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#fabric radiation protection
coolllb0 · 2 years
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What are the anti-radiation materials?
Metal fiber radiation -proof blended fabric: Generally, stainless steel metal fibers and cotton and polyester fibers such as stainless steel with a diameter of about 0.008 mm are used to form fabrics with a good fabric value of more than 30.
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Silver fiber radiation -proof knitted fabric: The silver fiber referred to here is not a sterling silver, but a new type of composite fiber added by silver ions and nylon. In addition to good breathability, it also has a maintenance effect on the human body. The value of the knitted fabrics of all silver fibers is more than 70. This fabric is more likely to oxidize, but oxidation does not affect the effect of radiation protection and the use of clothes.
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Silver fiber radiation -proof blended fabric: The semi-silver fiber fabric refers to the fabric made of silver fiber and polyester fiber. The value of this fabric is involved in the metal fiber and the all-silver fiber fabric. At the same time, it also has the role of maintenance
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zhuqiang · 2 years
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Do you know There is a fabric that not only allows you to wear fashion, but also protects you from electromagnetic radiation. It is metal fiber shielding fabric
Metal fiber shielding fabric is a high-tech fabric, which is made of metal fiber and other textile fibers. Metal fibers refer to metal wires or ribbons with a diameter of less than 100 microns, which can be made of different metals or alloys such as silver, copper, nickel, stainless steel, etc. They have excellent properties such as electrical conductivity, thermal conductivity, antibacterial, and corrosion resistance.
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When the electromagnetic wave meets the metal fiber, it will produce reflection and absorption, so as to achieve the protective effect. According to tests, the electromagnetic radiation weakening rate of this fabric is above 99%, which can effectively block the radiation generated by mobile phones, computers, microwave ovens and other equipment. In addition to radiation protection, this fabric also has good flexibility and breaking strength, can be cut and woven at will, and is suitable for making various clothing and accessories. Its color is also very colorful, and it can be matched with other materials to create different styles.
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If you want a garment that is both beautiful and functional, try metallic fiber shielding fabric! It will allow you to enjoy the convenience brought by technology while protecting your health and safety.
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conductivefabric5 · 3 months
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China Earthing sheet Manufacturers
Experience the benefits of Earthing with precision-crafted Earthing Sheets from Conductive-Fabric.com, proudly manufactured by leading experts in China. Our sheets are designed to bring balance and wellness by reconnecting you with the Earth's natural energy.
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banukai · 1 year
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oh my god i just spent an hour and a half writing bullshit about that post. maybe ill finish it tomorrow maybe ill just be too embarrassed to post it. uh either way getting to spend a while reading about fallout spread and acute radiation sickness was fun.
#if i dont post it my thesis is that no they wouldnt get ARS but all of the stupid baubles finn kept from that time COULD be radioactive#not fabrics...unless he doesnt wash them...#but ehhhhh its tricky#on one hand you got the dust from fallout and yeah encased in ice stuff is gonna stay pretty dirty#so anybody who got turned into the snowman's toys mightve released some cs-137 into the area AGAIN after they got thawed#and then you have the groundwater seepage. which uh. haha#theres no rivers or creeks in junktown iirc so it'd be wellwater. and it only takes a few months for that stuff to seep down#and then uh lets talk about the elephant in the room alright?#i did consider neutron activation but honestly the amount of neutrons actually released by a nuke are very small and in a short burst#most of it is soaked up by the bomb casing (which contributes to fallout when the metal gets shredded in the blast)#so really you're just looking at the water the soil and whatevers going on with the people in the ice#the 2 culprits of fallout have half-lifes of 30 years give or take#so its been like what 12 years? its still a pretty hot zone#actually wouldnt it have been like 10? since snowman was around for a year or two? does it even matter actually no not really#but uhhhh id say if FnC and Simon were to get radiation sickness it would be from that fucking soup#kicking around in the crater would probably make them throw up at least#but theyre not gonna die#and uhh . that was probably the most merciful death finn could have gotten. given that he was pretty much at ground zero#the crown probably protected him from most of it but hes literally living on that same land that used to be his parents farm#he KEPT ALL THOSE THINGS#im just mad like STOP you need to MOVE you need to GET RID OF THAT HAT you will get TUMORS#kids your mother and i love you very much which is why we are living on the superfund site i caused 12 years ago . sorry
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conductive-fabric · 1 year
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Silver Fiber vs. Nickel Copper Fabric: A Comparative Analysis of Conductive Textiles
In the world of innovative textiles, conductive fabrics have gained significant attention due to their ability to integrate electronics and enhance functionality. Among the various conductive fabrics available, silver fiber fabric and nickel-copper fabric are two popular choices. In this blog post, we will compare these two materials and explore their characteristics, applications, and benefits.
Silver fiber fabric, as the name suggests, is a textile infused with silver fibers. Silver, being an excellent conductor of electricity, imparts conductive properties to the fabric. The silver fibers are either blended with other fibers or woven into the fabric to create a conductive pathway. This unique composition allows for the efficient transmission of electrical signals and currents across the fabric surface.
On the other hand, nickel-copper fabric consists of a blend of nickel and copper fibers. Nickel provides excellent corrosion resistance and durability, while copper offers high electrical conductivity. This combination makes nickel-copper fabric an ideal choice for applications where longevity and conductivity are crucial.
When comparing these two materials, several factors come into play:
Conductivity: Both silver fiber fabric and nickel-copper fabric exhibit excellent electrical conductivity. However, silver is known for its highest electrical conductivity among all metals. This gives silver fiber fabric an edge in terms of overall performance in conducting electricity.
Durability: Nickel copper fabric is renowned for its exceptional durability and resistance to corrosion. It can withstand harsh environmental conditions, making it suitable for applications where longevity is important. Silver fiber fabric, although less durable than nickel copper fabric, still maintains good overall durability.
Cost: Silver is a precious metal, and consequently, silver fiber fabric tends to be more expensive compared to nickel-copper fabric. The cost factor is an important consideration for large-scale production and cost-sensitive applications.
Applications: Both silver fiber fabric and nickel-copper fabric find applications in various industries. Silver fiber fabric is commonly used in wearable technology, smart textiles, and electromagnetic shielding. Its high electrical conductivity and antimicrobial properties make it suitable for applications such as medical garments and electronic accessories. Nickel copper fabric is often employed in applications that require robust grounding or electromagnetic interference (EMI) shielding, such as protective clothing, aerospace, and military equipment.
One notable application worth mentioning is the grounding recovery bag, which is used for electromagnetic radiation protection during electronic device usage. This bag utilizes conductive textiles to create a Faraday cage-like enclosure, effectively blocking external electromagnetic signals. Both silver fiber fabric and nickel-copper fabric can be used for this purpose, depending on the specific requirements of the application.
In summary, silver fiber fabric and nickel copper fabric are two types of conductive textiles that offer unique advantages and applications. While silver fiber fabric boasts superior electrical conductivity, nickel-copper fabric excels in terms of durability and cost-effectiveness. The choice between these materials ultimately depends on the specific requirements of the intended application.
As technology continues to advance, conductive textiles like silver fiber fabric and nickel-copper fabric will play an increasingly significant role in enhancing the functionality and performance of various products. Whether it's wearable technology, medical garments, or electromagnetic shielding, these conductive fabrics open up a world of possibilities for innovative and integrated solutions.
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pucksandpower · 2 months
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Rock and A Hard Place
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: the aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix has your protective side clawing to the surface
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Lando trudges into his driver’s room, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. The scent of champagne clings to him, a bitter reminder of the podium celebration he’d just endured. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he closes the door behind him, shutting out the world and its expectations.
You’re already there, waiting for him. Your eyes soften as you take in his dejected posture. “Hey, champ,” you say softly, approaching him with open arms.
Lando looks up, his eyes meeting yours. There’s a storm of emotions swirling in those color changing depths — disappointment, anger, and a hint of relief at seeing you. “Some champ I am,” he mutters, but he doesn’t resist as you wrap your arms around him.
“You finished P2. That’s still amazing,” you remind him, your voice gentle but firm. Your hands move to the zipper of his race suit, slowly peeling away the champagne-soaked fabric.
Lando lets out a bitter laugh. “Second place is just the first loser, isn’t it?” He winces as he moves his arms, the physical toll of the race finally catching up with him.
You shake your head, helping him out of the suit. “That’s not true and you know it. You fought hard out there.”
“I fought, alright,” Lando agrees, his voice tinged with frustration. “Fought with the team, fought with Will, fought with Oscar ...” He trails off, shaking his head.
As you help him step out of the suit, you can feel the tension radiating off him. “Talk to me, love. What happened out there?”
Lando sinks down onto the small couch in the room, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “It was all going so well at the start. Pole position, you know? I thought ... I really thought this could be it.”
You sit beside him, your hand finding his. “And then?”
“Oscar had a better start,” Lando explains, his free hand gesticulating as he speaks. “He took the lead, and I was right behind him. We were flying, both of us. But then the team ...” He pauses, swallowing hard.
“What did the team do?” You prompt gently, your thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of his hand.
Lando’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of hurt and confusion in them. “They told me to pit before Oscar. I undercut him, took the lead. I thought ... I thought they were backing me for the win.”
You nod, encouraging him to continue. The pain in his voice is palpable, and your heart aches for him.
“But then they started pushing for a swap,” Lando continues, his voice rising slightly. “They wanted me to give the position back to Oscar. Can you believe that? After I’d fought so hard to get there?”
“That must have been so frustrating,” you say softly, squeezing his hand.
Lando nods vigorously. “It was! I mean, I get team orders, I do. But this ... it felt like they were playing with me. One minute they’re helping me get ahead, the next they want me to give it all up.”
“Did you argue with them?” You ask, though you already know the answer from the tension in his body.
“For laps,” Lando admits, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Will probably has a headache from all my yelling. But in the end ... in the end, I had to do it. Three laps from the end, I let Oscar by.”
You lean in, resting your head on his shoulder. “That must have been a really tough decision.”
Lando’s arm wraps around you, pulling you closer. “It was. I ... I know it was the right thing to do for the team. But it hurts, you know? To be so close and then ...”
“And then have it slip away,” you finish for him. “I can’t imagine how that feels.”
Lando’s quiet for a moment, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “It feels like shit, if I’m honest,” he finally says, a weak laugh escaping him.
You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “But you did it anyway. That takes a lot of strength. A lot of maturity.”
He shrugs, but you can see a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Maybe. Still doesn’t feel great, though.”
“I know,” you say, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “But I’m so proud of you. Not just for the podium, but for how you handled everything.”
Lando leans into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely,” you affirm. “You showed real team spirit out there. And let’s not forget, you started on pole. That’s incredible in itself.”
A small smile starts to form on Lando’s lips. “It was a pretty good qualifying, wasn’t it?”
You grin, nodding enthusiastically. “It was amazing. You were flying around that track like it was your personal playground.”
Lando’s smile grows, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I did feel pretty good yesterday. Like I could do no wrong.”
“Because you’re talented, Lando,” you remind him, your voice warm with affection. “So incredibly talented. One race doesn’t change that.”
He looks at you, his eyes softening. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”
You shrug, a playful smirk on your lips. “It’s a gift. Plus, I happen to be your biggest fan.”
Lando chuckles, the sound warming your heart. “My biggest fan, huh? I thought that was Zak.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Zak’s got nothing on me. I’ve got the inside scoop on Lando Norris.”
“Oh yeah?” Lando raises an eyebrow, a hint of his usual playfulness returning. “And what’s that?”
You lean in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “That he’s not just an incredible driver, but also the kindest, funniest, most amazing person I know.”
Lando’s cheeks flush slightly, but his eyes are bright as they meet yours. “You’re biased,” he accuses, but there’s no heat in his words.
“Guilty as charged,” you admit with a grin. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”
Lando’s hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs.
“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out,” you reply, leaning into his touch.
For a moment, you both sit in comfortable silence, the earlier tension gradually dissipating. Then Lando speaks again, his voice softer now. “You know, even with everything that happened ... standing on that podium, I couldn’t help but think about how far we’ve come. The team, I mean.”
You nod encouragingly. “It’s been quite a journey, hasn’t it?”
“God, yes,” Lando agrees, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “Remember when getting into Q3 was a big deal? And now we’re fighting for wins, getting double podiums ...”
“It’s incredible,” you say, your voice filled with genuine awe. “You should be so proud of the part you’ve played in that.”
Lando’s quiet for a moment, considering your words. “I am,” he finally says, a note of surprise in his voice. “I really am. It’s just ... sometimes it’s hard to see the big picture.”
You nod, understanding. “That’s why you’ve got me. To remind you of how far you’ve come when you’re too close to see it yourself.”
Lando’s arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. “What did I do to deserve you?”
You grin up at him. “You were just you. That’s more than enough.”
Lando’s eyes soften, a warmth spreading through him that has nothing to do with the room temperature. “I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “So much.”
“I love you too,” you reply, heart swelling with affection. “Forever and ever.”
As you lean in to kiss him, you can feel the last of the tension leaving Lando’s body. The disappointment of the race isn’t forgotten, but it’s faded into the background, overshadowed by the love and support between you.
When you finally pull apart, Lando’s smiling — a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. “You know,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice, “I think I might need some help getting this champagne off me. Fancy a shower?”
You laugh, standing up and offering him your hand. “Lead the way. I hear you’re pretty good at that.”
As Lando takes your hand, his earlier frustration seems a distant memory. There will be other races, other chances for victory. But right now, in this moment, he has everything he needs — the love of his life, a promising career, and the knowledge that no matter what happens on track, he always has a home to come back to in your arms.
***
The soft glow of candlelight flickers across the table, casting dancing shadows on Lando’s face as he leans in, a conspiratorial grin on his lips. “You know,” he says, his voice low and playful, “I think I might actually be hungry enough to eat everything on this menu.”
You laugh, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “Everything? Even the fish?”
Lando’s nose wrinkles, but his grin doesn’t falter. “Okay, maybe not everything. But close enough.”
The restaurant buzzes with quiet conversation around you, a contrast to the chaos of the track earlier in the day. It’s a small, intimate place, tucked away from the main streets of Budapest — a hidden gem Lando discovered during one of his previous visits to the city.
“I’m just glad we managed to sneak out without anyone recognizing us,” you say, reaching across the table to intertwine your fingers with his. “It’s nice to have you all to myself for a change.”
Lando’s thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes soft in the candlelight. “Trust me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”
As the waiter approaches with your drinks — a local craft beer for Lando and a colorful cocktail for you — Lando’s phone buzzes on the table. He glances at it, a small frown creasing his brow.
“Everything okay?” You ask, concern coloring your voice.
Lando nods, but there’s a hint of tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Yeah, just ... social media’s going a bit mad about the race. Some people aren’t too happy about how it played out.”
You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Hey, look at me. What matters is that you did what was best for the team. That takes real strength.”
Lando’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of gratitude and lingering doubt in them. “I know, I just ... sometimes I wonder if I made the right call.”
Before you can respond, a loud voice cuts through the restaurant’s gentle ambiance. “Oi! Is that Lando Norris?”
Lando stiffens, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as you both turn to see a man stumbling towards your table. The strong smell of alcohol precedes him, and his eyes are slightly unfocused as he points an accusatory finger at Lando.
“It is you!” The man slurs, swaying slightly as he reaches your table. “The guy who gave up the win. What kind of racer does that, eh?”
Lando takes a deep breath, his media training kicking in as he forces a polite smile. “I’m sorry, mate, but we’re trying to have a private dinner here. Maybe we could chat another time?”
The man ignores him, his voice rising. “Nah, I wanna talk now. You know what? None of the greats would’ve done what you did today. Senna wouldn’t have moved over. Schumacher wouldn’t have. Hell, even Hamilton wouldn’t have.”
You can see Lando’s jaw clenching, his earlier good mood evaporating. “Look, I understand you’re upset, but-”
“Upset?” The man interrupts, laughing bitterly. “I’m not upset, I’m disappointed. You had a chance to prove yourself today, and you blew it. That’s why you’ll never be a world champion.”
The words hit Lando like a physical blow. You watch as he flinches, the doubt and self-recrimination from earlier flooding back into his eyes.
That’s when something inside you snaps.
You stand up abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. The restaurant goes quiet, all eyes turning to your table.
“Excuse me,” you say, your voice calm but with an edge of steel, “but I think you need to leave. Now.”
The man turns his bleary gaze on you, a sneer twisting his features. “Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?”
You step closer, your eyes flashing with anger. “I’m someone who actually understands what happened out there today. Unlike you, who’s clearly talking out of your arse.”
Lando reaches for your hand, his voice low and urgent. “It’s okay, really. Let’s just ignore him.”
But you’re not about to let this go. Not when this drunken idiot is tearing down everything Lando’s worked so hard for.
“No, it’s not okay,” you say, loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. “This man,” you gesture to Lando, “drove an incredible race today. He started on pole, fought hard for every position, and when it came down to it, he put his team first. That takes more courage and integrity than you could ever understand.”
The drunk fan scoffs, but you’re not finished.
“You want to talk about the greats? Let’s talk about them. Senna, Schumacher, Hamilton — they all understood the importance of teamwork. They all had races where they had to make tough decisions for the good of the team. That’s part of what made them champions.”
You’re on a roll now, your voice rising with passion. “Lando didn’t give up today. He showed exactly why he’s one of the best drivers on the grid. He proved he can make the hard calls, that he understands the bigger picture. That’s what separates the good drivers from the great ones.”
The man opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “And you know what? The fact that you can’t see that says a lot more about you than it does about Lando. A true fan, a true lover of the sport, would understand the complexity of these decisions. They’d appreciate the skill and the emotional strength involved, not just blindly demand wins at any cost.”
The restaurant is dead silent now, everyone watching the confrontation unfold. Lando’s looking at you with a mixture of awe and affection, his earlier doubts forgotten in the face of your fierce defense.
The drunk fan, however, isn’t backing down. “Oh, spare me the lecture,” he sneers. “You’re just defending him because-”
You don’t let him finish. In one swift motion, you pick up your cocktail and dump it over the man’s head.
Gasps echo through the restaurant as the colorful liquid drips down the man’s face, soaking into his shirt. For a moment, he stands there in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“I think,” you say, your voice cold, “that you need to leave.”
The man splutters, wiping ineffectually at his face. “You ... you can’t ...”
“She can, and she did,” Lando says, standing up to join you. There’s a new confidence in his posture, a glint of pride in his eyes as he looks at you. “And she’s right. About everything.”
The restaurant manager appears then, flanked by two burly waiters. “Sir,” he says to the drunk fan, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We don’t tolerate harassment of our guests.”
As the man is escorted out, still muttering under his breath, the tension in the room gradually dissipates. A few nearby diners even break into applause, offering you supportive smiles.
Lando turns to you, his eyes shining with a mixture of love and admiration. “That was ... wow. Just wow.”
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, the adrenaline of the moment starting to fade. “I’m sorry if I made a scene. I just couldn’t stand hearing him talk to you like that.”
Lando shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Are you kidding? That was incredible. I’ve never had anyone defend me like that before.”
The manager approaches your table, looking apologetic. “I’m so sorry about that incident. Please, allow us to comp your meal and offer you a bottle of our finest champagne.”
Lando glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What do you say? Fancy celebrating for a change?”
You laugh, the last of the tension leaving your body. “Absolutely. Though maybe I should stick to water from now on. I seem to have misplaced my cocktail.”
As you settle back into your seats, the other diners returning to their own conversations, Lando reaches across the table to take your hand again.
“Thank you,” he says softly, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your skin. “Not just for what you said to that guy, but for believing in me. Even when I struggle to believe in myself sometimes.”
You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with affection. “Always. You’re an incredible driver. But more than that, you’re an incredible person. That’s what I love most about you.”
Lando’s eyes soften, a warmth spreading through his chest that has nothing to do with the candlelight or the promise of champagne. “I love you too. More than I can put into words.”
As the waiter arrives with a bottle of champagne and fresh glasses, you raise your glass in a toast. “To Lando Norris,” you say, your voice full of pride, “future world champion and the best teammate anyone could ask for — on and off the track.”
Lando clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “And to you,” he adds, “my fiercest defender and the love of my life.”
As you sip your champagne, the earlier incident fades into the background. What remains is the warmth of your love for each other, the pride in what you’ve accomplished together, and the excitement for all that’s still to come.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter, good food, and quiet moments of affection. By the time you leave the restaurant, hand-in-hand, the difficulties of the race day seem like a distant memory.
As you walk back to the hotel, Lando pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You know,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “I think I might need to hire you as my official defender. You’re much scarier than any PR team.”
You laugh, nudging him gently with your shoulder. “Please, as if you could afford me.”
Lando grins, his arm tightening around you. “Oh, I think I could manage. How does a lifetime contract sound? All expenses paid, of course.”
Your heart skips a beat at the implication behind his words. “A lifetime, huh? That’s a pretty long time.”
Lando stops walking, turning to face you. In the soft glow of the streetlights, his eyes are full of love and certainty. “Not nearly long enough, if you ask me.”
***
The bedside lamp casts a dim light across the hotel room. Lando’s arm is draped lazily over your waist, his breath tickling the back of your neck as you both bask in the comfortable silence. The events of the day seem far away now, eclipsed by the simple pleasure of being together.
“I think,” Lando murmurs, his voice heavy with contentment, “this might be my favorite part of race weekends.”
You turn slightly to face him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Even better than qualifying on pole?”
Lando grins, pulling you closer. “Well, maybe it’s a close second. But only because I get to do this every single night.”
You’re about to reply when Lando’s phone suddenly buzzes on the nightstand, the screen illuminating with an incoming call. Lando groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “If that’s Andrea calling to debrief again, I swear ...”
But as he reaches for the phone, his eyes widen in surprise. “That’s ... weird.”
“What is it?” You ask, curiosity piqued by his reaction.
“It’s ... it’s Seb,” Lando says, his voice a mixture of confusion and excitement. “Sebastian Vettel.”
Before you can respond, Lando fumbles with the phone, his usual dexterity deserting him in his surprise. Somehow, he manages to not only drop the phone but also lose his balance, tumbling out of the bed with a yelp.
You can’t help but laugh as Lando scrambles on the floor, trying to answer the call before it goes to voicemail. “Hello? Seb?” He says breathlessly, still tangled in the bedsheets.
“Lando?” Sebastian’s familiar voice comes through the speaker, tinged with amusement. “Are you alright? It sounded like you were wrestling a bear there for a moment.”
Lando’s face flushes as he rights himself, sitting on the edge of the bed. “No, no, I’m fine. Just, uh, dropped the phone. Bit surprised to hear from you, to be honest.”
You scoot closer, curious about this unexpected call. Sebastian rarely reached out unless he was attending a race, which had become a once-a-season occurrence since his retirement.
“I can imagine,” Sebastian chuckles. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”
“No, not at all,” Lando assures him, even as you playfully poke his side. “What’s up, Seb?”
There’s a brief pause before Sebastian speaks again, his tone becoming more serious. “I watched the race today. Quite a day you had, wasn’t it?”
Lando’s shoulders tense slightly, the memories of the race and its aftermath flooding back. “Yeah, it was ... intense.”
“I can imagine,” Sebastian says, his voice softening with understanding. “Team orders are never easy to deal with, especially when you’re fighting for the win.”
Lando nods, even though Sebastian can’t see him. “It’s just ... I don’t know. Part of me feels like I should have fought harder, you know? Maybe I gave in too easily.”
There’s a gentle sigh from Sebastian’s end. “Do you remember Multi 21?”
Lando’s brow furrows in confusion. “The incident with you and Mark Webber? At Malaysia in 2013?”
“That’s the one,” Sebastian confirms. “I was in a similar position to you today, but I made a different choice. And I want to talk to you about it, if that’s okay.”
Lando’s eyes widen, and he quickly puts the phone on speaker so you can hear too. “Of course, Seb. I’d really appreciate that.”
Sebastian’s voice fills the room, carrying the weight of experience. “Back then, I was young, hungry for success. When the team told me to hold position behind Mark, I ... well, I ignored them. I overtook him and won the race.”
“I remember watching that,” Lando says softly. “It was a big deal at the time.”
“It was,” Sebastian agrees. “And you know what? In the moment, it felt amazing. I won, I had proven I was the faster driver. But looking back now, I realize it came at a cost.”
You watch as Lando leans forward, hanging on Sebastian’s every word. “What do you mean?” He asks.
“It damaged the team’s trust in me,” Sebastian explains. “It strained my relationship with Mark, with the engineers, even with some of the fans. And more than that, it ... it wasn’t the right thing to do.”
Lando’s quiet for a moment, processing this. “But you were racing. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Fight for every position?”
Sebastian’s laugh is gentle, understanding. “That’s what I told myself at the time. But being part of a team means sometimes putting the team’s needs above your own desires. It’s a hard lesson to learn, and an even harder one to apply in the heat of the moment.”
“So you think I made the right call today?” Lando asks, a hint of hope in his voice.
“I think you showed incredible maturity and team spirit,” Sebastian says firmly. “It’s not easy to give up a potential win, especially when you’re in the position to fight for it. But by doing so, you’ve strengthened your team, shown your commitment to the bigger picture.”
You can see Lando’s shoulders relaxing as Sebastian speaks, some of the doubt from earlier melting away.
“But what about the championship?” Lando asks. “Every point counts, and I gave up quite a few today.”
Sebastian’s voice takes on a thoughtful tone. “Championships aren’t won or lost in a single race. They’re built on consistency, on the strength of the team as a whole. What you did today? That builds the kind of trust and respect within a team that can carry you through an entire season.”
Lando nods slowly, his fingers intertwining with yours as he listens. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
“Plus,” Sebastian adds, a smile evident in his voice, “there’s something to be said for karma in this sport. The goodwill you build up? It has a way of coming back around when you least expect it.”
“You really think so?” Lando asks, a hint of his usual optimism creeping back into his voice.
“I know so,” Sebastian assures him. “I’ve seen it happen time and time again. The drivers who put the team first, who understand the bigger picture? They’re the ones who end up with long, successful careers. They’re the ones who become true champions.”
You squeeze Lando’s hand, seeing the impact Sebastian’s words are having on him.
“Thanks, Seb,” Lando says, his voice thick with emotion. “I really appreciate you calling. It means a lot.”
“Anytime, Lando,” Sebastian replies warmly. “We’ve all been where you are. It’s important to support each other in this crazy world of Formula 1.”
There’s a brief pause before Sebastian speaks again, his tone lighter. “Now, I hope you’re not spending the whole night dwelling on this. You’re in Budapest, after all. Beautiful city. Plenty to celebrate.”
Lando chuckles, some of his usual cheerfulness returning. “Don’t worry, we’ve been making the most of it. Even had a bit of excitement at dinner.”
“Oh?” Sebastian’s curiosity is piqued. “Do tell.”
Lando glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s just say my girlfriend has a mean cocktail toss.”
You can’t help but laugh as Lando recounts the incident at the restaurant, Sebastian’s warm laughter joining yours through the phone.
“Sounds like you’ve found yourself a keeper there,” Sebastian says, his voice full of amusement and approval. “Don’t let that one go.”
Lando’s eyes meet yours. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to.”
As the call winds down, Sebastian’s tone becomes serious once more. “Remember, Lando. What you did today? That’s the mark of a true champion. Keep that spirit, that integrity, and you’ll go far in this sport. And in life.”
“Thanks, Seb,” Lando says softly. “Really, thank you.”
After they say their goodbyes and Lando hangs up, he sits there for a moment, still processing the conversation. You wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder.
“You okay?” You ask gently.
Lando nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I am. Actually, I’m better than okay. That was ... wow. I can’t believe Seb called just to talk about that.”
“He clearly thinks highly of you,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “And he’s right, you know. What you did today? It was pretty amazing.”
Lando turns to face you, his eyes shining with renewed confidence. “You know what? It was. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still want to win. But maybe ... maybe there’s more than one way to be a champion.”
You smile, your heart swelling with pride. “That’s my Lando.”
As you both settle back into bed, Lando pulls you close, his voice soft in the darkness. “Thank you for being here through all of this. For defending me, for supporting me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You snuggle closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “You’d probably still be on the floor after falling out of bed,” you tease gently.
Lando’s laugh rumbles through his chest. “Probably. Good thing I’ve got you to keep me grounded, then.”
***
The early morning sunlight streams through the large windows of the hotel’s breakfast area, shining over the scattered tables. The room buzzes with the quiet chatter of guests and the clink of cutlery against plates. At a corner table, a group of McLaren team members are huddled together, their conversation animated despite the early hour.
You spot them as you enter, your eyes immediately drawn to Will Joseph, Lando’s race engineer. He’s gesturing with a piece of toast, apparently deep in discussion about yesterday’s race. For a moment, you consider joining Lando for breakfast in your room, but the memory of Will’s voice over the team radio, pushing Lando to give up his position, makes you change course.
With a bright smile fixed on your face, you approach the table. “Good morning, everyone!” You say cheerfully, your voice causing the group to look up in surprise.
Will’s eyebrows raise slightly as he recognizes you. “Oh, good morning,” he replies, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “Lando not with you?”
You shake your head, your smile never wavering. “He’s still getting ready. I thought I’d come down and grab us some coffee.” Your eyes lock onto Will’s. “Mind if I borrow you for a moment? I’d love to chat about yesterday’s race.”
The other team members exchange glances, sensing the underlying tension despite your cheerful demeanor. Will hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Of course, no problem.”
As Will stands to follow you to a nearby empty table, you turn to the others. “I promise I’ll return him in one piece,” you say with a wink, eliciting nervous chuckles from the group.
Once seated at the new table, you lean forward, your elbows resting on the surface, fingers interlaced. Your smile remains, but there’s a steely glint in your eyes that makes Will shift uncomfortably in his seat.
“So, Will,” you begin, your voice light and conversational, “quite a race yesterday, wasn’t it?”
Will nods, his posture stiff. “Yes, it was. A great result for the team, all things considered.”
“Mmm, indeed,” you agree, your head tilting slightly to one side. “A double podium. That’s certainly something to celebrate.” You pause, your smile growing a fraction wider. “Of course, it could have been even better, couldn’t it?”
Will’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Well, in racing, there’s always room for improvement, but-”
“Oh, I’m not talking about the racing, Will,” you interrupt smoothly. “I’m talking about your performance.”
Confusion flickers across Will’s face. “My performance?”
You nod, your expression one of exaggerated sympathy. “Your radio communications, to be specific. You know, I couldn’t help but notice how ... persistent you were with Lando yesterday.”
Will’s shoulders tense visibly. “I was just relaying the team’s strategy-”
“Were you?” You ask, your voice dripping with false innocence. “Because from where I was standing, it sounded an awful lot like emotional manipulation.”
Will’s eyes widen, a flush creeping up his neck. “ I... that wasn’t my intention at all. I was just doing my job.”
You lean back in your chair, your smile never faltering. “Your job is to support Lando, to help him perform at his best. Not to badger him into submission when he’s fighting for a win.”
“The team decision was-” Will starts, but you cut him off again.
“The team decision is one thing, Will. How you communicate that decision is another entirely.” Your voice drops lower, the cheerfulness giving way to a steely edge. “Do you have any idea what it does to Lando when you push him like that? When you make him doubt himself in the middle of a race?”
Will shifts uncomfortably, his breakfast forgotten. “I never meant to-”
“Of course you didn’t,” you say, your smile returning full force. “Which is why we’re having this little chat. So you can make sure it never happens again.”
Will’s brow furrows. “Are you ... are you threatening me?”
You laugh, the sound light and airy, completely at odds with the intensity of your gaze. “Threatening? Oh, Will, don’t be silly. I’m just having a friendly conversation with my boyfriend’s colleague. I’m simply pointing out that if I ever hear you speaking to Lando like that again, well ...” You pause, your smile widening to show teeth. “Let’s just say I can be very creative when it comes to protecting the people I love.”
Will swallows hard, his face pale. “I ... I understand.”
You clap your hands together, the sound making Will jump slightly. “Wonderful! I’m so glad we had this chat. It’s so important for the team to be on the same page, don’t you think?”
Before Will can respond, you stand up, your cheerful demeanor back in full force. “Well, I should get back to Lando. He’ll be wondering where his coffee is. Have a great day, Will!”
As you turn to leave, you pause, looking back over your shoulder. “Oh, and Will? Remember, Lando’s not just a driver. He’s a person. A brilliant, talented person who deserves respect and support. I trust you’ll keep that in mind next time you’re on the radio with him.”
With a final, dazzling smile, you walk away, leaving a stunned Will staring after you.
As you make your way to the coffee station, you can’t help but overhear snippets of conversation from the McLaren table.
“What was that about?” One of the engineers asks Will as he returns, looking slightly shell-shocked.
Will shakes his head, reaching for his water glass with a slightly trembling hand. “Just a friendly chat,” he mutters, his voice lacking conviction.
You smile to yourself as you pour two cups of coffee, adding cream and sugar to Lando’s just the way he likes it. As you head back to your room, you can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It might have been a bit dramatic, but if it means Lando gets the support he deserves on track, it’s worth it.
When you enter the room, Lando’s just finishing getting dressed, his hair still damp from the shower. He looks up as you enter, a warm smile spreading across his face.
“There you are,” he says, crossing the room to take one of the coffee cups from you. “I was starting to think you’d got lost on the way to the breakfast buffet.”
You laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Just ran into some of the team downstairs. Thought I’d say good morning.”
Lando raises an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Oh yeah? Anyone in particular?”
You shrug, your expression innocent. “Oh, you know, just the usual suspects. Will was there.”
Lando’s eyes narrow slightly. “Will, huh? And how was that?”
“Oh, you know,” you say airily, taking a sip of your coffee. “Just a friendly chat. Nothing to worry about.”
Lando studies you for a moment, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”
You set your coffee down and wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Because you know me too well. But trust me, it’s nothing bad. I just ... may have had a little talk with Will about how he communicates with you during races.”
Lando’s eyes widen. “You didn’t ...”
“I did,” you confirm, your tone unapologetic. “Someone needed to say something. The way he was pushing you yesterday, it wasn’t right.”
For a moment, Lando looks torn between embarrassment and gratitude. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. “You really are my fiercest defender, aren’t you?”
You grin, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of his hair. “Someone’s got to look out for you out there.”
Lando shakes his head, but his eyes are soft with affection. “You know I can fight my own battles, right?”
“Of course you can,” you agree. “But that doesn’t mean you have to fight them alone. We’re a team, remember?”
Lando pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, we are. The best team.”
As you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you can’t help but feel a surge of love and protectiveness. You know Lando is more than capable of handling himself, both on and off the track. But if you can make things even a little bit easier for him, if you can ensure he gets the support and respect he deserves, then you’ll do whatever it takes.
Because at the end of the day, that’s what love is. It’s standing up for each other, supporting each other, and facing the world together — whether that world is the circuits of Formula 1 or the quiet moments in a hotel room.
And as Lando looks at you, his eyes full of love and gratitude, you know you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Because he’s worth it. He’s worth everything.
1K notes · View notes
rowarn · 10 months
Text
afab!reader, gn!reader, simons a fighter, protective!simon, blood mention, fingering, lil bit of mean!simon for flavor <3 MDNI
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simon riley is by all means a "do what you want, i can fight" kind of man. and fight he will. simon will go to the ends of the earth to protect you. and that's always been incredibly hot to you. you'd never had a man so eager to defend you.
especially to the point that simon was. more than once he'd come away from a fight with bloody knuckles and a split lip. 
that's exactly how he looked now, but he also sported a cut across his eyebrow as well. the guy he'd beaten in the alleyway looked much worse, but he got a few good hits in. 
all you knew was that he said some revolting things about you that simon happened to overhear. simon refused to tell you specifics, citing that you didn't need to hear something like that. 
you both had gone home quickly after that. but the sight of simon all beat up, knuckles split and bruised from the force he'd used to beat the man had something stirring in your stomach. butterflies. 
as you cleaned his cuts and wiped away any blood that stained his skin, you could feel the wetness growing in your panties. you clenched your thighs and shifted as that began to uncomfortably stick to your pussy. 
simon, always attentive, noticed right away. his pretty, brown eyes lit up in interest, a brow raised as he watched you shift on your feet. 
"something wrong?" he asked, as if he couldn't tell what was going on. 
"n-nothing, si," you responded sheepishly, tossing the bloody gauze into the garbage can before stepping away. 
simon doesn't let you get very far before his arms are wrapping around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. you can feel the heat radiating off of him and feel how his heart pounds on his chest against your back. craning your neck, you look up at him. 
"ain't nothin'," he says, voice low and quiet, "and i'm not lettin' you walk out of here with that pretty pussy drippin'.''
you swallow around the lump in your throat as he says it. he wraps his big hands around your waist and moves them downwards, slipping under your shirt and pawing at the hem of your sweatpants. he dips his head down so he can kiss along your neck, practically purring when you sink into him. 
he takes the opportunity to slip his fingers under your panties, thick fingers prying your pillowy lips apart. you adjust your stance, leaning back against him for support as you spread your legs a little more so he can slip his fingers further down.
first he glides over your clit, pausing to stroke and roll the tender little bud under his fingers. your whole body twitched at that, trembling hands reaching to grip onto the fabric of his hoodie. your head fell back against his chest, giving him more access to your neck. 
his fingers dip lower, finding your entrance, slick and drooling all over the digits as he strokes back and forth, teasing you with their presence. 
"tell me," his voice vibrates in his chest, deep and low, "what's got you this wet?"
"mmm, d-dunno, si," you lie right through your teeth at him. 
he hums, pulling his fingers away from your sweet little hole to go back to your clit, pinching the bud. you whimper at the feeling, hips rabbing back to get away from the little pain, "you're lyin'. i want you to tell me the truth. what has this pretty little cunt all wet?"
"simon..." you whine. he knows you don't want the embarrassment that comes from the confession but he teases it out of you anyway, "y-you got me wet, si!"
"me?" he grins, wolfish and predatory, "i didn't do anything, love,"
you whine, rocking your hips forward. he took some mercy on you and slowly sunk one, long, finger into the tight clutch of your cunt. the stretch wasn't enough, he knew that, you'd become so accustomed to the fat girth of his cock that one single finger would never be enough to satisfy you now. he'd ruined you. 
"y-you beat that-that guy up for me..." you finally manage to squeeze out of your dry throat, "'s hot..."
he scoffs as if he didn't already know that that was the reason, "you like me beatin' some bastards head in for you?" you nod, sighing in pleasure when he rewards your with a second finger, "you're fuckin' filthy. you think he'd be happy to hear that it turns you on?"
"don't care about him," you quickly answer. 
his grin broadens, "that's the right fuckin' answer, love."
he finally gives you the third and final finger. you keen when he stretches you open on those digits, curling them just right to hit that gooey, spongey little spot inside you. his palm curls around your pelvic bone so the heel of his hand grinds against your clit just how you need to cum nice and hard for him. 
he works his fingers slow and deep, making sure to hit that spot every time he stuffs his fingers back inside you. his other hand comes up, wrapping around your throat to pin your against his chest. you moan freely, clawing at his tattooed arm desperately as you rock your hips against his hand. 
he can hear the wet, slick sounds of him fucking your precious little cunt open. you work your clit feverishly against his hand, helping yourself along to the high you so deserve. you're dripping down his fingers, making a mess of him and yourself but you don't care. 
"'m gonna cum!" you needlessly warn him.
"i know," he grumbles, tilting your head up so he can press his lips against yours, hand still firmly wrapped around your throat. 
he sees your eyes roll back before you melt into the kiss, your orgasm washing over you. he groans when he feels you squeezing and clenching around his fingers, pathetically humping against his hand to work your clit even harder. he slowly strokes that spongey little spot to help ease you through your high. you tremble and clutching desperately at his arm as you start to come down, whimper and panting into his mouth before he lets you pull away. a string of spit connects your lips and you look completely dazed as you gaze up at him. 
he always did enjoy the way a good orgasm had you looking all dumb and pliant for him. 
he pulls his fingers out of your panties and you whine at the loss, watching him bring those cum-covered fingers up to your face. you could see the way the bruises and splits in his knuckles were covered in your cum and had to hold back to keep from moaning at the sight. 
he popped them into his mouth, sighing at the taste of your sweet cum on his tongue. 
before you knew it, he was breezing past you out of the bathroom and down to the living room, no doubt on the hunt for something to eat. 
"simon!" you called petulantly. 
you heard him laugh from the living room, "what?"
"you aren't gonna fuck me?" you complain, feeling heat flood your cheeks when he laughs again.
"dunno, love," his tone is teasing, "we'll see."
ugh. he could be so generous one second and mean the next </3
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mwah here is some food my beloveds
5K notes · View notes
mcuamerica · 3 months
Text
Loving Flames | Part One
Pairing: Eris x Reader
Summary: Amarantha decided to 'gift' you to Eris Vanserra to get back at Rhys. Requested by anon here.
Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, the word whore shows up a few times, (again not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...
Word Count: 4.6k
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
Dividers from @saradika
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Eris met you when you were 35, years after the war. It was at a High Lords meeting, with your father bringing you along to introduce you to the court. It snapped for Eris in that moment.
You were wearing a spectacular navy blue and silver gown, fabric attached to your shoulders to make it look like a cape. Your wings were tucked in tight behind you to keep from bumping into anyone.
He tried to speak to you that night, tell you about the bond, but his father pulled him away quickly and he didn’t see you again.
The next time he saw you, however, you were by Rhysand’s side in all black, mourning the loss of your father and your mother. And your wings. While Tamlin’s brothers didn’t kill you, they almost did. Taking time with you is what allowed you to live, unfortunately for you.
Eris tried approaching you again, needing to say at least something to you. This time, Azriel, the ever obedient guard dog, growled and told him to leave. These ceremonies were for friends only. Which the Autumn Court was not. That night, Eris gave up on the idea that you and him could be together. He decided to leave you be, and avoid you at all cost.
But then Amarantha came sweeping in. Rhysand brought you to the ball with all of the High Lords when she took their powers. As since Rhysand’s father killed Tamlin’s, she wanted to punish him more than just taking him to bed.
“Beron, which one of these is your heir?” She asked, perched atop the throne. You were standing close to Rhys, his arm around your back. Eris, even though the bond was buried deep down, could feel the nerves radiating down that bridge. You were terrified. That she was going to hurt you. Or Rhys. And what better way than letting your enemy do it or you.
“I am,” Eris spoke before his father could utter a word. His father shot him a deadly look, but Amarantha’s smile widened.
“Good. I’m gifting her to you.” She said and smirked, nodding towards you.
Your eyes widened. Rhys looked to Eris with an even deadlier look than his father, almost saying ‘if you hurt her, you will be killed slowly and I’ll enjoy it.’ Eris stepped forward, soliciting a growl to come from deep within Rhys’s throat.
“Easy, bat, I will be gentle.” He said, unable to drop the mask. He forced his hand to remain steady as he reached it out to you.
You shrunk closer to Rhysand, listening as he leaned down and whispered something not even fae eyes could detect. You looked up to Rhys with pleading eyes.
“Hurry, now, I do not have all day.” Amarantha said, staring at her nails as if she were bored.
With a final nod from Rhysand, you shakily took Eris’s hand.
He did not pull you, instead allowing you to walk with him back to where his father and brothers stood. After that that, he let go of your hand. He promised himself he would protect you, even if you all thought he was a monster. He would never harm you, and never make you do anything you didn’t want to. Not as long as he could help it. His mate. You were under his protection now, and he would be damned if he let anyone harm you ever again.
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Deciding to make you suffer even more, since you were the reason Rhysand knew about Tamlin’s brothers hurting you, Amarantha assigned you to a tiny room connected to Eris’s. It didn’t have a fireplace, and it barely fit the small bed that was in it. There was a small room filled with revealing clothing. Specially placed there so you could please Eris, according to her.
But months went by and he did not touch you. He would escort you to court dinners, offering you more food than the small portion you were allowed. You never accepted, eyes always darting for your brother to bring you some sort of comfort. But, Rhys was barely there. If he was, his eyes were cast downwards as Amarantha stroked his arm or his leg, making it clear that Rhys was her obedient dog, her whore. It made you sick to your stomach, but you knew he did it to keep your family safe. So maybe one day you could return to the sanctuary of Velaris.
You flinched slightly as Eris rested a hand on top of yours. “You need to eat, my lady,” he whispered. What seemed to be concern filled his eyes.
“So you can treat me like a pet?” You asked, swallowing your fear.
“So you can survive this.” He said. “I-“ he glanced up as Amarantha stood up to make an announcement. “I will come to your room tonight and I want you to have strength.” He said before she began to speak.
A chill ran down your spine at the thought of what you imagined on your head. You looked down to your plate, taking a small bite of the food. You were no good if you starved yourself. And if you didn’t please Eris like he wanted to, either he or Amarantha would punish you. Probably in front of your brother. Or make him do it.
Eris hummed in agreement to your action, before his attention looked towards Amarantha.
That night, you were shivering in your bedroom. The light set of pajamas doing nothing to keep you warm in the cool room, surrounded by nothing but stone. You perked your head up when the door connecting to Eris’s room opened. He normally used the main one connected to the hall, but tonight he must have wanted to be discrete. Bile rose on your throat in anticipation of what was about to happen, tears welling in your eyes as you body shook from the cold.
“I’m taking you to see your brother.” Eris said quietly. You looked at him, sitting up even more as you curled into yourself more.
“Why?” You asked
Eris’s heart broke at the sight of you, shivering from the cold and near tears from what you imagined he would do. He could be the villain in your story as long as he could keep you safe. But he needed you sane, as well. He would not let you deteriorate under this gods-forsaken mountain.
“Did you not hear Amarantha? She is sending Rhys to do scouting for the next few months. And I’d like for you to get a proper goodbye.” Eris said. “Here,” he said, pulling out the long, wool lined robe for you. “You’ll be warmer in this.” He even warmed it up with his internal heat before he came in here.
You slowly reached out, grabbing it before wrapping it around your body. He saw as you sunk into its warmth, wish that it was him you could find such comfort in.
He held out a hand and you slowly took it. “I’ll need to act like I’m taking you somewhere else, so just stay close and don’t talk.” He whispered before wrapping an arm around your waist. While you would have normally recoiled, you could only lean further into his body heat, much warmer than any you’ve know before. You assumed it was his internal flames burning under his skin, maybe causing his temperature to be much warmer than others. It must have been a nice luxury to have. Though, you were certain he had a fireplace in his room. Not that it would be hard for him to conjure flame anyway.
Eris stole glances at you, hoping that this would make you happier. You hadn’t seen Rhys, at least not at a distance where you could embrace or talk, for at least a year. But Eris knew Rhys would take your unwillingness to eat as Eris forbidding it, or some other malicious thing. Your eyes were sunken, each piece of clothing hung from your body looser as the days passed. You looked tired, exhausted, as if someone was draining the life force from you. No matter how many times Eris had asked, you were never allowed outside with him. Not even on one of the upper balconies. Your punishment for being alive while her friend was dead. It seemed Amarantha wanted to punish you more than Rhys. And Eris was just glad he could be there to protect you from most of her wrath, claiming that his gift shouldn’t be harmed. The things she threatened to do… Eris hoped she wouldn’t figure out you were his mate. Because if she did… even if her and Beron were allies, Eris didn’t think she would spare you much longer.
Eris knocked on a door, one of the shadow wraiths opening it. Your lips turned into a gentle smile as you greeted Nuala, happy to see a familiar face.
At the site of you, Nuala stepped aside. Rhys had bruises all around his neck, where he was staring at them in the mirror. You swallowed and looked up at Eris.
“Five minutes.” He said and stepped back, nodding at you to go in. You tentatively took a step inside, and once you were over the threshold, Nuala shut the door. Rhys turned, his eyes widening as he finally took account of who was in the room.
“(Y/N),” he breathed out rushing over to you. He looked you over, frowning at how poorly you looked. He cupped your cheeks and searched your eyes. Searching for the carefree little sister he knew. “Are you okay? How did you get here?” He asked.
Rhys must have put a shield around the room before Nuala opened the door, if he did not know Eris brought you here.
“I’m fine… I wanted to say goodbye. You are leaving for the outside soon.” You said, your voice quiet and weak. If Amarantha was trying to torture Rhys, she was doing a good job at it.
“Has he hurt you?” He asked.
You shook your head, wanting to say how well Eris was treating you. But the look on Rhys’s eyes told you he wouldn’t believe you. Maybe you needed to make more of an effort to be involved in this ridiculous, cruel court. But would that make you any better than Beron? Would it help you? Would it help your brother?
Rhys pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his chest, burying your head in it. “Please come back.” You whispered, holding him tighter.
“I will never leave you here.” He whispered, rubbing your back. “And I will do everything I can to get you away from him.” He said as he pulled away.
“Did Amarantha do this?” You asked as you traced the small circular bruises on his neck.
“She likes to mark her whores.”
You frowned, looking up at the cold look in his eyes. “I’m proud of you.” You whispered. “I want you to know that… you are doing what is right for our family. And I’m so proud that I can call you my brother.”
You could see the words didn’t hit like you wanted them to… and your heart sank at the thought of Rhys not thinking he was doing enough. Or that he wasn’t good enough. “I will see you soon, (Y/N).” He said, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.
You glanced at the time on the clock, then noticed Rhys had a balcony to go outside. “Fly for me, brother.” You whispered before stepping back. “I will see you soon.” You said before turning around and walking out of the room. You gave Nuala another smile before finding Eris with his back against the opposite hallway wall.
You walked up to him and took a quiet, internal breath. “I’d like new clothes.” You said to him.
His rose his eyebrows, shocked at your sudden urge to talk to him. “Excuse me?” It came out more rude than he meant it, but didn’t let that show.
“I-“ you started and then took a visible deep breath. “If I am to be your gift, I want to be presentable. I would like new clothes.” You said. You had no intention of doing anything for Eris, and the more you could avoid him, the better. But if Amarantha thought Eris favored you, maybe she would let you out. Maybe you could fool her into thinking you were enjoying it. And maybe that would be enough for her to let you leave your room by yourself.
“Okay.” Eris said.
It was your turn to be shocked. You thought you would need to convince him a lot more than that.
“Give me a list of clothes you’d like, and I’ll see what I can do.” He answered, then held out his arm. “Now come, you must be tired.” He said.
You tentatively took his arm, still slightly shocked that he didn’t dismiss you. This male that you knew to be cruel and abusive was nothing but kind, gentle, and patient with you. You started to piece together the times you interacted with him, and couldn’t think of a single time were he was mean. Maybe distant, cold, but plenty of faeries were like that. Your brother was like that a lot of the times. It was a mask to keep him safe. Maybe Eris was the same. Maybe you could trust him.
You faltered as he did not stop at your door, but kept walking a few more steps to his. You looked up at him and watched as he opened the door and lead you inside. Maybe you didn’t escape what you dreaded earlier today.
“It’s warmer in here. If you’d like, you can sleep in here. I can take your room.” He said.
You frowned. “What?”
“Every time I see you, you are freezing. And it’s because Amarantha put you in a room that is meant to be a cooler. Why it’s attached to a bedroom, I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s the proper place for the Princess of the Night Court to sleep.”
“But… won’t you get cold?” You asked, glancing to the door that connected the rooms.
“I run hot.” He said, a slight smirk coming to his lips.
“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked.
“Maybe it will be beneficial to me later on.” He said and shrugged. “But I cannot bring myself to harm you.” He said. “In anyway.”
And he showed it. From then on, you stayed in his room. Soon enough, you offered him to come to your room too. Even with the fire, you were still cold. You supposed it was the lack of food, of sunlight, of fresh air. It was not good for your body. So, you asked him to join you in the bed. Just to sleep. And he obliged, staying on his side of the bed. Until one night, where you were particularly cold after a ‘winter’ ball was thrown.
You turned over to Eris, who seemed to be asleep. You were in an oversized sweater and some loose pants. Courtesy of your wardrobe he provided for you. “Eris?” You whispered.
His head turned towards you as he opened one eye, a small smile coming to his lips.
He would act like this whenever you were alone. When no one could see you, he would show you a soft side. A side that had you wondering where all the cruel things said about him came from. This couldn’t be the same male that left your cousin for dead in the Autumn forest. He was so different than how Mor described him. If he was helping you, why wouldn’t he help her?
“Yes, princess?” He asked.
You weren’t even technically a princess, but he insisted on using the nickname. You were surprised it didn’t bother you.
“Can you… make the fire warmer? I’m cold.” You said quietly.
His eyes flickered to the burning hearth before looking back at you. “Can I try something before?” He asked.
You searched his eyes and, as usual, found no malice. Maybe a hint of mischief, if you detected it correctly. You gave him a nod, narrowing his eyes as he asked for you to turn on your side. Your back facing him.
“Do you trust me?” He asked when he noticed your hesitance. You paused at the question. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing for months. Almost a year now. Could you trust Eris? “Remember what I said? I won’t hurt you.” He said.
You slowly took a deep breath, turning your body so your back was facing him. You tensed up when you felt him shift on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling her closer to his warm body. “What- what are you doing?” You asked.
“I’m going to make you warm.” He whispered in l your ear, the breath sending a shiver down your spine. In the best way.
Suddenly, you felt his hand settling on your bicep, and your arm instantly warmed up. You relaxed into the warm, smiling to yourself.
“Is this better?” He asked, rubbing your arm up and done as he held you close.
“Much.” You answered, even leaning into his chest more.
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Eris became your anchor Under the Mountain after that. You often found yourself clutching his bicep, not wanting to be far from him. He stayed true to his word. He would not hurt you. And, apparently, he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you either. One day, you were in the throne room as the court reveled, sitting on a loveseat while you waited for Eris to bring you something to drink. One particularly drunk made stumbled his way to sit next to you and got too close for your liking. Right as he was about to wrap an arm around you, Eris hauled him out of the seat. He pushed him back and said something with a growl you couldn’t hear, and then the male was running out of the room. Not many males approached you after that.
Maybe it was because your brother was gone for so long, or maybe it was because Eris was genuine to you. Even when you were out of the room, when he wore that cool uninterested mask, he was gentle with you. His touch was never too tight or too harsh. Was never too high or too low. He made you comfortable. You were starting to like him. As a friend, at least.
For the next 40 years, you were always around him. Even when Amarantha gave you more freedom, you wanted to be near Eris. Rhys started to notice, but didn't say anything as it was only apparent for your affection to his enemy before Summer, Winter, and Day rebelled. And then Amarantha's reign became increasingly strict. With only High Lord dead, and a new one taking his place, there was more tension than ever. Especially because anyone who was caught doing anything suspicious was whipped or tortured in front of the court. Sometimes, your brother would be the one to hold their minds and do it.
However, after finding out that Autumn and Night had nothing to do with the rebellion, she decided to be nice one day and allow you to the upper levels. She gave you in particular one rule, do not go outside. You couldn't help but watch as your brother went out on one balcony. And on the other, Beron and his sons were laughing. Actually laughing. It was only one month when the High Lord of Summer was killed and a bunch of Winter children were closed. Children. And Amarantha was celebrating you all.
Eris, however, was sat across from you on the couch. He noticed the way you longed to go outside, realizing while he was allowed out to visit his court with his father, you were stuck Under the Mountain. You hadn't been outside in more than 40 years.
"You should go, celebrate." You muttered, motioning to his family. "You may not be able to leave for along time." You said, frowning as you looked to your hands.
"I'm just fine in here." Eris said, resisting the urge to lean over and grab your hand. While you never crossed a line of being intimate, or anywhere near it, you had become friendly with Eris. You were more than glad to curl into his side at night, hold his hand at the dining table, or grab his arm while you walked around the passageways.
Before you could suggest it again, one of Eris's brothers peeked his head into the room. "Eris, bring your whore in here." He said.
You internally winced at the term, and Eris glared at his brother. While many people had called you the same, Eris normally corrected them. Especially his brothers.
"She isn't my whore." He growled out. "And if you call her that one more time, Sol, and I will rip your throat out." He said. "Besides, you know she can't go outside."
"Ah, Amarantha will never know." Sol said and smirked. "We'll distract the bat, you take her out there for some alone time." He said, making his way over to the balcony where Rhys was standing. As Sol pulled him inside, you could visibly see and hear Rhys's growl. He didn't want to be here, but if he could watch you amongst the Vanserras, he would.
"Sol-" Eris called out but groaned when him and one of the other brothers pushed Rhys out to talk to Beron and the Lady of Autumn. About what, you didn't really care. You stayed in your seat, taking a deep breath.
"I could at least open the door." He said and stood up, going over to the free balcony and opening the door to let in the breeze. You stood up, standing in front of the threshold. You closed your eyes as you felt the wind on your face, even if it was light.
The smile that came to your lips took Eris's breath away. Even in this terrible place, you could still find small bits of joy.
You looked down at the gap between you and the rest of the world, Eris standing on the other side. "Thank you." You said quietly to him, holding out your hand for him to take. He squeezed your hand, fighting the urge to pull you over the threshold and into his chest. He could image your giggle and scolding before you stepped back into the room. But before he could answer you, Amarantha burst through the doors with two of her sentries.
"Seems like the little princess can't follow the rules... Ah, Eris, are you trying to disobey my command?" She asked.
Your eyes widened and you immediately dropped Eris's hand. "I didn't go outside." You said quickly.
"No, but you were about to. And Eris was going to help you." She said. Rhys and the others came in.
"Now that I ponder it, I do remember hearing about the two of you sneaking around the passage ways months ago. That wasn't to spy, was it?" She asked. "Acting as lust-crazed fools?"
You never once showed any interest in Eris like that, and yet everyone just assumed the two of you were sleeping together. Or more like Eris was fucking you as he pleased.
"Nothing to say? Too bad." She said and nodded towards the sentries, one of them grabbing you and the other grabbing Eris. Rhys lunged forward to try and protect you, but Eris's brother's grabbed him.
"Relax, bastard, no one's going to hurt the princess." Sol teased.
"What is the meaning of this, my queen?" Beron asked, the ever-loving servant. His wife next to him looked completely uninterested other than a hint of worry for her son.
"We will make sure Eris and the princess never sneak around again." She said, giving a small wave before walking out of the room.
Before you knew it, you were standing in the throne room with Eris on his knees. One of Amarantha's sentries had a whip in his hands. "This is what you get for disobeying my command. And you get to watch princess, for luring him like you did the former High Lord of Spring." She said.
You looked at Eris, then at Rhys, pleading him with your eyes to do something, anything to stop this from happening. Rhys just tilted his head and stood beside Amarantha. Of course he thought Eris tried to pull you out and he would gladly see Eris punished over you.
The sound of the whip rang out, skin ripping underneath it. Beron and his other sons stood, stoically watching the punishment.
"How many month ago was it? 5? You've been sneaking around 5 months?" She asked. You weren't even sneaking around, you were simply walking. "5 more." She said and you struggled against the sentries holding you back. "Oh and another 5 for all those months lying to me." She said.
More sounds of the whip. More skin ripping. You watched as Eris clenched his teeth, never yielding a yell or scream. Like he had endured this before. You, on the other hand, were silently crying. You desperately tried to hold back your tears, but you couldn't.
After the final sound of the whip crack rang out, Eris sagged to the floor. "And 10 more, because I don't like hurting my friends." She said.
"Stop!" You screamed, an instinctual tug at your gut telling you he would bleed out if he received any more. "I'll do anything, stop this. Eris didn't do anything wrong." You begged, the sentries yanking you back as your legs almost gave out from under you.
Rhys shot you a look that essentially told you to shut your mouth, but you didn't see it. You were staring into Amarantha's cold eyes.
"Anything?" She asked. When you let out a whimper and nodded, a side smirk came to her red lips. "What about agreeing to be locked in sweet Eris's room under I die?" She asked. "Seems like a fair trade, since you disobeyed my command of not going outside. And you can't roam the halls with him either."
You let out a gulp, hearing a small whisper from Eris telling you not to do it. "So long as you, or anyone of your behalf, hurts him again. I will stay in his room." You said.
"Unless I command you out to court, you will stay in his room. And I, nor anyone on my behalf, will not hurt him. Until I die." She said.
You stood up straighter, feeling Rhys's eyes on you. "We have a bargain." You said.
"That we do." She said as you used your magic to imprint a tattoo on your back, right where Eris's scars would be. In doing so, you did the same for Amarantha, who only smirked more. "Take him to a healer. And take her to the room." She said. You stumbled as they pushed you towards the giant doors. You watched as Eris's sagging body was hauled up by his brothers, nearly sobbing at the sight of him.
As the sentries pushed you through Eris's room's door and shut it behind you, you suddenly realized what you agreed to. You were going to be trapped in this room forever. Unless she wanted to torment you more. Or she died.
What did you just do?
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Part Two
A/N: This was so much longer than I expected and it's not even finished yet.. There will be at least another part! Hope you all enjoyed!
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chosopie · 7 months
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PART 2, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA
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RECAP: After Sukuna invades your nation and kills the man you were betrothed to, he decides to take you as his queen. You comply to his requests to keep your little brother Yuji safe.
SUMMARY: You had just been wedded to Sukuna, and now it was time for your mating ceremony.
cw: battle for dominance, oral sex (f receiving), doggy, hair pulling, riding, slight choking, breeding, reader is inspired by helen of troy
: ̗̀➛ part 1
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The ballroom in the heart of your palace remained lively with people dancing, singing, and eating heartily. Lots of women would wear outrageously flashy or expensive dresses that would, in their hopes, catch the new King’s eyes. They did not know Sukuna, for he would not even bat an eye at those kind of women. He has come so far to defeat every neighboring nation just to get to yours. He brought death and destruction with his footsteps, and let war sit on the right side of his shoulder just so he could have you in his hands, the woman kings and noblemen from every nation sought after. Your beauty was like no other in the world—so captivating that men would wage wars against each other to have your delicate hand. Your previous fiancé did just that, and quickly failed when Sukuna came lurking behind his careless back.
Tonight, you had just hosted the largest banquet anyone has ever seen. Such a lavish event is fitting for the union of the most beautiful woman in the world and the greatest conquerer man has ever seen. Sukuna patiently waited for you in his quarters, his muscular and broad body covered in a black silk robe with gold embroidery. On the other hand, your handmaidens were bathing you in soaps and fragrances that were made with the finest and rarest materials people can only dream of getting their hands on, yet here they were, being used to bathe your soft body. The girls patted you dry with a big and fluffy towel, then helped you slip onto your sheer nude lingerie that had diamonds around your chest, making your skin glisten in the warm lights. On top of that, you draped a large white silky robe over your body, the cool fabric sending a shiver down your spine.
You passed through the thin curtains and Sukuna was sat on the bed, waiting for you. He looked up, eyes immediately locked on your figure that was barely covered by your garments. He couldn’t help but envision your fully naked body, but he quickly shook those thoughts away upon realization that in a few seconds, he would be able to feast on your bare body. It would be all his.
“Come, woman,” Sukuna gestured you to move closer to him with his pointer finger.
You scoffed. “I have a name. Did you not know?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget your name after tonight,” he smirked.
“I’d like to see you try,” you slid off your robe, exposing your body that was barely covered by the lingerie. Sukuna’s eye’s wandered on your chest and down to your plump hips and thighs. You walked towards him, his eyes remained fix on your body as he watched each and every movement you made.
Sukuna looked up at you, his hands stroking your sides and tracing every curve. His touch was warm and it made you burn with excitement. This man was capable of making you feel so much. You could fear him, and at the same time lust over the fact that he could destroy anything within an arm’s length. The power in his hands made you tremble with arousal.
It made you wonder whether you were doing all this just to protect whatever remained of your nation and your baby brother or if you were just as power-hungry as the greedy conquerer beneath you.
You pushed his hands away and slowly took off your lingerie while holding eye contact with him. There was an intense warmth that radiated off his body. You lifted up your arms to cup his face and push it towards the heat of your pussy. To your surprise, he didn’t protest. Instead, he put his hands on your hips for support while he buried his face into your cunt, his hot tongue lapping at your wet folds. You legs shivered and the pacing of your breath quickened.
“Sukuna,” you moaned, and he suddenly stopped. He moved back, but his face remained close to your wetness.
“Call me Ryomen,” he lowly said, before resuming his work.
His mouth was skilled in its work. He repeatedly licked and would occasionally bite on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. It felt like electricity, the way the heat and arousal would travel up to your body with sparks. While he sucked hardly on your clit, he covered his fingers in your slick, then pushed them inside you. You gasped, your fingers tangled in his locks of hair. You moaned and writhed, pushing his head closer to you. At this point, your thighs were suffocating Ryomen, preventing him from breathing, but he didn’t care; his mind was solely focused on making you cum.
“Ryo,” you tried saying, the word smoothly rolling off your tongue. “I’m close.”
Ryomen felt his blood rushing. Most people who dared to speak of his first name would often say it with such fear for their lives, but the way your voice spoke his name made it sound so sweet like nectar was dripping from the tip of your tongue. He groaned against your pussy, the vibration making you hiss. His fingers kept thrusting and curling inside of you in such a fast pace that caught your breath. The pads of his fingers were rubbing your sweet spot while his tongue continued to play with your throbbing clit. The pleasure started to build up and you could feel it on your lower abdomen. You let out a moan before releasing yourself, your fluids coating his fingers and chin.
Your husband stood up and took his robe off, revealing his toned chest, abdomen, the big scar that ran in a straight line from his chest to stomach, and his lengthy cock. He grabbed your hand and placed it right on the scar, letting you trace it with your fingers along with the intricate muscles on his abdomen.
“See what you did? No one has ever been able to get this close to me.” He whispered.
“I know,” you smirked.
“Don’t get too cocky now, girl.” Ryomen warned.
“Me? Cocky?” He grabbed both of your arms and pushed you onto the bed. He held your arms behind your back, firmly holding them in place.
“Fuck you,” you muttered, but Ryomen didn’t hear because your face was pressed onto the sheets of your bed, muffling your voice.
“Arch your back for me,” he said into your ear, his chest pressed against your back.
Your face grew hot. Complying with his request, you arched you back and pushed yourself onto him, the wet head of his cock tapping your ass. Ryomen groaned at the sensation and slapped your ass. It didn’t hurt much, but it stung in a way that only got you more horny. He parted your legs and rubbed his dick on your folds, lubing it with your juices.
He was way too big.
This was going to be your first time and you weren’t sure if you could even take him. With his length and girth, it might end up hurting you. You propped yourself up and turned to look at him from the corner of your eye.
“It’s my first time,” you panted.
“Good,” Ryomen smiled. “Be honored. You’re my first as well. I’ll make sure you can handle it.”
That was the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile. “That’s a surprise.”
“It is the culture of my homeland.”
Ryomen tightly held onto the soft flesh your hips, slowly pushing his dick in you. He starts thrusting with only half of his dick inside, but you already felt so full. His cock is so gritty is rubs every spot in your walls. Your pussy tightly clamps onto him, making his breath quiver. “You’re so tight,” he breathed.
It takes everything in Ryomen to not just thrust into you at full speed. He had to be careful with you, but every instinct in him is telling him otherwise. The sound of your pussy squelching on his length and the way both your fluids were dripping down your labia was driving him crazy. His mind was in a frenzy and his hands grew hot as he continued to feel up your ass.
“Too much,” you whined. “You’re too big.”
“If that was the case, why is your tight greedy pussy pulling me in,” Ryomen lightly chucked as he watched your pussy swallow his dick. The whole of him now buried deep inside you, making a small bulge on your stomach. His hand reached for your hair and tugged on it so you could face him. “Look how well your pussy is taking me.”
Your eyes were watery, not a single thought present behind them. Your mind was trapped in a haze of lust. All you could feel was the big surge of pleasure that came with each thrust. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead and your back.
“Faster, Ryomen.” You dared to say.
“Finally. You can’t take that back anymore, alright?”
With no hesitation, Ryomen started thrusting into you hard and fast, causing your body to rock back and forth, your tits bouncing with you. He cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading on them like dough. You could feel his dick twitching, eager to release its seed and paint the walls of your cunt white. He started panting and groaning, the pace of his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. You could feel another orgasm following through, the tight feeling making your pussy spasm around his cock. A string of moans left your mouth as you allowed yourself to cum all over his dick, your insides tightening then letting go, milking his dick as he came with you. He looked at your shaking figure that glistened with sweat under the lights of the room. He groaned your name and laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your intoxicating scent.
The two of you stared at each other with lust-struck eyes. He was sweating and panting, his cheeks lightly tinted red. With his right hand, he grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him for a messy and passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, eagerly fighting for dominance while the mixture of your spit dribbled down your chin. He lightly squeezed your neck and you moaned into the kiss. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him on to the bed. Your hands remained on his shoulders as you got into a comfortable position to straddle him. He cocked an eyebrow at you, amusement painted his face as he watched with intent.
Lowering yourself on Ryomen, you felt his cock slowly stretch you out again, easily sliding in because of how his cum had filled your walls. You repeatedly bounced on his dick, the tip hitting your sweet spot more effectively. Both your moans filled the room’s quiet atmosphere. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as the warm and hot sensation took over your body once more, your nails digging into his skin, surely leaving marks. There it was again, his cocky smile showing on his face at the sight of you using his dick to get off. It was pathetic to see you try and dominate him in this position, but you just looked like a desperate bitch in heat. He would have never expected you to be so needy for him, after you had put so much effort to convince him with your little facade that you were so angry that he had forcefully taken you as his wife. Deep down, he knew that you had been waiting for this.
Quickly enough, your legs grew tired, but you didn’t want to stop—you were getting close again and you didn’t want to lose the momentum. He notices the way your chest heaved and how your legs trembled from exhaustion. He wraps his arms around your waist, and pushed your body onto his dick, then lifted you up again. This went on, and he was doing all the work again, moving your body up and down with ease while he thrusted into you in sync.
“What a pathetic attempt,” Ryomen laughed. You opened your mouth to say a remark, but the only thing that you could muster up were more moans.
“Did I fuck the brains out of you already? Tell me who you are.”
All you could muster up was a pathetic whine. He was right and you hated it. How could someone inexperienced make you instantly forget your own name with his cock?
“See,” Ryomen triumphantly smiled, baring his teeth. “I fucking told you.”
: ̗̀➛ part 3
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inkedells · 4 days
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dry humping w/ logan...i feel faint
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may have went a tad overboard with the fake thrusting but fuck it we ball
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
It started with a simple kiss.
He’s gentle, and it’s surprising, because there was always something about him that radiated roughness. The slow press of his lips is the exact opposite.
His hands aren’t even on you yet. One hovering hesitantly over the back of your head, the other just barely grazing the juncture of your neck and collarbone. Only once your own fingers twist into the thin fabric of his white button-up does your body pull him in like gravity.
He touches you like he needs it, selfish and eager. Coal-hot palms running up your back to hold your neck under your hair, his front flush against yours, walking you backward until you’re leaning against a wall. He pushes your legs open with his knee, just enough for the same leg to slot against you, and now you’re panting against his mouth as he messily kisses your bottom lip.
“Logan,” You whisper, but he swallows it with another devouring kiss. His hips are moving—no, bucking.
“This okay?” He asks roughly, quickly, followed by a few pecks and one long kiss.
“God, yes.”
“Come on, then. Fuck my leg.” He buries his face in your neck as you tangle your fingers in his hair, silky and cool with sweat. You happily comply with his instruction and roll your hips as unabashedly as you can manage.
He makes a quiet noise against your pulse point, and the fact that it sounds accidental only makes you wetter. He’s hard enough for you to feel him through the thick denim of his dark blue jeans. Hard enough for you to gauge how big he is, how thick he is.
The mental image of Logan’s cock is enough to embolden you. You move your hands down his back, then to his hips, then to his buckle.
He grabs your wrists and presses them against the wall beside your head, the muscles of his biceps straining against his shirt.
“Nuh-uh. I said fuck my leg. Not my dick.”
You’re not gonna argue with that, not when his voice is so low it’s rumbling, not when he’s pinning your hips against the wall with his own. You understand the appeal in what he’s asking you to do. You know he’s getting off on your desperation, your willingness to embarrass yourself however he asks you to.
But then he’s smirking so smugly you think, Hey, maybe arguing with that wouldn’t be so bad.
“Fine. Not your dick. But how about your bulge?”
Seconds later you’re on his bed, legs wrapped around his hips, hands caressing his pecs as he kisses you so dirtily you hardly know how to show half the fervor he’s offering you.
His lower half is even busier.
He’s moving against you like he’s balls deep. Grinding motions, persistent and long and hungry, then he’s pulling his hips back and shoving them forward again, rubbing his front on your clothed cunt until the next time he decides to mimic a thrust. He doesn’t care that the denim of his jeans is uncomfortable or that your shorts are too thin to protect you from the roughness. He’s too busy fantasizing about fucking you, knowing your pussy is right there, wet and tight and eager to get stuffed.
He comes in his jeans quicker than he means to. It doesn’t matter. Soon enough, he’s hard again thanks to his regeneration coupled with the arch of your body and your throaty moan when you come.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, ‘kay?”
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coolllb0 · 2 years
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Jacquard Elastic Band Offers Versatile Designs For Fashion Designers
Fashion designers often need to create intricate patterns or add a unique touch to garments. Jacquard elastic helps them do this quickly and efficiently. The elastic is strong and durable and can be used to create eye-catching and unique intricate designs. Elastic is also versatile, allowing designers to customize their designs and add a unique touch to their garments.
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zhuqiang · 2 years
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Silver fiber functional fabric, do you really understand its use?
This silver fiber functional fabric can effectively prevent the electromagnetic radiation lurking around us from harming us.
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Some people may say that there is always radiation around us, and I have not been affected by it so far, so I don’t care about its harm, but if the target of his attack is a pregnant woman or a newborn baby, it may be serious. pose a threat to their health.
Just like a comment I found in the post before me, he mentioned that WIFI screen shooting may reduce people's sleep quality. I also feel it, but although the shielding cloth can block the screen shooting from WIFI, it will also Disconnecting the WIFI signal from our mobile phone has both advantages and disadvantages. It is impossible to have a purely beneficial event in the world.
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conductivefabric5 · 3 months
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The Future of Comfort and Health: Conductive Goat Leather and Earthing Grounding Products
In the ever-evolving landscape of health and wellness, innovative materials and products are emerging that combine traditional practices with modern technology. Conductive goat leather is one such innovation, playing a significant role in the development of earthing and grounding products. These products aim to enhance overall well-being by leveraging the natural benefits of connecting with the Earth's energy. This article explores the unique properties of conductive goat leather, its applications in earthing and grounding products, and the potential health benefits it offers.
What is Conductive Goat Leather?
Conductive goat leather is a specialized type of leather that has been treated to conduct electricity. This unique property is achieved through the incorporation of conductive materials into the leather during the tanning process. The result is a durable, flexible, and conductive material that can be used in various applications, particularly in products designed for earthing and grounding.
Key Properties:
Conductivity: The primary feature of conductive goat leather is its ability to conduct electrical current. This makes it ideal for use in grounding products, as it can effectively transfer the Earth's natural electric charge to the human body.
Durability: Goat leather is known for its strength and longevity. When treated to be conductive, it retains these qualities, ensuring that products made from it are both durable and effective.
Comfort: Goat leather is soft and flexible, providing a comfortable experience for users, whether it's used in footwear, mats, or other grounding products.
Earthing and Grounding Products
Earthing, also known as grounding, refers to the practice of connecting with the Earth's surface electrons by being in direct contact with the ground. This can be achieved by walking barefoot on natural surfaces or using specially designed products that facilitate this connection. Earthing products made from conductive goat leather are gaining popularity due to their effectiveness and comfort.
Types of Earthing Grounding Products:
Grounding Mats and Pads: These are designed to be placed on the floor or bed, allowing users to connect with the Earth's energy while sitting or sleeping. Conductive goat leather mats provide a comfortable surface that efficiently conducts the Earth's charge.
Footwear: Shoes and sandals made from conductive goat leather can be worn to maintain grounding while walking on various surfaces, especially those that are not naturally conductive, like asphalt or concrete.
Wearable Accessories: Wristbands, ankle bands, and other accessories made from conductive goat leather can be worn throughout the day, providing continuous grounding benefits.
Benefits of Earthing
The concept of earthing is based on the idea that direct contact with the Earth's surface can help neutralize free radicals in the body, reduce inflammation, and improve overall health. While scientific research on earthing is still evolving, several potential benefits have been identified:
Reduced Inflammation: Earthing may help reduce inflammation in the body, which is linked to a variety of chronic conditions and overall well-being.
Improved Sleep: Some studies suggest that grounding can improve sleep quality by normalizing cortisol levels and enhancing the body's natural circadian rhythms.
Enhanced Mood and Energy: Regular grounding practices are believed to help reduce stress, enhance mood, and increase energy levels by balancing the body's natural electric charge.
Accelerated Healing: Grounding may promote faster healing by reducing inflammation and improving blood flow.
Conclusion
Conductive goat leather represents a significant advancement in the development of earthing and grounding products, offering a blend of traditional craftsmanship and modern technology. By providing a comfortable, durable, and effective means of connecting with the Earth's energy, products made from this innovative material can enhance well-being and promote a healthier lifestyle. As more people seek natural and holistic approaches to health, the demand for conductive goat leather products is likely to grow, making it an exciting area of innovation and exploration.
For more information on conductive goat leather and earthing grounding products, visit www.conductive-fabric.com. Discover how these innovative materials can transform your approach to health and wellness.
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conductive-fabric · 1 year
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How Conductive Fabric Grounding Mats for Sleeping Provide EMF Protection & Boost Your Health?
Have you ever heard of a grounding mat for sleeping? These mats are becoming increasingly popular due to their ability to provide EMF protection and boost your health. Grounding mats are made of conductive fabric, which helps to ground your body to the earth's natural electrical field.
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EMF (electromagnetic field) radiation is all around us, and it can come from sources such as electronic devices, Wi-Fi signals, and power lines. This type of radiation can cause various health issues, including headaches, fatigue, and even cancer. Grounding mats for sleeping are designed to protect you from this harmful radiation by providing a safe and natural way to ground your body.
The conductive fabric used in grounding mats is made of a special blend of materials that allow it to conduct electricity. When you sleep on a grounding mat, your body is able to absorb the earth's natural electrical field, which helps to neutralize the EMF radiation that surrounds you. It can help to reduce the negative effects of EMF radiation on your health.
In addition to providing EMF protection, grounding mats for sleeping have been shown to provide various health benefits. Research has shown that grounding can help to reduce inflammation, improve circulation, and even improve sleep quality. When your body is grounded, it is able to release excess energy and toxins, which can help to promote overall health and wellness.
If you are interested in trying a grounding mat for sleeping, it is necessary to choose a mat that is made from high-quality, EMF protection fabric. Look for mats that are made from conductive materials such as silver, copper, or carbon, & that are designed to be used on top of your regular mattress.
In conclusion, grounding mat for sleeping are an effective way to protect yourself from EMF radiation and boost your health. By using a mat made of conductive fabric, you can ground your body to the earth's natural electrical field, which can help to reduce inflammation, improve circulation, and promote overall wellness. So why not give it a try and see how a grounding mat can benefit you?
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pucksandpower · 29 days
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A Little Arson as a Treat
Logan Sargeant x protective!Reader
Summary: after news that Williams has dropped Logan mid-way through the season comes out, you decide that revenge is best served hot
Warnings: they literally set James Vowles’ house on fire
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“You think they’ll be able to tell it was us?”
Logan’s voice is shaky, his eyes locked on the flickering flames dancing up the side of James Vowles’ house. The orange glow reflects in his wide eyes, making him look like a boy who just realized he’s in way over his head. His hands are buried deep in his jacket pockets, and you can see the nervous twitch of his fingers beneath the fabric.
You snort, not taking your eyes off the fire. “No way. They’ll think it was an electrical fault or something. We were careful.”
“We weren’t that careful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, biting his lip. “This is ... this is insane.”
“Maybe,” you admit, leaning a little closer to him, feeling the coolness of the night brushing against your skin in contrast to the heat radiating from the fire. “But what were we supposed to do? Just sit back and let them throw you out? Nine races left, and they think they can just-”
Logan cuts you off, his voice tight with emotion. “It’s not just the races. It’s everything. It’s like ... they’re saying I’m not good enough, that I never was.”
You turn to face him, your heart squeezing in your chest. He’s not looking at you, his eyes fixed on the fire like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “Logan, that’s bullshit, and you know it. You are good enough. They’re just too blind to see it.”
“Am I, though?” He finally meets your gaze, and you can see the doubt etched into every line of his face. “I mean, if I was, they wouldn’t be dropping me, right?”
You sigh, frustration bubbling up inside you. “This isn’t about your talent. This is about politics, money, and a bunch of old men who can’t see past their spreadsheets. You know that.”
He’s silent for a moment, just watching the flames as they start to consume the upper floor. “So, we burn down his house?”
You shrug, a small, defiant smile playing on your lips. “Sometimes you’ve got to make a statement.”
Logan shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. “You’re insane.”
“You love me for it.”
His eyes soften, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Yeah. I do.”
You reach out, taking his hand in yours. His fingers are cold, trembling slightly as they curl around yours. “We’re gonna get through this, okay? You’re not done. Not even close.”
“Tell that to the team that just replaced me with a kid from F2,” he mutters, but there’s less bite in his words now, more weariness than anger.
“They’ll regret it,” you say firmly. “They’ll be watching from the back of the grid while you’re out there somewhere proving them wrong.”
“And if I don’t?” His voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him.
“You will.”
He looks at you like he’s trying to absorb your confidence, to borrow just a little of the fire that keeps you burning so brightly. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know you,” you say simply, squeezing his hand. “And I know that you’re going to fight like hell to get back on the track. And when you do, they’ll all see what they lost.”
Logan takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
“Only because I’m right.”
He laughs again, a real laugh this time, and it warms you more than the fire ever could. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Unbelievable enough to commit a little arson as a treat?” You tease, nudging him lightly.
His smile fades a little, and he looks back at the house, the flames now licking at the roof. “You really think we’re going to get away with this?”
You tilt your head, considering. “Even if we don’t, what are they going to do? Kick you off the team you’re already off of? We’ve got nothing to lose.”
“I’ve got you to lose,” he says softly, his grip on your hand tightening.
Your heart skips a beat, and you swallow hard. “You won’t lose me. Ever.”
He turns to you fully now, the fire forgotten, his eyes searching yours. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
For a moment, the world shrinks down to just the two of you, standing together in the night, hands clasped, hearts beating in time. The fire is a distant roar in the background, a symbol of the chaos that’s been following you both for weeks, but it’s nothing compared to the storm inside Logan, the one you’re trying so hard to calm.
“So,” he says, his voice a little lighter, “what’s the plan? We just walk away?”
“Pretty much,” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”
He hesitates, glancing back at the house one last time. “No ... I guess that’s all we can do.”
“Good. Because I’m starving, and I’m thinking burgers.”
Logan blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Burgers? We just committed a felony, and you want to go get burgers?”
“Don’t you?”
He stares at you, then shakes his head with a disbelieving grin. “You’re insane.”
“I’m hungry. Big difference.”
Logan chuckles, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he lets out a long breath. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, squeezing your hand again. “I really do.”
You smile, pulling him away from the sight of the burning house, guiding him down the street like it’s just any other night and you’re just two people out for a walk. “Come on, there’s a place a few blocks over that makes the best burgers.”
Logan falls into step beside you, the smell of smoke fading as you put more distance between yourselves and the scene of the crime. “I’m still on a diet plan, you know. Think they’ll have something that fits?”
“Probably not,” you admit with a grin. “But I’m sure we can figure it out.”
He laughs again, a sound that makes your heart swell. “You’re seriously insane.”
“Maybe. But you love me for it.”
He shakes his head, his smile softening into something more tender. “Yeah. I do.”
As you walk together, hand in hand, you can feel the weight lifting off Logan’s shoulders. It’s not gone entirely — it won’t be, not for a long time — but for now, in this moment, it’s lighter. And that’s enough.
“So, what do we do after the burgers?” He asks, his voice casual but laced with something deeper, something that says he’s already thinking about the future, about what comes next.
“After the burgers,” you repeat, pretending to think it over. “We find a way to get you back on that track.”
Logan glances at you, surprised. “You’re not giving up, are you?”
“Never,” you say firmly. “This is just the beginning. We’re going to prove them wrong.”
He’s silent for a moment, then nods. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
“First, we get you back in a car. Then, we show them what they’re missing.”
“And how do we do that?”
You smile, squeezing his hand. “One step at a time. We’ll figure it out.”
He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize this moment, to hold onto it for as long as he can. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t be stupid. You deserve everything.”
He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in it, like he’s not quite sure he believes you. “I just ... I don’t want to let you down.”
“You won’t,” you say, your voice soft but certain. “You never have.”
Logan doesn’t respond, just pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk. The night is quiet now, the fire just a faint glow in the distance, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s a sense of peace between you.
“Burgers sound good,” he says after a while, his voice warm and content.
“Yeah?” You ask, looking up at him.
“Yeah. And then maybe we can figure out that plan of yours.”
You grin. “Deal.”
As you walk, the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, together against the odds, against the world. And in that moment, you know that no matter what happens next, you’ll face it together.
The fire is behind you, but the real battle is just beginning. And as long as you have each other, you know you can win.
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vanteguccir · 1 month
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── ୨୧ ! PERIOD DISTURB
spencer reid x reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N's cramps decide to appear during the night, forcing her to go to the pharmacy to buy medicine; or not, that's Spencer's duty.
WARNING: Period cramps, extremely fluff.
REQUESTED?: No.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
A/N²: First time finally posting for Spencer. Had that idea during the night while being almost killed by my period 🙏🏻😭
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
The room was quiet and dark, bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon filtering through the curtains. Y/N lay in bed, cocooned under the covers, her body curled in on itself as a dull, persistent pain radiated through her abdomen. Her breathing was shallow, each exhale a quiet, measured release that belied the turmoil of discomfort brewing inside her.
Spencer's arm was draped protectively over her, his body warm and solid against her back, his slow, rhythmic breathing, the only sound in the room. Despite his reassuring presence, Y/N couldn't shake the pain that twisted her insides like a vise, each cramp rolling over her in relentless waves.
She shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would offer some relief, but the movement only seemed to intensify the discomfort. Y/N bit down on her lower lip, stifling a groan that threatened to slip past. The last thing she wanted was to wake Spencer. He had only returned home a few hours ago, exhausted from a grueling case that had kept him away for days. He needed the rest, and she couldn't bear the thought of disturbing his well-deserved sleep.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes softening as they landed on his peaceful, sleeping form. His face was relaxed, free of the lines of worry and stress that so often creased his brow. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, and he looked so serene, so utterly at peace, that Y/N felt a pang of guilt for even considering waking him.
Carefully, she began to extricate herself from his embrace, inch by inch, her movements slow and deliberate. She held her breath, pausing each time Spencer stirred slightly, her eyes fixed on his face, waiting for any sign that he was waking up. When his breathing remained steady, she continued, finally slipping free from the warmth of his body.
The room was cooler outside the cocoon of blankets, and a shiver ran through her as her feet touched the cold floor. Y/N pressed a hand to her abdomen, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain that followed. She needed to get to the pharmacy to pick up some painkillers that would help dull the ache enough for her to get some rest.
She moved quietly across the room, gathering a pair of sweatpants and an old sweater from Spencer from their shared closet. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the sweater over her head, the fabric catching on her hair. She grimaced, tugging it down and slipping her feet into her sneakers, each movement sending a jolt of pain through her abdomen.
Y/N made her way to the door, pausing to glance back at Spencer, still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. She felt a pang of affection mixed with guilt, knowing she should have taken care of this sooner, knowing that she should have restocked her medicine cabinet days ago. But life had been busy, and she had been distracted. Now, she was paying the price.
Just as her hand reached for the doorknob, Spencer’s voice, thick with sleep, cut through the silence like a knife.
"Y/N?" He mumbled, his voice groggy and confused. "Where are you going?"
Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. She turned to find Spencer propping himself up on one elbow, his eyes still heavy with sleep, blinking at her in the dim light. His brow was furrowed, concern already etching lines into his features as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
"Hi baby... I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you." She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just going to run to the pharmacy real quick. I’ll be back before you know it."
Spencer’s puppy eyes widened slightly, the fog of sleep clearing as worry took its place.
"The pharmacy?" He repeated, his voice hoarse. "What’s going on? Why do you need to go to the pharmacy at this hour?"
Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She hated making him worry and hated seeing the lines of concern deepen on his face. But she also knew there was no use in hiding the truth. Spencer was too perceptive for that.
"I’m having really bad cramps." She admitted, her voice laced with a hint of the pain she was trying to suppress. "I ran out of painkillers, and I just need to get some so I can sleep."
Spencer’s expression shifted immediately, his concern morphing into something more protective, more determined. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself upright.
"What? Honey, you’re not going anywhere." He said firmly, his voice still thick with sleep but gaining strength. He stood up, his tall frame looming over her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Not in this pain, and not in the middle of the night. You should be lying down, resting, not wandering around, looking for medicine."
Y/N blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by the force of his response.
"Spencer, it’s really okay." She began, trying to sound reassuring. "I can handle it. I didn’t want to wake you because you need your rest. I’ll just go quickly and-"
"No." Spencer interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. He crossed the room in a few strides, his hands coming to rest gently on her shoulders, guiding her away from the door. "You shouldn’t have to handle this alone, and you definitely shouldn’t be out there at this time of night, especially when you’re in pain." His hands slid up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks. "I’m going to go get what you need, okay? You stay here and rest."
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the concern that softened his features, the gentle resolve that made her heart ache with love.
"Spence, I don’t want to be a burden." She said quietly, her voice wavering. "You’ve been working so hard, and I just didn’t want to trouble you."
Spencer’s expression softened even more, a small, affectionate smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You could never be a burden, love." He said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. "Taking care of you isn’t trouble. It’s what I want to do. Please, let me do this for you."
Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, the warmth of his words seeping into her and mixing with her period emotions, soothing more than just the physical pain. She nodded slowly, unable to find the words to express what she was feeling. Spencer’s smile widened, relief washing over his features. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back.
"Okay." He said, his voice gentle. "Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to lie back down, and I’m going to heat up your hot water bottle. Then I’ll run to the pharmacy, and when I get back, I’ll make you some tea. Deal?"
Y/N couldn’t help the small, grateful smile that spread across her face.
"Deal." She agreed softly. She allowed Spencer to guide her back to the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped her settle under the covers.
He moved to the closet, pulling out the hot water bottle they kept for days like this, his movements efficient and practiced. As he moved, Y/N watched him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. Even in the early hours of the morning, groggy with sleep, he was focused, his only concern making sure she was comfortable.
When he returned from the kitchen, he carefully placed the bottle over her abdomen, the soothing heat immediately offering some relief. Y/N sighed softly, closing her eyes as the warmth seeped into her muscles, easing the tension that had been building for hours.
Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on the warmth provived, his eyes studying her face for any signs of discomfort.
"Better?" He asked quietly, his voice gentle.
Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.
"Much better." She murmured, reaching out to take his hand. "Thank you, Spence."
Spencer smiled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"Don’t thank me yet." He said softly. "I’ll be back in a bit. Just rest, okay?" He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her plump lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.
Y/N watched as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and headed for the bedroom door, casting one last glance at her before he disappeared into the hallway.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N lay back against the pillows, a sense of calm washing over her. The pain was still there, a dull ache beneath the warmth of the bottle, but Spencer’s presence, his care, had made it more bearable. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax, knowing that he would be back soon.
It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, and Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to see Spencer stepping back into the room, a small bag in his hand. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace, his eyes softening as they met hers.
"Hi, sweetheart. I’m back." He whispered, his voice a soothing balm. He set the bag on the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of painkillers and a bottle of water.
Spencer moved with the gentle precision of someone who knew every corner of the room, even in the dim light. He popped open the bottle of painkillers and shook two tablets into his hand. His gaze never left Y/N's face, his eyes filled with concern and care. He handed her the pills, then uncapped the water, holding it steady as she sat up slightly to take a sip.
Y/N swallowed the pills, her throat dry despite the water. Spencer's hand lingered on hers, his touch warm and reassuring. She gave him a grateful smile, feeling the tension in her muscles ease under his touch. He set the water bottle back on the nightstand and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The gesture was so tender, so full of love, that it made Y/N’s heart ache in the best possible way.
"Thank you, Spence." She murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."
Spencer’s eyes softened, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek.
"You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I just want to make sure you’re okay." He leaned back, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting on her arm. "I’m sorry you’re in pain. I wish I could do more to help."
Y/N shook her head, her eyes shining.
"You being here helps more than you know. Just having you with me makes everything better." She reached up, her fingers grazing the stubble on his jaw, her touch gentle. "I’m so lucky to have you."
Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers. He took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.
"I’m the lucky one." He whispered, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me, Y/N. Taking care of you isn’t a burden. It’s a privilege."
Y/N smiled softly, pulling Spencer down beside her, needing to feel his warmth, to be close to him. He settled against her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. Y/N rested her head on his chest, her ear over his heart, listening to the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. His other hand found its way to her hair, his fingers running through the strands in a soothing, repetitive motion.
They lay like that for a while, the quiet of the night wrapping around them like a blanket. The pain in Y/N’s abdomen was still there, but it felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth and safety of Spencer’s embrace. She closed her eyes, her body relaxing against his, her breathing slowing to match his. With every beat of his heart, with every gentle stroke of his hand, she felt herself drifting closer to sleep, the pain dulling under the weight of his love.
Spencer held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head, his eyes closed. He listened to her breathing, felt the rise and fall of her chest against his, and felt a sense of peace settle over him. It was moments like this, quiet and intimate, that he cherished the most. Knowing that he could be there for her, that he could offer her comfort, made him feel whole.
After a while, Y/N’s breathing deepened, the tension in her body easing as sleep claimed her. Spencer continued to hold her, his hand never stopping its gentle movement through her hair. He pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, his heart full.
"I love you." He whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "More than life ifself."
Y/N stirred slightly, a soft, sleepy murmur escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake. Spencer smiled, his heart swelling with affection. He knew that she probably didn’t hear him, but that was okay. He would have plenty of opportunities to tell her again and again.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, the digital numbers glowing softly in the dark. It was well past two in the morning, but Spencer didn’t care. He could stay like this forever, with Y/N in his arms, the world outside forgotten.
Spencer lay there, his thoughts drifting, his hand continuing its gentle motion through Y/N’s hair. He knew that the painkillers would kick in soon, that she would wake up feeling better. And when she did, he would be there, ready to make her breakfast, to share a quiet morning together before the rest of the world intruded.
As the minutes ticked by, Spencer’s own eyes grew heavy, the events of the day catching up to him. But he fought against the pull of sleep, wanting to stay awake, to be there for Y/N if she needed him. He tightened his hold on her slightly, his hand slipping from her hair to rest against her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing.
Eventually, his own exhaustion won out, and he drifted into a light sleep, his body still curled protectively around Y/N. Even in sleep, his mind stayed attuned to her, his senses alert for any sign of distress. But there was none. The painkillers had done their job, and Y/N slept soundly, her body relaxed and at ease.
The night passed quietly, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the steady ticking of the clock, the occasional rustle of the sheets as one of them shifted. The world outside remained silent, the streets empty, the city asleep. Inside their little haven, time seemed to stand still, wrapped in the cocoon of their love.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
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