well, you wouldn't lie—you did look pretty good in it. "I'm sorry, I'll take it off," you said, starting to remove it. Togame made a slow, dismissive gesture with his hand. "No, no. Keep it on."
"But don't you need it right now?" you asked, puzzled. "Won't Choji complain because—"
He cut you off with a teasing grin, "They already know who I am. Wear it so they know who that jacket belongs to."
Your heart fluttered at his words. Snuggling into the jacket, you smiled back at him, feeling a warm sense of belonging. Togame stepped closer, wrapping an arm around you.
"Besides," he whispered, "you make it look way better than I ever could."
KAJI REN
Kaji seemed to like hoodies, no he loved hoodies. And he especially loved when you wore them. The sight of you, cozy and snug in his oversized clothing, always made him somehow melt. But now, as he stood shivering at the bus stop, he started to regret his choice of giving you his favorite one. After all, it was cold, and you had forgotten to bring something warmer, leaving him only in his shirt.
"I'm sorry, Ren," you said softly, guilty as you glanced at him. Your boyfriend stood there, his arms wrapped around himself, his breath visible in the chilly air. The bus wouldn’t be here for another 30 minutes, and you could see he was freezing.
He wasn’t that mad, just a little bit, a tiny little bit. But he preferred you to be warm and safe, so when boyfriend duty called, he answered. With a small sigh, you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso, hoping the soft material of the hoodie would warm him up. His initial shiver softened as he felt your embrace, and he glanced down at you.
"Please don't be mad at me," you pleaded, looking up at him with those big, apologetic eyes.
"I am not," he replied, shaking his head. "Just next time, wear one of my hoodies or put something with sleeves," he sounded calm, well his other senses didn't work that well when freezing, as you hummed in response, pressing yourself closer to him as a way to share whatever warmth you could muster.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus arrived. As you both climbed aboard and found a seat. The heater was a blessing, and you leaned into Kaji, feeling him gradually warm up. He wasn’t mad, but you noticed the sniffles starting the next morning.
Now, as he lays on the couch, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by tissues, you felt even more guilty. Kaji has come down with a cold, and you are taking care of him. You brought him hot tea, fluffed his pillows, and made sure he had everything he needed.
"Ren, I'm so sorry," you said again, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. He looked up at you, his eyes a bit glassy but still filled with affection. And you knew that he would rather be sick than have you catch a cold.
SUO HAYATO
As you finish the final touches in front of the mirror, you can't help but feel a bit nervous. The smooth white silk of the changshan glides against your skin, as you admire how the elegant fabric hugs your form, the intricate patterns catching the light just so. Suo's appreciation for Chinese-styled fashion has always intrigued you, and today, you decided to surprise him by matching his style.
A quick glance at your phone reminds you that Suo is waiting outside, though he texted you saying he’d be there for a while, giving you more time to get ready. With a deep breath, you grab your bag and head out the door.
Stepping outside, you spot him immediately. Your boyfriend stands there, looking effortlessly handsome as always in his own changshan, and a smile playing on his lips. But as his eyes land on you, his expression shifts to one of pleasant surprise.
"Y/N?" he calls out, the amusement and admiration can be heard and seen as he takes a few steps closer, his gaze never leaving you. "Is that my changshan?"
You nod, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "I wanted to match with you today. Do you like it?" He chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Like it? You look amazing. But I must say, you pull it off better than I do."
"I just wanted to try it out. You always look so good in these, and I thought it might be fun." Suo reaches out, gently adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen out of place, his touch is warm, "Well, you certainly succeeded. But now I’m worried everyone will be looking at you instead of me."
You roll your eyes, knowing he's just teasing. "Oh, please. You know you always steal the spotlight." He grins, his hand holding yours as you start to walk together. "Maybe so, but today, you’re the star. I’m really happy you did this, Y/N. It means a lot."
The honesty in his voice makes your heart flutter. "I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you. And maybe… steal some of your fashion secrets."
Suo chuckles, squeezing your hand. "Anytime, Y/N. You know, we could make this a regular thing. Matching outfits and all."
You smile, the idea sounding more and more appealing, "So I will see you wearing Hello Kitty pajama's?" and as you think about how cute he will look in pink pjs while you apply a face mask and watch movies, it makes your heart melt, and he just laughs softly. "Who am I to deny you?"
KIRYU MITSUKI for my pookie @heartkaji
You’ve borrowed his shirt for the day, its soft fabric with vibrant pastel colors and shapes, a comforting reminder of him, paired with your pink skirt and cute Converse sneakers. The combination makes you feel especially adorable, and you notice the admiring glances from your boyfriend who undoubtedly thinks the same.
Kiryu’s been quiet, his phone in hand more than usual. You’ve caught glimpses of him smiling subtly at the screen, making you assume he’s checking something interesting. Perhaps a new game or a video that caught his eye.
You find a cozy bench and settle down together, your head finding its familiar spot on his shoulder. The day has been perfect, and you close your eyes for a moment, to get a rest from all the walking. When you open them, you notice his phone gallery is open, the screen filled with so many photos.
You tilted your head for a better look. The gallery is full of pictures of you—captured candidly throughout the day. These aren’t just any blurry photos; they look professionally taken, each one perfectly framed and lit. Your heart skips a beat as you realize Kiryu’s secret. Blushing, you nudge him playfully.
"Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looks at you with that calm, gentle cat like smile that always makes your heart melt. “I didn’t want your facial expression to be forced for the picture only.”
His words make your cheeks flush even more. You feel an overwhelming rush of affection for this boy who loves you so deeply, capturing your natural moments with such care. Leaning up, you press a soft kiss to his cheek.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
Kiryu’s smile widens just a bit, and he pulls you closer. “And you’re beautiful. Wear my clothes more often, they suit you.”
ENDO YAMATO
Endo often went shopping with you, spoiling you with many bags that would pile up during your hangouts. You appreciated his generosity, but sometimes, the sheer number of bags was overwhelming.
Today, home alone, you found yourself rifling through Endo's closet. You slipped into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his jeans, the latter needing a makeshift belt to stay up. To complete the look, you even drew some lines on your arms to replicate his intricate sleeve tattoos. Standing in front of the mirror, you struck a pose and imitated his voice, "I am Endo Yamato and I'm going to tell you some philosophy shit I don't understand myself." You couldn't help but giggle at your own 'cosplay'' if you can even call it one.
Unbeknownst to you, Endo had come home. He stepped into the room whistling, his phone held up and recording. You froze, eyes wide as you locked gazes with him. He was grinning ear to ear, clearly entertained, while you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you.
Before you could react, the makeshift belt gave way, and his jeans slipped down to the floor. Luckily, the oversized shirt and tank top you wore covered you just enough.
"You didn't see anything. Get out," you stammered, cheeks burning. Endo chuckled, the phone still capturing every moment. "Good impression, although, one note: you forgot to draw this tattoo," he said, pointing to a specific spot on his arm.
You grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. "I said get out!"
"Right, right," he replied, backing out of the room with a mischievous smile. "But don't beg me to delete the video; you were so cute."
You groaned, knowing you were in for a relentless teasing. "Endo, I swear, if you don't stop…"
But his laughter was already echoing through the hallway, leaving you to change and try to remove the tattoos you drew with a permanent marker. It can't get any worse than this, can it?
SAKURA HARUKA
The sky was clear when you and Sakura set out to run errands for Kotoha, but halfway through your way to the store, the heavens opened up, and a heavy rain began to pour. You dashed for cover, but it was too late. Your white blouse quickly became soaked, clinging to your skin, making you aware of how exposed you felt. With your hands crossed in front of your chest, you glanced over at Sakura.
He was blushing furiously, doing his best not to look directly at you. His eyes darted nervously, and then he shrugged off his jacket. Holding it out to you, he kept his head turned away, the redness creeping up his neck and ears to the tip of his fingers. "H-here," he stammered, his voice soft and gentle.
"Thank you," you said, taking the jacket from his trembling hands. You slipped it on, the warmth from his body still lingering in the fabric. Sakura's scent enveloped you, and you could see him stealing a few glances, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. It was clear he was trying hard to keep his composure.
You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Standing on your toes, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll return it tomorrow if it's not a problem."
Sakura.exe had officially stopped working. He stood frozen, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, unable to process what just happened. His cheeks were burning, not from the cold rain but from your touch. "Sure, keep it, yeah," he finally managed to say, his voice shaky.
You laughed softly at his reaction, making a mental note to treat him to something nice next time as a thank you. The rain stopped after not too long, but you were still with his jacket on, and he didn't mind at all. Sakura will probably make you run in the rain again, or do anything else, just to have an excuse to give you the jacket.
BONUS !
KOTOHA + TSUBAKI using he/him for tsubaki
Guess what time it is? It’s the casual Girl’s Night that occurs on most Fridays. Tonight, you, Kotoha, and Tsubaki are at Tsubaki's house for a sleepover, and the evening is already filled with gossip and laughter. The three of you sit on the living room floor, painting your nails in bright, fun colors while a horror movie plays in the background. You all giggle at the ridiculous actions of the main characters, the jump scares only adding to the fun.
Soon, the nail polish is drying, and you move on to your next activity: karaoke. The living room transforms into your stage as you each take turns singing loudly, the music echoing through the house. Your voices blend together in a chorus of joy, rockstars quite literally.
After the concert, it’s time for the fashion show. You rummage through Tsubaki's closet, matching your clothes with pieces from Kotoha's and Tsubaki's collections. With a dramatic flair, Tsubaki sets up the "runway" in the hallway, grabbing a flashlight to act as the spotlight.
"Lights, camera, action!" Tsubaki shouts, and you begin your strut down the hallway, feeling like a top model. Tsubaki's enthusiasm is infectious as he cheer, "You are so beautiful, Y/N-chan! I knew that skirt would suit you!"
Kotoha's eyes light up with admiration as she sees how her makeup looks on you. "You look stunning, Y/N," she says, her smile genuine and warm, clapping her hands.
The three of you take turns walking the runway, posing and twirling as you go. Tsubaki snaps photos, capturing every glamorous moment. Once satisfied, you all crowd around his phone, reviewing the photos and choosing the best ones to post on your socials.
Just as you hit "post," your phones buzz with notifications. The Bofurin group chat, which is 99% boys, suddenly goes crazy when Tsubaki sends a video of your model walk. Messages flood in, filled with surprised reactions and compliments.
"Is that Y/N?" Tsubaki reads Hiragi's message. "SO CUTE!" Umemiya added, and for some reason, Sakura sent a thumbs-up emoji, don't judge him, he is still learning to use a phone properly.
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
#✧* ꜝ wind breaker#wind breaker (satoru nii)#x reader#wind breaker#umemiya hajime x reader#umemiya x reader#sakura haruka x reader#wind breaker fluff#kaji ren#kaji ren x reader#kaji x reader#togame jo#togame x reader#togame jo x reader#endo x reader#endo yamato x reader#wind breaker x you#sakura x reader#bofurin#kiryu x reader#mitsuki kiryu x reader#suo x reader#takiishi x reader#takiishi chika#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker x reader
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List of “not-so-random suggestive and non-suggestive” prompts
“How was your sleep?” “Mm.. It was good. Better.” “Better how?” “Better because you’re here.” (THE WAY I GOT SO FLUSTERED WTF)
“That’s my girl/boy,” Character B murmurs in a hushed voice, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair while Character A rests their head on their chest, trying to catch their breath. (THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT INTERNALLY, THE AUDACITY HE AUDACITIED??? WHAT THE FUCK??? EXCUSEEEE MEEEEEE??? BTW, SIR, HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS IN THE MORNING-)
“Fuck, you turn me on so much with the noises you make,” Character B groans, thrusting their hips up into Character A’s and Character A whimpering softly at that. (Okay so I added the fuck at the start because it’s hotter this way bUTTTT WKGKSKFS PLSSSSS I JUST- OH MY GOD, I think I just realised that dialogue to me is SO IMPORTANT LMFAOOO)
“There are two hot things in this room right now: you, and the temperature.” (LET ME BREATHE, DAMNNNN)
“Mmm, I’m gonna hog the bed so you can’t get on,” Character A murmurs, laying sprawled out on the bed. “That’s fine, I can just lay on you,” Character B says, making their way to the bed. “…Are you calling me a bed?” Character A questions as Character B gets on top of them, careful not to crush them under their weight. “Yeah, you're my bed,” Character B murmurs, snuggling close to Character A. (FUCKCKKCKXKDKKSKGKAKD HE’S JUST OUT HERE FLIRTING TO THE MAX WITH ME AND LEAVING ME SPEECHLESS TF)
“I told you my bed’s cozy,” Character B says, chuckling as they make their way over to Character A, who’s snuggled up under the covers. They pull the cover back and climb into the bed next to Character A, wrapping their arms around them. “And now it’s even cozier,” Character B murmurs into Character A’s neck. “Because you’re here?” Character A questions playfully. “Yeah,” Character B answers.
A laughter filled tickling play fight session somehow turning into them making out, turning into Character A straddling Character B, head thrown back in pleasure as they grind their hips against Character B’s while Character B holds onto their hips, thrusts matching the momentum of Character A’s movements.
Spending way too much time tickling each other, peals of laughter coming from them both as they both try to attack each other’s sensitive spots. (His laughter is so cute AND I REALLY MISS HIM PLS WJDSK)
Morning cuddles and kisses as sunlight spills into the room.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good once we get there, yeah?” (MY HONEST REACTION WAS LITERALLY “???” I JUST?? WHAT?? SINCE WHEN WAS HE- AND HIM SWEARING? HOT HOT HOT HOT WKGKAKS)
Character A taking Character B’s hand into theirs while they’re driving. “You can drive with one hand, right?” they ask with a little grin, and Character B chuckles and nods. “Of course I can.” (HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND IS SO HOT BYE)
Character B guiding the speed of Character A’s hips as Character A grinds against them. (can he PLEASE manhandle me-)
“Okay, I’ll let you tickle me wherever you want if you give me one kiss.” (He lied a few times AHAHA, dodged my attacks instead after I gave him his kisses bruhhh)
Character B lending their clothes to Character A since Character A’s staying the night. (The way I smelled like him AHHHH)
The soft “yeah?” Character B would mutter in response when they’re messing around with Character A and noises would fall from Character A’s mouth, involuntarily.
Stopping their play fight every now and again to kiss each other.
Character B flirting with Character A and Character A not knowing how to respond other than half groaning and half laughing and calling them insufferable (affectionately). (Like I said, I’m romantically constipated-)
Character B laughing every time Character A calls them annoying and insufferable whenever they flirt with them.
Character A leaning in to kiss Character B… And then using that opportunity to tickle them when Character B’s guards are down.
Them just laughing with each other at the dumbest shit until they’re out of breath; finding comfort and joy in each other’s company.
Character A teasing Character B with how ticklish they are on certain spots.
Character B tugging at the hem of Character A’s top, wanting to take it off, but Character A shakes their head and Character B immediately respects that by backing off a bit. (I’m including this because I don’t think people understand that any signs of no means no. Some people need to take notes for real)
“So… Are you going to stay over tonight?” “…Mm, maybe next time.” “You always say next time, though.” (EWLKNFWELN He really wanted me to stay, and I clearly folded so um pwnfewklnf)
“I’m sorry if I’m like… Slow with all of this? I’m not experienced with any of this, and I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t think I’m ready for… You know.” “And that’s fine. Like I said, we’ll take it slow; we’ve got all the time in the world to get comfortable with each other, hm?” (WHEN I SAY I WAS GOING WEKJFNEWJKNEWFLN WHEN HE REASSURED ME, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AHHH)
Character B climbing back into bed after taking their morning shower to get more cuddles in with Character A before they have to go to work.
“You can just change in here if you want.” (WO4HKLWFN THIS FUCKING MAN LMFAOOO, the way I didn’t listen and went to the bathroom to change because I’m still feeling too embarrassed to change in front of him even though he’s kind of seen me topless before)
Hugging each other a little tighter, and Character A mumbling, “God, I really don’t want to leave” before they part ways.
“The way you keep running around in my mind everyday… How dare you?” Character A mumbles. “Well, is there a problem with that?” Character B questions with a chuckle. (I’m bold for this one, praise me LKNEFKLNWG)
The constant check ins from Character B, to make sure Character A’s all good and well. (every prompt list has this because it’s something I’ll always fucking harp on about lmao)
Character B grasping Character A’s wrists so they’d stop attacking their ticklish spots, pulling them in for a kiss instead. (He did this SO MANY TIMES AND FAILED SO MANY TIMES AHAHA, I’m a sneaky menace)
Character A pulling the Spiderman kiss on Character B while Character B’s lying down. (I WANNA KISS HIM MORE FUCKSLKFNES’F)
Character A waking up in Character B’s clothes and in their bed, hair all mussed up and sporting a faint mark on their neck. (I think I uh… I think I like having marks on my neck?? Made by him, specifically, IDK wpeofnew;nf)
Get home safe! Love you lots and lots, Character B texts Character A. (THE WAY I SMILED WHEN I SAW HIS TEXT WHILE HEADING TO THE STATION AHAHA, it wasn’t even ten minutes since we parted and he sent me this and I was fangirling about it to my friends AHAHA)
“Aren’t you going to get up now? You gotta get to work,” Character A says, poking Character B’s side. “Mmm, five more minutes,” Character B murmurs, pulling Character A closer to them. (HE’S SO CLINGY AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH AHDFOEKNF)
Character A realising they might actually be falling in love, slowly but surely, with Character B. (YEAH SO THIS IS A REVELATION AND A HALF AND IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT IT)
#long post#based on personal experience 😮💨#so sorry for all of the commentary HAHAH#and yes before you say anything i’m living the fanfic life for you all LESNFNLK#cat guy chronicles#writing prompts#prompts#dialogue prompts#writing scenarios#otp prompts#suggestive prompts#smut prompts#fluff prompts#non-suggestive prompts
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LOVE ACTUALLY ━━ wnba!paige bueckers x reader
𝜗𝜚 ━ summary: you and paige spend christmas together with your families.
𝜗𝜚 ━ word count: 5.5K
𝜗𝜚 ━ warnings: brief allusions to sex but really just pure fluff
𝜗𝜚 ━ links: my masterlist
𝜗𝜚 ━ author’s note: i wrote this when i was drunk out of my mind and i did not proofread so take that as you will. anyways merry christmas!
IT’S CHRISTMAS MORNING in Connecticut, the soft hush of snow outside only adding to the cozy warmth inside your childhood home. You and Paige flew in a couple days ago, grateful to spend the holiday surrounded by both of your families. Paige’s dad and her little brother, Drew, made the trip from Maryland, too, making it all the more homier.
The last year and a half has been a whirlwind. Moving across the country to Dallas was one of the hardest decisions you’ve ever made—graduating from UConn and then immediately leaving behind your friends, family, and everything familiar to follow Paige as she chased her WNBA dreams. At the time, you weren’t sure if it was the right choice. But now, as you think about the life you’ve built together, you know it was worth every bit of uncertainty. You’ve got a great job, a cozy little apartment in Dalls, and Paige has already had two incredible seasons in the W. She’s thriving, and so are you, and being here now, with your families under one roof, feels like the perfect reminder of how far you’ve both come.
The two of you are curled up in your childhood bedroom, the soft hints of morning light glinting against the light pink walls. Paige’s bare skin is against yours, her arm draped possessively over your waist, her hand resting firmly on your hip. Your cheek is pressed against her shoulder, and you can feel her slow, steady breaths as they rise and fall beneath you. Everything about this moment feels so peaceful, so perfect, that you can’t help but linger in it.
Paige shifts slightly beneath you, and her fingers tighten their hold, pulling you closer. You tilt your head up to find her already looking down at you, blue eyes still heavy with sleep but soft with that familiar adoration that always makes your chest tighten. Her lips curve into a small, sleepy smile.
“Merry Christmas,” she murmurs, her voice husky and warm, roughened by sleep in a way that sends a shiver through you.
You smile back at her, your lips brushing the skin of her shoulder as you reply, “Merry Christmas.”
She leans down to kiss you, and it’s slow and unhurried, a perfect reflection of the way the two of you are easing into the morning. Her lips are soft against yours, her hand moving from your hip to your ass, squeezing gently as she deepens the kiss. Your body reacts instinctively, shifting closer, and Paige takes the opportunity to guide you over her, her hands steady on your waist as she pulls you to straddle her.
Her hands roam lazily over you, mapping the familiar terrain of your body as if she’s memorizing it all over again. The feel of her palms on your bare skin sends warmth pooling in your stomach, and your breath bitches when her fingers trail power, brushing against your inner thigh.
It’s enough to send your mind flashing back to last night, when Paige had you biting into your pillow to keep quiet, fucking you in a way that was far from appropriate with both of your families in the house, in the rooms just next door. It was reckless, but neither of you cared much in the moment. And judging by the way her fingers swipe teasingly at your clit now, she’s not feeling particularly concerned this morning, either.
A gasp escapes your lips, and Paige smiles against your mouth, her tongue sweeping in to claim yours in a kiss that’s deeper and more demanding. Just as her fingers begin to circle your clit lightly, the door knob rattles sharply, accompanied by Drew’s unmistakable voice.
“Why is the door locked? Wake up! We’re opening presents!”
The two of you freeze, and then Paige groans in frustration, pulling away reluctantly. She tilts her head back against the pillows, her hand coming up to drag across her face as she yells back, “We’re comin’! Go downstairs, we’ll be down in a sec!”
There’s a pause, then the sound of Drew retreating down the hall. Paige drops her head back to look at you, her expression equal parts annoyed and amused. “Always interrupting,” she mutters, leaning in to steal another slow, languid kiss.
You smile against her lips, your hand coming up to brush her hair back from her face. “We gotta get up,” you say softly, though you make no effort to move just yet.
She sighs, her arms wrapping around you to pull you closer for a moment longer. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, her lips brushing the corner of your mouth.
Eventually, the two of you untangle yourselves, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed to retrieve the matching Christmas pajamas Paige insisted on buying. Hers are just slightly too big, the waistband of the red plaid pants hanging low on her hips as she pulls on the soft cotton shirt. She tosses you your pair, watching with a lazy grin as you shimmy into them.
By the time you’re both dressed, Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close for one last kiss before heading downstairs. When you get down there, the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of Christmas music fills the air. Your families are gathered around the tree, Bob offering you both a warm smile, your parents calling you cheerful “Merry Christmases” from the couch.
Drew has taken his role as gift sorter very seriously, picking up each package, reading the tags with exaggerated importance, and then delivering them to their respective piles like he’s Santa himself. You and Paige sit side by side on the floor, leaning into each other, your thighs pressing together as you watch. Her hand rests on top of yours, brushing her thumb over your knuckles, and it makes your heart swell.
Your older brother lounges beside you, watching Drew in amusement. His grin slowly shifts into something cheeky, though, as his gaze lands on you and Paige. He leans closer, lowering his voice. “Late night?” he asks, eyes glinting with mischief as they flick to the faint circles under your eyes.
Your cheeks flame instantly, and you seat at him, whispering sharply, “Shut up!”
He laughs, lea no no away just in time to avoid your second hit. “Hey, just sayin’,” he teases, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You both look a little… tired.”
Paige smirks beside you, clearly trying not to laugh, but you nudge her with your elbow, giving her a pointed look. She quickly schools her expression, though the amusement in her eyes is impossible to miss.
Your head snaps toward the couch, where your parents and Bob are chatting, thankfully oblivious to the exchange. You exhale in relief, shooting your brother a glare that promises retribution later.
Eventually, Drew claps his hands together dramatically. “Done!” he declares, plopping down onto the floor next to his own gut pile.
Your mom beams. “Stockings first!” she says, already reaching for her phone to start taking pictures.
Everyone does as she says, reaching for their stockings. You sift through yours, pulling out chocolates, fuzzy socks, and a cute little keychain your mom must have picked out. Paige grins as she pulls out a gift card, showing it to you like it’s a trophy. Drew’s stocking is filled with candy, which he immediately starts eating, and your dad jokes about how he gets socks every year without fail.
Your mom takes picture after picture and you roll your eyes in amusement as she pointedly tells you to smile wider for the photos.
Once the stockings are emptied, it’s time for the real gifts. The family settles into a rhythm, taking turns opening gifts. You and your brother exchange gag gifts that leave you both laughing, shaking your heads. When it’s Drew’s turn, you can’t help but feel smug as he opens your gift—a limited-edition jersey—and immediately declares it his favorite, much to Paige’s offense. She pouts dramatically, muttering, “I tried so hard,” which only makes you grin wider at her.
Her moment of redemption comes soon enough, though. Paige’s gift to your mom—one of those electronic picture frames that flashes different photos of your family—earns a gasp of delight. Your mom’s eyes shine as she hugs it to her chest, turning to Paige with a heartfelt, “Oh my gosh, Paige, sweetie!” She leans down to kiss Paige’s head, and you catch the faint blush on Paige’s cheeks. Your heart swells as you watch her fit so seamlessly into your family.
When Paige opens your first gift to her, you watch nervously as she opens the shoes she’s been eyeing for weeks. “Babe,” she groans, clearly thrilled but half-scolding you for indulging her obsession. You roll your eyes, telling her she deserves them, even if they barely have room in your already shoe-filled apartment.
Her second present from you is a new pair of Airpods, which were more of a last minute thing since she lost her pair on the flight here. She thanks you, knowing she needed them.
The last gift is the one you were just excited to give: a framed collection of her college jersey behind a collage of photos from her UConn career, the biggest one being of her holding up the natty trophy. There’s a handwritten note in the back of it, telling you how proud you are of her. You can’t take all the credit for it, though, as Nika helped you with a lot of it when she was visiting you and Paige in Dallas a few weeks ago. Paige’s eyes mist over as she stares at it, and she leans over to press a firm kiss to your temple, whispering how much she loves you in your ear.
Paige’s gifts to you are just as thoughtful. She starts with handing you a small box. You open it and gasp—they’re a pair of diamond earrings—actually, the pair of diamond earrings—you’d fawned over at some event you attended with Paige, where there had been a ton of different jewelry displays. “Shit,” you murmur, fingers ghosting over the diamonds. You’d seen the price tag on it, you know how expensive they were. You lean your head on Paige’s shoulder, saying, “Thank you, P.”
She grins before handing you your next one—a weekend getaway to a cabin in the Pacific Northwest. You’ve talked about wanting to go so many times, jokingly telling her you want to live out your Twilight dreams, and now here you are.
“Paige,” you whisper, staring at the printout of the reservation.
“You’ve been stressed,” she says simply, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You deserve this.”
The room falls quiet as you hug Paige tightly, everyone sifting through their opened gifts, satisfied. You think all the gifs have been opened, so you settle back, too, but then Paige’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Wait,” she says, her smile lighting up her face. “You’ve got one more.”
You narrow your eyes at her, exasperated. “Paige,” you groan, knowing she’s already gone overboard.
“Chill,” she laughs, waving off your protest. She gestures toward your brother. “Come help me.”
Confused, you watch as your brother jumps up eagerly, everyone else around the room exchanging knowing, excited smiles. You start to stand, too, but Paige shakes her head, her grin widening. “Stay here,” she tells you. “Be patient, babe.”
You sit back down, bewildered, as Paige and your brother disappear into the basement. Everyone else seems to be in on whatever this is, and you try to piece together the surprise, but you’re left empty-handed.
A few minutes pass before your brother and Paige finally emerge back from the basement. You immediately notice Cooper, your family’s golden retriever, darting ahead of them. His nails click against the hardwood floor as he bursts into the living room, tail wagging so hard it looks like it might propel him into the air. He’s a whirlwind of energy, bounding straight for Drew, who’s still sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper. Drew laughs, trying to push Cooper’s snout away as he eagerly licks at his face. The dog is clearly thrilled to finally be apart of the action after being booted to the basement during gifts because he was too hyper.
Your focus shifts back to Paige, who’s holding a large box in her arms. She’s being careful with it, her steps deliberate as she sets it down in the middle of the floor, a few feet away from you. The grin on her face is impossible to miss—it’s a mixture of pride, excitement, and something that feels almost mischievous.
Your eyes narrow immediately. “What is it?” you ask, suspicious.
“You see,” Paige replies, her tone teasing as she kneels beside the box. Her hands rest on the top of it, and she’s clearly holding back a laugh at the confusion on your face.
Your gaze darts to your brother, who’s leaning casually against the couch with a smirk. You turn back to your girlfriend, your suspicion growing. “Paige,” you say, dragging her name out. “If this is a prank…”
Paige gasps in mock offense, her blue eyes wide. “A prank? On Christmas? Would I do that to you?”
“Yes,” you deadpan, which earns a round of laughter from your family.
“Just open it,” Paige says, brushing off your sarcasm with a grin and a roll of your eyes.
You hesitate, shifting on the floor as you inch closer to the box. Something about it feels… odd. It’s big, but not heavy enough to be something truly large. And when you look closer, you think you see it move. Your breath catches, and you tilt your head, trying to hear.
You think you catch a noise.
Your heart starts to race as you reach for the kid, glancing at Paige one more time. “I swear to God,” you say, eyeing her.
“Just trust me!” she says, laughing now. Her eyes gleam, and her grin is so wide.
You lift off the lid, and for a second, you just stare.
Then, your entire face lights up.
“Wait, oh my God!” you exclaim, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Inside the box is a tiny golden retriever puppy, his fur soft and fluffy, his bright eyes blinking up at you curiously. He has a red bow tied snugly around his neck, and he’s pawing at the edge of the box, already eager to escape.
You don’t hesitate—you reach in and scoop him up, cradling him in your arms as he wriggles excitedly. He’s warm and small, his paws pressing against your chest as he stretches up to lick your face. His little tail wags furiously, and you can’t stop laughing as he covers you in emphatic kisses.
“Paige!” you gasp, still laughing as the puppy snuggles into your neck. “Oh my God! Are you serious?”
“Surprise,” she says, her grin impossibly wide. She looks proud, and there’s a soft warmth in her gaze as she watches you hold the puppy like he’s the most precious thing in the world.
“I can’t—I—” you stutter, voice cracking slightly. Tears well up in your eyes as you hold the puppy close, his little head resting against your shoulder. “You really got us a puppy?”
Paige nods, sitting back on her heels. “I know how much you been wantin’ one,” she says softly. “So… he’s ours now.”
You blink back tears, your heart full as you look down at the tiny ball of fur in your arms. He lets out a soft tip and nuzzles closer to you, and you can’t stop smiling. “What’s his name?” you ask.
“Maverick,” Paige replies. “But I’ve been calling him Mav.”
“Maverick,” you repeat, testing it. It feels perfect, like it was meant for him.
You look back at Paige, your eyes shining. “When did you have time to do this?”
“They helped me,” Paige explains, gesturing to your mom and brother. “The day we got here, we went to pick him out while you went last-minute shopping. He’s been in the basement ever since, hanging out with Cooper and our brothers.”
Your mom smiles warmly from her spot on the couch. “It was all P’s idea,” she says. “She was so excited about it—she couldn’t stop talking about how much you’d love him.”
Your heart swells as you look at Paige, who’s trying to act nonchalant but is clearly basking in the praise. You lean over, the puppy still nestled in your arms, and press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” you whisper.
Paige smirks, though there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I know,” she says playfully, earning a soft hit to her arm from you.
The rest of the morning is a blur of excitement. Maverick becomes the center of attention immediately, with everyone wanting to hold him or pet him. Even Cooper seems thrilled about the new addition, sniffling bum curiously and then wagging his tail like he’s just made a new best friend.
But no matter how much everyone else tries to steal Mav’s attention, he keeps coming back to you and Paige. Like he belongs there. Which, you suppose, he does now.
THE SNOW FALLS steadily, blanketing the night in a soft, shimmering layer of white. The world feels hushed, as though the snow has pressed pause on everything else, leaving just you, Paige, and Maverick in your one little bubble. Your boots crunch against the snow-covered sidewalk as you tuck yourself closer into Paige’s side, desperate for any warmth you can find against the freezing cold. The icy air nips at your nose and cheeks, and your breath puffs out in visible clouds.
“I cannot believe you dragged me out here,” you grumble, your teeth chattering as another gust of wind cuts through your coat. “It’s Christmas night. It’s freezing. Who does this?”
Paige just grins, looking entirely unbothered by the cold. “You’ve lived here your whole life,” she teases, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she gives you a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Suck it up. You’re supposed to be used to this.”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve gotten used to the Dallas heat,” you retort, because you have. Grumbling again, you burrow yourself deeper into your scarf.
Paige just laughs, reaching down to adjust Maverick’s leash as he bounds happily ahead of you, his tiny paws kicking up little sprays of snow. His golden coat gleams under the soft glow of the streetlights, and his tail wags furiously as he sniffs at the snowbanks on either end of the sidewalk.
“Look at him,” Paige says, gesturing to the puppy with a grin. “Look how happy he is. How could you not wanna be out here with him?”
You glance down at Mav, who’s clearly having the time of his life. You sigh, conceding the point. “Fine,” you mumble, pulling your coat tighter around you as you watch him hop through the snow like it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced.
The three of you continue down the street, the cold biting at your exposed skin, until you reach the town square just a block down from your house. It’s quiet and empty, just as you’d expected, but it’s so beautiful and familiar that you can’t bring yourself to complain anymore.
The little shops lining the square are all decorating for the holidays, their windows glowing warmly against the night. Twinkling lights are strung from lamppost to lamppost, and garlands of evergreen and red ribbon add a festive touch to the storefronts. The snow falls steadily, coating everything in a pristine layer of white, and for a moment, you feel like you’ve stepped into a scene from a Hallmark movie.
You glance over at Paige, and the sight of her bundled up in her coat and beanie, snowflakes caught in her golden hair, makes your heart squeeze. She looks over at you and grins, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.
“Worth it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
You huff, but you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Maybe.”
She smirks, clearly pleased with herself, and gives Maverick’s leash a gentle tug to redirect him as he tries to nose his way into yet another snowbank. The three of you wander through the square until you reach the massive Christmas tree in the center. It’s a towering evergreen, wrapped in thousands of white and gold lights that cast a warm, inviting glow over the snow.
Paige slows to a stop near the tree, and you glance over at her, your breath catching slightly at the look on her face. She’s smiling softly, but there’s an unfamiliar nervousness—almost vulnerability—that overcasts her expression, making your heart stutter.
“What?” you ask softly as you tilt your head at her.
She steps closer, her gloved pinky brushing against yours before hooking around it gently. “This is where we first met,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost hesitant. “Remember?”
Of course you remember. How could you ever forget?
It had been five years ago, during one of those rare weekends when you’d been home from school in December. You’d been wandering the square with a fresh hot chocolate in hand, trying to find a Christmas gift for your mom. The snow had been falling just like it is now, and you’d been heading to the little jewelry shop on the corner when someone had barreled straight into your chest, spilling your drink all over you—and them.
That someone had been Paige.
You’d recognized her immediately, of course. Every student at UConn knew who she was—Paige Bueckers, the basketball sensation, the phenom. You were a freshman, she a sophomore, and you’d yet to see her on campus your entire first semester. But there you were then, seeing her in person for the first time, in—of all places—your coastal little hometown. It was the last thing you’d ever expected.
She’d been mortified, stumbling over herself as she apologizes and offered to buy you a new hot chocolate. You’d tried to brush it off, but she’d insisted, dragging you back to the little café to get a replacement. The two of you ended up talking while you waited for it, and when she found out you went to UConn, her eyes had lit up.
Somehow—still to this day, you’re not entirely sure how—she’d managed to get your number before you left. The next week, you’d hung out on campus for the first time. And from there, it had been history.
Now, five years later, you’re standing in the exact same spot, under the glow of the exact same Christmas tree, with the snow falling around you just like it had that day.
Your chest feels tight as you look at her, taking in the way the snowflakes catch in her hair, the way her blue eyes shine against the cold. She’s so beautiful it almost hurts.
“Of course I remember,” you whisper, your breath fogging up in the cold air.
You watch as Paige takes a little breath, her chest rising and falling as she glances down at the snow-covered ground. Her lips part, but no words come out right away. Her hands fidget slightly with Maverick’s leash, and the Paige Bueckers standing before you—this soft, nervous version of her—is such a stark contrast to the confident and often-times annoying girl you’re so used to seeing.
You tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, voice barely audible over the soft crunch of Mav’s paws in the snow.
But she shakes her head, glancing back at you with what might just be the softest smile you’ve ever seen. It’s disarming, and your breath catches in your throat a little at it. “I have another gift for you,” she murmurs.
You blink at her. “Paige, no,” you protest immediately, a small huff escaping your lips. She’s already gotten you more than enough—between the thoughtful, expensive presents she gave you earlier and the effort she’s put into making this Christmas perfect, you feel spoiled.
But Paige just shakes her head again, her smile widening just slightly as she takes a step closer, reaching for your gloved hands. You don’t resist as she pulls them out of your pockets and wraps her own around them, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric. Maverick’s leash rests between both of your palms, the two of you holding him together.
“Stop,” she says softly, her voice almost teasing but laced with something deeper. “It’s fine. It’s just—this one’s a little… different than the others, ‘kay?”
Your brows furrow a little, still confused. There’s something in her expression—something hesitant and vulnerable, almost like she’s unsure of herself—and it makes your chest stumble. Slowly, you step closer, your eyes boring into hers as you whisper, “P, I don’t know what more you can give me. You’ve already given me everything.”
She lets out a breath at that, exhaling slowly. “Not everything,” she murmurs, eyes downcast.
You tilt your head in question, half-lost. “What d’you mean?”
Paige takes another deep breath, her hands tightening around yours just slightly. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, and you can see her trying to gather her thoughts, her blue eyes darting away from yours and then back again.
“Okay, um…” she starts, her voice faltering a little before she lets out a nervous laugh. “I—I don’t really know how to say this, because I’ve been thinkin’ about this for so long, had it all prepared, but now that we’re actually here, it’s—it’s all just kinda gone away…”
Your heart is pounding now, your stomach twisting in anticipation. Paige is rarely like this—stuttering, stumbling over her words—and the fact that she is has you hanging on her every syllable.
She shifts her weight, glancing down at the snow-covered ground for a moment before looking back up at you. Her cheeks are even more pink than before, whether that be from the cold or nerves, and the look in her gaze makes your throat tighten.
“I love you,” she says finally, her voice steady now despite the nervous energy radiating off of her. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I can’t—I can’t even imagine a version of my life where you’re not in it. You’re—you’re my best friend, my person, my everything. And every time I think about the future, it’s you, always you. Every single time.”
Your breath catches, and you think your eyes begin to swim, though you’re not even entirely sure why yet. You squeeze her hands lightly, trying to reassure her even though you’re the one suddenly feeling overwhelmed.
“I want to do this forever with you,” Paige continues, her voice growing softer with each word. “I want every Christmas with you, every family gathering, every walk with Mav. I want you to be there for all my big moments, and I want to be there for all of yours. I just—I want you. Forever. And I don’t wanna wait anymore to tell you that.”
She lets go of one of your hands then, reaching into the pocket of her coat. For a second, you’re confused, your heart hammering in your chest as you watch her movements, and then—
Oh.
Oh.
Time seems to stop as Paige pulls a small, velvet box from her pocket and drops to one knee in the snow. Your eyes widen, your breath freezing in your chest as you stare down at her, completely locked in place.
She flips the box open, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. It’s simple yet stunning, a perfect match for you in every way, and the sight of it sends a rush of emotions flooding through you.
“Baby,” Paige says, her voice trembling slightly as she looks up at you with the most earnest expression you’ve ever seen. “Will you marry me?”
Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure she can hear it, and your eyes are completely flooded now.
Paige stays kneeling there, her gaze locked on yours, and she looks so hopeful, so full of love, that it takes your breath away. The world around you seems to blur, the snow falling softly around you and the glow of the Christmas tree lighting up the moment like something almost out of a dream.
You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything but stare at her as the weight of what’s happening finally settles over you. Paige Bueckers—the girl who spilled hot chocolate on you five years ago, who turned your entire world upside down without even trying—is asking you to spend the rest of your life with her.
The words catch in your throat, tangled between a sob and a laugh, as you finally come to your senses. Your lips tremble, your heart racing faster than ever, and then it all bursts out at once. “Yes,” you choke, voice breaking. “Fuck, yes. Of course, baby.”
Paige lets out something between a laugh and a sob of her own, her grin so wide it’s almost silly. Her eyes are glistening with tears, matching yours, and for a moment, you’re both just staring at each other like you can’t quite believe this is real.
And then you move.
Instead of waiting for her to stand, you drop down into the snow with her, no longer caring about the cold or the fact that your pants are already damp. Your hands find her face as you crash your lips into hers, kissing her so deeply, so passionately, that it feels like your chest might explode from everything you’re feeling.
Her hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer as the snow falls softly around you, your noses brushes and your tears mingling between the kiss. It’s emotional and raw and maybe the most meaningful kiss you’ve ever shared, the kind that feels like a promise all on its own.
When you finally pull back, breathless and overwhelmed, Paige presses her forehead against yours. Her eyes shine cerulean, her cheeks streaked with tears, but she’s smiling like she’s never been happier in her life. She presses one, two, three quick pecks to your lips, her grin only widening with each one.
You laugh softly, your heart still racing, and then she’s reaching for your left hand, gently tugging your glove off. Her fingers tremble slightly as she takes the ring from its box, sliding it onto your finger with the utmost care.
It fits perfectly.
Paige leans down, brushing her lips against the ring on your finger like it’s the most sacred thing she’s ever touched. “Perfect,” she murmurs, her voice soft and full of awe.
And then, suddenly, Maverick bounds into the moment, pouncing between you and Paige with all the enthusiasm of a puppy who has no idea what’s just happened but is thrilled to be a part of it. His nose nudges your hand, and you both laugh as his tongue flicks out, licking the shiny new ring before jumping up to cover Paige’s face in kisses, too.
“Okay, okay!” Paige laughs, trying to fend him off but not really putting much effort into it. You giggle, reaching out to scratch behind his ears before pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
Paige skips her arm around your neck, tugging you close again. Her voice is soft but teasing as she murmurs, “Now I can finally call you my wife, and no one can complain ‘bout it.”
You roll your eyes, though your smile betrays how giddy you feel. “Still not your wife,” you correct, holding up your hand to show off the ring. “Fiancée.”
Paige just shakes her head stubbornly, her nose brushing against yours as she whispers, “Nah. Wife.”
And then she’s kissing you again, her lips warm against yours despite the chill in the air. Mav paws at both of you, trying to squeeze himself into the moment like he doesn’t want to be let out, and you laugh against Paige’s lips, your heart so full it might burst.
Because there, in the snow, at the very spot where you first met five years ago, the world feels impossibly small and endlessly vast all at once. This is a new beginning—the two of you, Maverick, and the life you’re going to build together. It’s the start of your family, the start of everything that comes next, and as Paige kisses you again, with snowflakes catching in her lashes and Mav pawing at your side, you realize with a sneaky feeling that love actually is—all around.
#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige bueckers fic#uconn huskies#wcbb#uconn#wbb#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers fluff#wcbb x reader#wnba#wnba x reader#wlw#lgbtq#christmas fic
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I need a part 2 to ‘meddle about’😩 I loveee your writing
i was literally about to go sleep rn but made a conscious decision to ignore the needs of my body to write horny filth <3
☆ into you!
part 02 to meddle about! // in which the younger itoshi loses all inhibitions. //
synopsis: who knew being involved with itoshi rin would be such a headache? now, about 10,000 km away from home, you realize that you're stuck with him in barcelona. as distances between you two grow greater, the only thing that brings you closer is an... aphrodisiac?! pairing: afab!reader x itoshi rin [aged up.] wc: 5.5k cw: NOT PROOFREAD. WRITTEN CAUSE I LOVE DESPERATE MEN. MDNI. includes: A LOTTT OF PLOTTT!! dom-ish!reader x bottom!rin. one-room only trope (hehehehehhe), aphrodisiac, guided handjob, praise (m!receiving), overstimulation (m!receiving), rin cries so, i guess dacryphilia(?). they're both gonna piss you off and you're gonna love it. guess starring: rin's COMMUNICATION ISSUES 🗣️🔊 m.list
it took you exactly 45 mins sitting next to rin itoshi in a closed-off airplane to decide that either he was the dumbest man alive or he needed a guided lesson to understand social cues. or maybe, just maybe, he was such an entitled prick that he could just simply ignore a fuming woman next to him for forty-five minutes straight without as much as a worry-line on his pristine forehead.
you had huffed and huffed, and then huffed some more by the time rin finally asked you a question. the question? "are you cold or something?"
"no?" your eyebrows bunched at his question. could he not see the blanket you had draped over your lap as you had cozied in the seat he had paid for?
"then why are you making so much noise?"
"oh?" you scoffed, "if it is this hard to be seated next to me, then please get off on the next layover and catch a flight back home."
his answer came before you could even finish, "no, i'm good."
and then again, the cycle of silence repeated itself by dragging itself along it's sickening pattern. rin flipped through a magazine, locked in as if there was nothing more enticing to him than the history of airplanes and their mechanism, all while you fumed in your seat.
it's not like you wanted to talk to rin itoshi or something!
it's just the principle of the situation that pissed you off beyond belief! here you two were, sitting next to each-other in a metal contraception that was hovering several hundred feet above ground to land you in another continent — a process that was going to take several hours. there was absolute silence — most people dozing off, reading or watching a movie by themselves while enjoying the finer things in life like champagne and caviar.
if there was any place in earth to sort out miscommunications, then this was probably the top of that list! and yet, that raven-haired man lost himself in the world of airplane mechanics. like, what even?!
again, it's not like you wanted rin itoshi to apologize to you or something!
it's just shouldn't he atleast bother after trying so hard that day? i mean, it's not like you missed the way his hands felt or the expensive, well-curated fragrance of his car whenever he picked you up or dropped you, or whatever lopsided, half-baked smile he gave you every once in a while. no, it was the principle of the situation that was bothering you!
you sighed and rin gave you a side-eye without even turning an inch to face you. he cleared his throat, another question at the tip of his stupid — albeit, very skilled — tongue, "do you want to drink?"
"no." you spit out, almost impressed at how good he was at being wrong, "obviously not." actually, right now, with a headache next to you, some wine sounded delightful. "actually— i mean, wine sounds nice."
rin pushed the button to call the airstaff and you let go of any of your restraints. you turned towards him, body leaning into his physical space as if you needed to examine him up-close for brain damage, "do you really not know what's bothering me?"
"no." rin admitted seriously and your eyebrows furrowed at how sincere he sounded. you repeated, "you don't?"
he shrugged and you found yourself muttering, "seriously? you don't?"
"no," he turned his face to look at you and deadpanned, "either tell me what's wrong or shut up and go to sleep."
the audacity! here you were trying to communicate with him while he thought you should 'go to sleep'??? he should go to hell!
"fine." you clenched you jaw, turning around to wait for your wine in peace. under your breath, you muttered, "sae would probably never act like this."
"what was that?"
you turned to the pro-player, eyes narrowed and tongue venomous, "i cannot wait to see sae play in real life."
"thanks to me, yes." rin shrugged, "and his play isn't that impressive. the media just happens to make any lukewarm bullshit look good on tele."
"th-thanks to you?!" you spluttered, still not moving on from the first half of his statement, "i'm sorry but did i not refuse to come and you begged me—"
"—beg is a strong word."
"you begged me to come, rin itoshi." you bit back and rin turned to you with his own eyes narrowed, "i didn't beg you, i just didn't want you to think i took advantage of you."
"you literally, literally left me laying on the couch while you ran off to the bathroom for god-knows-what reasons!" you ranted, leaning in till your noses were inches apart and you two were all up in each other's business, "and then, next morning you left me all alone in your stupid penthouse—"
"i left you a text and food?" now it was rin's turn to act confuse. he inched forward daringly and the tips of your noses collided. eyes against yours in a heated dance, he hissed, "and i drew you a bath which you never even took."
"hah?" you scoffed, not pulling back lest he thinks he has won the competition against you, "that explains leaving me after we were done?"
"i rushed to the bathroom bec—" and then for the first time in his adult life, rin itoshi froze. because, tell me, how in god's name was he supposed to admit that just one look at your flushed, post-orgasm face had him spilling into his sweats as if puberty had hit him yesterday? just one split-second look away from your pretty pussy to your ruined face was enough for his to lose all physical restraint over his well-trained body? how could he let you see that, or even hear about it? it was embarrassing. worse, it was ego-threatening.
how was rin itoshi supposed to admit that he couldn't help but feel all types of things whenever you were around?
so, instead, he bit his tongue and made up an excuse — a bad one, but an excuse nonetheless, "i rushed because i remembered something."
"in the bathroom?" you repeated slowly and he nodded, hoping that the warmth of his cheeks wasn't on display.
"i— remembered that i needed to take a shower."
"immediately afterwards?"
"yes, sweat makes me feel gross." he nodded again, averting his gaze from you, "it's just one of those things."
"oh my god, you're such a fucking prick!" now, maybe those aren't the words you should be saying to the man who was paying for your flight to see your favourite player but he did just admit that he left you alone to take a stupid shower.
you two were only interrupted by the air-hostess bringing you a much-needed glass of wine. for the next nine hours till your next layover, you didn't even bother glancing at rin itoshi's stupid face.
but as you sat in silence, you realized that the upcoming days were going to be nice, atleast. you had planned an entire cozy itinerary without rin itoshi to meddle in your business, infact. the plan was simple: were going to land the next evening, and would probably stay-in that night to recover from the jet lag. the next morning you planned to visit some local areas, cafes, and such. and the third day was sae's match. then, you'd catch the flight home! fun!
so, you took in a deep breath, reminding yourself that it was only a matter of hours before you could get rid of rin. until then, all you had to do was ignore him. correct!
it was only after you had landed in barcelona that you interacted with rin — not too much though, only to thank him for the tickets and to avail you a taxi since he claimed he knew enough spanish to get around.
"what?" the pro-player cocked an eyebrow, dialing some number on his phone, "we're going to the hotel together, why do you need another taxi?"
"you paid for my hotel room?" your eyes widened, your grip on reality seemingly slipping as you realized that rin itoshi probably wouldn't book some cheap, 3rd-class hotel.
"yes?" he answered just as nonchalantly before answering the phone and sprouting out some spanish.
and there go your cozy vacation plans down the drain!
"you—" you were tongue-tied, so catastrophically shocked that you weren't even sure of what was happening and what wasn't, "why would you do that?!"
"well?" rin covered his phone half-heartedly, looking at you as if you were the one who had gone mad, "did you think i would just bring you here and leave you as it is?"
you stepped closer to him, voice hushed so as to not cause a scene at the airport, "i don't need more favours that you. i told you that."
"don't worry." rin muted the call with a quick swipe, "i am not gonna ask for any favours in return. this one's on me..." you almost missed the next few words, "cause i've been a prick lately."
you're not quite sure how it happened or why, but here you stood at the reception of a seven-star hotel while rin held a heated discussion with the staff in a foreign language.
many minutes passed by, following which the pro-player finally came walking back to you. his face fell, "they're saying they only have one room free."
"what?"
"i swear i booked two. i'm not playing around with you." you heard a mild panic in his otherwise cool tone and you held a palm up, "it's good — a sign from the universe! i should probably go, anyways. i'll find an accommadati—"
"no." rin was fierce. his face dipped lower, hot breath fanning across your face as he repeated, "you're not doing anything stupid like that. if anyone has to go, i will. you stay here."
"rin." you tried to argue but the receptionist called rin back for some reason. the next time rin came back to you, he was sickeningly pale.
"what did they say? someone has to go, right. i will—"
"—uh," the man looked at the polished marble underneath, his lower lashes so prominent as he closed his eyes, "they actually, kinda upgraded us to a honeymoon suite."
huh? honestly, this wasn't the weirdest thing that had happened to you this month. what's next? you're gonna go to the room and find a stack of condoms and a invitation for you two to fuc—
"—k me." you spoke aloud as soon as you entered the room. not only was it thrice the size of your studio apartment, and had a private pool in the balcony, but on the bed lay a stack of condoms, chocolates, cliche rose petals and an classy envelope with MR. AND MRS. ITOSHI printed on it.
rin picked the card up, opened it up and immediately went beet-red. you wouldn't be surprised if the card read "have a good time fucking!"
"i- i'll take the couch." rin stuffed the card deep into the pocket of his pants, ignoring the climbing warmth that painted his pale face uncharacteristically scarlet, "you take the bed."
"don't be ridiculous. i'm not taking the bed."
"there's no point arguing." he averted his gaze skillfully, hoping that the pink dusting his cheeks was not visible to you, "i... i'll take the couch. meanwhile, you can go wash up."
well, to be fair even the couches here looked better than your home couch but again, it was about the principle of the situation!
barcelona, day 01. evening.
truly, there was no point arguing with the rin itoshi because now, here you were ten minutes later, clearing the bed and throwing the chocolates and flavoured condoms in the side-drawer, never to be used by you two.
once done, you laid your clothes out and made your way to the shower. your footsteps were soft pitter-patters against the delicate rug and rin glanced back from the couch.
"shower?" he asked, and you nodded. at your curt answer, he pressed his lips into a thin line, "if you need something, call my name. i'll come."
you had slipped in the bathroom with nothing more than a soft nod to acknowledge him because... let's be real, why would you need him while showering? he could rest assured that there would no shenanigans happening on your end.
but now as the soft, luxurious soapsuds lapped against your skin so gently, the warm water of the tub slowly growing cold and leaving you devoid of any warmth in it's wake, you considered calling rin in.
closing your eyes, a dark, familiar curtain fell in front of your eyes and you tipped your head upwards. chewing on your bottom lip, you were divided whether the deal you and rin had once struck up still stood? and in that case, did you owe him something since he was responsible for your accommodation for the next three days here. but then again, he did act like a prick and maybe it was his way of making it up to you. but then again, he didn't act as much of a prick to repent by keeping you in a fucking seven-star residence.
you brought your hands over your face, the skin growing colder ever so slowly under the cruel stretch of time you were subjecting yourself to. then, some sort of peace washed over you. you dragged your hands down your skin, looking at the wooden door to the bathroom.
something clicked.
maybe, maybe this decision wasn't for you to take? maybe rin itoshi was the one who was supposed to decide if he wanted you or not?
"rin!" you called out, finally.
the doorknob turned almost immediately and you half-heartedly wondered if he had been standing at the edge, waiting for the echo of his name past your lips. of course not. but it was fun to imagine that rin itoshi wanted you so desperately.
on the other side, rin had been standing at the doorstep, listening to the soft cascades and waves of water as you took your sweet time in there. okay, maybe it was a bit pathetic for a pro-player like him to stand at the edge of a door waiting to be summoned but it's not like you'd ever know, right? right?
but as soon as he heard the shout of his name, his fingers found the cold metal and he stepped inside — and there you were. you had drawn up a flimsy towel to cover up your soaking body, soapsuds still clinging helplessly onto your legs as you stood at the edge of the humongous bathtub.
"ye-yeah?" rin commanded his attention to focus on the bathtub and not you. because if he looked at your soaked skin and hair, your perked buds against the soft fabric of the towel and the slightly rosy tint of your cheeks — rin was convinced he would either go insane from the idea or never having you again or do something that'll break the promise of being strangers.
"i, uh—" your gaze ran it's course from him to the vacant bathtub. a lone sweat droplet traveled down the ridge of your spine and you blamed the hotness of the enclosed bathroom for it. voice unsure, you asked, "i wanted to heat the water up. it got cold, so..."
"uhm," rin swallowed, brushing past you to look at the array of smaller buttons at the edge of the bathtub.
"this one." he pointed to a button which had hot written on it. "just press it till the temperature is to your liking."
"oh?" you leaned in, staring at the button next to him, "right." a nervous laugh rang out in that closed, hot room, "i don-don't know how in the world did i miss that."
rin turned around, avoiding to look at you, "s'okay."
you were so close that he could smell the fragrance of the expensive bath gel on your skin. the smell went straight to his head, intoxicating him and making him stutter in his usually confident demeanor. he wondered if he reached out and played with the wet strands of your hair, will you push his hand back or slap him?
but rin itoshi wasn't looking for the answer to that question, so he just asked, "anything else?"
you shook your head with a soft no.
"okay, then." rin took hurried step towards the door, never once looking back to you, "and hurry up, i- uh, i gotta wash up too."
"o-okay?"
he shut the door behind him with a surprisingly loud thud! and now, you stood in the previously occupied bathroom with a confirmed answer: rin itoshi did not want you. like... at all.
that's what his cold demeanor had told you, atleast. he had not even bothered to give you a look that lasted more than a spilt-second and then promptly left as soon as he felt it fitting. you sunk back into the cold water, half-annoyed at yourself for calling him and half-annoyed at him for being so fucking closed-off.
for the rest of the day, you both had minimal contact. he didn't bother you with questions, and you didn't annoy him with answers. rin was busy on his laptop, attending team meetings and answering sponsors about his sudden getaway to spain while you just sat on the bed, doomscrolling the rest of the evening away. somehow, within your silences, you both had found a comfortable pattern to just be.
that was until dinner.
"you're not going to bed?" you tried to ask, patting the pillows to fluff them up to your liking.
"no," rin didn't bother looking back from where he sat on the couch. a glass of wine pinched between his fingers, a monotonous expression on his pretty face, "i have some work to finish up. are you? going to sleep... i mean?"
"yeah." you nodded and a silence fell across the room. within the thick fog of silence, you could almost tell apart the strumming of your own heart. moments turned eternal and you held your bated breath for some kind of acknowledgement from him. when none came, you spoke up again, "are you sure you'd be okay on the couch?"
"mhm. don't worry."
"okay then," you pursed your lips, laying down on the godawfully soft mattress, "see you tomorrow... goodnight."
"g'night." he finally breathed out and you're not quite sure when exactly you fell asleep on the silken sheets, but you were awoken by the sound of someone showering once the sky was bright and clear.
barcelona, day 02.
rin didn't say anything to you as he walked out of the shower with his hair wet, nor did you say anything to him as you got ready for a day of tourist activities. he told you he was gonna stay in, said he had sponsor meetings and you bid him goodbye as you went out to see the place around. the day passed by in a blur of tourist activities and kind strangers, away from rin itoshi.
when you came back, he didn't ask you formal questions about how your day was, and you didn't tell him polite answers. you two stayed stuck in your cycle of silence. that was all.
that was all until it was far too late into the night, at least.
you stepped out of the shower, far gone to care about his presence in the room. it was clear that he held no desire for you, so you waltzing out of steaming shower with nothing but a robe was probably child's play to him.
hair wet, face flushed, you found your gaze drifting to the couch only to notice the absence of rin. eyebrows marrying, your gaze scanned the entire room carefully — from the empty couch to the dark balcony to finally, the least probable place: your bed.
and surprisingly, that's where you found him; face flushed, palms sweaty and limbs shaking as he met your eyes. what?
"rin?" instinct took ahold of you, steps rushing to reach the man who looked clearly unwell. you brought a steady palm up to his forehead, checking his temperature. your eyes locked against his dilated ones, words shivering under the intensity, "d-did something happen?"
"i—" rin almost gasped as you put your palm on his neck next to check for the temperature. voice growing gruff, he looked away, "'m fine. i jus' kinda feel— i feel weird."
"weird?" your brows bunched as you trailed a soft palm up to his cheek, and rin shivered under you. "weird how?"
"i dunno." his voice seemed to turn hoarser, as if it had gotten harder to speak with each wayward touch you planted across his scorching skin, "i- i ate their stupid chocolates and—"
"—what?"
"the ones you put in the..." he pointed to the side-table, "there."
you rushed to the side-table, clumsy fingers pulling out the heart-shaped chocolates only to turn them around to read if they said something. and oh boy, was there something they said. aphro—
"—odisiac." you breathed out the word, shaky vision travelling back to the pro-player who seemed to grow tenser and tenser with each passing second.
"rin," you called out carefully, taking a step towards him, "how many of these did you have?"
"th-ree, no, four."
"seriously?!" your voice squeaked, body turning towards him fully to take notice of the sweat beading at his forehead, the sheen plastered across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheek, his labored breathing.
he pulled at the collar of his t-shirt, trying desperately to dissipate the heat that his body seemed to torture him with "i feel hot, and—" rubbing his palms down against his sweats, he looked up at you, utterly helpless. "—what's happening to me? i- don't—"
"it's okay, it's okay." you cut him off, "take off your shirt."
rin followed your command blindly. nimble fingers pinched the ends of his t-shirt only to pull it off himself as fast as he could. underneath the material, his chest was flushed red to match his face.
"d-does it feel any better?" and rin groaned at your stupid question, "no."
the man shifted his pelvis, trying to pull at the waistband of his sweats when your gaze finally traveled to the tent in his pants. he looked pained, eyes frenzied and breath stuttering as he tried to figure out a position where his aching dick didn't drive him insane.
you stepped closer, and closer, and closer till you were standing a mere inches away from him. a finger under his sharp jaw, you pulled his face upwards to meet yours. a slow breath, "rin."
and he almost whimpered at the way you held him still, "y-yeah?"
"let me help."
at his feverish nods, you sunk to your knees. practiced hands tugged at his waistband and he complied all-too-excitedly to lift his hips up and free his cock of this endless torture.
his muscles visibly relaxed at your slow breathing against his heated tip — reddened, it oozed pre out that cascaded down his shaft. rin threw his head back, wet hair sticking to his nape as you placed a carefully calculated kiss to the tip. your tongue carefully pressed against his slit as you sucked on the tip and rin all but combusted.
"a-ah," his deep voice pitched up, hips squirming as you toyed with him, "fuck, fuck fuuhck—"
your hand pulled his towards his cock and he looked down at you, confused, "what..?"
your eyes stayed locked against him as you placed his own hand on the bottom half of his erection, hollowed cheeks still sucking on the tip. your hand encompassing his own, you guided him to slowly stroke himself as you kept toying with his flushed tip.
"fuck-ing god." rin breathed and for once, he didn't avert his gaze from you. your heated hold over his hand prompted him to pump himself faster. and although, his own touch was familiar, the way you looked up at him — all doe-eyes and sinful kisses — made his thighs shake.
"god—" his voice choked, head thrown back and eyes clenching shut in an effort to not cry at the way your tongue played against his silt, how your hand squeezed his, urging him, begging him to go on.
you let go of his tip only to pull his face downwards to look at you, "look at me. stop fuckin' running away."
and this time, a whimper did escape him at your words. lips wobbling, eyebrows bunched and lashline heavy with unresolved tears — rin itoshi was fuckin' beautiful as he stared down at you.
you pressed another kiss to the tip and his hand sped up under your command until— splash! his toes curled, body leaning back as his voice shook with desperate moans, and thick, white ribbons of cum painted his hand and your lips in a wretched pearlish glow.
rin huffed, eyes blown wide at the view of his essence on your lips and the way you seemed to pursue his taste with your tongue— cleaning him up so carefully that it made him hard all over again. shit.
a sudden strong hold on your arms pulled you upto him and his jittery fingers pulled at the belt of your robe to have you all to himself. as he tried to undo the knot with his shaky fingers, you raked a hand through his wet hair, travelling backwards till your palm was cradling the back of his head ever-so-softly.
and then, you pulled at the base of his strands and rin whined in response. the lewd sounds accompanied the driveling of his hips into the cold air, and with each strained rut, more of his cum oozed down his abused cock.
"fuck, rin." it was your turn to whimper, now. eyes blown and face heated, you looked between the man and his erect, throbbing, filthy cock. who knew rin itoshi could be so fucking messy?
eyes clenched, lips agape and breath stolen — rin itoshi was rendered useless and you pushed him backwards into the bed before disrobing yourself.
your naked body climbing over his, you pumped his overstimulated cock with a languid pace, using his own essence as a lubricant for his own undoing.
"fuck." his eyes stayed clenched, forehead drawn into lines as his body responded to each one of your endlessly torturous acts. he gasped as you kissed his neck, his jawline and then, his shoulder.
"you're doin' so well, rin." your voice was soft against his heated skin, and you kissed his jaw again, sucking slow enough for him to lose his mind. then, you repeated, "so fucking well."
and that seemed to be rin itoshi's kryptonite.
words pitched, moans obscene and muscles spasming under your touch, rin came again. and again, and again, and fucking again as you kept toying with him.
now, you're weren't sure if it were only a few minutes since he first came or hours, but as you tugged at his sensitive cock with the sensual drags of your palm, rin actually cried out.
"n-no more." more tears welled up in his eyes, cheeks so deeply flushed as he begged you, "p-please, i can't. i can't."
"you can, baby." you cooed, pressing your thighs together as his desperate pleas went straight to your throbbing cunt. ignoring your own swiveling desire, you pushed the man who once stood so tall to his limits.
"no, no." his hips jerked as you continued to drag your hands along his cock. teeth biting down into his bottom lips, tears fell down the plane of his face. clammy palms clenched and unclenched the silken sheets below as rin barely tried to stop his steady decline into deliriousness, "ple-please. i really can't."
"fine." you purred, hands coming to a slow halt against his heated erection, "i'll stop."
and just as you pulled your hands back to yourself, rin's wet eyes widened. despite his aching bones and jelly-like muscles, the man lunged forward to catch your wrist in his fingers.
"no," he breathed, eyes watering at the sudden lack of skin-on-skin contact. he repeated, this time with a bit of force in his voice, "no."
leaning forward, you caught his kissbitten lips against yours. cutting the kiss short, your words were soft against his, "you want it?"
and he nodded again, tongue rendered useless with how heavy it felt in his mouth. you drew a careful hand up his heated thighs, and he trembled under your touch, "say it out loud for me."
"yes." rin shook his head.
your lips trailed down to his jaw, featherlike kisses across his heated skin as your hand sped up yet again in that cruel, familiar pattern. his orgasm built like a crescendo, peaking higher and higher till he was shooting blanks.
when he was all spent out, rin itoshi shuddered and slumped against your arms. breath uneven, hair matted, skin sweaty, fiery and dusted pink as it made contact against your skin.
he looked up at you, half-lidded gaze still haunted by remnants of tears that clung onto his lashes. as if on instinct, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, soothing the searing skin under with your soft act. rin closed his eyes at the closeness, a gasp at the tip of his tongue because all of it felt so foreign.
he wasn't in control of his body — his trusty muscles felt lead-like, head hammering as if his brain would break-though his cranium, and heart thumping out a rhythm that sounded awfully like chants of your name. it was clear, rin itoshi didn't quite feel like himself as you cradled him so softly in your arms.
"you okay?" you asked far too softly, half worried that the wind will catch your words before it reached him. but to your surprise, rin nodded.
"i'll clean you up." you muttered, peripheral vision dragging along the sheets to see what a mess you two had made. his thighs and abs were painted white similarly to your hand, the fluid dripped down to the expensive sheets and stained them. you nodded with resolve, "rest up, i'll be done soon. yeah?"
a heavy croak stopped you. rin looked up at you, voice heavy and eyes watery as if one misstep and he would find himself losing control, "don't go."
maybe it was the finality in his voice that confused you, or the fact that he wanted you around. eitherways, you refuted with a soft shake of your head, "i- i really should, we've made a mes—"
"—don't go."
and so, you didn't. you let your body slump against the bedframe, scorched back against the cool wood and rin rested his cheek against your stomach, his arms pressed against your waist in an innocent hug. you raked your fingers through his sweaty hair before trailing them downwards to massage his nape and weary shoulders. his breath slowed down under your delicate touches and soon enough, he was asleep.
your hands stayed kneading at his muscles, gaze locked in at the man and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. with each soft inhale, the deep blush slowly eased away from his face, leaving behind the same stoic man you had known for a few weeks.
in this silence, you were starkly aware of two routes this relationship arrangement may go: 1) the most probable one: once the pro-player came to his senses, he will regret this — all that came before this, all that may come after this, you — and go no-contact. 2) the least probable one: he'd sit down and have a conversation with you, and then you both could figure out where things would go from here.
knowing rin itoshi though, you mentally prepared yourself for never seeing him again once this trip was over. it wouldn't be hard, obviously. how long did you even know the man? a few weeks, give or take. why would you mourn his presence when you never even quite had him?
you closed your eyes, fingers still softly playing with his tresses. you knew what was to come, knew that this was probably the end of him and you (or whatever it was between him and you), knew that him and you were just a series of favours for favours. and yet, your heart sank as you stared at his face for a moment too long.
rin itoshi was driving you insane!!
but however perceptive you may be, or however properly you think you knew rin — you miscalculated.
because neither did the man take the route of leaving you, nor did he talk things out with you. instead, here you were pinned against the wall in the supply closet. the supply closet of the very same stadium sae itoshi was playing at while rin stared down at you.
"a favour for a favour." he husked, "let me pay you back for last night."
rin itoshi was driving you insane.
a/n: love how i make everything into a three-part series :/ anyways, hope this was a fun enough read. i love men who are so emotionally unwell that it is borderline hilarious. what does that say about me? idk, nor do i wanna find out :) tagging: @ionlyhearnct @mortallyshadysoul @mindfulsreposts @mikaru0 @slutforitoshi @keiitamaa @loonalockley @ouraniaslyre @froggie-zusya23 @levcn @mimi-in-heaven i hope this was satisfying <3
#bllk#blue lock#bllk smut#blue lock smut#rin itoshi#itoshi rin#sae itoshi#rin itoshi smut#itoshi rin smut#rin smut#rin itoshi x reader smut#itoshi rin x reader#blue lock x you#bllk x reader#bllk x reader smut
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Hi if you are taking requests I’m in a super soft mood.
Would you do something with Eddie not being used to affection? Super touch starved. And when he and reader start dating he is tense when you first show that your love language is physical touch? And slowly. Not to scare him you try to show and convince him he deserves nothing but kindness and loving touches?
hi honey!! always taking requests, i just take forever to answer them haha :)
your boyfriend, eddie munson, had a hard childhood - that was clear.
for one, he grew up with his uncle wayne instead of two parents. you’ve met mr munson, and he’s a truly sweet man, but you’re pretty sure he didn’t plan on raising a child.
he told you his mom died and his dad is gone but not much else and you don’t want to pry. you figure he’ll tell you on his own time and that’s good enough for you. mostly, you just want him to know he’s safe with you.
the only part that bothers you is that his past trauma has convinced him he isn’t worthy of soft touches and patience and your everlasting devotion. you have to fix this, you decide.
you noticed pretty early into the relationship that he’s timid around physical intimacy - not necessarily sex, more the sweet and loving caresses you offer him daily - since every time you mold yourself to his back in bed he suddenly has to ‘get to work’.
at first it really hurt your feelings. he could have sex with you (with minimal nervousness) but he couldn’t cuddle you??
but then the heartbreaking realization set in that he just cant let you show that you love him. cant let you be tender with the parts of him you know have been crushed by people meant to protect him.
so, you start small.
eddie gets all worked up sometimes talking about things he loves, so you wait for him to get all excited and distracted and then you start gently twirling his hair between your fingers while he goes on and on.
eventually it evolves to you running your hands through his hair, lightly massaging his head while he unknowingly unravels in front of you. you rake your nails over his scalp, scratching his stress away.
you can tell how much he appreciates such a small gesture by the way he sinks into your touch, a warm smile on his sleepy face.
he starts to expect it, much to your delight. whenever he realizes he’s getting super into a discussion he cozies up to you, laying his head in your lap usually by slumping onto you and forcing you to lay down so you can be his teddy bear.
you’re extremely proud of this progress, even moreso when he sleepily turns one evening, smushing his face against your thigh and sighing contently. you don’t stop petting his hair until you feel his breathing slow against the inside of your leg.
you figure it was a combination of you talking instead of him, and the long awful day he apparently had at work. either way, you thank the stars and make sure not to wake him. it grows your ego substantially knowing your voice guided him to a peaceful sleep.
the next morning you wake up with him still wrapped around your waist, cheek smushed into your tummy. you’re both still in your clothes, eddie in his dirty work overalls cause he couldn’t wait to cuddle you, and neither of you expected him to fall asleep. you pet his head softly - its practically instinctive whenever you see him, especially snoring softly like this
he stirs when you rake your nails across his back gently, drawing swirls and patterns on him while he’s still too sleepy to protest. his eyes meet yours, his hair adorably disheveled. he looks incredibly disoriented and confused and all you can do is smile at your puppy of a boyfriend.
“..did we fall asleep like this?” his voice comes out all gravelly how you love, its always like that in the morning, you’ve come to find out.
“yes” you giggile, fixing a stray curl. “you fell asleep like this, honey.”
he blushes and gets nervous as usual, you’re familiar with his patterns, but he doesn’t move - not yet.
you take advantage of that fact, lifting his chin so he’s forced to look at you again. this time when you look into his wide eyes, you sense guilt.
“eddie, i liked it.” you smile, moving to rub his cheek, your thumb swiping gently just below his eye. “is there some reason you think i wouldn’t? o-or did you not like it?” he panics when your smile falters, lips twitching in hesitation.
“No!” he yelps a little too loud, awkward in that sitcom way he’s always been. charming, you think.
“O-of course i liked it, baby..” his eyes flick between obeying and keeping eye contact and staring down to avoid you.
“you’re so warm.. ‘n soft..” his eyes meet yours again and theres a sincerety and vulnerability you’ve never seen. close, maybe, but this is new.
“yeah?” you coo, coaxing him further into this soft space you’ve unlocked for him.
he nods, a coy smile forming. “I like touching you, y/n. i-i always want to i-im just..” you rub his cheek. “cautious. i guess. ‘m scared.” he looks up at you again, wide eyes beaming in a way that makes you think his pupils are just holes peering into the sparkling of his heart. its clear he’s opening himself to you in a way no one’s seen before. maybe other than his mom. its an honour you refuse to waste.
“what are you scared of ed?” not once do you stop softly petting him , his cheeks, his hair, his neck, a thumb across his lip.
“I just.. i dunno. you’re so soft, so sweet and kind and i-“ he falters, and you immediately hug him to you, rubbing his back. “its ok, honey. take your time, im here.” he sighs, his hands grasping you for comfort.
“i dont wanna break you. or lose you..” he admits, maybe for the first time to himself at all. your heart breaks. obviously you could assume with what you know about his past but the details and results never stop hurting. you wish you could’ve saved him, could’ve saved his mother and given him a better father. or just taken him far, far away.
now, all you can do is hold him. one hand in his hair, one rubbing his back and you kiss the top of his head.
“im not going anywhere.” you promise, your lips still pressed in his hair.
“gonna stay and cuddle you forever, teddy” your hand sneaks under his shirt and rubs his back, up and down the soft skin. its vulnerable in a literal and figurative way you cant fully process in the moment but later you’ll cry over how poetic and sentimental it is.
you feel him sink into you, letting his weight crush you a little. his voice rumbles where hes hiding his face, a small “promise?” muffled by your chest.
you frown, wishing he never had to feel this way.
“I promise, eddie. m’yours” you can feel him smile, giddy and childish in this state.
“and you’re mine” you giggle as he rubs his face into you like a cat displaying affection.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#my blurbs#soft blurb#eddie munson x y/n#eddie the freak munson#stranger things#eddie munson x you#eddie munson blurb#stranger things fic#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie x y/n#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson fluff
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an angels guide: my perfect winter evening routine ⋆。˚୨୧˚。⋆
hi angels! i cant believe it’s almost christmas… im feeling so angelic and wintery! im very excited and i thought a good post would be a winter evening routine (especially as a few of you so kindly asked me for one)! my goals with my winter evening routine are primarily to be productive but also to get cozy and properly rest and recover for the next day. remember this is an ideal evening routine and not something ill achieve every evening! enjoy angels.
arrive home by 4:30 - 5:00.
spend a maximum of half an hour changing, putting clothes in the laundry, unpacking bag and getting books and supplies ready for work later. prep anything needed for cooking later.
make a cup of tea, warm matcha or hot chocolate. have a snack if needed!
refill bottle of water.
settle down and start work, focusing on most urgent work and doing what i can to make future tasks easier.
check what i need school wise for next day, pack bag and organise notes and resources needed. if possible read up on material for upcoming lesson to begin getting a grasp on the knowledge needed.
when finished with work do an evening workout for 30 minutes to an hour (on days when i have not worked out in the morning).
start cooking dinner and eat.
tidy up kitchen and prepare anything needed for lunches/breakfast the next day.
make a green tea to aid digestion!
prepare for a shower or bath.
dry brush prior to washing.
when in water exfoliate if shaving, i use either a dove sugar scrub, a lush one or a body shop one (normally in sweet, fruity or sugary scents).
regardless of whether i have exfoliated or not i then use a plain, unscented bar of soap to cleanse my body. i use a wash cloth to really cleanse my body and ensure all soap traces are removed.
if its a shaving day i massage shaving gel on the places im shaving, applying a light layer of baby oil to soften the skin and hair in particularly sensitive areas.
use a scented body wash and wash and clean everywhere thoroughly.
towel dry gently and apply a plain body lotion (the thicker the better during winter). when it has sunk in apply a body oil and scented lotion other the top.
put on my fave cozy pjs.
watch something or give myself some relaxing downtime. my favourites at the moment are anything christmassy (i love festive episodes from my fave shows and christmas films!), gilmore girls and some really interesting documentaries.
fill up bottle with water.
use mouthwash, clean teeth and floss.
pm skincare.
nightly yoga stretch.
get into bed and do a few minutes of journaling (or longer sometimes inspiration strikes late!).
read in bed until i am ready to rest, then go to sleep.
thank you for reading angels! i tried to include timings where possible but my schedule can vary massively - this is an example of a day where i had no activities etc. this isnt what every evening looks like for me, i try to find what works for me and be adjustable with a few daily non negotiables. happy christmas countdown to all who celebrate! feel free to tell me your evening routines or give me and others any tips - i love hearing from all of you angels.
love, m.
#girlblogging#girlhood#becoming that girl#just girly things#it girl#glow up#it girl energy#clean girl#that girl#pink pilates princess#winter aesthetic#winter girl#evening#self care routine#daily routine
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Love Sick
Summary: You and Max have been together for a while and you knew he loved you but you didn't know to what extent.
Song: Infrunami - Steve Lacy
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! <3
Word count: 6.8k
You and Max had been in a loving relationship for quite some time, a bond that everyone around you could see.
Friends and family often remarked on the chemistry you shared, but there was a depth to Max's feelings that you had yet to fully grasp.
It was during a particularly chilly race weekend that everything changed.
You had been feeling under the weather, but your determination to support him pushed you to follow him into the paddock on Thursday, despite his insistence that you should rest at home.
"You should really take it easy," he had said, concern etched on his face. "I can’t race without you cheering me on, Max," you replied, a smile masking your discomfort.
As you stepped into the paddock, the cold air nipped at your skin, and you shivered slightly in your light dress while Max was comfortably clad in his team shirt. He noticed your discomfort almost immediately, his eyes softening with concern.
"You’re freezing!" he exclaimed, taking your hands in his.
The warmth of his palms enveloped your fingers as he rubbed them together, blowing gentle breaths of warm air onto them. The fans around you caught the tender moment on their cameras, and you could feel the flutter of butterflies in your chest.
"You always know how to make me feel better," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in your words was unmistakable.
As you made your way to Red Bull's garage, Max was already thinking ahead. "Wait here," he instructed, darting off to find a blanket.
You watched him go, your heart swelling with affection. Moments later, he returned, a thick, cozy blanket in his arms. "Here, this should help," he said, wrapping it around you tightly.
You felt the warmth envelop you, and it was as if he was shielding you from the cold and the world outside.
"I can’t believe you came out here when you’re not feeling well," he said, his brow furrowing with concern. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world," you replied, looking into his eyes and realizing just how much he truly cared.
As he left for the press conference, you felt a surge of love for him, knowing that this moment was just a glimpse into the depths of his affection.
You settled into a nearby chair, the blanket cocooning you in warmth. You watched him walk away, his confident stride and focused demeanor a stark contrast to the tenderness he had just shown you.
It was moments like these that made you appreciate the layers of his personality—the fierce competitor on the track and the caring partner off it.
Time seemed to slip away as you drifted into a peaceful nap, the blanket enveloping you like a gentle hug. When Max returned, he paused at the sight of you sleeping soundly on the sofa. A smile crept across his face, but he hesitated, not wanting to disturb your rest.
“You look so peaceful,” he murmured to himself, deciding instead to join you. He settled down beside you, wrapping his arms around you, feeling the warmth radiate between you.
“I’ll just stay here until you wake up,” he whispered softly, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as he closed his eyes, content to simply be near you.
Eventually, you stirred, blinking against the soft light and feeling the comforting weight of Max beside you.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he greeted, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I missed you.”
You smiled, still a bit groggy, and he helped you sit up. “Let’s get you home,” he said, his tone shifting to one of care.
Once you arrived, he guided you to the bathroom. “A warm shower will do wonders,” he insisted.
The moment the warm water hit your skin, you felt an immediate sense of relief and relaxation. The heat seeped into your muscles, easing the tension and washing away the remnants of the cold you had braved earlier.
As the steam enveloped you, it was as if every drop was rejuvenating your spirit, leaving you feeling refreshed and comforted.
You closed your eyes, letting the water cascade over you, and your mind wandered back to the tender moments shared with Max. The warmth of the shower mirrored the warmth of his embrace, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for his unwavering support and love.
The day's worries seemed to melt away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and appreciation for the life you were building together.
Meanwhile, Max busied himself in the kitchen, preparing a simple yet hearty meal to further soothe you after your long day. He set the table with care, ensuring everything was perfect for when you rejoined him.
As he heard the water turn off, he quickly finished up, eager to see the relaxed expression on your face.
“Max! You didn’t have to!” you exclaimed, stepping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your shoulders.
The delicious aroma wafting through the air made your stomach rumble, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of his thoughtful preparation.
He turned to face you, a playful grin on his lips. “Nonsense, I wanted to,” he replied, pulling out a chair for you.
“You’ve had a long day, and it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, I enjoy cooking for you.”
You sat down, touched by his gesture. “Thank you, Max. You always know how to make everything better,” you said sincerely, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He leaned in and kissed your forehead, his eyes filled with affection. “That’s because you mean the world to me,” he whispered, making your heart swell with love as you both settled in to enjoy the meal together.
After you both settled into bed, you watched as he prepared for his sim training. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Get some more rest; I’ll join you soon.”
As he left, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, knowing that no matter how busy life got, he always made time for you. . . .
As Friday dawned, a sense of relief washed over you, a welcome change from the heaviness of the previous days. You felt a spark of energy that was enough to persuade Max that you were fit to join him at the paddock.
With a playful grin, you rummaged through your wardrobe, finally settling on a chic yet comfortable outfit. You chose a fitted black tank top that accentuated your figure, paired with high-waisted denim shorts that offered both style and ease of movement.
To complete the look, you slipped on a pair of white sneakers, perfect for a day filled with excitement and activity. A light denim jacket hung loosely over your shoulders, ready to fend off any unexpected chill.
The atmosphere at the paddock was electric, buzzing with the anticipation of the day’s events. You knew it was going to be a whirlwind, but your heart swelled with pride knowing that Max would need your support as the day progressed.
As the engines roared to life and the cars zoomed past, you found yourself surrounded by the girls—Alex, Lily, and Rebecca—who were all too eager to share in the excitement.
They exchanged knowing glances and playful nudges, their laughter ringing out as they began to tease you about your relationship with Max. “You know he’s head over heels for you, right?” Alex chimed in, a mischievous glint in her eye.
You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully at their antics. “Oh, come on! It’s not like that,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the warmth creeping into your cheeks betrayed your true feelings.
Lily leaned in closer, a smirk plastered on her face.
“Please, we all see the way he looks at you. It’s like you’re the only one in the room!” Rebecca added, her voice teasing yet sincere.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mix of embarrassment and joy at their words. “Alright, alright! Maybe he does care a little,” you admitted, your heart fluttering at the thought.
The camaraderie among you and the girls made the day even more special, and as you cheered for Max from the sidelines, you felt a sense of belonging that made every moment worthwhile.
As Max stepped out of the car, the tension in the air was palpable. You were standing nearby, ready to offer him a comforting embrace, knowing all too well the challenges he faced with the troublesome vehicle.
The frustration of dealing with a poorly performing car weighed heavily on him, and you could see it etched on his face.
Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
"You did everything you could," you whispered softly into his shoulder, hoping to ease some of the burden he carried.
Max pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. "Thanks, schatje," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with sincerity.
The bond between you two was undeniable, forged through shared experiences and the ups and downs of racing life.
He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the disappointment, but you could sense that he was still grappling with the weight of the day.
"I need to go check on my performance before the second practice," he said, his brow furrowing as he turned to head towards the paddock.
As he walked away, you felt a familiar ache beginning to throb at your temples, a headache creeping in as the stress of the day settled over you. You leaned against the wall, watching him disappear into the chaos of the pit area, where engineers and mechanics buzzed around like bees.
The noise of the crowd and the whir of machinery filled the air, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the moments of the day.
You knew that racing was a relentless pursuit, filled with highs and lows, and you wished you could shield him from the pressures that came with it.
With a sigh, you closed your eyes for a moment, hoping that the next practice would bring better results for Max, and that the headache would soon fade away.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the practice field, Max stood by the sidelines, his eyes scanning the area for you.
The second practice of the day was about to commence, and the excitement in the air was palpable. Just as the engineers were perfecting his car, Max waved you over with an eager grin.
You could see the determination in his eyes, but there was something else there too—a hint of mischief that made your heart flutter.
"Hey, can you give me a kiss before I head out?" he asked, his voice playful yet sincere.
You felt a pang of hesitation as you remembered the cold that had settled in your chest. "Max, I'm really not feeling well. I could pass this on to you, and I wouldn’t want to ruin your day," you replied, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
But Max just shook his head, his expression unwavering. "I’d rather get sick than miss out on your kiss. Besides, that’s not how your good luck charm works," he insisted, a teasing lilt in his voice that made it hard to resist.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his stubbornness, even as you felt a wave of affection wash over you. "You know, you’re going to regret this if you end up with a sore throat," you warned, crossing your arms playfully.
Max stepped closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I’ll take my chances. Just one kiss, and I promise I’ll be back to my usual self in no time," he said, leaning in slightly, his confidence infectious.
With a resigned smile, you gave in, your resolve crumbling under Max's unwavering gaze.
Leaning forward, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth and familiarity that always seemed to erase your worries, if only for a moment.
His lips lingered on yours, and as you pulled away, you noticed the sparkle in his eyes had intensified, a mix of determination and pure joy.
"See? I feel better already," Max said with a wink, his grin broadening. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at his boundless optimism.
"Now go out there and show them what you're made of," you encouraged, giving him a playful shove towards the car.
As he jogged off, you watched him with a renewed sense of hope, the cold in your chest momentarily forgotten, replaced by the warmth of his love and the promise of better times ahead.
The familiar sound of his vehicle echoed in your ears, but instead of feeling a sense of relief, a dull ache began to throb at your temples. You rubbed your forehead gently, hoping to ease the discomfort, but the tension only seemed to intensify.
You glanced around, noticing the bustling crowd around you, but the thought of sharing your discomfort with anyone felt unnecessary.
After all, everyone seemed preoccupied with their own lives, and you didn’t want to burden them with your headache.
Max had a knack for turning moments into memories, and today was no exception. After securing P1 in the second practice, he bounded out of the car with an infectious energy that made your heart race.
As he approached you, a playful grin spread across his face, and without hesitation, he leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips. "See? I told you it works," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth that momentarily chased away the headache that had been nagging at you all day.
"Okay, Max," you replied, your voice light despite the discomfort. The thrill of his victory was palpable, and you wanted to share in that joy, even if it meant masking your own growing unease.
However, the celebration was short-lived as Max was soon swept away by a flurry of media obligations.
You watched him engage with reporters, his charisma shining through as he answered questions and posed for photos. Each laugh and smile he shared with the cameras felt like a reminder of the energy you were lacking.
As the minutes ticked by, your headache intensified, a dull throb that seemed to echo the excitement around you. You tried to focus on the moment, but the growing discomfort made it increasingly difficult.
Finally, once the media duties were done, you both headed home, the car ride filled with a comfortable silence that allowed you to gather your thoughts, even as you felt the weight of your fatigue pressing down on you.
Once you arrived home, the first thing you did was rush to the bathroom to grab the thermometer. You needed to know just how bad it was. As you waited for the reading, you felt a mix of anxiety and relief when it showed a high temperature, but thankfully, it wasn’t high enough to warrant a trip to the hospital.
You decided to keep this information to yourself, not wanting to distract Max from his focus on the qualifying race tomorrow.
Just as you were trying to shake off the worry, you heard his voice call out from the kitchen, "Schatje! I made you some food!" The smell wafting through the air was enticing, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to eat.
"Umm, Max, I don’t feel hungry," you replied, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.
He appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his face. "But you hardly ate anything today. Are you okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
"I’m fine, really," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just a bit tired from all the excitement today. I think I just need some rest."
You hoped he would accept your answer and let it go, but the worry in his eyes told you he wasn’t convinced.
"Are you sure?" he pressed, stepping closer and reaching out to touch your forehead. "You’re a bit warm. Maybe you should see a doctor."
You shook your head gently, trying to reassure him. "It’s nothing serious, Max. Probably just a minor bug. I’ll be alright after a good night’s sleep. You need to focus on tomorrow’s race; I’ll be cheering you on from bed if I have to."
Max sighed but didn’t push further. "Alright, but promise me you'll let me know if it gets worse," he said, his voice laced with concern.
You nodded, appreciating his worry but not wanting to add to his stress. "I promise," you replied softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
He lingered for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge your honesty. Finally, he seemed to accept your words and gave a small nod.
"I'll leave the food here in case you change your mind," he said, placing the plate on the table next to you. "And if you need anything, just call for me, okay?"
You watched him return to the kitchen, feeling a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful about your condition. As much as you wanted to be strong for him, the fatigue was overwhelming.
You settled into bed, pulling the covers around you tightly, hoping that sleep would come quickly and wash away the day's worries. . . .
Saturday dawned with an unwelcome chill that seeped into your bones, leaving you shivering under the covers. As you reluctantly peeled back the sheets, a wave of discomfort washed over you, manifesting as a relentless headache and muscle aches that felt like a freight train had run over you.
The loss of appetite was particularly disheartening; the thought of food made your stomach churn, and irritability simmered just beneath the surface.
You could feel the weight of the day pressing down on you, and it took every ounce of persuasion to convince Max that you should accompany him to the paddock.
“I promise I’ll be fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile as you pushed through the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you.
Even the breakfast he prepared, which usually brought you joy, felt like a monumental task, but you managed to eat a few bites without revealing the turmoil inside.
After a long internal debate, you settled on a cozy outfit that would keep you warm despite the chill in the air. You slipped into a thick, oversized sweater that enveloped you like a comforting hug, its soft fabric soothing against your skin.
Paired with snug leggings and your favorite pair of fuzzy socks, you felt a little more at ease, even if the discomfort lingered. To top it off, you wrapped a stylish scarf around your neck, its vibrant colors a stark contrast to your pallor.
As you walked into the paddock alongside Max, you made a conscious effort to maintain a cheerful demeanor, your smile brightening your face even as your body protested.
“You look great today,” Max said, glancing at you with a mix of concern and admiration. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” You nodded, determined to keep the façade intact.
Just before Max climbed into his car for qualifying, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a moment of warmth that momentarily distracted you from your discomfort.
“Good luck out there! I know you’ll do amazing,” you encouraged, your voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside.
As he smiled back, a flicker of pride in his eyes, you felt a rush of affection for him. But as soon as he drove off, the reality of your condition hit hard.
You rushed to the nearest bathroom, the world around you blurring as you barely made it in time to throw up.
“Why today of all days?” you muttered to yourself, feeling defeated. The vibrant atmosphere of the paddock faded into the background.
The thought of Max finding out gnawed at you as you leaned against the cool tile wall for support. You knew he would be worried sick, probably insisting you see a doctor immediately and potentially even jeopardizing his focus for the race.
The last thing you wanted was to be the cause of any distraction or stress for him on such an important day.
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to regain composure. "I can handle this," you whispered, splashing cold water on your face and rinsing your mouth.
You stared at your reflection, determined not to let this moment define the day. After tidying yourself up, you smoothed down your sweater and adjusted your scarf, hoping to erase any signs of your recent struggle.
With a final, resolute nod, you stepped out of the bathroom, the bustling noise of the paddock washing over you once more.
As you made your way to meet the girls, you plastered a smile on your face, determined to keep the mood light and positive.
They greeted you with enthusiasm, their energy a welcome distraction from your internal battle. You joined their lively conversation, laughing at their jokes and sharing in their excitement for the event.
Though the discomfort lingered, you felt a renewed sense of resolve; you were determined to be strong for Max and for yourself, no matter what.
You kept yourself busy and distracted until Max was finished with his racing duties by immersing yourself in the various activities around the paddock.
You visited the merchandise stalls, chatted with other fans, and even took some time to explore the behind-the-scenes areas.
Every now and then, you would check your phone for updates on Max's progress, your heart racing with each notification.
When the race finally ended, you made your way to the team's garage, your nerves a mix of excitement and lingering unease.
Max emerged, covered in sweat but grinning from ear to ear, his performance clearly a success. You rushed to congratulate him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.
"You were incredible out there!" you exclaimed, pushing aside your own discomfort for the moment.
Max, full of adrenaline and joy, kissed you deeply and whispered, "Couldn't have done it without you."
His words melted your heart, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. "I was so worried," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But seeing you out there, giving it your all, it reminded me why we do this. It’s all worth it."
Max pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a seriousness that belied his earlier joy.
"I know it’s tough, but having you here means everything to me. You’re my rock, and knowing you’re cheering me on gives me the strength to push harder."
"Thanks, Max," you smiled, kissing him again. "But promise me you'll always be careful out there. I worry about you more than you know."
Max nodded, his expression softening. "I promise. Your support means the world to me, and I don’t want to ever let you down. Just knowing you're here, it keeps me grounded and focused."
Max finished quickly enough with his media duties, and soon the two of you were heading home. The drive was quiet but comfortable, each of you lost in your thoughts.
The adrenaline from the race still buzzed in Max's veins, while you reflected on the whirlwind of emotions you had experienced throughout the day.
As the city lights blurred past the car windows, you reached over and squeezed Max’s hand, silently conveying your support and love.
Once you arrived home, the exhaustion from the day's events began to set in. Max headed for a quick shower while you prepared a light dinner, the comforting routine of home life easing the lingering tension.
Sitting down to eat, you both shared the highlights of the day, laughing about the little moments that stood out.
Despite the challenges, you felt a sense of contentment, knowing that you could face anything as long as you were together.
But amidst the laughter and conversation, you couldn't ignore the dull, persistent pain in your head. It had been creeping up on you throughout the day, but you'd pushed it aside, focusing on Max and his triumph.
Now, in the quiet of your home, it was harder to ignore. You rubbed your temples, trying to alleviate the discomfort without drawing attention to it.
Max noticed your subtle wince and reached across the table, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
You forced a smile and nodded, not wanting to dampen his spirits. "Just a headache," you replied, hoping it would pass soon. Max squeezed your hand reassuringly.
"Why don't you rest? I'll take care of everything tonight," he suggested.
Grateful for his understanding, you agreed, hoping that a good night's sleep would finally chase away the pain. . . .
Sunday dawned with a heavy sense of malaise, the worst of the four days you had been feeling under the weather. Despite the fatigue weighing down your limbs and the persistent ache in your head, the allure of the Grand Prix was too strong to resist.
You were determined to be there, to stand by Max’s side as he raced, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you could muster.
The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a warm glow that made you feel slightly better, prompting you to choose a light outfit that would keep you comfortable throughout the day.
You slipped into a breezy white sundress that danced around your knees, paired with a denim jacket that added a touch of casual flair. The outfit was completed with your favorite sneakers, perfect for navigating the bustling paddock.
As you and Max prepared for the day ahead, you could sense his concern. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
You flashed him a reassuring smile, determined to mask your discomfort. “I’m fine, really! Just a little tired. I think I’ll grab something to eat in the hospitality room later,” you replied, hoping to deflect his attention.
The truth was, you had no intention of eating; the thought of food made your stomach churn. You just wanted to be there for him, to soak in the atmosphere and support him as he took on the challenges of the race.
Max nodded, though you could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
With a quick kiss on his cheek, you left Max to focus on the data and the car, knowing he needed to concentrate.
As you wandered through the paddock, the excitement of the day began to lift your spirits. The sounds of engines revving and the chatter of the team filled the air, creating an electric atmosphere that was hard to resist.
You spotted a few familiar faces and exchanged greetings, all while keeping your energy up with the adrenaline of the event.
Even though you were battling your own discomfort, the thrill of the Grand Prix and the chance to support Max made it all worthwhile. You were determined to be his biggest cheerleader, no matter how you felt inside.
You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, wishing him all the luck in the world before he sped off to the starting line. The roar of engines and the cheers of the crowd filled the air, but your mind was elsewhere, tangled in a web of anxiety and pain.
You decided to immerse yourself in the excitement of the race, hoping that the adrenaline of the event would distract you from the turmoil brewing inside.
"Just focus on the race," you whispered to yourself, trying to drown out the nagging thoughts that threatened to overwhelm you.
As the laps dwindled down and the finish line approached, you could feel the weight of your discomfort intensifying. The vibrant atmosphere that once thrilled you now felt suffocating, and the cheers of the crowd morphed into a cacophony that only heightened your unease.
"I can't do this," you muttered under your breath, glancing around at the sea of faces, all caught up in the excitement.
With a heavy heart, you made the decision to escape the throng of spectators and seek solace in Max's driver’s room. The thought of being alone with your thoughts was daunting, but the idea of staying in the crowd felt unbearable.
As you navigated through the bustling crowd, a wave of dizziness washed over you, and the world around you began to spin.
You stumbled slightly, clutching your head as you fought to maintain your balance. "I need to sit down," you gasped, feeling lightheaded and weak.
In a moment of desperation, you pulled out your phone and quickly typed a message to a friend who could help.
Help me please
You sent, your fingers trembling as you pressed send.
Just as you turned to make your way to safety, the room tilted dangerously, and you felt yourself slipping into darkness, the last thing you heard was the distant roar of the crowd fading away. . . .
Alexandra was caught up in the excitement of the race, her heart swelling with pride as she cheered for her boyfriend, who had just crossed the finish line in a commendable second place.
The crowd erupted in applause, but amidst the celebration, she finally glanced at her phone, her heart dropping as she read your urgent message.
"Oh no, what happened?" she muttered under her breath, her eyes darting through the throng of spectators. She quickly navigated her way through the sea of bodies, her heart racing not just from the thrill of the race but from the growing concern for you.
As she checked the map on her phone, she cursed herself for not being more attentive. "Ten minutes ago? Why didn’t I check sooner?" she thought, panic rising in her chest.
The message had been clear, a cry for help that she had missed in the excitement of the moment.
She also knew that your boyfriend wasn't going to take the news lightly, winning today's grand prix or not. He had always been fiercely protective of you, and knowing that you were in distress would undoubtedly overshadow his hard-earned victory.
Alexandra quickened her pace, anxiety gnawing at her as she hoped to find you safe and sound. The celebration, the cheers, and the victory now seemed like distant echoes compared to the urgency of locating you.
Racing through the crowd, she could almost feel the weight of your boyfriend’s impending reaction.
She knew he’d drop everything to be by your side, and the thought of seeing his worried face spurred her on even more.
As she approached the driver's room, her heart pounded in her chest, both from the exertion and the fear of what she might find. "Please be okay," she whispered to herself, pushing open the door and scanning the room frantically. . . .
Max, meanwhile, was reveling in his recent triumph, completing laps around the track with a sense of elation that only victory could bring. The cheers of the crowd echoed in his ears, but that joy was abruptly interrupted by a crackling voice over the radio.
"Max, I hate to break your celebration, but we have a situation with Y/N," the voice said, laced with concern. Max's heart raced as he slowed his pace, his mind racing with worry.
"What’s going on?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he made his way toward the podium, where the top three racers were set to be honored.
The thought of anything happening to you sent a chill down his spine, and he could feel the adrenaline shifting from the thrill of victory to a deep-seated anxiety.
"Someone will be waiting to take you to the infirmary as soon as you get out of the car," the voice continued, and Max's stomach dropped.
"Infirmary? What do you mean? Is Y/N okay?" he pressed, urgency lacing his tone.
The radio crackled again, but all he could think about was you, hoping you were alright. As he reached the podium, the cheers of the crowd faded into the background, replaced by a singular focus on getting to you as quickly as possible.
The celebration felt distant now; all that mattered was ensuring your safety.
He could barely hear the announcer calling his name, the accolades and applause blurring into a haze as he focused solely on getting to you as quickly as possible.
The moment he brought the car to a halt, a sense of urgency surged through him. He dashed toward the infirmary, his familiarity with the winding corridors and the scent of antiseptic guiding his hurried steps.
Today was supposed to be a day of celebration, a podium ceremony that he had anticipated for days but instead, his heart raced with concern for you.
He never imagined that he would find himself rushing to the infirmary under such distressing circumstances, especially not because of you.
As he pushed open the door, the sight that greeted him was both alarming and heart-wrenching. There you were, sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, looking pale and disoriented, an ice pack pressed against your forehead.
Alexandra was by your side, her grip firm around your hand, her expression a mix of worry and relief. The moment their eyes met, Alexandra's face lit up with a glimmer of hope.
"Thank goodness you're here!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling slightly.
"Has the podium ceremony ended?" she asked, her concern for you momentarily overshadowing the event they had both been looking forward to.
He shook his head, his focus solely on you. "That doesn't matter right now. What happened?" he pressed, his voice steady but laced with urgency.
Alexandra took a deep breath, her eyes darting between him and you. "She was unconscious when I found her in your driver's room," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.
The weight of her words hung in the air, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "Unconscious? How long was she out?" he asked, his heart racing as he moved closer to you, desperate to see you recover.
Alexandra's eyes filled with concern as she replied, "Around 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity."
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, determined to be there for you in this moment of vulnerability.
The doctor leaned against the doorframe, his expression serious as he relayed the news.
"She collapsed earlier today, and the primary reason appears to be a high fever. Did you notice any symptoms before this happened?" he inquired, his gaze shifting to him with an intensity that made him squirm.
"No, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of guilt settled heavily on his shoulders, a suffocating reminder of the moments he had overlooked.
He replayed the last few days in his mind, recalling how you had seemed a bit off during their meals together. He should have insisted you see a doctor, should have been more vigilant, but instead, he had brushed it off, thinking it was just fatigue.
"Max?" The soft voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see your eyes fluttering open.
Relief washed over him, but it was quickly overshadowed by the nagging feeling of regret. "I didn’t realize you were awake," he admitted, his heart racing as he took in your pale complexion.
You offered a weak smile, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside him.
Just then, Alexandra stood up from her seat, her presence a welcome distraction. "I’ll go inform the team about your condition," she said, her tone warm.
"Thanks, Alex," he replied, his eyes still fixed on you, unwilling to look away even for a moment. He wanted to be there for you, to make sure you knew you weren't alone in this.
As Alexandra stepped out, the silence in the room felt heavy, punctuated only by the soft beeping of the machines around them. He leaned closer, his voice low and filled with concern.
"You scared me back there. I should have noticed something was wrong," he confessed, his heart aching with the weight of his unspoken fears.
You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand, a small gesture that spoke volumes.
"It’s okay, Max. I didn’t realize it either," you reassured him, your voice soft but steady.
He could see the strength in your eyes, a flicker of resilience that made him admire you even more.
In that moment, he vowed to never let his guard down again, to always be attentive to the signs, no matter how subtle they might be.
"Did you win?" you inquired, your curiosity evident in your tone.
Max's face lit up with a grin as he replied, "Absolutely, schatje, I won just for you."
Your gaze drifted down to his chest, where you noticed the absence of a medal that should have been proudly displayed.
A sense of unease crept in as you asked, "You didn’t attend the medal ceremony, did you?" The moment the words left your lips, you could see the color drain from his face, and beads of sweat began to form on his brow.
"You were far too important to me! I had to find out why you were in the infirmary," Max stammered, his voice tinged with a mix of anxiety and determination. You could tell he was trying to justify his decision, but the weight of his choice hung heavily in the air.
"Max, you realize you could face a fine for skipping out on the ceremony, right?" you pressed, your concern for him mingling with frustration.
He shook his head defiantly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I don’t care about that! Knowing you’re okay is worth more than any medal or ceremony," he declared, his stubbornness shining through.
You let out a sigh, a blend of exasperation and affection swirling within you. "You really need to take care of yourself too, you know," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Max stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached out to take your hand.
"I promise, I’ll make it up to you. Just seeing you here, safe and sound, is the only victory I need," he replied earnestly.
The warmth of his grip enveloped you, and in that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you and the unspoken bond that tied your hearts together.
"You mean everything to me; I’d choose you every time," he murmured, and at that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the bond forged through both sacrifice and a shared understanding.
As the tension in the room began to ease, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. The connection sparked something deeper, and without thinking, you leaned in and shared a soft kiss.
It was a moment that transcended the worries of the world outside, a promise that you were both in this together.
"I am kind of glad you came," you whispered against his lips, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you.
Max smiled, his expression softening as he replied, "I’ll always be here for you, no matter what."
As the moment hung in the air, you felt the warmth of Max's lips against yours, a spark igniting between you. He leaned in closer, his hands exploring the contours of your body, sending shivers down your spine.
The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, as if the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble.
It was a moment that felt both exhilarating and electric, a perfect blend of desire and connection that made your heart race.
Suddenly, the reality of the situation broke through the haze of your emotions. You pulled back slightly, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you looked into Max's eyes.
"Alright, enough of that! You need to go get your trophy, or else you might end up starting something you can't stop!" you teased, giving him a gentle push away.
The playful banter was a familiar rhythm between you, a dance of flirtation that always left you both wanting more.
Max chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he took a step back, clearly reluctant to leave the moment behind.
"See you after, schatje!" he called out, a wide grin spreading across his face as he made his way to the door. The way he said your name sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the thought of what was to come.
As he opened the door, you watched him go, your heart still racing from the kiss.
You knew that this was just the beginning of an adventure that would unfold in the hours to come, filled with laughter, challenges, and perhaps even more stolen moments like the one you just shared. . . .
#max verstappen fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc#formula one#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max x reader#mad max#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fluff#mv33#mv#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 x you#red bull racing#mv1 x y/n#mv33 x reader#mv33 fic#mv33 imagine#mv33 x you#sp11
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⊹ Candles [reversed] ⊹
since it's my birthday, I wanted to do a little special self-indulgence, so here's this! || 2.k || written with poly!Mc in mind + our son Luke
4 am
Early in the morning, before the faux light has even spread across the Devildom, Mammon is in your bed. He’s pushed his way through your door, half asleep himself, stumbled over and climbed underneath your covers (that he swears are softer than his), and has pulled you into his arms.
Every year, he insists on being the first person to wish you a Happy Birthday, and if not that, then the first who gets to tell you in person— so he's found that coming to your room before the day even begins gets him his title of ‘first’ and gives him alone time with you.
It’s much too early to be awake right now, so he’s content with falling back to sleep with you. His body is in complete contact with yours and he sleepily swears not to let go because he loves you too much.
5 am
An hour later, or maybe even less than, Asmo comes to sneak you from his brother’s grasp, gently hauling your barely conscious frame to his room. He wants you to keep getting as much beauty sleep as you can, but he still wants to start getting you ready for your big day!
Of course, Azzy’s been planning this for weeks, so he has everything prepared and laid out. His alone time with you consists of him lowering you into the steaming bath and massaging you well, scrubbing your hair and body until you’re squeaky clean and practically shining, before toweling you off and dressing you in the clothes he’d set aside.
Your skin care is done and your hair is fixed flawlessly, nails cut, filed, and painted; everything is all done up by the man himself and he tops it all off with excited kisses and pictures now that you’re [mostly] awake.
6 am
After you’re ready for the day, Lucifer takes over and hides you away in his study, selfishly holding you on his lap as you both drink coffee to get properly started. The drink is as bitter as ever, lips glossy with the remnants of it as you both chat quietly.
He’s your soft start to the day, the calm before the lovable chaos, and the first born makes sure to whisper sweet words alongside the comforting crackle of the fireplace. His hour of alone time is lazy and physical, because he can’t go more than a few seconds without running his gloved hands over you.
If anything, he’s unwilling to let you go, but Lucifer knows it would throw a wrench into the day’s layout and cause more fuss than necessary— plus, he has some things to do before tonight, so he’ll let you go with a slow kiss.
7 am
You’re handed over into Beelzebub’s capable hands, ensured to be served with a filling breakfast. He’s more than excited to show you what he, personally, cooked for you (even if there are just a few bites out of some of it). His cheeks are stuffed and a cute little smile is spread across his cheeks as he points to all the things on your plate.
When your plate is spotless, and your tummy is full but not too full, Beel guides you on a small little walk around the house corridors to make sure you digest properly. He’s still eating, of course, but his pleased hums are filling the air comfortably, making for a nice atmosphere.
Your little walk ends at the entrance hall, where he bids you goodbye with a cozy little hug, and a promise that you’ll love every second of your special day.
8 am
With a hand at the small of your back, Satan leads you out of the house and straight to a bookstore, wanting to keep a slow start to the long day. With it having just opened, only the two of you and a few others are inside, giving plenty of room to stroll and browse (and goof around).
He points out things you’ve had your eye on, new editions that weren’t there the previous visit, or special copies that were for limited time. The fourth born wants at least two books in your hand and a little collectible maybe- or a bookmark. Can’t have too many.
Once he’s spoiled you a little, and after you’ve both pet the local cats outside, he’s reluctantly handing you over with a lingering kiss to your hand, and a promise to read one of your books together soon.
9 am
Levi took his place, fingers lacing with yours, as he raved about a nearby anime store, gushing over the items he saw online that reminded him of you. By the time you get there, you know every section that’s going to be inside, yet it’s still exciting as you get pulled in.
You both get lost in the cool merch, having to wave your hands over the stands or jump in place to find each other occasionally, but end up staying side by side for the most part, whisper-shouting with big smiles.
Leaving the store, there is a pretty good sized bag on your and his arm, but he couldn’t be more thrilled about the lightness of his wallet since he got to spend money on you. He takes your bag, and your previous bag, in a promise to tuck them safely in your room, before giving you a location.
10 am
Waiting for you outside of a small little amusement park is Diavolo, who is positively beaming in anticipation. He’s already got two colorful wristbands in hand, which he latches around your wrist, and lets you do the same to him, before heading inside.
There are rides of all kinds and he lets you choose each one of them, pointing out ones he thinks you’ll like as you pass. You play a few booth games, getting a pretty flame salamander plushie as a prize, or totally failing and having a good laugh.
His only request is the photo booth, which you both do two different times, to get a silly border and a normal border. He pouts a little as he walks you out, assuring you’d see him later, before leading you a few blocks back into the townsquare.
11 am
For lunch, Simeon takes you off the paths and to a somewhat secluded gazebo, where a sweet little picnic was spread out; celestial realm dishes were rationed onto baby blue plates, two shiny cups on either side, with polished silverware.
The breeze is just right as the two of you eat, chatting and sitting closer than usual. Butterflies go by, and your eyes follow, as you both take turns pointing out different kinds you see and what flowers they seem to like better.
You take your time neatly packing everything up, fingers brushing and shoulders bumping, before he parts with a, dare you say it, angelic kiss to your forehead.
12 pm
Luke, naturally, is in charge of dessert, promising a light, yet satisfying, treat as he leads you down the sidewalk and into a cute looking bakery. He wants you to save room for the many things that were cooked and baked for your party, so he gets a little pile of oreo balls and other small things like that.
He holds nothing back as he tells you how happy he is to be spending your birthday with you, how he’s so very glad he met you, and anything else along those lines. He has to get them all out now, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to later!
The sweet angel is nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he leads you to your next location, waving excitedly as he promises to help make your party one of a kind.
1 pm
You’re actually given to Raphael next, who’s standing outside of a library with that barely perceptible smile on his face. He explains that he wanted somewhere quiet and cozy to wind down with you, suggesting that you shouldn’t do too much before the big celebration.
The very back corner of the library becomes yours for now, complete with a pretty view of swaying trees. The archangel almost shyly asks if you’d sit closer, loosely holding your hand as he begins reading to you.
He stalls a bit at the end, toying with your fingers, before telling you that he’ll see you later…but he’d like to do this again, sometime, okay?
2 pm
Hocus Pocus becomes your next destination, Solomon wasting no time in wrapping an arm around you as you browse the store. It’s slow and unhurried and drawn out as he talks about certain items, explaining a few origins, and listens to how your day’s been so far.
He dabbles a bit in glittery, washable, body paint, joyously painting random shapes onto your skin (even rolling his sleeves up so you could return the favor). The sorcerer makes it a point to paint his name along your wrist, taking a picture of it, before helping you wash it all off.
With a quick spell, he takes away any aching your feet might have, or any sort of headache, teasingly kissing at your jaw, before wagging his fingers as he teleports you somewhere new.
3 pm
A familiar shade of gold greets you as you're sent sprawling out onto the Castle’s floors. Barbatos chuckles and chides Solomon’s delivery as he helps you up, dusting you off gently. He makes sure you’re alright, boldly carrying you anyway, regardless of your answer.
A soothing, palate cleansing, tea spread is set out on the table as he settles you into the chair, pouring it as delicately as ever, before joining you. Instead of adjacent, he sits beside you, eagerly listening to anything you have to say.
He may or may not cheat time, prolonging his alone time with you just a little, unwilling to let you go now that you both finally have a minute together. He does have much to get done still, however, and with a [deep] kiss, he politely escorts you through one of his portals.
4 pm
In the heart of the forest, amongst a wave of flowers, lies Belphie. He’s not asleep, but it’s clear he’s just woken up, as he gestures for you to come lay down, offering a peaceful break.
Instead of star gazing like usual, he settles for cloud gazing, lazily pointing up and whispering descriptions here and there. It’s serene and quiet and, in his opinion, the perfect way to kill time.
While he doesn’t want to get up, he does at least hug you and nuzzle close in a send off, watching you go, before flopping back down.
5 pm
Mephisto is more than ready, and honored, to be the one escorting you to your big birthday bash. He takes you on the long path through the forest, deciding that if the others got time alone, surely he could have his own slot, too.
He keeps close, talking about daily matters, continuing to take small detours as you both make your way through the Devildom. His eyes don’t leave your face much at all as he basks in the moment.
With a grand, flourishing gesture, he officially announces your arrival, and presents you to your birthday party!
6 pm
Confetti, balloons, changing led lights, and glitter are everywhere. There’s a long table with many presents littering the surface, and another one next to it with small party snacks and desserts. Music plays faint in the background, not really needed over the fun and chaos that comes from the party games picked out, or from the karaoke.
When the time comes, a cake as astonishing as the previous ones is brought out and magically lit up prettily. Voices harmonize as they all sing you happy birthday , none being able to fight the smile on their faces, but…you couldn’t either.
And as you circled around the cake, blowing out each of your candles, you wished for what you did every year since coming here: to always be able to stay with your boys.
With cake and presents over, it delves into more chaos as they all argue over a) who you’re going home with tonight (and that it would be no fair if Mephisto took you, since he’d have you alone), and b) if you went home with a group, who’s room you would be staying in (Solomon taunted Mammon so much, you swore he’d blow a gasket).
Oh, yeah. You loved them to death.
#obey me x reader#om x reader#om drabbles#obey me drabbles#lucifer x reader#om lucifer#mammon x reader#om mammon#leviathan x reader#om levi#satan x reader#om satan#asmodeus x reader#om asmo#beel x reader#om beelzebub#belphie x reader#om belphegor#solomon x reader#om solomon#obey me simeon x reader#om simeon#om luke x reader#mephisto x reader#om mephistopheles#diavolo x reader#om diavolo#barbatos x reader#om barbatos#om raphael
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house warming (k.mg)
☆。.:*·゚wc 756 smut ౨ৎ men DNI ˚⁺。˚ ୨୧ mingyu x fem!reader, established relationship, cockwarming [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]
you really should have planned better.
it was like everything that could possibly go wrong did. you imagined that by now you would be wrapped up in a large, cozy comforter nestled on your cloud soft king size bed in your already furnished new house. but the movers got the wrong date down, so now your house was bare save for the mess of cardboard boxes in every room and the lumpy air mattress in the middle of your lonely bedroom.
the room lacked the warmth you had hoped for, and the chilly air seeped through the gaps. and to make matters worse, you found out that your heater was broken, in the dead of winter.
it was too much to manage in one night, so you decided to unpack your closet and go to sleep. everything else was tomorrow’s problem.
but in the middle of the night, you stir awake, a kink in your neck reminding you of your less than ideal sleeping arrangement. you turn to the man lying beside you, who is restlessly moving around.
“what are you doing?” you groggily snap at him.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “”i’m just really cold.”
“there are extra blankets in the closet, i think.” you suggest, rolling over, trying to lull yourself back to sleep.
“i wanna feel you, baby.” he whispers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. you roll away from him, more focused on checking your phone, causing him to emit a low groan.
“no, baby, come back here.” he pleads, drawing out the last syllable of his sentence.
“mingyu, it’s two in the morning.” you retort, the harsh blue glow of your phone illuminating the room’s bare bones.
“i’m so cold,” he whines again, pulling the comforter over the two of you.
“baby, check in the closet for extra blankets.”
“but you’re so warm here,” he pulls you closer to him. he snuggles into your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
“god, we need to call a repair person to fix that stupid heater,” you groan when you think about everything that you need to do.
“we can do that in the morning,” he says, as he traces kisses along your jawline to your neck. “but in the meantime, we can keep each other warm.”
“mingyu, babe, i’m so tired, and the movers are coming at ten and we still have so much to do.”
“baby, baby,” he shushes you, wrapping you in his arms. “just relax.”
“i’m trying to go back to sleep.”
“please,” mingyu begs. “baby, it’s cold outside. i just want to feel your warmth.” you feel a shiver down your spine when he begins to nibble on your ear. “you don’t have to do anything, i just wanna be inside you.”
he slides your sweatpants down. slowly guiding his cock to your entrance, he rubs it up and down your slit. his tip pokes around your entrance and you push your hips back, encouraging him to enter into your tight cunt. his hands grip your hips tightly, his face screwing up in pleasure as he slowly pushes. you suck your breath as he bottoms out. “sorry,” he mumbles.
“it’s fine,” you sigh, melting into his embrace. mingyu, still mumbling sorries, moves around until he finally feels comfortable. when he does, his head returns to the nook of your neck. the two of you lie with your figures entwined, your limbs interwoven in an affectionate dance. your head rests against his chest, his heartbeat beneath you serving as a lullaby. his cold hands slide underneath your sweatshirt, and you clench around him.
“fuck,” he groans lowly and now it’s your turn to profusely apologize. “it’s fine, honey, just give me a moment to calm down.” you give him a moment before you place your hands on top of his arms where they rested at your waist. this was supposed to be an innocent moment – as innocent as it could be. it was supposed to be an opportunity to feel close to each other, but, as you’d expect with your boyfriend, innocence seemed to take a backseat to a different kind of intimacy.
slowly he rocks his hips against yours, prompting a soft moan to escape from your lips. “gyu,” you warn him slightly, but he ignores you, his hands slipping down to your hips to pull you closer to him. “what happened to “i just want to feel you”?”
“m sorry,” he moans out, “you know i can’t help it. you just feel so good.”
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#fay's works#mingyu#kim mingyu#mingyu x reader#mingyu smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#kim mingyu smut
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Here for each other - enhypen
-Having each other backs at hardships
#beliftletenhypenrest
I got to carried away and made this long but oh well
Lee heeseung - 이희승
There for him
Heeseung’s schedule had been relentless lately, filled with nonstop trips to events, concerts, and promotions. You could see the toll it was taking on him, even through the screen of your phone during your late-night chats. At first, you both tried to keep up with the conversations, but as time went on, it became harder for him to focus on anything other than his work. He was exhausted, and you understood. You knew what you signed up for when you started dating him, so you never complained, even though you missed him terribly.
It had been days since you last heard from him when, late one night, you were startled awake by the sound of your bedroom door quietly creaking open. You turned over in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and saw a familiar figure entering your room. It was Heeseung.
He looked exhausted, far more than you’d ever seen him before. His eyes were shut tightly, his lips slightly parted as he made his way to your bed and collapsed next to you. It was so unlike him to show up unannounced, especially at your parents’ house, but it seemed like he didn’t care. He just needed to be with you.
You were startled by his sudden appearance, but when you saw the soft tears slipping from the corners of his closed eyes, your heart broke. Heeseung wasn’t one to cry, especially not in front of others, and seeing him like this shattered you.
You reached out, gently whispering his name, “Heeseung?” But he didn’t respond. He was completely passed out, too drained to even notice he was crying in his sleep.
You knew better than to wake him. Instead, you carefully began taking care of him, hoping to ease some of the burdens he carried. You started by slipping off his shoes, wincing at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes and the tension in his face. Next, you wiped away the tears on his cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt, gently brushing your fingers over his skin.
Heeseung’s breathing slowly began to even out, but the worry on his face remained. You removed his jacket, peeling it off his tired frame with as much care as you could manage. With each piece of clothing you removed, his body seemed to relax just a little more, the lines of stress gradually fading from his features.
Finally, when he looked more at peace, you took his face in your hands and guided it to rest in the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and you could feel the exhaustion radiating off of him.
You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, murmuring softly, “It’s okay, Heeseung. I’m here. Just rest.”
As if hearing your words in his sleep, Heeseung’s body seemed to melt against yours. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close as he finally found some semblance of comfort.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding him and whispering soothing words into his hair. The weight of his stress was palpable, but knowing you could provide him with a small moment of peace was enough.
Eventually, you drifted off to sleep as well, your hands still tangled in his hair, and your heart heavy with love and worry. You knew this wouldn’t be easy, but as long as you had moments like these, you were willing to endure it all for him.
Here for you
The room felt suffocating, the once cozy space now overwhelmed by the chaos of packing. Boxes were scattered everywhere, and clothes were piled high, waiting to be folded and placed away. You were supposed to be packing, but instead, you found yourself lying in the middle of the mess, the weight of the world pressing down on your chest. The thought of leaving your parents' house, the place where you’d grown up, where every corner held a memory, was too much to bear. It was like a part of you was being left behind, and the realization made your heart ache.
You lay there, eyes shut tightly, trying to calm the storm of thoughts in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you could almost smell the scent of your mom’s cooking drifting up from the kitchen, and the faint sound of your dad’s laughter echoed in your ears. Memories of every moment spent in this room, from your childhood to now, flashed before your eyes. The sleepovers, the late-night talks, the tears, the laughter—it all played like a movie in your head, making it even harder to let go.
Just as the emotions began to overwhelm you, you heard the door quietly creak open. Heeseung stepped into the room, his eyes immediately finding you lying amidst the pile of clothes. His heart clenched at the sight of you, looking so small and lost in the chaos. Without a word, he walked over and lay down beside you, his presence comforting and familiar.
You didn’t move, not even when he reached for your hand. Heeseung held it gently, bringing it close to his lips as he pressed soft, reassuring kisses to your knuckles. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you kept them shut, afraid that if you opened them, the tears would spill over. Heeseung didn’t push you to talk. Instead, he continued to hold your hand, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of it, grounding you in the moment.
“It’s a big change,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “But you’re not alone. You’re strong, and you’ve got so many people who love you, who are here for you. And it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”
His words were like a balm to your aching heart, easing the tightness in your chest. You turned your head slightly, finally opening your eyes to look at him. His face was so close, his eyes filled with understanding and love. Heeseung leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.
“We’re going to get through this together,” he promised, his breath warm against your skin. “You don’t have to do it all at once. Just take it one step at a time, and when it gets too much, I’ll be right here, okay?”
You nodded slightly, feeling the first real sense of relief you’d had all day. Without thinking, you shifted closer to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. Heeseung wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the worries that plagued your mind.
For a long time, neither of you moved. The world outside your room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment of quiet comfort. You wished you could freeze this scene, to hold onto the feeling of safety and love that Heeseung gave you. It was a moment you wanted to save in your mind, to return to whenever the weight of the world felt too heavy.
Eventually, the stress that had been suffocating you began to lift, replaced by a calm that only Heeseung could bring. You knew that the journey ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with him by your side, you felt like you could face anything.
And as you lay there, snuggled up together amidst the chaos, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
Park jongseong - 박종성
There for him
Jay had always been the rock, the strong one, the one who everyone leaned on. He carried the weight of his responsibilities with a steady hand, always projecting confidence and control. But lately, that weight had become unbearable. His packed schedule, the constant pressure, the never-ending demands of his job as an artist—it all began to chip away at the armor he’d carefully constructed.
You knew something was wrong. You saw it in the way he moved, in the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. But Jay was stubborn, and he hated feeling weak. He refused to admit that anything was wrong, refused to show any cracks in his facade. So, you gave him space, hoping that he would come to you when he was ready. But days passed, and he still didn’t open up, not even once.
Then, one evening, you received a text from Jungwon. Jay’s been isolating himself. I’m worried about him. That was all it took for you to know that you had to step in. Jay might not ask for help, but you weren’t going to let him drown in his own struggles.
You quickly made your way to the dorm, your heart heavy with worry. When you arrived, you knocked softly on Jay’s door, waiting for a response. There was none. The silence was thick, almost suffocating. Slowly, you opened the door, your eyes immediately landing on Jay, sitting on the cold floor. His head was bowed, his hands clutched around something familiar—his guitar. But it was broken, the neck snapped clean off, pieces of it scattered across the floor.
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight. Jay’s guitar was his prized possession, an extension of himself. Seeing it in pieces was a clear sign that he had reached his breaking point.
He looked up at you, his eyes red and tired. “I don’t know how it broke. I mean, I broke it, but I don’t know how I broke it,” he mumbled, his voice weak and shaky. He was trying to make sense of it, trying to find the words, but they came out disjointed, reflecting the chaos inside him.
You didn’t need him to explain. You didn’t need to hear the words to understand what he was feeling. It was written all over his face, in the way his shoulders slumped, in the emptiness in his eyes. He was done. He had given all he could, and there was nothing left.
Without a word, you crossed the room and sat down beside him on the floor. The coldness of the floor seeped through your clothes, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was Jay. You reached out, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. At first, he stiffened, resisting the comfort you were offering, but you held on, refusing to let go.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice steady and soothing. “You don’t have to do this alone, Jay. I’m here.”
He didn’t respond right away, his body still tense against yours. But slowly, you felt him begin to give in, the walls he had built up starting to crumble. His hands, which had been clenched tightly around the broken pieces of his guitar, slowly released their grip. He let go of the shattered wood and instead, his fingers found their way to you, intertwining with your skin as if grounding himself in your presence.
And then, finally, he broke. The tears he had been holding back for so long started to fall, silent at first, then with deep, shuddering breaths. He buried his face in your shoulder, his body shaking as the emotions he had been suppressing came rushing out all at once.
You held him tighter, pressing your cheek against his hair, murmuring soft words of comfort. “You’re not alone, Jay. I’ve got you. It’s okay to let it out.”
For what felt like hours, you stayed like that, holding him as he released the pain, frustration, and exhaustion that had been eating away at him. You didn’t let go, not even when your legs began to cramp from sitting on the hard floor. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Jay was finally letting you in, finally letting you see the parts of him he usually kept hidden.
Eventually, the sobs subsided, and Jay’s breathing began to even out. His grip on you loosened, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away.
You stroked his hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so proud of you, Jay,” you whispered. “You’ve been so strong for everyone else, but it’s okay to let someone be strong for you too.”
He didn’t say anything, but you felt the slight nod of his head against your shoulder. The weight of the world had been lifted, even if just a little, and you knew that from this moment on, you would be there to help him carry it.
Here for you
The past week had been nothing short of a nightmare. What was supposed to be a family reunion had turned into a harsh reminder of the disdain your father's side of the family held for your mother—and by extension, for you. The judgments, the shady comments, the pointed looks—it all left you feeling like you were drowning in a sea of resentment. You had always known there was tension, but the way they treated you, like you were an outsider, an unwelcome reminder of your father's defiance, broke something inside you. You loved your mom fiercely, but you couldn't shake the anger and frustration at how she had quietly endured all of it, how she had let them walk all over her and, by extension, you.
When you returned home, you couldn’t face anyone. Not your friends, not your boyfriend, not even yourself. The weight of the entire week settled on your shoulders like a heavy cloak, dragging you down into a pit of isolation. You shut yourself off from the world, not wanting to burden anyone with the pain you were feeling. After all, you had inherited that same trait from Jay—both of you carried your burdens alone, unwilling to share your sorrows with even the people closest to you.
But Nudsie, your best friend, knew you too well. She knew something was wrong, and when you wouldn’t talk to her, she called Jay, worry lacing her voice. Jay didn’t waste a second. He rushed over to your place, heart pounding in his chest, not knowing what to expect but fearing the worst.
When he arrived, the sight that greeted him made his heart drop into his stomach. You were sitting on the floor, barefoot, surrounded by shattered glass. The coffee table had been upended, and the broken pieces of a glass vase were scattered around you. You looked so small, so fragile, sitting there in the middle of the wreckage, your face streaked with tears and frustration. Jay’s breath caught in his throat. He could see the anguish in your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped under the weight of everything you’d been carrying.
Without a word, he moved quickly, his concern overriding everything else. He scooped you up from the floor, his arms strong and steady as he lifted you away from the mess. His heart ached at the sight of you, so defeated and broken. You didn’t resist, didn’t say a word. You just let him carry you, the exhaustion of the past week making it impossible to fight back.
Jay carried you to the couch, sitting down with you in his lap, cradling you as if you were made of glass yourself. He didn’t ask what happened; he didn’t need to. He knew you, knew your body language, knew the signs of someone who had been through hell and back. And he could see it in your eyes, the storm of emotions that you had been bottling up, the anger, the frustration, the hurt—all of it swirling inside you, threatening to consume you.
He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, as if he could shield you from the world. His chin rested on top of your head, and he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent, grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him. You melted into his embrace, the tension in your body slowly ebbing away as the dam you had built around your emotions finally broke.
The tears came then, silently at first, then in a rush of sobs that shook your whole body. Jay’s hold on you tightened, his hands gently rubbing your back, his voice murmuring soft words of comfort, even if they were more for him than for you. He hated seeing you like this, hated that you had gone through so much pain and that you had felt like you had to face it alone.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt, holding on as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. And in that moment, he was. He was your anchor, your safe harbor in the storm of emotions that had been threatening to drown you.
Jay didn’t let go, even as your sobs began to quiet down, even as your breathing slowed and the exhaustion finally took over. He stayed right there, holding you close, his cheek resting against your head, his heart breaking for you. He wished he could take away your pain, wished he could erase the hurt that your family had caused you. But all he could do was be there, holding you, loving you, letting you know that you weren’t alone.
And as you finally drifted off into a fitful sleep, your tears soaking into his shirt, Jay continued to hold you, vowing to himself that he would be your strength when you had none left. Because no matter what, he would always be there for you, just as you had always been there for him.
Sim jaeyun - 심재윤
There for him
The room was quiet, the soft hum of the night providing a peaceful background as you and Jake slept side by side. The weight of the day’s exhaustion had pulled you both into a deep sleep, but something pulled you back from your dreams. A faint sound—a soft, labored breath—disrupted the calm. You opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep, and turned toward Jake.
In the dim light, you saw him lying on his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His face was tight with strain, his eyes darting beneath his closed lids, his lips parted as he let out shallow, frantic breaths. Your heart sank as realization hit you—Jake was having another episode of sleep paralysis.
Ever since his schedule had gotten more intense, his body had struggled to adjust. He’d mentioned how weird it felt to sleep in a bed after spending so much time on flights, and now it seemed that rest was becoming a nightmare for him.
You moved closer to him, your hand gently resting on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm. "Jake," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "It's okay, I'm here."
He didn’t respond, his body still caught in the grip of the paralysis, but you knew that somewhere deep in his mind, he could hear you. You kept your hand on his chest, a steady presence, and began to talk him through it.
"Breathe with me, Jake. Slow down… just focus on my voice." You spoke slowly, calmly, guiding him through the terror that you knew he was experiencing. "You're safe, love. Nothing can hurt you here. Just focus on your breathing."
You watched as his breaths started to slow, his chest rising and falling in a more measured rhythm. His eyes, though still closed, seemed to relax just a bit, the tension in his face easing ever so slightly.
"That's it, Jake. You're doing great. I'm right here with you. You’re safe, just let go… let your body relax."
Your voice was a gentle anchor, pulling him back from the edge. You kept talking, reassuring him, reminding him that he wasn’t alone, that you were there to protect him, to help him through it.
After what felt like an eternity, you saw him begin to stir, his fingers twitching slightly. His breathing slowed to a normal pace, and you felt the tension in his body release as he finally broke free from the paralysis.
His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you with a mix of confusion and fear. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair back from his damp brow. "It’s okay, Jake. You’re okay now."
Jake exhaled deeply, his voice shaky as he whispered, "Thank you… I hate this."
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "I know, love. But I'm here with you, always. You’re not going through this alone."
He nodded, burying his face in the crook of your neck, holding onto you like a lifeline. The fear that had gripped him slowly ebbed away, replaced by the comfort of your embrace.
As you lay there together, you kept whispering reassurances, your hand stroking his back in soothing circles. Eventually, you felt the tension leave his body completely, and he started to drift back to sleep, this time peacefully, with you by his side.
You stayed awake a little longer, holding him close, watching over him to make sure he stayed in a deep, restful sleep. The night resumed its quiet hum, and you knew that, no matter how many times he faced this, you would always be there to guide him back to safety.
Here for you
The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that usually brought peace. But tonight, it felt suffocating. You had just drifted off to sleep, your mind heavy with worry. Your mom hadn’t answered your calls, and though you knew it was just the time zone difference, the anxiety gnawed at you. You missed her voice, the comfort of knowing she was okay. But exhaustion finally won, and you let yourself fall into slumber.
The dream started innocently enough—a familiar scene from your childhood, a memory of a day at the park. But as dreams often do, it twisted, darkening around the edges until it became something else entirely. The park faded, replaced by shadows and a growing sense of dread. You found yourself standing alone in a cold, empty space, searching desperately for something—someone. And then you saw it: the horrifying image of losing your mom, the nightmare that had haunted you for so long.
You tried to wake up, to pull yourself out of it, but you couldn’t. The fear gripped you, sinking its claws into your mind, dragging you deeper into the nightmare. You were trapped, unable to escape the terrifying visions that flashed before you, each one worse than the last. It felt like hours, maybe days, that you were stuck there, reliving your worst fears over and over again.
Then, suddenly, you jolted awake, gasping for air, your heart pounding in your chest. But as soon as you opened your eyes, you realized you weren’t truly awake. You were still dreaming—stuck in a nightmare within a nightmare. Panic set in, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you tried to figure out what was real and what wasn’t.
That’s when you felt it—a warm hand on your arm, gently shaking you, pulling you out of the darkness. “Y/n, wake up. It’s just a dream, love. You’re safe.”
Jake’s voice cut through the terror, a lifeline in the chaos. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, to ground yourself in the reality of his presence. Slowly, the nightmare faded, and you realized you were in your bed, in Jake’s arms. His eyes were filled with concern as he looked down at you, his hand still holding yours tightly.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “You’re okay now. I’m here.”
You didn’t say anything at first, just clung to him, your body trembling with the remnants of fear. Jake wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. “It’s okay,” he repeated, “It’s just a dream.”
But it wasn’t just a dream. It was the same nightmare that had haunted you for so long, the one you couldn’t seem to escape. And now it had come back, stronger than ever. You buried your face in his chest, tears welling up in your eyes. “I-I can’t stop thinking about it,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I’m so scared, Jake. What if something happens to her?”
Jake held you tighter, his hand stroking your hair. “Nothing’s going to happen to her, love. She’s safe, just like you are. And even if she doesn’t answer right away, it’s just because of the time zones. She’s probably asleep.”
You nodded, trying to believe his words, but the fear was still there, lingering at the edges of your mind. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I know it’s silly. Everyone says I overreact, but…”
Jake pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression serious. “It’s not silly,” he said firmly. “Your feelings are valid, baby. I’m here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
His words broke through the fear, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. He understood—truly understood—and he didn’t judge you for it. You nodded again, this time more confidently, and leaned into his embrace.
Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice soft. “We’ll get through this together, okay? You’re not alone.”
With his arms around you, the fear began to fade, replaced by a sense of safety and comfort. You closed your eyes, this time knowing you were awake, and let yourself relax in his embrace. The nightmares might not go away, but with Jake by your side, you knew you could face them. And eventually, you drifted back to sleep, the warmth of his presence keeping the darkness at bay.
Park sunghoon - 박성훈
There for him
Sunghoon had always been the quiet, composed one. In front of others, he wore his strength like armor, keeping his emotions carefully guarded. But with you, all of that melted away. Tonight, after finally finishing the exhausting promotions for his latest comeback, he came home drained. He showered, trying to wash away the stress and fatigue, but the weight of everything still lingered.
He avoided you at first, not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he didn’t trust himself not to break down. He wasn’t planning on crying—he never did, or at least he tried not to. But when he finally saw you, standing there with that gentle, understanding look in your eyes, something in him crumbled.
He hesitated for a moment, shame flickering across his face. Then, almost in a whisper, he asked, “Would you please hold me, please?” His voice was small, like a child seeking comfort after a bad day, and it tugged at your heartstrings.
Without a second thought, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. You didn’t care about anything else—just about being there for him. You pulled him down to your level, hugging him tightly. The moment your arms enveloped him, Sunghoon let out a shaky breath, as if he’d been holding it in for too long.
And then, without hesitation, he hugged you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The strong, silent Sunghoon that everyone knew was gone, replaced by the vulnerable side he only showed to you. His grip on you tightened, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease.
You didn’t say anything, knowing that words weren’t necessary. All he needed was to be held, to be reminded that he wasn’t alone, that he didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders by himself. So you stood there, holding him close, letting him take whatever comfort he needed from you.
As the minutes passed, you felt his breathing start to even out, the last of his walls crumbling away. He didn’t need to be strong all the time—not with you. And in that quiet moment, with nothing but the sound of your heartbeats filling the space, Sunghoon finally allowed himself to let go, knowing that you would always be there to catch him.
Here for you
After the long, grueling work trip, all you wanted was to avoid Sunghoon, knowing that if you saw him, you’d break down completely. The week had been overstimulating, pushing you to your limits, and you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you had to face him. You made it home and managed to dodge him, slipping into the bedroom as quietly as possible.
Just when you thought you’d succeeded, you heard Sunghoon’s voice coming from the entrance. The sound of it, so familiar and comforting, made your heart squeeze in your chest. You quickly scrambled onto the bed, pretending to be asleep, hoping he wouldn’t notice your trembling hands or the tightness in your chest.
“Y/N?” Sunghoon called softly, his voice closer now.
You heard him enter the room, the soft rustle of something in his hand. When you dared to peek through your lashes, you saw him standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers. The sight of them—a small, thoughtful gesture—was enough to send you over the edge. Your eyes welled up, tears spilling over before you could stop them.
Sunghoon noticed immediately. “Y/N…” he began, his voice laced with concern. You quickly shut your eyes again, pretending that the tears were merely a reaction to the flowers. But it was too late. The dam had broken, and your emotions were flooding out uncontrollably.
You tried to smile, to make it seem like you were just moved by the gesture, but Sunghoon knew you better than that. The two of you had taught each other a secret language, one that only you and he understood. He could read you like a book, and no amount of pretending could hide what you were truly feeling.
“This isn’t about the flowers, Y/N,” he said softly, kneeling beside the bed. “What is this about?”
His words were like a key turning in a lock, and without even thinking, you leapt into his arms. The force of your movement caught him off guard, and he stumbled, both of you tumbling onto the floor together. But he didn’t let go. He held onto you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as you clung to him.
“Hold me, Sunghoon,” you muttered, your voice breaking as the tears flowed freely now. “Please hold me.”
And he did. He held you as if his embrace could shield you from everything that had overwhelmed you during the past week. His hands gently stroked your back, his breath warm against your hair as he whispered soothing words, reassuring you that it was okay to let it all out.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the flowers, not the stressful week, not even the fact that you were both lying on the floor. All that mattered was that Sunghoon was there, holding you, grounding you, and reminding you that you didn’t have to face anything alone.
The tears eventually slowed, replaced by the comfort of his presence, and as you lay there in his arms, the weight you’d been carrying began to lift. Sunghoon had always been your safe place, and in his arms, you knew you could finally rest.
Kim sunoo - 김순우
Here for each other
Backstage, you were glued to the monitor, watching Sunoo's performance unfold on the screen. The stage lights danced around him, illuminating his every move, and the audience's cheers filled the air. Sunoo had always been a hard worker, never cutting corners when it came to his health or his performances. He made sure to eat well, sleep well, and practice tirelessly—all to give his best to his fans. You’d seen him put so much into this comeback, promoting his group’s second full album, and yet, through it all, he never lost his adorable, bright spirit.
As you watched him on stage, your emotions began to overwhelm you. The memories of all the nights he’d spent away, the countless hours he’d dedicated to his craft, and the sheer determination he carried with him—it all hit you at once. You felt so incredibly proud of him, so moved by his unwavering dedication. Your heart swelled with pride, but it also ached from missing him during those long stretches of time.
When Sunoo’s performance ended, he came backstage, having been informed by the managers that you were there. The moment he spotted you, your emotions spilled over, and you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. Your eyes turned into a faucet, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to smile at him. Sunoo, always so in tune with your emotions, noticed your tears immediately. Instead of being worried, he flashed you the prettiest smile, one that made your heart skip a beat, but also made your tears fall even faster.
Seeing you cry like that made his own eyes well up. The tears that had been threatening to fall finally did, and as you rushed to hug him, he let himself cry too. Both of you sank to your knees, holding each other tightly, your tears mingling together as you found comfort in each other’s embrace. The other members, who had been watching from a distance, couldn’t help but laugh at how adorable the two of you looked, sitting there on the floor, crying like children.
But in that moment, it didn’t matter how you looked to anyone else. All that mattered was that Sunoo was there, that he was safe and sound after his performance, and that you could finally let out all the emotions you’d been holding in. You were proud of him beyond words, and he, in turn, felt the weight of your love and support. You both stayed like that for a while, letting your tears cleanse the emotions that had built up, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could face anything.
Yang jungwon - 양중원
Here for each other
Jungwon had always been the epitome of strength and resilience. As the leader of his group, he bore the weight of countless responsibilities with a smile, always putting his members and his work first. You, too, were a leader, balancing the demands of your own group, but Jungwon’s dedication went beyond that. He lived and breathed his job, pouring his whole life into it.
Lately, though, things had changed. Jungwon had asked for space, telling you he needed to focus. It hurt, but you understood. His love for you ran so deep that it scared him, making him feel vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. That vulnerability was a distraction, one he couldn’t afford with the pressures of his role.
You hadn’t spoken in a while, each day dragging on with a heavy heart. Then, one day, in the middle of practice, Jungwon couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word to his members, he left, his mind only on you. The moment he arrived at your place, he didn’t give you a chance to ask what was wrong or even greet him. Instead, he kissed you—desperately, deeply, as if he was trying to pour all the emotions he’d been holding back into that kiss.
You could feel the intensity, the urgency in the way his lips moved against yours, his hands trembling as they cupped your face. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to break the connection. As you melted into his kiss, you tasted the saltiness of his tears. Your heart ached, realizing how much pain he’d been in, how much he’d been holding back.
You tried to pull back, to ask him what was wrong, but he refused to let go, pressing his lips harder against yours, his tears continuing to fall. It wasn’t about anything physical—he just needed you, needed to feel close to you, to have this moment where nothing else existed but the two of you.
Eventually, he had to pull back for air, his breath ragged, his eyes shut tightly as if he was trying to hold back more tears. Seeing him like this broke something in you. You started to scold him, your voice shaky with emotion, but before you could finish, you felt your own tears starting to fall. The weight of everything—the distance, the pressure, the love you both felt but couldn’t express—came crashing down on you.
And so, there you were, both breaking down, tears streaming down your faces. But amidst the pain and the overwhelming emotions, there was also a sense of relief. You were there for each other, holding on tightly, letting the tears flow freely. No words were needed; just the comfort of knowing that, despite everything, you had each other.
Ni- ki -남편
Here for each other
You were lying on your bed, tears streaming down your face as you watched Ni-ki’s latest video clip. The first clip played, and you couldn’t help but cry even harder, overwhelmed by how much he had changed since his debut. Ni-ki, who had just entered the room, noticed your tears and immediately rushed to your side, concern etched on his face. He glanced at the screen, realizing what you were watching, and chuckled softly.
"Why are you crying over this?" he asked, his voice gentle but amused.
Through your tears, you managed to give him a speech about how much he had grown. "You were such a baby duck back then, and now… now you're this emo puma. You've changed so much, Ni-ki. You've grown up so fast."
As you spoke, choking on your tears, you didn’t notice the way his expression changed, how his head lowered, and how his own tears began to fall. Ni-ki had been feeling out of touch with himself lately, the endless demands of his schedule making him feel disconnected. Seeing him cry, something so rare, broke your heart even more.
Without hesitation, you pulled him into your chest, holding him tightly as you both cried together. In that moment, the two of you found comfort in each other, sharing the weight of your emotions, and just being there for one another.
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