#it would completely break the flow of the scene

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬･ wc: 3,383

↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx

nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 

a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 

he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 

your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 

you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 

he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.

he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  

shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 

“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 

that student was his responsibility... 

...and he failed him entirely. 

“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 

her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 

he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 

“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 

right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 

“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 

“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 

“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 

“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”

“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 

she’s only six. 

she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 

he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 

he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  

he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…

all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  

“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 

his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 

the room is dead silent. 

your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 

what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  

nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 

he regrets his words immediately. 

he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 

fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.

you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 

“kento?” 

he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 

after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 

“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 

his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 

the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 

“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 

nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.

your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.

a safety, a reassurance of home.

you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."

a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.

nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."

you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.

"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"

"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.

"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."

you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."

"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.

"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.

your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.

she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.

he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.

"my love?" he calls out to her.

his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.

"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.

"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."

her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.

she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.

"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.

her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.

nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.

she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.

he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.

“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.

“and what tale are we reading tonight?”

she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”

nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.

“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”

“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

nanami’s heart sinks.

that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.

“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.

her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.

nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”

she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.

“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”

“why was it bad?”

nanami sighs once again.

she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".

thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.

“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”

"shaken up?"

"scared, my love"

his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.

nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.

his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.

nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.

"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"

she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.

"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.

your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.

nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.

"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"

nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.

"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"

she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.

"I did?"

nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.

"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”

“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"

"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.

“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.

you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.

“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”

“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.

“shall I carry on?”

“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."

"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.

"I know so, papa!"

"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"

"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"

"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"

"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.

you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.

“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."

"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.

you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.

[eu-nicola]

non think

summary: your friendship with Rudy began naturally and fluidly, but when his girlfriend's jealousy begins to interfere, tensions arise

warnings: nothing (?)

word counter: 5049

author's note: english is not my first language, this is fiction, don't take it seriously

From the moment you stepped onto the Outer Banks set, you felt that unmistakable energy of a team completely in sync. But even though everything seemed to click, it was Rudy Pankow who you instantly connected with. It wasn’t something you could plan—it just happened naturally.

Your role wasn’t easy. Playing Isabella Cameron, the middle Cameron sibling, meant bringing depth, charisma, and a hint of rebellion that contrasted with Sarah and Rafe but still shared a certain sensitivity with Wheezie. Even though Isabella wasn’t a Pogue like JJ, her connection with him promised to be one of the season’s most interesting twists.

On your first day on set, the nerves were real. This wasn’t your first acting gig, but something about joining a cast with such strong chemistry was intimidating. Rudy was one of the first to approach you.

“New Cameron?” he asked, with that grin of his that always seemed ready to crack a joke.

“The one and only,” you replied, trying to hide your nerves.

He burst out laughing.

“I like it. I’m Rudy, but I guess from now on we’re calling each other JJ and Isabella.”

The conversation flowed like you’d known each other forever. From that moment, it became almost a tradition for the two of you to find each other between takes to talk about scripts, crack jokes, or improvise ridiculous lines just to make the rest of the cast laugh.

One afternoon, during a scene where Isabella and JJ were supposed to argue about something involving Sarah, the directors decided to let you two improvise a bit to explore your characters' dynamic. It was a mess… in the best way possible. Your quick comebacks and Rudy’s ability to keep up with sarcastic remarks had everyone on set laughing. After calling cut, Jonas Pate, one of the show’s creators, came over.

“You two have something special. I think we’re gonna lean into that.”

It wasn’t until weeks later that you understood what he meant. In one of the season two episodes, Isabella and JJ would share an unexpected kiss—a moment that would completely shift their dynamic.

“A kiss?” you asked, stunned after reading the script.

Rudy shot you a playful look.

“What? Not excited? I’m a great kisser.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Your sarcastic tone made him laugh, like always.

Filming that scene was… interesting. Even though you got along great off-camera, you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous. But Rudy, ever the charmer, made sure to ease your nerves before the take.

“It’s like we’re mocking the cliché, but with style,” he said, adjusting JJ’s jacket.

The scene turned out so well that the director asked to shoot it from multiple angles. After every take, Rudy would wink at you, making you smile despite yourself. The funny thing was, even though JJ and Isabella’s kiss wasn’t originally meant to happen again in the series, the on-screen chemistry between you two led to more moments like that.

Still, the main storyline for Isabella revolved around Barry, the character who was supposed to be her big love interest. Barry was different, but his relationship with Isabella brought an emotional depth that fans quickly adored.

Even so, every time you and Rudy shared a scene, the vibe on set shifted. There was something contagious about the way you interacted, both on and off camera. It wasn’t uncommon for the other cast members to watch you two during breaks and joke about your 'explosive chemistry.'

“You two would be absolute chaos if they let you,” Chase said one day, watching you rehearse a particularly intense scene.

And he wasn’t wrong. Despite Isabella clearly being paired with Barry, you couldn’t deny that working with Rudy was one of the most fun and genuine parts of the production. That connection eventually led fans to start shipping Isabella and JJ, even though the show’s narrative had other plans.

The on-screen kisses quickly became a recurring topic among the cast and crew.

Everything was going perfectly fine between you and Rudy until the fans started noticing what you and the rest of the cast already knew: your on-screen chemistry was undeniable. Comments on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter exploded as soon as the first kiss scene between Isabella and JJ aired.

'Does anyone else think JJ and Isabella should be endgame?'

'Barry has nothing on JJ-Bella tension. Sorry, not sorry.'

'The way JJ looks at Isabella when she walks away… CHEF’S KISS. I need more of them.'

'I don’t care what anyone says, Rudy and Isabella HAVE to be together, ON and OFF screen.'

At first, the comments didn’t bother you. After all, most of them were about the characters, not you as actors. Even the more insistent ones were easy to brush off. But things changed when fan theories started crossing the line.

'Have you guys noticed how Rudy is always around her in BTS? 👀'

'I refuse to believe there’s nothing going on between them off-screen. Look at their interviews.'

'Sorry, but Rudy’s girlfriend doesn’t hold a candle to her. Stay with Y/N.'

That last comment felt like a trigger. Suddenly, the presence of Rudy’s girlfriend, whose relationship with him had been private and mostly unknown to fans, became glaringly obvious. She hadn’t been around during the first few months of filming, but now she showed up on set often, always quiet but clearly watching everything.

At first, you tried to be friendly. She wasn’t part of the cast, but you understood her wanting to be near Rudy. However, the tension started becoming noticeable when she stopped hiding her discomfort around you.

“So, this is the famous Isabella Cameron?,” she said one afternoon during a break. Her tone was sharp, even though her smile tried to mask it.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me.”You smiled, trying not to let it affect you.

“Well, I hope you don’t take everything the fans say too seriously. Rudy and I have something real, not like those fake kisses you share with him.”

You were caught off guard. It wasn’t like you cared about what she thought, but her comment made it clear she didn’t really know where the line between fiction and reality was. From that moment on, her little digs became more frequent.

One day, while scrolling through your social media, you saw a comment she left under one of your photos promoting the show. It didn’t say much, but the sarcasm was obvious:

"Wow, working with Rudy must be the highlight of your career. You must love it."

Fans, as expected, picked up on it right away. ‘Why’s Rudy’s girlfriend so passive-aggressive towards her?’ was one of the top comments on your profile. You laughed it off, but the whole thing left a bitter taste in your mouth.

The tension hit its peak during one of the more intense scenes between Isabella and JJ, where the two characters had to share an intimate moment in the middle of an argument. You and Rudy had rehearsed the scene, and everything seemed fine until you noticed his sudden change in attitude.

“Everything okay?” you asked him before shooting.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” His answer was short, distant, and not like him at all.

You couldn’t help but think his girlfriend had something to do with it. She was sitting in a corner of the set, arms crossed, watching you both. She wasn’t doing anything obvious, but her presence was enough to throw him off and, by extension, ruin the dynamic you two usually had.

After the scene ended, you confronted him.

“What’s going on with you? We never had problems before, but now it’s like you don’t even want to be around me.”

“It’s not that.” He avoided your gaze, confirming what you already suspected.

“Then what is it? Your girlfriend? Because if it’s about her, I need you to tell me now if we’re going to keep working like we used to or not.”

Rudy sighed, running a hand through his hair. You knew he didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was necessary.

“She just… doesn’t get it. And I don’t want things to get messier than they already are.”

“And what about our work?” you asked, more frustrated than you intended to sound.

He didn’t answer, but his silence was enough to tell you that, fair or not, things wouldn’t go back to the way they were.

After that, Rudy started pulling away not just from you, but from the rest of the cast too. The jokes between takes became less frequent, and the fun improvisations you both used to enjoy practically disappeared. No one said anything, but it was obvious something was wrong.

Social media wasn’t helping. Every time you posted something about the show, fans kept fueling the drama with their theories and comments.

‘Rudy’s girlfriend is definitely behind this. They’re not even in interviews together anymore.’

‘It’s so sad that JJ and Isabella have such good chemistry, but off-camera, it’s a mess.’

You tried to ignore it, but some nights you couldn’t help feeling frustrated. Not because of the comments, but because you missed how things used to be. Rudy was one of the best co-stars you’d ever had, and now it felt like you couldn’t even be friends.

And the worst part? He wasn’t doing anything to fix it.

When the fourth season rolled around, the news hit like a bomb. During a cast table read, the producers announced that JJ Maybank’s arc would come to a tragic end with a heroic death. While everyone murmured in shock, you could only look at him. Rudy sat in silence, arms crossed, eyes glued to the script, avoiding eye contact with everyone—especially you.

“What does this mean?” you asked Jonas directly.

“It was Rudy’s decision,” he replied, with a tone that made it clear he didn’t want to elaborate.

You couldn’t believe it. You’d heard rumors that Rudy wasn’t as excited about continuing on the show, but you always thought they were just that rumors. But now it was clear he’d made the most drastic choice possible.

That night, you couldn’t stay quiet. You found him outside the set, sitting on one of the service stairs, like he was waiting for someone to confront him.

“What the hell are you doing?” you blurted out. He looked up, surprised by your tone, but said nothing. He just shrugged.

“I’ve got nothing left to do here. I’m done.”

That lit a fire in you.

“Done? Are you serious? Rudy, your character is one of the fans’ favorites. JJ still has so much potential, and you’re just letting him die because… what? Because your girlfriend can’t handle us doing our jobs?”

He frowned, clearly annoyed.

“This has nothing to do with her. It’s my decision, and it’s final.”

“Of course, it has to do with her. Ever since she started coming to set, you’ve changed. You’re not the same anymore. You can’t even joke around with me like you used to. Now you’d rather run away than face things.”

Rudy stood up, defensive.

“And what do you expect me to do? Ignore everything? Pretend like I’m not losing my relationship?.”

“You’re not losing your relationship, Rudy. You’re sabotaging your career. And along the way, you’re throwing away everything we had, our friendship, all of it. Why can’t you see that?.”

“Because it’s not as simple for me as it is for you,” he said, raising his voice. There was frustration and pain in his tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“It means not everyone can separate things like you. Do you know how hard it’s been for me? Everyone assumes there’s something between us, like there’s more… And she sees it, the fans see it. No matter how much I deny it, someone’s always pointing it out.”

The intensity of his words caught you off guard, but you weren’t about to back down.

“So what? You’re just going to throw it all away? Let her control every decision you make? That’s not professional. It’s childish.”

He shook his head like your words couldn’t break through the wall he’d built.

“Do what you want, but don’t expect me to stay quiet while you ruin something that meant so much to all of us,” you said before turning and walking away.

From that moment on, things went downhill fast. What used to be a natural and fun connection turned into pure tension. Arguments became frequent, both on and off set. Something as simple as a rehearsal could turn into a battleground, and it wasn’t long before it started affecting the whole team.

In scenes where Isabella and JJ had to interact, the tension was so obvious that even the directors began to notice something was off. After weeks of trying, they decided to use doubles for the shots where the two of you shared the screen.

The rumor spread quickly among the crew. People whispered behind your backs, some blaming Rudy, others blaming you, but most were just confused. It wasn’t easy to explain how one of the cast’s most beloved dynamics had turned into something so unsustainable.

By the time the last scene rolled around, the atmosphere on set was heavy. That day, JJ’s final scene was being filmed—a moment that would mark the end of an era for the show and the cast. While everyone tried to keep the energy upbeat and positive, all you could feel was an overwhelming emptiness.

It wasn’t just about JJ leaving; it was because Rudy was leaving too. Even though your relationship had deteriorated to the point of being unrecognizable, you couldn’t help but remember how things had started: the laughs, the improvisations, the jokes that even got the directors to join in. Now, none of that was left.

The scene you were filming was heartbreaking, probably the most emotional one of the entire season. JJ sacrificed himself to save Isabella and the other Pogues, dying heroically. You, as Isabella, had to hold him in your arms while he said his final words.

When the director called action, you threw yourself into character completely. Isabella was desperate, her hands covered in blood as she tried to hold back tears.

“No, JJ, don’t do this to me,” you said, your voice breaking. The script called for you to cling to him, as if you could stop the inevitable.

Rudy, as JJ, looked at you with a weak smile the same one that had always defined his character, even in the darkest moments.

“Don’t cry, Bella. You always knew I’d do something stupid like this.” He coughed, mimicking the character’s weakness, but there was something else in his voice something that felt way too real.

“Don’t say that!” you screamed as Isabella, feeling a knot in your stomach that went beyond acting. Tears streamed down your face, and for a moment, you wondered if they were yours or your character’s.

“Take care of them... all of them.” He tried to laugh, but his voice faltered. JJ’s eyes closed, and the camera captured your devastated face as you hugged him one last time.

“Cut!” the director yelled.

The set erupted in applause. The crew, the cast—everyone knew they had just filmed something unforgettable. But you couldn’t move. You kept holding onto Rudy, trying to steady your breathing, because even though the scene was over, the emotions were still there.

“You were incredible,” someone said, but you didn’t register who. You barely heard Rudy mumble a “thank you” to everyone as he stood up and walked off set.

As soon as you snapped out of character, the real tears came. You weren’t one to cry in front of everyone, so you slipped away from the set and found a quiet corner where you could be alone. Sitting on one of the folding chairs, away from the lights and noise, you let the emotions take over.

“Are you okay?” Madison asked, approaching cautiously.

You looked up at her and tried to smile, but you couldn’t.

“Yeah, just... haven’t gotten much rest.”

Madison nodded and stayed quiet beside you. You knew she didn’t want to push you but was still worried. After a while, she gave your shoulder a squeeze and went back to the set, leaving you with your thoughts.

Later, when everyone was gathering to say goodbye to Rudy, you couldn’t bring yourself to go near him. You watched from a distance as he was surrounded by hugs, encouragement, and smiles. He seemed happy—or at least relieved. But to you, it all felt like a façade.

You knew you’d eventually have to face him, but you were too angry to do it now. Every time someone asked if you were going to say goodbye, you just answered, “Maybe later.”

The anger you felt toward Rudy had become constant. No matter how much you tried to justify it or make sense of it, it always led back to the same thing: he acted like none of this mattered. Like losing his friends, his job, and everything you’d built together meant nothing.

But what bothered you most wasn’t just his apparent indifference it was how, deep down, you found yourself wanting him. You hated yourself for it. You tortured yourself with thoughts that if things had been different if his girlfriend wasn’t in the picture, if he could see things the way you did—you wouldn’t be here now. But you knew he wasn’t that kind of person, which is why you’d always tried to give him the best advice, even if it hurt.

The night before Rudy officially left the set, he came to find you. You had just finished packing up your things and were walking to the parking lot when you saw him waiting by your car.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his expression unfamiliar. He looked exhausted, almost desperate.

“What for?” you shot back, crossing your arms. Sarcasm had become your go-to defense. “To have one last argument? That seems to be all we do lately.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t want to argue. I just... I need to explain myself.”

You were caught off guard by that. You hesitated for a moment before tilting your head toward the passenger seat.

“Talk.”

He leaned against your car, staring at the ground before finally speaking.

“I know you think I don’t care about any of this. That I’m just walking away because none of it matters to me. But that’s not true.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your disbelief.

“Oh, really? Because it sure seems like you don’t care. You’ve distanced yourself from everyone, didn’t even try to fix things, and now you’re just leaving. What do you expect us to think?”

“It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just... I don’t know how to handle it,” he admitted, with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in him for a long time.

You stared at him, trying to figure out if he really meant it or if it was just another excuse.

“Rudy, we’ve all tried to help you. Madison, Chase, even the directors. We all wanted to help, but you wouldn’t listen to anyone. And you can’t blame us for being upset when it seems like all you care about is keeping someone happy who doesn’t even understand what you do.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it sound,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t ask to compete with fans, theories, or with you.”

“With me?” you asked, stepping closer to him, feeling anger boil inside you again. “Are you seriously saying this is my fault?”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, but it was too late.

“Listen, I never tried to make you choose between your career and your relationship. In fact, I always told you that you could have both if you just took a second to put things into perspective. But you didn’t. You chose to pull away, not just from me, but from everyone. And now, you’re leaving. So tell me, what else do you want me to do?”

For a moment, he didn’t seem to have an answer. He just looked at you, his lips slightly parted, like he was searching for the right words.

“I want you to understand that this wasn’t an easy decision,” he finally said. “And I want you to know that I never wanted us to end up like this.”

You laughed, though there was nothing funny about the situation.

“Is that it? You want my forgiveness? Or are you expecting me to sit here feeling sorry for myself because you decided to throw everything away?”

He took a step toward you, but you stepped back.

“No. I’ve had enough. Do what you have to do. Go live your life, but don’t expect me to sit here waiting for you to realize you made a mistake. Because you did. Not just with me, but with everyone who cared about you here.”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue. He just nodded slowly, like he was accepting your words.

“Goodbye,” he said, with a sadness he hadn’t shown before.

“Goodbye, Rudy,” you replied.”

After that night, Rudy disappeared from your life. No immediate messages, no attempts to reconnect—at least not in the first few weeks. You didn’t reach out either. You’d made everything clear that last time, and you didn’t want to go back to a cycle of arguments that never seemed to end.

But as the weeks went by and the Outer Banks team started gearing up for the promotion of the new season, something inevitable happened: contact between you two. The first time you saw a message from him, you were going through emails, looking for info about the upcoming red carpet event.

It was simple, almost casual.

Rudy: “Hey. Hope you’re doing okay. How’s everything going?”

You read it a couple of times, trying to decide if it was worth replying. You knew he’d probably written and rewritten that message several times before sending it, but you still weren’t ready to fully open that door again. Finally, you typed:

You: “All good. You?”

It took him days to reply. When he did, it was just as brief.

Rudy: “Good too. Thanks for asking.”

It didn’t seem like much, but for someone like Rudy, who always avoided uncomfortable conversations, it was something. The messages continued—spaced out, always short. He’d ask how work was going; you’d reply politely, sometimes returning the question, other times leaving the thread hanging. It didn’t feel like a conversation between friends, more like an attempt to hold onto something that wasn’t really there anymore.

When the first promotional event for the new season rolled around, you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw him. The whole cast was there—except Rudy—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up. Even though he wasn’t actively part of the show anymore, his character was still important, and the producers wanted him there to honor that legacy.

The anxiety hit days before the event. Even though you’d managed to respond to some of his messages neutrally, the thought of seeing him in person made your heart race. You didn’t know how you’d react. Would you ignore him? Act like nothing happened? Talk?

The day came quicker than you’d hoped. You got ready in your hotel room, surrounded by stylists and makeup artists doing their thing while you stared at your reflection in the mirror, lost in thought. You wore a stunning dress, something that screamed strength and confidence, but inside, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

When you arrived at the event, the usual chaos of red carpets consumed you—flashes, photographers yelling, rapid-fire interviews. Everything seemed to be going as expected until you saw him. Rudy was on the other side of the carpet, talking to a group of reporters. He wore a simple but sharp suit, and while his smile was polite, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite figure out.

Madison, standing next to you, nudged you lightly.

“There he is,” she murmured, not needing to clarify who she meant.

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

You knew you’d eventually have to cross paths with him, but you avoided it as much as you could. There were interviews to do, group photos to take, fans to greet, and you stayed as far away from him as possible the whole time.

The red carpet premiere was everything you’d expected—flashes, shouting fans, excitement everywhere. But for you, it all felt distant. Rudy and you barely glanced at each other the entire time. It was like you were both in your own worlds, aware of the crowd but completely detached from everything else.

There was an awkward tension in the air, one you couldn’t ignore. The pain from the past months was still there, but it wasn’t something you were willing to show in public. The press team and photographers fired off quick questions, and while the flashes lit up everyone’s faces, you responded just enough, smiling when necessary. Still, Rudy’s presence, even from a distance, made you feel shaky.

Every now and then, your eyes met his—brief, almost fleeting—but always heavy with something you couldn’t name. He didn’t approach you, didn’t try to break the ice. He kept his distance, and everything between you stayed frozen, like time had stopped. The laughter and chatter around you felt mechanical, as if all your emotions were locked away in a room neither of you wanted to enter.

It wasn’t until you moved inside the venue for the screening that things shifted. The photographers were still snapping group photos, this time with the entire cast. A bunch of people surrounded you, and among them, somehow, was Rudy. You didn’t even notice when he got closer, but when one of the photographers gestured for everyone to squeeze in, Rudy slid in beside you. Without a word, he put his hand on your waist, stepping closer to position himself next to you. The move caught you off guard.

The photographer, clearly waiting for that moment, shouted instructions.

“Closer, please!” he called as flashes started going off again.

Instinctively, you leaned into Rudy, the heat of his body almost too much, a reminder of everything you’d once shared. The closeness made you uneasy, but it also surprised you how natural it felt for him. Like nothing had changed. Like everything was fine.

The flashes kept coming. Then, in the middle of it all, Rudy leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible over the chaos of the cameras.

“Just for tonight,” he murmured, with a faint but genuine smile, like he was trying to ease the tension.

You froze for a second, staring at him. Annoyance bubbled inside you, but you knew this was part of the job. It was a moment neither of you could avoid, no matter how much you wished you could.

“Just for tonight,” you repeated, more to yourself than to him, taking a deep breath as you forced a smile onto your face.

The photographer kept directing the group, asking for different poses, more smiles, more closeness. A part of you wanted to pull away, but another part knew that would only make things worse. So you went with it, doing what was expected, perfect smile, flawless posture, all while Rudy’s hand stayed on your waist, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the photographer signaled that the shoot was done. Rudy’s hand dropped from your waist, but he didn’t step away. He looked at you, his gaze holding too many unspoken words.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low, meant only for you.

You looked at him, feeling the words catch in your throat. There was something ironic about that question. You knew the answer wasn’t as simple as “yes.” Everything between you two was so tangled, so complicated, that words seemed pointless.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though it didn’t feel true. The answer came out more robotic than honest, but you weren’t willing to give him more than that.

Once again, the distance between you both became tangible. Rudy didn’t push. He gave you one last look before turning back to the group, rejoining the rest of the cast. You, on the other hand, stayed there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.

Even though you’d had to interact with him for work, the frustration lingered in your chest.

The night went on, and you knew you’d have to face him again at some point. The red carpets, the events, the interviews—it was all part of the job. But at the end of the day, all that was left between you two was the weight of a past you still didn’t know how to let go of.

[reidmotif]

Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.” 

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 

 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 

 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 

hey. 

The response is immediate. 

What’s up? 

You good? 

Where’d you go? 

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 

Yes. 

Trust me, it’s for the better. 

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 

trust me 

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.” 

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 

It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 

Finally. 

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 

And I’d let him. 

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 

It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 

“You love me?” I ask, softly. 

A pause. 

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 

“Let’s indulge just this once.” 

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — HAPPY BIRTHDAY TETSU ˚

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : getting ready for kuroo’s birthday dinner has brought on a few unexpected surprises.

꒰ contents ꒱ : kuroo tetsuro x reader ; fluff. full of silliness and made with lots of love. reader is pregnant but kuroo doesn’t know, brief alcohol mention, dividers by adornedwithlight — WC : 1.8k

An unnaturally high-pitched, almost bone-chilling scream sounds off in the bathroom. The tube of lipstick you were holding drops onto the vanity with a small clunk before you dart to the source of the distress.

Every light in the bathroom was flicked on, the brightness overwhelming you as you attempt to focus on the scene before you. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight.

Your devastatingly handsome husband, dressed to the nines in one of his best suits, was rustling with his inky, unruly hair in a state of panic. His eyes were wide and filled with a crazed determination as he looked for something. He's never been one to fuss that much over his hair, so it worried you a little.

“Tetsu..?” You ask in a soft voice, taking a cautious step forward with the gentleness of a curious cat. “What’s-"

“I HAVE GRAY HAIR!” He dramatically exclaimed, turning towards you and pointing towards his head. You blink once, twice. In a few easy steps, you’re right in front of this man-child and gently caress his cheek, your eyes trailing from his to the small white hair he was gesturing to.

“Okay?” You look back at him, rubbing your thumb against his cheek soothingly. “It looks good, honey.”

“I can't believe it.” Kuroo goes to break out of your hold, looking back at the mirror in horror. “I just turned thirty, this can’t be happening.”

“It's only one tiny strand of hair, Tetsuro.” You sigh exasperated, walking up to wrap your arms around his slim waist. “Besides, I think it suits you. You’re entering your silver fox era, very sexy of you.”

His body rumbles against yours as he lets out a reluctant chuckle before his hands move down to rest over yours, giving them a gentle pat. The twin golden bands that adjourn your ring fingers shine under the fluorescent lights, the glint catches your eye as it happily reflects in the mirror. 

“If you say so.” He didn’t look convinced, still frowning at his reflection. If he didn’t look so adorably pitiful, you might’ve felt bad. “Just pluck it off me. Please.”

“Aw, I love it when you beg.” The pout on his face only deepens.

“Ha, ha. Way to kick a man while he’s down, babe.” The sarcasm flows past his lips, clearly unimpressed with your lack of sympathy in this life changing moment.

“You’re so dramatic.” Without hesitation, you go to grab the defenseless strand of hair and it comes off all too easily. It only takes a second for everything to click into place. “Tetsu.”

“Did you get it?” His eyes are squeezed shut, bracing for the impact that never comes.

“Kuroo.” The use of his surname has him straightening up, eyes flying open. The piece of hair falls into his palm and he looks at it, completely gobsmacked. “This is cat hair.”

The cackle of his laugh drowns out the silence in the cramped room, his head tossed back in absolute delight. Whether it’s over the fact that it was just cat hair or the simple fact of him not having gray hair yet, you’re not sure, but you can’t find it in you to be mad. Not when his amber eyes twinkle and shine as they brim with joyful tears. 

“You’re absolutely ridiculous.” You shake your head, a smile resting on your lips. The two of you were always coated in cat hair of some sort and Kuroo had an affinity for nuzzling his head against the kitties. It’s no wonder one had found its place nestled in his hair.

“Would you love me even if I was already graying?” He asks, but there’s a tone of insecurity that weaves itself into the cracks of his voice. Thirty was a new milestone, one that he had been looking forward to but birthdays always seem to shove the concept of time right in your face.

With a tenderness that came as easy as breathing, you press a sweet kiss against his lips. It quickly blooms into a life of its own as you pour everything you wish to say into it. 

The love that will remain eternal, the warmth of all the sunsets you will watch together, the endless laughs you have yet to share, the sweet promise of tomorrow and the rest of your lives together.

“My love, I'll be with you until you’re old and gray and screaming over the fact that you found a black hair in place of all that gray.” You giggle, carding your fingers through the soft, unruly strands in an attempt to smooth it all over. “I meant it when I said my vows. I'm with you forever.”

The words reassure him, letting your promise melt over him and ease all the tension out of his body. There was never any doubt, of course, but he always loved hearing the reminder.

“My sweet wife.” With a boyish grin, Kuroo spins you around and securely cradles you in his arms, gently swaying side to side.

“My silly husband.” Reaching up behind you, you affectionately pat the palm of your hand against his cheek.

The warmth of his smile cascades through you, a beam of affection that never fails to give you butterflies despite how long you’ve been together. Something that will forever remain unchanged.

Kuroo kisses the side of your head, pressing his cheek against yours as you lovingly gaze at each other through the bathroom mirror.

“You look so beautiful, by the way. The prettiest angel I've ever seen. That dress is almost unfair.” Kuroo kisses down your cheek and along your jaw. “And you smell delicious enough to eat.”

“We have dinner reservations mister, so reel it in.” You smirk, a trait you’ve easily adopted from spending years with the man who was currently pouting over the fact he had to go to his extravagant birthday dinner.

“I suppose you’re right, but I plan on thoroughly enjoying my dessert after.” Kuroo purrs, running his soft lips along your skin, kissing your earlobe before trailing down to your neck to murmur on. “I'll order that champagne you like too, we can pull out all the stops.”

“Too bad I can't drink it.” The words slip out of your mouth faster than you could reel them back in. Kuroo froze for a moment, looking back at you through the mirror.

“Haah?” He gives you a puzzled look, standing up straight. “Why not?”

The reasoning escapes you, replaced by the pitiful opening and closing of your mouth, tongue twisting in every direction as it tries to land on what to say or rather, how to say it. 

The longer you take to respond, the more Kuroo’s eyes widen. Abruptly, he turns to you, quickly grabbing your shoulders as hope shines brightly through his hazel irises.

“Are you..?” He trails off, the words escaping him as well, nothing more than a whisper. All you can do is nod a little before Kuroo envelopes you in a crushing embrace. “You’re pregnant?!” 

“I am.” You smile, letting Kuroo pick you up a little in celebration. He lets out a bark of laughter, squeezing you gently before lowering you back down.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” He gazes softly at you, fondness crinkling by the corner of his eyes and a smile so genuine that his dimple began to show. 

“I just found out!” You grin back at him, tears brimming your eyes and overjoyed with his reaction. “I wanted to tell you but i didn’t know if tonight was right and —“

“It's more than right.” He presses his forehead against yours, eyes searing into the depths of your soul. “It's perfect. The best birthday gift ever.”

It was no secret that Kuroo had been ready to expand your little family for a while now. It was something you had wanted too but when the timing was a little better. So you had promised him to have that conversation again after he turned thirty. 

At least this saves a little time.

Kuroo carefully slides down your body, falling to his knees in seemingly slow motion. his ear is pressed against your stomach, his hands tenderly gripping your waist. 

“Oh my god.” He whispers so softly you have to strain to hear him. “I'm going to be a father.”

“You’re going to be such a good dad, Tetsu.” You run your fingers through his inky black hair. Kuroo looks up at you, wide-eyed and hopeful as his chin gently presses against your abdomen.

“You really think so?” He asks, vulnerability licking at his tone. 

“I know so.” You smile. The reassurance flooded his system, reigniting the excitement of it all. He grins back at you once again and all feels right in the world. The ghost of his lips brush along the fabric that serves as a barrier to your lower abdomen, a place that he plans on showering with love as much as he can.

“Hang on!” Kuroo stands back up so abruptly it almost gives you whiplash. You shouldn’t wear those heels, it’s not good for the baby.”

“Tetsu, I-“ Your sentence is interrupted by a squeal as Kuroo picks you up bridal style and marches towards your room. He sits you on the edge of the bed. “Tetsu, I’m only 7 weeks pregnant.” 

“Still.” Kuroo lifts your foot, fiddling with the straps of your heel before sensually sliding it off, giving your ankle a kiss for good measure. He does the same with the other foot, his eyes set on you. “You better start getting used to this, sweetheart.”

The other heel hits the ground with a distant thud as Kuroo kisses up along your leg, the fabric of the dress annoyingly getting in his way until he slides his head under it.

“Tetsu, we have reservations.” You try to squirm away but his hands grip your hips before his head pops back out to look at you with a serious expression.

“We’re not going.” He decides, hands roaming along your body. “Let's get take out, I wanna take care of you tonight.”

“It's your birthday though.” You can’t help but pout a little, guilt slowly seeping through the cracks of excitement from earlier. If only you had kept the news a secret a little longer —

“Shh.” Kuroo sits back up so his face is directly in front of yours, nuzzling his nose against yours. He always knew when you’d retreat into your mind and never let you fall too deep before lulling you back. “You gave me the perfect gift and nothing would make me happier than spoiling you a bit.”

“But—“ 

“No buts. It’s my birthday after all, and I get final say.” With a dastardly smirk, he kisses you with all the love in the world, his palm happily resting on your stomach. The excitement of the coming days in your lives grows alongside the little one that will bring you so much joy in the near future. 

thank you very much for reading. happy birthday tetsu 💋

[planete777]

BAD INFLUENCE 2・⁠｡♪ LN4 [+ OP81]

( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)

READ PART 1!

IN WHICH. oscar never knew getting high with lando and y/n entailed... this. but he's not complaining.

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, threesome, oral sex (m & f rec.), referenced tit job, face sitting and anal (m rec.), a bit of sub!oscar because it's my roman empire, high hotness pt. 3574144, unprotected in v sex, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, squirting, realisations (they love each other, your honour), they're just nasty omg what have i written 😭

NOTE. PART 2 HAS ARRIVED!!! many of you asked and so i have to deliver amirite?!?!? credit to @mariahcarreyyy for the main smut scene idea!! i hope it's good enough for ya <3 enjoy luvss.

has now been edited.

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu @multifandomwhore-003 (use askbox if you'd like to be added!)

"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"

and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.

-.-.-.-.-

oscar feels fucking spent.

his cock lays limp, yet tingles with the undercurrent of arousal, and honest to God, if he fucked once more, he may never cum again.

thing is, he had thought the same 2 orgasms ago, and roughly an hour prior, but, as if the weed trickled a steady flow of dopamine into his bloodstream, the more they fucked, the more he hungered for another orgasm.

had his cock sucked completely dry by his teammate (how the fuck is lando this good at giving head?) as y/n sat on his face and he had all his prayers answered, before another climax was scooped out of him when y/n gave him a good tit job. never had he thought seeing his cum drizzled upon a girl's boobs like icing would be that cathartic, but it only gets worse when lando, the fucking nerve of that man, licks every drop like it were the remnants of a melting popsicle.

"your mouth, lando," oscar had whined out in absolute despair because, one day, it's gonna wipe him out like he never existed.

his teammate only smirked, lips oiled with spit and cum, before dragging his tongue up his girlfriend's neck, eyes hooked to oscar's, and shoving his tongue down y/n's throat. the noises were downright pornographic, pumping more blood to oscar's dick, and they ended up fucking, reverse cowgirl, as the girl wanked oscar off. he swore his dick would fall right right there and then, everything felt too good that there had to be a compromise, but he was yet to figure what that was. if there even was one.

wished he could say they were done, sated to the point where alarms for their flight tomorrow would be like whispers in a rainstorm. however, no matter how many breaks in between they took (consisting mostly of getting more high and sharing one spliff, which made it all hotter), a seemingly innocent make out would lead to one's mouth on another's crotch, or one's cock deep inside another (oscar had never, you know... bottomed, but fucking hell, lando's got some cock on him).

with a throbbing hole, and an equally throbbing dick, inert just minutes before, oscar has the dire need to squeeze one more orgasm before he allows himself to lay at fate's mercy.

a clammy body, flush against his own pink skin, wrings themselves out of his gentle hold and sits up, "you're hard again, baby?"

it's not really phrased as a question, but rather an interesting observation, and y/n trails a hand to grab his dick. it hurts, a dull pulse of ache bouncing through the skin, but it feel so so good and oscar's head is thrown back, mouth open as a heavy moan breaks through.

lando, from y/n's other side, watches intensely as she slowly jerks oscar off. his sternum elevates and sinks in a rapid succession, legs open wide to fully accomodate the hand working between them, and lando is fully mesmerised by it all.

shy, quiet oscar, who could have a man compelled by his hole alone, and besotted by the wonders of his mouth. lando wouldn't mind a throuple, not at all.

a sloppy kiss is left on the skin of y/n's jugular, "you want him?"

he can see the curve of his girlfriend's smile, pushing against her smooth cheek, and she knows what he means.

you want him for us?

"yeah," her hand slows, and oscar whines, lando giggles at that. so desperate. "not letting him go now."

then she's taking her hand off oscar completely, pushing her body into his to whisper, "wanna fuck me while i suck your mate off?"

and oscar's eyes glitter as they snap open and his head nods so fast, it nearly tumbles off his neck, lando's sure.

he's moving, sitting up and looking at the both of them with red, lidded eyes, and they hold so much, that lando wonders how one could retain it all.

y/n is smiling and wiggling onto her front, and it galvanises lando to bare his legs wide, cock hard and weeping precum. she gives it a small teasing lick and sparks zap through his dick, causing a hand to fly to her hair. he pulls ever so slightly, just as a warning, and she's smirking, giving the head a kiss.

"how do you want it?" oscar asks from behind her, calculative. she opens her legs more, pussy glistening, "any way you want to, baby."

he hums, kneading the flesh of her ass softly in confirmation, and grabs his dick to prod at her hole. it's tentative, almost adoring, before he slides in fully, soft and slow. he's so sweet, so gentle, as if it's his first time doing such a thing, and y/n can't withold the moan that pushes past her lips.

"oh fuck, oscar."

he's whining, hands tight around her waist.

lando pushes her down on his dick, saliva lathering his skin beautifully, y/n's nose deep in the tamed bush of hair. she allows herself to breathe, eyes shut tight, but then oscar's moving, so slow and slow deep that she choking on her moans, and lando's cock.

he pulls her off just slightly, but she slides him back in, dick thick and hot in her throat, and lando's moans are whorish.

"yes, baby," he's whining, "just like that."

oscar feels his orgasm creep on him too quickly, tries to think of anything that would slow it down, but the sight before him is so nasty, he loves it. lando is completely gone, fucking into y/n's throat like it's his last ever head, two hands in her hair. he's redder than oscar's ever seen him, curls stuck to his forehead like glue and muscles straining as he pulls his girlfriend on and off his cock.

"fuckkk— shit, i'm gonna cum," he groans out, hand moving to rub into y/n's clit. she's writhing, legs shaking as she slobbers all over the dick in her mouth and lando's face turns pained with pleasure, unmoving, as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

oscar can't stop his orgasm anymore, and it tumbles over him like a tsunami, hips snapping as he fills y/n deep. the sound of high pitched moans cry from lando's mouth, body trembling with the intensity of his climax and just as oscar slowly dwindles from his high, y/n is clenching around him so tightly and a gush of wetness splashes against his thigh.

his head whips down to see his legs drenched and oscar— he's mesmerised.

"shit, y/n," it's an awed whisper, "you're squirting?"

his voice sounds fucked out, and lando's eyes are sliding open, curious. the sound of liquid falling onto the bedding is so damning, and oscar pulls out to watch as her pussy clenches and pushes more out.

it's beautiful, what he's seeing.

"oh my God."

lando gently pushes her mouth off his dick and y/n's sobbing, back arching as she convulses.

"let it all out, baby," lando caresses her cheeks, "look at you being so good for oscar."

and at that, oscar figures he could get used to this, for as long as times wills.

[22ayla21]

Support for centuries

Watching how their daughter shows her true character only with her father, the mother understands that even when she is gone, Lilia will always be that unshakable support on which their little girl can rely.

The mother of the family had long noticed that their daughter behaved differently with each of her parents. With her, the little girl was gentle, obedient, always attentive and disciplined. But as soon as she was alone with Lilia, a completely different creature appeared before him: wayward, stubborn, sometimes even openly ignoring his requests, but at the same time shining with happiness.

At first, the mother thought that it was just a child's game. Children are like that - they test boundaries, watch how adults react to their behavior. But one day, watching them from the side, she realized that everything was much deeper.

That day, Lilia caught her daughter red-handed again - she climbed onto a high chest of drawers in the library, proudly standing there, like a conqueror who had conquered a new peak. Lilia, of course, immediately got alarmed, started wailing, and began to carefully lower her down, muttering under his breath that she was too tiny to climb such heights, but his daughter only looked at him condescendingly, silently climbed down and... immediately tried to climb back up again.

Lilia's wife watched this scene, holding her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing. Her husband, an ancient and wise fairy who had raised Malleus himself and his adopted son Silver, stood before their little girl, completely powerless.

And it wasn't that he couldn't be strict. No, he simply didn't want to. He was her support. Her fortress. The one who would never break her will, but would only support her, even if he had to secretly spread pillows on the floor to soften her fall. Their daughter understood this perfectly well.

The woman smiled. Maybe she hadn't taken some things into account when she married the long-lived faerie. Like how their child would inherit not only human determination but also faerie stubbornness, but she didn't regret it.

If their daughter was destined to grow up human, growing up and changing in a world where time flowed differently for her father, then she needed just such a foundation. Someone who would always be there, someone who would never say, "You can't," but instead, "Let's try."

She knew that someday she herself would no longer be there to see their little girl succeed. But Lilia would remain. He would be there. Always.

[minswriting]

Fear Of Loving You - Spencer Reid x Reader

About: Reader is madly in love with Spencer Reid. But rather than confessing her feelings for him, she gets into a different relationship to try and move on from him. When he finds out, he’s quite mad. Cue the angsty ish love confession

Warnings: Angst, love confessions, emotions, slight nsfw, mdni

Word Count: 1,600 words

Note: don’t get your hopes up with this one pookies. i quite literally pulled this out of my ass because i realized i had no one shots of spencer lol. regardless, enjoy!! i have smuttier one shots being planned at the moment heehee

The word love can be very complex. We all have an instinctual desire to love or be in love with something. Whether it be a person, an animal, or an object. It’s why we can love our families, our pets, that random character on our screens that just makes our hearts beat fast. But love can also be hard. Right person, right time. Wrong person, wrong time. Wrong person, right time. Right person, wrong time. There are multiple different ways a relationship can be. And your relationship with Spencer?

Well, it's the right person, wrong time.

Being co-workers of the same age, it wasn’t hard to get close to one another when you joined the team. The two of you became friends fairly quickly. He had given you a random fact when the two of you met and you had responded with “oh wow! i didn’t know that,” in an enthusiastic manner which had led to you and Spencer having a full-blown conversation on the plane to your first case rather than interacting much with anyone else. After that, things just flowed easily.

Days at the bureau or on the case turned into nights of spending time with one another. The two of you have gone to a Korean Film Festival together, the opening of a new bookstore, you cooked him dinner at your place occasionally, ordered takeout at his. It wasn’t hard for the two of you to grow feelings for one another when you’re constantly spending so much time together. With Spencer, you felt complete in a way you hadn’t felt complete before.

But you knew nothing could come of your feelings for him. How could they? In the end, you’re both co-workers, working a dangerous profession. The thought of ever dating Spencer terrified you due to the fear of losing him on the job or god forbid your relationship ends horribly and how that would turn out for the rest of the team. So your feelings for one another remained unspoken, there but never acknowledged.

Eventually, you tried to move on from your feelings for Spencer. You met a guy that you got along with, someone who made you feel a bit lighter. And eventually, you began dating him. But the moment the BAU found out, Spencer had given you the cold shoulder and you couldn’t figure out as to why.

Which led to where you are now, on a case in Vermont, forced to share a room with Spencer after he had been giving you the silent treatment since you told the team about your relationship earlier on in the day. The room was dead silent as you sat on the bed, going through your bag. The silence from Spencer was frustrating you, to say the least. He was most definitely much more talkative and you couldn’t figure out what was making him act so coldly towards you.

Earlier in the day, after you had told the team, the two of you had gone to a crime scene together and he only spoke to the detective that had gone with you guys, ignoring your statements and words. You glanced over at Spencer who was sitting on a chair, reading over the case file.

“Spencer,” you said his name, breaking the dead silence in the room. He didn’t answer, causing you to take a deep breath in frustration. “Giving me the silent treatment is really low of you right now.”

Spencer simply scoffed, not responding to your words. His eyes were glued to the file, though you could tell he wasn’t actually reading it.

“Listen, if you’re mad that I’m in a relationship then that’s fine. You can feel how you want to feel. But I expected you to have a lot more respect and maturity to say it to my face,” you exclaimed, grabbing your pajamas and placing your bag on the floor.

“What about the respect of telling me yourself privately?” Spencer replied back, breaking his silence. His brown eyes were on you as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I thought we were much closer that we could tell one another anything.” He stood up from the chair, walking over to you. “You want to talk about respect and maturity? You should’ve told me when it happened.”

You looked up at Spencer as he towered over you. You felt the guilt, knowing you should have talked to him about it. Because above all else, he is your best friend. However, how could you tell him when you’re also so madly in love with him? He would’ve known easily that you didn’t actually like your boyfriend as much as you may exclaim you did. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” you said softly.

“You didn’t know how or you just didn’t want to?” Spencer said with indignation, furrowing his eyebrows. He was infuriated, to say the least. Understandably so. “Because from my perspective, Y/N, it just seemed as though I wasn’t important enough for you to tell.”

“Spencer, you’re so important,” you said, standing up from the bed so you were almost at eye level with him. “God, you’re so ridiculously important to me.” You said sincerely, tilting your head as you looked up at Spencer.

“Doesn’t really feel like it,” Spencer replied, pressing his lips into a straight line and shrugging his shoulders. “If I am so important to you, you would’ve said something to me. That’s really the bottom line of it. But no, instead I had to find out alongside the rest of the team. I genuinely thought we were closer than that but clearly we weren’t.”

“But we are!” You raised your voice. “We are very close which is why I got into this relationship in the first place!”

Spencer gave you a look of confusion. “What?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows once more.

You took a deep breath, realizing that you can’t just hide your true feelings from Spencer forever. The unspoken words between the two of you must get spoken. And there really isn’t any turning back now. Either way, your relationship with him would be screwed. “I got into this relationship because of you,” you said calmly, closing your eyes for just a moment as you gathered your thoughts. You opened them back up to look Spencer in the eye. “Because if I hadn’t, I’d be spending so much of my time pining after you, someone I cannot have.”

“Who says you can’t have me?” Was his only question, causing your heart to flutter in your chest.

“Me,” you said simply. “I am scared that if we ever crossed the line of friendship into something else, that something bad would happen. I don’t want to lose you, Spencer, I really don’t. And in our line of work, it’s more probable that we could lose one another and that thought haunts me everyday.” You took on a vulnerable tone as you spoke. You could see Spencer’s features softening as he looked at you, finally understanding what you’re saying. “So, to move on from you, I got into this relationship. It isn’t a good thing for me to do. The guy is innocent and likes me for me. But all I care about is you, Spencer.” You finished your confession with a deep sigh, closing your eyes as anxiety began to consume you, not knowing how Spencer would react to such a confession.

What you hadn’t expected was to feel Spencer cup your cheeks as he captured your lips with his own, kissing you so deeply. It took you a moment to process what was happening, the action causing you to tense up and open your eyes. But after a few moments, you relaxed into Spencer’s touch and kissed him back, closing your eyes once more.

The kiss said what was unsaid. That Spencer cared about you just as much as you did for him. It was a passionate kiss with many emotions. His lips were hungry for yours, your tongues exploring one another’s mouths. And after a few minutes, Spencer let go of your lips, keeping his forehead pressed against yours. “I care about you too,” he whispered. “All I’ve ever cared about since I met you was you,” Spencer exclaimed, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.

Soft words with soft looks, kisses upon kisses, all in which led to the both of you naked and on the hotel mattress, pawing at one another in the best sex in your lifetime. It was needy and passionate, the type that conveyed everything you guys needed to know. Nothing else mattered except you and Spencer. Spencer held you close to him, lips on yours, as he thrusted into you. He needed to feel all of you. Just as you needed to feel all of him.

And when you guys finished, laying on the bed in each other’s arms, you turned to look at Spencer. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I should’ve just told you my feelings rather than jumped into some dumb relationship but I was scared.”

“I’m scared too,” he murmured back, resting his head on top of yours. “But I’ve read that relationships do best when the couple works through issues together. So, any problems that occur, any fears that we have, we need to communicate them and face them together.”

“Are we a couple now?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Spencer moved his head off of yours, glancing at you with a small smile. “After you break up with that random boyfriend of yours, I will properly ask you out.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

[patricia-taxxon]

cw: venting about some drama that happened on twitter that many of you were likely not present for, and my very personal solipsistic emotional reaction to it that many of you will find annoying.

So every once in a while, people (normies) rediscover this furry musician called Pent Up Pup, who is a fan of me i think, so I need to be nice. To describe them with complete neutrality, they make music that is completely filled with memes and signifiers of furry kink erotica to the point of parody, and they invite a huge amount of derision like you'd expect. This particular drama storm was triggered by their new song, and it aroused a lot of negative emotions in me, which i'll go through from least to most self-centered.

So firstly, through being so audacious, Pent Up Pup has managed to become the default furry musician through which all discourse flows, normies treat them like the final boss. Everyone needed to have a take, but even more people saw this as an opportunity to bring them down in favor of someone else. Some poor furry rapper called $LEAZY EZ got caught in the crossfire, and her snippet that she uploaded got met with "see? finally some GOOD furry music, this is way better than the one other furry musician I know." And like, yea I'd absolutely produce and mix an entire mixtape for her at no charge, but she had a right to be upset that her big viral break was in service of a bunch of leeches one-upping another creator in the space she was trying to integrate with.

But worse, the main response to her snippet was just... "Oh, finally, furry music that isn't white boy EDM." And like, Pent Up Pup isn't white and imo is way more aligned with alt-rock/britpop, they're just imagining a minority that agrees with them. But also, the more self centered part of me just wants to ask "what about me?" Like imo I'm one of the best in the world at the specific thing I do, and it's not white boy EDM.

And furthermore, in response, every furry musician on twitter has been eager to defend their friend and say that trash talking Pup and uplifting someone else doesn't work when everyone in the scene knows each other. "Don't you know? We're a tight knit community!" And to this I feel a combination of petulant annoyance and RSD, because I have been trying to be a part of that scene and failing for a long time now. Like, I tried integrating into the community when I was first gearing my music in that direction & tried sending my music to the failed beta version of Aural Aliance, and Rinny turned down my track (it was the then unreleased beast / creature) because it had autotune in it. They apologized later (thankfully) and offered me a spot, but like, half of their lineup and also the people organizing the events have me blocked over callout stuff, so I just ghosted them. I've mostly been watching this huge unfair drama storm unfold, making me feel talked over, but then I also have to watch this community that ostracized me band together and show their unyielding comradery while everyone just sidesteps past me in the conversation. I warned you that this would be self centered.

[tosomeonessomeone]

irony in harmony.

words・ 7.9k /pairings・ Seungmin x reader / genres・fluff / warnings・ little bit spicy?

The studio was buzzing with energy, a rare kind of electricity that only came when creative minds collided. Y/N adjusted her headphones, her fingers flying over the soundboard as she fine-tuned the latest track. Her two best friends, Mia and Jisoo, were deep in discussion with the Stray Kids members, their voices a low hum in the background. The room was a chaotic blend of laughter, technical jargon, and the occasional burst of music.

Y/N was the visual director of their trio, the one who brought their musical visions to life with stunning visuals and concepts. She was known for her sharp wit and even sharper tongue, a trait that had earned her both admirers and adversaries in the industry. But today, she was all business, her focus entirely on the task at hand.

Seungmin leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He had heard about Y/N and her friends, the trio that had taken the music world by storm with their innovative productions. But seeing her in action was something else entirely. There was an intensity about her, a fierce dedication that was both intimidating and captivating.

He caught her eye as she glanced up from the soundboard, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, with a smirk that could only be described as wicked, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Enjoying the show?" she quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Seungmin chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking over to her. "Just admiring the view," he shot back, his tone equally ironic.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Cute. But flattery won't get you anywhere with me."

"Noted," Seungmin replied, his grin widening. "But just so you know, I'm not easily intimidated."

"Good," Y/N said, turning back to the soundboard. "Because neither am I."

And just like that, a spark was lit. Two sarcastic, sharp-witted individuals, each recognizing a kindred spirit in the other. It was the beginning of a friendship that would soon blossom into something much deeper.

The days turned into weeks, and the collaboration between Stray Kids and Y/N's trio was in full swing. The studio became their second home, a place where creativity flowed freely and ideas were born and refined. Y/N and Seungmin found themselves working closely together, their banter becoming a staple of the studio atmosphere.

One afternoon, as they were reviewing the latest edits for the music video, Seungmin leaned back in his chair and glanced at Y/N. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be the visual director, you spend an awful lot of time in the sound booth."

Y/N didn't look up from her laptop. "And for someone who's supposed to be a singer, you spend an awful lot of time critiquing my work."

"Touché," Seungmin said with a laugh. "But seriously, you're good at this. Like, really good."

Y/N finally looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Thanks. Coming from you, that actually means something."

Seungmin shrugged. "Just calling it like I see it. You've got a knack for bringing out the best in people."

Y/N studied him for a moment, then smiled. "You're not so bad yourself, Seungmin."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch. That one hurt."

"Good," Y/N said, her smile turning into a grin. "You needed to be taken down a peg or two."

The collaboration was a whirlwind of creativity and energy. Mia, the choreographer director, was a force to be reckoned with. Her sharp eye for detail and relentless drive for perfection had the dance line of Stray Kids—Hyunjin, Lee Know, and Felix—completely floored. They spent hours in the dance studio, pushing their limits and learning new routines that Mia choreographed with precision and flair.

"Again," Mia commanded, her voice firm but encouraging. "You need to hit that move with more power, Hyunjin. Imagine you're breaking through a wall."

Hyunjin nodded, sweat dripping from his brow as he repeated the move. Lee Know and Felix followed suit, their movements synchronized and sharp. Mia watched them with a critical eye, nodding in approval as they nailed the routine.

"You're getting there," she said with a small smile. "But don't get complacent. We have a lot more to cover."

Meanwhile, Jisoo, the musical producer, was in her element with 3Racha—Bang Chan, Changbin, and Han—and the vocal line—Seungmin and I.N. They were in the sound booth, fine-tuning the tracks for the new album. Jisoo's expertise and innovative approach to music production had the boys in awe.

"Let's try that bridge again," Jisoo suggested, her fingers flying over the soundboard. "I want to add a layer of harmonies here to give it more depth."

Bang Chan nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "That sounds amazing. Let's do it."

Changbin and Han exchanged glances, their respect for Jisoo evident. "She's a genius," Changbin whispered to Han, who nodded in agreement.

I.N, ever the eager learner, was soaking up every bit of knowledge he could from Jisoo. "Can you show me how you did that effect on the vocals?" he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Jisoo smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "Of course, I.N. Let's break it down."

While the rest of the group was immersed in their respective tasks, Seungmin found his attention constantly drifting to Y/N. She was in her element, moving between the sound booth and the editing suite with ease. Her sharp wit and quick comebacks kept everyone on their toes, but there was a softness to her that Seungmin couldn't ignore.

One evening, as they were wrapping up for the day, Seungmin found himself alone with Y/N in the editing suite. She was reviewing the latest cuts for the music video, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Need any help?" Seungmin asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Y/N glanced up, a small smile playing on her lips. "Depends. Are you any good at editing?"

Seungmin chuckled. "Not really. But I'm great at moral support."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to his ears. "Well, I could use some of that. This scene is giving me a headache."

Seungmin walked over, standing behind her chair as he looked at the screen. "What's the issue?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The transitions are off. It's not flowing the way I want it to."

Seungmin studied the screen, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "What if you tried cutting it here?" he suggested, pointing to a specific frame. "It might create a smoother transition."

Y/N considered his suggestion, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she made the adjustment. She played the sequence again, and this time, the transition was seamless.

"Wow," Y/N said, turning to look at him with a surprised smile. "That actually worked. Thanks, Seungmin."

Seungmin grinned, his heart swelling with pride. "Anytime. I told you I'm good at moral support."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Don't let it go to your head."

Their laughter filled the room, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. But then reality came crashing back as Mia called out from the hallway, "Y/N, we need you in the dance studio!"

Y/N sighed, closing her laptop. "Duty calls."

The week was winding down, and late Friday evening, the usual hustle and bustle of the studio had quieted. Most of the team had dispersed, either heading home or grabbing a late dinner. Seungmin, however, found himself lingering. Something felt off. Y/N, who was usually in the thick of things, was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t spotted her in the music studio, the dance studio, or even the editing suite. It was unusual, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He found Jisoo in the sound booth, tweaking the final mix of a track. “Hey,” Seungmin said, leaning against the doorframe. “Have you seen Y/N? She’s not in her usual spots.”

Jisoo glanced up, her expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Oh, she’s in her art studio. Has been since she got here. She’s probably deep in her creative zone. Trust me, it’s best not to disturb her when she’s like this.”

Seungmin frowned. “But it’s been hours. Shouldn’t someone check on her?”

Jisoo smirked, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through him. “Why? Worried about her, Seungmin?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just… curious. She’s usually around, that’s all.”

Jisoo chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, if you’re that curious, go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Y/N can be… intense when she’s working.”

Seungmin nodded, already turning to leave. “Thanks, Jisoo.”

As he made his way down the hallway toward Y/N’s art studio, he could hear faint music drifting through the door. It wasn’t the usual track they’d been working on—it was something softer, more melodic. He paused outside the door, his hand hovering over the knob. The music grew louder, and then he heard it—Y/N’s voice.

She was singing.

Seungmin froze, his breath catching in his throat. Her voice was rich and soulful, filled with emotion he hadn’t expected. She wasn’t just singing; she was pouring her heart out, her voice rising and falling with the melody. It was raw, beautiful, and completely captivating.

He stood there, transfixed, as she sang the final notes, her voice fading into silence. For a moment, he couldn’t move. He had no idea she could sing like that. Why had she never mentioned it? Why had she hidden this part of herself?

Before he could overthink it, he knocked on the door.

“Jisoo, Mia, unless the building is on fire, leave me alone,” Y/N called out, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Seungmin hesitated, then cleared his throat. “It’s me… Seungmin.”

There was a long pause, and then the sound of footsteps approaching the door. It opened slowly, revealing Y/N with a slightly embarrassed smile. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and there were smudges of paint on her hands and cheeks. She looked… stunning.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer now. “What are you doing here?”

Seungmin scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. “I, uh, was looking for you. Jisoo said you were here, and I just… wanted to check on you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a small smirk. “Check on me? That’s sweet. But I’m fine, really. Just working on some stuff.”

Seungmin glanced past her into the studio. The room was a chaotic blend of canvases, sketches, and half-finished projects. There was a record player in the corner, the source of the music he’d heard earlier. “You’ve been in here all day?”

Y/N shrugged. “Time flies when you’re in the zone. What about you? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

“I was,” Seungmin said, his eyes locking onto hers. “But I couldn���t stop thinking about where you were.”

Y/N’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer. “Well, now you know. I’m here, painting, listening to music, and… singing, apparently.”

Seungmin’s face lit up. “Yeah, about that. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that? You’re amazing.”

Y/N looked away, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not a big deal. I just… sing for myself. It helps me think.”

“Not a big deal?” Seungmin repeated, stepping closer. “Y/N, you have an incredible voice. You should be sharing it with the world.”

She shook her head, her expression turning serious. “It’s not that simple. Singing is… personal for me. It’s not something I do for other people.”

Seungmin studied her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her eyes. “I get that. But just so you know, I’m really glad I got to hear it. Even if it was by accident.”

Y/N looked back at him, her smile returning. “Thanks, Seungmin. That means a lot.”

They stood there for a moment, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Then Y/N stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. “Since you’re here, want to see what I’ve been working on?”

Seungmin grinned, following her into the studio. “I’d love to.”

As the weeks went by, Seungmin and Y/N’s bond deepened in ways neither of them could have anticipated. Seungmin, ever the diligent member of Stray Kids, would fulfill his responsibilities with the group—recording vocals, practicing choreography, and participating in meetings—but his mind often wandered to Y/N. The moment his duties were done, he’d slip away, making his way to her art studio like it was his second home.

Y/N’s studio had become their sanctuary. The walls were adorned with sketches, mood boards, and half-finished concepts for Stray Kids’ upcoming album. The air was always filled with the soft music a mix of nostalgic classics and modern indie tracks. Seungmin would sit quietly in the corner, sometimes journaling, sometimes just watching her work. He loved the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way she bit her lip when she was deep in thought, and the way her eyes lit up when a concept finally came together.

“You’re staring again,” Y/N said one evening, not looking up from her sketchpad. Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth to it that made Seungmin’s heart skip a beat.

“Am I?” he replied, feigning innocence. “Maybe I’m just admiring your artistic process.”

Y/N smirked, finally glancing up at him. “Admiring, huh? You sure you’re not just avoiding practice?”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, if I wanted to avoid practice, I’d find a better excuse than watching you draw.”

“Good to know,” Y/N said, her tone playful. “But seriously, don’t you have better things to do than hang out in my studio all day?”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Nope. This is exactly where I want to be.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked back down at her sketchpad, pretending to focus on her work. But Seungmin didn’t miss the way her hands trembled slightly, or the way her breath hitched for just a moment. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he let the comfortable silence settle between them, the music filling the space as they worked side by side.

Outside the studio, the rest of the group had started to notice the growing connection between the two. Mia and Jisoo exchanged knowing glances whenever Seungmin disappeared after practice, and the Stray Kids members weren’t much better.

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin asked one afternoon, glancing around the dance studio. “He said he’d help me with this part of the choreography.”

Mia smirked, not looking up from her notes. “Where do you think? He’s probably in Y/N’s studio, ‘admiring her artistic process.’”

The group erupted into laughter, and even Bang Chan couldn’t hide his grin. “Leave him alone,” he said, though his tone was light. “If he’s happy, let him be.”

The studio was alive with its usual energy, but there was an undercurrent of amusement that day. Everyone had noticed the growing connection between Y/N and Seungmin—everyone except the two of them. Mia and Jisoo, in particular, had taken to exchanging knowing glances whenever the pair was in the same room. Even the Stray Kids members, who were usually too wrapped up in their own chaos to pay attention, had started placing bets on how long it would take for the two to figure things out.

One afternoon, during a rare break, Mia leaned over to Jisoo, her voice low. "Do you think they'll ever figure it out?"

Jisoo smirked, her eyes flickering toward Y/N and Seungmin, who were sitting side by side on the couch, reviewing the latest edits for the music video. "Not if we don't give them a little push."

Mia raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "What did you have in mind?"

Jisoo shrugged, her smile widening. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a little nudge here and there. They’re both too stubborn to make the first move."

Mia chuckled, shaking her head. "They’re hopeless. But you’re right. Someone’s gotta do something before they drive the rest of us crazy."

Meanwhile, Seungmin was doing his best to focus on the edits, but it was nearly impossible with Y/N sitting so close to him. Their shoulders brushed every time one of them moved, and the warmth of her body next to his was driving him crazy. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume—something floral and sweet—and it was distracting in the best way.

"You know," he said, trying to sound casual, "we make a pretty good team."

Y/N glanced at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "We do, don’t we?"

Seungmin’s heart raced, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Yeah. I mean, we balance each other out. You’re all sharp edges, and I’m... well, I’m the charming one."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to his ears. "Keep telling yourself that."

Seungmin grinned, but inside, he was a mess. He wanted to tell her how he felt, to confess that he’d been falling for her for weeks now. But he was terrified of ruining what they had. And from the way Y/N was acting—her teasing smiles, the way her eyes lingered on him just a little too long—it seemed like she might feel the same way. But he couldn’t be sure.

Across the room, the rest of the team was watching them with amused expressions. Hyunjin elbowed Felix, nodding toward the oblivious pair. "How long do you think it’ll take them to figure it out?"

Felix shrugged, grinning. "At this rate? Forever. They’re both too stubborn."

Bang Chan, who had been quietly observing the scene, chimed in. "Maybe they just need a little push. You know, like in those dramas where the friends set them up on a fake date or something."

Jisoo, who had overheard, smirked. "Oh, trust me, we’re already on it."

Later that evening, as the group was packing up to leave, Mia and Jisoo cornered Y/N in the hallway. "Hey," Mia said, her tone casual but her eyes gleaming with mischief. "We’re all going out for dinner tonight. You should come."

Y/N hesitated, glancing back toward the studio where Seungmin was still packing up his things. "I don’t know... I was planning to finish up some work—"

"Nope," Jisoo interrupted, linking her arm through Y/N’s. "You’ve been working too hard. You need a break. And besides, Seungmin’s coming too."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, and she quickly looked away, hoping they didn’t notice the way her cheeks flushed. "Oh. Well, I guess I could come for a little while."

Mia and Jisoo exchanged a triumphant look. "Great," Mia said, her smile widening. "We’ll see you there."

As the group gathered at the restaurant, Seungmin found himself seated next to Y/N, their knees brushing under the table. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and teasing, but Seungmin couldn’t help but notice the way Y/N’s eyes sparkled when she laughed, or the way her hand occasionally brushed against his when she reached for her drink.

At one point, Y/N leaned over to him, her voice low. "Thanks for coming tonight. I know you’re not big on group outings."

Seungmin smiled, his heart skipping a beat at the way she was looking at him. "I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, it’s nice to see you outside the studio for once."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away. "Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’m still a workaholic at heart."

Seungmin chuckled, his gaze softening. "I know. But even workaholics need a break sometimes."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. The noise of the restaurant, the laughter of their friends—it all disappeared, leaving just the two of them. Seungmin’s heart was pounding, and he could see the same uncertainty in Y/N’s eyes. He wanted to say something, to tell her how he felt, but before he could, the moment was broken by Mia’s voice.

"Alright, everyone! Group photo time!"

The night had been full of laughter and camaraderie, but as the evening wound down, the group’s plan was set into motion. Mia and Jisoo, along with the rest of the Stray Kids members, had conspired to make sure Seungmin was the one to walk Y/N home. They all knew it was only a matter of time before the two of them figured out what everyone else already saw—that they were perfect for each other.

As Seungmin and Y/N walked through the quiet streets, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They talked about everything and nothing—music, their favorite movies, the chaos of the studio, and even their childhood dreams. Y/N, who was usually guarded, found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t expected.

"You know," she said, her voice light but tinged with vulnerability, "I have this weird hobby. I collect vinyl records. It’s kind of a passion of mine."

Seungmin’s eyes lit up with interest. "Really? That’s so cool. I’ve always loved the sound of vinyl. There’s something so... authentic about it."

Y/N smiled, a hint of pride in her expression. "Exactly. It’s like you can feel the music, you know? It’s not just something you listen to—it’s something you experience."

Seungmin nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Can I see your collection sometime?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not? You’re already walking me home. Might as well come in."

When they arrived at her apartment, Y/N led Seungmin inside, her heart racing slightly. She wasn’t used to having people in her space, especially not someone like Seungmin. But as she showed him her collection of vinyl records, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. The records were neatly organized on shelves, their covers a mix of classic albums and obscure finds.

Seungmin picked up one of the records, his fingers gently tracing the cover. "This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I didn’t know you were into this kind of music."

Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me."

Seungmin looked at her, his expression serious. "I’d like to."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. There was something in his eyes, something that made her heart race. She wanted to tell him everything, to let him in. But she was scared. Scared of being vulnerable, scared of getting hurt.

Seungmin seemed to sense her hesitation. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "You don’t have to be afraid, Y/N. Not with me."

Y/N looked down at their joined hands, her mind racing. She wanted to believe him, to trust him. But it was so hard. "Seungmin, I..."

He waited, giving her the space to find the words. And finally, she took a deep breath and said, "I’m not easy."

Seungmin’s heart stopped for a moment, but he kept his expression calm. "I don’t care."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. "You don’t understand. I’m... complicated. I push people away. I don’t let anyone in. And I don’t want to hurt you."

Seungmin took a step closer, his voice soft but firm. "Y/N, I know you’re used to keeping people at arm’s length. But you don’t have to do that with me. I care about you. More than you know."

Y/N’s heart was pounding, and she could feel the walls she had built around herself starting to crumble. "Seungmin, I... I care about you too. But I’m scared. Scared of messing this up, scared of losing you."

Seungmin smiled, his thumb gently brushing over her hand. "You’re not going to lose me. Not unless you want to."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his. And in that moment, she knew. She knew that he meant every word, that he wasn’t going anywhere. And for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she could let someone in.

"Seungmin," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I... I think I’m falling for you."

Seungmin’s heart soared, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. "Y/N, I’ve been falling for you since the moment I met you."

And then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of a touch, as if he was giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But Y/N didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the music that played softly in the background. Seungmin’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss became more passionate, more urgent. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, her heart racing as she lost herself in the moment.

The air in Y/N’s apartment was thick with emotion, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every touch more electric. Their kiss had started softly, a tentative exploration of feelings they had both been holding back for so long. But as the seconds turned into minutes, the intensity grew, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt both natural and exhilarating.

Seungmin’s hands trembled slightly as they rested on Y/N’s waist, his touch gentle but firm, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he held on too tightly. Y/N, on the other hand, clung to him, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as if she could erase the space between them entirely.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts. Seungmin’s eyes searched hers, his voice soft but filled with concern. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

Y/N smiled, her hands moving to cup his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “This… you… it feels right.”

Seungmin’s breath hitched at her words, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and affection. Then, slowly, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more deliberate. It was as if her reassurance had unlocked something in him, a floodgate of emotions he had been holding back for far too long.

Their movements became more urgent, their hands exploring each other with a newfound sense of freedom. Y/N’s fingers found the hem of Seungmin’s shirt, tugging it upward until he pulled away just long enough to discard it. His hands followed suit, gently removing her sweater and letting it fall to the floor. The cool air of the room brushed against their skin, but neither of them noticed—they were too consumed by the heat of the moment.

Seungmin’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made Y/N shiver. She tilted her head back, her hands gripping his shoulders as she whispered his name, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through him. He paused, looking up at her with a mixture of desire and reverence. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him back into a kiss that was filled with all the words they hadn’t said yet. It was a kiss that spoke of trust, of vulnerability, of a connection that went beyond the physical.

As they moved toward the bed, their movements were slow and deliberate, each touch filled with intention. Seungmin’s hands roamed over her skin, mapping every curve as if he was committing her to memory. Y/N’s breath hitched as his fingers traced the line of her spine, her own hands exploring the planes of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

When they finally lay down together, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, their bodies pressed close, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in each other. Seungmin’s lips found hers again, his kiss tender but insistent, as if he was trying to convey everything he felt but couldn’t put into words.

Y/N’s hands moved to the waistband of his pants, her fingers trembling slightly as she hesitated. Seungmin noticed and pulled back, his eyes searching hers. “We can stop,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “Whenever you want, we can stop.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “I don’t want to stop,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I want this. I want you.”

Seungmin’s breath caught at her words, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his heart swelling with affection. Then, slowly, he nodded, his hands moving to help her as they shed the last barriers between them.

As the night wore on, their passion ebbed and flowed, each moment filled with a sense of discovery. Seungmin’s hands were gentle but firm, his touch sending shivers down Y/N’s spine as he explored every inch of her. Y/N, in turn, clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she whispered his name, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through him.

When they finally reached their peak, it was with a sense of completeness, as if they had finally found the missing piece of themselves in each other. They lay together afterward, their bodies tangled, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Seungmin’s arms were wrapped around her, his chin resting on top of her head as he pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Y/N stirred awake, her body still humming with the lingering sensations of the night before. For a moment, she lay still, her mind replaying the memories of their intimate connection, the way Seungmin had held her, touched her, whispered her name like it was the most precious sound in the world.

She turned her head slightly, her breath catching as she saw him lying beside her. Seungmin was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, one arm draped loosely over her waist. His face was relaxed, the usual sharp edges of his features softened in sleep. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Careful not to wake him, she shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to get a better look at him. Her fingers hovered over his face, tracing the lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips without actually touching him. She marveled at how peaceful he looked, how vulnerable. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, and it made her fall for him even more.

As if sensing her gaze, Seungmin’s eyes fluttered open, his sleepy gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he just stared at her, his expression soft and unguarded. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as the memories of the previous night came flooding back. “Did you sleep okay?”

Seungmin chuckled, his hand moving to rest on her hip. “Better than okay,” he said, his tone teasing. “Though I think you might’ve had something to do with that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” Seungmin said, his grin widening. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead in a soft kiss. “But seriously, are you okay? Last night was… a lot.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “I’m more than okay,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “It was perfect, Seungmin. You were perfect.”

They lay there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside their little bubble feeling distant and unimportant. But eventually, the reality of the day began to creep in, and Y/N sighed, reluctantly pulling away.

“We should probably get up,” she said, though she made no move to actually leave the bed. “The others are going to wonder where we are.”

Seungmin groaned, pulling her back into his arms. “Let them wonder,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair. “I’m not ready to share you yet.”

Y/N laughed, the sound warm and melodic. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you,” Seungmin replied, his tone light but his words filled with meaning. He finally let her go, sitting up and stretching as he glanced around the room. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Y/N shrugged, sitting up as well and pulling the blanket around her shoulders. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could grab breakfast and then head to the studio. We still have a lot of work to do on the album.”

Seungmin nodded, though his expression turned thoughtful. “About that… do you think we should tell the others? About us, I mean.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twisting the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve been subtle. They’ve probably already figured it out.”

Seungmin chuckled, reaching over to take her hand. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But still, it feels like something we should do. You know, make it official.”

Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. “Okay,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s tell them. But maybe after breakfast. I’m starving.”

Seungmin laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Deal. But first, shower. You’re not going anywhere smelling like that.”

Y/N gasped, playfully swatting his arm. “Excuse me? You’re one to talk!”

Seungmin grinned, dodging her next swipe as he climbed out of bed. “Come on, I’ll race you to the bathroom.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she watched him go. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this light, this happy. 

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Y/N’s apartment, casting a warm glow over the room. Seungmin and Y/N were in the middle of getting ready for the day, the easy rhythm of their movements a testament to the newfound comfort they had found in each other. Seungmin stood behind Y/N, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned slightly forward, tying her hair into a messy bun. His chin rested on her shoulder, his lips occasionally brushing against her neck in a way that made her shiver.

“Minnie,” Y/N said softly, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You’re going to make me mess up my hair.”

Seungmin chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, his voice low and warm against her ear.

Before Y/N could retort, the sound of Seungmin’s phone ringing cut through the quiet morning. He groaned, reluctantly letting go of her to fish his phone out of his pocket. When he saw Bang Chan’s name on the screen, he sighed and answered, putting it on speaker without thinking.

“Seungmin, where are you?” Bang Chan’s voice boomed through the phone, loud enough that Y/N could hear it clearly. “We’ve been waiting for you at the studio for over an hour. Are you still asleep?”

Seungmin winced, glancing at Y/N, who was trying—and failing—to stifle her laughter. “Uh, no, I’m not asleep,” he said, his voice slightly sheepish. “I’m just… running a little late.”

“A little late?” Bang Chan’s tone was incredulous, and in the background, the sound of the other Stray Kids members chiming in could be heard. “Seungmin, we have a schedule. You can’t just—”

Before Bang Chan could finish, Mia’s voice cut through the chaos. “Wait, is Y/N there too? Seungmin, are you with Y/N?”

Seungmin froze, his eyes widening as he realized the call was on speaker and everyone in the studio could hear. Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly turned to him, mouthing, *“Hang up!”*

But it was too late. The boys erupted into a chorus of teasing, their voices overlapping as they tried to get more information.

“Seungmin and Y/N? Together? Since when?” Felix’s voice was filled with excitement.

“Oh, I *knew* it!” Hyunjin exclaimed, his tone triumphant. “I called it weeks ago!”

“Seungmin, you dog!” Changbin added, his laughter echoing through the phone.

Bang Chan, ever the leader, tried to regain control of the conversation. “Alright, alright, calm down. Seungmin, are you seriously late because you’re with Y/N? Do you know how unprofessional—”

Y/N had heard enough. She reached over and snatched the phone from Seungmin’s hand, her voice calm but firm as she interrupted Bang Chan. “Chan, we’ll be there in 40 minutes. Stop yelling at him. And tell the others to mind their own business.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by a burst of laughter from the group. “Y/N, is that you?” Jisoo’s voice came through, tinged with amusement. “Wow, you’re already defending him. Cute.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her cheeks burning. “We’ll see you soon,” she said, ignoring Jisoo’s comment. “Bye.”

She ended the call before anyone else could say anything, tossing the phone back to Seungmin, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Bossy,” he said, his tone teasing as he stepped closer to her. “I like it.”

Y/N shot him a look, though there was no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky I ended that call. They were about to roast you alive.”

Seungmin shrugged, his arms sliding around her waist again. “Let them. I don’t care what they say. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she reached up to gently cup his face. “You’re such a sap,” she said, her voice filled with affection.

Seungmin leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss. “Only for you,” he murmured.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of Y/N’s phone buzzing. She sighed, pulling away to check the message. “Mia says if we’re not at the studio in 15 minutes, she’s sending a search party.”

Seungmin groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “Do we *have* to go?”

Y/N laughed, giving him a gentle push. “Yes, we have to go. Come on, Minnie. Let’s get this over with.”

As they finished getting ready and headed out the door, Seungmin couldn’t help but smile. Despite the teasing they were bound to face, he felt a sense of contentment he hadn’t known before. With Y/N by his side, he felt like he could handle anything—even the chaos of their friends.

The studio was unusually quiet when Seungmin and Y/N walked in, each holding a coffee in hand. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, all eyes turned in their direction. The silence was deafening, the kind of quiet that made it clear everyone had been waiting for this moment. 

Y/N, ever the picture of calm confidence, didn’t miss a beat. She turned to Seungmin, her lips curving into a soft smile, and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth. “See you later, Minnie,” she said, her voice light and casual, as if she hadn’t just sent the entire room into shock.

Seungmin, for his part, stood frozen for a moment, his cheeks tinged with pink as he watched her walk away toward her art studio. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, even as he felt the weight of everyone’s stares.

The silence lasted all of three seconds before the room erupted.

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” Hyunjin shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

“Did she just—? Did he just—? WHAT?!” Felix stammered, his eyes wide as saucers.

Bang Chan, ever the leader, was the first to recover. He crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Seungmin. “So. You two, huh?”

Seungmin shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the grin on his face gave him away. “Yeah. We’re… together. Officially.”

The room exploded into cheers and laughter, the boys clapping Seungmin on the back and teasing him mercilessly. Meanwhile, Mia and Jisoo exchanged a triumphant look before bolting out of the room, their footsteps echoing as they chased after Y/N.

In the art studio, Y/N was already seated at her desk, her sketchpad open and her coffee steaming beside her. She looked up as the door flew open, revealing Mia and Jisoo, both out of breath but grinning from ear to ear.

“You did it!” Mia exclaimed, slamming the door shut behind her. “You finally made it official!”

Jisoo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “This is amazing! Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this? We had a whole *plan* to get you two together!”

Y/N blinked, her pen pausing mid-sketch. “A plan? What are you talking about?”

Mia plopped down on the couch, her grin widening. “Oh, you know. The late-night studio sessions. The ‘accidental’ alone time. The walking-home-together thing. All of it. We’ve been scheming for weeks.”

Y/N stared at them, her mouth opening and closing as she processed this information. “You… you *planned* this?”

Jisoo nodded, looking far too proud of herself. “Every single detail. And it worked, didn’t it?”

Y/N shook her head, a laugh bubbling up in her chest. “You two are unbelievable.”

Back in the main studio, Seungmin was still being bombarded with questions and teasing from the boys. 

“So, how long has this been going on?” Changbin asked, his tone full of mischief.

Just then, Mia and Jisoo burst back into the room, their faces glowing with excitement. “Guess what?” Mia announced, her voice carrying over the noise. “Y/N just found out about our plan!”

Seungmin’s eyes widened. “Wait, what plan?”

Jisoo grinned, crossing her arms. “The plan to get you two together. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Seungmin stared at them, his mouth hanging open. “You… you *planned* this?”

Mia nodded, looking far too pleased with herself. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Seungmin groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I knew we could’ve stayed in bed.”

The room erupted into laughter, the boys doubling over as Seungmin buried his face in his hands. 

“Seungmin!” Felix gasped between laughs. “You’re killing me!”

“Stay in bed?!” Hyunjin repeated, clutching his stomach. “Oh, this is too good.”

Epilogue

-

The studio was alive with its usual energy, the hum of creativity filling the air as the group worked on finalizing the album. Seungmin, however, found his attention drifting. His eyes kept wandering toward the door of Y/N’s art studio, his mind replaying the events of the morning. The way she’d kissed him in front of everyone, the way she’d confidently walked away, leaving him to deal with the chaos—it all made his heart race in the best way.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He excused himself from the vocal booth, ignoring the knowing smirks from the other members, and made his way to her studio. When he reached the door, he leaned casually against the frame, his arms crossed as he watched her work.

Y/N was seated at her desk, her sketchpad open and her headphones on. She was completely absorbed in her work, her brow furrowed in concentration as she added intricate details to the album cover design. Seungmin couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was so focused, so passionate, and it was one of the many things he loved about her.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, catching her attention. Y/N looked up, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before a soft smile spread across her face. She pulled off her headphones and set them aside. “Hey,” she said, her voice warm. “What’s up?”

Seungmin pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Just wanted to check on you,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes filled with affection. “You’ve been in here all day.”

Y/N shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Just trying to get this design finished. You know how it is.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence as Seungmin stepped closer, his hands resting on the back of her chair. “So,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone, “I was thinking… tonight. Mine or yours?”

Y/N looked up at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

Seungmin smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know. Where are we sleeping tonight? Mine or yours?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh. “Seungmin!” she exclaimed, swatting his arm. “You can’t just say things like that!”

Seungmin chuckled, leaning down so his face was level with hers. “Why not? It’s a valid question.”

Y/N shook her head, though she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

His grin widening. “But seriously, what do you think? Your place is closer, but mine has better snacks.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing as she looked up at him. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

Seungmin shook his head, his expression softening. “Nope. Not until you give me an answer.”

Y/N sighed, though there was no real annoyance in it. “Fine,” she said, her voice teasing. “Yours. But only because I’m curious about these so-called ‘better snacks.’”

Seungmin’s face lit up, and he straightened, looking far too pleased with himself. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m not sharing the good stuff.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “You’re such a dork.”

Seungmin leaned down again, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss. “Your dork,” he murmured.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she reached up to gently cup his face. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Mine.”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly outside the door. They pulled apart just as the door swung open, revealing Mia and Jisoo, both wearing identical smirks.

“Are you two done being adorable yet?” Mia asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve got work to do, you know.”

Jisoo nodded, crossing her arms. “Yeah, save the lovey-dovey stuff for after hours.”

Seungmin groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You two are the worst.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she stood up.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Bruises

Bruises - or ecchymoses

A discoloration and tenderness of the skin or mucous membranes.

Due to the leakage of blood from an injured blood vessel into the tissues.

Pupura - bruising as the result of a disease condition.

A very small bruise is called a petechia.

These often appear as many tiny red dots clustered together, and could indicate a serious problem.

Pattern of a Bruise

Bruises change colors over time in a predictable pattern, so it is possible to estimate when an injury occurred by the color of the bruise.

Initially, a bruise will be reddish, the color of the blood under the skin.

After one to two days, the red blood cells begin to break down, and the bruise will darken to a blue or purplish color.

This fades to green at about day 6.

Around the 8th or 9th day, the skin over the bruised area will have a brown or yellowish appearance, and it will gradually diminish back to its normal color.

Long periods of standing will cause the blood that collects in a bruise to seep through the tissues.

Bruises are actually made of little pools of blood, so the blood in one place may flow downhill after awhile and appear in another.

For instance, bruising in the back of the abdomen may eventually appear in the groin; bruising in the thigh or the knee will work its way down to the ankle.

The blood under the skin that causes the discoloration of bruising should be totally reabsorbed by the body in 3 weeks or less.

At that time, the skin color should completely return to normal.

Sometimes, a bruise may become solid and increase in size instead of dissolving. This may indicate blood trapped in the tissues, which may be need to be drained. This is referred to as a hematoma.

Less commonly, the body may develop calcium deposits at the injury site in a process called heterotopic ossification.

Treatment

A bruise by itself needs no medical treatment.

It is often recommended that ice packs be applied on and off during the first 24 hours of injury to reduce the bruising.

After that, heat, especially moist heat, is recommended to increase the circulation and the healing of the injured tissues.

Rest, elevation of the affected part, and compression with a bandage will also retard the accumulation of blood.

Rarely, if a bruise is so large that the body cannot completely absorb it or if the site becomes infected, it may have to be surgically removed.

Prevention

Vitamin K promotes normal clotting in the blood, and therefore may help reduce the tendency to bruise easily. Green leafy vegetables, alfalfa, broccoli, seaweed, and fish liver oils are dietary sources of vitamin K.

Other good foods to eat would be those containing bioflavonoids, such as reddish-blue berries. These can assist in strengthening the connective tissue, which will decrease the spread of blood and bruising.

Zinc and vitamin C supplements are also recommended for this.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References Writing Realistic Injuries ⚜ On Anatomy ⚜ Fight Scenes Part 1 2

[causticsodaa]

Sakura’s perspective of Nirei during KEEL

I really appreciate Nii Satoru's brilliant art style and the choices they make with it to convey certain ideas within Wind Breaker, especially the subtle perspectives we see.

In chapter 44 of the manga, Nirei runs away from Suo's protection in a stroke of courage to fight on his own, believing himself to be too weak/unworthy in their situation (as he can't partake in the fight). He attempts to tackle a nearby KEEL member, only to get his face pummeled in by the other members.

This leads to Nirei lying helplessly on the ground, rescinding his initial confidence.

Nirei looks awful here; there’s copious amounts of blood flowing from his nose, bruises/scratches litter his face, and his eyes are rolled back in pain and exhaustion. He simply accepts his fate, and apologizes to Sakura internally before we see a KEEL member supposedly striking Nirei—before the chapter ends on a cliffhanger.

Whats more interesting to me, however, is how that same, vulnerable Nirei is drawn again in chapter 45, this time from Sakura’s POV.

The chapter opens with Sakura busy fighting with KEEL’s members, before he hears Suo yell out Nirei’s name.

He turns to Nirei, and is greeted with a sight that practically traumatizes him:

Unlike the previous chapter, Nirei is drawn significantly differently. Nii-sensei could have just copy and pasted the Nirei from chapter 44, there is a nuance as to why they would put the effort to completely redraw Nirei beat up.

So let’s break down this particular panel:

The first thing of note is that the linework is considerably lighter and looser here, as opposed to Nii Satoru’s usual thick and heavy lineart. This makes Nirei and his features look much more ‘softer’ (and I’ll explain why in a bit).

Alongside this, Nirei’s hair is much more detailed in chapter 45: there are more strands on his head, and there is a substantial amount of shading added. The lines are also curved a little more. This overall contributes to the ‘soft’ effect, but it also has another implication: this moment is so vividly painted in Sakura’s mind that he can remember every feature of Nirei’s defeat in detail.

Nirei’s injuries also seem more uniform, yet faded out, which adds to Sakura’s picturesque perspective.

His uniform jacket has considerably less shading, which augments to the soft and light tone to the panel as well. The buttons [on the jacket and shirt] are drawn much shorter and with minimal detail, possibly to draw more focus onto Nirei’s face. But it also covers more of his body; perhaps it alludes to Sakura not wanting to see Nirei more vulnerable than he already is.

Back to Nirei’s face: his jaw is drawn much more wider and rounder, adding more to the softness effect. This is a strange choice, given that his face was much more sharper (and Nii sensei likes to draw pointier chins for most of their characters). However, rounder faces can be attributed to youthfulness (as babies and young children are usually drawn with them to characterize that aspect, which includes their inherent helplessness.) Simply put, Sakura sees Nirei as incredibly weak and pitiful—almost like a beaten child. This is the main reason why Nii sensei probably drew this scene with much lighter linework.

The feature that sticks out to me the most however is the position of Nirei’s eyes. In chapter 44, his eyes are upwards (for the same reason I mentioned earlier), but in chapter 45, his eyes are more squinted, there are more lines under his eyes (maybe to enunciate his exhaustion/weariness?) and his pupils are looking forward. Since this is from Sakura’s perspective, it’s almost to say that he’s internally accepting the blame for not being a good leader; because his biggest failure is looking right at him with concentrated eyes, subconsciously relaying that this is all Sakura’s fault.

This ties back to Sakura blaming himself at the end of KEEL the irony is so rich it could cure anemia; and the panel even pans to Nirei when verbally acknowledges everyone’s injuries.

And yes, this is entirely Sakura’s own perspective of this scene. Nirei is drawn normally again after the 2-1 trio infiltrate the shipyard:

And whenever Sakura gets his dead wife flashbacks remembers the incident from KEEL, the panel from chapter 45 (ie. Sakura’s memory of it) is displayed rather than the one from chapter 44.

Wow guys I love Nirei and Sakura’s friendship so much!!!!!!!! Everytime I think of them as characters and their relationship and their importance to each other and the story there is a petulant deep ache in my chest and the sorrow that they make me endure further urges me to kill myse

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕭AD HABITS

Manon Bannerman x fem!reader

summary: you knew dating was always going to be hard as an idol, whomever it would be with. you made it clear with manon when she accidentally fell for you—and now she seeks solace in a bad habit, it’s the only time you seem to care about her…

warnings: slight!nsfw, angst, drinking, suggestive/sexual themes (dom!manon), toxic!reader, down-bad!manon

Manon sat at the bar, nursing a glass of bourbon, the amber liquid swirling in her glass as if it could somehow calm the storm raging inside her. She was no stranger to the bar scene, being a big party animal prior to her dream academy days. The bar was dim, barely lit by a few low-hanging lamps, and the low hum of the crowd faded into the background. But all she could hear was the deafening silence in her mind, punctuated by memories she wished she could erase.

She reached for her drink, letting the scratch of alcohol burn its way down her throat and spread through her chest.

It was the only thing that helped—at least for a little while. The warmth that filled her didn’t erase the ache, but it dulled it, enough that she could pretend for a second that things could be different. Nor did the alcohol fill the growing void that seemed to deepen every-time she was ushered out of Y/N’s room late at night. But when she was drowning in alcohol, she wasn’t drowning in the overbearing waters of Y/N L/N.

Katseye was not complete without their centre.

Manon may have been known for her visuals, her undeniable beauty and her irresistible stage presence, but Y/N was the ultimate centre of the group.

Her voice paired Sophia’s well, hitting notes normal humans could only dream of. She made a very visually appealing pair with Daniela, and absolutely aced tiktok dances with Megan. Every fan who had discovered Kasteye fell in love with her, one way or another. Manon was no exception.

Y/N, the one who made her heart beat faster with just a glance, the one whose voice, when it blended with hers during their band's performances, could bring her to tears. Y/N, who had always been just a little bit out of reach.

It was silly, really, to hope that something might come of it.

She remembered the first time they had spent any real time together, alone. They had just moved in and the girls decided on a movie night to break the couch in. When everybody else had retired to their rooms at around one, Manon and Y/N were the only ones left. Y/N wanted to call her parents, to tell them she was well and excited for what’s to come of her career and she didn’t want to keep Lara up with her talking. Manon was just giving Daniela the room to do the same, but she couldn’t help but stare up and away from her phone when Y/N would laugh softly at something her dad had said.

When Y/N bid her parents goodnight, there was a bit of an awkward pause before the two fell into a comfortable flow of casual coversation.

It was supposed to be nothing more than casual. But there was something about the way Y/N looked at her, a softness in her eyes that made Manon’s stomach twist. For a moment, she had believed—no, convinced herself—that Y/N felt the same way she had since they met on dream academy. That the lingering touches, the way she’d laugh a little too loudly when their hands brushed, the crazy eye contact meant something.

And for a while, it had felt like it did.

But that was before she let herself fall too deep into it.

She took another sip of her drink, grimacing at the burn. She should’ve known better. She should’ve seen it for what it was from the start—one of those fleeting moments where people connect, but it doesn’t go anywhere. Where someone gives you just enough to make you believe in a future, only to pull it away when it’s too late to walk away without getting hurt.

One night, just about the same as the first night they found themselves alone, Manon finally caved into the desperate desire gnawing away at her self-control.

They were sitting on the couch, Manon’s arm over the top of the cushions behind Y/N’s shoulders.

They put on this movie Y/N had been nagging Manon to watch with her. It was some stupid feature film Manon can’t even remember the name of. It didn’t matter, the whole time the movie played, the Ghanaian woman could not keep her eyes off the younger singer sitting inches away from her. And after thirty minutes of mustering up what little courage she had—which was unusual for a normally cocky and confident Manon—and slid just a little closer to Y/N.

The younger hadn’t seemed to notice, too entrapped in the movie to feel Manon’s warmth close in on her body.

Manon bit her lip, her eyes darting between the way Y/N’s lashes fluttered with each blink, the way her lips were slightly pursed in anticipation for what the film had in store next.

Manon could hear it, her heart drumming against her chest, as blood pumped frantically to the tips of her ears. When Y/N had suddenly grabbed her thigh in shock at a certain jumpscare on the screen, Manon’s breath hitched. The younger laughed it off, apologizing for the sudden outburst.

But, Manon just grabbed the hand that had retreated.

Instead, the arm that was once resting behind Y/N on the couch swung down to circle around the younger’s waist, lifting her lightly off the cushions to be positioned under Manon.

When Manon was overcome by the urgency in her, she leant in to take Y/N’s lips with her own. She did not push her away, she did not stop her, instead, she moaned against the older woman’s mouth, silenced by another caress of her tongue. Manon pleaded for her to stay quiet, so none of the other girls would be awoken by their activity. Y/N only nodded, seeing stars as her teeth sunk into her hand, the other pushing the Ghanaian’s woman deeper in between her legs.

It was a night that changed her life forever.

Weeks after that night, Y/N found herself craving Manon’s lips pressing burning kisses on her body again. But she promised herself at the very beginning—the day Katseye was born—that she would always put her career first. She didn’t think she’d have to worry about relationships with the dating ban in place. She was too busy to go meet new people anyway, and it was all going good until that night.

Still, she would eventually give in to her desires.

It started off with a simple “Hey, you still up?” text, which would then turn into Manon sneaking into Y/N’s room when Lara would be off spending a late night at the studio.

It was so blissful, the feeling of Manon tasting every inch of skin Y/N had to offer. And Manon would make sure to savour the sweet, sweet tingle of Y/N struggling to keep herself from screaming her name for the entire dorm to hear. Because she knew once she’d come down from her high, the work-obsessed, heartless Y/N would come back.

Manon could still remember that night—all too vividly—the night it all fell apart.

They had been rehearsing in the studio, the girls working through a new song they hear going to record. Y/N had been unusually quiet that day, which, in itself, was strange. Y/N was always the one who would lead the girls in song, who would bridge the gap between a simple song and a work of art. when the tension started to rise. But that day, something was different. Manon felt an unease that settled in her chest.

She had caught Y/N’s eye across the room, offering a smile. But instead of the usual warmth in return, Y/N had looked away almost immediately.

It was no different to the way Y/N would usually respond to her, but the younger woman’s reserved attitude with the others raised all kinds of red flags. It wasn’t anything concrete. But that night, when she would come up to cuddle after cleaning her lips of any remnants of Y/N, the younger would almost inch away with regret. When Manon tried to brush it off and pull the woman closer, to breathe in the faint lavender aroma from her hair, her beautiful voice uttered the nastiest words.

“Lara’s on her way home. Get out.”

That was the exact moment it really sank in for Manon—Y/N wasn’t in love with her the way she was. They were never going to be more than what they were. They were bandmates, colleagues, friends was pushing it, outside that room. Nothing more. And yet, here she was under this woman’s sheets again, clinging to the fantasy, as though it would be enough.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor pulled Manon out of her thoughts. She looked up, blinking away the haze of alcohol. Y/N was standing there, those piercing eyes staring her down. She hesitated for a moment, her gaze softening with an unreadable expression.

“Manon,” Y/N said quietly, walking over to her. Her voice was like a taunt, a cruel reminder of everything she wanted but could never have.

Manon took another drink, not wanting to look up. She wasn’t sure if she could face her—she’d give in again.

“Manon, this is the third time this week,” she said, her voice thick, “The girls are getting worried about you.”

Y/N slid into the space between Manon’s bar stool and the one beside her, her warm breath brushing the Ghanaian woman’s cheek. She waved the bartender over, quickly asking for Manon’s tab before turning to focus on the latter. Her hands rose to brush Manon’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Manon’s chest hurt, she felt like throwing up.

“Just leave me alone,” she sniffed, “I can spend my night off however I like. I’m fine.”

Y/N didn’t want to push her, biting her lip. It was a nervous habit Manon pointed out multiple times, she had done a good job keeping her anxiety in check, but she was really beginning to worry about her. She was just there, existing in the same space, and Manon wanted to believe that was enough.

But it wasn’t. It never was.

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze softening as she studied her.

The bags under Manon’s eyes darkened, her eyes hooded and her lips glossy from a thick coat of liquor. Her shoulders were slumped and she laid across the bar surface.

She was completely wasted.

“You’re not fine. You need to stop drinking.”

Manon’s breath hitched, and—in a sort of protest—she took another long swig of her bourbon, her hand trembling slightly. “I’m just… I’m just tired, okay?”

Y/N sighed, swallowing thickly. She reached out slowly, careful not to move too quick before Manon flinched away. Her fingers grabbed the glass, fingertips gently brushing Manon’s hand as she slowly pulled it away from her grasp. She set it away on the bar, quickly motioning for the bartender to pick it up.

“Come on,” Y/N urged, a hand travelling down the small of Manon’s back, “Let’s go home, Meret. Please?”

Her first name. The only person she allowed to call her by name besides her parents. She absolutely loathed how smoothly it rolled off her tongue, like an enticing purr. It was much more rewarding, hearing it sung from her throat when she was writhing beneath her in bed, but now, it was just another crude reminder Manon wanted gone.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” she whispered, not looking at Y/N. “Why do you keep… pulling me back.”

There was a long pause, the kind of silence that felt like an eternity. Then, Y/N’s hand found hers, gently, as though afraid she might pull away.

“Please,” Y/N said softly. “Not tonight.”

Manon’s breath caught. She felt the rush of emotions she had tried to bury, rising to the surface. But she couldn’t let them take over—not here, not now. Not when it felt like everything was slipping through her fingers.

“Y/N,” she whispered, the words barely a breath. “I love you so much. I need you. Without you, it’s like I don’t know how to breathe… like I don’t know how to live.”

Y/N shook her head. “Stop, please,” she whispered. “I know you’re going through it, but you can’t drink yourself to death.”

“Why not? What’re you gonna do, start acting like you care about me?” Manon’s tears fell freely now, her body shaking with the weight of everything she had tried to keep inside. “Is that what it’ll take for you to love me? For me to die?”

“I do love you. I’m here right now because I love you. And if you truly loved me, you wouldn’t be sitting here while I stay up at night worrying about where you could possibly be.” Y/N shook her head, her own eyes welling with tears, “I had to promise Sophia tonight I’d bring you home. Y’know, the girls are really concerned about you. They’re trying to talk to you, they’re trying to understand you, but you’re pushing them all away.”

“I don’t care about them, I just… I just want you to want me.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, suffocating her. She stepped closer, but the space between them felt impossibly vast, like there was a whole world separating them, and Y/N was afraid she might never be able to overcome it.

"I—" she started, then stopped. She wanted to say the right thing, the thing that would make everything okay.

Manon stood abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the floor, the sound of it echoing in the silence. "You don’t love me, Y/N. You never did and I don’t want to be such an idiot. I don’t want to keep coming back to you and your selfish ways.”

Y/N opened their mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Manon let out a bitter laugh, though it was shaky, almost hysterical. "Every time, I kept waiting, kept thinking maybe you’d see me, maybe you'd love me the way I love you. But you never do. And I’m so stupid, Y/N. So fucking stupid."

Y/N’s heart was hammering in their chest, their hands trembling as they took a step toward Manon, reaching out as though to bridge the distance between them.

“Meret, I’m begging you. Let me take you home.”

How could she say no to her? To the love of her life?

Y/N reached out again, her hands still. She tucked a rogue braid behind Manon’s ear, taking her leaning into her hand as a “yes” to guiding her out the bar and into Y/N’s BMW outside.

The drive home, Manon had dozed off, her body sluggish in the passenger seat as Y/N glanced back and forth between the road and the woman. It wasn’t long before she pulled into the driveway of Katseye’s dorm. She carefully assisted Manon’s limp body through the door and up the stairs, careful to stay quiet as to not wake the other girls. She could see Sophia standing in her doorway, giving her a nod before retiring to her room for the night.

When Manon was tucked into bed, her clothes stripped of and changed into her pjs, Y/N carefully tiptoed her way into Manon and Daniela’s bathroom, grabbing cotton pads and makeup remover to clean the smudged mascara from the Ghanaian woman’s features.

Y/N made sure the older woman was nestled under her blankets comfortably, brushing her hair from her face as she sat bedside and stared.

Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, Y/N left the room.

Maybe just for another night, Manon’s receiving the affection she craved. Whether she was aware of it or not.

[tojisrealwifey]

needy alarm cocks

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: you wake up to gojo' head between your thighs but are still craving for more. so, you turn to your boyfriend, toji.

・❥・characters: gojo satoru and fushiguro toji.

・❥・requests : rules

warnings: mdni, polyamorous relationship, somnophilia, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), fingering, sixty-nine (kinda but not really), no protection, heavy squirting, hints of overstimulation, aftercare implied but not written 

・❥・wc: 2.6k

・❥・masterlist

Hot. Wet. Sweaty. Those were the first things you felt as you came to. Your eyes barely open as your sight was blurry from unshed tears.

You had just awoken from having a wet dream, your boyfriends fucking you into oblivion at a drive-in theatre.

The scene of such a theatre was featured in a movie you watched right before going to bed, and your first thought had been how it would feel to be fucked in such a setting.

Such thoughts were probably the catalyst that incited the wet dream in the first place.

Taking a few moments to regain your footing, you continued to heave out breaths, trying your best to open your eyes completely.

Strangely enough, your lower abdomen still felt tight, body feeling fuzzy for some reason. As you finally opened your eyes, you immediately saw ocean blue.

Meeting your boyfriend's eyes, you let out a gasp from seeing him hold you in such a promiscuous position.

He had your left leg flung over his shoulder, cheek resting against your thigh as he kitten-licked your pussy. Not once did he break eye contact.

You slowly turn your head to the right to see your boyfriend, Toji, still asleep. As ecstatic as this felt you didn't want to accidentally wake him up, knowing well how hard it is for him to catch sleep.

"S-so good, 'toru~...But- it's so l-late! Go to sleep..." You whisper, hand moving to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"How can I sleep with your squirming against my dick, baby?" He coos licking a stripe of your leaking entrance.

"W-what—?"

"Woke up to you whimpering like a kitty, love. Had a wet dream did you? Suppose it was good 'cause your panty here is drenched." He says before finally pressing his tongue flat against you.

You muffle a moan by biting your lip, eyes falling on your panties that bunched up on your right thigh, and he was right.

The garment was indeed drenched, the crotch area a darker blue in contrast to the original light blue.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the sight, growing red when you feel Satoru's tongue against your slit.

The tip of his tongue rested right beneath your entrance, meaning the wider part of his muscle was pressed against your puffy folds.

You could feel his breath come in intervals, your sex growing warmer due to this. Since you were already teeming with pleasure due to your dream, you were on the edge of cumming without Satoru having to do much.

So when he started to suck your folds, your back was arching off the bed. The soft squelches and slurps burn your ears as the tears finally flow down the side, disappearing into your scalp.

His tongue delved deeper, nose pressed against your clit for added stimuli as he breathed against your skin.

Something about getting eaten out right next to your sleeping boyfriend really turned you on, and you were almost tempted to moan out loud and wake him up.

But you don't give in to your lust-filled brain and continue to clamp your hand over your mouth.

Satoru didn't stop his ministrations, even as your fluids soaked his lower face and continued to flow down his neck, some dripping off his chin.

When he felt your spongy walls spasm, his teeth softly bit your clit resulting in you cumming hard on his face, your cum flowing out and onto his hand.

Satoru pumped his fingers diligently against your g-spot to prolong your release. Eyes rolling to the back, your toes curled at the intensity as Satoru cleaned up all of your arousal before moving away from you, revealing his damp face.

He brings a finger to the side of his lip, wiping a bit of your slick and slipping it in his mouth, sending a wink your way as he does.

"W-where are you going?" You ask softly when he gets off the bed and starts to walk towards the bedroom door.

"Gonna take shower, pretty girl. My shirt's all wet 'cause of you. Wanna join?" He asks looking back at you.

"No...I-I'm gonna need a moment." You replied, still heaving small breaths as Satoru chuckled.

"Not surprised, you came pretty hard there! Well, I'm just that good, hahahah!"

You had definitely stroked his ego, you had no doubt he was brimming with pride as he showered.

You had finally calmed down a bit, but the throbbing in your cunt never diminished. Still feeling heady, you brought one hand to your breast that was constricted behind your dainty slip.

You whimpered when you brought your other hand to your pussy, feeling the slippery wetness connecting with your fingertips.

You discreetly look to the side to spare a glance at your still-asleep boyfriend. You argued back and forth in your mind, having internal conflicts with your brain, one side telling you to not ruin his sleep, the other saying fuck it and fuck him.

And against your better judgment, you went with the latter, telling yourself you will make up to him later.

You get on your hands and knees, sitting beside his huge build, planning on your next actions. You bite your lip shyly when you gain a filthy idea, wasting no time to execute it.

Swinging your right leg over to his other side, you straddle his stomach, cunt hovering over his bare abdomen.

Your deft hands work swiftly in pulling down his sweatpants, sparing another look back to make sure he is asleep before you start to palm him softly.

You were already feeling hazy, it was taking everything in you to not grind against Toji's sculpted skin but didn't want him to wake up abruptly.

As you continued to massage your hand against him, you felt him stir beneath you. Turning slightly, you examine his face, watching his eyebrows pinch slightly, the scar tugging up with his lip.

He was still asleep but was surely feeling this. Once his girth starts to rise, you slowly lean forward, lowering yourself till your lips are close to his length.

Initiating with small licks, you dually worked to get his dick wet, wanting it to be harder. He was thick and heavy against your palm, his length nudging your hairline every time you worked closer to the base.

Your four fingers barely just barely connected with your thumb as you enclose your hand around his girth.

The sight never failed to make you drool, feeling a phantom stretch of every time his cock had been in you.

Finally, you wrapped your tongue around his tip, going to encase your mouth around him, slowly working his cock deeper into your mouth.

A gag broke through you when the head of his cock first touched the back of your throat, tears quickly pricking your eyes from the reflex.

You continued at a tormenting pace, hoping Toji was growing hotter at your touch.

He was.

Seeing your ass in his face was not something he expected to see after waking up. Your body bent over his abdomen, warm mouth wrapped around his cock.

The hem of your slip was not touching your stomach, giving him a view of your plump underboobs, the fabric constricting your puckered nipples.

From there he could also see your neck, eyeing the prominent bulge from throating his cock making him twitch in your mouth.

Your bare pussy was on display for him, the grool forming a puddle on his abs as it connected to your sopping hole with a clear string.

It wasn't uncommon for Satoru or him to wake you up in the middle of the night with your cunt wrapped around their cocks, or their tongues inside your walls, but this was the first time where you had been the one to initiate this.

You're not one to make the first move, even in sex, so he immediately knew that you had either been woken up by Satoru, or you woke up needy after a wet dream.

In reality, it was both.

He didn't hesitate to wipe two fingers against his stomach, scooping up your arousal and plunging them in your hole, wanting to watch it drip out again.

"Mmphh!"

You sputtered around his cock, eyes rolling back, but continued your movements. His salty taste melted against your tastebuds as you took him deeper.

"Isn't this a pretty sight..." Toji's rasped out, voice still rough from just waking up. His fingers bullied into your cunt, his fingertips pressing against the ceiling.

"Mmph! Ngh~ T-ah!-oji N-need more!"

"What was that, doll?" He hummed teasingly, his other hand squeezing the flesh of your ass.

"I-It hurts...I'm so- ngh! wet...need you s-so bad~"

You begged once you freed his cock from your mouth. Your moans grew louder as Toji's fingers worked deeper into you.

"Fuuh...-uck!! N-need more than that!"

Toji grinned devilishly at your words, and although you couldn't see it, you had certainly sensed it when another finger slipped into you.

His thick digits slowed down their pace, torturing you as you dripped down his arm. Your slick had trailed down his hand to which it was dripping off his elbow, making it apparent just how desperate you were.

"This wet from sucking my cock, doll? Or did the blindfold freak fuck you?" He asks, spitting on his other hand to rub it on your clit.

"B-both!"

"Oh? How'd he fuck you?" He pries, thumb luring you with its torment on your swollen clit.

"With h-his mouth..ngh~ He woke me u-up, saying my panties were wet...ahh~ 'cause o-of the dream I had..."

"Dream? Tell me, what happened in the dream." You freeze at his request, hesitating. You contemplated detracting him but knowing how you had disturbed his sleep, you decided to be honest.

"W-we were in your- ngh~! your car. 'Toru was fingering me in the b-backseat while you fucked my m-mouth!"

Your words came out extremely incoherent, struggling to form any words with Toji's fingers stuffed in your cunt.

"Fuck, you're so fuckin' filthy baby. Is that why I woke up to my cock in your mouth?" You nod in confirmation, cheeks heating up when he a gave a single thrust with his fingers.

"Fucked your mouth...in a car. Dirty girl...need to try that someday." Toji says with a nasty smirk on his face.

"Toji! Please!"

You pleaded hips moving back against his hand.

"Gonna have to work for it, baby." He teased, fingers now out of you as they pressed against your puffy cunt, rubbing softly.

You registered his words in your mind, taking the hint to move. You crawled forward till your pussy rested right against his thickness.

His cock was already wet with his pre-cum and your spit, making it a lot easier to slip him in, with a bit of difficulty of course.

Even after years, you fit him like a glove that was too tight. You knew that you would never get used to his size, feeling the familiar stretch prick tears in your eyes due to the sting.

He slowly sat up, broad chest pressed against your back. His hands fondled your breasts as you tried to accommodate his length.

Squirming against him, you look down to admire the exhibit. Your cunt wrapped prettily around him, enveloping him to the base as his trimmed hair was covered in your slick and spit.

His hand worked to pull one tit out, tugging at your nub. The straps of your slip were off your shoulders, barely hanging by a thread as it pathetically covered only half of your other tit.

You started to move, hips moving up and down at a steady speed. His lips met your neck, suckling on the sensitive skin as you moaned.

"Doing so good, doll. But, you need to move faster." He nips at your ear as you nod at his request, picking up your speed.

Your pace grew relentless as you trusted against him, Toji's hips bucking up occasionally to meet you.

"Taking me so good, look so pretty, baby." He praised against your neck as you cried out, feeling his tip hitting your cervix.

"F-feels so good..."

"Fuck...such a perfect pussy, so fucking tight like she doesn't get stuffed every night." Toji's praises flowed like honey in your veins, his tone sweet in contrast to his filthy words.

Since you were taking every inch of him, you had to lift your hips higher than it would normally require, mainly because Toji's thighs occupied too much space.

Your bare breasts bounced with every move, Toji having slipped off your camisole while you were too engrossed in bouncing on his cock.

Feeling the growing strain in your thighs, you snivel a bit, faltering in your thrusts. The amount of endorphins your body released might have been the only reason you pushed yourself to thrust harder despite the ache in your legs.

Toji looked from over your shoulder, admiring the ring of cream that formed around the base of his cock.

"Gonna cum over my cock, pretty doll? Can feel you gushing..." You nod dumbly, head pushed back against his shoulder as you continue to moan.

"Gonna cum-! cum f-for you...Ngh! Fill me, so good-"

Your blabbering intensifies as the coil tugs harder in your abdomen, not holding back your whorish moans as you chanted Toji's name.

"Pretty pussy, pretty face crying on my cock. Makes me want to breed this little hole." He hissed feeling his own cock swell up.

"Yes! Please! Want y-your cum! W-want you!"

Slurring over your words, your throat closes up before releasing a high-pitched moan. Your pussy gushes out your cum, convulsing around him.

When Toji notices the first spray of liquid, his hand moves to your cunt and starts to rub your clit aggressively.

His movements encourage your pussy to spray out even more, making you squirt heavily as you watch the liquid fall onto the mattress, completely soaking it.

Your legs tremble, thighs spasming from your intense orgasm. You fall back onto Toji, no longer having to energy or the brainpower to continue thrusting.

"That was so. fucking. beautiful. Pretty baby's all fucked out, wanna see you cum on my face like that."

He coos, now moving to thrust upwards into you, back against the headboard.

"T-toji baby. Please cum in me..."

You whimper out, face showing pure bliss as you press your cheek against his neck, nose touching his adam's apple.

"Fuhhck...wanna fill you so bad, doll. But can't do that..."

He breathes out, feeling your pussy still gripping him in anticipation. He grasps your waist, slipping you off his dick as your face falls on the wet mattress, your hands beside your head.

Toji finally orgasms, gritting his teeth in pleasure. The white liquid comes out in a few long spurts as they fall onto your ass, some dripping right onto your swollen and wet pussy.

Toji takes a few moments to breathe, watching your face as your cheek rests against the bed. He reaches out his hand, soothing it over your back.

Your heart hammered right against his palm, telling him that you were still recovering from your orgasm.

He gets out of bed to fetch a cloth to wipe the mess off of you before he is interrupted by a whistle.

"That was a great show, never seen her squirt like that. Got room for another?" Satoru strides into the room, walking to the opposite bedside wanting to admire you.

Your expression was fucked out and he was not sure if your eyes had even registered his presence.

His fingers suddenly touched your pussy, making you jolt harshly. His digits rub your cunt, spreading Toji's cum to make your folds wetter.

He moves swiftly to hook his middle and ring finger in you. You mewl in discomfort, clearly sensitive to the touch.

"Let her be, she's swollen. It's only gonna hurt her if you touch her." Toji says roughly, glaring at the younger male, who returns the favor.

Three years into this relationship, and they still only tolerated each other for your sake.

"What a pity—" Mid-sentence, he gives you one last thrust against your g-spot making you spurt out another stream of liquid. You cry out, pussy already gushing around his fingers.

"—I really wanted to fuck her." He completes, pulling his fingers out after pressing a small kiss on your lower back.

He walks towards the door, playing with your slick on his fingers.

"Make sure to clean everything up! 'M not gonna help cause I just showered. Bye-bye!" He waves back at Toji with the same hand, displaying your arousal dripping down his knuckles as he walks out.

Toji just clicks his tongue.

"Fuckin' brat."

[riki-dazed]

You get into a bad argument with your boyfriend, Riki. The evening proceeds to end in a very unexpected way.

NSFW smut · block & don't read if you're uncomfortable · toxicity, cursing, pure angsty, smutty filth with a touch of softness at the end,, call it a heart-wrenching rollercoaster, if you will · wc · 1774 · requested

"You always find something about me to complain about," You cried, throwing your hands in the air as you stormed about Riki's tension-filled room in frustration, looking for your belongings.

"You're being dramatic," He snapped back as his eyes watched you from the door way, his gaze piercing. "Just say you regret ever becoming my girlfriend,"

Something within you snapped after Riki got home in a bad mood and decided to take out his frustrations on you. You couldn't control your emotions, considering it wasn't the first time he had done that. The both of you have already had to deal with a couple of arguments in the short time since you started dating, which was leading you to believe that you just simply weren't compatible for him in that sense. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were worried since the very beginning of the relationship. You and Riki spent many years as very close friends, you loved him dearly. More than any other friend. The thought of a relationship ruining things between the two of you scared you to death, though, Riki reassured you everything would be okay.

Until it wasn't.

His facial expression changed as he noticed you starting to pile clothes into one of your bags, his heart began to sink. He wanted to stop you but he didn't know how to approach the situation, he had never seen you that angry and upset in all of the years he had known you. The longer he watched you irritably pack your belongings, the tighter the feeling within his chest grew. The realization was starting to eat at him. He knew he messed up again, big time.

He watched you silence as your tears didn't stop flowing.

"Good fucking job for ruining this, Riki, I told you countless times how worried I was for us at the start,"

"Can you just stop and fucking talk to me," His voice began to tremble, his hands found their way into his hair and tugged at the strands.

"What's there to talk about? I do regret becoming your girlfriend!"

Although Riki was an emotional person, he was never great at expressing those said emotions. You kept your eyes off him, though, knowing how he affects you when he's upset. You cared for him so deeply, you'd cross oceans if you had to in order to comfort your boy, and by the sound of his voice, you could just tell his nonchalant composure was nowhere to be found anymore.

His tall frame stopped you in your tracks, his hands found their way to your shoulders as he towered over you. For someone so big compared to your frame, his voice sounded small.

"You don't mean that,"

"Get off me," You almost yelled, your eyes stayed focused on the floor, not daring to look at his face. Your body twisted and turned as it tried to get out of his grasp.

After not being able to break out of his hold, your tear-filled eyes finally looked up at Riki's. His bottom lip was quivering, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill. You had never seen his face look like that. Before you could process anything, Riki pulled you into his chest. His arms clung around you tightly, he was so afraid to let you go. Your arms stayed swinging by your sides as you stood against his warm chest, letting out silent cries as your tears continued to pour. Your eyes screwed shut.

Riki couldn't hold his emotions back after scenes of a life without you in it flashed throughout his mind. That was the first time he allowed himself to be so incredibly vulnerable in front of anyone, ever. Even you.

"You don't mean that," Riki repeated, he was crying into the crook of your neck. The sounds of his sniffles only made your tears fall harder. You raised your arms slightly, grasping the sides of his shirt within your hands.

"Y/n," His voice broke the sorrowful, long silence. He lifted his head from where it was settled beside your neck, and wiped at your tears with his thumbs. "Let me show you how much you mean to me,"

Your eyes drifted from his gaze, unsure of how to reply to him, "Riki.."

"Please," He pleaded, attaching his quivering, pillowy lips to one of your tear-stained cheeks.

One thing lead to another, and before you knew it, you were suddenly sat on the edge of Riki's bed. Your face was still struck by pain, you couldn't even force the frown off it. He stood in front of you, pulling his hoodie over his head. Your gaze lifted, eyes scanning him carefully as he revealed his breathtakingly toned body, you were sure it was sculpted by the gods. Silence continued to engulf the tension-filled room as your hands got to work on Riki's belt, one of his hands simultaneously pushed damp strands of hair out of your face. You shuffled your body backwards across the soft sheets, your eyes not leaving his. He climbed onto the bed after stepping out of his jeans, he followed after you and propped his body above yours.

Riki's woeful gaze burned into yours for what felt like an eternity.. Before his lips met yours in a fervent hunger. He kissed you like he had never kissed you before. Your tear-stained cheeks met his ones as he deepened the kiss, your mouth being entirely engulfed by his. Your breaths mingled, hot and heavy as you let his tongue fight against yours. The kiss spoke volumes without words, it expressed every single pent-up emotion he had buried deep within himself.

You couldn't believe this was how he was going to take your virginity, and you, his. While you were painfully upset at him. You thought about how you had different plans for how you wanted your first time to go, though, your focus was shifted back onto Riki as you felt him slightly lift your oversized shirt. He left gentle kisses across the skin on your abdomen, in which left you with chills running up your spine. He then tugged at the waistband of your sweatpants, helping you take them off. He left another trail of wet kisses up your legs and thighs, stopping at your soaked panties, almost drooling over the sight. Riki's eyes, puffy and red, found yours again. You gave him a nod, reassuring him that he could proceed.

His hands tugged the soft fabric down, his lips placing a kiss where your body needed him the most. He slipped a finger between your folds, wanting to ensure you were ready for him. Your body reacted immediately, your hips lifted off the bed and into his touch. He lips traveled up your body, and found their way back to yours in a sweet kiss. He reached a hand between your bodies, tugging at his boxers.

His voice was gentle as you felt him rub his length against your wetness, "Ready?"

"Yeah," You breathed out,

Riki's gaze didn't leave yours as he pushed himself into your core excruciatingly slowly, eliciting a gasp from you. He groaned at the feeling of having you finally wrapped around him. It took him a few moments to bottom out inside, before he waited for you to adjust to his size. He carefully analyzed your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. You were seeing stars at the feeling and size of him.

Riki became alarmed when he noticed your eyes starting to fill with tears yet again, he wasn't aware of the fact that it was due to how much of an emotional mess you were in the moment. You couldn't deny your anger towards him, yet you also couldn't deny the fact that you loved him more than anything and anyone in the world.

"Keep going," You broke the silence. He kissed your tears away before he began to thrust carefully into you, his gaze switching between your eyes and lips. A finger of yours settled on his bottom lip as you scanned his gorgeous features.

"Does it f-feel okay?" He managed to choke out quietly against your finger, as he continued his actions. Your back arched, your chest pushed against his.

Another moan escaped your lips, "More than okay,"

You could feel your release build up over the next few minutes as he repeatedly hit all of the right spots, he was thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands ran along the soft skin of his back, he was so warm. The thin layer of sweat covering him made his skin glisten.

"Y/n," He panted into your ear, from what you could tell, he was very close, "I'm so sorry,"

You were closer.

A short, high-pitched moan fell out of your lips as you felt yourself come undone, Riki's pace quickened as he chased his own high. You choked out a sentence you had been meaning to tell Riki for a long time, in the middle of it all.

"I- I love you," You cried, barely being able to speak, your hands still stuck to the bed sheets,

Riki's gaze shifted back to your face instantaneously, he thought he was hearing things. His lips bit at yours as he pulled out and released all over your tummy, the sticky liquid felt warm against your skin. He felt another tear run down one of his cheeks, he was so overriden with emotions he didn't know what to do with himself.

"I love you so much more," The boy panted, trying to regain his breath as he laid his head on top of you, his chin nuzzling between your clothed breasts.

You pushed his hair out of his face as you raised an eyebrow at him, your voice tired, "But I'm still angry at you,"

His eyes closed as a light chuckle escaped his mouth, gaze soon softening as he continued to watch your face. Your fingers were still within the messy strands of his hair.

"I can live with that, but I can't live without you,"

His statement felt like a stab at your chest, god, you truly did love him.

"I never regretted becoming yours," You sighed as you suddenly remembered the angry sentence you spat at your boyfriend, just to get a reaction out of him for how he emotionally hurt you.

Riki moved his body to place a kiss on the side of your neck. He nuzzled into the space, his arms hung around your figure. He kept you close.

"I can't live without you either, Riki, we'll work through this."

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[chosocutegf]

jealousy ⋆⭒˚.⋆

ᡣ𐭩 husband!Miguel x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m!receiving), brat taming, size kink if you squint

Miguel was typically quite good at self-control. As a well-known figure in his field, he couldn't afford to get worked up over petty matters. He was regarded as an important figure, so he gradually learned to control his emotions. Nothing could really get him upset, and when he did, he knew how to calm himself down before lashing out at someone else.

However, at that time, he felt so furious that he believed he could turn the world upside down. And he wasn't usually the jealous kind, but his hand held the glass so tightly that he thought he heard a break. So he placed it down, never moving his gaze away from the dance floor, where you were.

He was seated at the bar in the colorful resort where he was staying with you for your vacations, his stare fixed on you the entire time; nothing could take his attention away from you. You were dancing a few steps away from him, with a drink in your hand and a way too short dress that did nothing to cover your plump thighs. He adjusted his cock in his briefs, swearing to himself as he watched you dance around provocatively, your free hand holding your hair up. He felt himself slipping as you turned around to face him with a mocking grin on your face. You were aware of your effect on him and were loving the attention you were receiving from all of the men present.

Miguel could feel himself at the limit, his stiff cock pressing against his pants, and if he could, he would’ve already taken you right there and there to show everyone that you were his, and no one else. His gaze slowly trailed down your body: your breasts bouncing under your dress from the movements you were making, and he swore when he noticed that you weren’t wearing any bra from your nipples poking against the material. His pupils dilated when he looked lower, fixing on the way you were moving your hips at the rhythm of the song, your ass enticingly swaying while your plump thighs jiggled.

He took a long breath and finished his drink before returning his eyes to you. He wasn't expecting to see a guy approach you. He tightened up but decided to stay back and see what you did; he trusted you completely, but he knew you liked to make him jealous on purpose. He watched as you giggled at something the guy said, biting your lower lip as you continued to dance, giving doe eyes to the other man.

Miguel could only see red, and he jumped up in an instant as he noticed the person taking one too many steps towards you and reaching up with his filthy hand to touch you. You turned aside, and your husband quickly approached you, towering over you and placing his arm around your waist while glaring at the man. "Back off," he commanded the man, his voice low and menacing, pulling you into him and watching the man's eyes widen in panic before walking away.

You tried to hide your grin at the scene, biting your bottom lip; you could feel Miguel’s hard chest against your back, and as you kept swaying your hips under his bruising grip, you could feel his bulge brushing your lower back. Your husband leaned down to your ear and hissed, “I should take you right here in front of everyone to show everyone you are mine”. You felt a wave of pleasure spread through your body and you arched your back, smirking when Miguel subtly ground his hips against you, his lips still pressed against your ear, “but you would enjoy that, wouldn’t you? To show everyone your slutty cunt and the way she takes me”.

When you didn't respond, Miguel spun you around and pulled you closer, one hand firmly grabbing your hips and the other clutching the nape of your neck to force you to look at him. When you peeked up into his eyes and saw the jealousy and lust flowing in them as he towered over you, a grin formed on your lips. He leaned down, your mouths a breath away while he kept his gaze fixed on yours, “me enfadas tanto cuando te comportas así… Pero eso ya lo sabes, no?” (you make me so angry when you behave like this… but you already know that, don’t you?). You nodded his words, holding his gaze as you took a sip from your drink.

In a second, Miguel snatched the glass from your fingers and took your hand, tugging you behind him, “we are going home”. He left the glass at the bar and walked quickly outside, almost making you run to catch up. You gripped his wrist, nibbling your bottom lip in anticipation of what would happen. The walk home took a few minutes, and when your husband opened the door, he nearly threw you in.

He caged you against the nearest wall, pressing his towering frame against you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. You moaned against him and arched your back, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer, parting your lips when you felt his tongue probe at your mouth. You felt your knees almost giving up under you when his tongue dominantly explored your warm mouth, pushing his lips harder against you. His hands were caressing all over your body, finally reaching your ass and squeezing, before pulling you taut against his hips.

“Mig,” you moaned when you felt his cock pressing against you. He pulled back, panting and looked down at you, his eyes almost black from lust. He pushed against your shoulder before growling, “on your knees”. Oh, he was mad. You nodded, not wanting to defy him, before slowly kneeling in front of him, your hands fumbling to open his pants. Miguel’s hand gripped your hair and observed as you pulled down his pants, gasping when his hard dick slapped against your cheek.

You squeezed your thighs together before taking his length in your hands, stroking it as you raised your gaze to look up at him with doe eyes. He tugged your hair, making your lips press against his tip, where precum was already oozing out, “Abre la boca, cariño,” (open your mouth, sweetheart) he instructed you. You slowly parted your lips, your eyes widening when he forced his cock inside your mouth, pushing you against him until your nose hit his navel and you gagged. He pulled you back and you whined softly as you looked up at him, spit connecting your mouth to his tip.

Your husband raised his brows to dare you say something but groaned when you leaned in and took his dick back inside your wet mouth again. “Ay, mami… así, no te pares,” (like this, don’t stop) he growled, holding your head as he rutted his big cock inside your mouth. You kept your gaze on him, your eyes tearing from the way his tip repeatedly hit your throat and kept your jaw wide open until it hurt. He pulled you away to let you breathe, before he quickly shoved you back down on him, groaning and setting up a fast pace. “You like to have your throat used, don’t you?”.

You whined around him at his words and he hissed, thrusting deeper inside you to make you gag. Your nails sinked in his hips, trying to hold yourself up from the raw pace he set, his balls hitting your chin as he threw his head back, growling at the way your tongue swirled around his cock, “Mierda, mami… I’m gonna cum”. You hummed around him, opening your eyes to look up at him and hollowing your cheeks.

However, Miguel pulled you away before cumming, his cock twitching at the loss of your warm mouth. You whined as you looked up at him, wiping away the tears and the spit rolling down your chin. You leaned closer, opening your mouth to take him again but he stepped back, clicking his tongue and putting his cock back inside his pants, “stand up”. You pouted as you slowly stood up, holding yourself against him, hoping that your legs didn’t give up under you. You gasped when Miguel picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“I can walk, Miguel!” you whined, squirming in his grip, “shut up, brat,” he said, slapping your ass. Your gaze was fixed to his muscular chest, and you reached down to slip a hand under his shirt, grinning when you felt him shiver under your touch. In a few strides Miguel reached the bedroom and opened the door with a kick. He settled you down and glared down at you as he gripped your chin, “Strip down, cariño”. You bit your lip at his words, pouting as you gave him doe eyes, your hands resting on his chest, “I’m sorry, papí… didn’t want to make you angry”. Your husband narrowed his eyes, seeing just right through your innocent façade, “do I have to remove that dress myself?”. Your breath hitched at his words, and you swallowed before shaking your head.

Miguel left your chin and sat down at the edge of the bed, keeping his hard stare on you as you reached down for the hem of the dress, slowly tugging it over your head until you were naked in front of him. When you looked back at your husband, you saw his gaze trailing down your body, hunger in his eyes, “no panties?”. You bit your lower lip at his reprimand, blushing and taking a step towards him until he rested his hands on your hips and pulled you to stand between his legs. His calloused hands felt hot against your body, making your cunt clench around nothing.

Your husband leaned closer, biting the soft flesh of your breast and slapping your ass, “you had this planned, didn’t you?,” he murmured, glancing up at you. You didn’t answer his question and, at your reaction, he slapped your ass again, making you flinch and arch your back, “no, Mig,” you murmur hurriedly. Miguel raised a brow, his hands caressing the back of your thighs as he observed your face, “tch, eres una mentirosa, mamí,” (you’re a liar) he hissed, slapping one last time your ass before gently pushing you away. You shivered at the loss of his warmth against you, and felt exposed as he air brushed against your naked skin.

“On all fours, ass up,” he ordered you while standing up, discarding his clothes. A few moments later, a groan left his lips when he turned around and saw your ass up in the air, red from his spanks, and waiting for him patiently, your cunt dripping with arousal. He walked to the bed, kneeling behind you and placing his hands on your buttocks, spreading them to look better at your wet folds, “such a pretty pussy, mamí”. You whined at his words, feeling your hole gaping as you arched your back, shaking your ass to silently ask him to do something. You could clearly tell from his reactions that he was enjoying the way you surrendered under him.

“Use your words,” he ordered you, and you whined, hiding your face in your pillow before mumbling a few begs for him. You gasped when he tugged your hair back, pressing his chest down against your back to speak to your ear, “No te oí, mamí” (i didn’t hear you). You bit your lower lip, closing your eyes when he left your hair, and after raising your head back from the sheets, you murmured, “p-please, papí, I’m sorry… I-I need you, please”.

Miguel smirked behind you, and slapped your ass before positioning his cock at your entrance and sliding inside. You moaned, gripping the sheets as he set a punishing pace, thrusting inside you as if he hated you. You could feel his hips hitting the back of your thighs harshly, making your body slip across the sheets. He gripped your hips, pushing you back against him and groaned when your walls fluttered around him, “eres tan apretada, puta madre” (you’re so tight, mothefucker).

You cried out, trying to stay upright as your husband drilled inside you, his cock bullying your walls and your sweet spot repeatedly. His hands moved to caress your back before gripping your rippling ass and tugging you back to meet his hard thrusts, making him reach a deeper spot inside you with his big cock. “Fuuuck, Mig, please… f-fuck, s’full,” you whined, closing your eyes and resting your head against the sheets, letting your husband fold you in half. If you could look back, you would see him looking down at you with hunger, his tanned skin covered with a layer of sweat and glistening under the dim lights of the room.

Miguel grinned and stroked his sweaty hair away from his forehead, before placing a foot on the bed and angling his cock deeper inside you. You screamed at the feeling and your walls tightened around him, feeling your mind going mush at the pleasure he was making you feel. “That’s it, mi amor, does it feel good?,” he groaned, pounding harder inside you and enjoying the way you were starting to drool from the way his cock felt inside you.

“Y-yes… please, p-papí, mor- ah!,” you mumbled, trying to form a coherent phrase before he reached down to rub your clit in tight circles. You squirmed under him, moaning his name loudly at the pleasure spreading through every inch of your limbs, “ssh, cariño, that’s it… cum for me”. And you didn’t need to be told twice as you came around him, squeezing his cock so hard until it almost hurt. He rutted inside you rapidly and deep at the pleasure spreading through his nerves, his cock twitching inside you violently, “Ay, coño! I’ll fill you up, mamí, take it all, fuuck!”.

Your husband stilled inside you with a growl, throwing his head back as he spilled his cum inside you, filling you up completely. He lazily fucked inside you as he rode the last waves of his orgasm, before he pulled back to look at his cum oozing out of your abused hole. You panted as you stayed with your hips up in the air, unable to move while your hole was gaping and Miguel’s seed came out of you in thick white globes.

He spread his cum around your cunt, grinning when you whined and tried to pull away, “you have such a pretty cunt… pity that you think more with her instead of with your head”. You pouted at his words, and let your hips collapse down, before glancing back at your husband, “mean,” you murmured. Miguel chuckled huskily and crawled over you, kissing from your shoulders until he reached your lips, “maybe next time you’ll think twice before making me angry”.

You hummed and kissed him back lazily, unable to move as you looked up at him with a pout. He cooed at you and caressed your back, kissing your forehead, “c’mon let’s get you cleaned up”.

(m.list)

[bridgetoesoteria]

💌💟Realistically...What would they write in a love letter to you?

Surpriseee bish! Here is my double post as puh-romised. Its spring break, I aced my midterm, I had a nice lil chit chat with my crush where I high key let on to having feelings . *ahem* Now I wanna smoke and pull cards with my internet besties <3

So, I don't like those mushy-gushy readings that tell you the most ideal outcome, not the most realistic outcome. I am hoping to channel an authentic "letter," from the person you are here for.

Options are left to right. I hope it resonates 🥰

Pile 1

4-card spread: Page of Swords, Girl w/ Violin, Strength, The Sun. BOTD: 3 of Swords

I just want to see you happy. I hope you know that. I miss the feeling of you holding me. I think about all the times, I got to hold your hands in mine. I think you are amazing and angelic. If I ever seem difficult, or like I am pushing you away, its just because I don't want to hurt you even worse. You're the whole package. You can shine with or without me.

If there is still bad blood, I will make it right. At least that's what I think about doing. All the time. Can I step up? Can I really have my happy ending; The car, the house, the family, building a life together. I need to get over my cold feet, because the only person I see is you.

P.S.

I love your eyes. I love how much hope I feel when I look into them. I love your hair, especially the length/thickness. I love how balanced you are, and how you can consider different points of view. It has taught me to be more compassionate. It has taught me to care about someone other than myself. You show me that I can get over my demons. We could be a power couple.

(If you have a "butt chin," your person loves this too lol)

Pile 2

4-card spread: 8 of Swords, 9 of Swords(R), 9 of Wands, The Star. BOTD: The Emperor

This person is definitely very attracted to you, but we are here for a love letter, mkay? Not a sext.

I don't know why you are acting like you don't want me anymore. You better not be giving away my ____ to anyone else. I want to be with you. I consider us to be a couple, no matter what happens. If you question where my head is at, my loyalty is with you. I don't want to see you with anyone else. I hate thinking about you being out there, living like you're single. I think about us having kids, animals, a family life. (If you already have kids they want to keep the family together).

I am working on my temptations. I know I need to be more responsible and I am willing to do that. I want to try having self-control. If that means cutting other people off, or waiting until you are comfortable being physical, I will do that. I respect your boundaries. You have every right to have them. I know you are just trying to love yourself. You should always stand your ground...even with me.

P.S.

You have a beautiful heart. You are so nurturing. You keep everything flowing. You completely fulfill me. You are more than enough. You definitely know what you are doing. I wouldn't have taken you for a "lady in the streets, freak in the sheets" type.

Right now, you probably are focusing on yourself. I hope you find the happiness that you are looking for. After pouring into everyone else so much, I hope you will start pouring into you now. I hope you will be receptive to all the good things you deserve.

Pile 3

4-card spread: Ace of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, Page of Cups, The Empress. BOTD: Justice

I can't figure you out. And its...amazing! It keeps everything so fresh. Maybe you don't feel like you are being mysterious but you are. I want to know what goes on "behind-the scene." I don't mean that in a pervy way. I mean, I want to know who you are, where you come from, what is currently going on in your life. I want to make the cut. Do you ever think about what your favorite diamond cut is? 💎

(Where ever your connection is, move up a step. This is not a literal proposal for everyone)

I want us to be on track. If I have to apologize, I will do that. I want to finally start something new. I want to make you feel like the king/queen that you are. I want us to be happy together. Especially if we are expecting 🤰

P.S.

Can I just brag on you really quick? I love your face shape. I love when we lock eyes. I love how you style your hair, even if I have never said so aloud. Even if I tease you about it sometimes. Its cute and so you. Everyone says we (would) go well together, and I have to agree. We could be our town's MGK and Megan Fox 🤣🤣

On a more serious point, you make me want to do better. Internally, I always feel challenged by you. I have my old beliefs, and then there's you. You make me want to throw out all the BS I believe about myself and start valuing myself more. I see how magical life can be, because I see how many miracles happen when we are together. I know I can do better.

Pile 4 4-card spread: 8 of Wands, 10 of Wands, The Emperor, 8 of Swords. BOTD: Ace of Swords.

(Your person could actually be the type to spill their feelings over texts or in the notes section of their phone)

I think about saying this all the time. I build up the courage to start typing, but I can never hit send. I just feel this lump in my throat. I'm a man! (or they are just someone who suppresses their emotions). I shouldn't have all these feelings. I feel overwhelmed by my attraction, my thoughts, my unexpressed feelings.

That's kind of what I grew up with. It was normal. People call it "traditional." I always thought (one of their parents, but I am really getting mom) could do better. Why are you still with them? I don't want that to be you. I don't want that to be our story. You always carry yourself well. I'm proud to be with you. I know you're a catch. I know you are the full package. I can't let you go. Please reconsider. I want to be with you.

P.S.

I hope you're getting rest. Don't lose sleep over me. Which is hypocritical, because I stay up thinking about you. Don't be scared...but I may have watched you sleep. I like how peaceful you look. I feel like I have privacy to fully process my emotions. I look at your face and I think about all the possibilities. It makes me nervous. If I have made a proposal of some kind, maybe to reconcile, I hope you sleep on it before you make a decision.

Pile 5 4-card spread: King of Cups, 4 of Swords, 9 of Wands, The Sun. BOTD: 8 of Swords

I think a lot of you are asking about a feminine energy, but flip the roles if needed. You could be the feminine energy being described, so maybe they want you to know you are "seen". It just started raining, so that makes me feel like this person is definitely more on the feminine side, or in touch with their emotions. You could both be young, or they're younger, or someone has a baby face.

I think about you all the time. Even when I am sad. I don't know if you know how much I struggle. My mental health isn't always in the best place. But you take my mind off of everything. I love when you look deep in thought. I come up with all these random ideas about what you could be thinking of. If you are away getting better, overcoming an ED, I hope you are being strong. I look forward to seeing you again.

You make me so happy. I miss being playful and messing with you. I could see us having babies. I think I would be a great mom/dad. But I know that's daydreaming and wishful thinking. I don't always understand your moods or what you want from me. Could you make it clear without it becoming an argument. I don't want to make you upset.

P.S.

You are soo pretty. I think your haircut really compliments your face. I love your side profile too. You are so smart. You know so much about the world around you or you are always willing to learn. I am impressed by your writing and/or creativity. I love everything about you. If I were an artist, I would make a portrait of you. You would be my muse. I just want you to know how special you are. You are 1 of 1 forreal. I am so grateful to have ever met you. You bring so much joy to my life.

Whew. GD! That was a lot lol. This took me two days. I am going to relax and enjoy the start of Spring Break. Whoop whoop 🙌

And don't laugh at me...but I just discovered archives so I might stop updating my masterlist, since you can find all my readings there too.

Lastly, I am also doing personals if you have not heard! Take a gander.

~ K