#he wanted it to play out but then he starts

[razor0-0]

I love this so much you don't even know

inspired by the ‘your afternoon was already ruined’ post

Death Star Stormtroopers: “Freeze!”

Han: (panicking, trying to come up with a lie): Woah there don’t shoot, uh, you can’t shoot us because—because this guy is Darth Vader’s son! You don’t want to be responsible for shooting Darth Vader’s own flesh and bone do you?”

Luke: *glares incredulously*

Stormtroopers: “That is the dumbest thing—”

Leia: (done at this point, absolutely done with this rescue, better than Han at lying) “Exactly! Why would we tell you something so phenomenally insane if it weren’t true! Why do you think Darth Vader is so obsessed with finding Rebels, huh? Call him he’ll tell you!”

Luke: (also done, much better than Han at lying): “Or you could just shoot us; I’m sure my father, Darth Vader, inventor of the lightsaber, would be thrilled to meet the men who killed his son and his son’s friends.” *waves lightsaber arrogantly*

Stormtrooper 1: “Maybe we should call this in. I mean—he’s got a lightsaber, so that’s—that’s Vader stuff anyway.”

Stormtrooper 2: “are you kidding me right now?”

Leia: *shoots them while they’re distracted*

Han: “…We’re friends?”

//

Tarkin: “The rebels said what? You incompetent fool, how could you buy such an absurd stalling—”

Vader: “My…son…”

Tarkin:

Tarkin: Oh fuck THIS.

[itaipava]

— f1 boys falling asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

trying to sleep at an ungodly hour after returning home from a night out; still feeling giddy from the rush and excitement of the night as you both get ready for bed. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder as you brush your teeth, almost falling asleep right there. after you’re done, you crawl into bed together, saying “goodnight” for the thousandth time, but neither of you closing your eyes as you gaze happily at each other with soft giggles and bright smiles amidst yawns. sleepy and a little tipsy, but too in love with the moment and each other to want to fall asleep, but inevitably doing so with happy sighs as he pulls you closer to him, with his face in your neck and intertwining your legs.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

he always says he wants to do a lot of things with you when he gets home to make up for the time he was gone, but as soon as you settle in to watch that new movie you were looking forward to watch, he falls asleep. you look at him and smile, gently placing his head on your lap. you stroke his hair as he sleeps peacefully. but he ends up waking up in the middle of the movie, and starts asking questions like "what happened to him?" while lazily pointing at the character and, as soon as you finish talking, he dozes off again, even though he promised himself that he would stay awake.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

you woke up early, but you didn't want to disturb his sleep, so you tried to get out of bed as quietly as possible. you sat up and stretched, but before you could actually get up, you felt his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. you smiled, and tried to tell him that you needed to get up, but he was too busy using your lap as a pillow to even hear you.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he had been trying to sleep alone for a long time, but he couldn't even with the gentle sound of the rain outside. you open the bedroom door and he smiles when he sees you; he lifts the blanket next to him, a silent invitation for you to go lie down with him. you smile and lie down, silently he pulls you to him, holding you lovingly. you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes, enjoying your affection and the warmth of your body. and when you least expect it, he is in a deep sleep while holding you.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

you were lying together on the couch in the living room, savoring the warmth and the cool breezes that came in through the sunny window; you admired how the sunlight fell beautifully on each other's features as he held you close to him. there was soft music playing in the background as you hummed along to the melody or said things like "oh, i love this song!" which always made him smile. wordless but meaningful looks of "i love you" to each other. suddenly he stopped running his fingertips over your body and, looking at his face, you saw that he fell asleep holding you, feeling safer than ever.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

you and him love to talk before bed; it’s an unspoken routine in your relationship. you talk about your days, your thoughts, your worries, about that squirrel you saw on the street, anything and everything; your voices only slightly above whisper, trying not to disturb the quietness of the night but failing to do so when laughter comes over you both. he hugged your waist and put his face in your neck while you spoke, but at a certain point you felt his heavy breathing and, when you looked at him, you saw him sleeping. you smiled affectionately and gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth, which made him pull you even closer to him.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

after he takes you to a great restaurant in the city, you arrive home and rest on the couch while talking about anything that comes to mind. he sighs deeply, and puts his head on your shoulder, looking at his face, you notice how sleepy he is when the food coma kicks in. you smile, and pull him closer to you, and that's when he settles down next to you on the couch, holding you tightly against him as he lets sleep take over.

˒ ⌕ FRANCO COLAPINTO

he comes home absolutely exhausted after a long training session. after a hot shower, he lies on top of you, hugs your waist and puts his face in your neck, feeling your warmth and your scent. at that moment, he feels like he is in heaven. you gently stroke his back while asking him how his day was, but he is so tired that he just mumbles something softly and falls asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

you woke up earlier than usual, and you couldn’t fall asleep again but you didn’t want to leave his side; quiet moments with him are so rare, so you wanted to make the most of them. he also wakes up, but only to pull you towards him even more, using you as a pillow. you smile and stroke his hair, which makes him sigh and fall asleep again, without a care in the world.

[cutielando]

my baby | l.n.

synopsis: in which you bring your son to his daddy’s first ever race

a/n: based on this request!! i changed things up a little and only made it fluffy, hope you like it!!

my masterlist

Ever since your son was born, you and Lando had had multiple talks regarding exposing him to the world and bringing him to the paddock.

He was still so little, being only a few months old, so there was a lot of discussion between the two of you about when would be a good time to finally introduce your son to that part of Lando’s life.

You debated a lot about firstly which race would be the best one for him to attend, finally settling on Silverstone. It was a very special race for the both of you, it was Lando’s favorite race weekend, his whole family would be coming and would be able to eagerly help, should any situations arise during the weekend, you were close to your UK home.

It was honestly the best decision in that aspect.

McLaren had been so kind as to send you some little T-shirts with Lando’s name and number on the back, some headphones so you could protect Noah’s ears. He was all ready to go, all clad in his papaya shirt and little cap.

However, as much as Lando had been looking forward to finally having the both of you in the paddock since Noah’s birth, he was suddenly feeling more anxious as you’re about to leave the house and go to the track.

You noticed the frown he had on his face and how deep in thought he seemed to be, walking over to him with Noah right on your hip, sucking on his pacifier in silence.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” you asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it affectionately.

“You agree this is a good idea, right? We’re not rushing him into this, it’s completely okay and safe to bring him with us” he asked, looking at you with worried eyes.

Looking at him so desperate for reassurance, you remember your first days as a new mom, worrying about every single thing that Noah would do, what you should do with him and what you shouldn’t, calling your mother and Lando’s mother every half an hour with another question.

It’s normal for new parents to be anxious, and Lando was now feeling the protectiveness that came with having a baby of your own and bringing him out into the world.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this. We have it all figured out. Your family is going to be there if anything does happen, we have your whole team there who are more than eager to help with anything. We’ll be fine, this little guy will have the time of his life” you said, smiling at the quiet boy in your arms and bouncing him in your arms, chuckling alongside Noah as he started to giggle and wave his arms in the air.

Lando smiled, looking at Noah like he was the center of his universe, like nothing could ever measure up to how much love he had for his son.

He was ready, so there was no reason why Lando shouldn’t be ready. After all, he had you by his side.

He didn’t need anything else if he had you.

“Alright, let’s get going then” he declared, sitting up and taking Noah’s bag from you, determined to carry everything to the car by himself.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you adjusted little Noah on your hip.

“Let’s go and bring daddy some good luck, shall we?” you cooed at Noah, admiring his little smile and clap when he heard the word “daddy” in a sentence.

Such a daddy’s boy.

♡♡♡♡♡

“Do you want me to turn the car around and just take you guys home? I’m sure nobody would mind” Lando said as soon as he parked the car in his designated spot.

You looked at him confused.

“Why? Did something happen?” you asked, keeping an eye on Noah who was currently too busy playing with his feet to pay attention to the two of you.

Lando sighed, resting his head against the seat and closing his eyes.

“I just think we’re rushing into it. He’s still young and I’m worried that something could happen to him while I’m in the car” he confessed, and you let out a knowing sigh.

“I know you’re stressed out and worried, but you have nothing to worry about. I’m going to be with him the entire time and your entire family is going to be with me. He literally can’t be more taken care of” you said, joking a little at the end to help him breathe a little.

Lando smiled, chuckling a little before twisting around to look at you in the backseat.

His eyes naturally gravitated towards Noah, who was happily playing with his McLaren teddy bear the team had gifted Lando when Noah was born.

“Sometimes I wish we could keep him away from all of this for the rest of his life” he said, his eyes focused on his son.

"I know, but right now, you don't have to worry about him. You know I won't let him out of my sight" you said, making Lando smile at the thought of you going all mama bear on your son.

"Alright then, off we go" Lando unbuckled his seatbelt, exiting the car and opening your door for you.

He made quick work to grab the diaper bag and all of his essentials while you lifted Noah up from his car seat and settled him on your hip, cooing at the smiley little boy.

"Ready?" Lando asked as he came to stand next to you, putting his arm on the small of your back and leaning down to press a kiss on Noah's head.

"Are you ready to see dada race?" you cooed at Noah, tickling his tummy lightly, which prompted him to burst into giggles.

“My lucky charms” Lando whispered, looking at the two of you with so much love.

He truly couldn’t have asked for anything better in his life. The trophies, the wins, the losses, they didn’t compare to this. To you, to your son, nothing could ever compete with how much Lando cared for his family.

As you started walking towards the paddock entrance, your passes clutched in Lando’s hand, you kept Noah close to you, trying to shield his face from the cameras as best as you could.

You softly maneuvered his head so his face was buried into the crook of your neck, which Noah immediately complied with because he loved it when you held him close.

“I’ll do my best to hold them off” Lando whispered as he scanned your passes and already noticed the hoard of paparazzis that were waiting for him to arrive.

You nodded, smiling politely at the cameramen as Lando quickly walked with you towards the McLaren hospitality.

Clicks and flashes could be heard all around you, every single one trying to get a glimpse of your baby boy, but Lando was having none of it.

“Lando! Over here!”

“Is that your son?”

“Can we see him? Just a picture”

Every single word fell on deaf ears as Lando continued to lead the three of you away from them, thankful when the shouts ceased and there was nobody around you anymore.

“They sure know how to try and get what they want” you said, letting out a big breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding in.

“It’s an invasion of privacy, they should have some respect, especially when they can see I’m with my family” he grumbled, his jaw muscles clenched.

You slowed down your walk until you came to a halt, resting your hand against his cheek.

“Hey, we’re okay. Calm down, we’re both fine, okay?” you said, waiting for an answer as Noah started squirming in your arms.

“Yeah, I’m good” Lando replied after finally feeling himself calm down a tad, resuming your walk towards the hospitality.

When you arrived and entered the building, the first thing that you saw was Lando’s family eagerly chatting amongst themselves, clearly waiting for the 3 of you to finally arrive.

You didn’t even get to think about anything before Noah was taken from your arms by Lando’s sister, Flo, cooing at him and beaming at the smiley boy.

There was nothing more pure and warming than seeing the bond between Lando’s family and your son. He was also the first grandchild on your side of the family, so that little boy was as spoiled as one could be.

“How are you doing, dear?” Cisca snapped you out of your thoughts as she came to stand next to you, Lando having gone to his driver’s room to unpack his things.

“I’m okay, a little tired from the jet-lag, but doing alright. A little nervous to have Noah here with me, but you all being here puts mine and Lando’s mind more at ease” you said, giving your mother-in-law a side hug.

“Was he terrible when you were talking about coming with Noah?” she asked, smiling knowingly.

You laughed, shaking your head affectionately at how well she knew Lando.

“He freaked out about 4 times before we even got out of the car” you said, making the woman laugh.

Lando emerged into the room again, immediately frowning once he saw that Noah was still not back in your arms.

Both you and Cisca watched as his eyes searched the entire room for him, finally settling on the boy happily babbling to his auntie Flo, Lando immediately going over to them.

And as you all sat there with each other, both you and Lando realized what a great support system you had and what a perfect family you have built together.

His win, of course, only solidifying his saying that you were both “his lucky charms”.

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[tinythebunni]

rafe had his eyes on you for a while. you were new to the island and everyone wanted to be by you. you seemed to have this energy that attracted everyone, like a fucking magnet.

rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. you were everything he could want in a girl. tall, slim, curvy, shiny skin, beautiful hair, and most of all you were so feminine. he loved a girl he could take care of, provide for even.

he first saw you at the country club. you were clad in skimpy pink bikini with white polka dots, a white bow in the side of your hair, and white flats on. you read some magazine he couldn’t be bothered to even pay attention to. for right now, you were his main object of his attention. you could feel his eyes on you, you usually did.

you’d been here only two weeks and you knew all about the infamous rafe cameron. there were rumors he killed some cop and he had a drug problem.

people said he was one of the most fun people in the world but he would blow up in the quarter of a second. no girl could hold him down and he always got what he wanted. everyone wanted to be him or fuck him.

he’d made slight advances in the short amount of time you’ve been in the outer banks. holding a door open for you, paying for your drink, offering to apply your sunscreen while you tanned at the beach, the whole shabang.

you didn’t give him the slightest ounce of your attention. you wanted him to work for it. obviously you wanted him but you can’t let him know that! if rafe always got what he wanted then he wouldn’t mind a challenge.

you liked this game of cat and mouse you guys played. you didn’t know how much longer you could take it though. your friend daphne had invited you to some kook party at her stupid chad bfs house.

you went of course because rafe would be there. and you wanted him to see you, especially in this outfit. a lacy pink halter neck and pink mini skirt with ties on the sides. it showed just enough of skin to make him crazy. you wanted him to know what he was missing out on.

who knows? maybe tonight you’ll let him have a taste.

after a while of being at the party you started to get a bit bored. there were people making out in the corners, the alcohol tasted shit, and rafe still wasn’t here.

you were slightly buzzed and contemplating walking out when you saw him. he wore only a white wife beater and some denim jeans. what really caught your attention was the way his eyes were immediately on you when he came in.

he looked you over, greeting a few people, but not once did his eyes stray off you.

“top, i gotta go handle something. i’ll catch ya later.” and with that he strides over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a room upstairs.

you had butterflies in your stomach. after a month he couldn’t take it anymore. you were excited to see what he would do now.

he swiftly locked the door and turned towards you with an almost primal look in his eyes. you giggle as he rubs the back of his neck and glares.

“do you think this shit is fuckin funny? been wanting you for months and you think it’s game. do you know how hard you make me? those skimpy fucking skirts and that coy smile.“

you were positive you looked like a fish out of water right now. you could feel a heat rising in your belly and a blush flushing your checks and neck.

“i didn’t know i affected you that much” you whispered.

“bullshit. i see you close your thighs each time i fucking look at you. can barely focus on anything when you’re near by.”

rafe is stalking towards you now, and you back up more and more until your knees finally hit the bed. he pushes you back until your lying on your back, with only your elbows and forearms holding you up.

he pulls your skirt over your tummy, glancing up at you as he places a kiss on your thigh.

“tell me this is okay. i needa know what you taste like. i can’t fucking stand it. so close to your pussy i can practically feel you on my tongue already.”

you give a shaky nod but that’s not enough.

he pinches the inside of your thigh and shakes his head with disapproval.

“no. baby i need words. use your voice, ain’t even touched you yet so i know you’re not fucked out already.”

“yes, yes rafe this is okay! please i need it” you whine while your lips pout slightly.

he was being so mean right now! is this what it felt like for him all this time?

he places a kiss on your clit over your panties and thumbs at your entrance. he smoothes your arousal over your lips and curses under his breath.

rafe takes his time making you whimper and whine. you push your hips up for some kind of friction, something more than he’s giving you. he uses his left hand to hold you down while his right pushes down on your clit, the pressure making your eyes roll back.

“calm down sweet thing. s’okay. m jus getting you ready. been dreaming bout this and i wanna take my time”

the cameron boy takes off your underwear and pauses. you can’t tell if he’s in awe or disgusted.

“so fucking pretty baby. is this all for me?” he questions as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“rafe of course it is, do you see anybody else in this fucking room?” you’re mad now, you’re so fucking horny and he’s being a tease!

“alright alright” he laughs, placing a kiss to your thigh and looking up at you one last time.

“not letting you go after this is done. you’re mine.”

[chosok-amo]

FOREVER, OURS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

& sum. the night before, you and your boyfriends talking about having kids. for them, having a child in these moments wasn’t the right decision, especially with them too busy with missions and averything, and the next morning, you just happened to be pregnant.

warning. established relationship au, fluff, bit angst, baby-trap, very-very suggestive start.

[☆] MASTERLIST

the soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you relaxed in your shared bedroom with geto and gojo. the air was filled with a peaceful quiet, the kind that comes from being completely comfortable in each other’s presence.

geto was beside you, his attention absorbed in a book, the pages softly turning as he read. gojo was lying on the other side, his phone held loosely in his hand, occasionally tapping on the screen with a faint smirk.

you had your own book in hand, but you found yourself distracted. the comforting presence of your two boyfriends made it hard to focus. you glanced up from your page, watching geto's brow furrow slightly in concentration, then shifted your gaze to gojo, who was chuckling softly at something on his phone.

a contented sigh escaped your lips as you nestled deeper into the pillows, feeling the warmth and love that filled the room. there was no need for words; just being together like this was enough.

geto noticed your relaxed demeanor and couldn’t help but smile. he closed his book and gently placed it on the bedside table, shifting his attention towards you.

“you’re awfully quiet tonight,” he remarked, his voice soft and gentle. gojo, sensing the change in atmosphere, put aside his phone, and turned his gaze towards you. a mischievous look danced in his eyes, his smirk widening into a sly grin.

“are you enjoying the view or lost in thought?” gojo teased, his head tilted to the side as he studied your expression. geto chuckled, unable to hide the affectionate look in his eyes. “knowing you, you’re probably multitasking, thinking and ogling us at the same time.”

you glanced up at geto, offering him a small smile in response to his soft observation, then returned to your book without saying a word. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk; you were simply content, basking in the quiet comfort of their presence.

gojo, however, wasn’t going to let you off so easily. he leaned in closer, the corners of his mouth lifting as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “not even a little kiss for us tonight?” he teased, his voice dripping with playfulness.

you scrunched your nose, pretending to ignore him, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the pages in front of you. but the faint twitch of a smile gave you away.

gojo chuckled, his smirk turning into a cocky grin as he saw through your little act. “oh, you’re playing hard to get tonight, are you?” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

geto chuckled at your stubbornness. he knew you well, and he could tell that you were struggling to maintain your aloof act. he shifted closer, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, giving it an affectionate squeeze. he, who had been watching with silent amusement, spoke up, “leave her be, satoru.”

but gojo pretended not to hear him, instead inching closer to you. “come on, just a tiny little kiss...” he practically begged, exaggerating his plea as he inched closer.

you barely had a moment to react before gojo snatched the book from your hands, his grin widening as he held it just out of your reach. “enough reading for tonight,” he declared smugly, setting the book aside on the nightstand. “it’s time you give us some attention.”

you shot him a mock glare, but couldn’t help the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. gojo's antics were relentless, and he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“oh, so now you’re deciding my bedtime routine?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

gojo gave a dramatic sigh, as if the very idea of you resisting was unheard of. “exactly,” he quipped, his tone dripping with playful authority. “i mean, you can’t really blame us for wanting your undivided attention.”

geto, still chuckling at gojo's antics, slipped his arm around you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back. “don’t mind him,” he murmured softly, his eyes warm. “but... i have to admit, he’s right.” his voice softened, and his gaze met yours, a gentle, coaxing look that made your resolve waver.

you rolled your eyes, feeling your heart flutter at their combined attention. “fine, fine,” you conceded with a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated, even though you secretly loved every second of it. “but you two better make it worth my time.”

gojo and geto shared a grin, pleased at your pretend reluctance to give them attention.

“oh, don’t worry,” gojo said with a mock seriousness, “we’ll make sure you’re well entertained... or should we say, ‘well-distracted’?” he winked at you.

geto chuckled, his hand still tracing gentle circles on your back. “what kind of entertainment do you prefer, my dear?” he asked, his voice low and sultry. “something more... physical, perhaps?”

gojo, unable to wait any longer, leaned closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. his voice was a whisper, but the heat behind his words was clear. “i vote for physical.”

geto, sensing the tension, shifted his body closer to you, his chest now pressed against your back. his hand, which had been tracing gentle circles, now moved to your hip, his fingers gripping subtly. “i second that vote,” he murmured, his mouth now close to your neck.

a soft hum escaped your lips, the warmth of their proximity sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. you let out a quiet chuckle, savoring the anticipation in the air as their teasing words lingered. without another word, you slowly shifted, turning onto your back, so you could face them both. their gazes met yours—gojo’s eyes glinting with playful mischief and geto’s with a steady, affectionate warmth.

with a smirk, you leaned in just enough for your breath to brush against their skin, whispering, “i vote for the physical.”

gojo’s smirk grew impossibly wider, his eyes lighting up with a delighted spark as he chuckled softly. “finally, a unanimous vote.” his fingers found yours, intertwining as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion.

geto, not one to be outdone, leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of your jaw, his hand resting comfortably on your waist. “looks like we’re all in agreement,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a gentle, comforting hum that only made your heart beat faster.

you sighed, content and caught between them, feeling completely wrapped up in their warmth and attention.

gojo, ever the impatient one, wasted no time. he moved closer, his free hand slipping under your shirt, his fingers tracing lazy lines against your stomach. the touch was light, a mere preview of things to come.

geto, the more patient of the two, continued to pepper soft kisses along your jaw, his fingers tracing light patterns on your hip. gojo, leaning even closer, his breath hot on your skin, whispered in your ear, “just say the word, and we’ll show you some real ‘physical entertainment.’”

geto chuckled, his lips against your jaw now moving down to your neck. he left a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses, his hand on your waist pulling you closer to him. “we aim to please, y’know,” he added, his voice a hot breath against your skin.

your hand slipped up to cup gojo’s face, your fingers brushing softly along his hair as you guided his gaze to meet yours. the playful glint in his eyes softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of something more intense as he held your gaze.

“kiss me,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, each word laced with anticipation.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with a mix of eagerness and possessiveness. without a moment's hesitation, he moved in, closing the small gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss.

his hand slid from your stomach to the small of your back, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet loving. gojo’s other hand cradled your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

as gojo poured his passion into the kiss, geto's hands wandered, sliding from your hip to your thighs, slowly moving up and under your shirt, his fingers lightly tracing against your skin. his head dipped, his mouth now on your neck, his kisses gradually becoming more heated as he began to leave a trail of soft hickies.

as gojo’s kisses trailed down to your jaw, then to the other side of your neck, his lips leaving a blazing path, a breathless moan slipped from your lips. your hands tangled in both their hair, grounding yourself in the heat of their touches. you felt the slow brush of geto’s fingers sliding up your thighs, his touch gentle yet purposeful, as his mouth continued to leave a trail of soft marks on your skin.

but as your gaze drifted up, your eyes landed on the ceiling—and there, among the glowing stars you’d carefully arranged, you noticed a few missing. a pout formed on your lips, and you sighed out, “aww… some of the stars are gone.”

as soon as the disappointed sigh left your lips, both gojo and geto let out exasperated groans against your neck, their frustration almost in perfect sync. you felt their warm breaths against your skin, both of them pausing their affections as they processed yet another one of your “star interruptions.”

gojo leaned back slightly, his forehead pressing to yours, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “really? again with the stars?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the situation. “we’re in the middle of something here, you know…”

geto sighed, though there was a fond smile on his face as he tilted his head to look up at the ceiling with you. his hand stayed firm on your waist, grounding you as he shook his head softly. “one day, we’re going to get through a night without you being distracted by constellations,” he teased, though his tone was warm and affectionate.

they both knew this wasn’t the first—or even the fifth—time you’d interrupted a heated moment with a sudden focus on the stars. it had practically become a ritual at this point. and although it was frustrating, the way you’d get so wrapped up in something as simple as the glowing shapes overhead was something they couldn’t help but adore about you.

you scrunched up your nose, pouting slightly as you looked at both of them. “i just don’t like missing stars,” you mumbled, sounding adorably stubborn, your eyes flicking up to the ceiling before back to their amused faces.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing look, sighing in unison before both of them turned onto their backs, settling beside you but still keeping close. geto’s hand remained gently on your waist, his thumb tracing idle circles, while gojo let out a playful scoff, his arm resting just behind your head.

“only you would care this much about glow-in-the-dark stickers,” gojo chuckled, shaking his head with a smirk, though his tone was filled with affection.

geto couldn’t help but laugh softly, his fingers still tracing the same idle circles on your waist. “you really have a thing for those stars, huh?” he teased, his fond smile mirroring gojo’s.

gojo chimed in, propping himself up on his elbow to hover over you slightly. “you’d think they were real, the way you’re so fixated on them.” his smirk widened as he teased, his tone still playful. despite their slight teasing, both gojo and geto made no move to resume the heated moment from before. instead, they settled comfortably on either side of you.

you tilted your head to look up at gojo, rolling your eyes with a playful scoff. “i’m not stupid, satoru,” you huffed, crossing your arms with an exaggerated pout. “of course i don’t think they’re real stars.”

gojo grinned wider, clearly enjoying your reaction, while geto chuckled softly beside you, his fingers still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. “could’ve fooled us,” gojo teased, arching a brow as he settled back down beside you, still grinning like he’d won something.

you nudged his shoulder lightly, shooting him a mock glare. “just because i like them doesn’t mean i think they’re real.” your voice softened as you added, “they just… make me happy, okay?”

the playful grins on gojo’s and geto’s faces softened slightly at your admission. they both knew how much those stars meant to you, even if they didn’t fully understand your fixation.

gojo’s hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together in a gentle squeeze. “ah, so it’s an emotional attachment,” he teased, his tone more teasing than mocking.

geto, still tracing his thumb over your waist, chuckled and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your shoulder. “adorable as it is, it sure kills the mood…”

you rolled your eyes at their teasing, glancing back up at the stars with a faint smile. “it’s not an emotional attachment,” you insisted, though the truth lingered just beneath your words. your gaze softened as you fell silent, memories from childhood drifting through your mind.

a quiet moment passed, the playful mood shifting as you thought back to simpler days. you remembered how, as a kid, you’d admired the glowing stars on the ceilings of friends’ bedrooms—their dads hanging them up like tiny constellations just for them. in a way, those stars had always felt like a small, unreachable piece of normal life, something untouched by the rules and expectations of growing up in a sorcerer family.

you hesitated, then finally let out a soft sigh. “when i was a kid, i used to see them in my friends’ rooms,” you murmured, your voice just above a whisper. “i always wanted some for myself, but… well, my family wasn’t really the type to hang glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.”

both gojo and geto listened in silence, their teasing remarks forgotten as they noticed the shift in your mood from playful to nostalgic.

gojo’s grip tightened around your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles in a soft, reassuring gesture, while geto’s touch on your waist moved to gently rub small circles on your back, trying to offer a small comfort.

they exchanged a glance over your head, silently communicating, before focusing their attention back on you. gojo remained silent for a moment, waiting for you to continue, while geto let out a soft, encouraging hum.

gojo leaned in close, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his voice a gentle murmur against your skin. “first thing tomorrow, we’re getting as many as you want,” he promised, his usual playful tone softened with sincerity. “we’ll cover the whole ceiling—no, the whole house if you want.” he smiled, his eyes glinting with a determination to make up for what you’d missed.

he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze filled with a mix of affection and resolve. “you’re gonna have the brightest ceiling in the world, and every time you look up, you’ll see all the stars you want, made just for you.”

you turned your head to the side, meeting gojo’s gaze with a soft smile. there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart swell, and you could feel the sincerity in every word he had just spoken. without another thought, you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his.

“thank you, satoru,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. the words were simple, but they carried so much emotion, a quiet gratitude for his understanding and the gentle way he was willing to make up for what you’d missed.

gojo’s smile softened at your words, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and tenderness. he knew how much those stars meant to you, and he was determined to make up for lost time. “don’t worry, my love,” he whispered, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “you’ll have a whole sky full of stars, just as you always wanted.”

geto, still tucked close beside you, listened in silence. his hand continued tracing soothing circles on your back, his touch gentle and comforting. he remained quiet, letting gojo take the lead.

you looked between them, a playful glint in your eyes as you couldn’t resist teasing. “you know,” you said with a smirk, “you two are going to be the best fathers.”

a moment of stunned silence followed your words. both gojo and geto were caught completely off guard, their jaws hanging open in surprise.

gojo recovered first, his stunned expression morphing into a mix of surprise and pride. a wide, almost giddy grin spread across his face. “fathers, huh?” he echoed, a hint of wonder in his voice.

geto chuckled, his hand on your back stilling for a moment before resuming its gentle circles. he shook his head, a softer smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he teased gently.

you chuckled softly, the warmth of the moment making you a little bolder. “do you two think we’d actually start a family someday?” you asked, the question slipping out without much thought as your gaze drifted back up to the ceiling.

you didn’t notice how your words seemed to hang in the air, nor did you catch the unreadable expressions that briefly crossed their faces. gojo’s grin faded slightly, replaced by something unreadable, a flicker of deep thought behind his usually carefree eyes. geto’s hand on your back stilled again, his gaze turning contemplative as he glanced at gojo, a silent understanding passing between them.

as you looked up at the ceiling, blissfully unaware of the deeper meanings your words had unintentionally stirred, gojo and geto were quietly reflecting on your casual question. the air seemed to shift subtly with a hint of weight.

gojo’s grin disappeared, replaced by a soft, pensive expression. he averted his gaze, his eyes wandering to the ceiling to avoid your gaze. geto, on the other hand, was silently looking at gojo, his own thoughts mirroring the same contemplative expression.

the room was silent for a moment, broken only by the sound of your slightly heavy breaths. both gojo and geto remained thoughtfully quiet, their gazes trained on the ceiling.

finally, gojo broke the silence, his voice barely above a murmur. “it’s… an interesting thought, isn’t it?” he began, his tone casual, but his eyes betraying a hint of seriousness. geto kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his fingers resuming their gentle circles on your back. he hummed softly, a non-committal noise of agreement.

you turned your head slightly, gaze drifting to gojo’s face. he wore that familiar, unreadable expression—one that masked so much, but over the years, you’d learned to pick up on the faint traces of emotion he sometimes couldn’t fully hide. his eyes, usually so full of mischief or confidence, held a hint of something softer now, a depth he rarely let show.

after a moment, you let out a quiet “yeah,” a gentle agreement that felt like it carried the weight of a promise, even if unspoken. returning your gaze to the ceiling, you traced the shapes of the stars you’d carefully arranged above, feeling the warmth of their presence around you. it was comforting to imagine a future like this—a family, a home filled with stars, laughter, and quiet moments like these.

gojo glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he noticed the shift in your expression. he knew you well enough to recognize that gleam in your eyes—the one that hinted at a distant hope and longing. the corners of his mouth twitched into a small, almost secretive smile.

geto, too, observed the silent exchange, his own heart swelling with a mixture of tenderness and melancholy. he knew the ache for such a future all too well. gojo’s voice broke the silence again, gently drawing your focus back to the conversation. “you’d actually want that, huh?”

your voice was barely above a whisper as you replied, “i don’t want it if you don’t.” you kept your gaze on the ceiling, the faint glow of the stars casting soft shadows across the room, but you didn’t need to look to feel the subtle shift in their emotions. it was as if they both tensed, caught between the vulnerability of the moment and their instinct to shield you from it.

you could feel gojo’s hand go still, his thumb frozen mid-stroke against your knuckles. his usual confidence seemed to waver, a quiet uncertainty flickering beneath his calm exterior. meanwhile, geto’s fingers on your back faltered, his touch gentle, yet hesitant—as if he, too, was processing emotions he wasn’t ready to voice.

you waited, the silence stretching between the three of you. it felt like they were trying to redirect, maybe even shift the conversation toward something safer. but you stayed quiet, not wanting to push, but hoping they’d know that whatever path they chose, you’d walk it together, even if it means there is will be no family.

the room fell into a silence thick with emotion. gojo and geto struggled to maintain their usual composure, their thoughts and feelings clearly shaken by your response.

gojo’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his gaze shifting from the ceiling to your face. he wanted to reply, to say something, but the words seemed to elude him. finally, geto broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “it’s not that we don’t want it, love,” he began, his fingers resuming their gentle circles on your back.

both gojo and geto were grappling with a mixture of emotions, their responses a delicate balance between honesty and the need to protect you. they both knew that bringing a child into this world, as powerful sorcerers, came with a whole new set of challenges and dangers, and the thought of putting a child through that was a heavy burden to bear.

“it’s just… complicated, “ gojo admitted, his voice low and heavy. “we would give anything to watch you become a mother, to see you care for and nurture a little bundle of joy, but...”

his voice trailed off, his gaze wandering to the ceiling once more. geto continued for him, his tone gentle yet tinged with sadness. “it’s not a simple world, love. we’re constantly facing threats and dangers most people can’t even imagine. bringing a child into that world... it would mean putting that child at risk.”

their words settled over you like a weight, pressing down on your chest. you didn’t respond immediately, simply letting their voices fade into the quiet of the room. you’d known this reality, had seen firsthand the constant battles and dangers they faced as sorcerers. but hearing it laid out like this—so openly, so vulnerably—made it all feel painfully real.

as you kept your gaze fixed on the glowing stars above, a dull ache bloomed in your heart, a quiet longing mixed with acceptance. part of you had always dreamed of that future, of a family, of a little one with their combined stubbornness, strength, and warmth. yet, you knew the truth: the life you shared with them was far from ordinary, far from safe.

the silence stretched, each of you lost in your own thoughts, until finally, you whispered, barely audible, “i know...”

your words hung in the air, soft and wistful. you didn’t need them to make any promises or change their minds—you just wanted them to know that the thought of a future, even a fragile one, was something you held onto, even if it was just a dream.

the silence that followed your soft, wistful admission was heavy with unspoken emotions. gojo and geto both stared upwards, their eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if searching for the right words to say.

after a moment, gojo’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb tracing circles on your knuckles in a silent, comforting gesture. geto, still tracing those same circles on your back, let out a deep sigh, his heart heavy with a mixture of love and sorrow.

and then, in a hushed voice, geto spoke up, his words careful. “it’s not that we’re ruling it out entirely,” he continued, his voice low. “but it’s not a decision we should make lightly, knowing the risks involved.”

gojo nodded, his gaze shifting to you, his eyes slightly widened as he searched for the right words to comfort you. “it’s not like we don’t want it, love,” he repeated, his tone sincere. “we just… we want to give you everything you deserve, including a safe and normal life.”

there was another pause as the weight of their words sunk in. both gojo and geto were silently contemplating this complex, uncharted territory, struggling to find a way to express their emotions and fears.

then, gojo finally spoke up, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. “you know we both love you more than anything,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “we just want to make sure you’re happy, and that any child we bring into this world is safe. that’s our main priority.”

“we’re not saying no forever,” geto added, his voice softer now. “just… not right now.” he paused for a moment, his hand pausing its soothing motion on your back as he chose his words carefully.

“we’d want nothing more than to see you as a mother, but the life we lead… it’s not an easy one. and bringing a child into this world would be a responsibility we’d take seriously.”

the room fell into a heavy silence as your heart felt the weight of their words, the ache in your chest growing stronger with each passing moment. you didn’t say anything, your eyes still trained on the ceiling, though your thoughts swirled in a mix of disappointment, longing, and acceptance. it was hard to put into words the sudden heartbreak that came with realizing a dream might never be realized, at least not the way you had imagined.

geto noticed the subtle shift in your expression, the way your body seemed to fold in on itself, a sign that you were retreating into your own thoughts, maybe even into yourself. his heart tugged at the sight of you in such a quiet, vulnerable state. he could see the storm behind your eyes, the words you weren’t saying but felt deep inside.

sighing softly, he leaned in, his voice tender as he whispered, “come here.”

he slid his arm under your head, gently pulling you closer until your body melted into his. you didn’t resist, turning to lay on your side and burying your face in his chest. the warmth of his embrace surrounded you like a quiet sanctuary, the steady rise and fall of his chest offering a moment of comfort.

your arm instinctively wrapped around his waist, the action grounding you, as you sought solace in his familiar presence.

as you buried your face in geto’s chest, gojo let out a soft sigh, watching the exchange silently. his expression was a mixture of understanding and sadness. he knew your dreams, your hopes and longings, and seeing you so silently devastated was more painful than he could’ve imagined.

slowly, he moved closer, his body molding against your back as he wrapped his arms around you both, enveloping you in a protective embrace. his breaths were slow and steady, his chin resting softly on your shoulder.

the three of you lay there in a tangle of limbs and emotions, each of you lost in your own thoughts. the room remained quiet, the only sound being the soft inhale and exhale of breaths.

after several moments, gojo broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know it’s not what you wanted to hear, love.” geto’s arm tightened around you, his hand continuing to gently brush against your back, offering silent reassurance. he remained quiet, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, leaving it to gojo to continue.

gojo sighed, his breath caressing your skin as he spoke. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice laced with guilt and regret. “i wish it could be different. we all do. but…”

he broke off, clearly struggling to find the right words, his hands clenching slightly around the fabric of your clothes. “we just want the best for you,” he murmured after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. “and as much as we want to give you anything you desire, we can’t risk putting you in harm’s way.”

the room remained still, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing, as you lay between gojo and geto. the weight of the conversation still lingered in the air, but the tension seemed to ease as time passed. their presence, their warmth, was a comforting reminder that, in this moment, you didn’t have to carry the burden alone.

gojo had shifted slightly, his hand now resting on your back, fingers gently stroking the skin beneath your shirt. geto’s grip was steady around your waist, his presence solid and unwavering. both of them didn’t say anything further, allowing you to sink into the quiet comfort of their touch, not rushing you to speak or to feel anything you weren’t ready to.

the air was thick with unsaid words, but in that stillness, something comforting bloomed. the kind of quiet that spoke volumes in its own way. your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion from the emotional weight of the conversation finally taking its toll. your breath deepened, and slowly, the world around you started to fade.

the last thing you felt was the warmth of their bodies close to you, the steady heartbeat of geto beneath your ear, and the gentle pulse of gojo’s hand moving slowly over your skin. with a quiet sigh, you let yourself surrender to the moment, allowing sleep to pull you under, leaving the worries and complexities of the world behind for just a while.

as you slowly drifted off to sleep, both gojo and geto silently watched, their eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and worry. they remained still, not moving an inch, not wanting to disturb your finally relaxed expression.

the room was now filled with a deep sense of quiet, the silence broken only by the soft sound of your breaths and the steady beats of their hearts. they stayed like that, their arms wrapped around you, not willing to let go just yet. gojo, ever the more restless of the two, reached for the blanket and carefully pulled it over you.

geto’s eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts. “i hate this,” he muttered softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip.

gojo let out a low hum of agreement. “yeah, me too,” he replied, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. his hand continued to move gently over your skin, his touch a soothing comfort.

“it’’ll take some time,” gojo continued. “for her to accept it, i mean.” he paused, swallowing a lump in his throat.

gojo hummed softly, a small, smile tugging at his lips as he tightened his arm around you, pulling you closer into the warmth of his embrace. his hand found geto’s, gently intertwining their fingers, the quiet comfort of their touch a silent promise to stick together through the complexities that lay ahead.

“just a little while,” gojo whispered, his voice soft, almost tender as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. his lips lingered there for a moment, a quiet vow, a reassurance to both you and himself that, no matter the uncertainties, they would face them together. the night fell around them in peaceful silence, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten in the safety of their arms.

geto, noticing the subtle shift in gojo’s demeanor, smiled to himself, his fingers gently intertwining with gojo’s in return. he watched silently as gojo leaned down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before settling back down.

“yeah,” geto murmured, his own voice carrying a hint of determination. “just a little while. she’ll come around. she always does.” he paused, his eyes flickering to gojo’s face briefly. there was a silent understanding between them, a silent reassurance that they would weather whatever storm came their way, together.

the following morning, as the three of you prepared for work, gojo and geto were in the bedroom, focused on getting into their uniforms and gathering their things. however, despite the usual morning routine, you were nowhere to be seen.

gojo pulled the black compression shirt over his head, glancing over at geto as he adjusted his own uniform. his brow furrowed in mild confusion, the quiet of the room making it a bit strange that you hadn’t appeared yet.

“hey, where is she?” gojo asked, his voice a little more casual than his growing concern. “i haven’t seen her in, what—twenty minutes?"”he added, pulling at the collar of his shirt to straighten it, a faint edge of worry creeping into his tone. his eyes scanned the room, as if expecting you to pop out from somewhere.

geto, busy fixing his own uniform, glanced up at gojo’s question, a hint of concern mirrored in his expression. “now that you mention it, she’s taking longer than usual.” he said, his eyes darting around the room as well, almost as if he expected you to magically appear from behind a lamp or under a sofa.

his hand paused in the process of buttoning his shirt as that familiar flutter of worry settled in his chest. “maybe she’s in the bathroom?” he suggested, his voice betraying just a hint of unease.

gojo nodded in agreement, though his brow remained furrowed. “yeah, probably,” he replied, his movements a little more restless as he paced around the room. the silence that followed made the air feel heavy, the usual lightness of the situation now replaced by a palpable sense of anxiety.

he turned towards the bathroom, his hand reaching out for the door handle. “i’ll just check on her,” he said, his voice taking on a more firm tone as he prepared to push the door.

on the other side of the bathroom door, you stood there, gripping the edge of the towel wrapped tightly around your body, the soft fabric bunched under your clenched fingers. you looked down at the small, plastic test in your hand, eyes fixed on the faint, unmistakable two lines. each heartbeat felt louder than the last, pounding against your chest with a mix of dread and overwhelming anxiety.

it wasn’t happiness filling you—not the joy or excitement you’d thought might come if you ever held a test like this. instead, a wave of panic rose, cold and sharp, twisting tightly in your stomach. your hand, gripping the towel, started to tremble, and you couldn’t stop it.

strands of your wet hair clung to your bare shoulders, the droplets cooling against your skin but doing little to steady you. your forehead felt damp, from the lingering steam of the shower and from the sudden heat of panic rising within you.

your mind began to replay the conversation from the night before, fragments of their words coming back in echoes—soft, serious voices admitting fears and reasons. you remembered gojo’s tender but worried tone as he said, “we want you happy, but bringing a child into our world… it’s not the right time.” and geto’s gentle yet sad agreement, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he whispered, “not right now.”

and here you were, facing the reality of it, holding proof of something neither of them were ready for. your gaze drifted over the faded lines on the test, your chest tightening painfully as you tried to breathe through the waves of panic. it felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsteady, your hand shaking even as you tried to steady yourself.

the air in the bathroom felt stifling, the walls closing in on you. the sharp edge of panic pressed down, constricting your chest as you stared down at the two lines. your damp hair clung to your skin, feeling cold and damp against your shoulders, but it did nothing to cool the heat of fear coursing through you.

you felt like you were drowning in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. the memory of last night’s conversation echoed through your mind, the gentle yet firm words of geto and gojo replaying in your head.

a sudden knock on the door made you jump, nearly dropping the test pack. gojo’s voice filtered through, soft but laced with concern. “hey… everything alright in there, love?” he asked, his tone casual but curious as he meet with geto’s gaze.

swallowing hard, you forced your voice to sound steady, even though it felt like every breath was caught in your throat. “y-yeah, i’m alright,” you managed to say, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. your gaze flickered to the door, heart pounding faster with the fear of what lay ahead. you could picture gojo’s face, his lighthearted smile shifting into something more serious, and the thought was enough to make your stomach twist.

you looked down at the test in your hand, the two faint lines glaring back at you like an undeniable truth. images flashed through your mind—imagining their reactions, the shock, the inevitable disappointment, and maybe even anger. you thought of the conversation from last night, their careful words about timing and the dangers of their world, and your chest tightened further. how could you tell them now?

another knock, firmer this time, pulled you back, followed by gojo’s slightly more insistent voice. “love are you hurt? you’ve been in there forever…”

his tone was still light, but the concern was undeniable, and you could imagine his brows drawn together, maybe even a worried frown. you knew you couldn’t stay hidden in here much longer, couldn’t keep the truth hidden from them… but you had no idea how to say it, or what would come after.

gojo’s voice carried through the door again, sounding a little more urgent now. “come on, say something,” he coaxed, his tone still light, but the concern was clear. “you’re starting to scaring us…”

he paused for a moment, listening closely for any hint that you were okay, while geto stood behind him, his usually unreadable expression betraying a hint of worry. the silence that followed was deafening, and gojo’s hand hovered over the door handle, clearly contemplating action.

his patience wearing thin, gojo eventually knocked again, firmly this time, his hand clenching the handle. “please, just say something,” he said, his voice a little more stern, the worry now edged with frustration.

gojo’s mind was racing, a thousand different scenarios playing out at once. each passing moment, the silence from the other side of the door only heightened his anxiety, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each second.

geto spoke up then, his voice joining gojo's. “love, please,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “open the door, or we’re coming in.”

the air was thick with tension as they waited, giving you a moment to respond, to open the door, to do anything to alleviate their growing concern. but when no response came, gojo’s hand grasped the door handle, ready to push it open.

the door creaked open slowly, and you stood there, framed in the doorway with a fragile, almost vulnerable expression that made both gojo and geto go completely silent. their gazes softened instantly, and they could see the unshed tears shimmering in your eyes, the way your hand trembled as you held onto the door, and the nervous, uncertain look on your face.

gojo’s usual lighthearted demeanor disappeared as he took a small step closer, his brows knitting with concern. “hey… what’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice gentle as though afraid to startle you.

geto’s eyes flicked to your hand, clenched tightly behind your back, noticing the way you seemed to be trying to hold something out of sight. he shared a quick look with gojo before he took a steadying breath, his voice low and calming. “we’re here,” he murmured. “whatever it is, you can tell us.”

you took a shaky breath, gathering the last bit of courage you had, feeling the weight of the words stuck in your throat. “i… i need to tell you something,” you whispered, barely able to meet their eyes. you glanced down, biting your lip, feeling the anxiety and panic rise in waves. every word felt like a mountain to climb.

their expressions turned serious, sensing the gravity of the moment. gojo reached out, taking your trembling hand in his and squeezing it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he waited with quiet patience. geto stepped closer too, his hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you in his steady presence.

“take your time,” gojo encouraged softly, his voice a tender murmur. “whatever it is, we’re not going anywhere.”

you stood there in silence, eyes downcast, feeling a tear slip past your resolve despite your best efforts to hold it back. the weight of the decision, the heartache, and the fear mingled together in a painful tangle, twisting in your chest. you knew what had to be done, knew that bringing this up meant making a choice you never wanted to face alone—but the thought of their reaction left you frozen.

gojo’s fingers tightened around yours as he noticed the tear slipping down your cheek, his eyes widening with worry. he tilted his head to try and catch your gaze, his own expression softening with concern. “hey… please, talk to us,” he murmured gently, his voice a mix of desperation and warmth.

geto’s hand on your shoulder gently guided you closer, his thumb rubbing small circles in an attempt to soothe you. he could feel the tension, the weight of something unsaid hanging in the air, and he waited patiently, his own heart aching at the sight of you struggling. gently, he guided you to the bed, sitting you at the edge.

gojo and geto sat on either side of you, their gazes fixed on your face, watching the flurry of emotions flicker across your features. gojo's hand remained clasped around yours, his touch a silent reminder that they were there for you, whatever you had to tell them. geto's hand continued stroking your shoulder, a soft and steady rhythm that spoke of comfort and quiet reassurance.

the silence felt heavy, almost suffocating, as they waited for whatever you were ready to say. the air was thick with anticipation, both of them bracing themselves for whatever revelation might be coming.

gojo’s eyes narrowed as he noticed you hide your other hand behind your back, a subtle but unmistakable movement that sent a wave of unease through him. something was wrong, he could feel it. without saying a word, his hand reached out, gentle but insistent, as he tried to pull your hidden hand from behind your back.

you stiffened, your fingers curling tighter around whatever it was, as if trying to shield it from him. gojo's gaze softened, the concern growing in his chest. “my love,” he said, his voice a tender murmur, yet the underlying firmness was unmistakable. it wasn’t a demand, but a soft warning, a gentle plea for you to let him in.

you hesitated, your grip firming even more in a silent protest, but after a moment, you relented. your hand trembled slightly as he slowly eased it from behind your back, and as his fingers wrapped around yours, the testpack in your hand was finally revealed.

gojo’s heart skipped a beat as he saw it. he didn’t need to say anything. the sight of it—the faint two lines—spoke volumes. his gaze flickered from the testpack to your face, your tear-streaked expression twisting with emotion. his frown deepened, not in anger, but in confusion, concern, and something that could only be described as a heavy ache in his chest.

you whispered barely above a breath, the words tumbling out with a rawness that pierced through the silence. “i’m… i’m pregnant,” you said, your voice breaking, filled with sorrow. “i’m so sorry...”

gojo’s gaze remained fixed on the test pack for a few seconds, his mind struggling to process the words that just came out of your mouth. he could feel his heart pounding faster in his chest, a mix of shock and disbelief coursing through his veins. he glanced up at you, his eyes taking in your distraught expression, the tear-streaked cheeks, and the way you were clenching your jaw.

he opened his mouth, as if to speak, but no words came out. geto, meanwhile, remained silent on your other side, equally stunned and trying to process the news.

the moment the words left your lips, a heavy silence settled between the three of you. gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them. their eyes were filled with unspoken questions, concern, and something deeper—fear, perhaps. they both understood the weight of the decision you were implying, but neither one of them was prepared for it.

but before either of them could speak, you whispered again, your voice barely audible. “you don’t have to worry,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if saying them would make everything easier. “i’ve decided... i’ll terminate the baby.”

the air around you grew thick with tension, each word sinking into the space like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples through the atmosphere. your hands trembled, and even though you tried to mask it, the pain in your eyes was undeniable.

gojo’s heart dropped, and geto’s expression darkened, the weight of your decision settling heavily on both of them. they couldn’t even begin to process the gravity of it, and yet, they knew how deeply conflicted you must’ve been to come to that conclusion.

the moment geto heard the words “terminate the baby,” his heart seemed to stop. his face twisted with a mixture of shock and disbelief, the gravity of your statement weighing heavily on him. without hesitation, he quickly responded, his voice thick with emotion, “no.”

there was a brief pause before he spoke again, this time his tone softer, more pleading. the corner of his lips twitched, as if trying to fight back the ache in his chest. “please, don’t,” he whispered, his voice strained but full of desperation. “it’s our baby,” he continued, his hand gently running through your wet hair, his fingers trembling slightly as they found their way to your scalp, offering a touch of comfort even as he struggled to control the flood of emotions within him.

his words, so gentle yet laced with an undeniable pain, were a stark contrast to the harshness of his initial reaction. he wanted to be strong for you, for the both of you, but in that moment, he was vulnerable, his love for you and the child you carried too strong to ignore. his other hand rested on your shoulder, trying to ground you, to offer reassurance that this decision didn’t have to be made alone, that they would support you no matter what you chose.

“satoru and i... we’re here,” geto murmured, his voice barely audible as he gazed at you with a mixture of love and concern. he was desperate for you to understand that there was no need to face this alone, that they were both willing to take on this responsibility with you, together.

your head snapped up at geto's words, your eyes wide with confusion, as if you couldn't understand what he was saying. the tremble in your hands grew more apparent as you blinked, your mind racing to catch up with the reality of the situation. “but... i thought you didn't want the baby,” you choked out, your voice breaking with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

the words seemed to tumble out of you, your thoughts jumbled, but there was a clarity in the pain in your chest. you hadn't imagined this moment going like this. you'd prepared yourself for the worst—the disappointment, the anger, the rejection. but instead, here they were, offering you support and pleading with you to reconsider.

your chest tightened, and the weight of your emotions pressed down on you like a vice. your eyes were still red from the tears you had fought so hard to keep back, but now, they welled up again, threatening to spill over. your voice cracked as you tried to make sense of it all, your heart torn between the fear of what could come and the love they were offering.

“i thought you... didn’t want this,” you repeated softly, almost to yourself, your eyes searching their faces for some sign that this wasn’t all a misunderstanding. “you said... you weren’t ready.”

geto’s heart ached as he heard your voice break, the confusion and hurt apparent in your words. he could see how much this decision was weighing on you, the weight of the situation clear on your face. he shared a quick glance with gojo, both their expressions mirrored with pain and uncertainty. he knew you hadn’t expected this reaction, hadn’t prepared yourself for their support.

“we...” his voice cracked at first, his own emotions threatening to break through, but he steadied himself and continued. “we never said we didn’t want this.”

gojo, who had been quietly listening for the most part, found his voice in that moment, his words a gentle but firm reassurance. “baby, we were surprised,” he said, drawing your attention to him. his expression softened as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and love.

gojo reached out, his fingers gently taking some of your damp hair and tucking it behind your ear, his touch a tender caress. “but we would never in a million years refuse the gift of a child that we love and want with all our hearts.”

you felt a wave of relief and confusion wash over you as gojo spoke, his voice steady and warm. it was as if the air had shifted, and your heart began to slowly unclench, but the anxiety still clung to you. his words, though reassuring, had made you realize just how panicked you had become, all the while assuming the worst.

you bowed your head, guilt flooding through you as you tried to gather your scattered thoughts. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words slipping out shakily. your voice was small, fragile, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile sense of hope you were starting to feel.

“i... i just got so confused,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “i was just so scared... especially after what you said last night. i didn’t know what to think.”

your hand tightened around the edge of the blanket, the tension in your body slowly easing as you tried to make sense of it all. you couldn't meet their eyes fully yet, still too embarrassed by your own reaction. you had misunderstood them, let fear dictate your actions, and now you felt as if you had been too quick to assume the worst of them.

“i was just... so scared,” you repeated quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words carried the weight of your emotions.

as you spoke, expressing your fear and confusion, gojo and geto’s expressions remained soft, their eyes filled with a mix of understanding and tenderness.

gojo gently placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers interlacing with yours in a comforting grip. “love, please listen,” he murmured, his voice soft yet firm. he paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before he continued.

“i’m sorry we made you feel that way,” he began. “i didn’t mean to give you the impression that we don’t want this baby.”

geto, on your other side, leaned in closer, his face close to you, his eyes fixed on yours. he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle but reassuring. “we were just surprised, that’s all,” he muttered softly. “we hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.”

gojo gently pulled you into his lap, settling you comfortably against him with your legs dangling lightly in the air. his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his warmth seeping into your body. his fingers traced lightly over the towel wrapped around you, his touch soft but full of meaning as he let his hand rest on your stomach.

he met your gaze with a steady, reassuring smile, his eyes full of unwavering support. “hey,” he murmured softly, his voice calm yet filled with conviction. “me and suguru, we’re not going anywhere. we’re always going to be here for you, through everything. you don’t have to face this alone.”

he smiled again, his thumb running gently over your stomach, a quiet promise in his gesture. “for a while, you’ll come around, love. i know it’s a lot right now, but you’ll see. everything’s going to be okay. you’re going to be the luckiest girl, and our child? they’ll be the luckiest too. because we’re going to keep you safe, comfortable, and happy. here, with us. only us.”

his words, full of love and certainty, wrapped around your heart like a warm blanket, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe it.

geto, watching the interaction between you and gojo, couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and tenderness at the sight. gojo’s words had clearly made an impact on you, and he could see how your rigid body was starting to loosen up slightly, the tension in your muscles slowly ebbing away.

he leaned closer towards you, gently taking your hand in his own. he gave it a reassuring squeeze, his fingers tracing tiny circles on your skin. “he’s right, you know,” he mumbled gently. “we’ll always be here for you. and for our baby.”

your heart swelled with emotion as you looked from geto to gojo, taking in the sincerity in both of their faces. the fear and uncertainty that had been gripping you so tightly finally began to loosen, replaced by a comforting warmth that their words and presence brought.

you nodded softly, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips as you whispered, “thank you… thank you both, so much.” your voice was barely audible, but the gratitude in it was clear.

with a gentle sigh, you leaned your head against gojo’s chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your cheek. his hand remained at your waist, his hold protective yet tender, while geto’s fingers continued to trace gentle circles on your hand, grounding you.

gojo felt your weight lean into him and his heart melted. he shifted a bit, wrapping one arm more fully around you, pulling you even closer. his chin rested on your head, his other hand still on your stomach, fingers tracing soft patterns into your skin, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your breathing.

geto’s eyes followed the movement, a tender smile on his lips. he watched you both for a few moments before leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple. “we love you,” he murmured against your skin. “always.”

gojo’s tone was soft yet unwavering as he brushed a hand along your cheek, meeting your eyes with gentle determination. “you’re not going to work today, love,” he murmured, his voice leaving no room for protest. “we’ll talk to yaga, and we’ll be with you the entire day. just rest.”

before you could say anything, gojo leaned down, his arms sliding beneath you as he lifted you effortlessly, his grip both steady and comforting. he held you close to his chest, the warmth of his embrace easing some of the lingering tension in your body. as he carried you over to the bed, you could feel his heartbeat—a constant, soothing rhythm that seemed to match your own.

he set you down gently, his fingers brushing over your skin as he slipped the towel from your shoulders, leaving you bare. his touch was careful, almost reverent, as he tucked you in with the soft blankets, smoothing them over your form to ensure you were wrapped in warmth. his gaze softened as he made sure the blanket cocooned you, his thumb gently tracing along your shoulder, a silent promise of his care.

“just rest now, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the back of his hand. “you’ve been through enough for today… don’t want to stress our baby mama,” his words were a quiet vow, full of love and unwavering support.

geto watched the scene in silence, his heart full of tenderness as gojo took care of you with such gentle yet assertive actions. he could see the exhaustion in your eyes and knew that you needed this moment of rest. the way gojo was handling the situation showed a side of him that many rarely got to see—a caring and nurturing side that was normally buried under his carefree demeanor.

he moved across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on your leg over the blankets. “don’t stress about anything,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice a soft, soothing murmur.

you felt the weight of their love and care surrounding you, and despite the emotional rollercoaster you had just been on, a sense of peace washed over you. your body felt lighter as you allowed yourself to relax into the bed, the warmth of the blankets and their presence making everything else fade away.

with a soft, content smile playing on your lips, you looked at both of them, your voice a soft whisper, “i love you,” you said, your eyes filled with an innocent, trusting affection, all naive and clueless. your heart swelled with the deep love you felt for them, and the reassurance they gave you in that moment meant everything.

gojo, sitting close by, smiled down at you warmly, his eyes soft with admiration as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “we love you, too,” he murmured, his voice full of affection.

geto, his hand still resting on your leg, leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “always, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, a quiet promise that you’d never be alone.

with those words, your eyelids fluttered closed, the exhaustion from the past hours finally catching up to you. your breathing slowed, and you felt yourself drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing you were safe, loved, and cared for by the two people who would always be there, no matter what came next.

as you finally let yourself relax and drift off in a peaceful sleep, gojo and geto both let out a soft sigh, the relief in the room palpable. they both settled in, each on either side of you, close enough so that you were completely surrounded by their presence.

for a while, there was just silence, both of them quietly watching you sleep, their own thoughts swirling in their heads as they took in the sight of you in this vulnerable state. after a moment, gojo broke the silence. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen her look that scared,” he murmured.

as you finally slipped into a peaceful sleep, the quiet settled over the room, but the atmosphere around gojo and geto seemed to pulse with an unspoken energy. they both let out a collective sigh of relief, the weight of the situation lightening just a little as they watched over you. there was something deeply comforting in knowing you were finally able to rest, and yet, something else simmered beneath the surface—an undercurrent of tension and darker thoughts that only they fully understood.

geto, now standing at the edge of the bed, observed your sleeping form with a level of intensity that sent a shiver down the room’s spine. His usual composed demeanor softened only slightly in the quiet, but there was something unsettling about the way his gaze lingered on you. his fingers subtly curled into the fabric of his pockets, his posture relaxed yet controlled. his eyes, usually calculating and sharp, softened at the sight of you so vulnerable, so at peace, yet underneath that tenderness, a quiet, twisted amusement began to build.

he hummed softly under his breath, as if trying to savor the moment, the silence between the three of them a thick layer of unspoken emotions. he leaned in a little closer, his breath barely audible, his gaze unwavering. As his lips curled into a smile, it wasn’t one of kindness or affection. no, this smile was darker, more sinister—a slow, knowing curve that spread across his face, one that seemed to stretch wider with each passing second. it was as if the moment had awakened a part of him that had been lying dormant, a part that thrived on control, on manipulation.

the smile deepened, almost to the point of being maniacal, as his eyes never left your face. the vulnerability you displayed only made it worse for him, feeding something twisted and possessive within. his eyes darkened as he muttered under his breath, his voice low and controlled, yet thick with an undercurrent of satisfaction. “good,” he whispered, a single word that carried the weight of far more than just the moment. it was a word wrapped in meaning that only gojo could fully comprehend.

his smile grew more pronounced as he repeated the sentiment, his voice soft but deliberate. “she’ll come around. eventually.” the words, so simple, carried the venom of a promise, one that was not comforting but instead laden with a subtle threat.

gojo, though silent for a moment, couldn’t stop himself from responding to geto’s words. his lips tightened, his jaw setting slightly as he tried to suppress the subtle twitch at the corner of his own lips. the smile that pulled at the edge of geto’s lips was infectious, and the darker undertones in the air did not escape him. he understood that geto was speaking in a language they both shared—a language of control and manipulation, where the line between care and cruelty blurred into something much more dangerous.

for just a moment, the two of them stood in a charged silence, each aware of the shifting dynamic between them. the tension between gojo and geto was palpable, an undercurrent that you would remain unaware of for now. but in this brief moment, a shared understanding passed between them—an understanding that their influence over you was just beginning, and that they would both ensure that you came around to their way of thinking, whether you realized it or not.

the unspoken connection between them, the quiet shift in their relationship, was something you would not yet recognize, ever. but it was there, simmering beneath the surface, a storm just waiting to break.

gojo’s lips pressed together in a hard line as he fixed geto with a glare, the tension in his gaze like a quiet warning. for a moment, his usually lighthearted expression had vanished, replaced by something almost dangerous. but even as he tried to maintain his irritation, the corner of his mouth betrayed him, twitching with the beginnings of a smile that he couldn’t quite suppress.

“cut it out,” he muttered, his voice low and dripping with barely concealed annoyance. “she’ll know what we do if you don’t stop acting like a maniac and a fucking psycho.”

geto merely chuckled, his laughter a soft and unnervingly calm sound that held no remorse. his smile didn’t waver—in fact, it only grew wider, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint as he gave gojo an innocent look that didn’t fool him for a second. “what’s the matter?” he asked, voice smooth and teasing, as if daring gojo to go on.

despite himself, gojo felt his own irritation start to melt into something else entirely. the smirk that had threatened to break through finally won out, his lips curving into a smile he couldn’t hold back. his gaze softened as he looked down at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind your ear with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the underlying edge in his voice.

“she’ll know we’re the ones who got her pregnant on purpose,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to geto with a knowing glint, “if you doesn’t stop acting like that.”

there was something darkly playful in his words, a mixture of affection and mischief as he spoke. it was a subtle acknowledgment of the deeper intentions that lay beneath their actions, a quiet understanding between him and geto that the two of them were deeply entwined in a plan that only they fully understood. as he looked at you, resting peacefully and oblivious to the weight of the conversation, he felt a surge of possessive affection, a fierce desire to keep you close, safe, and entirely theirs.

geto’s smile only broadened at gojo’s words, his eyes gleaming with a feral flicker that belied the affection and playfulness in his own tone. he chuckled softly, as if enjoying the twisted game they were playing.

“what, and spoil the fun?” he said, his voice lilting with a wicked sort of amusement. his gaze returned to you, his expression one of smug satisfaction as he added, “she’ll figure it out sooner or later. and by then, it’ll be too late for her to run, won’t it?”

gojo rolled his eyes at geto’s words, his irritation still simmering but now mixed with a hint of a smirk. he knew that geto was enjoying this way too much, getting a twisted sort of pleasure out of manipulating the situation to his advantage.

“don’t act like you’re not enjoying this too much,” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of amusement despite himself. “you’ve never been good at hiding your sadistic and obsessive streak, suguru.”

“and you aren’t any better,” geto retorted, his voice still dripping with that same unsettling mix of amusement and dark intent. there was a challenge in his words, a subtle dare for gojo to push back. “remember, you’re the one who suggested this in the first place.”

gojo chuckled softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazed down at your sleeping face, lingering on the bare curve of your shoulder and the delicate chain around your neck—a necklace adorned with the initials G.S., another quiet mark of their claim. “she doesn’t need to know,” he murmured, almost to himself, fingers lightly tracing the line of the necklace as though sealing the sentiment.

no, you didn’t need to know how they had exchanged smirks and carefully worded reassurances the night before, expertly hiding the way their words danced with a double meaning that only they understood. how the notion of not wanting a child was a game, a pretense, just so they could savor the moment you’d discover otherwise, unprepared and utterly theirs.

you didn’t need to know how each moment of intimacy was orchestrated with care, how they ensured you took every part of them without fail, their silent rituals cementing you deeper into their lives.

you didn’t need to know the subtle ways they interfered, leaving your pills out in the sun or “forgetting” to replace certain things—all with that same twisted devotion. or how they took measures to ensure no barriers stood between you and the life they had planned in secret, an existence where you were wholly theirs.

and you would never need to know. that beneath the surface of their love, a darker obsession lay, a primal need to bind you to them irrevocably, to ensure you’d stay in the house they had built for you, forever enveloped in the illusion of warmth and devotion they wove around you.

geto watched as gojo’s gaze trailed down to your necklace, a possessive glint in his eyes as he touched the initials. he knew the meaning behind that look, the quiet satisfaction that came with staking such a visible claim on you. it was one of their many quiet acts of possession, a twisted way of ensuring you were truly theirs.

he knew the lengths they had gone to for this moment, the careful planning and manipulation that had led to your ignorant bliss, and it only stoked the fire of his twisted desire even further.

his smile widened as he felt the weight of the knowledge that they were shaping your life and future without your knowledge or consent, the dark thrill of it all sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. he relished in the way they had subtly manipulated the situation, making sure you had no choice but to follow their will, and all while keeping you blinded to their true intentions.

“i wonder,” geto murmured, “how long will it take you to realize you’re a trapped bird in our grasp?” he murmured, eyes locked to your beautiful face.

his eyes gleamed with a twisted sort of satisfaction as he watched your peaceful, oblivious sleeping form. you had no idea what was in store for you, no clue how deep their control over you had already become. and by the time you finally figured it all out, it would be far too late to escape.

gojo chuckled at geto’s words, his eyes still fixed on the necklace. “you forget that she loves us,” he said, his tone carrying the confidence of someone who knew he had the upper hand. “and love can be a stronger chain than any force we can use.”

but beneath his flippant tone, there was another layer, a darker current of possessiveness that ran deep. he knew your love for him and geto went beyond what was healthy, a twisted form of affection that they had carefully nurtured. “we’ve loved her for the past ten years, we do what we do because of love.”

geto let out a dismissive snort, not entirely convinced. he knew all too well how easily love could be twisted and manipulated, used as a leash to keep someone under control.

“love isn’t always a good thing, you know that,” he muttered, his smile taking on a darker edge as he mused, “sometimes it’s just a pretty word for obsession.”

he met gojo’s gaze, his eyes cold and calculating. “and you and i both know our love for her is more possessive than it is healthy,” geto added, his voice almost gleeful at the admission.

“it’s healthy, we love her.”

geto’s smile widened at gojo’s words, his gaze calculating as he leaned back slightly, his arms folding over his chest in a manner that spoke of dominance and control. “you’re fooling yourself, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low, almost like a taunt. “love isn’t always as pure as we tell ourselves it is. sometimes, it’s just a way to justify what we want.”

he let the words linger in the air, his eyes locking with gojo’s, daring him to deny the truth. geto didn’t believe in the comforting illusions of love, not anymore. he knew the truth about the darkness that could lie beneath it, how easily love could be turned into something possessive, something suffocating.

“satoru, don’t act like we don’t both know. we’re not here because of some innocent love,” geto said, his voice a mix of amusement and malice. “we’re here because we can't stand the thought of losing her.”

gojo remained silent for a moment, his lips thinning, the air between them charged with an unspoken understanding. but then, his gaze softened, just a fraction. “we love her,” he said firmly, shaking his head as if trying to shake off geto's words. “it’s not unhealthy. we give her everything she wants, everything she needs. we don’t force her to do anything, we’ve never done anything to make her unhappy. we want to make her life perfect.”

he paused, his eyes looking toward you, still peacefully asleep between them. “it’s just... a little more love. getting her pregnant—it’s just a way to make sure she’s always ours, that we’re never apart.”

there was a certain heaviness in gojo’s words, a quiet vulnerability beneath his usual bravado. he knew, deep down, that they were both terrified of the possibility of losing you—terrified of the thought that you could slip away from them. their love, twisted as it may be, was rooted in that fear.

“it’s the right thing,” gojo continued, his voice tinged with something raw and desperate. “we just... we can’t lose her.”

geto regarded gojo silently, studying his face intently. there was a small part of him that felt a pang of sympathy at the vulnerability in gojo's words, at the fear that he saw lurking beneath his facade. but he pushed it down, refusing to let it soften him.

“you’re delusional,” he said bluntly, shaking his head. “you can call it love all you like, but the truth is, it's possession. you want to own her completely, to make her dependent on us. and you’ll stop at nothing to achieve that.”

gojo listened to geto’s words, his expression unreadable for a moment, but a soft hum escaped his lips as he leaned closer, his gaze softening as it landed on you. without a word, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

as he pulled back, he whispered, almost reverently, “she is ours,�� the words a quiet affirmation, a promise that seemed to echo through the air between them.

his fingers trailed gently across your cheek, running his knuckles over your skin, the touch delicate yet filled with a possessive warmth. there was a quiet intensity in his gaze as he watched you, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as though to reassure himself that you were still there, still his.

gojo'’ demeanor softened again, and for a brief moment, the raw, vulnerable side of him surfaced—just a fleeting glimpse of the man who feared losing you. but it was quickly masked by the quiet confidence, the undeniable possessiveness that had always been there. he wasn’t delusional, at least not in his mind. he was simply ensuring that you would never be taken from him, from both of them.

his eyes flicked to geto, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “you can call it whatever you want,” he murmured, “but this is love, suguru. and we're never letting her go.”

gojo’s hand rubs soft, gentle circles on your belly over the soft blanket, his eyes fixated on the spot where your baby is growing. a possessive smile plays at the corner of his lips, his voice soft when he speaks. “ours to love, to protect—to keep.”

geto hummed in satisfaction, his gaze lingering on you, taking in the peacefulness of your sleep. there was something about seeing you like this that made his possessiveness flare even more, but it was a contented, almost affectionate kind of obsession.

he stepped closer to gojo, his hand reaching out to rest gently against his boyfriend’s back, a subtle reassurance. “let her rest,” he said, his voice calm, though there was a quiet excitement in his tone. “she’s been through a lot.”

his fingers then slid up to gojo’s undercut, his touch soft, almost tender, as he whispered with a smile, “maybe we should start looking for a room in the house… turn it into a nursery.”

there was a spark of genuine excitement in geto’s eyes, despite knowing that it was still a long time before the baby would arrive. but that didn’t stop him from feeling an intense, almost overwhelming sense of anticipation. this was their first child, after all—their child—and he couldn’t wait for the moment when everything would finally be real.

gojo’s lips curled into a proud grin at the mention of a nursery. he knew it was too early to start planning and preparing, but he couldn’t help but jump on the idea instantly.

“yeah,” he agreed, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and adoration. “we should start working on decorating the room, picking out furniture, maybe start buying some cute little baby clothes…”

he paused, imagining the room filled with adorable cribs and soft toys, before adding with a smirk, “and maybe we should start thinking of baby names.”

geto chuckled softly at gojo’s words, a slight shake of his head as he listened to his boyfriend’s excited ramblings. the image of gojo, the usually carefree and chaotic force of nature, getting so wrapped up in something as sweet and innocent as baby names, made a rare warmth flicker in his chest.

“you’re already thinking of baby names, huh?” geto murmured with a small, knowing smile. “you really can’t wait, can you?”

gojo making sure you were comfortable and warm, adjusting the blanket around you gently before standing up. then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around geto’s waist, pulling him in close. the two of them silently left the bedroom together, moving into the hallway as the sound of their footsteps echoed softly in the quiet house.

as they walked down the hallway, the feeling of possessiveness and excitement still swirling in the air between them, geto broke the silence. his voice was low but filled with certainty, the dark gleam in his eyes never quite fading as he met gojo’s gaze.

“we are going to give her and our baby the world,” he said, his voice almost reverent, though tinged with a dangerous kind of possessiveness. “aren’t we?” his question was more of a quiet affirmation, a shared understanding between them that no one would take either of you from them—not now, not ever.

gojo gave an unapologetic nod at geto’s words, his arms tightening around his waist. there was no denying how excited he was—he couldn’t help but get carried away sometimes.

he leaned in close to geto, resting his head on the man’s shoulder as they walked down the hallway. “of course,” he murmured, his voice low and intense. “whatever they want, we’ll give them. whatever they need, we’ll provide. they’ll never want for anything.”

then, an amused smirk crossed his face as he added, “we’ll spoil them completely, won’t we?”

geto chuckled a little at gojo’s question, a small hum of agreement escaping his lips. the idea of spoiling the baby, giving them everything they could possibly want, was an appealing one, to say the least.

“you’re already plotting to give them the most lavish birthday parties, aren’t you?” he teased, his tone light though there was a hint of fond amusement in his eyes as he glanced sidelong at his boyfriend.

“we’ll give them everything they could ask for,” gojo said, his voice a low murmur. “the world isn’t enough.”

geto smiled at gojo’s response, his hand reaching up to brush a few strands of hair back from his boyfriend’s forehead. he knew gojo all too well, and the man’s tendency to go overboard when it came to you and the baby was something he was all too familiar with.

he let out a soft, amused snort, shaking his head as he commented, “lavish is an understatement, satoru. you’re probably already planning a theme park for their first birthday.”

gojo chuckled at the thought, imagining the look on the baby’s face as they explored a whole theme park built solely for them. the idea was ridiculous and over-the-top—but that was gojo all over.

“well,” he mused, his voice taking on a playful tone, “they are ours, and our baby deserves the best. so yeah, a theme park might be a good start.”

he shot a sly grin at geto, adding, “though i was actually thinking of something more grand, like maybe a petting zoo. or a small circus.” the thoughts, the ideas swimming freely in his mind, filled with each possible and the things he and geto can and would do for you and their child.

gojo groans, hiding his face on geto’s shoulder, “they haven’t been born yet and i already love them so much.”

upon hearing gojo’s ridiculous ideas for grand birthday parties for a literal baby, geto let out an amused chuckle, his expression a mix of fond exasperation. “a petting zoo,” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “you're unbelievable. and i thought i was supposed to be the unhinged one in this relationship.”

despite the teasing comments, though, there was a hint of affection in his voice, a begrudging fondness. he knew gojo’s ridiculous tendencies, after all, and this was well within the limits of his boyfriend’s chaotic character.

gojo hummed happily at geto’s words, his face still hidden in the crook of his boyfriend’s shoulder. his heart felt so full in moments like this, where he could just imagine the future and the life they were slowly creating for themselves.

“i just love our babies so much,” he said referring to you and the future child, his voice a little bit muffled, but the tenderness was still clear in his tone.

geto rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts. gojo’s sappy side was a side that he only showed to those he trusted, and geto couldn’t deny that his boyfriend’s affectionate nature was endearing, in his own way.

“you’re such a sap,” he muttered, his voice fond. “you realize there’s still, like, what, 8 months? before the baby’s even born, right? don’t get ahead of yourself now.”

gojo lifted his head a little so he could glance up at geto, an exaggerated pout on his face. “i can’t help it,” he protested, his voice whining a little. “i’m excited, okay? i can’t help it if i’m already thinking about what we’ll dress them up as for halloween and what toys they’ll like and how we’ll decorate the nursery and so on and so on...”

[menagerofmischief]

Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

[jinwoosbabyboo]

No Nut November

How I headcanon the lads men participating in NNN A/N: ‼️MDNI‼️ me personally I'm teasing them all month because why not :) [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Succeeded Just Barely]

questions you endlessly about what NNN is and where you even heard of it

starts listing all the pros and cons of this kind of challenge “Are you going to participate or not?” “I have self-control I'll do it”

He really did end up having an insane amount of self-control

you end up being the one who wants him to break

he was on track to make it the entire month allowing you to either ride his fingers or his tongue to satisfy you but you wanted more

ended up pulling that one wicked card of sitting on his lap and putting your boobs in his face and thats how you almost got him

“you have an unfair advantage, but I will restrain myself”

you tried to make him break on the last day and he did and you literally got railed in his office and he nutted after midnight so your plan failed

don’t worry the door was locked he’s not that risky

"I can't believe you actually did it" "working overtime helped"

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Failed November 12th]

wasn't going to do it at first but you teased him into agreeing

Is overconfident to start

wants you more now knowing he can’t have you

anything you do he thinks you’re tempting him

“You’re trying to sabotage me!” “Im just grabbing a bowl??”

convinced himself this is what true torture is

constantly taking cold showers to calm himself down

keeps going back and forth between wanting you to leave and wanting you with him at all times

“I can’t do this” he would pull you on top of him tell you how dumb this challenge was

ends up almost creaming his pants just having you on top of him

takes you on every surface he can find and falls asleep still inside you

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Failed November 5th]

Already failed unintentionally on the 1st

Kept you up all night on Halloween which bled into November 1st

“We won’t count that so do you want to try it” “I guess”

suffering from day one "I don't like this" "It would help if you stop putting your hands all over me" "That sounds like torture"

Is willing to try but ends up not even lasting a week

tries to find ways around the rules

Started out by him saying “I just want to make you cum” creamed his pants by just eating you out

Asks you to never make him try that again unless you plan on leaving him for a month which is even worse

proceeds to give you a repeat of halloween night after making him wait for almost a week

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Failed November 23rd]

He’s one to honor a bet so now you’re the one suffering

“Are you participating as well?” “Sure why not I know you’ll break first”

He wants you to crack first

Starts wearing everything he knows turns you on

“Restrain yourself until December sweetie”

Acts oblivious to what he’s doing

two weeks in he is finding EVERY LOOPHOLE POSSIBLE

could have made the whole month, but you two decided to edge each other by that third week

“You said and I quote ‘No Nut November’ I only edged you sweetie you haven’t lost yet”

Massages you, constantly kissing and nibbling on your neck, goes as far as to play with it or eat you out until you’re right on the edge then stops

It ends up being an edging game between the two of you and you break at the same time and he’s turning you every which way, but loose not stopping until the bed is bent

“I’ll make better rules next year” “We’re not participating next year”

[theonottsbxtch]

LOVE - LOCKED | FC43

an: this is based off of this request and i hope you like it bc i had sm fun writing a romantic slightly angsty thing i cant wait to hear what y'all thin, i also think it may be slightly rushed tho so lol ALSO LOL WE'RE GONNA PRETEND CARLOS IS YOUNGER IN THIS BC I NEEDED HER TO BE HIS OLDER SISTER

summary: carlos' sister has lived her life completely separated from him and their family name, instead she went and made a name for herself in the tennis world - she likes her life like that. that is until she meets franco colapinto

wc: 8.7k

The roar of engines, even from a distance, unsettled her.

They reminded her of the long days her father and brother spent in garages, the low rumble of motors and sharp tang of fuel in the air. Those were the hours she’d spend alone, working on her serve in the empty court across town, each hit ricocheting off the walls with a hollow, lonely echo. Her own choice, of course. She’d had no interest in the world of carbon fibre and grease, no desire to be the girl who simply tagged along, her name always in her brother’s shadow.

Now, years later, she’d become someone entirely on her own terms. A name people knew on its own — Vázquez de Castro — a name that meant something outside of her family, outside of her brother’s fame.

She slipped her phone into her bag and looked around the chaotic pit lane. Journalists, engineers, teams in matching shirts, faces alight with anticipation for the weekend's race. She knew she’d stand out here; her face might be familiar, but she was a stranger in this world.

The hum of voices around her faded as she felt his gaze. She’d been hoping to move through unnoticed, just a face in a sea of faces, but there he was: tall, familiar, unmistakably Carlos. His brow furrowed in surprise as he caught sight of her, his quick steps carrying him closer before she had a chance to dodge. She braced herself, turning to him with a calm that she didn’t quite feel.

“No aquí,” she murmured, her voice low, hoping that would be enough to keep curious ears at bay.

He paused, just a moment, his expression softening in understanding, and he tilted his head, his face somewhere between a grin and a frown. “You came.”

It wasn’t an accusation exactly — more surprise than anything. But she couldn’t miss the faint hope in his eyes, as if he thought she might be here to see him, to share a piece of his world after all this time. She let his words linger for a beat before she replied, her tone steady.

“I was invited,” she said, giving a slight shrug, “by Fernando.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the green and silver canopy, keeping her tone casual, but she saw his shoulders fall ever so slightly.

He nodded, glancing away for a moment, his jaw set. “Right. Fernando.”

There was something she wanted to say, something to soften the look in his eyes, but the pit lane was crowded, the eyes and cameras trained on every inch of the paddock sharper than she’d ever expected. They’d notice anything. And the last thing she wanted was for the papers to start spinning stories, putting her under a headline right next to him.

She touched his arm briefly. “Te hablo en el hotel. I’ll speak to you at the hotel.”

As she made her way toward the exit, ready to slip back into the background and disappear, she heard a voice calling out just over the rumble of engines and chatter.

“¡La princesa española!”

The words were unmistakable, lilting and clear, even with the crowd and machinery all around. The Spanish Princess. The nickname made her falter. It was something she sometimes heard on the tennis courts in Madrid or whispered by fans in distant cities when she played in international tournaments. But here? She scanned the area, puzzled at who would recognise her in this world of racing.

When she turned, her eyes met those of someone unfamiliar yet striking. He was tall, with an easy, disarming smile, his race suit gleaming with the bright, bold colours of his team’s livery. He looked young, not much older than she was, but he carried himself with that unmistakable energy she’d seen in rising stars before. The rookie, she realised, though she hadn’t kept up enough to know his name.

He held her gaze a moment too long, that same smile lingering as he approached, his eyes sparking with something between amusement and curiosity. She felt herself tense, almost involuntarily, her instinct telling her to slip away, to avoid whatever came next.

“Es realmente la princesa española,” he said, his tone playful yet certain.

Then it hit her.

Franco.

That was his name.

Franco’s grin widened as he closed the distance between them, his eyes bright with an almost boyish enthusiasm. “Soy un gran admirador de tu trabajo,” he said, his Argentine accent softening his words. “I’ve watched almost all your matches — I love the way you play.”

She blinked, taken aback. This wasn’t the usual kind of recognition she got, especially not here. She could count on one hand how many times she’d been recognised in public. She looked at him, trying to reconcile this confident young driver with the earnest fan in front of her.

“¿Me conoces?” The question slipped out before she could think, her voice tinged with disbelief.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile never faltering. “¿Quién no te conoce?” he replied, with a touch of humour. “La princesa española, queen of the clay court, unstoppable backhand — yeah, I know you.”

There was something genuine in his tone, something that set him apart from the usual strangers who said they knew her. 

And before she could stop herself, she found herself almost smiling. She cleared her throat, searching for a response, but her mind was blank. What could she say? That she knew nothing of him, or any of these people — that she had only set foot here today by chance?

She settled for a simple, “Gracias.”

Franco’s curiosity didn’t waver. He leaned in slightly, folding his arms with an amused glint in his eyes. “So, what brings la princesa española to the F1 paddock?”

She shrugged lightly, careful not to reveal too much. “I’m here as one of Fernando Alonso’s guests. Aston Martin.” She left it at that, hoping he wouldn’t dig further. Noticing that she looked a bit like another driver on the paddock. Thankfully, he didn’t.

His grin only grew wider, and she had the feeling that her mystery intrigued him. “Well then, if you’re one of Fernando’s guests, that means you’re not tied to my team,” he said with a glint of mischief. “Come with me — I’ll give you a tour of my garage. It’ll be like… a private tour.”

She hesitated, her gaze shifting back toward the exit, where she’d planned to slip out and leave all of this behind. If she went with him, there was a chance people would recognise her, start to connect her with her brother’s world. She’d spent her whole career carefully avoiding this — the headlines, the whispers, the inevitable questions about why she’d chosen such a different path. But the look on his face, that open, boyish enthusiasm, was hard to resist.

She let out a sigh, then looked up at him with a sudden, defiant glimmer in her eye. “Screw it. ¿Por qué no?”

His whole face lit up. She could practically see the excitement radiating off him as he extended his hand, his confidence a little too easy, a little too certain. She eyed his hand for a moment before raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

“Modales,” she chided, her tone playful. “I’ve known you for five minutes. We’re not dating.”

“Yet,” he replied without missing a beat, a spark in his eyes.

Despite herself, she smiled, a real one, something she hadn’t felt since stepping into the paddock that day.

He led her through the bustling paddock with an easy confidence, weaving between crew members, equipment, and cameras as if none of it could touch him. She was impressed, though she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying so. The chaos of the pit lane, the narrow spaces and the clang of metal, all seemed to bend around him.

When they reached his team’s garage, he stopped by a young assistant stationed just outside, who looked at them with curious eyes.

“Do me a favour,” he said, barely containing his grin, “and grab a VIP lanyard for Williams’ guests, will you?”

The assistant glanced at her, his eyes widening slightly in recognition before he nodded and ducked away, returning a moment later with a crisp, team-branded lanyard. Franco took it with a pleased smile, then held out his hand for hers. She unclipped the Aston Martin lanyard from her neck and handed it over, watching with a mix of surprise and amusement as he replaced it with the one from his own team.

“There,” he said, adjusting the lanyard’s position with exaggerated care. “Now you’re officially part of the team.”

She couldn’t hold back her smirk. “You know, I don’t think lanyards change allegiances so easily.”

“Maybe not. But I do think it’s an improvement.” He winked, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Besides, the only lanyard you should be wearing here is mine.”

She laughed, caught off guard by his unfiltered charm, as he held out his arm with an exaggerated flourish. “And now, mi princesa, a grand tour.”

He led her into the garage, his tone switching between informative and teasing as he explained the various stations. “Over here, we have the engineering bay — where the magic of data happens.” He gestured toward a row of monitors displaying endless streams of numbers. “And these guys in the corner? They’re the wizards of aerodynamics. Make a mess, they won’t let you forget it.”

As they moved through each section, he offered her a glimpse into the world of F1, his energy and excitement almost contagious. She watched him with quiet intrigue; he seemed to belong here completely, as if he thrived in the chaos and intensity of it all.

“Now, over here,” he continued, leaning a bit closer to her as they approached a sleek wall of tires and tools, “this is where I go for my pre-race pep talks. I think it helps the tires, too.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You talk to the tires?”

“Only on occasion,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “And they listen. Or at least, I hope they do.” He grinned again, that glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Besides, they never talk back.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, but there was a smile in it, one she couldn’t quite suppress. He was disarming, funny in a way that felt refreshingly different from the sharp, serious world she’d known. He noticed the hint of a smile and held her gaze, leaning in just slightly.

Before she could say anything else, Franco led her deeper into the garage, weaving through the maze of tools, car parts, and engineers, who looked up now and then with curious glances. She followed, intrigued despite herself, and finally, unable to keep silent, asked, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said, shooting her a look over his shoulder that was both charming and infuriatingly vague.

He stopped in front of a nondescript door tucked away from the bustle of the main garage. She glanced around, realising they were in the private part of the team’s area. He opened the door to his driver room, gesturing for her to step inside. The room was small but comfortable, filled with team memorabilia, spare racing gloves, and a neat rack of team-branded clothes. Before she could take it all in, he went over to a stack of neatly folded shirts and pulled one from the pile.

He turned back to her, holding up the shirt with a proud smile. “Here,” he said, offering it to her. “Wear this tomorrow.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing between him and the shirt with mock scepticism. “Bold of you to assume I’d wear your merch.”

His grin only widened. “I think you’d look great in it,” he said, undeterred. “Besides, it’d be an honour to have la princesa española in my colours.”

She took the shirt, running her fingers over the soft fabric, and met his gaze with a slight smirk. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good enough for me,” he replied, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, his phone buzzed on the nearby table, and he glanced at it with a slight frown before pocketing it again.

“So,” he continued, his tone shifting to something a little more casual, “what are you doing for dinner?”

The question surprised her. She hadn’t planned on lingering much longer after her brother’s race prep finished. She hadn’t planned on any of this, really. But he was watching her expectantly, and for a moment, she let herself consider it.

“Dinner?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. “You’re not very subtle, are you?”

“Not at all,” he admitted with a grin. “What do you say? Let me take you out. I promise I’m as good at picking places to eat as I am at tours.”

She couldn’t resist a small laugh. “Alright,” she said, glancing up at him with an easy smile. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

He opened his mouth to say something more, but just then, a voice called out from down the hallway. “Franco man, we’ve been looking all around for you!” A team manager appeared in the doorway, looking equal parts exasperated and amused.

Franco sighed, flashing her an apologetic look as he straightened. “Duty calls,” he muttered with a smirk. He lingered a moment, as if reluctant to leave, then glanced back at her with a warm smile.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she said, feeling a thrill she hadn’t expected. “See you tonight.”

He nodded, his grin returning full force, then turned to follow the manager out, giving her a final, backward glance that lingered just a second too long.

Back in her hotel room, she brushed a final touch of mascara over her lashes and glanced at her phone, where a text from Franco glowed on the screen.

Franco: “Ready whenever you are. No rush. See you soon :)”

She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Tonight felt surprisingly… normal. Like she was just someone getting ready for a date, no stakes attached. She straightened her dress, checked her reflection, and took a steadying breath.

A soft knock at her door snapped her from her thoughts, and she felt a small flutter of excitement, assuming it was him. But when she opened the door, her breath caught.

Her brother stood there, his expression a mixture of confusion and something she couldn’t quite read. She masked her surprise quickly, stepping aside to let him in, though her voice was firm. “I can talk for a bit, but I have plans tonight.”

“With Franco?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, caught off guard. “How did you know?”

He gave a soft, humourless laugh, crossing his arms. “I saw you two in the paddock,” he said. “And I overheard him talking about it in the garage. Apparently, he couldn’t stop telling anyone who’d listen about his ‘date with la princesa de España.’” He looked at her, and his voice softened. “So why is it you have no problem being seen with him, but not with your own brother?”

His question hung heavily in the air, the familiar tension between them settling back into place. She took a breath, struggling for the right words. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be seen with him — it was the weight of everything that came with it. The press, the fans, the inevitable comparisons. She could already see the headlines if they were spotted together, her name placed directly beside his, stripping away the hard-won independence she’d fought for.

She sighed, glancing at him. “It’s not… about you,” she said carefully. “It’s just… everything that comes with it. You know how it is.”

He shook his head, looking slightly hurt. “I don’t know, actually. I’ve always thought we were supposed to be in this together. But I feel like… I don’t know, like you’re just trying to run from anything that connects us.”

She sighed, leaning against the doorframe, her voice dropping to something softer, more serious. “It’s not that I don’t want to be seen with you,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I just don’t want to be known as Carlos’ sister everywhere I go. I’ve worked hard to build my own name, my own career, and sometimes… being around you, it overshadows that.”

Her brother studied her, his face a mix of understanding and something else, a flash of protective instinct. “You know, if you date Franco, you’ll just end up being known as his girlfriend,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “It’s just a date, Carlos. Nothing more.”

He shrugged, his mouth quirking in a small smile. “Yeah, well, with him, nothing ever stays ‘just’ anything. Just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth behind it. “Thanks for the concern, but I’ll be fine.”

They shared a quiet moment of understanding before she gently nudged him toward the door. “Go get some rest. And good luck tomorrow. I’ll be cheering from the sidelines.”

The evening was soft and cool, the sky painted in shades of violet and indigo as the city stretched out below them. The balcony they’d stepped onto was tucked away from the bustling noise of the hotel, private and intimate, offering only the sounds of the night breeze and the occasional far-off hum of the city.

Franco had arranged it all—quiet, serene, away from prying eyes. The dinner was simple but elegant: a few delicate dishes of fresh seafood, wine that wasn’t too heavy, just enough to let the conversation flow freely. It was just the two of them, and she realised as she stood there, her hand brushing the railing, how rare that felt.

She’d worn a dress that was understated, yet elegant—a deep midnight blue that mirrored the evening sky, the fabric light enough to catch the breeze. She hadn’t given it much thought; it wasn’t for anyone but herself. But when Franco first saw her, the look in his eyes told her that, maybe, it had been the right choice after all.

His gaze lifted from the table where he had been adjusting the wine glasses, and the moment he saw her, the words spilled out before he could even stop them.

“Dios mío, qué hermosa estás.” His voice was low, his gaze sweeping over her with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

She felt her cheeks flush, the compliment unexpected but not unwelcome. She had been nervous about the evening, unsure of what this was or what it would become. But his words, simple and sincere, relaxed something inside her.

“Gracias,” she replied with a small smile, feeling the warmth in her chest spread, her eyes meeting his.

He stood up, taking a small step toward her as if to take in the full picture, his gaze never leaving her face. “I swear,” he continued, his voice filled with genuine awe, “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even more stunning than earlier. It's like... you're glowing.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I think you’re just being kind.”

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head as he closed the distance between them. “I’m not the kind of guy to throw compliments around just to be polite. Te ves increíble, you look incredible.”

After a decent amount of eating, a stretched out silence, Franco spoke up. “So,” he began, his voice casual but warm, “what’s it like to be the la princesa española outside of tennis?”

She raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her wine. “I don’t really think of myself as that,” she said lightly. “It’s just a nickname.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “I think it suits you. You have a... regal air about you.” His eyes glinted with mischief as he added, “I’m sure you’d never get away with being late for anything. Everyone would just wait for the princess to show up.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “You really are persistent with those compliments, aren’t you?”

“Solo con la verdad,” he said with a grin, leaning back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself.

The evening unfolded easily after that. They spoke about everything and nothing: about their childhoods, what had brought them to this point in their careers, how it felt to always be in the spotlight. She told him stories from her tennis matches, and he shared wild tales of racing, of the constant pressure and adrenaline.

But it was the quieter moments, the small pauses between their words, that felt the most significant. When he leaned in to pass her the bottle of wine, their hands brushed, and the air seemed to thicken for a moment. His gaze lingered a bit longer than it needed to, and she noticed the subtle way his smile softened when their eyes met. She wasn’t used to this — this ease, this comfort that felt so unforced — but it was exactly what she hadn’t realised she’d been searching for.

“You know,” Franco said, his tone thoughtful, “I can’t remember the last time I had a night like this. Just—” He waved his hand toward the view, the quiet that surrounded them. “It’s nice. To not be rushing off to something. No cameras, no expectations.”

She looked out over the balcony at the skyline, the city lights twinkling in the distance. “I know what you mean. There’s always so much noise, so many people trying to pull you in different directions. It’s rare to just… be.” She turned to look at him, her voice lowering slightly. “It’s a little surreal, actually.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, there was a silence between them that felt like a shared understanding. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he looked at her, his expression genuine. “I’m glad you’re here with me tonight. I’m glad I got to spend this time with you.”

Her heart did a little flip at the sincerity in his voice. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from the evening, but this — this felt right.

“So,” he continued, his voice lightening again, “any chance I can convince you to wear my team’s shirt tomorrow?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he said with a wink, “but only because I know you’d look amazing in it.”

She rolled her eyes but could feel the warmth in her chest spread. “I’ll think about it,” she teased, mirroring his playful tone.

The conversation drifted back to lighter topics, the evening unfolding with ease as the world seemed to blur around them. As the night deepened, they shared stories, laughter, and quiet glances that spoke volumes. It wasn’t the fireworks, the grand gestures of a first date. But it was something else — something that felt like a beginning.

When the last of the wine was finished, and the candles flickered low, Franco stood, offering her a hand to help her to her feet. He didn’t say anything at first, but his eyes told her everything. His fingers brushed against hers, and she didn’t pull away.

As the night grew later, the air around them cooled, and they moved to the edge of the balcony, gazing out over the city. The quiet was comforting, the soft hum of distant traffic the only sound breaking the stillness between them.

She let out a small sigh, her mind wandering, and with it, the weight of everything that had brought her to this moment. She looked up at him, caught in the calm but uncertain about what this night might mean.

"Well, this has been lovely," she said, her voice light but tinged with something else. "But, just so you know… this is probably going to be our only date."

His eyebrows furrowed, his smile faltering for just a fraction of a second. “Why?” he asked, his tone suddenly laced with concern. “Have I done something wrong?”

She met his gaze, her chest tight for reasons she couldn’t quite place. There was no logical reason for her to feel that way — he had been nothing but kind, charming, and genuine all night. But there was still that lingering sense of hesitation, a wall she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to tear down.

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head as if to reassure him. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

He looked at her for a long moment, studying her face. The playful glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something softer, something quieter, as if he were trying to understand her better.

“I’m not really a person who runs from things," she said, her voice lowering slightly, unsure how to put her thoughts into words. “But there are parts of my life I’m... careful about. I can’t help but keep them to myself.”

She hesitated, feeling a strange tug in her chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, she found herself wanting to share something personal, something she had hidden away. She took a breath and let it slip out before she could second-guess herself.

“I have a brother,” she began, looking out at the city below them, trying to steady her voice. “He’s a Formula 1 driver.”

Franco froze, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Wait... what?”

She glanced at him, a slight laugh escaping her lips at the look of genuine surprise on his face. “Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “Carlos.”

He blinked, his surprise turning into a quiet sense of disbelief. “Carlos Sainz?” He repeated her brother’s name, almost as if he were trying to process it. “I had no idea…”

She looked at him, a slight sadness settling in her chest. “Most people don’t,” she said, her voice quiet now. “I never tell anyone. I’ve worked my entire life to be known for me—for what I do, not because of who I’m related to. I don’t want to live in someone’s shadow.”

Franco didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence stretch out between them. He was thinking, she could tell. It was as though he were weighing her words, weighing the tension in her tone. Then, slowly, he spoke, his voice steady but sincere.

“With me, you wouldn't,” he said, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that took her by surprise. “You wouldn’t be in anyone’s shadow. Not if you didn’t want to be.”

She was quiet for a long moment, his words sinking in. Part of her wanted to dismiss it, wanted to keep pushing away the idea of anyone in her life stepping into that shadow. But there was something in his eyes—something honest and unwavering—that made her hesitate. He wasn’t offering her fame or status. He was offering her something far simpler. The space to be herself.

Then, he said something that made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ll be your WAG,” he said, his voice surprisingly matter-of-fact, his smile just a little crooked.

She laughed, a quick, startled sound. “What?” she teased, shaking her head. “Are you serious? ‘WAG’—really?”

He leaned in slightly, the smile still on his face but his eyes unflinching. “En serio. I’m serious.” he added with a little more emphasis, the words flowing naturally from him.

Her laughter died down, replaced by a brief, curious silence. She was still processing his words, still trying to understand how it had escalated from a simple dinner to this.

“You’re joking,” she said softly, unsure whether to laugh or take him seriously.

“No,” he7 replied, his voice now calm, almost earnest. “I’m not. Look, I get it. The whole ‘WAG’ thing... it sounds ridiculous, I know. But the way I see it, we’d be a team. You’d have my back, and I’d have yours. No shadows, no expectations, just us. What we make of it.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms as she considered what he was saying. The idea of it felt foreign, a little intimidating, but something about it also felt right in a way she hadn’t expected. No grand gestures, no drama. Just… us, as he’d said.

“Don’t you think I’d look good in a sponsored Channel crop top?” he joked, and the thought of it made her laugh.

Before she could stop it, however, her mind flashed to her brother, to the years of keeping her life private, to the way she had fought so hard to remain in the background of her family’s legacy. And yet here was Franco, offering something different. He wasn’t asking her to be a part of his world—he was offering her a partnership, an equal footing.

For the first time that evening, she allowed herself to truly think about what that might mean. To be seen, not as someone’s sister or someone’s girlfriend, but just as herself.

“Maybe... maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” she said quietly, her voice uncertain but filled with a growing sense of possibility.

Franco looked at her, a quiet confidence in his eyes. “Entonces, we’ll figure it out together. No shadows. Just us.”

“Just us.”

“You better wear my shirt tomorrow,” he said, his voice teasing but hopeful.

She smirked, folding her arms across her chest as she looked at him. “I’ll think about it.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “You better. I’ll be watching.”

She laughed, shaking her head at his persistence. “We’ll see.”

The next morning arrived with the usual rush, the anticipation of race day filling the air. She woke up to a sunlit room and a few messages on her phone, the familiar bustle of the paddock already beginning to take shape outside her window. As she moved around the room, preparing for the day ahead, her mind wandered back to the previous evening.

She stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair back into a sleek ponytail, glancing over her outfit choices. She’d packed a nice pair of fitted trousers and a smart blouse for the day. But then, as she opened her suitcase to grab something, she saw it—the shirt.

It was sitting on top of her suitcase, folded neatly, the soft fabric of his team’s shirt catching the light. The sight of it made her pause. She could feel a flutter of uncertainty in her chest as she stared at the shirt. It wasn’t like her to let herself be swayed by someone else’s request. But something about Franco, about the way he’d looked at her, made her reconsider.

She bit her lip, considering her options. The shirt was casual, simple, but it also felt like a statement. She could wear it for him, just this once, maybe just to see how it felt. There was no harm in that, right?

She grabbed the shirt, examining it for a moment. It was an understated design—his team’s logo in the corner, a soft fabric, nothing too flashy. It wasn’t the sort of thing she would normally wear, but for some reason, she felt drawn to it. And then it hit her—maybe it wasn’t about the shirt at all. It was about the confidence to wear it, to stand beside him and let the world see her as she was, without hesitation.

She had a moment of inspiration.

Instead of simply slipping it on with jeans like she’d imagined, she decided to give it a bit of a twist. She styled it with an oversized blazer, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off the shirt underneath, and a pair of high-waisted pants. The look was effortlessly cool, edgy, but still very much her. She paired it with a pair of sleek, minimalist sneakers, and, just before she finished, added a bold red lip to complete the ensemble.

When she looked in the mirror, she felt a sense of pride. It was a simple shirt, yes, but it was her way of wearing it. And somehow, it made her feel like she was making her own mark, not hiding behind anyone else’s expectations.

She grabbed her phone, checking the time, then sent Franco a quick message.

“I thought about it. I’ll wear the shirt. But only because it goes with my outfit.”

She added a playful winking emoji before hitting send, knowing that he’d appreciate the humour in it.

The morning was just beginning to pick up its pace as she finished getting ready. The weight of the day’s events, the race, the energy of the paddock, all began to settle in. But for the first time in a while, she felt a small sense of excitement, an eagerness she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t about the race itself, but about the people she was meeting, the connections she was making, and—perhaps most unexpectedly—what might lie ahead with Franco.

She was just about to head out of her hotel room when there was a knock on the door. She knew that knock—steady and familiar. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find her brother standing there, his usual calm exterior softened by a quiet intensity in his gaze.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, stepping back to let him in. She could tell he was a bit surprised when he saw the shirt she was wearing—the shirt of a rival team. He glanced at it, one brow raised slightly, but he didn’t comment, just closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall.

He took a deep breath, as if he’d been building up to this. “Are you… thinking of seeing him again?”

There was something tentative in the way he asked, a kind of brotherly concern that she hadn’t seen in a long time. She shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual. “Maybe. I’m considering it.”

He nodded slowly, looking away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then, almost hesitantly, he said, “Why are you okay with being seen with him, and not with me?”

The question landed heavily between them, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to answer. She looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his expression, the unspoken hurt in his eyes. It was rare for him to open up like this, to say exactly what was on his mind. She let out a long breath, searching for the right words.

“It’s different,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Different how?” he pressed, his tone gentle but persistent.

She met his gaze, feeling a lump rise in her throat. She hadn’t realised just how much this division had affected them both, how much it lingered in moments like these. “I never felt like I was a part of your world,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “It wasn’t just about you. It was Dad, too. He… he made it clear that I wasn’t cut out to be a part of it. I wasn’t… enough. Not like you.”

He looked at her, the quiet hurt in his eyes turning into something deeper, something sadder. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “How could you? You were busy making him proud. And you were great at it. I always saw how he looked at you, how proud he was of everything you were doing. He saw you as this… continuation of him, of his legacy. But me… I was never part of that.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he processed her words. “I never wanted it to be that way. I thought you just didn’t care about what we were doing. I thought you were happy doing your own thing.”

“I am,” she said, and she meant it. “Tennis is my world; it’s where I feel strong, where I feel like I belong. But… it didn’t come without sacrifices. I grew up watching you and Dad bond over racing, and it was like there was this door between us that was shut for good. I could watch, but I couldn’t be a part of it.”

There was a long pause, her brother absorbing her words, the weight of years of misunderstanding settling between them.

“I wish I’d known,” he said finally, his voice soft, tinged with regret. “I thought… I thought you didn’t want to be a part of it. I thought it didn’t matter to you if Dad and I had that bond. But I get it now. I see what it must’ve felt like, standing on the outside.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken years filling the space between them. And then he added, “You know, you don’t have to keep yourself hidden to be in my life, right? I get it now. But it doesn’t have to be like that.”

Her throat tightened, a wave of unexpected emotion rising within her. She’d spent so long feeling like an outsider in her own family, so sure that her brother had never noticed. But now, here he was, standing in front of her, wanting to bridge that gap.

“It’s hard to just undo it all,” she admitted. “Sometimes, it feels easier to just… stay on my own path. To keep these things separate.”

He nodded, understanding. “But if you’re thinking of seeing Franco… letting yourself be part of his world… doesn’t it mean you’re ready to be seen? To be yourself, even in places that are unfamiliar?”

She considered this, his words striking a chord deep within her. He wasn’t wrong. She’d spent so long hiding parts of herself, keeping herself separate to avoid comparison or judgement. But with Franco, she hadn’t felt the same need. For once, she had felt like she could be herself—no shadows, no expectations.

“I think… I just want to find something that’s mine,” she said finally. “A space where I’m not just ‘your sister,’ where I don’t have to carry someone else’s legacy.”

Her brother gave her a soft, understanding look. “You’ve already done that. You are more than just my sister. You’ve made a name for yourself that has nothing to do with anyone else. You’re not living in anyone’s shadow… but if you ever want to step into our world—my world—I’d like to be part of yours too. Just… let me be there for you, even if it’s only sometimes.”

She nodded, feeling a sense of warmth, a sense of connection that hadn’t been there before. Maybe there was room for both worlds, after all. For the first time, she felt like she didn’t have to choose.

“I’ll think about it,” she said softly, echoing her words from last night.

He smiled, a hint of relief in his eyes. “I hope you do.”

With that, he gave her a quick, reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, a wordless acknowledgment of the unspoken bond they shared. And as he left, she felt a sense of closure, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to keep running from her family’s legacy to be seen as her own person. She could walk her own path, even if it sometimes crossed into theirs.

She arrived at the paddock a little while later, weaving her way through the bustle of race day, her heart beating a little faster than usual. Wearing Franco’s shirt under her blazer felt like a small, bold choice—one that had her both excited and slightly nervous. She walked through the crowd until she reached his team’s garage, where the energy was already crackling with anticipation.

As soon as she stepped in, Franco spotted her from across the garage. His face lit up the second he saw her, and he immediately started making his way toward her. When he was close enough, he lowered his voice and said in Spanish, a playful gleam in his eyes, “Wait here for just a second. Don’t move.”

Before she could respond, he turned and jogged back toward his driver’s room, leaving her standing in the middle of the garage, a little bewildered but smiling to herself. She watched as he disappeared into the room, curious about whatever he was planning. Within a moment, he was back, holding a bouquet of flowers—a mix of deep red roses and bright sunflowers, their colours vivid against the greys and metallics of the garage.

“For you,” he said, handing them over with a grin, his accent warm and lilting. His eyes softened as he added, “To celebrate your first race day as my guest.”

She took the bouquet, feeling a rush of warmth as she held the flowers. “You know, you didn’t have to do this,” she said, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just here as… well, just as me.”

“And I think that’s worth celebrating,” he replied smoothly, his gaze locked on hers with unmistakable admiration. “Besides, you didn’t say no to the shirt, so I think I’m allowed a little celebration, no?”

She laughed, her cheeks warming as she looked down at the bouquet. “Alright, fine. You win. Thank you—they’re beautiful.”

Franco glanced around the garage, then leaned in slightly, dropping his voice to a playful murmur. “You know, you’re even more beautiful than I remember from last night. I thought maybe I was exaggerating, but… no. I wasn’t.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “Careful, or I’ll start to think you’re trying to distract me from the race.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, chuckling. Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, he looked around the garage again and spotted one of his engineers nearby. Franco gestured to the man, who quickly nodded, understanding exactly what Franco was after.

The engineer handed him a headset, and Franco turned back to her, holding it up. “Here—so you can listen in and watch from inside the garage. You’ll get the best seat here.”

She blinked, surprised by the gesture. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You’ll get to hear all the comms, see how it all works up close. Plus”—he leaned in, his voice low—“you’ll have an excuse to stay around here.”

She shook her head with a smirk, taking the headset from him. “Alright. But only because you’ve convinced me with flowers and shameless flattery.”

“Good,” he replied, his grin widening as he watched her settle the headset over her ears. “I’ll keep it coming if it means you stay.”

As the team began their pre-race preparations, Franco showed her the best spot to watch from, and he took a few moments to explain some of the technical details. She found herself captivated, not just by the race, but by the way he was so eager to share his world with her. His enthusiasm was infectious, and despite herself, she felt the thrill of race day in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Before he had to step away to start his own warm-up routine, he gave her one last look, his gaze holding a touch of that familiar mischievous glint. “Enjoy the show, princesa. And don’t go falling in love with the cars now—they’re not as charming as I am.”

She laughed, giving him a playful shove. “No promises.”

Franco winked, backing away with a grin as he joined the other drivers and team members preparing for the race. She stayed in the garage, feeling the weight of the headset and bouquet in her hands, both of them symbols of the way her world had shifted in just a few days.

As she watched him walk away, his words echoing in her ears, she realised just how different today felt. For the first time, she wasn’t just watching as an outsider; she was here, part of the energy, sharing a moment in his world, just as he’d promised. And maybe—just maybe—she was finally ready to be a part of something new.

The race was intense, the roar of engines filling the air as she watched Franco’s car weave through the track, making his way up from P16 to P12, gaining positions one by one with determined precision. Her heart raced with every turn, every overtake. She’d never felt the thrill of Formula One from this close before, and she found herself completely absorbed, balancing her attention between the live race and the screens in the garage that tracked every driver’s progress.

And then, in the final laps, her eyes moved to another part of the screen—a familiar car that was in the lead. A red car. Her brother was out front, defending his position with expert skill, pushing with everything he had toward the finish line. She held her breath, fingers tightening around the edges of the headset as she watched the seconds count down. When he crossed the finish line in first place, a feeling she hadn’t expected washed over her—pride, pure and radiant, filled her chest. She found herself clapping, cheering, a bright smile spreading across her face.

Franco, having just finished his own race and done the mandatory weigh-in and debrief with his engineers, finally found her in the garage. He looked exhausted but happy, his face still flushed from the adrenaline of the race. When he walked over, he paused, noticing the way her eyes were glued to the screen as her brother celebrated his victory, lifting his fists in the air in triumph.

“You’re glowing,” Franco murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her reaction.

She blinked, glancing back at him and realising how giddy she must look. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would feel like this. I’m just… so happy for him.” Her voice was breathless, filled with a genuine joy she couldn’t hide.

He chuckled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “Then you should go to him. He’s probably waiting for you.”

She shook her head, hesitating, her gaze flickering back to the screen. “No, I couldn’t. I don’t… I don’t belong over there, with everyone. That’s his world.”

Franco tilted his head, giving her a knowing look. “Maybe that’s true most days. But today, you belong there just as much as anyone else. He’s your brother. Go celebrate with him. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

She bit her lip, uncertainty still holding her back. “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Start with congratulations,” Franco said, flashing her a gentle, reassuring grin. “Trust me, it’ll be enough.”

He gestured toward the edge of the garage, where the barriers separated the track from the paddock. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, taking a shaky breath as he guided her forward. The crowd around them was roaring with excitement as her brother’s car was pulled into parc fermé, fans and teammates celebrating around him. She could feel her heart pounding, each step filling her with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

At the barrier, Franco gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Go on. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

With that, he released her hand, and she took a step forward, catching sight of her brother through the haze of people and cameras. He was laughing, practically glowing as he embraced his team, still basking in the thrill of his victory. And then, as if sensing her, he turned and saw her standing there, just beyond the barrier.

His expression softened, and a smile broke across his face, one that was filled with surprise and unmistakable happiness. Without a moment’s hesitation, he made his way over, reaching out to pull her into a tight, heartfelt hug. She hugged him back, feeling the last remnants of the old distance between them dissolve as she held her brother close, finally sharing in his moment.

When they pulled apart, he looked at her, pride shining in his eyes. “You came,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet gratitude. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

She laughed softly, tears threatening to sting her eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed it. I’m so proud of you.”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick, brotherly kiss to her forehead. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’re here. Really.”

As the team around them cheered and the cameras continued to flash, she felt the enormity of the moment—a sense of belonging, not just as a tennis player, or his sister, but as herself.

She grinned at her brother, reaching up to ruffle his hair in a rare show of sibling affection. “Te quiero mucho, hermanito,” she said, her voice filled with warmth and pride. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

His smile softened, and he looked at her with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Te quiero también,” he replied, wrapping her in one last quick hug. “Thank you for being here. Really.”

The moment was brief but profound, a quiet reassurance that, despite the different worlds they had each chosen, they were still connected. He glanced back toward his team, who were waving him over for post-race celebrations and interviews.

“I have to go,” he said, releasing her. “But I’ll see you later?”

“Of course,” she replied, giving him a nod and a small wave as he returned to his crew. She watched him for a moment longer, feeling a sense of pride she hadn’t felt in years—one that was entirely unclouded by the complexities of the past. Then she turned and made her way back toward Franco’s garage, her heart still racing from the intense energy of the day.

When she found him, Franco was waiting near the garage entrance, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a proud smile lighting up his face as he saw her approach.

“You did it,” he said softly, admiration in his eyes. “You finally let yourself be a part of all this.”

As she reached Franco, he turned to face her, his expression softening with a mixture of pride and relief as he took her hands in his. Her heart pounded, the intensity of the day lingering between them like a magnetic pull. She gazed up at him, her breath catching as she saw the warmth in his eyes—the genuine care and admiration there, as if he saw every part of her that she had worked so hard to keep separate.

Without a word, she stepped closer, her hand moving up to rest gently against his cheek. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze searching hers, as if waiting for her to close the last small gap between them. Finally, she leaned up, closing her eyes as her lips met his in a slow, lingering kiss.

The world around them seemed to dissolve, the roar of the crowd and bustle of the paddock fading as the kiss deepened. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, his touch both steady and tender. She felt the warmth of him seep into her, grounding her in the moment, and she responded instinctively, fingers threading through his hair as he held her tighter. There was a gentleness in his touch, but an undeniable passion too, a desire that built slowly between them.

Time slipped away as they shared this unguarded moment, the boundaries she had set for herself crumbling with every heartbeat. She could feel the strength in his arms, the quiet reassurance he offered, and a warmth that sparked through her, as if he was silently promising that he would be there, no matter what.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing a little harder, their foreheads touching as they lingered close, unwilling to step away. Franco’s thumb traced a gentle line along her jaw as he looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with an affection so deep that it nearly overwhelmed her. “I needed that push,” she murmured against his lips.

His arms came around her, but he laughed as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Come on,” he said with a teasing glint, “the cameras have probably caught enough kissing for one day.”

She chuckled, letting him lead her back toward the quiet of his garage, away from the noise and eyes of the crowd. For the first time, she felt an undeniable sense of belonging—not just to the world she had worked so hard to create for herself, but to this moment, with him, with her family. She’d finally allowed herself to be part of it all, and it felt right in a way she hadn’t expected.

the end.

[davinawritings]

How Different Monster Husbands Punish You For Being A Brat

Warnings: Sex, restraints, mentions of biting, mentions of knotting, cockwarming, edging

- Minotaur husband that punishes you by tying your hands behind your back when fucking. He knows how much you like to grab onto his horns when you fuck him and watching you struggle against your restraints pleases him greatly.

- Vampire husband that keeps you on the edge, his cock a slow drag through your wet walls. He bites gently at your neck all night but never sinks his fangs in. As dawn approaches you think he will finally grant you some relief but you are sorely mistaken when he pulls out and leaves you with nothing.

- Orc husband that stretches you out on his big cock but doesn’t let you move at all. No matter how much you cry and apologize, needing him to move, he refuses. Each time you try to move earns a smack to your ass, the skin becoming more raw and inflamed throughout the day. Anytime you finally calm down and start to doze off he gives you one hard thrust, jolting you awake and stimulating you just enough to have your cunt needy again.

- Tentacle monster husband that refuses to fill your cunt but uses his suckers to suction and overstimulate your nipples and clit until they are swollen and sore. The marks will be there for weeks as a reminder for you to behave.

- Dragon husband that hangs you from your lairs ceiling with gold chains, decorated with jewels. He keeps you suspended and at his mercy all day to play with as he pleases, a ruby ball gag keeping you quiet and obedient. His pretty little treasure.

- Werewolf husband that fucks you over and over but refuses to give you his knot. Tears stream down your face as you apologize and beg for it but he just tells you that you need to learn your lesson and brats don’t get rewards.

- Demon husband that binds you in a pentacle and makes you watch as he strokes his thick cock knowing you want nothing more that to taste and fuck it. Ignoring your cries as he releases his cum all over the ground instead of inside you where it belongs.

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

[gloomwitchwrites]

thinking about the 141 when you get nipple piercings and they can’t touch your nipples for four months

For clarity, I do not have my nipples pierced. Don't ever plan on it, but we can imagine that we did and what the guys think. I did do a little research, and I saw a wide variety of healing times, so instead of four months, I kept any mention of the healing process vague. The concept is the same though. I had a lot of fun with this one y'all. Enjoy it. :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in four double drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, brief dirty talk, suggestive themes, swearing, fade to black

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"You're not putting a shirt on."

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re at home. And I want to see them.”

“I’m putting a shirt on,”

John is quick, snatching the shirt out of your grasp. You start to protest, but John tosses it onto the highest shelf in the closet.

“You’re childish.” You gesture at the rest of the shirts on hangers. “And I have other shirts!”

John shrugs. “I’ll hide them all.”

"I fucking swear, John."

"Or tear them all up."

You smack his chest but John only chuckles. He’s having a go at you. A laugh.

"If I can't touch them, then I bloody well better be able to see them."

"You're ridiculous."

John carefully caresses a nearby path of skin near the piercing. "You got them for me," he purrs. "And I want to see them on display at all times." His hand settles on your waist, drawing you in. He leans in, lips lightly pressed to your ear. “Especially when my head is between your legs.”

Heat rapidly warms your neck, heading for your cheeks. John notices your sudden flustered demeanor.

“That sound good to you, love?”

You nod, and John guides you to the bed.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"I can't touch them?" asks Kyle, sounding disappointed.

"Nope."

"Not at all?”

“Eventually. But not right now.”

Kyle frowns at your chest, his gaze on the shiny metal. "Do they hurt?"

You wince slightly. "Mostly sore. The pain killers help."

Kyle nods and then glances up at your face. "How do you care for them?"

You rattle off a list of things and then hand him the paper the piercer gave you. Kyle takes it, looking it over as you go over everything, repeating it verbatim.

The small frown on his face turns into an upward smirk. "I can help with this,” he says, voice almost sultry.

"You can," you say slowly, taking the paper and placing it on the counter.

"So I can touch them. If I help.”

"Not in the way you're thinking, Kyle," you scold, knowing exactly where his mind is drifting off to.

"But I still get to touch them?"

"Only to help me,” you correct. “Not for any other reason.”

He sighs, voice a little breathy as he speaks to himself. “I can wait to suck on those gorgeous nipples.”

“Kyle Garrick! I heard that!”

He snags the paper off the counter, hiding his grin.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Am I?”

"I can't touch them?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No, Johnny. Not even a little bit."

Johnny lays on his side facing you with one elbow propped under him. He rests his head in his hand. Johnny’s gaze is locked on to your bare chest and the new metal there. The piercings are only a few days old, and they’re fucking sore.

"They're sensitive right now," you continue, wincing slightly when you move, adjusting the way you recline on the bed.

"Aye. I see," he murmurs, leaning closer, gaze narrowing as he focuses on your new piercings. The middle of his brow creases as if he's intensely considering something.

"What is it?" you ask. "You look very serious."

Johnny's gaze doesn't leave your chest. "I'm thinking about all the ways I'm going to play with those beauties."

Heat rushes to your face. “Be fucking for real right now.”

His mouth morphs into a sly smile. Johnny’s gaze shifts from your chest to your face. “Need a distraction?”

“What are you on about?”

Johnny shifts, forcing your legs open as he slots between them. “A distraction,” he purrs. “From your soreness. And my thoughts.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon stands behind you, watching you in the bathroom mirror from over your shoulder.

"Do you need help?" he asks, gaze unmoving.

"I'm fine, Simon."

He is quiet a moment before he speaks again. "I can’t touch them?"

"Not for a month. Possibly more. Healing is different for everyone."

You hear his annoyed grunt but his gaze doesn't leave you. It remains firmly planted on your newly pierced nipples.

"How sensitive are you?" he asks, taking a tiny step closer. Simon’s hand rests on your waist as you gently clean around the piercing.

"I’m sore. Nothing terrible."

Simon's head dips, lips pressing to your neck as his arms drape around you. "I can't touch them." It’s not a question, more like he’s speaking to himself.

"Nope,” you murmur.

Simon’s sigh has a hint of a growl in it. "Just means I'll have to give extra attention to everything else." His hands descend, and you bite back a groan as he touches you.

Simon's lips press to your ear. "I'll give you attention everywhere.” One hand comes up to trace a line near the piercing. “Except here.” His hand drops away, returns to between your legs. “You’ll be begging for me.”

taglist:

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@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[starryjake]

late nights | hyung line

in which your boyfriend gets horny in the middle of the night. *assume that the characters have given consent to sleep play in previous conversations.*

pairing: hyung line x fem!reader

includes: consensual sleep play, f receiving oral sex, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, handjob, thigh riding, dry humping (lmk if i missed anything).

heeseung ೃ࿐

his heart basically broke when he trudged into your shared bedroom in the middle of the night, finding you fast asleep in bed. he’d said he was almost done on his computer 3 hours ago. you wanted to wait up for him so you could go to bed together, but the time just kept passing and you were eventually too tired to even try.

heeseung sighed and pulled his shirt over his head before softly crawling into bed next to you, immediately pressing himself against your backside.

the minute he pressed himself against your warm, slack body, he got hard. he hadn’t realized how pent up he was, how badly he needed to fuck you until really feeling your body against his own.

he took a deep, shaky breath, wrapping his arm around your waist and sliding his hand under your shirt to feel your warm, smooth skin. feeling you bare made heeseung only that much harder, twitching against the fabric of his pajama pants.

he slid his hand down lower into your pajama bottoms, biting back a moan as he immediately started rubbing your clit, feeling the heat of your pussy around his fingers.

he needed you to get just as worked up as he was. he needed you to wake up and take care of his problem.

as he was rubbing your clit, he started pushing his hips into your ass, needing some kind of friction to help ease the ache just a little bit.

by that point, with heeseung practically dry humping you and fingering you at the same time, it was impossible to stay asleep.

“hee?” you mumbled out, turning your neck back to look at him.

“can i put it in, baby?” he asked you, placing his hand on your neck and kissing the corner of your lips. “be a good girl and let me fuck you back to sleep.”

you blinked up at him with wide, confused eyes that only made him want to fuck you even more.

“okay,” you agreed sleepily, turning your head back the other way comfortably on your pillow.

heeseung didn’t waste a second, hurriedly tugging your pants down, followed by his. he didn’t even bother taking them all the way off, just enough to expose your hole and for his cock to come out.

he spread his pre-cum around his shaft, jerking himself off for a minute before lining himself up with your hole, which had gotten wet while you were sleeping.

he pushed in and groaned in relief at the sensation of your tight, warm walls wrapped around his needy cock. you closed your eyes, you head still hazy from sleep, but heeseung’s constant sharp thrusts were slowly beginning to wake you up fully.

“i tried to wait for you,” you sighed out, intertwining your fingers with his in front of your stomach. “i wanted you to fuck me before sleep, not during.”

“i know, angel,” he grunted, his hips moving rapidly in and out of you. “i’m so sorry, my baby. i’m here now.”

you moaned softly, tilting your head back against his chest. the sound of his pelvis hitting your lower back constantly filled the room, mixed with the sounds of both your heavy breathing.

both of your sensations were heightened from the late hours of the night so it took no time at all for you to be cumming at the same time. <3

jay ೃ༄

you were just too tired.

you were so excited to have a chill night in with your boyfriend. you guys had a nice dinner together and were gonna end the night cuddled on the couch watching a movie. but, about 10 minutes into the movie, you fell asleep.

in your defense, you had a busy day. you had an early morning lecture followed by a 7 hour shift. of course you were tired. jay knew this, and that was why he was not surprised in the slightest to have suddenly felt your body relax and go slack in his arms, signifying that you’d fallen asleep.

you were laying between his legs, your back and head resting against his chest. he was playing with your hair, but stopped once you’d fallen asleep.

“baby?” he spoke, but no answer came.

he sighed, pondering what to do.

and then he realized, feeling your warm body asleep on him, he’d sprung an erection. he felt guilty immediately for getting turned on when you were so tired, so stressed from school and work.

he wanted to help you, to take away your stress.

he snuck his arm around your waist, resting his hand on your pelvis. his mind was still racing, debating whether or not he should do what he really wanted to do with you right now.

fuck it, he thought.

he slid his hand down into your sweatpants, rubbing your pussy over your panties. he could feel your little clit and he could feel as your panties got damp the more he rubbed it.

“my poor thing,” he gushed, moving your panties to the side so he could rub you bare. “you just need to feel good.”

you were completely asleep still, having no idea that jay was gathering your slick from your hole and spreading it between your folds and up to your clit. as sound asleep as you were, jay was surprised that you were so wet, practically leaking fluid and dripping down your legs.

he rubbed your clit in circles for a few minutes before he decided he wanted you awake to feel it. so, he slid his middle finger into your eager hole, knowing that it would wake you, and it did.

your eyes opened, and you looked down at jay’s hand in your pants, his single finger massaging your walls.

“mmm,” you moaned, leaning your head back on his hard chest. “fuck, jay.”

“i know, baby,” he cooed. “put your legs on my thighs.”

you did as you were told, spreading your legs and putting your feet on either one of his thighs. he helped you get your pants and underwear off, leaving your lower half bare in his lap, and he kept fingering you.

your pussy made a wet squelching sound every time he thrusted his fingers in and out, but you were too tired to be embarrassed. plus, it felt too good, so good that your stomach was warm and you could tell you already going to cum.

“jay,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly. “im gonna—”

you cut yourself as you began to cum, a little gush of fluid spurting around his fingers and splattering on his sweatpants. he fingered you through it, his cock harder than ever from how hard you’d cum.

“that’s it, baby,” he cooed. “keep squirting around my fingers.”

jake ੈ✩‧₊˚

jake cursed himself for still having the most vivid, dirty sex dreams at his grown age. he woke up in a cold sweat, finding that his room was pitch black dark and you were sleeping soundly beside him, which only made his problem worse.

you looked so pretty when you slept. your face was peaceful, your cheeks slightly pink, your shirt having risen up on its own, exposing a sliver of your stomach. that sliver was turning jake on a hell of a lot more than it should’ve been.

he tossed and turned for a few minutes, genuinely trying to fall back asleep while ignoring how hard he was, ignoring how tight his pants were and how a droplet of precum was trickling down the length of his cock.

he gave it five minutes before giving up and attaching himself to your body. he kissed your neck, hoping that alone would wake you up, but you truly were out like a light.

he laid on his stomach, softly gripping your calves to pull your legs apart. he tugged on the waistband of your sleep shorts and pulled them carefully down your legs, then spread your legs once more, revealing your pussy.

jake felt his cock pulsate just from looking at it, needing it in his mouth immediately or he might’ve just lost his mind.

he didn’t tease, didn’t take his time. he went straight in for it, firmly licking a stripe up from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit.

he moaned at the taste, desperately going back in for a second lick. you shifted a little, slowly beginning to wake up from the feeling of jake eagerly licking your pussy.

“jake,” you muttered, sitting up slightly to see what he was doing.

he barely could even comprehend that you’d woken up, now so entranced in eating your pussy and grinding his cock into the mattress.

you could’ve stopped him. you could’ve told him he could fuck you if that was what he needed, but it was too hot to watch. you were enjoying the sight of him between your legs, humping his cock into the bed, too much.

so you laid back down, shut your eyes, and enjoyed your boyfriend eating you out until you were cumming on his face and he was cumming in his pants.

sunghoon ༊*·˚

how? how were you fast asleep right now when the ac in your apartment was broken and your bedroom was a million degrees?

sunghoon stared at your sleeping form in dismay. he was sweating and unbelievably uncomfortable, stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers, but even then he was still too hot.

you also weren’t wearing much to sleep: a pair of panties and a thin tank top. sunghoon couldn’t help but stare because looking at you and how sexy you looked in your minimal clothing was a distraction from how hot he was.

and as he stared at where your cunt was beneath your panties and your breast that was on the verge of slipping out of your tank top, he got hard. really hard.

an idea came to his head: that if he just jerked off really quick, he’d get tired enough to be able to fall asleep.

so, he pulled his cock out from his boxers and started to stroke himself while staring at you. you’d probably be startled if you were to wake up and see him watching you, but he didn’t care. he wished you were awake to suffer through the heat with him.

a few minutes of jerking his cock off and it wasn’t doing the trick. he needed you, it was as simple as that.

“baby,” he muttered, rubbing your arm. “wake up.”

you shifted slightly and he grabbed your wrist, positioning your hand over his cock.

“please,” he begged, twitching in your limp hand. you couldn’t even wrap your fingers around him, still half asleep. “wake up, y/n. i need you.”

you opened your eyes, frowning when you were met with your own hand wrapped around sunghoon’s cock.

“what are you—”

“please make me cum,” he urged, fucking his hips up into your hand. “i’m gonna go crazy, y/n, please.”

you started to glide your hand up and down his cock, to which sunghoon sighed out in pleasure and relief. it was already feeling 10 times better than when he’d done it.

“fuck,” he moaned. “come here.”

he patted his bare thigh, urging you to sit on it. you moved slowly, still sluggish from sleep, but you straddled his thigh and started humping your pussy against him as your hand worked his cock.

“oh my god,” he groaned, putting his arms behind his head and watching you. “you’re so perfect, baby. so fuckin’ hot.”

you whimpered slightly, your clit rubbing against his thigh just right.

you took a second to let a string of spit trickle out of your mouth and land on the pink tip of his cock, using it as lubrication to easily glide your hand up and down.

squeezing his cock and pushing your cunt against his leg, you were both set up to cum quickly.

sunghoon’s load was big and splattered in ropes all over his warm stomach, while you shook and clenched around his thigh, pussy coming undone on him.

-

ok so im twitching! 💗

thanks for reading :3

[tjwritesfanfics]

Stupid (Spencer Reid)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You wanted his attention. Now you had it.

Rating: Mature 18+ only

Warnings: Public sexiness, Reid is a meanie and uses a bullet vibrator, oral (m receiving), degrading, public sex, unprotected sex (guys plz be safe), Reid curses (it is a warning so don't even)

Words: 1.2k

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

AN: This story is mainly for @reidgif I hope you like it!

The buzzing sounds was satisfying to Spencer’s ears. Though not as much as your whimpers and quiet moans.

His fingers play with the feel of the remote of the bullet vibrator in his hand, eyes glued to the case file that he was reviewing.

“Spencer…”

“I am not moving. I told you earlier when you decided to so desperately get my attention and be a brat in front of the others, that you were going to be punished.” His dark eyes flicked from the report to where you were standing by the suspect board. “Now you need to keep working or we will never get to go back to the hotel.”

You let out a sob but turned back to the white board and lifted your hand to shakily write something on it. You knew that when you dragged Spencer on a “lunch break” only to want to eat him.

“Oh fuck,” Spencer moaned, his hands gripping your hair as he guided your head up and down his cock, “you are going to be in so much trouble later, you fucking inpatient slut.”

All you could do was moan around him, not caring at the moment what was coming later. All you wanted was him. To feel him. The taste of him on your tongue.

Your eyes met his, teary and cheeks hollowing out, propelling him towards his climax until he came in your mouth, giving you the “lunch” you wanted.

Now here you were, in a (thankfully) empty precinct, underwear sitting on the table and a bullet vibrator inside you going at a slow steady pace. 

There would be times you would get used to the slow vibration, thinking you could work peacefully, but Spencer was attuned to you and would crank the dial higher, dropping you to your knees in a moaning mess, the pulsing pushing your close and closer to a high you so desperately wanted, one you had been denied for an hour now, only for him to quickly turn it back to the dull buzz.

“I think he is specifically targeting women with blonde hair.” You were able to squeak out something, surprised with yourself that you were able to make it through the sentence without losing yourself.

Spencer let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver up your spine since he was much closer then he was before. When did he get up?

“I can’t believe this has rendered you this stupid,” His finger bumps up the vibration once, a whimper escaping your throat, “since that was something we already knew. Anyone with eyes could tell that they are all blondes.”

“B but-”

“Don’t you even finish that sentence.” Spencer rolled his eyes, stepping back from you and started moving some of the papers from the conference table. “I don’t want to hear it from a crybaby like you. You are so lucky you are so cute because if I had known how stupid you were, I would have just done this myself.”

You knew he didn’t mean the words he was saying, but right now you almost did believe him. You were so horny and wet that it didn’t matter about the case, as horrible as that may seem.

“I might as well get something out of being here with you. Get over here and bend over.”

If you were in your right mind, you would have been embarrassed with how fast you complied with his order. The coolness of the conference table feels amazing against the flush of your skin.

Spencer let out a cruel laugh at your eagerness, but didn’t say anything. No, instead he cracked the bullet up as far as it could go.

A scream ripped from you, the feeling a blessing and a curse, driving you physically up the conference table and sensually closer to your end. Your legs shaking and the only thing holding you up was Spencer’s hand on your lower back, his gentle touch contrasting with the harshness of his actions and words.

“God look at you. Crying from how good that feels huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? My attention? Well guess what you fucking slut,” He leaned in close, his weight pressing you into the table, his sent filling your head, “You have it.”

Whines and cries fill the room, the best thing Spencer has ever heard as you finally are forced to let go of the tension coiling in your gut. Curses flying past your lips as well as his name.

If anyone just so happened to come into the precinct now, they would know exactly what was happening and who was making you feel this good.

Spencer pulled the bullet out of your cunt by the string, throwing it behind him and not even bothering to turn it off. Slumping against the table, bliss completely deafening you to the sound of Spencer undoing his belt.

Next thing you knew your leg was being lifted up to rest on the table and the blunt head of his cock was pressing into you, one swift thrust filling you to the brim.

“Oh shit!” You cry, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks.

Spencer groaned, his lips coming to kiss the back of your neck and up to your ear, his facial hair lightly tickling you. “You are so wet. Feels so good.”

That was the nicest thing he has said to you all day.

Drawing back just enough for his tip to be the only thing inside, you could feel his smirk and knew that the one kind word was the only thing you were getting out of him tonight. He snapped his hips, driving completely into you again.

He repeated this over and over, harsher with each thrust he drove into you. It was so good that all you could do was moan and drool against the table.

His laugh filled the room alongside the other sounds. “Look at you! So cockstupid that you would let me do absolutely anything I wanted. Who’s pussy is this?”

When you didn’t, couldn’t, answer him, Spencer gripped your hair, tugging you back to him and the new angle had him hitting that spot that made you see spots.

“Answer me. Come on. I know you can do it. Who’s. Pussy. Is this?” He accentuated every word with a deep thrust into you.

“Yours! Spencer, all yours!”

“Good girl.”

His thrusts continued assaulting you, pressing and pushing you into the table and into him. All you could feel was Spencer. All you could care about at the moment was Spencer.

“Oh shit.” He cursed, his blunt nails digging into your hips as he cums, painting your walls white.

Spencer stilled for a moment. You whimper and wiggle your hips for him, silently begging him to continue since you were so close. But you should have seen this next part coming. Didn’t make it any less horrible when he pulled out of you and stuffed himself back into his pants.

“No!” You cry. “Please please Spencer!”

“I’m tired and going back to the hotel. You coming?”

He smirked and you glowered at his double entendre. “Yes I am.”

“Not without me, my stupid girl.”

With that Spencer grabbed your panties, showing you that he was not even going to let you put them back on, and strode out of the conference room.

“Brats don’t get to cum. Maybe you will learn.”

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[norrisainz33]

the call pt 2 || platonic grid & gr63

summary: y/n finishes out the triple header strong after being called up to race for alpine

pairing: platonic!grid x george russell x rookie!driver!reader

fc & warnings: none and minor hate comments, bad language, and bad grammar from my end

a/n: i've never had this many people request a part 2 before so i hope y'all enjoy!! I'm going to keep her racing in the remainder of the season so keep an eye out for the rest.

part 1

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by pierregasly, ynuser, yourbff, yoursibling, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 876,234

alpinef1team: a point in the bag for pierre and another good drive for y/n 💼

view all 435 comments

user2: solid result for the team!!! y/n ate in her second race ever

user99: a team of losers tbh

ynuser: yay for points! let’s go pierregasly

pierregasly: we go again in brazil! points for both of us there 😉

ynuser: everyone better make sure to bet on us 🙂‍↔️

yourbff: let’s go best friend(s)!!!!

ynuser: 🫶🏻

georgerussell63: great stuff ynuser

ynuser: thanks georgie

user1: notice how he is always supporting her…. is there something here?

user2: they’ve been friends since their karting days!! if you asked me back when they were in f2 if they were tg i would’ve said yes bc they were kinda sus but now idk

user1: gonna go research the lore on their f2 days

✿

you let out a huff as you threw your padel racket on the ground and wiped the sweat from your brow, “god dammit lance! how are you so good at this!?”

laughing lance shrugged, “maybe you and george are just really bad!”

george shook his head, “no mate that can’t be it!”

you took a long drink of your water as the pair continued to bicker. “did you both see the weather for the weekend?” you asked changing the subject so they’d stop.

“yeah, lots of rain it seems.” lance put his racket into his bag and looked up at you with concern. “have you raced in the rain before?”

you shook your head, “no not really. i mean when i was karting yes but outside of that not really.”

“blimey y/n/n,” george ran a hand through his hair. “you’ve been going over those scenarios with your team right? there’s a chance of some really heavy rain.”

“i have, i have. i’ll be ok!” you assured them both with a smile but your friends looked anything but reassured.

✿

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user2: jesus christ you’re so hot

user4: im obsessed with you holy f

georgerussell63: green is a good color on you. tho i think mercedes blue is better

ynuser: you mean alpine blue and pink

georgerussell63: nah i’d like to see you in my colors

ynuser: oh?

georgerussell63: you heard me

francocolapinto: 👀

ynuser: and you’re coming to play with us next time yea?

francocolapinto: si bonita

yourbff: H O T

ynuser: thanks bb

ynuser: also i think george might be flirting in my dms rn?

yourbff: WHAT?!

ynuser: he said he wants to see me in his mercedes kit

yourbff: oh that’s 🤭

landonorris: you look tall here

ynuser: thanks shortie 🩷

landonorris: uncalled for

user5: thanking your parents for doing it tbh

✿

holding in a yawn you turned to walk back to your garage after the brazilian national anthem. the 5am wake up for this ‘super sunday’ as they were calling it was catching up with you despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. you had had the qualifying session of your life, which despite the cool confidence you played it off with in your interviews after, shocked you just as much as it shocked everyone else. you qualified in 4th. yes, you read that right, p4. something about the car came alive in the rain and you prayed it came alive again during the race but the rain was starting to pick up and it seemed like it was only going to get worse. you’d already seen several red flags in quali and would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t terrified that that was about to become you in the race.... especially with the threat of the entire field behind you, including max verstappen, wanting to push forward and push forward fast regardless of the consequences.

“y/n!” a hushed voice caught your attention. george had caught up to you and had a serious look on his face. “please be careful out there,” he pleaded.

“you too george,” you squeezed his arm lightly. “i’ll see you on the podium, yeah?"

"yeah," george winked as you turned to head into the alpine garage.

your engineer, james, handed you your helmet as he went over a few more pieces of data. he was stressing over the litany of different plans the team had put together in the very short window between quali and now. the heavy rain and your heroic lap times caused just about everything your team had prepped to be turned upside down.

“right, right i’ve got it james. plan a seems the most logical if i can keep everyone behind me.” you said as you pulled your helmet onto your head and fastened the strap.

things were about to get interesting.

✿

f1 has made a post

liked by alpinef1team, yourbff, yoursibling, yourfriend, ynupdates and 435,725 others

f1: the race is stopped under the red flag for a crash….. and y/n y/l/n is our new race leader! after running a surprisingly strong p4 for the first half of the race, she took the lead when those in front pitted for new tyres. y/n is the only woman in history to lead a lap in a grand prix

view all 432 comments

user1: not them calling her performance surprising 🥴

user2: I KNOW THATS RIGHT!

user12: only gonna last a second. she can’t even compete with the likes of verstappen

alpinef1team: @ everyone behind, y/n.. can we pretty please keep it this way?

yourbff: real tears are being shed rn this is monumental

user9: god is this amazing

mercedesamgf1: we love to see this historical moment! even if we’re coming to take it back 😉

user11: literally the most amazing thing i’ve seen all day

✿

you ripped another tear off from your helmet wishing it would make it easier to see but to your dismay, you still couldn’t see a damn thing. the rain was coming down in buckets, your inters were worn, you were fighting the car even in the straight lines to keep it on the track and worst of all, you were scared shitless. you had no moment to even be happy about your current position in p1 because you were too busy trying not to send your car into the barrier.

“max is 2 seconds behind you and gaining very quickly. gasly is 1.2 seconds behind max and leclerc is 0.9 behind pierre.” james updated you on the radio which sent you into a fit of rage.

“james for fucks sake i don’t care!!! stop giving me timing updates!! i can’t see the road so i can’t do anything about it!!!” you almost screamed. "i can't even pass half throttle!"

“rain is expected to lighten in about 10 laps,” james reported ignoring your outburst.

“10 LAPS?! how am i supposed to survive 10 laps?!?!?” as you yelled you felt the rear of your car start to slide causing you to need to quickly snap it back into place. “there is so much standing water james - i can’t keep doing this. the front straight is like a swimming pool!”

“yes you can, y/n. lock in and calm down. you only have a couple of laps left in this class of rain.”

“lock in? calm down!? and what if i crash this damn car first?!” turning off your radio you tried to take a few deep breaths while focusing on the road in front of you. you couldn’t panic - that would only make matters worse. you had to stay calm. you knew your car, you knew to deviate off the racing line to avoid the slippery curbs in specific turns, and you knew that you had to make it through whether you wanted to or not. panicking was not going to help anyone but there was little way to explain just how scary it was on track at this current moment.

another snap of significant oversteer left you breathless and near tears. “james im so serious - i need wets and even then i don’t think they’re going to be enough. there's standing water on every part of this track. i can't race like this on these tyres. please talk to fia. please we need a red flag.”

“pitting doesn’t make sense right now, you’ll come out in traffic and your race will be over.”

“i care more about making it out of this race alive than coming out in traffic.”

“understood.”

✿

✿

“they couldn’t have taken any longer with that red flag could they?” you snapped as you pulled your race suit down to your hips.

“no they really couldn’t have! it was getting ridiculous out there.” pierre grabbed his water bottle, "driving couldn't have been more dangerous."

“alright you two! thats enough!" your team principal interrupted, looking very serious. "we have a real chance of keeping this double podium finish especially because george and lando pitted before this red flag and lost a lot of time," he explained. "y/n, you’re going to have to push, there’s not much chance you’ll be able to keep max behind you but we’ve got to be fast enough to keep george, charles and lando behind pierre.”

right... keep 3 of the fastest drivers on the grid behind you both.. you were going to need a real stroke of luck.

✿

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by yourbff, yoursibling, ynupdates, rubendias, jackhughes, robmcelhenney, and 843,124 others

alpinef1team: THEY DID IT!!! Y/N AND PIERRE CROSS THE LINE AS P2 AND P3! HISTORY MADE

✿

"thats p2 y/n - great job! the entire team and i are so fcking proud of you."

"AHHH YES YESSSSSSS!!!!" you screamed into the radio, banging your hands against the steering wheel, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT JAMES!!" the emotions hit you like a brick wall, and tears quickly began falling. "thank you all so much. thank you for this opportunity. thank you to the mechanics, to everyone back at the factory, to every single one of you. thank you for believing in me when no one else did."

"you're welcome, y/n. you deserve it. you deserve it all kid."

pierre rolled up next to you to drive the remainder of the cool down lap by your side. he waved excitedly and you waved back without hesitation - you both had achieved what felt like the impossible.

you were the first woman to ever stand up on the podium and you were the first woman to score points in formula 1, but you knew you certainly weren't going to be the last. if you would do anything with your remaining races, it would be to show the world just how much women belong in this sport.

you pulled into parc ferme and shut off your car as quickly as you could. you fumbled with your straps and when you finally got them off, pierre was standing above you with his hand held out. you smiled, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull you out of the car. "we did it, p -" you said just loud enough for him to hear over the cheering.

"we did it, y/n/n." pierre replied and with that, you both turned and ran hand in hand to your team who was waiting with open arms to greet their heroes.

✿

ynuser has made a post

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, pierregasly, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 943,124 others

ynuser: we did it 🩷 thank you to alpine for believing in me, thank you to pierre for being the best teammate a girl could ask for, thank you to my friends and family for supporting me through the ups and the downs and thank you to my fans -- i love you all so much

view all 999 comments

user1: i've never shed so many tears over a race before

yourbff: i feel like a proud parent rn

ynuser: thanks for never giving up on me bestie

georgerussell63: you're a force to be reckoned with y/n. congratulations on an impressive drive! today is your day 🤍

ynuser: mark your calendars! 11/3 is national y/n day

landonorris: speechless... i am so proud of you. if someone had to be up there besides me, i'm so glad it was you 😉

ynuser: thank you lanny. only thing that would have made it better is if you were with me up there 🩷

user10: tea LOL

francisca.cgomes: i dont think i've ever been happier?? my two favorite people are on that podium?

ynuser: stop dont make me cry agAIN

pierregasly: thankful for you mon ami

ynuser: 🤍🩷

lewishamilton: being a barrier breaker is never easy y/n but you are crushing it. i am proud to race with you!

ynuser: you have no idea how much this means to me lewis

user9: thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to prove everyone wrong

user95: nothing could have prepared me for 1) them running hand and hand to their team, 2) y/n crying tears of joy on the podium and 3) gr63 picking y/n up and twirling her around in parc ferme

user2: george and y/n were so cute it was actually sickening. did you see the way he fixed her hair after putting her down

user95: and how he wiped away her tears??? yeah i saw it 🥹

user2: i want them together so bad

user10: you are going down in the history books

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!!! likes, feedback and reblogs are welcome!! massively appreciate all of the support on this little series. i am really enjoying it too

tag list from part 1: @yawn-zi @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @divagreymare @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ferakillia @stressed-cherry @sassyangel16 @mxdi0 @awritingtree @danielricciardoslut3 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @seasonswinter @rawr-123s-stuff @grussellsprout @belncaldern @ellelabelle @rafeyybabyy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[sissyslutsusan]

I met this older dominant man the other night at a trans club. He and some younger men kept hitting on me and buying me drinks, one after the other. And the more I drank the bolder and looser I became. Sitting at a high top table wearing a tight little black dress with my nyloned legs crossed, and 6" heels, I could see showing these guys some leg was definitely turning them on. I started grabbing their cocks through the pants, rubbing their asses, dancing with them, and being very flirtatious. One of the younger guys was kissing my neck, and another guy was hugging me from behind. The third younger guy had his had on my legs and kept trying to go under my dress. It was getting very busy at my table and I was having a hard managing so many men. I can be a little bitch sometimes so I was somewhat sarcastic and saucy with them. So, I was a bit drunk and felt if I was going to leave with one of these guys I would be safer going with the older guy. We went out to his car and the first thing he says is let's get a motel room. I didn't want to lose my virginity in his car If necessary, I could always perform oral sex on him which I had done many times with different men at these clubs. OMG! It wasn't long before he was all over me, grabbing me, grabbing my tits and ass, he was acting crazy! It was like he got a second wind, and I was wondering if I left with the right guy! He grabbed my hand and placed it on his outer pants so I could feel his cock. Even though I hadn't seen it yet I knew then it was big and very hard. I started jacking him off and he quickly unzipped his pants and pulled his big cock out. It was huge and very thick. I thought I could jack him off and that would be the end of it but he grabbed my head and forced it down onto his big veiny hard cock. I knew there was no way to stop him now so I started licking and sucking his big dick. I lapped the mushroomed looking head and could taste precum oozing from the head of his cock. I started bobbing my head up and down and at the same time stroking his shaft and playing with his balls. He was really horny because it didn't take him long to ejaculate sperm into my mouth and down my throat. He forced his cock so deep down my throat I gagged a bit and was choking on all the cum he pumped down my throat. This video is literally the way he treated me! It felt like I was his personal little whore! He slapped me, used two fingers to pull my mouth open wider, choked me, stuck his tongue into my mouth and kissed me passionately, then spit into my mouth, he hiked my little black dress up, ripped my pantyhose, and played with my ass and clitty. His hands were big and very strong. He made me cum in my panties. His hand was full of my cum when he told me to start licking! The inside of my mouth was coated in his cum and drying on the corners of my lips where some of his semen had leaked out. I didn't really want both of our cum coating my inner mouth. He then forced his cum covered hand into my mouth without even asking me or giving me a chance to say no. He was twisting my body like a pretzel in all kinds of ways! It was like I was a contortionist. Once he flipped me onto my back I thought for sure he was going to fuck me because he removed my panties. But he couldn't really get buy his console because it was too high. So he then spun me so I was sideways in the car, pushed me forward, hiked my dress up, and started slapping my ass really hard! So hard and for so long I had bruises on it when I got home! All of these things went on for at least an hour in his car. I was completely worn out and he had so much energy and was so strong there wasn't much I could do to prevent this from getting out of control. He could have done anything he wanted to me and I would have had to give in to him. After I got back into my car I felt relieved he didn't make me suck his cock again because it was very hard as I was leaving. He really abused me and made me his whore for the night.....I can't wait to see him again! <smile>

[starkeysprincess]

Duuuude ugh I thought about what it would look like with stepbro!rafe making you cum for the first time cause you told him you’d feel funny sometimes so you’d try to get off but then it felt like you had to pee and you’d stop and the innocence he’d get off on…

-like I can see him at the start of your fucked stepsibling relationship him just liking to grope and fondle you and then one day when he’s stressed he just needs something to smack and rough up so he calls for you “you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?”

-once he has you over his lap spanking and gripping you while he watches TV, you’re getting wet and tell him you feel funny and never really felt what happened after cause you were scared and so he points out his bulge under your lower tummy “you did that sweet baby. get that empty head working and see if you can figure out what you need” and before you know it he’s helping you grind on his lap, talking you through it, praising and degrading you until you finally feel your first orgasm. “You wanna feel that again, you come to me, I’ll take care of you, princess, but head upstairs, now I gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother”

warnings: stepcest, spanking, dry humping, reader is 18+

he practically uses your ass like a stress ball, whether squeezing and kneading the fatty flesh or giving it a harsh smack whenever you’re nearby; he just can’t help himself, especially when he was under immense stress. "rafey?" your voice called out, entering his bedroom when you heard him call your name. his hand encircled your wrist, pulling you further into his room, and locked the door.

"what's wrong?" you frowned, noticing the distressed look on his face. "nothing your pretty little head needs to worry about, alright? i'm just stressed, s'all," your stepbrother murmured.

"is there anything i could do to help?"

rafe didn't have to think twice at your question, "mhm, i have a whole lot of stress to relieve. you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?". his fingers play with the ends of your hair, sensing your hesitation, “c’mon, princess. you wouldn’t want your stepbrother to be stressed, would you?” he faux pouted. you shook your head, "no, i wanna help you if i can.".

"yeah? you're such a good girl. always wanting to make me feel better, huh?" he licked his lips, sitting on the edge of his bed before pulling you to lay across his lap. his hand ran up the back of your thigh to the hem of your oversized shirt, pushing it till it bunched around your waist, revealing your perfectly plump ass.

��missed this sweet little ass,” he groaned, kneading the soft flesh. a small yelp slips from your lips when his large palm harshly lands on your ass, making your body jolt forward.

you could feel the band of his ring leaving an impression on your sensitive skin with each delivered smack. your skin felt hot, the stinging sensation slowly fading into pleasure as he alternated between slapping and massaging your red, swollen ass. you squirm in his lap, your panties soaked and sticking to your cunt. “what’s got you squirming, hm?” rafe teased, his hands gripping your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to see a wet patch seeping through the thin material.

“oh, you like this, huh? i could tell by how much of a mess you’re making, ruining these pretty little pink panties,” he chuckled. “rafe…” you whine, your cunt pulsing with need. he bucks his hip, his bulge pressing against your lower tummy, “feel that? s’all cause of you sweet girl. need you to get that pretty little head working and see if you can tell me what you need.”

“i-i don’t know,” you stammered, “you don’t know? you and i both know that’s a load of shit,” rafe tsks.

"guess i have to show you what you need then, huh?" he chuckles, pulling you up till you're straddling his lap. his hands find your hips, holding them steady as he guides you to rut against his lap. he grins to himself, licking his lips when he hears your breath hitch in your throat as his bulge grinds against your clothed cunt, "feels good, yeah?".

you nod weakly, burying your face into his shoulder, encouraging rafe to push and pull your hips back and forth. you press your face further into his shoulder, muffling the small moans that slip from your lips, "that's it, keep making those sounds. let me hear how good it feels," rafe cooed. his palms slide to your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave bruises, his own hips bucking to meet each roll of your hips.

a sharp gasp erupts from your throat when your clit bumps where the tip of his cock rests, making your body squirm, and your hips start to roll against his. "there you go, just like that...show me how much of a desperate little slut you are," rafe groans, grinding himself harder against you, matching your rhythm.

"please..." you whine, trying to halt your movements as you feel an unfamiliar tightening in your lower belly. "shh, just let it happen, sweet girl. s'okay, i got you," rafe reassures, his grip on your hips tightening.

rafe buries his face into the side of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, “c’mon, baby. cum f’me, want you to show me how much you need me.”. you cry out against his shoulder, your cunt clenches around nothing as your orgasm washes over you.

your body slumps forward into his chest, your breath tickling his neck as you pant for air. rafe's thumbs rubbed soothing circles onto your hips, “good girl, you did so good.".

"hey, look at me," he rasps, his hand intertwining in your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at him. "if you ever wanna feel that again, you come to me, understand? i'll take care of you, okay?" he brushed your hair out of your face.

"okay," you whisper, nodding in response. "good...now i gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother. can you do that for me?" .

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Touch Yourself

Pairings - Drew Starkey x Female!Reader

Summary - based of a scene in love lies and bleeding.

Warnings - finger fucking, vibrators 18+

You stood in the bathroom, brushing your teeth as you stared back at yourself in the all too big mirror. Bending your neck left and right until a small crack traveled up, loosening the knot that kept forming.

You had been stuck at your desk all day, writing your second book. Ideas had started to fade and motivation was nowhere in sight, deciding it was time for sleep you made your way to the bathroom.

Drew was due home any minute, working late on the set of his upcoming movie. You had planned to be awake when he got home but the tiredness had become overwhelming and your eyes blurred from the laptop screen.

Just as you bend over the sink to wash your mouth out the front door slams closed and you jump at the intrusion of noise, Drew’s walking through the threshold of the bedroom seconds later. Throwing his bag onto the chair, his eyebrows are creased together in annoyance. “Babe?” You call out, his eyes meet yours through the mirror and his facial features soften. Pulling his shirt over his head he begins walking towards you.

He crowds your space, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his face into your neck. “You okay?” You question, enjoying the closeness of your boyfriend. You both didn’t get much time together anymore as he was always filming or you were busy in meetings for your book. “Just missed you” he mumbles into your neck, his lips kiss at your sensitive spot sending shivers up your spine. “I missed you too”.

You go to turn around but he holds you in place, running his hands down the length of your arms and moving them up above your head, pressing your palms against the mirror in front of you. “Wha-” you cut yourself off as his hands slip under your shirt, tickling your stomach and skimming under your breasts. His eyes flick to yours for a moment silently asking for approval, you press your ass into his crotch and he palms your tits. “I've been hard all day for you” he groans, you're now realizing the hardness pressed into your ass is his cock and not his belt.

You stay silent as his hands wander your body, he kisses your shoulder blades and drops to his knees behind you. Lifting your oversized shirt to your waist, taking a soft bite to your ass cheek and then kissing the teeth marks. “I want to touch you baby.. I want to stretch you out, see how far I can take you” he groans, slipping his hands between your legs and pushing them apart to give himself room. “You want that baby? Want me to play with you?”

“Yeah” you breathe, watching him through the mirror. He pulls down your panties and presses his palm into your lower back. Your hands slide from the mirror to grip the faucet, your pussy on display for him now. He presses a kiss to your wet lips and runs a finger through your folders. You watch as he sucks on his finger and brings it to your cunt, he starts off slow, pushing one finger into your hole. His eyes don’t leave yours as he pushes a second and then a third. “Fuck” you moan out, his fingers are slow and tantalising. Stroking your walls softly and nudging your soft spot with each thrust, your clit aches to be touched but he doesn’t go near it, knowing it’ll tip you over the edge too soon.

He’s enjoying you squirming, suddenly he’s inserting a fourth finger and you're crying out in half pain and half pleasure. “That’s it baby.. stretch you out so you can take my cock” he whispers, kissing your ass cheek again until his face is buried in your cunt. Tongue swirling and sucking until you're seeing white and cumming on his face.

He pulls away and orders you to spin, pushing you against the vanity. He’s still on his knees for you, staring up at you with lustful eyes. “Touch yourself”

The apples of your cheeks redden and you clench your fists together at your sides. “Come on baby, show me what you do when I’m not around to make you cum” he begs, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to your pussy. You nod and spread your legs again for him, reaching between your legs. You can feel the dampness on your thighs. You press your fingers to your clit, circling softly. “Is that what you do?” He questions, looking between your hand and you. You bite your lower lip and shrug. “Fuck baby come on.. that’s not what you do, show me how you fuck yourself”.

You pull your fingers from your pussy and bring them to your mouth, sucking on two fingers before dropping them back between your legs, his eyelids heavy and chest pounding. His eyes follow closely as you swirl the tips of your fingers across your clit and slowly push them deep inside of you, I gasp falls from your lips at the intrusion. “I usually use a vibrator.. for my clit” you choke out, riding your fingers as he grips your hips. He nods and pulls himself to stand. “Keep going”.

He exits the bedroom and rounds the bed to your side, opening the draw he grabs the small handheld vibrator and enters the room again. He kicks at your feet silently asking you to spread yourself further for him. Dropping to his knees all over again. He flicks the switch of the bullet and brings it to your pussy, teasing you by running it across your hand and just above your clit, he wants until your squirming above him and presses the vibratortor to your clit, watching as your eyes widen at the fluttering sensation.

“Oh shit” you cry, your fingers pushing deeper inside of you. “That’s it baby, fuck you look so good making yourself cum” he groans, pressing the head of the vibrator against you harder, sending you into a shaking mess. Your orgasm hits you instantly and you wobble on your legs, his arms wrapping around your waist as you cum around your own fingers.

“Such a good girl.. now let me fuck you baby”