#of course I know that a perfumed candle will do bad things to me!

[kiragecko]

Disabled people are the experts on our bodies and should be trusted to decide what is best for us. But ALSO, I have spent approaching 40 years in aggressively scent-free environments, because my mama and I are not STUPID and wish to stay alive, and I regularly forget that various things HAVE perfumed options. Even when those items are perfumed 90% of the time.

"Of COURSE you can light a candle, I love fire!"

"Oh, can you throw my sweater in with the other clothes that got muddy? It's cold out and I'd like to wear it home."

"I'm gonna go over and play with those long sticks in the pretty holder. Your knickknacks are so PRETTY!"

So please, if you know your friends and they are as easily distracted from their own health as I am, ask them if they WANT you to step in before they murder themselves via easily avoided dangers. The amount of times I have had to choose between

having my brain shut down from fumes that I accidentally okayed, and

awkwardly telling someone that actually all their work needs to be undone because I forgot that people like pretty smells

is an unpleasantly high number.

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 3: May 2023

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

Welcome to 8k of my waffling. Warnings: we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussion of toxic relationships in the past, also discussion of very toxic thoughts about intimacy, and discussion of past dubious consent, Max being a simp for his girl, ...I think that's it? If I missed something, let me know.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Isabelle: Hey, just a heads-up—it’s Mother’s Day this weekend.

Max: …Okay?

Isabelle: I always remind my brothers, or they forget. Thought I’d do the same for you.

Max: Thanks, I guess? But I ordered flowers and her favorite sweets three weeks ago.

Isabelle: …You what?

Max: Yeah. And a handwritten card.

Isabelle: THREE WEEKS AGO?

Max: Yes?

Isabelle: Do you understand how unfair this is??

Max: What do you mean?

Isabelle: You’re making every other man in my life look terrible.

Max: Maybe they should simply try harder.

Isabelle: You don’t get it. I usually have to remind them, nag them, and buy the gifts myself so they don’t show up empty-handed.

Max: Again. Not my problem.

Isabelle: You’re actually infuriating.

Max: Because I remembered a holiday in advance?

Isabelle: Because you remembered without me having to tell you!

Max: This is a weird thing to be mad about.

Isabelle: I’m not mad, I’m just—adjusting.

Max: To what?

Isabelle: To a boyfriend who actually does things without needing to be reminded?

Max: Well, get used to it.

Isabelle: I might cry.

Max: Please don’t, you’ll make me feel bad.

Isabelle: You should! For setting the bar so high I can never accept bare minimum effort again!

Max: Good. You deserve better.

***

Leclerc Sibling Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles and Lorenzo) 

Isabelle: Reminder—it’s Mother’s Day. Call Maman.

Charles: …Right.

Arthur: Oh. Yeah.

Lorenzo: Was just about to text about that.

Arthur: Did we get her a gift?

Isabelle: Her favorite flowers and the perfume she’s been wanting.

Charles: …We did?

Isabelle: Yes.

Arthur: Perfume? Again?

Lorenzo: Arthur.

Arthur: I’m just saying, it’s kind of boring.

Charles: Yeah, maybe we should’ve gotten something else?

Lorenzo: Like what?

Arthur: I don’t know. A handbag? A candle? Something a bit more exciting?

***

Instagram Post – @/isabelleleclerc

Comments: 

@/charles_leclerc: Happy Mother’s Day to Maman! 💖

@/arthur_leclerc: Love you Maman! You’re the best 💐✨

@/lorenzo_leclerc: Happy Mother’s Day!

@/f1gossipqueen: Such a beautiful tribute, Isabelle! Happy Mother’s Day to Pascale 💐💖"

@/tifosi_in_monaco: Happy Mother’s Day! You’ve clearly been raised with so much love ❤️

@/trackside_tales: That’s the sweetest! Happy Mother’s Day to your beautiful mom ❤️

@/f1_ultimatefan: Your mom must be so proud of you! Wishing her the best Mother’s Day 💖

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Sophie Kumpen

Max: Hey Mom, just wanted to make sure the flowers arrived okay and that you liked them.

Sophie: Max, they are beautiful! 💐 Thank you so much for thinking of me. The flowers are stunning, and the sweets were a lovely touch, especially my favorites! The card... well, it made me tear up a bit. ❤️ You really didn’t have to.

Max: Of course I did. It’s Mother’s Day. 😊

Sophie: And I heard you bought something for Victoria too? She texted me already—said you got the exact bag she’d been eyeing for months? How did you even know that?

Max: She mentioned it once during Christmas when I was half asleep on the couch. Guess I wasn’t that asleep.

Max: She’s always there for me, so I thought I’d do something nice for her too.

Sophie: You’re becoming dangerously thoughtful. Should I be worried? 

Max: I’m evolving.

Sophie:  Speaking of evolving… How are things with your girlfriend?

Max:  She’s…

Max: Honestly? She’s kind, and steady, and smart in this quiet way that gets me every time.  She makes everything feel lighter. Even the hard parts.

Sophie: Max.

Max: What.

Sophie: That was almost romantic. Who are you and what have you done with my son?

Max: He’s still here. He’s just tired of being an emotionally constipated Dutchman.

Sophie: Well, I’m proud of you. I’m looking forward to meeting her one day. You deserve someone who makes you happy, Max. Just make sure you don’t wait too long to introduce her to me.

Max: Don’t worry, I’ll bring her home when the time’s right. But seriously, I’m just really happy with her.

Sophie: I can tell. Take care of her, Max. You’re both lucky to have each other.

Max: I will, Mom. Thanks. Love you.

Sophie: Love you too, Maxie.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: He just brought me coffee. Exactly how I like it. Without me even asking.

Emilie: …Okay?

Isabelle: He just knew.

Emilie: Isabelle, you’ve been together for over a month. Of course he knows how you take your coffee.

Isabelle: But I didn’t say anything. He just handed it to me and kissed my forehead like it was normal.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: And now he’s sitting across from me, just existing all content and relaxed, and it’s weird.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: Why is he so nice to me? Why does he just do things for me?

Emilie: BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU.

Isabelle: …but??

Emilie: No. No buts. You deserve this. This is what a relationship is supposed to feel like.

Isabelle: I know that logically. It’s just… I’ve never had this before.

Emilie: You mean, you’ve never been with someone who actually pays attention to you and treats you like you matter without you having to remind them?

Isabelle: …Yes.

Emilie: Yeah. I figured.

Isabelle: It just feels like I should be doing more.

Emilie: You don’t have to earn love, Isabelle. It’s not conditional. You don’t have to do something for him to treat you well.

Isabelle: But I want to do something for him too.

Emilie: That’s different. Wanting to give back because you love him, not because you feel like you owe him, is different.

Isabelle: …How do I stop feeling like I owe him?

Emilie: Time. And maybe letting yourself actually believe that you’re worth all of this without needing to repay it.

Isabelle: …I’m trying.

Emilie: I know. And so does he.

Isabelle: He just put my feet in his lap and started rubbing them like it’s nothing.

Emilie: And let me guess, your brain short-circuited again?

Isabelle: Yes.

Emilie: Good. Now shut up and let the man spoil you.

***

Max leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching as Isabelle sat on the floor of his apartment, completely lost in play with the cats. She didn’t even notice him.

Sassy was curled up in her lap, purring so loudly Max could hear it from across the room, while Jimmy was perched on the back of the couch, watching with sharp eyes as Isabelle dangled a feather toy just out of reach. She giggled when Jimmy finally pounced, batting at the toy with his paws, determined to “win.”

Max couldn’t help but smile.

There was something about watching her like this—soft, unguarded, completely comfortable—that made his chest ache in the best way. Isabelle, for all her quiet confidence and composed demeanor, had a way of melting around the cats. She whispered to them, scratched behind their ears just the way they liked, and let them nuzzle into her like they’d been hers all along.

Sassy stretched out in her lap, belly up, a clear sign of trust. Isabelle laughed, running her fingers through his fur. “You’re so spoiled,” she murmured.

“Wonder where they get that from,” Max teased.

Isabelle glanced up, startled, as if she’d forgotten he was even there. Her face warmed slightly, but she didn’t move, just kept stroking Sassy’s fur. “Not my fault they like me better,” she said, grinning.

Max huffed a laugh, pushing off the doorway and walking toward her. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to scratch behind Jimmy’s ears. “I think they just know you’re gonna spoil them rotten”

Isabelle playfully nudged him with her shoulder. “You say that like you’re not just as bad.”

Max didn’t argue—because she wasn’t wrong. He spoiled the cats, and now, without even realizing it, he was doing the same with her. Small things: the flowers he sent her, the extra blanket he made sure was always on his couch because he knew she liked to curl up with one, the way he always stocked her favorite tea.

Jimmy finally lost interest in the feather toy and instead padded over to Isabelle, rubbing his face against her arm. She smiled, scratching under his chin as he flopped dramatically onto her lap.

Max just sat there, watching.

His life had always been fast—races, flights, training, the never-ending cycle of the season. But this? Watching Isabelle on the floor of his apartment, surrounded by his cats, like she belonged there?

This was the kind of moment he wanted to hold on to.

***

Leclerc Sibling Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles and Lorenzo) 

Charles: Maman’s birthday is next week. What’s the plan?

Arthur: Same as last year?

Lorenzo: Dinner at her place?

Charles: Sounds good.

Arthur: What about a gift?

Lorenzo: Something nice.

Isabelle: I’ll figure it out.

Charles: Perfect.

***

Isabelle: Okay, everything is sorted. Dinner is handled, and I ordered her favorite cake. I also picked out a necklace for the gift.

Charles: Oh, great.

Arthur: Nice.

Charles: This was way easier than I expected.

Arthur: Yeah, that came together fast.

Lorenzo: Good teamwork.

***

Max hadn’t meant to look at her phone. It was just there, sitting on the coffee table, screen lighting up as another message from Lorenzo came in.

“Good teamwork,” it read.

Max frowned. Teamwork, his ass.

Isabelle, curled up at the other end of the couch, didn’t even react. She had a book in her lap, one of the cats purring against her side, completely unbothered.

“You planned the whole thing yourself,” Max said, still staring at her phone.

Isabelle sighed. “Max—”

“No, seriously,” he cut in, looking at her now. “You did all the work, and they don’t even realize it. They just said ‘Good teamwork’ like they did anything.”

She shrugged, turning a page. “That’s how it always is.”

Max narrowed his eyes. “And you’re just okay with that?”

“It’s easier if I do it.”

“That’s not the point.” He sat up, shifting so he was facing her properly. “They should see you, Isabelle. They should appreciate you.”

She didn’t answer. Her fingers absentmindedly scratched behind the cat’s ear.

Max exhaled sharply. “You know that’s not normal, right? They just expect you to handle everything, and you let them.”

She finally glanced up from her book. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Max argued. “You deserve better than being the invisible one in your own family.”

She blinked at him, lips pressing together.

Max softened, reaching over to take the book from her hands and set it aside. Then he tugged her closer until she was against his chest, arms wrapped securely around her.

“I’m going to steal you away,” he murmured into her hair, “and never give you back.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “That’s dramatic.”

She still curled into him, holding on just as tightly.

Max pressed a kiss to the top of her head, resting his chin there for a moment. “I mean it,” he said, voice quieter now. “You don’t have to do everything for them.”

Isabelle sighed, her fingers curling slightly against his shirt. “If I don’t, no one will.”

“That’s not your problem.”

“It is my problem.” She pulled back slightly to look at him. “Because if I don’t, things don’t get done. And then—then it’s just easier if I handle it.”

Max studied her, eyes searching hers. It wasn’t just about their mother’s birthday, and they both knew it.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked softly.

She hesitated. “Since I was a kid,” she admitted eventually. “Lorenzo was always busy, Arthur was younger, Charles had racing… Someone had to take care of things.”

Max exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. “And no one ever thought to take care of you?”

Her expression flickered, something like surprise flashing across her face. She didn’t answer, but that was answer enough.

Max swore under his breath and pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her again. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be, schat.”

She didn’t say anything, just buried her face in his shoulder.

***

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: So. That was�� something.

Emilie: Oh no. What happened?

Isabelle: Max found out how my brothers treat me.

Emilie: Ohhhhhh shit.

Isabelle: Yeah.

Emilie: What did he do??

Isabelle: He got angry. Like, not just annoyed. Not his usual “ugh, Ferrari” face. Like actually angry.

Emilie: …Is it bad that I love that for you?

Isabelle: He kept pacing around, ranting about how they take me for granted, how they never prioritize me.

Isabelle: He was like, “You deserve better than being the invisible one in your own family.”

Emilie: Honestly? Valid.

Isabelle: And then he just—sighed and pulled me into a hug. And said, “That’s not how it’s supposed to be, schat.”

Emilie: Isabelle, I am going to CRY.

Emilie: You realize he’s ready to go to war for you, right?

Isabelle: For the first time in my life, I feel like someone’s actually on my side.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Gianpiero Lambiase

Max: Do you ever just want to punch someone?

GP: I work with you. Weekly.

Max: I’m being serious.

GP: …Okay, who do I need to be concerned about?

Max: Isabelle’s brothers.

GP: Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo??

Max: Yes.

GP: What did they do?

Max: More like what they don’t do. They don’t appreciate anything she does for them, and barely acknowledge her unless they need something.

GP: That can’t be right. They seem close?

Max: No. They’re close with each other. Isabelle just gets ignored.

GP: …How bad are we talking?

Max: Bad. Their group chat is a constant barrage of stuff Isabelle does for them without so much as a thanks. Every year, she reminds them about their mother’s birthday, Mother’s Day, everything. Buys the gifts for them. They wouldn’t remember otherwise.

GP: That’s… actually insane.

Max: I know.

GP: Why does she still do all this for them?

Max: Because she loves them. And they don’t even see how much they take her for granted.

GP: …Okay, I get why you want to punch someone.

Max: Thank you.

GP: So what’s the plan? Because I assume you have one.

Max: I take care of her. Since they won’t.

GP: …Yeah, I think that’s a good plan.

Max: I know it is.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Max: Be honest. Was I ever a bad brother to you?

Victoria: …What? Where is this coming from?

Max: Just answer the question.

Victoria: No, Max. You were annoying, but you were never bad. Why?

Max: Because I just watched Isabelle’s brothers completely forget she existed. And I needed to know if I ever did that to you.

Victoria: …What did they do?

Max: Only notice her when they need something. She reminds them of every holiday, every important date, and then buys their gifts for them so they don’t look bad.

Victoria: You’re joking.

Max: I wish.

Victoria: That’s—what the hell?

Max: Yeah.

Victoria: Oh my god.

Max: So, again. Was I ever like that with you?

Victoria: No, Max. You and I fought, but you never made me feel like I wasn’t part of the family.

Max: Okay. Good.

Victoria: But seriously—how does she put up with that?

Max: Because she loves them. And she keeps hoping they’ll notice.

Victoria: …That’s heartbreaking.

Max: I know.

Victoria: What are you going to do?

Max: The same thing I’ve been doing since we got together. Make sure she never feels like that again.

Victoria: …You really love her, don’t you?

Max: Of course I do.

Victoria: No, I mean—not just in the way you say it. But in the way you see her when no one else does.

Max: She deserves to be seen.

Victoria: Yeah. She does.

Victoria: So, what’s the plan?

Max: Plan?

Victoria: You’re Max Verstappen. You don’t just sit back and let things happen. You’re already scheming. Spill.

Max: It’s not scheming. It’s just… making sure she gets everything they don’t give her.

Victoria: Which means?

Max: I remember her birthday. I get her gifts she actually likes. I make sure she knows she’s appreciated.

Victoria: That’s the bare minimum, Max.

Max: Yeah, well, they don’t even manage that.

Victoria: True.

Max: I just want her to know she’s not invisible. Not to me.

Victoria: She does. I promise you, she does.

Max: I hope so.

***

Isabelle Leclerc had never been so deeply, shamefully down bad.

She knew it the second she opened Instagram and was met with a carousel of Max’s sweaty, post-race pictures. His fireproofs clinging to his torso, curls damp against his forehead, jaw set in that sharp, focused way that made him look unfairly good. She scrolled further—pictures of him on the podium, champagne dripping down his neck, his Red Bull suit unzipped just enough to make her brain short-circuit.

She dropped her phone onto her chest, staring at the ceiling.

"I’m doomed," she muttered.

Sassy, Max’s cat, meowed from her place curled up on Isabelle’s stomach, completely unimpressed with her crisis. Jimmy was sprawled next to her, purring away, blissfully unaware that his owner’s girlfriend was currently struggling with an epiphany she hadn’t been ready for.

Because it wasn’t just that she found Max attractive. Of course she did—she had eyes. But this was the first time she’d ever felt like this. Like she actually wanted. Like she craved more than just stolen kisses and his hands warm on her waist.

And the worst part? Max wasn’t even here to do anything about it.

She groaned, throwing an arm over her face. "This is your fault," she told the cats. "If he hadn’t given me a key to come play with you, I wouldn’t be stuck here thinking about him."

Sassy let out another meow, clearly judging her.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Where do I buy the best lingerie?

Emilie: …Excuse me???

Emilie: Are you finally planning to jump your ridiculously in love, multi-millionaire, world champion boyfriend??

Isabelle: …

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: I tried, okay?!

Emilie: What do you mean you tried??

Isabelle: I mean I tried but he wanted to take things slow!

Emilie: …You’re telling me that Max Verstappen—the man who drives at 300 km/h for fun—wanted to take things slow?!

Isabelle: YES.

Emilie: Are you sure he’s Dutch and not secretly Victorian??

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: No, because I’m actually stunned. You’re telling me you’ve been together for two months, he’s madly in love with you, bought real estate just to see you more, and still hasn’t—

Isabelle: No.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: He said he didn’t want me to think this was just about that. That he wanted to show me he was serious.

Emilie: That’s actually disgustingly romantic.

Isabelle: I know. But also, Emilie, I am going to combust.

Emilie: Oh, I am absolutely taking you shopping.

Emilie: We’re getting you the best lingerie. The kind that makes a man forget the concept of “taking things slow.”

Isabelle: I don’t want to pressure him.

Emilie: Isabelle, babe, I love you, but you could show up in a paper bag and he’d still be obsessed with you. This is just insurance.

Isabelle: Insurance??

Emilie: Yes. For when you inevitably break him.

Isabelle: …

Isabelle: That’s not how insurance works.

Emilie: It is in this scenario. Now, when are you free? We’re going shopping.

Isabelle: You’re way too excited about this.

Emilie: Because I am emotionally invested!! Do you have any idea how rare it is for a man to be this in love and still have the self-control of a monk??

Isabelle: I don’t know whether to be flattered or frustrated.

Emilie: You can be both! But mostly, you can be prepared. Because trust me, the moment he decides he’s ready, you need to be ready.

Isabelle: … I did buy silk sheets.

Emilie: YES, that’s my girl!! Now tell me, what’s Max’s favorite color on you?

Isabelle: Emerald green.

Emilie: Oh, we are going all out.

***

Instagram Story – @/isabelleleclerc

***

Isabelle hadn’t been this nervous in a long time.

Not during presentations, not in meetings, not even the time she accidentally spilled coffee on a potential client’s Hermès bag (it had been black, mercifully, and Max had made her laugh about it later).

But this? Standing in Max Verstappen’s bedroom, bathed in the soft golden glow of his bedside lamp, wearing lingerie she had stared at for weeks before buying? This made her heart hammer so loud she swore he could hear it.

She had planned this—carefully. She knew he was expecting her. She’d texted earlier, promised takeout and a quiet night. That part wasn’t a lie. But the bag of food now sat forgotten on the kitchen counter, and she stood in front of him wearing forest green lace and every ounce of courage she’d been hoarding since their first kiss.

Max didn’t speak.

He didn’t move.

Just stared at her, wide-eyed, lips parted slightly, like he’d forgotten how to function. And for a single, terrifying moment, she thought she’d misjudged everything.

“Say something,” she whispered, her voice far steadier than she felt, her fingers fiddling with the strap of the lingerie. “I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”

But then—he moved.

In an instant, he crossed the room, hands warm as they settled on her waist, pulling her gently closer. His eyes met hers, and they were nothing short of reverent.

“Not a bad idea,” he said, low and rough. “A very, very good idea.”

Her breath left her in a shaky laugh, part relief, part giddy disbelief. Her hands found the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like she needed something to anchor her.

“You like it?” she asked, her voice small now, almost teasing.

Max swallowed visibly, eyes roaming over her again like he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Isabelle, I think my brain just stopped working.”

That earned a crooked smile from her, some of the nervousness melting into something bolder, flirtier. “That good, huh?”

Instead of answering, Max let his hands drift lower, tracing the curve of her hips, fingers skimming the sheer lace with maddening care. He looked like he was touching something precious. Something rare.

“You did this for me?” he asked, quieter this time. Like it surprised him.

She nodded, heart thudding. “Wanted to surprise you.”

He exhaled slowly, leaned in. Pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her temple. The edge of her mouth.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

The words made something flutter and twist deep in her chest. She arched into him without meaning to, breath catching as his grip on her waist tightened just slightly.

“Then show me,” she whispered.

And the look he gave her after that? Wicked. Worshipful. Dangerous in the best possible way.

Max Verstappen had never turned down a challenge in his life. And from the way he kissed her next, Isabelle knew he wasn’t about to start now.

His mouth met hers with quiet intensity—no rush, no urgency, just the kind of kiss that made Isabelle feel like she was being memorised, piece by piece.

Max kissed her like the world had narrowed to her skin and the space between them.

And God, the way he touched her.

His hands were still firm on her waist, thumbs brushing gently along the edge of lace like he didn’t dare go further without permission, like she was something sacred—not because she was wearing lingerie, but because she was Isabelle.

He kissed the corner of her mouth, then lower, over her jaw, down the curve of her neck.

Isabelle let her eyes fall shut, a soft breath escaping her as her hands slid from his shirt to his shoulders, pulling him just a little closer.

“Still thinking this was a bad idea?” he murmured against her skin.

She let out a breathy laugh, fingers threading into the back of his hair. “No. Definitely not.”

Max pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his expression shifting from teasing to something quieter—like he was checking in, even without asking.

And it struck her again—how different this was from every other time she’d tried to be brave for someone. This wasn’t performance. This wasn’t her trying to prove she was enough.

With Max, she was.

“You okay?” he asked, quietly, sincerely.

She nodded, and that time, it felt real. “Yeah.”

“Good.” His hands moved to cradle her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks, his eyes never leaving hers. “Because I want to take my time with you.”

That sentence alone nearly undid her.

She didn’t respond with words—just kissed him again, deeper this time, letting herself lean into it, letting herself feel it.

It was slow. Gentle. Everything she’d dreamed of, and somehow… so much more.

Max kissed her like he had all the time in the world, like the moment mattered more than the destination. His hands slid across her skin like a question, never demanding, only asking. Always waiting. Always listening.

And Isabelle—Isabelle gave herself over to it. To him.

For a while.

Because this was different. Because Max made her feel safe. Because she wanted this.

But even as her body responded—arching into his touch, breath catching when his mouth dragged down her collarbone—something inside her began to unravel.

She didn’t notice it at first. Not really.

It started as a quiet overwhelm. The weight of his hands on her waist. The way he whispered her name like it meant something. The softness in his eyes, the care in every kiss.

He touched her like she was precious. Like she was the most important thing in the world.

And it broke her.

Because no one ever had. Not like this. Not without expectation. Not without making her feel like she had to be performative, or perfect, or grateful.

She gasped—not from pleasure, not from panic, but from the sudden ache of being held so gently.

And then the tears came.

At first, she didn’t realise she was crying. Just a strange heat behind her eyes, a tightness in her throat. She blinked hard and tried to breathe through it, tried to hold onto the moment.

But Max noticed. Of course he noticed.

His hands, which had been skimming her skin, froze. His brow creased, worry flickering across his face. “Schatje,” he murmured, voice impossibly soft. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head quickly, pressing her lips together, embarrassed. “Nothing.”

His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, catching the tear that slipped free anyway. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

She swallowed hard. “I just…” A shaky breath. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

Max went impossibly still. His blue eyes searched hers, something flickering behind them—understanding, frustration, something else entirely. He exhaled slowly, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You deserve this,” he whispered. “All of it.”

Isabelle broke.

She curled into him, burying her face in his neck as his arms tightened around her, grounding her, holding her together.

No one had ever held her like this before. No one had ever made her feel like she wasn’t just something to take from.

But Max wasn’t like anyone else.

Max didn’t rush her. He didn’t push or pry. He just held her, one hand smoothing over her back, the other tangling gently in her hair as she clung to him.

Isabelle took slow, shaky breaths, letting herself settle, letting herself believe—that this wasn’t just desire, that Max didn’t just want her for a fleeting moment, that he was here because of her, all of her.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were still damp, but the knot in her chest had loosened. She met his gaze hesitantly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Max frowned immediately. “Why?”

She let out a breathy, almost self-conscious laugh. “Because that’s not exactly what you expect when you bring your girlfriend to bed.”

His expression softened. “Isabelle,” he said, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. “I don’t care how long this takes. I don’t care if we stop now or in ten minutes or in ten weeks.” His thumb brushed over her cheekbone. “I just want you.”

Something deep inside her cracked open.

Isabelle had spent so long being overlooked, taken for granted, expected to give without ever receiving. But Max didn’t expect anything from her. He just wanted her—whether she gave him pieces or the whole damn thing.

She swallowed hard. “I want this,” she said, and she meant it. She really meant it.

Max searched her face, his fingers tightening slightly on her skin. Then, slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers.

This kiss was different. It wasn’t urgent, wasn’t hurried. It was deep and consuming, felt like something more.

Isabelle melted into it, into him, into the warmth of his body and the way he touched her—carefully, reverently, like she was something to cherish.

And for the first time in her life, she let herself believe she was.

***

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Emilie: So.

Emilie: So.

Emilie: I let you run off with a bag full of very expensive and very effective lingerie, and I have received zero updates.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Emilie: I am not a patient woman.

Isabelle: I genuinely don’t know how to process last night.

Emilie: …Good or bad?

Isabelle: I think I need therapy.

Emilie: Therapy???

Isabelle: Emilie, I thought sex was supposed to be uncomfortable. I thought it was normal. To just… grit my teeth and wait for it to be over. To pretend it was fine. To pretend I liked it.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: I’m serious. I thought it was normal for it to be awkward and underwhelming, and that I just had to deal with it.

Emilie: …I suddenly have a burning need to hunt down every single one of your exes.

Isabelle: They didn’t care if I enjoyed it.

Emilie: …What do you mean?

Isabelle: I mean, it was always just about them. Their pleasure. Their satisfaction.

Isabelle: I was just a body.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: It wasn’t just bad—it was awful. Sometimes painful. Almost always embarrassing.

Emilie: Belle.

Isabelle: I thought that was normal.

Emilie: You’re joking.

Isabelle: I used to fake it just to get it over with.

Emilie: What the actual fuck?!

Isabelle: Em…

Emilie: No, because I was expecting you to say like, oh, it was awkward. Or boring. But this?!

Isabelle: I just thought that’s how it was.

Emilie: IT’S NOT.

Isabelle: I know that now.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: It was so different with Max.

Emilie: …Because he actually cares.

Isabelle: Yes. The first time I just…

Emilie: What happened?

Isabelle: I… broke down.

Emilie: Oh, Belle.

Isabelle: I just—panicked. Everything hit me at once.

Emilie: What did he do?

Isabelle: He stopped immediately. Held me. Told me we didn’t have to do anything, that he just wanted me to feel safe.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: And then the next time…

Emilie: He remembered everything.

Isabelle: Every single thing I liked. What made me feel good. What made me feel wanted.

Emilie: Because he pays attention.

Isabelle: Exactly.

Emilie: That’s that racecraft in bed, huh?

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: No, but think about it! The man lives to optimize performance. He knows how to read data, analyze conditions, adjust his approach for maximum efficiency—

Isabelle: STOP.

Emilie: No, because it’s true!

Isabelle: …I mean. You’re not wrong.

Emilie: I KNEW IT.

Isabelle: I hate you.

Emilie: No, you love me. But not as much as you love Max Verstappen blowing your mind every night.

Isabelle: I’M BLOCKING YOU.

Emilie: So tell me everything.

Isabelle: I already told you enough.

Emilie: Isabelle. You literally admitted that every guy before Max made sex feel like a chore, that you had to fake it, and that it was sometimes painful. And then, suddenly, Max comes in?  You owe me details.

Isabelle: It was just… different. From the second he touched me, it was like he was paying attention to every single reaction, every little noise I made. I didn’t even have to say anything—he just knew.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: And it wasn’t just physical. It was—I felt safe. I wasn’t just a body, I wasn’t just there to be used. He made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world to him.

Emilie: Belle.

Isabelle: I was so nervous at first. I wanted it to be good, I wanted to enjoy it, but I had all these bad experiences in my head, and I kept waiting for it to go wrong.

Emilie: But it didn’t?

Isabelle: No. Because Max—he’s so patient. Even when I got overwhelmed, he just slowed down and made sure I was okay.

Emilie: And then?

Isabelle: And then it was… mind-blowing.

Emilie: Define mind-blowing.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: I’m serious. Because I need to understand how we went from you faking it to you losing your mind completely.

Isabelle: …Okay.

Emilie: Yes.

Isabelle: So, you know how Max is in the car, right?

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: The way he reads conditions, the way he adapts in real time, the way he knows exactly when to push?

Emilie: STOP.

Isabelle: It’s the same.

Emilie: I KNEW IT.

Isabelle: I’m serious. He’s so in tune with everything, like he’s constantly adjusting, constantly making it better.

Emilie: He’s optimizing performance.

Isabelle: YES.

Emilie: Max Verstappen. Two-time World Champion. Fastest driver on track, fastest learner in bed.

Isabelle: I am not dignifying that with a response.

Emilie: But you’re not denying it.

Isabelle: …

Emilie: BELLE.

Isabelle: I didn’t even know it could feel like that.

Emilie: Wow.

Isabelle: Like, I thought those romance novels were lying. I thought all that passion and chemistry and overwhelming pleasure was just fake.

Emilie: But then you met Max Verstappen.

Isabelle: He’s just… so good to me. And not just in bed. He takes care of me, he makes me laugh, he listens to me. He actually sees me.

Emilie: I love that. But also, I need to understand the full scope of the dominance we’re dealing with here.

Isabelle: You sound like an F1 journalist trying to analyze Red Bull’s advantage in the regs.

Emilie: I am an F1 journalist trying to analyze Max Verstappen’s advantage in the bedroom.

Isabelle: …I hate that sentence.

Emilie: Okay, but is he like methodical with it? Like does he go in with a strategy?

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: No, I need to know if he’s a precision driver or a send-it-and-hope-for-the-best kind of guy.

Isabelle: …He’s both.

Emilie: EXCUSE ME???

Isabelle: It’s like he’s calculating everything in real-time, but then when the moment’s right—he just commits. No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Emilie: So what I’m hearing is… late-braking masterclass.

Isabelle: I knew you were going to say that.

Emilie: AND I’M RIGHT.

Isabelle: He literally waits until the last possible second, and then it’s like—boom. You can’t react fast enough.

Emilie: So he takes the racing line and the perfect approach angle.

Emilie: I’m just saying, if he starts looking at data after, I’m going to scream.

Isabelle:

Isabelle: …He does kind of ask for feedback.

Emilie: STOP.

Isabelle: And then he actually remembers everything I like.

Emilie: You’re telling me Max Verstappen actively takes notes on how to ruin your life?

Isabelle: Pretty much.

Emilie: If he ever applies this level of dedication to anything else, we’re all doomed.

Isabelle: He already does. It’s called Formula 1.

Emilie: And now he’s doing it to you.

Emilie: I need a moment.

Isabelle: Take your time.

Emilie: …Actually, no, I don’t, because I need to ask the most important question.

Isabelle: Oh, no.

Emilie: How many times?

Isabelle: EMILIE.

Emilie: I NEED TO KNOW.

Isabelle: …four.

Emilie: FOUR?!?

Isabelle: I told you. Life-altering.

Emilie: Max Verstappen is out here setting lap records and you’re only telling me now??

Isabelle: Well, I wasn’t going to text you midway through.

Emilie: I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU.

Isabelle: Thank you. So am I.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: Max Verstappen ruined you.

Isabelle: He rebuilt me.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/paddocktea: Isabelle Leclerc is my Roman Empire and here’s why: 

@/paddocktea: People know her as Charles Leclerc’s baby sister, born right in the middle between him and Arthur. 

@/paddocktea: But there is so much more to her…She’s the most overlooked yet most intriguing Leclerc sibling. She’s always there, always supporting, but somehow, she remains in the background. 

@/paddocktea: And because it’s her 24th birthday today… Here is everything you need to know about Isabelle Leclerc. 

@/paddocktea: While Arthur’s karting career was put on ice to fund Charles’ career, a lesser known fact is that the family also sold Isabelle’s childhood horse to help fund Charles’ racing. 

@/paddocktea: They SOLD HER HORSE. HER. HORSE. To help fund Charles’ career. Like, imagine being 13, losing both your sport and your horse while your brother gets to keep racing. If I were her, I’d still be holding a grudge.

@/paddocktea: …but instead apparently it’s a throwaway line in the family lore that Charles has only ever mentioned once in an interview, while he has mentioned Arthur’s “sacrifice” multiple times. 

@/paddocktea: Still, instead of causing drama, she put her head down and worked. She studied architecture while also being there for every major moment of her brothers’ careers. It wasn’t just about showing up to races—she was always supporting them.

@/paddocktea: The few times she does give interviews? It’s never about her. She just hypes up her brothers. Every single time. No complaints, no bitterness—just, "They work so hard, I’m really proud of them.” If I sacrificed as much as she did, I’d be insufferable, but she’s just so sweet and adores her brothers more than anything else. 

@/paddocktea: Anyway, Isabelle Leclerc is the backbone of the Leclerc family, and I need people to start appreciating her.

↳@/paddockinsider: WAIT. They SOLD her horse to fund Charles’ career?! I did NOT know this. That’s actually insane.

↳@/formulatea: They really said ‘sorry girl, no more childhood joy for you, we gotta get Charles to F1’ 😭

↳@hoofbeatsandcheckeredflags: As a horse girl, I would NEVER forgive them. I would be bringing this up at every family dinner.

↳ @f1drama: No bc imagine your parents sitting you down like ‘hey, your brother needs to go fast so we’re getting rid of your best friend, hope you understand xx’

↳@f1archivist: How did this never make it into Drive to Survive?? Like hello, Netflix, this is PEAK drama.

↳@girlmathf1: They stole her childhood and she still shows up at races supporting them. Isabelle Leclerc is a better person than me fr.

↳@gossipinthepaddock: So you’re telling me Charles got a career and Arthur got a second chance at racing, while Isabelle got… character development???

***

Instagram Post – @/isabelleleclerc

Comments: 

@/charles_leclerc: Happy 24th! 🎂

@/f1fashionista93: Happy birthday, Isabelle! You deserve all the happiness in the world. 💐✨

@/emilie_abadie: Happy birthday to my favorite human! You deserve the best year ahead—can’t wait to see what it has in store for you 💖"

@/leclercsquad_: Happy birthday, Isabelle! I can’t wait to see all the amazing things you do this year! 🎉💐

***

Her phone had buzzed all morning with Leclerc family group chat notifications—heart emojis from Arthur, a single “Joyeux anniversaire x” from Charles, Lorenzo asking if she’d gotten the spa voucher he emailed (“it expires in two months, so use it soon!”), and her mother’s text: “Hope you like the book. And the suit!”

The book was titled “How to Be More Assertive: Owning Your Voice in a Loud World.

The suit was black. Structured. Corporate.

Isabelle had never worn a pantsuit in her life. She barely wore pants, unless she was on a horse or doing pilates.

Arthur’s gift had arrived wrapped in glossy blue paper—inside was a heavy coffee table book about the history of golf. 

Charles had sent an Amazon gift card.

She had smiled. Said thank you in the chat. Told herself they were trying. That they were busy. That this was just how birthdays went for her in her family—slightly impersonal, vaguely thoughtful, and always… a little off.

And it wasn’t like she needed more. Emilie had taken her out the evening before, dinner just the two of them, which had been lovely… and which had ended with a single chocolate cupcake with a lit candle that she had blown out with a huge grin on her face. The two of them had giggled like teenagers and ended up sharing it. 

Emilie had given her a whole basket full of things, like she was always prone to be doing. It was stuffed full with Isabelle’s favourite things, from her favourite bar of chocolate, to her favourite soap, a new bottle of signature perfume (always Miss Dior), new workout clothing, because she had mentioned in an offhand way that the zipper on her favourite jacket kept opening up… filled with the kind of thoughtful little things that Emilie Abadie hoarded like the french dragon with expensive perfume and perfect eyeliner that she was. 

Really, that basket more than made up for anything her family did. 

And now, here she was sitting on the sofa a at Max’s place that evening, sipping her favourite wine in her favourite sweater, legs tucked under her.

She was happy. Completely and utterly content. 

Max came in from the kitchen, a little grin tugging at his lips, something behind his back.

“Okay,” he said, “I know you said you didn’t want anything fancy…”

She narrowed her eyes. “Max.”

“But,” he continued, stepping closer, “you’re turning twenty-four, and that feels like it should come with something a little special.”

He pulled a small velvet box from behind his back.

Isabelle blinked. “Max—”

“Just open it,” he said, sitting beside her. 

She opened the box slowly—and froze.

Inside was a bracelet.

Diamonds and Emeralds connected with delicate gold fixing. The emeralds were a deep, deep green. 

The exact shade of green that lit her eyes when she was excited, or furious, or pretending not to cry during animal rescue commercials.

She didn’t speak.

Max leaned in, his voice softer now. “Emeralds. Because it’s your birthstone. And because every time I see your eyes in the sun, I think—how does that color even exist?”

Her breath caught. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” he said. “You’re the easiest person in the world to pay attention to, Belle.”

She bit her lip, suddenly blinking too fast. “It’s beautiful.”

He unclasped it, slid it gently onto her wrist, then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You deserve beautiful things. Not because it’s your birthday. Just because you’re you.”

Isabelle didn’t mean to tear up. She really didn’t.

But here was Max—watching her with that look like she mattered—giving her something not just expensive, but personal. Thoughtful. Kind.

She laughed through the tears, wiping at her face. “Sorry. I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re not,” he said, pulling her into his chest. “You’re just not used to being seen properly. But I see you.”

“I love it,” she whispered. “It’s perfect.”

And she meant it.

Because it wasn’t about the bracelet.

It was the way he saw her.

The way he always did.

Not as the sister. Not as the quiet one.

Not as someone who needed a personality makeover or to be more “assertive.”

Just as Isabelle.

And for once—just once—that was more than enough.

***

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Max got me a bracelet.

Emilie: Of course he did.

Isabelle: Emilie. It’s emerald.

Isabelle: He said it’s my birthstone and that it matches my eyes.

Emilie: Isabelle, I need you to breathe.

Isabelle: I AM TRYING.

Emilie: This man is not just spoiling you; he is actively ruining you for anyone else.

Isabelle: Right???

Emilie: Send a picture. Now.

Isabelle: Attachment: photo.jpg

Emilie: Holy. Shit.

Emilie: That is not just a bracelet. That is a statement.

Isabelle: What statement?

Emilie: “You are mine, and I will give you the world.”

Isabelle: …

Emilie: You’re staring at it right now, aren’t you?

Isabelle: I haven’t taken my eyes off it since he clasped it onto my wrist.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: How are you still alive?

Isabelle: Unclear. Might be running purely on shock at this point.

Emilie: I warned you. I told you he was in deep.

Isabelle: I didn’t think this deep.

Emilie: Oh, honey. He is drowning.

Isabelle: What am I supposed to do with this??

Emilie: Love him back. That’s literally all he wants.

Isabelle: …I already do.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Max: I thought you were joking.

Emilie: Oh, Max. I wish I was.

Max: Arthur really got her a coffee table book about golf.

Emilie: She doesn’t even like golf.

Max: EXACTLY.

Emilie: I’m convinced he just panic-bought it at the airport.

Max: And Charles… a generic Amazon gift card.

Emilie: Isabelle literally used last year’s gift card to buy presents for other people because she didn’t even want anything from Amazon.

Max: I actually feel secondhand embarrassment.

Emilie: Welcome to my world.

Max: Lorenzo got her a Spa Voucher with only 2 months left on it. I am pretty sure that was a gift he once got. 

Emilie: That’s still better than the self help book her mother bought her “How to be more assertive”. (I mean I guess she tried, she did buy her that new pantsuit…just that Isabelle has never worn a pantsuit in her life. She never wears pants, AT ALL, unless she works out or is at the stables.) 

Max: I— No. I need to sit down.

Emilie: Oh, don’t worry, Max. She’s used to it. That’s what makes it worse.

Max: That’s actually depressing.

Emilie: Right?? I feel like I’m the only one who actually pays attention.

Max: I feel like I need to apologize on their behalf.

Emilie: Oh, you’ve already done enough. You got her a bracelet with emeralds to match her eyes.

Max: That’s just normal? It’s not hard?

Emilie: Max, you put more thought into one gift than her family has in a decade.

Max: Good. She deserves better.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Victoria: So… still in love?

Max: More every day.

Victoria: You’re such a sap.

Max: You asked.

Victoria: I did. Because I knew you’d say something like that.

Max: And yet, here you are, pretending to be surprised.

Victoria: Not surprised, just entertained.

Max: Glad my happiness is amusing to you.

Victoria: Oh, it is. You’re actually just gone.

Max: I know.

Victoria: And you’re fine with that?

Max: More than fine. Best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Victoria: …Wow.

Max: What?

Victoria: Nothing. Just… I’ve never seen you like this.

Max: Me neither. But I don’t want it to stop.

Victoria: Then don’t.

Max: I won’t.

Victoria: Good.

Max: …You’re being suspiciously nice.

Victoria: I can be supportive, you know.

Max: Yeah, but usually there’s teasing first.

Victoria: True. But I don’t think I need to say anything. You’re already completely and utterly done for.

Max: Not wrong.

Victoria: So, when do I get to hear about the inevitable dumb thing you’ll do to impress her?

Max: What makes you think I’ll do something dumb?

Victoria: Max. You bought an entire penthouse just to work with her.

Max: …That’s not dumb. That’s practical.

Victoria: Sure, sure. Practical.

Max: It is! I needed a new place anyway. And I have great taste.

Victoria: She has great taste. You just followed her lead.

Max: …Still counts.

Victoria: Sooo, can I follow your mysterious girlfriend on Instagram yet, or is she still top secret?

Max: …

Victoria: Max. It’s been two months.

Max: And?

Victoria: And I want to know who she is! Give me something. A name? A clue? Anything?

Max: Isabelle.

Victoria: Isabelle what?

Max: …Leclerc.

Victoria:

Victoria:

Victoria: HOLD ON.

Victoria: As in Leclerc-Leclerc?? Like, Charles Leclerc???

Max: Yes.

Victoria: AS IN HIS QUIET LITTLE SISTER FROM KARTING???

Max: Yeah.

Victoria: OH MY GOD.

Victoria: I remember her! She was always at the races! Super quiet, always watching. 

Max: That’s her.

Victoria: AWWWW. MAX.

Max: What?

Victoria: She’s perfect for you! She was always so sweet!

Max: …Thanks?

Victoria: Does Charles know??

Max: No.

Victoria: Max.

Max: Isabelle wants to keep it private.

Victoria: But why??

Max: Her family… it’s complicated.

Victoria: What do you mean? The Leclercs are like, the most wholesome F1 family ever.

Max: Her brothers are close with each other. She just…exists in their periphery and is forgotten 90% of the time. 

Victoria: Max, that’s awful.

Max: I know.

Victoria: And they still don’t know you’re together?

Max: Nope.

Victoria: You haven’t told Charles??

Max: Isabelle doesn’t want them to know.

Victoria: I mean, I get it, but… that’s really sad.

Max: Yeah.

Victoria: But you make her happy?

Max: I try.

Victoria: Good.

Victoria: But just so you know, when this does come out, Charles might actually explode.

Max: I know.

[the-winter-spider]

Yours, Always | Part Fifteen

Steve x reader, Bucky x reader AU

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: always angsty

A/N: Nothing too crazy in this one but i really like it adding more dynamics and backstories with others

Masterpost

----

Steve sat on the edge of your old bed, the mattress sinking beneath his weight, creaking slightly from years of memories pressed into it. The room smelled like the past like old paperbacks, faded perfume, and something inherently you.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, his fingers catching on the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. The fight was still ringing in his ears, words sharp and heavy, the kind you couldn’t take back.

I loved him! I love him!

His eyes lifted, scanning the walls for something, anything to anchor himself, to make sense of the way everything was unraveling.

The posters made him chuckle under his breath, bands you used to obsess over, ones he remembered you mentioning once or twice in passing. Some boy bands, some rock, some artists he didn’t recognize but figured Bucky had probably introduced you to. His chest tightened. Of course, he would have.

His gaze drifted to the vanity. At first, it looked like any other teenage girl’s vanity, old lip gloss tubes, a few forgotten earrings, a broken hair clip. But then he saw the photos.

Strips of them, tucked into the corners of the mirror, taped along the sides.

It was all Bucky.

Every single one.

You, laughing, your head thrown back while Bucky grinned beside you. You, blowing out birthday candles with Bucky’s arm draped around your shoulders. You, sitting in the bed of his truck, your legs crossed over his, leaning into him like it was second nature.

Post-it notes were stuck haphazardly between them, all in Bucky’s scrawling handwriting. “Y/N, what do you call fake spaghetti? An impasta.” Another one: “Please tell your mom to stop feeding me, I can’t button my jeans.”

One had a simple “Don’t forget: You’re my best girl” written across it.

Steve exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers into his temples. This was your life, this had always been your life, it was always meant to be your life.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his phone still in his grip. His thumb hovered over Wanda’s contact before he finally pressed call.

She picked up on the second ring. “Steve?” Her voice was thick with sleep. “It’s one in the morning. What’s wrong?”

Steve swallowed hard, staring at his feet. “I did something bad, Wanda.”

A pause. Then, more awake now, “What happened?”

“I read one of his letters.”

Silence.

He shut his eyes, leaning back against the headboard. “I shouldn’t have. It was right there, and I just… I was already losing her, I felt it, and I—” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I just needed to know.”

Wanda sighed. “Steve…”

“She loves him.” He laughed, but it was hollow, painful. “She really loves him.”

“She loves you too,” Wanda reminded him gently.

“Not like that.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Not like him.”

Wanda didn’t argue, she didn’t have to. She never met him, she didn’t know you that well but she didn’t need to, to know, to understand, to get it.

Steve let his head fall back against the wall. “We got into it. I said things I shouldn’t have, a lot of things I shouldn't have. God, I shut her down so fast..” He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I asked her if she was cheating on me.”

“Oh, Steve.”

“I know.” His voice was raw. “I know.”

Wanda was quiet for a long time before she spoke again. “Are you going to let her go?”

Steve’s throat tightened. “I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do.” She spoke softly

He stared at the ceiling, his chest aching.

After a long silence, Wanda spoke again, softer this time. “It was always gonna be him, wasn’t it?”

Steve let out a breath. “Yeah.”

Wanda hummed. “Then you already know what you need to do.”

Steve closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the ache forming behind his eyes, letting silence take over.

On the other end of the line, Wanda sighed softly, like she already knew what he wasn’t saying. “The universe has a funny way of working things out, Steve,” she murmured.

Steve let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Yeah? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it doesn’t feel all that funny.”

“No,” Wanda agreed. “It never does, not when you’re in the middle of it. Endings always feel like the worst thing in the world. But you know what endings really mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“They mean new beginnings.”

Steve ran a hand over his face, his fingers lingering at his jaw. “Wanda—”

“Just listen,” she cut in gently, but firmly. “Right now, all you can see is what you’re losing, and that’s natural. But you have to remember, Steve, you had a beginning with her. You had her and that’s more than most people can say.”

Steve swallowed, his throat tight. “But I don’t have her anymore.”

Wanda exhaled. “Not in the way you want. But you and her, you and Lily…you’re all intertwined now, Steve. That’s not something that just disappears. You and her, in some way, shape, or form, you’ll always be in each other’s lives.”

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose again.

“And before you say it,” Wanda continued, knowing him too well, “I know it’s not the same. I know it’s not what you wanted, or what you imagined. But Steve, you can’t fight fate.”

Steve shook his head, staring at the wall. “So, you think this was always supposed to happen?”

“I think…” Wanda paused. “I think that love is complicated. It’s never just one thing, one person. It’s messy, and it hurts, and sometimes, it’s not forever. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

Steve didn’t say anything.

“You and Natasha had your story. You and Y/N had yours. And now…now, it’s just a different chapter. That’s all this is, a chapter that was really delayed.”

Steve exhaled sharply, gripping the phone tighter. “And what if I don’t want it to end?”

Wanda’s voice softened. “It already has, Stevie.”

His jaw clenched, his chest aching, It was over.

Maybe it had been for a while, and he just hadn’t been ready to see it. Maybe he had been holding on too tightly to something that had been slipping through his fingers for months, or maybe you just were never truly his to hold.

But Wanda was right. It didn’t mean it hadn’t been real.

He had loved you, he still loves you and you had loved him.

Steve leaned his head back against the wall, his fingers gripping his phone a little too tightly. He could hear Wanda breathing on the other end of the line, waiting for him to say something.

Finally, he exhaled. “I’m leaving in the morning.”

Wanda blinked. “What?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “I think I just… I need to be home. I need to clear my head.”

Wanda was quiet for a moment before she said, “You still have a couple more days, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Steve admitted. “But she told me to leave.” His voice was quiet, resigned.

Wanda sighed, not unkindly. “I don’t blame her.”

He let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Yeah, me neither.”

Silence stretched between them.

“She deserves this,” Steve finally said, voice barely above a whisper. “She deserves to be here, with her home, her family. I just—” He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t think I was ever meant to be a part of it.”

“Oh, Stevie…”

“I’ll be fine,” he said quickly, forcing some steadiness into his voice. “I just, I need to go. I need to be home.”

Wanda didn’t argue. She didn’t tell him to stay, and didn't try to convince him otherwise. Because she knew.

She knew this was him letting go and some things, no matter how painful, were inevitable.

----

Wanda traced the rim of her glass, watching the amber liquid swirl as she stole a glance across the bar. Steve was there, arm wrapped securely around your waist, leaning in as you spoke to someone she didn’t recognize. He wasn’t just standing next to you, he was with you, the way people who belonged to each other were. His fingers absentmindedly brushed over your hip, like he needed the contact, like even in the middle of a crowded room, you were the only thing grounding him.

She looked away quickly, turning back to her drink, but Clint caught it.

“You good?” he asked, voice just low enough for only her to hear.

“He’ll never notice, huh?” Wanda sighed, forcing a small smile. “I think you already know the answer.”

Clint exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You gotta just tell him how you feel. Stick it to the man. Be bold.”

Wanda scoffed, giving him a sideways glance. “And say what, Clint? ‘Hey, Steve, I know you’re with her, and I know she’s wonderful, but what if you just… weren’t? What if I’ve been waiting since we were kids, since before everyone else.’” She shook her head. “I can’t do that to him or to her.”

Clint took a sip of his beer, watching her for a long moment. “Your loss.”

“Yes,” Wanda murmured, looking back at Steve. He was tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, intimate in a way that only came with time. Like muscle memory, like home. “And no.”

Clint frowned, leaning his elbow on the bar. “So that’s it?”

Wanda smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll always be best friends,” she said simply. “I think I’ll be okay with that. Whatever happens, happens. If it's meant to be, the universe will have it planned out, and if it's not well that's okay too.”

Clint let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You and your philosophical universe crap.”

Wanda smirked, but her fingers tightened around her glass.

They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the bar around them, the weight of unspoken things pressing between them. Then Clint sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t think it was written in the stars for Nat,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, more careful.

Wanda swallowed, staring down at the liquid in her glass. “I don’t either.” She hesitated, then added softly, “But he was.”

Clint looked at her then, really looked at her.

She turned away before he could say anything, taking another slow sip of her drink. Because they both knew that was the hardest part of all.

---

The door upstairs clicked shut, and you exhaled shakily, barely holding it together. Your chest felt too tight, your throat raw from holding in sobs that wanted to rip their way out of you. You ran trembling hands through your hair, blinking rapidly as more tears fell.

You needed your phone.

You had left it downstairs when you walked in, too distracted, too exhausted to remember to grab it and now, as you sat curled up in the guest room, desperate for something, anything to anchor you, the thought of going downstairs and facing Steve felt unbearable.

So you moved carefully, tiptoeing toward the door, pressing it open slowly so it wouldn’t creak. You listened, waiting, hoping that Steve was still in your childhood bedroom, maybe sleeping. You knew he had to have called someone, Wanda, Clint, his Mom to talk this through, because he always did.

Sure enough, his low voice carried through the house, muffled behind your closed door. That was fine.

You could do this.

You padded quietly down the hall, down the stairs, feeling like a ghost in your own home. When you reached the bottom, you scanned the room, your heart sinking when you realized Sam was no longer asleep on the couch.

For a moment, panic prickled at your skin. Where would he go? No way he would walk all the way back to Buckys this late.

Then, the soft hum of the refrigerator and the sound of water pouring into a glass reached your ears. You turned toward the kitchen, your steps careful as you peered inside.

Sam stood by the counter, chugging a glass of water. His hair was mussed from sleep, his eyes still a little heavy with exhaustion, but there was something knowing in his gaze when he turned and spotted you.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” he said, voice raspy with sleep and alcohol. “Or this morning I guess.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah, I, uh…I left my phone down here.”

Sam hummed in understanding, then reached for the bottle of Tylenol sitting on the counter. “You got more of this?”

You nodded, opening a nearby cabinet and grabbing the small bottle. You shook two pills into your palm and handed them over, watching as he tossed them back and chased them with another sip of water.

“Thanks.”

You just nodded, rubbing your arm absently.

Sam studied you for a long moment, eyes flicking over your face. You knew he saw the redness around your eyes, the way your lip wobbled just slightly when you exhaled.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, softer.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Sam tilted his head, unconvinced.

A few tears slipped past your lashes before you could stop them, falling soundlessly down your cheeks.

Sam sighed. “Can I give you a hug?”

You nodded weakly, and without hesitation, he wrapped you up in his arms.

It was warm. You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing deeply against his shoulder, willing yourself to stop shaking, to stop falling apart.

After a long moment, he pulled back, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked. “Because you know he’d be here in a heartbeat if he knew you were upset.”

You let out a breathy, wet laugh, shaking your head. “No. Bucky’s impulsive.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Ain’t that the truth.”

You swiped at your cheeks, exhaling shakily.

Sam leaned back against the counter, watching you carefully. Then, with a smirk, he said, “How many guys has Bucky punched for you in the past?”

That made you laugh, really laugh. You sniffled, shaking your head as you leaned against the counter beside him.

“More than I can count.”

Sam grinned. “Yeah, that tracks.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment. The house was quiet aside from the hum of the fridge and the faint murmuring of Steve’s voice upstairs.

Then Sam glanced at you again, more serious this time. “You wanna talk about it?”

At first, you shook your head. You weren’t sure you could talk about it.

But then, as if something inside of you snapped, the words just spilled out. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t give it a chance,” you murmured, voice breaking slightly. “He shot me down so fast.”

Sam nodded, letting you get it out.

“I just…I put myself out there,” you continued, rubbing your hands over your arms. “I never do that. I never let myself hope, never let myself want, not since Buck….but I did, and he—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “He made it seem so impossible. Like I was asking for something crazy.”

Sam was quiet for a beat, then said, “Look, I don’t know Steve that well. Just met him and I just met you a little bit ago, too. But I do know Bucky.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowing.

“And I feel like I know you,” he added. “So, as a third party here, I’m just gonna level with you…it would be tough to see your girl, your wife, your whatever, realizing she’s in love with someone else. Someone who’s been in love with her for God knows how long.”

You opened your mouth, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Steve’s grieving, too, he always will be” Sam continued, voice measured. “Grief is a funny thing. It makes you selfish. It makes you blind. It makes you hold onto things you know aren’t meant for you anymore. Because letting go…” He sighed, shaking his head. “Letting go feels like dying.”

Your throat tightened.

“It would be hard,” Sam murmured, voice quieter now, “to watch someone who was supposed to be gone…someone you helped grieve…come back when you don’t get to have that.”

You knew what he was saying. Steve had lost Natasha and he didn’t get a miracle. Bucky had been your miracle.

Sam didn’t have to say it out loud for you to know that’s what he meant.

You swallowed hard, your eyes stinging. “I don’t know,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Bucky and I… we’re just friends.”

Sam gave you a look.

You exhaled sharply. “We are.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced.

You crossed your arms. “Steve’s right, anyway. It’s been eight years since Bucky wrote that letter. Eight years. He probably doesn’t feel that way anymore.” You inhaled shakily. “And that’s fine. Because he’ll always be my best friend.”

Sam just hummed, watching you.

You weren’t sure why his gaze made you feel so seen.

After a moment, he clapped his hands together, pushing off the counter. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed before you start lying to yourself more.”

You rolled your eyes, sniffling. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime,” he grinned. Then he pointed at you, expression more serious. “But for real? You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”

You nodded, exhaling. “I know.”

----

The barracks were buzzing with laughter, the kind that only came after a long day of training and too many cheap beers passed around. The heat was relentless, making the air thick and heavy, but no one seemed to care not when they were all packed together in the rec room, passing the time before their next deployment.

Bucky sat on the edge of a rickety cot, rolling a cigarette between his fingers but not lighting it. His mind was elsewhere, always elsewhere these days. Letters half-written in his head, memories he refused to let fade.

Across the room, Daniels was holding court, telling some story about the new girl in the unit, Corporal Riley. She was sharp, tough, and undeniably gorgeous, every guy here had made a pass at her at least once.

“Come on, Barnes,” Daniels called, smirking. “You’re sittin’ over there all quiet. What’d you say when she asked you to grab a drink?”

A few guys turned to Bucky, grinning, waiting for an answer.

Bucky barely looked up. “Told her no.”

A beat of silence. Then a low whistle.

“No?” Another guy laughed. “You serious?”

“She’s a ten, man.”

“Fuck, she’s the only thing keeping me from losing my mind out here.”

Someone else snickered. “Barnes must be gay.”

Bucky ignored that, turning the cigarette over between his fingers.

Daniels grinned, like he’d caught on to something. “Nah, it ain’t that.” His voice took on that mocking edge, the one that set Bucky’s teeth on edge. “He’s too busy writing some bitch.”

Sam, sitting across the room, suddenly looked up.

“Shut up, Daniels,” Bucky muttered.

Daniels just grinned wider. “I mean, come on, man. We all know. Every night, sittin’ there with your little notebook, scribbling away like some lovesick schoolgirl. What, she got you wrapped around her little finger?”

Bucky’s fingers curled into a fist around the cigarette.

Then someone else, Miller, one of the newer guys, young and cocky snorted and muttered, “Man, she’s probably fucking someone else while you’re out here playin’ soldier.”

The room went silent, Bucky’s head snapped up.

Miller barely noticed, still grinning. “I mean, shit, you could die tomorrow, and you’re sitting here writing love notes instead of getting your dick wet? Fuckin’ pathetic.”

The cigarette dropped from Bucky’s fingers. Before anyone could react, he was moving. His hand was in Miller’s shirt collar, yanking him up, slamming him against the nearest wall with enough force to rattle the bunk beds.

A collective ooooooh echoed through the barracks, chairs scraping back as everyone suddenly really wanted to watch the show.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky snarled, his voice low, deadly.

Miller, to his credit or stupidity just smirked. “Oh, shit. Did I hit a nerve?” His breath came out in short pants, but he still fucking smirked. “Your little girlfriend screwin’ someone else back home, huh? You know she is.”

That was it, Bucky swung.

The first punch cracked against Miller’s cheek, knocking his head to the side. The second sent him sprawling onto the floor, blood already dripping from his mouth.

A few guys shouted, scrambling out of the way. Someone yelled, “Oh, shit, Barnes is gonna kill him!”

Bucky didn’t stop. He was on Miller in an instant, dragging him up by the front of his shirt before driving another punch into his stomach.

“Say that again,” Bucky growled, slamming him back down. “Go ahead. Fucking say it again.”

Miller groaned, coughing, trying to twist away, but Bucky didn’t let up, until strong hands ripped him back.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Sam barked, yanking Bucky away while someone else pulled Miller to his feet.

Bucky was still fuming, chest heaving, fists clenched.

Miller wiped blood from his mouth, laughing breathlessly. “Jesus Christ, man. That good of a lay?”

Bucky lunged again, but Sam shoved him back, hard. “I said enough!”

The room was still electric with tension, but no one said anything. No one moved and then Bucky, voice low, ragged, deadly, muttered, “Say whatever the fuck you want about me, but don’t you ever talk about her again or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Miller swallowed, his smirk faltering just slightly.

Sam exhaled heavily, gripping Bucky’s shoulder before steering him toward the exit. “Come on.”

The air was thick and humid, the stars bright against the inky black sky. Bucky was pacing, hands still clenched, breaths coming too fast.

Sam crossed his arms, watching him. “You done?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

Sam sighed. “Look, man, I get it—”

“No, you don’t,” Bucky snapped, turning to face him. “You don’t get it, Sam. You don’t fucking get what it’s like to be this far away from someone and not know—” His voice caught, just slightly. “Not know if they’re okay. If they’re safe. If they still care because she's sure as shit not giving me any signs!”

Sam’s expression softened.

Bucky let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t sign up for this for me. I did it because I wanted…I needed to be more. I needed to be worth something before I went back to her.” He shook his head. “And now I don’t even know if I’ll get that chance because I’ve already messed that up.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment, he sighed, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Few more months, man,” he said. “Few more months, and you go get your girl.”

Bucky swallowed, nodding.

Sam smirked. “And when you do, you tell her how you feel. No more of this best friend bullshit. Alright?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Alright.”

Sam grinned, stepping back. “Good. Now, let’s go ice your knuckles before the Cap chews your ass out.”

----

You knew it was coming.

Steve had been quiet all morning, his movements measured, like he was already halfway gone. He didn’t say it outright, but you could feel it in the way he touched you, soft, fleeting, like he was already learning how to let go.

Your mom stood at the kitchen counter, drying off a dish, her brows knitting together when Steve finally spoke.

“We’re gonna head out today.”

You blinked, setting your coffee down a little too hard. “What?”

Steve offered you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Figured we’d head back early. Spend a couple of days with my mom before going home.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to do that,” your mom said, frowning. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“I know,” Steve nodded, glancing at you for just a second before looking away. “But I think it’ll be good for us. And it’s on the way.”

Your mom sighed, folding the towel in her hands. “Well, I think that’s so sweet. She’ll love the visit.”

You didn’t say anything.

You just stood there, arms crossed over your chest, feeling something heavy settle in your bones.

You didn’t get the chance to respond before Sam and Bucky came through the back door, both of them stretching from the cool morning air, their voices filling the tense silence.

“Alright, which one of you is making breakfast? I’m starving,” Sam teased, rubbing his hands together.

Bucky glanced between you and Steve before clearing his throat. “What’s going on?”

“Steve’s leaving early,” you mumbled, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.

Sam’s smile faded slightly. “Oh. That’s… sudden.”

Steve shrugged, forcing a small laugh. “Gotta keep things interesting.”

Sam studied him for a second before nodding. “Well, you got my number, man. We gotta connect in the city.”

Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, of course.” They pulled each other into one of those brotherly half-hugs, and when they pulled away, Sam’s eyes flickered to Bucky.

Bucky hesitated before finally sticking out his hand. “It was nice meeting you. You’re a good guy.”

Steve took it, giving it a firm shake. “Thank you, Bucky. It was nice finally meeting you too. I’m glad you’re home. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Bucky nodded, his throat bobbing slightly. “Yeah.”

Then it was time to say goodbye to Lily. She was already waiting by the door, her little arms outstretched, and you scooped her up, spinning her around until she giggled.

“I’ll be home in two days, okay?” you whispered against her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She nodded, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck. “Love you, Mama.”

Your heart squeezed. “I love you more.” You finally set her down, ruffling her hair before turning back to Steve.

The air between you and Steve was thick, too thick. Heavy with unspoken words, with everything that had been said the night before and everything that hadn’t. The kind of weight that settled deep into your chest, pressing down until it hurt.

Steve sighed, his hands resting on the roof of the car, his fingers tapping absentmindedly against the metal. He was staring at you, watching you in that way he always had, like he was memorizing the moment, filing it away for later.

You shifted on your feet, fingers toying with the hem of your sleeve. You could feel Bucky and Sam watching from the window, their eyes burning into the back of your head. Spectators to the slow unraveling of your life.

Inside, Sam leaned against the counter, arms crossed, gaze flicking between you and Bucky. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Trouble in paradise.”

Bucky didn’t move. Didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watched. His jaw was set, fingers drumming against his bicep.

“She never said anything,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Sam hummed, already knowing. “Wonder what the fight was about.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, tightening his arms over his chest. “Probably me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Probably.”

Bucky didn’t react, didn’t rise to it. Just kept his eyes on you, standing there with Steve, that same tug in his chest he had felt every damn day since he came back. Like watching something slip through his fingers and not knowing if he was supposed to catch it or let it go.

Outside, Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flickered over your face, searching. “I love you.”

Your throat closed, your chest tightening.

He swallowed. “I’ll always love you,” he said softly, carefully. “I don’t fully understand everything, but I get it. We can talk more when you get home.”

When you get home.

You nodded, forcing yourself to breathe. Your voice barely made it past your lips. “I’ll always love you too, Steve.”

It was the truth.

It was also a lie.

Steve studied you for a second longer, like he was waiting for something, for you to stop him, to take it back, to give him one last reason to stay.

You didn’t.

His shoulders sank ever so slightly. Then, with one last lingering look, he climbed into the car and just like that, he was gone.

You stood there for a second, staring at the dust trail left behind, feeling the absence in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever felt before.

With a deep inhale, you turned on your heels, marching toward the house.

Bucky and Sam were still watching, waiting, expecting something, tears, regret, something.

You stepped through the door, looked straight at them, and forced a smirk. “So. Breakfast?”

Sam blinked.

Bucky huffed a laugh, shaking his head, “Breakfast.”

[damiansgoodgirll]

i really had a bad day at work last night, could you please write jude comforting reader after she came back from work?❤️

i’m so sorry to hear that love, i hope you’re feeling better 🫶🏻

jude bellingham x reader

in your arms

the moment you opened the front door of your home and you got greeted by the sweet perfume of your favourite perfumed candle burning, you felt a sense of ease and relax washing over you.

it’s been a hard day, if not, a hard week and you couldn’t wait to spend the weekend in bed, surrounded by the comfort of your boyfriend.

jude was currently making dinner when he heard you falling over the couch.

he knew how tired you had been recently and it pained him, knowing that he couldn’t do anything to ease the stress from work. he tried massaging your shoulders, making you your favourite meals, buying you some flowers but nothing was working.

“hey love…” he whispered sitting next to you on the couch. you simply hummed, acknowledging his presence “are you okay?” that simple question made you break “love why are you crying?” he gently turned your face so you were facing him.

“i’m just so tired…”

“oh baby…come here…” he helped you sit between his legs as his big arms went around you in a comforting way.

“i love my job, i really do, but sometimes is exhausting, especially during summertime…i feel like i’m going to explode any minute…i need a break” you confessed and he listened to you.

“you’re human baby…it’s okay to feel like this” he gently kissed your cheek.

“i know but i hate feeling like this…hell, i even hate waking up in the morning these days knowing all the things i have to go through at work…” you cried into his shoulder.

“i’m so sorry baby, i wish i could do something to help you…i can talk to your boss if you want to? maybe he would give you a few days to rest, you’ve been over stressing about work for so long…you need a break baby” he suggested but you knew his idea wouldn’t work.

“i don’t think it’s gonna work…thank you tho” you sadly smiled at him.

jude hated seeing you like that.

“let me at least take care of you baby…i’m making dinner, we can eat here on the couch while we’re watching a show and then we’ll take a comforting bath together…so i can take care of you and help you relax, what do you think?” he proposed and even though all you wanted to do was sleeping, you and jude haven’t spent quality together for over two weeks and you missed him.

“i think it’s perfect…thank you jude” you smiled at him and his thumbs went to wipe your tears away.

“anything for you baby”

“jude?” you called him.

“mh?”

“can we stay like this for 5 minutes?” you asked him as you put your arms over his shoulders.

“of course love” he smiled as his arms formed like a protective barrier around your body. your head on his chest as you were listening to his steady heartbeat, and it was helping you calm down.

it was the simply thing, having jude’s arms around you, his perfume almost intoxicating you from how sweet and delicate it was and his love and protectiveness for you that made you feel better.

[meilarchives]

okay wait idk if you did juno's ask game already but 🍵 🍨 🍒 & 🫖 for your spiderverse or f1 reality if you'd like !! love you mimi :3

JUNO'S S/O ASK GAME ( spiderverse dr )

🍵 STRAWBERRY MATCHA ♱ what scents remind you of your relationship? maybe this is a perfume or cologne your lover wears, a candle scent that reminds you of the soothing energy you feel around them, or an essential oil you spritz on your pillow before shifting.

honestly peter always just smells so metallic. he's always fiddling with throwing knives and cleaning guns that the smell of metal is just embedded into his skin.

i actually love the smell of metal - or maybe i've just grown used to it because of him - but the smell of it mixed with the smell of the candles scattered around my apartment reminds me of us so much.

🍨 AFFOGATO ♱ how does your s/o show love? does their love language align with one of the traditional 5 types, or is it something unique to them? do they have a special way of making you feel appreciated?

the silent understanding that passes so naturally between the two of us is what makes me feel most loved by him. we're so different and we've led such different lives but we always just know whats going on and how the other person is feeling.

🍒 CHERRY COLA ♱ when you think of them, what is the first song or lyric that sparkles into your mind? why does this remind you of them or your relationship?

"we should just kiss like real people do" — by hozier

whoever decided they were going to make nyc's best line of defense against ALIENS two 17 year olds needs to pack it up #letusliveourlives (complaining as tho i didn't literally chose to shift here)

🫖 CHAMOMILE TEA ♱ how does your s/o help soothe or ground you when you’re feeling overwhelmed, stressed, or anxious? if you’re having a bad day, what do they do to help?

peter is the most stressed out person i know. he lives in a tiny cramped apartment that he barely ever bothers to clean, he's got super-soldier serum running through his veins as a constant reminder of his pretty shit childhood, and he's always late to everything, even if he tries to be early. so 90% of the time its me who's grounding him.

of course, being the reason earth 333's new york city hasn't collapsed (not to brag or anything), i do get a little strung up - but the first thing i always do for that is go to my grandfather's church. sometimes he'll sit with me, but he knows that when i get like this i prefer to be alone.

[toomuchracket]

d-word matty leaving secret presents on girlies desk when she's having a bad week and she's like "who are these from???" they're just little bits, her fav lip balm, a tea she likes, and a face mask.

she talks to him about it being like, "Do you know who's doing it? it's so nice and I wanna thank them!!" Of course he's not gonna tell, so he's like, "No, no idea! sorry darling!"

she eventually finds out when she gets in early one day and sees him leaving something. He doesn't spot her, though, so he thinks it's still a secret. he comes over at lunch and is like, "You get anything from your secret admirer today?" And she's like "oh you admire me, huh?"

matty gets all stuttery and apologises because he thinks she finds it weird, so to calm him, she touches his arm or something and is like "no don't apologise, I love the presents thank you, matty," and perhaps even gives him a kiss on the cheek, then walks away.

matty is just so in love he can't think straight bc she touched him?? and kissed his cheek?? maybe this little crush isn't one-sided??

STOP IT THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you basically wrote it all for me so i'm just going to dissect little bits if that's chill. like he so WOULD be perceptive of the little things you like and use all the time, like the tea and the lip balm and the sweets you get most excited about when anyone brings some in. and also imagining him trying to find the lip balm in the shop, especially if it's a slightly less obvious one, asking a staff member for help finding it and also being like "those sheet masks... can you recommend any good ones?", bless him. and i think you'd hope that it was actually matty leaving you the presents, but you doubted it, and your hopes were a little bit dashed when you asked him and he was like "oh idk" - when you do catch him putting a candle on your desk one morning (that you're beyond touched to notice matches the perfume you like to wear to work), you literally have to go out into the corridor and jump up and down with joy for a second lol. matty does get extremely flustered when he finds out you've clocked him as the gift-giver right as you guys are leaving the office that night, but it soon dissipates, replaced with what can only be described as gooiness as you thank him with sparkly eyes and a kiss on the cheek - the gooiness is then also replaced by giddiness, as you hold out your hand to him and say "shall we get the train home, then?" and don't let it go until you're on the platform at the station (a bold move on your part, but you like holding him), matty just so excited about the subtle confirmation that you like him as much as and in the same way he likes you <3

[vampire-connoisseur]

Ok I was going to sample all 3 but I led with the one I was most excited about and I cant move on

Inexcusable Evil

Oh my god.

So right out the jar its like a new rubber apricot smell

Then on skin it seems to intensify over the course of a few minutes?

And the apricot becomes this fresh nectar smell thats overwhelmed with smoke, and the rubber morphs into something like a hardware store crossed with an indoor skating venue crossed with a construction site-- like concrete and stadium lights (you know how those smell? and like a running track in the sun

Then I think ozone comes through, and some kind of pungent plant.

I don't smell any blood and there isn't even much metallic to it, but there is a citronella candle smell which is kind of similar.

It isn't without sweetness but it's definitely overwhelmingly non-wood smoke/concrete/medicinal plant - scented and the sweetness provides this intrigue. Maybe more like jasmine lavender chamomile sweet than generally floral sweet.

Also, it leads with staler scents and then winds up much fresher, towards the end it smells like the beginning of rain on a parking lot, which is one of my favorite smells... then that morphs into something piney.

I mentioned smoke, but I'm not quite sure if it smells like gunpowder to me. If I didn't know the perfume was about war or that it was supposed to have a gunpowder smell, I don't think I would have made the connection. To be honest, my experience with gunpowder is limited but I recall it as a much warmer smell, with a very particular starting and end point. That's from fairly old fashioned guns though, and other than that I mostly only know even MORE old fashioned guns, which smell bad.

People say it's nauseating-- something about it does make me feel like I might become motion sick. But it doesn't escalate past that, and I get migraines from new car new shoe and hardware store smells.

There is also a genuine burning plastic smell. I think people associate burning plastic with the things "plastic" calls to mind, but I don't mean like the corn plastic 3d printers use, but like genuine burning plastic. where its hard to remember what it smells like but if you do smell it you go "thats burning plastic" and you get worried. In my case it smells like my old computer... good times.

It is darkly sweet. Almost like honeysuckle but NOT the light nectary part. Cross lavender and honeysuckle and remove the distinct lavendery parts. It picks up a very organic smell, idk.

I'm going to wait until it fades and see if it shifts at all in the meantime, then maybe try the next one.

Maybe I'm lying to myself but this feels completely wearable? If it weren't so expensive... I'd love to smell like this. If I met someone who smelled like this I would try to eat them.

[lesdemonium]

instead of actually writing i have decided to post a snippet of a sterek fic that’s actually about stiles and noah.

TW: alcoholism mentions, heavy death talk, terminal illness talk, etc.

When Stiles opened the door to find the Sheriff hunched over the table, a bottle of Jameson held tightly in his fist, Stiles almost laughed. It was all so familiar. The dimmed lights, whiskey in the air, his dad’s muffled cries and curled body. Stiles had to remind himself he was no longer sixteen and scared. He felt sixteen and scared.

“I can’t imagine that’s going to help your kidney function,” Stiles observed as he hung his coat up in the closet.

His dad only grunted. Stiles crossed the small kitchen, opened the door to the cabinet. Stiles took out two more whiskey glasses and set them on the table. He reached out expectantly for the bottle, and Noah merely raised a confused eyebrow out for him.

“Are you planning on chugging that yourself, or can we drink this like civilized people?” Stiles asked, and even offered a wan smile, which Noah matched as he handed the bottle over. Stiles poured them both two fingers of whiskey, no ice to water it down.

For a long time, neither one of them spoke. They sipped in silence as the shadows washed over them. After all, how do you begin a conversation like that? Nothing was the right thing to say, nothing would ease the tightness in their chests. Of course Noah was drinking again–he was going to die Why not wash the news down with something bitter, warm, and guaranteed to ease his pain? Or, at least, his ability to process his pain.

“I always hated the smell of Jameson,” Stiles said, finally. “Did you know that?”

Noah looked up again, an eyebrow raised. “No, kid, I can’t say that I did.”

Stiles nodded. “The house always reeked of it. I liked it better after you went to that retirement party and got really into flavored vodkas. That period didn’t last long, I think the sugar killed you, but you always smelled so sweet. I could pretend it was a perfume or candle or something. Maybe you had taken up burning incense. But whiskey always just smells like whiskey. And it burned my nose whenever you would get me to help you with some computer thing.”

Noah looked down into his glass, shoulders heavy. “I didn’t–ah. I didn’t realize you… noticed that. Changes like that.” He swallowed audibly, and Stiles couldn’t look at him anymore. He had swapped one hurt for another, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I noticed all of it. How much heavier the recycling bins were. How late you came to bed, even after early shifts. How tired you looked all the time.” Stiles shrugged, as if the memories were inconsequential. As if he hadn’t replayed them over and over. “You were still a good dad, you still loved me and did what you could, but you weren’t… okay.”

Noah’s laugh was soft, breathy. “A good dad? What sort of ‘good dad’ gets blackout drunk five nights a week?”

“The one that still shows up to all the lacrosse games he can. The one that busts his ass trying to keep his community safe. The one that got me out of so many bad situations and never once made me feel like I was hopeless,” Stiles answered. “You were a great dad to me, and I loved you more than anything. But.”

“But?”

“But I also hated you.”

Noah sucked in a breath. He nodded a little, and Stiles’s heart lurched. This felt terrible. It felt wrong and cold and almost evil to kick his dad while he was down. But Stiles needed this, needed to say all of this.

“Whenever you were drunk, I was so afraid. I had already lost mom, and I knew I was losing you, too. And, as a kid, that’s terrifying, you know? I had to ask things most kids never even think about. Where would I go, if you were both gone? What would happen to the house? Who do I call if something happened to you? It was just–it was too much.” Stiles took a shaky breath. “Hell, it’s too much now. But for a kid, for someone who had no idea what to do, how to–” 

Stiles cut himself off, the words suddenly thick in his throat. He looked away, his eyes instead finding the same spot on the wall his eyes always went to when he was a kid and his dad lectured him. His “I need to escape this moment” spot. This time, Noah’s hand found his. There was no escaping this one. Stiles swallowed.

“When you were on, it was great. But you weren’t very often. You stank and you were tired and cranky and forgetful and just… wrong. You were wrong so often. And that meant that I was alone. I had to just figure it out by myself. That was too much for me.” Stiles shook his head. “I learned pretty quickly after losing mom that I couldn’t depend on you to be around, either. And that meant that I had no one. And I hated you for that.”

Noah let out a breath–a long one, as if he had been holding it in for a while. Neither one of them said anything for a long time; the only sound the clink of their glasses returning to the table. The neck of the bottle hitting glass as they refilled. The bottle was nearly empty by the time Noah cleared his throat. Their glasses were empty by the time he spoke.

“That’s a hell of a thing to learn as a kid,” Noah said. “I would have hated me, too.”

The breath Stiles let out was shaky. After all this time, he had hoped for more. He had hoped that his dad, his superhero dad, had some wisdom, some answer, some magic touch that would make all the pain go away. Stiles had held onto a fantasy that somehow he would tell his dad how he felt, how he had always felt, and Noah would fix it for him. The healing kiss that made his pain go away, just like Noah had been able to do when Stiles was little. It was painful to know that wasn’t real. That he had expected the impossible from his dad yet again.

Somehow, though, when Stiles met Noah’s eye, he did feel better. Not fixed. Nothing had fundamentally changed or become more clear or resolved. But Stiles had spoken the words he was afraid would always change who they were at their core, and the ground hadn’t fallen out from underneath him. In fact, Noah was still holding Stiles’s hand. Noah was still there. The words “I hate you” didn’t wedge them apart. At least, it hadn’t yet.

As of right now, the world was still ending. Noah was still dying. But all that mattered was that Stiles was at the table with Noah, holding his father’s hand, speaking his truth. For now, that could be enough. It could be the life raft that got them through the flooding ahead.

They stayed there, sitting together on the uncomfortable chairs, their glasses and the bottle empty, their hands held tightly, until their eyes could stay open no longer. About the third time Stiles had been woken by his dad’s snores, he stood up, and shepherded them both up the stairs to their respective rooms.

Before Noah went into his bedroom, he took Stiles’s hand again, clasped it tightly in his, and just looked at Stiles. Stiles noticed, for once, that meeting Noah’s eye meant looking dead ahead, instead of up. He had been the same height as his father for years, but somehow he had always been looking up, slouching down in favor of his father’s stature. Now, Stiles stood tall. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, but he would not bend.

“I’m so proud of you,” Noah whispered. 

He took Stiles’s cheeks in his hands and pulled him down to kiss Stiles’s forehead. When Stiles righted himself, Noah’s smile was crinkly and large–taking up his entire face. Like he had nothing to worry about. Like he had everything to be happy about. Like Stiles was everything he had to be happy about.

Noah walked into his room and Stiles was left with uneven breath.

[shawtuzi]

Thinking of pervert!armin rn….

-Pervert!Armin your oh so sweet roommate who keeps the apartment neat and tidy. Making sure to buy your favorite scented candles and oils(vanilla and lavender)  so when you first get home the aroma immediately calms you. You always asked time and time again how he knew the two scents were your ultimate favorite and his response was always a quick, “I just know you like the back of my hand.” You didn’t need to know he was constantly smelling your clothes and bed sheets wrapping himself in the intoxicating scent that was you. 

-Pervert!Armin who was nice enough to do your laundry! You always came home to your clothes neatly folded on your bed along with a clean room. You always thanked him with a hug and gracious smile, “you’re the best Minny!” you squealed, pressing a wet kiss to his blushing cheek. Of course you didn’t have to know in the process of washing your clothes he was also stealing them (mainly panties of course). While you would be out with your friends Pervert!Armin was backed up against the laundry room wall, pants down at his ankles with his cock in hand while his other hand was pressing your used panties against his nose.

-Pervert!Armin who took up baking just to see your cute little face light up at the smell of baked goods. “Mmm these cinnamon rolls are so good Min! What’s in them?” you smiled taking another bite of the sweet treat he prepared for you. “It’s my secret recipe” Pervert!Armin smiled, patting you on the head. You definitely didn’t need to know he maybe…kinda…possibly nutted in the icing. Don’t be mad at him he heard it helps people fall in love quicker and he just loves you so much.

-Pervert!Armin who presses his ear against your door every night to hear you using your rose toy, your high pitched moans and whines sounding like music to his ears. Pervert!Armin who jerks his dick to the sound of your moans biting back his own to make sure he didn’t get caught. God you sounded so pretty. He would give anything to have you underneath him making those beautiful noises. “Min! Min! Min!” you would cry cumming all over his sensitive cock. After you were finished using your toy Pervert!Armin would tiptoe back to his room replaying the audio he took on his phone until he fell asleep.

-Pervert!Armin who made a fake account to subscribe to your onlyfans nearly combusting when you told him about it in a drunken fit. “Hey Minny…wanna know a secret?” you asked leaning closer to him your breath smelling of Pink Whitney and cranberry juice. “S-sure” he mumbled gripping the couch cushion tightly at the feeling of your body pressing against his. You whipped out your phone and showed him your OF page and the many likes and subscribers you had, but as soon the conversation started it was over in an instant, your drunk mind finding interest in something else. Of course that night he made the fake account and jerked his cock to your nudes photos and videos until he was shooting blanks

Pervert!Armin who absolutely hates when you bring other guys home. You invited Eren Jaeger over to hangout and let’s just say he had never felt that kind of anger before in his life. Pervert!Armin who tells all these bad things about Eren as soon as he leaves some true and some not so true. “Wow I didn’t know he was that kind of guy thank you for telling me Min” you pouted wrapping your arms around his bringing him in for a bone crushing hug. Your breasts were smushing his face and it took every ounce of self control he had to not nuzzle his face in your chest, but he did make sure to breathe in extra heavy to smell your perfume

-Pervert!Armin whose prayers were finally answered when he awoke to you pawing at his cock over the blanket a needy pout on your face. “Need you Min…please?” you whined jutting your lip out even more making Pervert!Armin groan. You lifted up your night shirt exposing your entire body to him, nipples hardening from the cool air of his room. “Get over here.”

-Pervert!Armin who had you crying on his dick all night making sure you were a cross eyed drooling mess by the time he was done with you. “Pussy’s so fucking good better than I could have ever imagined. Jesus!” he moaned loudly when he felt you clench down impossibly hard on him. Pervert!Armin who came deep in your pussy one last time with a guttural groan, his cum seeping out dripping on the inside of your shaking thighs. “Hmm love you so much Y/N don’t ever leave me.”

-Pervert!Armin who woke up a sweating, panting mess with a raging boner underneath his sweats. “W-what? B-but she was just h-here” he whimpered clutching his bedsheets in his clammy hands. He peered under his blanket and saw a pretty decent sized wet patch staining his sweats “it was a d-dream?” He heard a soft knock on the door before you peeked in, a smile on your face. “Good morning Minny! I’m gonna go out with the girls. I'll be back in a couple hours” you beamed, blowing him a quick kiss before shutting the door once more leaving a whiny unbearably horny Armin.

-Pervert!Armin who stood up on shaky legs making his way to your room once he heard you leave. He opened the door and the first thing that caught his eye was your used panties on the ground practically begging for him to snatch them up. And he did of course, grabbing one of your used bras for extra measure. It was going to be a long day.

[slut4menig]

Afar || M. verstappen

Summary: Max has been so busy with f1 it seems he’s forgotten about the girl at home waiting for him

Genre: angst

Warnings: max being a dickhead, no happy ending

Max X fem! Reader

It was nights like this, the nights I’d sit in the dark on the couch watching tv, waiting for max to come home. I’d sit in pity, god I didn’t even know where he was anymore.

Tonight was our Third anniversary, I feel so stupid for even trying. I looked around at the dinner I had made for us, the candles, the effort into making the house look nice.

Now I was here 2:26 am, no sign of max, no calls, no texts. I was sitting, Mascara running down my face, crying in the dress I had been saving my money to buy especially for tonight.

But it was all for nothing. Everything was for nothing. I was on my second glass of red wine when I heard the door open to see a tipsy max walk through the door.

“Y/n?” God I hated that, he stopped using pet names, he doesn’t even know me anymore.

“Max, I’ve been waiting for 6 fucking hours” I pointed a finger at the candle lit dinner

“Why? You never told me we had a date night? Don’t fucking blame this on me” he accused and I just laughed

“Really max? It’s our anniversary” I looked at his blank face, he couldn’t think of a reply

“Where were you max?” Tears were now welling up in the eyes as I gave him a stare

“I was out” he muttered, I rolled my eyes and gave a huff, I could see the guilt washing over on his face. He was about to answer but I’ve had enough.

“Max I can’t do this anymore, do you even love me anymore?” I questioned, all the rage coming up

“Of course I do! I love you I promise” he was trying to defend himself but someone who loves me wouldn’t stand me up, someone who loves me would care for me.

“No you don’t, you’re always at work max, I only ever get to see you on 2 days of the weeks and you spend those partying or something!” The tears were now streaming down

“You can’t tell me what to fucking to with my life y/n” he was angry

“You don’t Call Me ‘Baby’, or ‘Schatz’ anymore, also I’m not telling you what to do I just wish you’d acknowledge me” I whispered

“You’re so dramatic” he rolled his eyes and laughed at me

“You’re not the man I fell in love with” he looked pale, he had nothing to say

“I can’t do this, us, we aren’t meant to be together” I walked past him. He grabbed my arm.

“Y/n, baby, no, we can get through this, it’s just a small fight, I’m sorry I’m sorry”

“Just fucking leave me alone” I whispered, walking out the door to leave him drowning in his sorrows.

“Y/n please stop we can try again” he shouted as I hopped in the cab I ordered around 5 minutes before our fight.

“Goodbye max” the cab driver stayed silent, understanding what was happening.

🕊️ (time skip) 🕊️

“It’s okay y/n” I sat in the arms of my bestfriend Isabelle

“Was i the problem?” I questioned rhetorically to myself

“No y/n, he was a dickhead, you’re fine and amazing, now I have ice cream so do you wanna watch tv?” She passed me a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough and we ordered takeout.

Max POV

how could I let someone that I love so much just walk out the door. I let the love of my life go. How could I be so fucking stupid.

I was left in our shared home. Her perfume was still lurking around the place. The onyx shadows mimicking her as if she was still here but the house was silent, empty.

It’s like a piece of my heart was ripped out. The feeling inside me was hollow. Felt like I had nothing left. The one thing that helped me, cared for me, celebrated with me, got me through my downfalls.

I miss her already, i miss her laugh and her smile. I want her back. I want her back so so bad. I would give anything for just one last kiss. I regret it

I Moped down to the floor, vodka in hand. Tonight was something I didn’t want to ever remember.

🕊️ (time skip) 🕊️ (1 month later)

Y/N POV

It was race weekend, and as much as I hate to admit it, I need to see him. I want to see him, so every Friday Saturday and Sunday I spend watching him, my love.

I spend my hours watching him from afar.

[angelicizedeve]

⋆ ..˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝓪 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 .*+:｡.｡˚

feat. diluc x female reader

synopsis:  after a night of partying at the dawn winery where even the self-controlled diluc got drunk, he asked you out on a date. already in a drunken state yourself, you accepted.

genre: fluff diluc x female reader

notes: im sorry if this is cringe 😭. i've never written a kiss scene before so idk if its good or not lmao

you stared at yourself in the mirror, searching for any flaws in your appearance. you wanted to look good for this date.

did he really ask me out on a date? ME?

it was so sudden and out of character for him. you didn’t even have to think twice about saying yes, but now you regret it. wouldn’t it be awkward going out on a date with the diluc ragnvindr? hopefully not. he was taking you out to a fancy restaurant, even insisting that he’d pick you up. 

would he even remember that you were supposed to go out tonight? i mean, the two of you had been really drunk. honestly, you didn’t even know he was capable of getting drunk. diluc had been super clumsy and unusually flirtatious, which you reciprocated in your also intoxicated state.

the first thing you’d done when you woke up was try to fix the hangover you had, which thank goodness, wasn’t as bad as you expected. then you planned out your outfit, and took your time washing your hair, styling it, doing your makeup, painting your nails, and finally, putting on your dress. it was a long, black, body-con dress with thin straps. the accessories you’d picked out were a thick silver necklace, rings, and dangly earrings, as well as some black heels. finally, you sprayed a bit of perfume and rubbed it on your wrists and on the back of your ears, just in case he decided to hug you. you had to admit, you looked beautiful. 

glancing at the clock on your nightstand, you saw it was 7:48pm. he said he’ll be here at 8. with that, you shrugged on your coat, grabbed your purse, and headed down to the main floor of your apartment building. you sank into one of the comfy chairs, nervously tapping your feet on the floor as you gazed out onto the road to see if diluc had arrived. at 7:55pm, he gracefully parked his car and came up the stairs to get you. you took a deep breath and opened the door.

“hi diluc!” you said cheerfully. he stared at you for a moment, then said, “hello [name], you look..uh, really nice.” your face heated up and you felt a smile appearing. 

“thank you. you look nice as well.” 

“thanks. well, shall we?”

diluc held out his arm, which you graciously took to support yourself in your heels.

when you got to the restaurant, the hostess led you to your table. you were thankful you had chosen to dress up instead of wearing something a little more casual. the restaurant had some dim but warm lights, small round tables with white tablecloths, with tall white candles and a single red rose in a glass vase on each one. you each took your seats and observed the diner.

“this place is really nice. thank you for taking me here.” you said quietly. diluc smiled.

“of course. and not to worry, i’ll pay for everything.”

you raised an eyebrow. “um, yeah no, not if I have anything to do with it.”

diluc mimicked your expression. “mhm, sure.”

eventually the tension melted and the two of you chatted like you usually do. when it was time to order you both ended up getting pasta, you the spaghetti bolognese and him the chicken alfredo. the food came steaming hot and you both clinked wine glasses before beginning your meals.

“mmm, this is so good!” you said, covering your mouth as you chewed. “wanna try some?”

“sure,” diluc said, reaching over and twirling the pasta over his fork. he chewed thoughtfully before nodding in approval. “want a bite of mine?” you wiped your mouth with a napkin and a muffled ‘sure’. he reached over and grabbed your work, swirling the pasta around it and adding a piece of chicken before holding it out and putting it in your mouth. it was hard to ignore the butterflies that the small action invoked in your stomach. the rest of the dinner was filled with similar actions that that made you want to giggle and swing your feet, but you kept your composure.

after a while, the waitress came up to you both and asked if you were ready to pay the bill. diluc nodded and she gave the reciept. your eyes widened. it added up to that much?

“thank you,” you said quickly to the waitress. “i’ll be paying.”

diluc shot you a look. “no, that’s alright, i will.” 

you reached for the paying machine but diluc’s hands landed on yours. “[name], really. it’s my treat.” he said quietly, with a soft look in his eyes.

damn it. how am i supposed to resist that?

reluctantly, you pushed the machine towards him and crossed your arms. after thanking the waitress, diluc held his hand out to you and you headed back to his car.

when you arrived at your apartment, diluc helped you up the stairs. “uh..[name]. i wanted to…thank you. for what a fun time we had tonight.”

you had to do a double take, because standing in front of you was a blushy and shy diluc, not the ever stone-faced, straight forward one you always see. you smiled sweetly and chuckled. “thank you too. it was really nice. and thanks for paying too…i promise i’ll pay ya back.” you said shyly. 

the two of you looked up and locked eyes. then it just happened. his arm slithered around your waist and pulled you closer, your arms resting on his shoulders. and then his lips landed on yours. they were soft and sweet like a cloud of cotton candy. your hands instinctively buried themselves in his soft locks of hair, and when you pulled away, a shy smile grew on both your faces that neither of you could control. “see you tomorrow, [name].” diluc said, before giving you a forehead kiss and walking back to his car, leaving you happily surprised in front of your apartment.

© angelicizedeve 2022

[boom-bakugou]

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

-

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

[saltybaltic]

AYO YOU AMAZING WRITER YOU💖 Can you write an nsfw Natasha x reader sex pollen fic where r goes on a mission with everyone and is the only one that gets hit with the sex pollen and thinks nothing of it until they get back for the debrief and r starts feeling the effects during the meeting with the rest of the avengers in there like the fever and aches and is super turned on and humiliated and everyone is confused trying to figure out what’s wrong then Bruce says the only thing that can help is sex and she picks Nat to help her out? Something super smutty 😳

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - EXPOSURE

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic

Synopsis: On a mission you seem to be the only one who’s been hit with this air borne drug. Fortunately you have a great team mate to help you through it

Warnings: 18+ content, f/f sex, sex pollen so the usual dub-con for this trope

Words: 2345

You’d really thought nothing of it until you’d gotten off the quinjet. Even the whole journey home you had felt fine, brushing off everyone’s concern with a flick of the wrist as if it was nothing. You really had felt fine. The exposure to the gas back at the enemy base had been minimal, barely a few seconds, and after a brief once over by one of the SHIELD medics, you had been given the all clear that it was probably fine.

It wasn’t until you were walking towards the briefing room to have the post mission meeting that you started to feel anything unusual. Your skin was starting to itch with a burning hotness that was impossible to ignore. When you had parted ways with the team to quickly get changed out of your combat gear before the brief, you had treated yourself to a very cold shower but if anything it only seemed to have made you even more aware of how hot you were feeling. Washing at all was starting to feel like a total waste of time, your hands already clammy with sweat and the hair by your temples beginning to dampen and cling to the side of your head. Your brain felt fuzzy but at that same time it was like you were thinking with perfect clarity. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Looking around the briefing room as you entered, it was as if you were wearing tinted glasses, everything not quite the way it should be and with a tinge of deep red or orange. You could feel every beat of your pulse against your skull, every hammer of your heart in your chest. Your throat felt dry yet you couldn’t stop running your tongue over your lips to prevent your mouth from watering.

It wasn’t until Natasha sat down beside you that it became apparent that something was very wrong. The smell hit you like a bus and it only intensified everything you were already feeling. It was like your senses had been dialled up threefold. You could take her all in as if it were carefully arranged layers just for you to enjoy; the coconut of her shampoo, the sweet smell of the lotion she’d applied after the shower, the laundry detergent on her fresh clothes, the smell of her perfume.

Maybe it wasn’t the most subtle reaction you could have had if you were hoping not to attract any attention, but jumping up from your seat so violently that your chair fell backwards with a loud crash certainly ensured that everyone’s eyes were now on you.

“Are you okay?” The concerned voice of Bruce from the other side of the room hit you but you could barely focus on what he was saying.

Standing up from her own seat to look at you more closely, Natasha cocked her head to the side as she examined your flushed skin, heavy breathing and blown out pupils. She turned back to the others in the room with a frown, “See, I told you she wasn’t alright.”

“But the medics checked her over.”

“Oh like they know everything.”

“Well they know more than you!”

“It was only a minor exposure and we don’t even know what it was.”

“She said she was feeling fine on the quinjet, I mean this could be something else.”

“Sure, it’s just a huge coincidence that she feels like this after being gassed.”

As the team descended into an argument, you couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Nor, did you care. You felt restless and fidgety, tapping your foot up and down against the ground as you rubbed at your forearms uncomfortably. Your jaw was clenched tight, tilting your head from side to side to work the muscles in your neck as you tried to get your breathing to return to normal. It felt like an adrenaline rush, that feeling that hits you just as the rollercoaster is about to go over the big drop. But it also felt like a hunger, a craving for something like you were a predator that needed to hunt. It was too hard to put your finger on it, too early in the stages of whatever you were feeling to identify it yet.

The sound of someone calling your name broke you from your thoughts, looking up at the rest of the occupants in the room to see them all watching you expectantly.

“What?”

Sitting down by a laptop at the head of the table, Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he tapped a few keys before looking up at you, “I’ll have to use the database we have to try and identify what you’ve been exposed to. But I need you to concentrate and answer a few questions okay?”

You nodded your head, closing your eyes momentarily as a wave of heat washed over your body and you tried to remained focused, “Sure, sure, sure let’s do it.”

“So this gas ... could you see it? Did it have a colour?”

It was so hard to focus on the question, your brain working at a million miles a minute but unable to make sense of whatever it was that you were thinking about, “Erm ... I don’t ... it was kind of ... like a greyish blue, I guess.”

“And a smell? Did it have a smell?”

“It was ... sweet. I suppose. Yeah ... but like ... a dessert or something. Like someone had lit a vanilla candle.”

The questions seemed to go on forever, with the occasional interjection from someone else as they tried to help with the answers. Each question narrowed the possibilities down further, Bruce carefully inputting the information into the computer. By the time he got to the bottom of it, you could barely think straight any more, your hands balling into fists as you tried to process the discussion that was taking place around you.

“That’s ridiculous, they don’t actually use that stuff.”

“Well obviously they do because here we are.”

“If they don’t use it then how is it in their files? We only have the information because we took it from them.”

“But there’s never actually been a case of it being used before.”

“Until now.”

“I mean just wanting to have a lot of sex doesn’t sound that bad, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

“Tony! Can you be serious for one second.”

“It isn’t that simple. This is like a real urge. It can be quite uncomfortable for the subject they-“

“The subject?! She has a name you know.”

“But she’s not gonna do anything crazy right?”

“Well no she won’t do anything she wouldn’t usually want to do but the need will be off the charts. It can drive people crazy if they don’t get some sort of relief from it.”

Finally you couldn’t take any more, clearing your throat loudly to get their attention and gesturing towards the door, “Yeah so this is pretty awkward, little embarrassing, bit too intimate to be honest so I think I’m gonna take off.”

“Wait, you should go to the med bay.”

You interrupted Steve’s statement with a laugh, already making your way towards the door as you used all of your willpower to ignore the powerful surge of hormones and need coursing through your body, “What are they gonna do for me there exactly?”

“I dunno, some of those nurses are pretty cute.”

Despite the fact Tony’s joke earned him a disapproving look from almost everyone, you were actually grateful for it, laughing again as you took his words as your cue to escape and hastily left. You were halfway to your room when you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind you.

“Wait up.”

God even the sound of her voice was getting too much now.

“Nat. Please, I really really can’t be around you.”

Despite your statement, the red head fell into step just behind you and followed you down the corridor, “I wanted to make sure you got back alright.”

“And while I appreciate that, you’re way too hot to be this close to me.” your eyes fell closed at your words, the effects obviously starting to hit you stronger now as the confession fell freely from your lips. You never spoke to Natasha like this, you wouldn’t have dared on a normal day for fear she’d knock you to ground. Whatever you’d inhaled earlier that day didn’t seem to share your reservations as the arousal started to make itself known.

Natasha pursed her lips, not wanting to embarrass you as she was fairly certain you would never have normally said something like that to her. Certainly not so blasé. “It’s okay. I know this must be ... overwhelming.”

You snorted, “That’s one word for it. But seriously ... I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”

Stopping outside your bedroom door, you looked back at the other woman and immediately had to close your eyes and turn your head away instead as a strong pang of arousal hit you, “Jesus.”

“What? Does it hurt?” the concern in Natasha���s voice was obvious, watching you carefully as your eyes bunched closed tighter and you pushed out a shaky breath.

Shaking your head frantically from side to side, you went to grab the door handle from behind the other woman, “It’s uncomfortable. It’s way too intense. I just wanna ... fuck ... I need to get inside ... I need ... I need you to move, please.”

The sensation of Natasha’s hands coming up to rest on your cheeks caused your breath to catch in your throat. It was almost too much, the feeling of her soft skin on yours was like electricity, a shiver travelling the length of your spine and a heavy drop hitting your stomach. One of her thumbs brushed over your cheek before she spoke, “Let me help you.”

When you opened your eyes to look at her, the feeling that came over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was as if someone else had taken control of you, like you were watching from the sidelines as your body acted of it’s own accord. The moment your eyes had locked with Natasha’s, everything you’d been fighting to control took hold of you and in three brisk steps forward you had the other woman caged between the door and your body, one of your hands coming up to rest on the wood beside her head.

“Natasha.” You paused to wet your lips, ignoring the huskiness to your voice as you scrambled around in your head for the smallest ounce of restraint, “You really need to leave now before I do something I can’t take back.”

If you had been expecting any reaction from the other woman, what she actually did would have been somewhere at the bottom of your list. Over the year or so that you’d worked with Natasha you’d had a mostly professional relationship, though that wasn’t to say you weren’t friendly with one another. However the forwardness of her next move was new territory all together.

Moving her hands from your cheeks, she ran them slowly down to either side of your neck. You could do nothing but lean into the gesture, goosebumps rising and flesh searing at the feeling of her fingertips digging into you. You were so lost in the sensation of her touch that you hadn’t realised she’d leaned closer until her hot breath hit the shell of your ear and she spoke in a low whisper, “But just think how good it would feel if you let me help you.”

Her words actually pulled a growl from the back of your throat, the ever growing heat between your thighs magnifying significantly at her words, “Nat ... last warning.”

Instead of backing down, Natasha tilted her head enough that her lips could attach to the side of your neck before speaking again, “Stop fighting it, I know you want me.”

That was enough. You couldn’t have prevented it no matter what had tried to stop you, pushing the door open with one hand as the other gripped the back of her neck and pulled her into a searing kiss. Practically falling through the door together, Natasha’s hands found your waist and all you could do was groan at the relief of the full body contact. Feeling the way her breasts pressed up against your chest, her tongue slipping into your mouth, her hands around your waist as yours slipped down to grope at her ass. God it was intoxicating and still you wanted more

If you had any control over the urges that were powering your body you’d probably have wanted to take your time. Your attraction to Natasha wasn’t something you were particularly ashamed of or desperate to hide. However you’d barely got as far as building up a friendship with the red head and so jumping straight into sex seemed like you were skipping a few important steps. Not to mention the fact that you were fairly certain this was not going to be a terribly slow or tender encounter. No. With the way you were already pulling her clothing from her body and tearing at your own, you both knew that this was something else all together.

Fortunately for both parties Natasha really didn’t mind. Of course after Bruce had explained the effects you would be feeling, what else would she be expecting really? But in the time the two of you had been working together she had come to care for you and the idea of you struggling alone wasn’t something she cared for. Also she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about you in a sexual way before, granted she never thought this would be how it happened.

In all your haste to get Natasha undressed you actually fumbled several times with the fastening of her bra, sure that you’d be embarrassed under normal circumstances but currently too frustrated and impatient to care. You were relieved when Natasha wordlessly reached around and undid the clasp herself, throwing the item across the room before wrapping her arms around your body to do the same with your clothing.

You could barely register what was happening as the two of you staggered backwards into your bedroom, barely managing not to trip over the clothing and shoes that you’d discarded on the way. You were too lost in her to bring yourself to care about being careful. Just kissing her was absolute heaven. Her tongue sliding over yours, lips working frantically together. You had expected Natasha to be a good kisser and maybe it was just the effects of what you had been exposed to but it was like a sparks were flying, a warm wave washing over your body and a pang of arousal with every soft moan from the red head that vibrated against your lips. The way she would occasionally suck your tongue more harshly into her mouth made you feel wobbly on your feet, and the sensation of her nipping your lower lip between her teeth had you desperate for more.

It didn’t take long for you to be pinned on the mattress beneath her, both naked now and lips still moulded together as she settled herself on top of you. Already you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against her thigh, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that had started to build. If anything you needed it more now, the arousal bordering on uncomfortable as you became acutely aware of just how wet you were against Natasha’s thigh.

The other woman didn’t need to be told, evidence of your arousal already coating her skin. She finally broke the kiss to lean down, but she had barely attached her lips to one of your nipples when you pulled her back up with a frantic shake of your head and a groan, “Please Nat, I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me already, please.”

You felt on the verge of crying you wanted it so bad, the whole experience completely foreign to you. It was bizarre to be overwhelmed with such a primal, animalistic need. Every time you found yourself in bed with a woman you enjoyed everything about it; lavishing her body with attention, the anticipation, the teasing, wanting to take her to the heights of pleasure over and over. This was nothing like that at all. You really just wanted to fuck. More than anything you wanted to come and you were fairly certain if you didn’t soon then it would be the death of you.

Nodding her head in understanding, Natasha pressed her lips to yours again as she propped herself up on one of her elbows, “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You were so soaked by now her fingers slipped easily inside of you and all you could do was lie back and release a loud moan. You weren’t sure whether it was in relief or pleasure but either way you were certain that Natasha’s fingers had to be one of the most wonderful things you’d ever felt in your life. Just one thrust of her digits already had your fingers grabbing at the sheets below you, heels digging into the mattress and head thrown back against the pillow in bliss as finally, finally you were given what you had been craving.

“Good?” asked Natasha, her fingers having stilled inside of you almost immediately as she waited for some kind of signal from you that what she was doing was definitely what you wanted.

Nodding your head hurriedly, you brought her mouth down to meet yours again, mumbling frantically against her lips between kisses, “So fucking good ... keep going.”

Natasha grinned, happy to oblige as she started to move her hand again and picked up a steady pace. Almost immediately your hips were moving of their own accord to match her, grinding down against her fingers as she worked them inside of you. Every thrust was heaven, the woman above you seemingly knowing exactly what you needed as she began to push into you harder and faster with each stroke.

Everything about it was satisfying the urges that had been threatening to overwhelm you. The brush of her hardened nipples against your chest as she moved above you. The frantic pants for breath into your mouth between heated and messy kisses. The intensity of how she was watching you and the subtle smirk on her lips as she knew how much you were enjoying what she was doing. When her thumb came up to brush over your clit you wanted to be embarrassed at the groan of pleasure that rang out in the room but you were too far gone now to care.

All of it was perfect. She was perfect. You could feel your head getting foggy, that faint twitch to your limbs as the pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach. As you tightened around Natasha’s fingers you craved the release that you knew was so close. The way her eyes were locked on you almost made you melt under her gaze, the darkened green eyes and pink tinged cheeks making sure you definitely wanted to have your way with her after this.

You could feel it happening, allowing the sensation of your orgasm to consume you as it started to hit with another brush of your clit and a curl of Natasha’s fingers. A loud cry of her name echoed off the walls at the action, your teeth sinking into the side of her neck in a failed attempt to muffle the noise. You couldn’t catch your breath at the feeling of satisfaction that finally swept over your body, hands gripping at her shoulders and toes curling into the mattress as you relished the moment. Your thighs quivered slightly and you could feel your pussy clenching around Natasha’s fingers, the red head groaning in quiet appreciation at the sensation. It was exactly what you needed.

And just as her fingers were beginning to still, you could already feel the arousal rising again. The tingles of pleasure had barely subsided and you hadn’t even had a chance to catch your breath before you were hungry for more. Natasha seemed to notice it at the same time you did, not missing the way your eyes had clouded over with lust again.

You were filled with relief when you caught her smirking and her fingers started to slowly move again.

Yeah, Natasha was definitely the right person to help you with this problem.

—//—

Find the morning after HERE

[justyvettethings]

Random astro observations 🌸

!I'm not an astrologer so I don't claim this to be right!

Cancer risings tend to have big eyes or some kind of special eyeshape and really fair, almost transparent skin.

Men with dominant Moon or Cancer/ Moon in the 4th house are really close to their mothers. This can lead to problems with their partner, because they'll protect their mother more than their spouse. They love the mother the most and everyone else is after her, even their kids.

The Moon signs are really important if we want to know how family members are with each other when they're at home. For example my father has Leo Moon and me and my mother - Sagittarius Moon. We often quarrel and nobody is giving up on their opinion.

Aquarius energy can be spotted from afar. I can't explain it with words, but let me tell ya when I think someone has aquarian energy and ask them for their zodiac sign (I can't ask them anything more specific because people in my country just don't know a lot about astrology) they always say they're Aquarius. How I do it, honestly I don't know - they just have that specific Aquarius feeling around themselves. Normally I can't spot other archetypes in people that easily, but if we're talking about Aquarius I can sense them from kilometers!

Air placements are really bad with punctuality and they don't give a sh*t about it.

Pisces can be really good emotional manipulators.

Dominant Venus/Libra energy gives a person small teeth, hands, fingers and feet.

Libra risings have really symmetrical faces and they always look after their appearance. Women are obsessed with girly things - perfumes, makeup, candles, body products, skin care. Women in general like these things, but for Libra risings it becomes an unhealthy obsession.

My father and my mother have retrograde planets in the 6th house. They both have chronic health problems.

I don't know if this is legit, but you can see yourself in your parents' 5th house. For example: I have Uranus in Aquarius in the 5th. My father has Uranus in the 5th; The sign of Leo lies in my mother's 5th house. Leo's ruler - the Sun, is in Aquarius. Correct me if I'm wrong.

If Spica is near your ascendant within 10 degrees, congratulations, you're born under the influence of the happy star.

If Moon in Sagittarius was a person, it would be someone who's always taking courses or a person who has admirably high educational degree.

3rd house stellium/dominant Mercury energy gives a person, in my opinion, the best ability - good perception and reproduction of any form of information. They always choose the best words and their speaking is as incredible as the one of a rhetorician.

People think Taurus is the most stubborn archetype, but from my experience Virgos are the most stubborn and touchy. They get REALLY offended if something doesn't go the way they wanted it to. If you disagree with them and don't share their point of view, they take it personally. (Every Virgo I've met acts like this. This doesn't necessarily mean you're like this as well, dear Virgo who's probably reading this).

Don't get offended if Capricorn Sun/Moon/Rising or Saturnian type of person is glaring at your or somebody else. They do it subconsciously and in most cases you're not the reason for this, they do it almost constantly, ESPECIALLY in a company outside of their close friends cycle (which is most likely small).

[kkusuka]

Haikyuu poly headcannons!! <33

 Pairs: Kageyama & Hinata, Oikawa & Iwaizumi, Ushijima & Tendo, Sakusa & Atsumu, Kurro & Kenma, and finally Bokuto & Akaashi. 

part 2

Sfw AND Nsfw 

Slight time skip spoilers!!!

let me know what you want to see next

word count: 2.6K I got a bit carried away. lol

FEMALE READER

Kageyama Tobio  and Hinata Shoyo

Sfw

It's a constant fight for attention

They are polar opposites, Hinata is warm and energetic while Kageyama is confused and awkward, but  they both love you so much it hurts.

How you got together was kind of a funny story, you and Hinata knew each other from middle school and reconnected when you met at a local mall in tokyo. So when you and Hinata started hanging out more he couldn't help but brag to Kageyama about it, which led to him wanting to meet you and thus began the year long fight for your love. 

You couldn't choose between them so they came to the decision that they would just share you!

Your dynamics are pretty simple, you spend as much time with whoever is not at practice at the time, lucky they have two completely different practice schedules, Hinata in the morning and Kageyama in the afternoon.

That meant cuddling with Kags in the morning and cooking lunch with Hinata in the afternoon. 

You guys also have a weekly date night! You have a rotation of who gets to choose what they want to do. 

Unsurprisingly Hinata likes volleyball inspired dates, but he also likes the movie and picnic dates!

Kageyama is a bit more romantic, shockingly (he read a dating book), like romantic dinners and late night walks , shopping, anything to see you happy.

They also love anything you want to do, stay in? They make popcorn for movies. Dinner? Where, what and when should they make a reservation. 

They are literally so whipped for you.

Nsfw

Oh~ ho ho~

I am a firm believer that these two are switches. 

Hinata is a bit more submissive than Kags (for the most part), but he has his moments. 

And i have this thing where Kags makes you and Hinata fuck while he watches biut votgh of you are power bottoms.

Toys toys toys

I'm talking double ended dildos and vibrators galore.

Punishments are usually for Hinata and consist of you riding Kags while he watches, and its absolute torture.

They also have nights where they have you alone and those are sweet and romantic, rose petals and candles. 

It's never boring <33

“Tobio, doesn't she look so pretty?” 

“God Shoyo you’ll cum in your pants if you grind like that” 

“ go fuck yourself on the fucking dldo like a slut” 

Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime 

Sfw

There are two ways that this happened

1. You grew up with them and slowly fell in love through your life, and you all got together in highschool

Or 

2. You met Oikawa in Argentina, literally fell in love at first sight, stars in your eyes. This led to him bringing you back to Japan, which led to you meeting “Iwa-chan” (who looked much more beautiful in person). After hanging out everyday for about 3 weeks Oikawa bright up the idea of sharing

And here you are! 

You guys are all similar but you share personal things with each boy

With oikawa you have the obsession with aliens and you too even have a beauty routine that you do every night before bed.

With Iwaizumi you, of course, make fun of Oikawa at every waking moment. But! You also do all different kinds of exercise with him. You have a monthly yoga class and a swim aerobics program every other tuesday! 

These two spoil you so much it's ridiculous.

Perfumes, jewelry, clothes and even gaming things.

They will get you anything even if you don't want it (and they are rolling in cash so it doesn't really matter.) 

Nsfw

Iwaizumi rules the bedroom.

And as much as Oikawa pretends to be the top, he falls apart the second you kiss him neck. 

Favorite position?

Simple. It can go two ways.

Oikawa laying on his back, Iwa fuking him into heaven and you sitting on his face OR you on your stomach ass up with Iwa between your legs and Oikawa's dick in your mouth. 

The only real times Oikawa is in you is when Iwazumi wants to see both of you be pathetic sluts, or when Oikawa is being punished, mostly cockwarming while he is tied and not able to thrust in you.

 Double penetration?

 Your punishment.

Whine and cry all you want neither of them are slowing down, this is really the only time Oikawa is dominant in the bedroom

“Aw, Tooru, look at her! So pathetic!”

“You look like two whores trying to fuck, Harder brats” 

“Oh! Iwa her throat gets tighter when you do that!” 

Ushijima Wakatoshi and Tendo Satori

Sfw

Oh bby how did you get so lucky?

You have the best of both worlds!

Tendo, who you can joke around and cook with.

And Ushijima, your pillar and voice of reason. 

This relationship was 100% started by Tendo. No question. He saw you and decided right then and there that you were his, and what kind of best friend would he be if he didn't share with Wakatoshi! 

Thank god you were willing to do this, it would have Broken Satori AND Wakatoshis heart :((

This WAS the best decision of your life. 

Your first date as a threesome was so cute, it started with walking around tokyo and you stopped and ate in a small cafe. You begged them to pay and they didn't let you so this became a game to see if you could ever find a way to pay before them.(you're still failing to this day) 

After the cafe they took you to a small beach that had a little volleyball net set up. Insert uwus here

They taught you how to play, the basics if you didn't already know, and you guys played around until it was 2am 

All of your dates are different but they either end like that or cuddling on the couch wachting movies. OR you know ;))

Nsfw

UHHH there are two ways this could go. 

You being absolutely ruined by these two. Both being pretty big, they easily overpower you. 

Tendo also has the obsession with being in your ass while ushijima rips your poor pussy apart. 

Sadist tendo also makes a slight appearance, not letting yu cum for hours then making you cum over and over and over again

Or 

Mr. Tendo controls what you and Toshi do! 

Trust me Wakatoshi is still controlling you every waking second, but having Tendo tell him what to do (being slightly unaware of what to do anyway) gets him off just as much as you. 

And when he’s feeling more adventurous, Tendo has kept you and Ushijima on literal leashes at his feet while he just chilled out. (i literally love this so much-)

You guys do a lot of exploring!

“Harder Toshi, the slut can take it”

“” we don't have enough dicks to fill all your holes” 

“Satori! Please!” “Shhh, floor whores don't get to talk” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu

My #2 pair 

DAMN, i can't even put how whipped they are for you in words. 

You defiantly knew Sakusa first. 

You two met in the supermarket, much to his displeasure he had to shop for himself, it was the classic strangers to lovers trope 

You both reached for the same countertop cleaner! 

To both of your shock you touched his hand and immediately started to apologize to him (he couldn't even reply because he was so stunned by your beauty) 

He snapped back and started to interrogate you about what cleaning products you use, you both didn't even realize how much time passed with you just talking about how you clean.

Eventually you exchanged numbers and texted almost all day.  

This led to him texting you back every chance he had during practice breaks, but he never told you he was a professional volleyball players AND happened to be on one of the top teams in the country, (you found out when he randomly followed you on instagram)

Eventually he got sloppy and Atsumu looked at his phone and found your number! Aren't you lucky ;) almost immediately after he started to question Sakusa about you

Who is she?

Where did you meet?

Is she pretty?

Gimmie her number Omi, i wanna know her too!

Eventually Atsumu just stole his phone and started to non-stop call you. 

“Uh Kiyo? This guy keeps calling me and asking me questions about you.”

“Ignore it” 

It got so bad that when you officially met atsumu he had followed Sakusa to your meeting spot, and you hit it off! (much to Kiyoomi’s disdain) 

After a few months, and a lot of talks, all three of you entered a relationship!

Your dynamic was great! You were clean like Sakusa and fun like Atsumu!

Perfect!

Another spoiling group, it's like they just know what you want. It doesn't even matter what you think :// no take backs :))

Plus you have girl time when they are at practice, a good time to plan surprises ;)

You even got Atsumu into skin and hair care (kiyoomi approves) 

You are literally perfect (and the hottest couple in the planet) 

Nsfw

Sakusa is in control.

No question.

He wants ti fuck you? Done.

He wants to watch you play with yourself. Already rubbing circles on your clit. 

He wants you to ride Atsumu until you squirt? You're bouncing on Atsumu Cumming and cumming. 

Believe it or not Sakusa AND Atsumu love messy blowjobs, seeing you slobber all over yourself and their cocks is the most beautiful thing to them. 

Atsumu also has the dirtiest most vulgar mouth on earth, will not spare your feelings one bit. 

But that doesn't even measure up to how Kiyoomi speaks to you. He has no shame is telling you that they are going to let everyone on the team fuck you senseless. 

Sakusa also loves to punish you and Atsumu for literally anything, he will tie you to each other and put vibrators in your holes and just watch you  two desperately grind on each other to get relief that just won't come. 

(they both love to ruin your orgasm too) 

“Go Whore i know you can bounce faster than that” 

“Look at her Omi! Isnt she the best little cumdump? Yes you are! Yes you are!” (pls he treats you like a pet) 

“Hey Miya. Wouldn't shugo just love to have her on her knees for him? I think we should let her sometime” 

I would do anything for these two- 

Kuroo Tetsuro and Kozume Kenma

Oh? You're the most spoiled pet in the world?

You definitely grew up together, aka you've had both of them wrapped around your finger since you were 8.

 You guys probably started dating after you accidentally let it slip that you were in love with the both of them. 

After you all confessed and talked for hours, you were officially dating!

Not much has changed, but they were more affectionate and loving and more physical with you. 

Your dates are really random, all the varying schedule and all. 

They take you to anime cafes and gaming cafes and ALL the different cafes. 

They always tell you you don't have to work but you feel bad so you started a makeup channel on youtube! And of course you were a sensation! 

You and Kenma make little collab videos and were voted as the cutest couple of the year! 

But that doesn't1 mean you aren't involved in Kuroos life just as much! 

You help him get ready every morning, he just “can't” tie his tie even after doing it since highschool. 

You make him a unique bento everyday! 

You even buy him little chemistry sets whenever you see that a new model was released!

Plus living with two cuddle bugs is a dream for any girl ;)

Nsfw 

The way that both of them are into cockwarming- 

Whenever Kenma is not streaming he wants you to sit on his cock, just be a good kitten and do it. 

No worries! Between rounds he'll start to pound you for as long as he can, but it's never enough  for you to cum :// too bad you'll just have to wait until he’s done, or when Kuroo some home. 

With Kuroo it's usually when he is doing more work in his home office. This is pure torture.

He won’t even pay attention to you until HE wants to cum. 

To add on to that neither of them are afraid of fucking you infront of people. 

Kenma has no fear of keeping you at his feet while he streams so you can suck him off whenever he wants. 

One time he was on a zoom call with his PR team and they had no idea you were deepthroating his cock under where the camera could see. 

Kuroo is the worst with this too, he’ll start fucking you when he knows he ahs a work call in a few minutes, so in the middle of fucking he’ll just answer the phone and make you shut up :((

Both of them together? You’re fucked. (literally haha) 

Kenma a bottom , 100%, just not as much as you.

Sex mostly means kuroo fucking you and sucking kenma off. 

“I wonder if everyone would still follow you if they  knew what a slut you are” 

“Kitten you have to be quiet for Daddy now, this call is important” 

“Look at that kenma, she’s cumming all over the place while drooling all over you!” 

Bokuto Kotaro and Akaashi Keji

The owl nest?  Yes Ma’am.

You were akaashis girlfriend first, but that meant you were practically dating Bokuto anyway. 

Akaashi? He loved it, you were just so cute when you tled to Kotaro! 

When he got excited, you got excited and you were just the cutest two babies in the world!

 The way you would talk for hours about nonsense and laugh about the stupidest things. 

Slowly but surely Akaashi braugh Bokuto into the relationship, and you had no objections! 

It started with small things like movie nights that turned into sleepovers that became full dates! 

Dates? Oh man you go on one almost every night! 

The movies! Bookstores! Restaurants! 

Even to the volleyball gym.

Sometimes Akaashi takes you to Bokuto’s games and you two just Cheer your lungs out!

This seems crazy but one time on your anniversary that took you to an owl farm! 

It was probably the funnest night of your life, and that was it all three of you knew that this was how you wanted to spend the rest of your lives. 

Nsfw 

Bokuto might be the driving force but Akaashi is the real mastermind behind the bedroom life. 

Sex mostly includs being railed by Bokuto for hours while Akaashi whispers sweet praises in your ears, telling you how good your gtaking Bokuto. 

Akaashi is also a firm believer in punishing people with toys,aka Bokuto getting ahead of himself and ignoring Akaashis commands which lands him tied up and a vibrator pressed to his sild until his orgass are dry :)

 Of course you are no better, cumming before your told or vene worse masterbating without permission. 

That lands you with a bunny vibrator, unable to move and just watching as Akasshi fucks Bokuto with your favorite dildo :( 

But if you'd just listen this would have never happened, just promise not to do it again! 

“Keji please, pease, wanna cum s-so bad” 

“Gee, you're just sucking him in huh? After all this time you still want more!” 

“You are just the prettiest little thing huh.” 

[realmadridfamily]

"Life is tricky baby, stay in your magic"

Influencer, architect, interior designer and occasional model for famous brands. This is how Sandra Garal defines her CV. Although she already had a good number of followers, the fact that she became a partner of footballer Marco Asensio sparked an avalanche on her Instagram account three years ago. This is where they announced their engagement and show little bits of their lives. What mantra or verse determines your attitude in life? "Life is tricky baby, stay in your magic." It reflects what I identify with. I always try to be true to myself, no matter what is happening around me. There is also another sentence with which I identify: "The one who remains calm is in control of time." I tell myself this so I don't get overwhelmed because I'm always late [laughs]. Does being a partner of such a famous footballer come with a lot of pressure? Maybe it paralyzed me a little bit at first, but I think I get used to it over time and now I think I know how to handle it. Since when do you like football? I started to understand it when I met Marco. But it was real this year, with everything we experienced in La Liga and in the Champions League, when I really started enjoying it ... and when I started to suffer! Football genius. I don't answer that because I can't be objective [Laughs]. An instant beauty trick. I believe that appearance is very important, my basic tricks always have to do with it: I have perfectly styled and brushed eyebrows and mascara on my eyelashes. A place to escape. Any place near the sea. Mallorca is usually my favorite destination. Your perfume. Neroli Outrenoir by Guerlain. A pleasure to enjoy alone. A Häagen-Dazs ice cream while I watch Netflix or HBO. The cause with which your blood boils. Misuse of news by press and fake news. What movie has marked you? It's hard to name just one, but I would choose La vida es bella, because it shows the power of love in so many ways. I love that. Your favorite book. El Secreto. Do you have any tricks to make 'going back to school' less hard? I take advantage of the summer to the fullest and that helps me to take September with great enthusiasm. Even so, I have to admit that I have another method: I take a weekend getaway in the fall to officially say goodbye to summer. What do you carry on your purse? My wallet, sunglasses, chewing gum, lip balm, some makeup, perfume, keys and phone. And what's on your bedside table? Candle and books. I love lighting scented candles before going to bed. A wish for this new course. I wish that all the bad things that we have suffered in recent years end, so that we can return to normal and that there is peace in the world.