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bunnipuffs · 2 days ago

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requesting for dark!pervy!Ellie who is friends with fem!reader

at first, Ellie is being the sweet and caring friend (holding reader’s bags when going out shopping, paying for things, taking care of reader, girlfriendy behavior without being gfs)

then slowly overstepping boundaries b/c Ellie is slowly revealing her true colors (becoming touchy and clingy, acting jealous, being controlling, degrade&belittle reader to hurt her feelings)

hopefully this could spark some ideas if you’re comfy with writing this <3 can be sfw and nsfw hehe ^3^

oh my god YUUMMMMYYYY thank you for this anon i actually just went dizzy at the thought of this mmmmm so yum ……… THANK YOU !!!!!!! <3<3<3 enjoy !!! (✿◠‿◠)

⋆˙⟡ dark! pervy! ellie who’s so sweet to you, days of seemingly endless love and care. your head is filled with flowers and all things pretty until one day, it’s not.

♡ . — ꒰ sfw ꒱

ellie who always makes sure you’re fed. your messages from her mostly consist of her asking if you ate, and if you even tried to step around it, “i did! had a little snack <3 thanks els” you’d still receive a knock at your door—your favorite meal and drink in ellie’s hands. she gets a little cranky when you say “snack,” she knows for a fact that you didn’t eat properly. there’s no way around it! ellie just wants you to be full and energized for the day.

ellie who immediately takes out her card when you complain about not having enough money for something. whether it’s something as small as a cute keychain, a sweater, or hell, even a $200 purse, she’s faster than you are. you already hear the loud beep! of it going through, ellie grabbing your shopping bags before she lets you drag her to the next store over. your arms are wrapped around her bicep tightly, repeating a sweet “thank you!” over and over again.

ellie who’s at your apartment as soon as she hears your nasally voice over the phone. she has a plastic bag full of medicine and spends her time in your kitchen making you a nice warm meal, spoon-feeding you and sitting right by your side as she hands you a water bottle with a pill to take for your illness. she’s patting your head and telling you “good job,” before she tucks you in, cleaning up your apartment while you sleep. she doesn’t even think about leaving until you’re better!

ellie who looks at you with something indescribable when you tell her that you met someone while you were working, and planned on hanging out with them at the local cafe. she asks you a lot of questions, who? where do they live? what do they look like? it’s not long before it slowly progresses into questions like what’d they say to you? is that them texting you right now? why are they bothering you so much? you often catch a glimpse of ellie’s head whipping towards your phone when it dings, her eyes glued onto your screen.

ellie who sits right behind you at said local cafe, on the day that you and that “friend” planned to go out. a black hoodie on and funny-looking sunglasses to pair, she’s stirring a cup of coffee (she didn’t even like coffee) while she listens to you laugh and giggle like you did with her. what the fuck was so funny? she thinks, she feels something boiling beneath her skin. it didn’t sit right with her that you were spending your precious time with someone so undeserving. she should’ve been sat across you, watching your eyes crinkle and your pretty lips sip at your beloved drink. you and ellie had been to this cafe a hundred times by now, and it grew something dangerous in her stomach knowing that someone else had taken her place.

ellie who blankly stares at you when you show her your outfit for the next hangout, you’re leaving in a few minutes, smiling and twirling in front of the mirror. you’re wearing a cute little skirt, a nice frilly blouse for your top. your makeup is done perfectly and you gush about how you’ve made a good friend, that they enjoy the same things as you, and the fact that they think you’re pretty. ellie finally snaps at that, a mean scoff leaving her lips. you flinch at the sound—ellie had never done that with you. “i wouldn’t be so happy, honestly, i mean..” ellie comes up behind you, her hand trailing down to the end of your skirt. it’s short, and ellie lifts it just enough, exposing bits of your bare thigh. “i love it, but, what if they think you’re a whore? dressed like that?” she continues, letting go of the fabric.

ellie who feels pure satisfaction blooming in her chest when your smile fades away, you nod in response, not saying anything. a whore? you didn’t want that. your eyes are teary at the insult, lip trembling, before you make your way to your dresser. you fish out a pair of jeans, pulling your skirt off in front of ellie. she quickly snaps a picture of you before you’re all dressed up again. you keep facing your old wooden dresser, looking at the chips and dents. you’re afraid of ellie seeing you cry. but she knows you are, and she’s suddenly pulling you into her arms and rubbing your back, soft cries pulled from your throat. she hums into your hair, “awh, c’mon, don’t cry. y’know i’m just looking out for you, right?” you can’t feel the grin pressed against you, ellie cooing when you hiccup. “don’t wanna ruin your pretty makeup, so stop crying.”

ellie who is more than pleased to know that you haven’t been wearing your skirts around them anymore, and she feels even better when you suddenly receive a photo from an unknown number—a picture of you, asleep in only your panties and a tank top, your leg over a pillow exposing your ass and legs. you feel bile rise in your throat when you open it. who? but ellie always has an answer to your problems, and she advises you not to speak to your “good” friend anymore. your head is in ellie’s lap, pink cheeks stained with tears while she gently runs her fingers through your hair. “it’s really weird that this happened when you met, i don’t think it’s a good idea to talk to them anymore..” you didn’t question how they had found your apartment, or even how they got in. but you’d never know that ellie had been the one to sneak into your apartment. you had given her an emergency key if anything had happened since you lived alone, and ellie had never used it before. but ellie was getting tired of hearing about this loser, and she quietly walked into your room late at night, pulled out her phone and took a picture of you. unconscious and vulnerable. the best part was that you would never accuse her of something like that. you trusted ellie, she wouldn’t do that to you.

♡ . — ꒰ nsfw ꒱

ellie who asks for your phone from time to time, looking through your messages and buying you ice cream when she doesn’t see anyone new lingering in your inbox. she waits till you’re distracted doing something else, cleaning your living room, your kitchen, organizing clothes, before she looks through your gallery and sends herself your selfies and other… pictures you’ve taken. she quickly opens up her phone to save them before deleting them on your end. they weren’t nudes, but some of them made ellie sticky in her boxers, a particular photo of you with your tongue out and wearing your favorite pajama set. she thinks about using your mouth to get herself off, groaning at the thought of your lips covered in her arousal.

ellie who uses the secret pictures she’s taken of you to masturbate, the one of you asleep her favorite one by far. she’s cumming at the thought of your pretty face crying when she called you a whore, your glossy eyes when you received that picture of you unconscious, she doesn’t even really need the picture at this point—but it makes her even hornier that you’re so naive. she likes the reminder of her influence on you, how easy you believed her. she’s gritting out your name when she makes a mess all over her pillow, imagining it as your body.

ellie who takes you out for another mall date as usual, she lets you wear anything you want around her—but you’ve noticed that every time you’re wearing a skirt, ellie’s hands brush against your ass for a second, and it seems to be happening more and more. she gives you a sheepish smile and apologizes, “i’m walking too close, i wasn’t paying attention,” but you can’t see her behind you, you can’t see her eyes fixated on your plump ass peaking from beneath the fabric, calculated touches on ellie’s end. you start ignoring it when you realize it just keeps happening, maybe she really is just doing it by accident. she’s holding a lot of bags, and there’s a lot of people. it gets distracting inside of a packed mall!

ellie who gets a little too touchy one night. she’s staying over at your apartment again since you felt paranoid about someone sneaking in, and you’re fast asleep in her arms almost immediately. ellie tucks a stray loose of hair behind your ear, your warm breaths against her tattooed arm. she doesn’t realize her hand is already slowly drifting down your chest, a finger gently tugging down your top to reveal your nipple. she brushes over it, carefully, the bud hardening at her touch. ellie lets out a small noise seeing it, wanting nothing more than to lick at it, bite until it’s all sore. she quickly fixes your clothing when you shuffle in her grasp, her heart pounding against her chest. she hopes it doesn’t wake you up.

ellie who peeks into your bathroom while you’re showering. you’ve recently kept the door open while you did your business because you were anxious, and ellie needed to get to you in time if something happened. ellie does her best to see you through the glass, your blurry naked figure moving around as you rinse yourself off. she can’t make out your face at all, but she can see the outline of you, your perky tits, the dips of your hip, she can faintly see your ass as you grab and smooth over it with soap. ellie’s slipping a hand down her pants while she stares, playing with herself as she continues looking at you. she’s moaning softly against the edge of the door, circling her clit in fast circles. she didn’t have the time to drag it out like she usually did, edging herself to pictures of you or your sleeping face next to her. you were going to be done soon—and ellie cums as soon as you’re groping your tits, washing innocently.

ellie who tells you to quit your job. she can’t risk you meeting someone else, and she’d have to go through that same process all over again. you were stupid to believe her the first time, but a second? you’d obviously pick up on something. ellie couldn’t have that. she tells you “i’ve already been paying for everything, i might as well move in since i’m here all the time.” initially, you’re a bit worried. rent was expensive! your full time job wasn’t even cutting it, how would you both pay for rent if you couldn’t? but ellie quickly shushes you with her usual excuses, and eventually, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. ellie could protect you if something were to happen again. you quit your job and with a short notice to joel, ellie moves in the next week.

ellie who can’t help but kiss you when you’re sleeping. it’s only the third night of you both living together, but your lips are right there, right in front of her, and all the restraint in her body had left a long time ago—she’s pressing wet kisses to your mouth, her tongue licking at your lips. all over it, disgustingly so, but you’re so sweet. ellie can’t get enough. she’s eventually pulling down your panties, her face buried in between your legs, licking feverishly at your pussy. you wake up to the stickiness between you, your eyes widening when you see your best friend below you. she’s staring up at you without shame, like she was waiting for you to wake up. there’s something dark swimming in her eyes, and she doesn’t stop even when you’re thrashing under her hold. her hands are pinning your thighs to your bed, her tongue making it’s way into your hole. you’re far too deep to fight back, the drowsiness of sleep and the unbearable heat in your cunt hard to push away. “come for me first, i’ll stop then—please, i need it,” you try to respond, but her fingers find your clit and she’s rubbing you so good that it makes you squirt all over her tongue, your slick coating her slender fingers. you’re panting heavily, chest aching with how desperately you’re trying to catch air, and ellie is suddenly hovering right above you. she presses a kiss to your forehead, gentle and loving, unlike her a few moments ago. “i’m all you need, okay? just me, say it, please.” you gulp, the familiar feeling of fear spreading in your chest. you stare back up at her with those teary eyes she loved, “you’re all i need, els.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #˚ෆ 🩰🦢 .° ༘

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plutosunshine · 20 hours ago

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What changes do you need to make in your life? Uranus in houses

Uranus in the 1st house

If you have Uranus in the 1st house, life is kinda asking you — maybe even pushing you — to embrace your individuality completely. Like, not just surface-level "I'm a little different" — but deep, radical self-acceptance. You're meant to stand out. You’re not here to fit into neat little boxes or live by someone else’s blueprint. And honestly, the more you try to "blend in," the more uncomfortable and restless you’ll probably feel.

Change for you often looks like breaking free from old versions of yourself — shedding layers of identity that don't match who you actually are inside. It's almost like you have to reinvent yourself several times through life, and each time you get closer to your truest, most electric version.

Also, people with Uranus in the 1st house sometimes shock others without meaning to — just by being themselves. If you've ever felt like people either instantly "get you" or are like, "Whoa, what are they about?" — that's totally part of your magic. You're meant to wake people up just by existing. So part of the change you might need is learning not to shrink yourself to make others more comfortable. Your energy shakes things up, and the world needs that.

Basically, life is asking you to be bold about who you are. Own your quirks, trust your instincts, and don't be afraid of people who don't "get it." Your real people will. ⚡

Uranus in the 2nd house

When Uranus is in your 2nd house, life kinda whispers (or sometimes yells), "Hey, your relationship to money, possessions, and self-worth isn't meant to be traditional." Stability in those areas? It's a moving target. You might experience sudden gains and losses, or your income might come from weird, unconventional, or unexpected places — like random side hustles, tech stuff, spiritual work, inventions, or just not the typical 9-5 route.

You're not supposed to cling too hard to stuff — money, belongings, even security in the "normal" sense — because Uranus wants you to find your true value somewhere deeper. It's like life challenges you to stay flexible, resourceful, and open to change. If you ever try to "lock down" your finances too tightly, life might throw curveballs just to remind you: "Hey, you can't control this like everyone else does."

What you’re really being nudged toward is a more authentic, liberated version of security — one that's based on your own inner worth, not just how much is in your bank account or what you own. That can feel wild sometimes, but it’s where your freedom and true abundance live.

Also, with Uranus here, you probably have some super unique talents or ways of creating value — like, skills that aren't "standard issue." Part of your life path is trusting that and not trying to be cookie-cutter about how you "should" earn or what you "should" have.

In short: you’re here to redefine what stability means — on your terms. And once you stop trying to do it the way everyone else expects, the real magic flows.

Uranus in the 3rd house

If you’ve got Uranus in the 3rd house, your mind doesn’t work like everyone else's — and that’s a huge gift. You're wired to think fast, differently, outside the box. Like, while everyone else is still putting the pieces of a puzzle together, you're already looking at the next puzzle two steps ahead. Your ideas can be brilliant, futuristic, and honestly, sometimes even too "out there" for people to immediately understand.

Life pushes you to communicate in your own unique way — whether that’s through writing, speaking, tech, memes, art, whatever fits your flavor. You’re probably not here to just parrot what’s already been said — you're here to spark new conversations. It’s very "I have something different to say, and if you don't get it, that's fine — you'll catch up."

Change-wise, Uranus in the 3rd house wants you to free your voice. Don’t water yourself down just to be understood easily. You're meant to bring new ideas into the world, even if it feels like you're shouting into the void sometimes. You’re also probably here to teach or influence people in unexpected ways — even just by chatting or posting online. You might drop a random comment that seriously changes someone's life without even trying.

Also, heads up: your day-to-day life can be kinda unpredictable. Last-minute trips, sudden changes in plans, weird encounters with siblings or neighbors — that's all very Uranus 3rd house energy. The universe likes to keep your environment stimulating, because your brain craves newness and movement.

So overall, life’s asking you to trust your strange, electric mind — and share it, even if it feels like no one gets it at first. You’re a mental pioneer. 🧠⚡

Uranus in the 4th house

When Uranus is in your 4th house, home and family roots are not exactly "normal" — and they’re not supposed to be. You might have grown up in a household that felt a little unstable, eccentric, chaotic, or just different from what most people around you experienced. Maybe there were sudden moves, surprising family dynamics, or a general sense that home didn’t always mean "predictable."

At a soul level, life is nudging you to redefine what home and emotional security mean for yourself. You’re probably not meant to live a super traditional, white-picket-fence kind of life — unless you totally reinvent what that looks like for you. You're wired to crave emotional freedom as much as emotional connection, which can be a weird balancing act. You want to belong, but not if it means losing yourself.

One big change Uranus asks from you is to detach from old family patterns that no longer support who you are becoming. You might be the one in your family who “breaks the chain” — doing life differently, healing old emotional wounds, choosing freedom over stuck loyalty.

Also, you may randomly move at unexpected times, live in unusual places, have a very unique home setup, or create a kind of “chosen family” of your own. Home for you isn't necessarily one physical place — it’s more about finding people and spaces where you can breathe, be weird, and feel truly safe being yourself.

If you ever feel like your foundation is shaking, it’s usually Uranus asking, "Is this still real for you? Or are you clinging to something out of fear?" And if it’s not authentic, life will eventually push you to shake it loose.

In short: your soul's mission is to create an emotional life based on truth, not tradition — and it's okay if it looks totally different from what you grew up with. In fact, it’s supposed to. 💫

Uranus in the 5th house

When Uranus is in your 5th house, life is saying loud and clear: "You’re not here to create like everyone else. You’re here to shock, inspire, and completely rewrite the rules of self-expression." Your creativity, your passions, even the way you love — it’s all electric, unpredictable, and absolutely unique to you.

You probably get flashes of inspiration out of nowhere — like one minute you're just living your life, the next you’re hit with a wild idea that’s lightyears ahead of its time. Follow those sparks. Your soul is happiest when you’re making or doing something that feels exciting, different, even a little rebellious.

When it comes to love and dating? Yeahhh... not exactly "by the book" either. 😂 You need excitement, freedom, and real connection — not just safe, boring routines. People who try to tie you down too fast or expect you to follow some romance script might make you want to run for the hills. Fast. Love for you needs to feel like an adventure, not an obligation.

Also, with Uranus in the 5th, you're meant to experiment with joy — find what lights you up and don’t be afraid if it changes over time. Hobbies, art, passion projects, even the way you relate to kids (if you have them or ever do) will all have a non-traditional flavor.

The big change Uranus asks of you is to trust your weird, wonderful self-expression, even if it doesn’t make sense to others. You’re not here to color inside the lines — you're here to invent whole new colors. 🎨⚡

And honestly, when you really let yourself play your way, life becomes magic.

Uranus in the 6th house

If Uranus is in your 6th house, life is basically saying: "You’re not meant to do work, health, or daily life the 'normal' way — and the sooner you own that, the freer and happier you’ll be."

You probably get restless with routines that feel too rigid or boring. Clocking into a 9-5 every day doing the same thing forever? Hard pass. Your soul craves freedom in your work life — meaning freelance gigs, weird career paths, sudden changes in job direction, or working somewhere that lets you be independent or innovative. Traditional setups might feel like they drain your life force unless they give you enough space to be you.

And your relationship to health is just as unique. Your body might respond weirdly to stress, routine, diet, or even conventional medicine. Sometimes it’s like your system is more sensitive to energy shifts — so listening to your own intuition, trying alternative healing methods, or mixing different styles might actually work better for you than following the "one size fits all" advice.

The big thing Uranus pushes you to change? Let go of trying to force yourself into boring, mechanical rhythms just because you think you “should.” Find your own rhythm. Make your day-to-day life feel alive, not suffocating. It’s about learning how to serve the world and honor your individuality at the same time — not sacrificing one for the other.

Also — random note — you might suddenly shift habits, diets, or routines overnight. Like, you wake up one day and think, "I'm never eating sugar again" or "I'm quitting this job today." And if you trust those intuitive jolts (and they come from real insight, not just rebellion), they can actually be super healthy for you.

In short: build a life that lets you work and live in a way that feels electric, free, and true — even if it looks totally different from what everyone else is doing. 🛠️⚡

Uranus in the 7th house

If you’ve got Uranus in the 7th house, life is basically setting you up for relationships that break the mold. The traditional "settle down, follow the script" thing? Yeah... not really your destiny. Deep down, you crave connection — but it has to come with a huge side of freedom, authenticity, and excitement.

You might attract super unusual, eccentric, brilliant, rebellious partners — people who are totally different from what your family or friends expect. Or your relationships might start in weird, sudden, out-of-nowhere ways. Sometimes it's instant sparks, sometimes it's chaos, but it’s never boring.

One big thing Uranus asks of you is to rethink what partnership means. You’re not here to merge into someone else or lose yourself in "we" — you're here to form relationships where both people still get to be totally themselves. If someone tries to control you or box you in, your soul is gonna scream, "Nope!" even if everything looks good on paper.

There can also be sudden changes in relationships — fast beginnings, sudden breakups, on-and-off vibes — because your partnerships are meant to reflect growth and evolution, not just stability for stability’s sake. Long-term, the kind of relationship that works for you is one that feels like a conscious choice every day, not an obligation you’re stuck in.

You’re meant to experience partnership as something that’s alive, surprising, and full of breathing room — not something that clips your wings. 🪽

In short: you’re here to build new models of love and partnership, ones that are real, free, and yours — even if they don’t look traditional to the outside world.

Uranus in the 8th house

If Uranus is in your 8th house, you are wired for deep transformation, but it’s not going to be slow, steady, or easy — it’s going to come in flashes, breakthroughs, and total holy sht* moments. Life doesn’t let you stay the same for long. You’re built to shed skins, reinvent yourself, and go through some seriously wild inner changes that shock even you sometimes.

The 8th house is about shared energy — intimacy, deep trust, merging resources, death and rebirth (emotionally, spiritually, and sometimes literally dealing with loss). Uranus here brings sudden shifts in all those deep areas. You might experience unexpected changes with money you share with others — inheritance, investments, debts, etc. But even bigger than money? Emotional intimacy. You probably don’t do closeness the "normal" way. You need freedom even in deep bonds — meaning you’ll crave deep connection but also fear losing your independence if it gets too entangled or heavy.

Part of your growth is learning how to let people in without feeling trapped. And honestly? You're meant to attract people who help awaken you — lovers, friends, mentors — not just keep you safe and cozy. Relationships with you can feel electric, transformative, and a little chaotic because you wake people up, and they wake you up right back.

Also, you probably have some crazy strong intuition about hidden things — emotional undercurrents, secrets, even metaphysical stuff like energy healing, astrology, or psychic phenomena. Uranus in the 8th house often gives flashes of insight into the unseen realms.

In short: you’re here to transform, to trust your inner flashes of insight, and to live through depth without losing your freedom. It’s intense, but you were built for this kind of magic. 🖤⚡

Uranus in the 9th house

If Uranus is in your 9th house, your soul is basically wired for exploration, expansion, and truth-seeking — but in the most wild, non-traditional way possible. You’re not here to just accept what you're taught; you’re here to question everything and find your own truth, even if it’s way outside the "normal" zone.

You might have an intense need for freedom through learning, travel, philosophy, or spirituality — but you’ll always approach those things in your own way. Like, traditional religious systems? Academic structures? "One-size-fits-all" beliefs? Nah, that’s not gonna cut it for you. You need room to roam, both mentally and literally. ✈️📚

Big changes with Uranus here usually look like sudden revelations that totally flip your worldview. One day you might believe in X, the next day you're like, "Nope, it’s Y," because a flash of insight hit you so hard you can’t unsee it. And travel? Yeah — you might have unexpected moves, spontaneous trips, or a restless need to experience different cultures and ways of thinking. Even if you stay in one place physically, your mind is always somewhere new, exploring.

In relationships and life in general, you need people around you who respect your mental freedom. Anyone trying to force you into their belief system or limit your thinking? Instantly a no-go for you.

The change Uranus is pushing you toward is breaking free from inherited beliefs and creating your own understanding of the universe — one that's alive, evolving, and completely yours. You’re here to be a trailblazer in thought, not a follower.

In short: You’re meant to wake people up to bigger, freer ways of seeing life — starting with yourself. 🧠🚀

Uranus in the 10th house

If you have Uranus in your 10th house, you are not here to have a "normal" career or public life — at all. Like, truly, you’re built to shock, inspire, and change the system by just being yourself out in the world.

You might have this deep, restless urge to do work that’s different, groundbreaking, or ahead of its time. Sitting at a desk doing the same thing every day under someone else's rules? Not it. You need freedom, innovation, and the space to carve your own path. A lot of people with this placement either blow up suddenly (like, overnight success out of nowhere) or have a career path that's full of random twists, turns, starts, and reboots. You're not supposed to have a straight-line journey. You’re meant to reinvent yourself publicly over and over.

And when it comes to your reputation? People might see you as rebellious, brilliant, eccentric — maybe even a little unpredictable. Some will admire it, some won’t know what to do with you — but either way, you’re unforgettable. Your energy shakes things up wherever you go, especially in the areas of leadership, fame, career, and achievement.

The big shift Uranus demands from you is: don’t force yourself into traditional definitions of "success." You're supposed to define success on your terms, even if nobody else gets it at first. When you stay true to your weird, genius path, that's when the universe really opens doors for you.

You’re basically a walking permission slip for others to realize they can be successful without selling their soul. 🔥

In short: You’re here to change the game — not play it. 🛸🌟

Uranus in the 11th house

If you have Uranus in the 11th house, you’re literally built to find your people — but it’s not gonna happen in a typical, cookie-cutter way. You're supposed to connect with wildly different, progressive, visionary communities — the weirdos, the geniuses, the rebels, the dreamers — the ones who don't just fit in but want to change the whole damn system.

You’re not meant to just be part of any group; you’re here to help invent new movements, ideas, and futures. You might feel restless or out of place in traditional circles because your soul knows you need a tribe that lets you fully be yourself — no masks, no small talk, no shrinking.

You might also notice that friendships and group connections in your life can be sudden, electric, and sometimes unstable. People can come into your life fast and leave just as fast — but every connection usually brings some kind of awakening or shift, even if it’s short-lived.

Career and dreams? You’re meant to dream big — not just for yourself, but for the collective. Like, you’re here to push humanity forward in your own way, whether that’s through tech, social movements, arts, spirituality, or whatever wild path your heart picks. And honestly, you're usually ahead of your time — you see futures that other people haven't even imagined yet.

The big shift Uranus asks of you is: don’t cling to old friendships, networks, or dreams just because they’re comfortable. Your soul craves growth and evolution. And sometimes that means walking away when a community no longer matches your vibration — even if it’s hard.

In short: you’re here to shake up the collective, connect with your soul tribe, and dream the future into being. 🌍🚀

Uranus in the 12th house

If Uranus is in your 12th house, you’ve got this deep, electric connection to the unseen — the collective unconscious, intuition, dreams, energy fields, things most people can’t even put into words. You’re wired to sense shifts before they happen. Sometimes you’ll just know stuff without knowing how you know. It's like you have a built-in cosmic antenna — picking up on vibes, future trends, hidden emotions, even collective spiritual shifts.

But here's the tricky part: because the 12th house is so hidden, a lot of this Uranian lightning might be happening under the surface, inside you — not always super obvious to you or others. You might feel restless without knowing why, or you might have sudden awakenings that feel totally random but actually aren’t.

Freedom, for you, is an inside job. It’s about freeing yourself from old karmic patterns, unconscious fears, and anything that cages your inner wildness. You’re here to break free from invisible prisons — things like self-sabotage, outdated spiritual beliefs, hidden anxieties.

Also? You’re super plugged into the collective energy. When society goes through chaos or awakening (and let’s be real, it does a lot these days), you might feel it in your body and soul before anything even happens externally. You’re like a cosmic early warning system. 🚨✨

The shift Uranus is asking from you is: trust your flashes of insight, even if they come from dreams, meditation, or deep inner nudges that don’t seem logical at first. And learn how to ground your energy so you don’t get overwhelmed by everything you’re sensing.

You’re meant to be a kind of hidden awakener — someone whose very presence, even quietly, stirs change in others on a deep, soul level. 🌀💫

In short: you’re here to awaken not just your own soul, but the collective dream — and it all starts with trusting your inner electric magic.

#astrology #astro #natal chart #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology posts #astrology lover #astrology community #astrology blog #uranus in houses #uranus

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jupitersfall · 3 days ago

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CAM-GIRL | N. SCATORCCIO

summary: nat needs money. when she signs up for a website, she meets a certain user on there that has no problem giving her their cash. smut

a/n: i was listening to radiohead during this, that’s why ok computer is r’s username btw 😭😭

nat wasn’t entirely proud of this.

but she *did* need the money. and she knew she looked good. she knew there were people on the internet who would do crazy shit to get a glimpse of her tits.

and when she had heard about this website, she did get a little curious. so, she’d taken a look.

it wasn’t anything too surprising. girls sucking dildos or fucking themselves. guys jerking off, or groaning and whimpering into their microphones.

it had taken her a few days to come up with a decision. she needed money, sure, but did she really want to do this? i mean, it’s not like she didn’t have a job. although, the record store didn’t pay much.

one night, she had gotten a little too stoned. she was scrolling through that website again, after having decided on making an account. it was only when she stumbled across a girl who’d received $50 for just saying hi to one of her viewers, that she’d do this.

she’d make a video. just one, and see how it went.

it’s not like anybody would actually watch her.

okay, maybe she’d hide her face.

and after coming to the conclusion that she would indeed make a video, a few day’s later nat sat on the edge of her bed, her phone camera positioned below her eyes by a half-broken phone stand that she’d found at the thrift store.

she had started recording, and the minutes ticked by. each second was agonizing, if she had to be honest. this was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? god, she should end the live before some-.

her eyes widened as she watched her viewers go from 0 to 1. great, now someone was watching her. she cleared her throat awkwardly, licking her chapped lips.

“hi,” nat said, her voice uncharacteristically shaky, “thanks for…joining.”

her hands twisted in her lap, nails gently digging into her thighs.

user57282: hey

user57282: u should take ur top off

that definitely didn’t help nat’s nerves. she took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and began to tug it up over her head, leaving her in just a simple red bra.

user57282: god damn

her viewers had begun to rise from one, to five, to twelve. nat hadn’t taken anything else off, and she’d only got a couple dollars so far. then one comment came in that caught her attention most.

okcomputer11: you’ve got a nice smile

okcomputer11: not just nice lol it’s pretty

the casualness of the message took nat by surprise, and she let out a laugh, before raising a hand up to cover her mouth. ok computer…god, wasn’t that a radiohead album? she nearly laughed again.

ping!

okcomputer11: touch urself for me

okcomputer11: please

nat’s eyebrows rose slightly at that, the message ‘okcomputer11 sent $20’ popping up at the top of her screen. her cheeks flushed a little, a strange feeling stirring in her stomach.

well, she did just get twenty bucks. and you at least had manners.

she raised one of her hands up, fingers grazing the top of her tits before she began to awkwardly grope her chest, fingertips gently digging into her flesh.

okcomputer11: good

okcomputer11: but just a little lower :)

ping!

another twenty.

she shuffled a bit, lowering her camera as best she could so that her thighs were in the shot. her viewers had raised a lot more, now sitting at 57. there were other comments being sent, but she was mostly concerned with this ‘ok computer’ person.

she shuffled back a bit on the bed, being mindful not to show much of her face. her thighs spread, and she leaned back on one of her elbows while her other hand began to rub over her covered clit.

okcomputer11: holy

okcomputer: don’t tease

ping!

god. fifty bucks.

nat couldn’t help but grin. she grunted a little as she began to tug her shorts down, hips lifting off the bed a bit, and then she tossed the fabric into the corner of her room. she pushed her underwear to the side, her eyes slowly fluttering closed as she let her fingertips circle her clit. with a little moan, she gently eased her middle and ring finger inside her entrance.

okcomputer11: that’s good

nat wasn’t really paying much attention to the comments now, preoccupied by the feeling of her fingers pumping in and out of her cunt. she felt that familiar tightening sensation, and knew it wouldn’t be long before she came. her eyes slowly peered open, narrowing a bit as she made out some more of your comments.

okcomputer11: fuck

okcomputer11: are you gonna cum

nat took a few deep breaths, licking her lips as she nodded— but then she remembered that her face wasn’t in view. so, she let out her best ‘yeah’, which came out as a bit of a whisper.

ping!

100 dollars?

okcomputer11: please cum

if this were any other situation, nat would’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity. but she felt way too good right now with her fingers fucking herself.

nat’s eyes squeezed shut, her pussy tightening around her fingers as she came. she let out an almost pornographic moan, her mouth hanging open as she slowly rode out her orgasm.

she took a moment to catch her breath before she pulled out of herself. she was just about to wipe her hand off on a nearby mcdonald’s napkin, when another one of your comments came in

okcomputer11: taste urself

ping!

another twenty.

nat hesitated, eyes flickering down to her fingers which glistened with her wetness. she licked her lips, slowly bringing her hand up to her mouth. her lips parted, tongue darting out to graze the tip of finger. she slowly brought her fingers into her mouth, cheeks hollowing a bit as she licked herself clean.

when she finished, she simply watched the comments. there were more people asking for things, but to be frank, she was tired. and…well, that had been enough for one day.

“i think im gonna go,” nat said to her audience. she glanced up at the viewer count. 103. not bad. “but i might go live another time. for now, bye.”

okcomputer11: bye :)

nat ended the live, tossing her phone down on her bed. she began to search for a new set of clothes. she needed a shower, especially after that.

thirty minutes later, when she was stepping out of her bathroom with a towel wrapped around her, she checked her phone to see a new notification.

‘okcomputer11 has followed you’

#yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio

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dantes-jacket · 1 day ago

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I’m so happy you were born

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: your birthday is coming up! But Dante has a mission he has to do, will he miss your birthday completely? Hurt/comfort, Dante is a great bf, so much fluff

You’re listening to some music while cleaning up Dante’s bedroom. He always tells you not to and he will “do it later” but later never comes. Plus you enjoy cleaning especially since you’ve been staying with him more recently.

Just as you’re finishing up making the bed you hear a crash and yelling coming from the office. You’re praying it’s not a wild demon wanting to attack Devil May Cry or someone wanting Dante to do a job and trying to trash the place because they didn’t like his answer.

You slowly make your way downstairs not wanting to get in the middle of anything but wanting to make sure everything is okay. When you’re at the bottom of the stairs you peek your head around the corner to look at the office. You don’t see anyone new there and don’t see the place torn up indicating there was no fight. You look down on the ground and see a pile of Dante’s work related stuff and him standing at his desk seething while on the phone.

You come to the conclusion that Dante’s mad at the person on the phone and threw the stuff that was on his desk to the ground. He normally is super chill about jobs whether accepting or declining so this is a bit out of the blue. You decide to stay in your hiding spot and listen in.

“I don’t give a damn if I’m the only one you got. I’m not taking the job!” Dante yells into the phone.

He’s growls at whatever the person on the phone said, “Find someone else.”

Dante then slams his hand not holding the phone on the desk, “I’m not doing a long mission! It’s her birthday next week and I’m not fucking missing it. I’m not doing that to her.”

Oh so he got assigned another long mission. You two have been together for about seven months but most of it you two actually haven’t spent much time together. He’s been sent out on many long missions which keeps you two apart for weeks sometimes even a month. You were so excited when you found out he didn’t have a mission on your birthday. Once you brought it up Dante made a lot of plans for your special day.

Hearing that he might miss the birthday celebration he planned shatters your heart. He has been so excited and kept most of the plans secret to surprise you. You get why he’s so upset and mad now.

A part of you also gets the other side. His job is very important and he is the best. Longer missions normally means a stronger demon. If there is a stronger demon out there causing trouble and pain to innocent people you want Dante to take it. But there is a selfish part of you that just wants you to yourself especially on your birthday.

You focus your attention back onto Dante and whatever the person on the phone made him stiffen. “You can’t cut my pay. You know I need the money…” he says while running a hand through his messy white hair. He’s obviously stressed so you decide to walk over and make your presence known.

You place a hand on his back and rub it up and down. He isn’t wearing his signature leather jacket so you feel all his muscles. He turns to you while wearing a frown. You don’t return the expression, you opt to give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “It’s okay Dante.”

His eyes widen and you can see the conflict behind them. You know he wants to be with you but he can’t turn down the job especially not when he’s getting threatened with a lower pay.

“Fine I’ll do it,” he murmurs while slamming the phone down. He places both hands on the desk and hangs his head. In his movement your hand disconnected from his back. You hold it in their air not knowing if you should comfort him or let him have a moment.

Dante lightly calls your name, “I’m so sorry. Fuck I’m so sorry.”

“Dante.” He doesn’t look at you. “Dante, please look at me.” He turns to look at you and you see just how exhausted he is. He’s been working so much recently and was suppose to have a couple weeks off to rest.

You walk over and place your hands on his cheeks trying to bring as much comfort to him as you can. “Dante it’s not your fault. I get it. Your job is important and you’re so good at it that you can take on anything. You’re helping so many people continue to live in peace, and I’m so proud of you.”

“But you’re so important. You’re the most important part of my life. I promised you and now I can’t even celebrate your birthday. You were so excited-“

You cut him off, “I’m not going to lie yeah I was excited and I’m upset now because of how everything played out. But again you’re needed.”

“Yeah by you.”

“Dante, we can always celebrate when you’re back-“

Now he cuts you off, “No it’s not the same. It’s doesn’t have the same spark and it feels off.”

You bite your lip, “Dante I don’t want to fight about this. The last thing I ever want to do is fight with you before you go on a mission. So let’s just forget about it? There’s always next year and your birthday.”

“Wait but-“

You give him a pleading look to not fight you on this. He closes his mouth and sighs. You rub your thumbs against his cheeks to soothe him. Dante leans down to connects your foreheads.

“I hate this,” he whispers.

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” You know there isn’t much to say back but he isn’t holding it against you.

You decided to spent the rest of the day in bed cuddling. Dante has a vice grip on you. He doesn’t want to think how he won’t be holding you like this at this time tomorrow. He’s so mad. You’re sacrificing so much to be with him. He has so much planned and now he can’t do it.

You can tell Dante is not in the moment but you don’t want to bring it up. You don’t want to fight and you’d probably start crying because now it is really hitting you. You’re not going to be spending your birthday with the person you love the most. The day you and him (well mostly him) planned isn’t going to be happening.

You two mostly stay quiet besides some small conversations here and there. As you’re about to fall asleep Dante whispers in your ear, “I promise I’ll make this up to you.” And presses a kiss to your cheek.

You know he will but you also won’t be holding him to it. Anytime you get to spend time with him is special and great. So you don’t need a grand special day, you just need him.

You’re standing by the front door watching Dante finishing getting all his weapons onto his body. After he’s done he walks over to you.

“Please be safe Dante.”

He puts a hand on the back of your head and pulls you into a quick kiss. “I promise. I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You place another quick kiss to his lips. Once you pull back he gives you a quick hug and heads out. Knowing if he looks back or stays a second longer, he won’t leave.

You quickly lock the door when he leaves and lean your back against it. You then let the tears you didn’t know you were holding in fall. You honestly didn’t think it was going to bug you this much. But you were so excited. He saved up so much money to be able to get a reservation to a fancy restaurant and even bought you a new dress to wear to the dinner. He also had the rest of the night planned after.

You wanted it. You want it so bad. It’s so unfair. Maybe you should have been selfish, you should have agreed with him and just let him not go. You should have begged him not to go. You knew he would have if you asked. He’d do anything you asked and you don’t want to take advantage of it.

You stay there sobbing until you drag yourself off the door and do random tasks. Cleaning, showering, cooking, and other things to keep your mind off of this situation.

You follow that schedule for the next couple days. It’s hard because it means you have to accept the truth and the truth hurts so bad. Especially when your birthday is tomorrow. You don’t even know what you’re going to do. You don’t even want to celebrate it anymore. You don’t want a cake, you don’t want presents, you don’t want birthday wishes, you just want Dante.

You walk into your shared room and head to your closet. You go right for some of Dante’s clothes since this is the closest you’re going to get to him at the moment. You then go lay on Dante’s side of the bed trying to soak up every scent of him you can. You bury yourself under the blankets and just hope tomorrow will pass quickly.

You wake up on your birthday really early. Today is definitely trying to play with you. Shouldn’t you have good karma since you weren’t selfish and had Dante go? You stare at the ceiling and contemplate what you should do. You feel like if you stay in Devil May Cry today you’re going to be so depressed all day. You end up deciding to treat yourself to the cafe down the street.

You get ready and head out. The walk is only about five minutes so you get there quickly. You decide to get a tea and muffin. You sit at a seat by the window watching people walk by. A worker brings out your order and you thank her. She nods and head off. You enjoy your muffin while you slowly sip on your tea.

The world really must be after you because all you’ve seen today is couples. In the cafe or walking by the window. The world really wants to remind you that you were suppose to be like that today but you aren’t.

You decide you can’t take any more of this so you knock back the rest of your tea and leave. You can barely hold your tears back as you walk back to Devil May Cry. You can’t wait until you can bury yourself under the blankets again and hide from this awful day.

Little did you know while you were out Dante bursted into Devil May Cry. He’s huffing and puffing with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He calls out to you but doesn’t hear you respond. He quickly strips himself of his weapons and places the roses on the table.

He goes to look around but doesn’t see you anywhere. You must have went out. That makes him a little happy because now he can surprise you more. Dante goes to take a quick shower then set everything up.

He got decorations earlier this week. He starts by hangs up a big “happy birthday” sign. He then blows some balloons and tie them to little weights he got. He is thankful he has extra stamina due to his demon side after blowing up all those balloons.

He then goes and grabs your gifts he hid in his armory. Dante got you a necklace with a red gem stone to match his own. He then got you a camera because you’ve been talking about how upset you were because your old one broke. He topped it all off with getting you some of your favorite treats and snacks.

Dante sets those up on the table in front of the sign then quickly runs to put the roses in a vase. He grabs the confetti he got and throws it on the table to add a little more birthday flare.

He takes a step back and looks at the setup. He is super happy with all it has turned out and he is so happy he finished the mission extra fast. There was no way he was going to miss this. Especially after he heard you crying after he left. He stood outside the door for a couple minutes hoping you’d stop crying. Sometimes he really curses his skillful hearing because hearing you cry shattered him. He told himself he was going to make this quick and celebrate your birthday.

Now he just waits for you to get back.

You’re almost back and you are barely holding it together. You feel some tears slip out. You keep your head down until you get back.

You get back to Devil May Cry and go to open the door. You realized it’s unlocked. You mentally slapped yourself for forgetting to lock it. You open the door and are greeted with a decorated room with your boyfriend standing in the middle.

Dante’s smile widens when he sees you. “Happy birthday!!” He excitedly says.

You stare at him with your jaw dropped. “Dante, is that really you?”

He smiles lightly and nods his head, “Yeah it’s me baby. I’m here.”

Dante opens up his arms and you drop your purse and run over to him. You jump into his arms wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and legs around his waist.

He quickly returns the tight hug. He places a hand on the back of your head to place yours into his neck. You cry into his neck, “You’re really here,” you choke out.

“Yeah I’m here baby. I couldn’t just miss your birthday.”

You squeeze him tighter, “Thank you but how?? I thought the mission was suppose to be long?”

“Yeah it was but I got rid of the demon quickly,” he said all cocky. “Wanna open your presents before you get ready for our reservation?”

You pull your head out of his neck, “You got me gifts!?”

He looks offended by your question, “Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?” He lets you down but grabs your hand and walks you over to the table.

Dante stands behind you and wraps his arms around you, “Go ahead, open them.”

You start with the biggest bag and pull out a bunch of snacks and treats. “Ohh!! We have snacks for a movie night!”

He laughs at your reaction but guides you to the next gift. You then unwrap the rectangular shaped box and see a camera. Your eyes widen, you’ve been talking about getting one but only brought it up once or twice. He’s been really paying attention. That warms your heart, “We are going to try this out tonight.”

“Whatever you say baby,” he says after kissing the top of your head.

You go to the little box and unwrap it. You see it’s a little jewelry box. You open the box and see a beautiful silver necklace with a red gem stone. It reminds you a lot of his, did he get you this so you two can match? This also must have been so expensive.

“Dante this is all amazing and I can’t thank you enough. But wasn’t this all expensive?”

“Nothing is too expensive for you. I don’t mind, I want to spoil you.”

You spin around in his hold and pull him down into a soft and slow kiss. He tightens his grip on your waist and keeps you close to him. You break and smile up at him, “Thank you Dante. I love you so much.”

He smiles back down at you, “I love you so much too baby. But now it’s time to get ready!”

You laugh at his excitement. You grab your new necklace and head to your shared room. You go to put on the new dress Dante also got you. It’s a long red dress with a slit going up your right leg. You’re having a hard time zipping up the dress so you call Dante.

He walks in and whistles, “Hot damn. You look gorgeous.”

You flush at his comment, “Thank you, but can you help me? I can’t get the zipper.”

Dante walks over and stands behind you. You feel his warm hands on your lower back. You got some of the zipper but couldn’t get all of it. You feel the zipper going down and you roll your eyes, “Dante, up not down.”

He lets out a deep laugh, “Right I knew that.” He then zips up the dress and kiss your bare shoulder. “There you go,” he lightly whispers.

He goes to walk away but you stop him, “Can you help me put the necklace on too?”

He nods and holds out his hand to grab the necklace. You place it in his hand and he goes to stand behind you again. You pull your hair out of way so he can easily clip the necklace. Once he’s done he moves your hair back.

You step away from him to go look in the mirror. You are so glad your little cry session didn’t mess up your makeup too much earlier. You just need to touch up your mascara. You quickly do that and then get a good look at yourself. You look great! You can’t wait for Dante’s reaction to the final look.

You walk back downstairs and see Dante sitting on the couch. “Dante.”

He looks up and stares. He gets up and slowly walks over to you. He holds out his hand and you take it, he has you do a little spin. This has you beaming up at him.

“God baby, you look so fucking breathtaking. I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, “Thank you! You look very handsome too.”

He laughs again at your compliment, “I’m not wearing anything different or new.”

“I know but you’re always handsome, especially when you have that smile on your face.”

He brings up your hand to kiss your knuckle, “Well thank you. You ready to go?”

You just give him a simple nod. He leads you out of Devil May Cry and to a car parked in front. “Uh Dante where did you get this?”

“Oh Enzo let me borrow it. It’s the least he can do for almost making me miss today.”

You two get into the car and he takes off to the restaurant. He places his hand on your thigh rubbing it and down your leg.

The drive was pretty short. Dante quickly finds a spot to park then gets out to lead you inside. When you get to worker they ask for the name and Dante says his name. You two then get lead to your table.

While you two ate, you and Dante talk about his mission and what you “did” while he was gone. When you’re almost done you ask Dante, “So what are we doing the rest of the night? You had this big plan.”

Dante smirks, “Now why would I tell you? That ruins the fun.”

You roll your eyes but decide to go with the flow. He’s been doing great so far, you bet it’s going to stay this way. When you two finish eating Dante pays then leads you back to the car.

Dante pulls out of the parking spot and heads in the opposite direction of Devil May Cry. He drives to the edge of the town and up this uphill terrain. Once he’s at the top he makes sure the back of the car is facing the view.

He parks the car then turns to you, “Stay right here and don’t look back. I’ll come get you in a minute.”

“Okay.” He leans over and kisses your cheek then hops out of the car.

Dante opens the trunk then flattens the back seats down. He then sets up the blankets and pillows he brought in the back. After he gets it perfect he then focuses on the cake box that was back there too. He lights the candles then goes to grab you.

He opens your door and holds out his hand, “Take my hand but close your eyes until I tell you to open them.”

“Okay but you better not let me fall.”

“The only falling I’d let you do is falling for me,” he smirks.

You smack his arm and he just laughs. You take his hand and close your eyes and let him guide you. You walk to the back of the car. He stops you for a second then grabs your hips and lifts you up. You quickly grab his shoulders and hold onto him tightly. He places you in the truck then lets go of you. Dante then grabs the cake and stands in front of you.

“Okay open your eyes.”

You open your eyes to see him standing there with a cake in hand with a bunch of candles. The cake has a cute design with your name and “happy birthday” written on it.

You look back up at him and he’s smiling at your reaction, “Happy birthday baby, make a wish.”

You think for a second about what you want. You then realize what you want. You want this every birthday. Just you and him doing whatever. You say your wish then blow out the candles.

Dante then hops in the trunk beside you and hands you a fork. You two dig into the cake and enjoy the night sky.

“Dante,” you call out to him.

He is stuffing his face full of cake so he makes a humming noise to let you know to continue.

“Thank you for making this birthday so special. It means a lot to me you worked quick so you could surprise me and celebrate my birthday. Thank you for all the incredible gifts and memories. I’ll cherish these always. I love you beyond words Dante.”

“No need to thank me this much. I’m just happy I could make this day so special for you. Seeing you so happy makes me so happy. I’m so happy you enjoyed your birthday with me. I love you so much, you don’t understand.”

You two both lean in to share another kiss. This kiss is messy and not in a heated way. You both have frosting on your lips which is smearing over the both of your lips and chins but you couldn’t care less. You have your favorite person with you and that’s all that matters.

After you two had your fair share of cake and watching the stars you two pack up and head back home. The car ride back you’re almost falling asleep. You force yourself to stay up though so you can spend all the time you can with Dante. You know he’s not going anywhere any time soon but you still have a little fear that this was just a dream and he’s not actually going to be here when you wake up.

Once you’re back you head straight to your shared bedroom and get ready for bed. You get done at record speed because you just want to go to sleep.

Dante is already in bed curled up under the blankets. When he sees you coming to bed he lifts the blankets for you and you dive right in. You cuddle up next to him and instantly fall asleep.

He chuckles a bit and kisses your forehead, “Goodnight and sleep well.”

After a few minutes of silence and he knows for sure you’re asleep he murmurs out, “I’m so happy you were born.”

#dante sparda x reader #dante x reader

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stzrgirl4norris · 3 days ago

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My Kink Is Karma

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After a turbulent break up, Max left you all alone, dealing with the pain from his poisonous words. He was thriving, having the time of his life, and you were determined to see his downfall.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do that), degradation, Mean!Max, Mean! Reader, they are both toxic to each other, revenge sex, hate sex. All the good stuff

I'm on my Max kick later, specially since the last race. Hope you guys can enjoy my freak with me!!

Three months, twenty eight days since he left.

Actually, since you left. No, even worse, since you were kicked out of his stupid cubicle of an apartment. Why is every goddamn apartment in Monaco so small either way? It's like millionaires have a kink for minimalism or something. There were still a couple of his t-shirts hanging around, shoved down the back of a drawer you never opened. You contemplated burning them down, one by one, or selling them on e-bay, you would probably make a lot of money with it. However, the anger was still boiling hot in your bones, opened. You contemplated burning them down, one by one, or selling them on e-bay, you would probably make a lot of money with it. However, the anger was still boiling hot in your bones, picking up anything with his scent on it would cause world war three, and you didn't want that.

Not because you don't hate him, you do, wholeheartedly, but you would rather see the universe handle it, slowly, sadistically, because you always believed in karma, plus, he didn't deserve any type of reaction from you.

However, almost four months is a whole lot of time of waiting for Max Verstappen to get something bad coming his way. Somehow, that blue eyed man is always on top. McLaren had the fastest car and he was still dominating, pole position, podiums, even fucking won a race against all odds. Max Verstappen not only defied your beliefs around love, but your beliefs in general. He tested your faith. Because in this wednesday afternoon, sitting on your plane sit, next to a crying baby and an exhausted mother, you were wondering if the universe gave a flying damn about how much that man hurt you. Gods Are you listening over there? He left me with no direction, no sense of belonging, stole my pride, joy and clothes. I was left empty. So why the fuck is he the one thriving?

That's why you decided to make matters with your own hands. Karma isn't real? No problem. You would create karma and shove it down his throat. Max Verstappen is not going to hell when he dies? Then, you will make sure he lives through hell while you are around. And the plan starts with a suitcase and an economic class ticket to Bahrain.

The city was scalding. The complete opposite of an early spring in Monaco. Too many people, a legion of tourists who were there for the Grand Prix. You looked around, analyzing the environment, but he was everywhere. In t-shirts, flags, posters, dolls. "The flying dutchman", "The Dutch Lion". That was the worst one. A lion? That motherfucker was just as coward as a toddler being confronted by their angry parent.

Hey. Just landed. Where was the place / was supposed to wait for the driver?

Max: Gate seven. He's already there.

You don't answer. He doesn't deserve an answer.

On the other hand, if the plan was going to work perfectly, you needed him to believe you were desperate for him. Because Max has an ego, he craves the attention. It's Machiavellian, but any current pain is worth the final result. What even is a single text message compared to seeing Max Verstappen’s downfall live and in bright colors?

You walked towards gate seven. Sure enough, the man was there, holding a little white plank with your surname written on it. As if it was needed, since to his left, there he was, wearing his stupia red bull cap, white t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

Classic Max. You weren't taken by surprise, at the end of the day, Verstappen was as predictable as playing chess with a child, at least to you. You knew he was going to be there, just to torment you, prove, somehow, that he never left, his scent, manners, soul, were all surrounding you, everyday since that rainy tuesday when all hell broke loose.

As you approached both men with a confidence acquired from whatever cheap wine they offered on the flight, you could swore you saw a glimpse of relief in his arctic blue eyes.

Max was relieved. Seeing you, full shape, materialized in front of him like a dying man's last vision, as beautiful as ever, maybe even more, left him with a feeling of immense relief. Because ever since the break up, he never saw or spoke to you.

He didn't even understand how the hell that was possible, considering Monaco was just a big gated commune. He had no idea, however, that for those three months you barely left your bed, purposefully avoiding him. The funny thing is, Max could've swore on his career that he saw a different type of glimmer surrounding you, because as you gave him a shy kiss on the cheek, shivers went down his neck, all the way though his spine. There was uncertainty in his mind if, at that moment, you were a salvation from heaven or his worst nightmare.

"I didn't actually think you would come?" He couldn't control the excitement in his voice. To you? Pathetic.

"You know Bahrain has always been my favorite circuit." Lies. "Plus, I really wanted to talk." More lies. Oh, weren't you just the best pretty little liar?

'I agree"

Max had no idea of what you planned. With all the innocence of a little boy in love, who fucked up, he believed that you wanted to try again, that you were able to give him another chance. If for three months you were crying underneath the shower steam, he was begging via text messages, voicemails, red roses and handwritten notes to talk to you and sort things out. In his mind, his words were bad, a disaster. "Your career isn't important, you can't keep crying over this shit." Actually, the words were bad, but the context was even worse. To be fair, you were crying over a minor problem, a grain of sand in the midst of long beach, still, that was the result of a build-up that lasted weeks, days having to suffer countless abuse in your job, burnout was imminent. Haven't you been breaking down, releasing every tension from the stress of your career, you could have actually forgiven him. In contrast, the coldness and nonchalant in his voice when saying "your career isn't important" was what actually got to you. "So, I can't cry over my boss raging at me from mistakes he made, but you can cry whenever your stupid little car isn't 0.5 seconds faster than another car? Why? Because being a Formula 1 racer is the only job that matters? Huh, Max?"

That whole argument spiraled to a rabbit hole of pointing fingers and repressed emotions. Deep down, you knew you hated your job, you wanted to leave every time you stepped a foot in that building, but Max didn't need to know that. And he had no right assuming that it wasn't important.

Arriving at his hotel, the boy next to you handled a room key. 405.

"It's right next to mine"

You gave him a look, the one that said "well, obviously." Another predictable move. God, if any other driver paid enough attention to him, you were convinced he wouldn't be called Mad Max at all, because, in reality, Verstappen was as clear as a crystal glass.

The whole way up to the room, Max was a gentleman, carrying bags, hands on your lower back, guiding the way, walking in front. Just like you never stopped being his girlfriend. Maybe, in his mind, you never did.

The room was brightened with yellow lights, contrasting to the cold of the atmosphere between both ex-lovers. Even though you were trying your best to not give anything away, Max wasn't stupid, he could read you with eyes closed, he knew there was an unsettledness in your movements, he just couldn't point exactly why or what is going on.

"Do you want me to leave? Or do you just want to get it out of the way?" Max didn't quite know what he meant with "it", whatever it was, it has been filling his lungs with deep anxiety. And you knew he was suffering. For a man who was used to get anything he wanted, whenever he wanted, being completely lost in the matters of the heart, hurt his pride and gave him tremendous affliction.

"I was hoping we could catch a nice dinner, properly talk with some good food and wine. What do you say?" The words came off of your tongue spontaneously, as if you didn't rehearse them 300 hundred times during that 11 hour flight.

"Sure, yeah, fine. Even better with people around... That way you won't have the courage to kill me." You could hear the tension in his words when he joked, and he could hear the mockery in your chuckle just as well.

"Pick me up at eight?"

The fact that you made no comment around his stupid joke bothered him to his core. Which is the reason he just nodded and left the room without saying anything else. Just as soon as that door closed, you rushed to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet. You couldn't say what the fuck you were feeling, nausea, pain, anxiety, shame, guilt, rage. You should just open the door, go to his room, throw things around, break glasses, throw his suitcase on the hotel pool, tell the press he is leaving red bull and get on a plan, never look back. Having to wait for revenge to be served cold is what drives everyone insane, and no one talks about that.

Countless of hours later, after two long crying sessions, and screaming, and burning pages of your journal, you were ready. Dressed up casually. You wouldn't give him too much, because you knew he was expecting to show up as beautiful as ever, Lady Di in her revenge dress, so the fact that you were just dressed as his Y/N, raw, honest beauty, broke his heart. Because when he opened the door to your room, he was taken by your perfume and your pure self, just like he did for three years every time he came home from a race weekend and you were waiting for him on the couch.

"Come on, Max, you don't need to give this look." You were surprised by how effective flirting was in maskaring hate.

"What look?"

"Like I'm your long lost childhood love you encountered 20 years later." He shook his head, slightly.

"You're something like that."

Something like that. What the fuck did he mean?

"We should go." You said a little bit more desperate than you hoped. Maybe due to the fact that you were dying to leave. "Lead the way."

God. Wasn't middle eastern food the key to all your problems? Maybe if the scent of blended spices and dates filled your nostrils before, there would be no reason for any of this.

For the past couple of hours, you were focused on trying to enjoy the delights Sakhir had to offer.

Notice the word trying. Because with Max Verstappen looking like a god sent angel in front of you, no amount of cloves and cinnamon would be able to erase the scent of wanting that was emanating from him.

Max was paying extra attention to you. Every time you looked excited about whatever you were tasting, he could catch a proper breath. However, one look into your eyes later and he has filled with thousands of questions in his head.

"So, what is the strategy for this weekend?"

"Do you actually want to talk about my racing strategies for the weekend?" Yes. You did. How were you supposed to ruin his life if you had no clue what was going on with the only thing that mattered to him. "You said you wanted to talk, Y/ N."

"We are talking." He raised his eyebrow. You sighed, stomach twisting in ten thousand knots.

"Fine..."

Before you could select which carefully constructed phrase you compartmentalized for this very moment, Max, with his usual quickness, took the upfront.

"Please, come back to me."

It's not that you weren't expecting that he would say something like this, you just weren't expecting how much your internal organs would fire up as a response. In that particular moment, you could swore you forgot all of the lines of the plan you spent one month obsessing over. He broke your character, for just a slight of a second, a fraction.

"You really hurt me." For the first time in this whole entire trip, you were being honest.

"I know. I am truly deeply sorry. I fucked up."

You just stared. Contemplating if you were going to let him talk a little more. The dark twisted part of your brain was enjoying seeing him act as pathetic as you once did for him. That same side of your brain was already collecting ideas. Screw that one month evil plan, Max was giving everything you need to do even more damage than you anticipated.

"Let me show you how much I regret it. Let me make it up to you." The phrase was constructed as if he was asking for permission, but both of you knew, deep down, that he wasn't backing up any soon.

"These past few months were hell to me, Max."

The words were true, but there was no emotion in your voice to actually reflect the pain you went through. Max had no idea. He would never guess.

It seemed to him that you were giving something, but a weird feeling in his gut was sparking a doubt that you were hiding something.

"I will fix this up."

His legs under the table were shaking like the first time he stepped out of a Formula 1 car. Max was speaking as he was walking barefoot on shattered glass. There is no way for you to fix this up. Only me. You wanted to answer. You couldn't.

"Are you excited for the race?"

The deviation of the subject showed Max you were uncomfortable, which is why he decided that was enough of pushing. He didn't know there was a strategy underneath your tongue.

"Are you?" He fired back, letting himself taste a bit of the wine that you chose. It was bitter, dry, unlike the sweet rosés you'd usually go for.

"Thrilled." Your lips curled into a smirk stained with maroon liquid. Something shifted in the tone of your words. It was malicious, Max could sense it, but he was a man after all, guile and sexiness go hand-in-hand, specially coming from a girl holding a glass of wine.

ready to head back, whenever you want to go."

"Are we not going to order dessert?"

Nope. He wanted to leave. Matter of fact, as soon as possible. He wanted to take you to his room, or your room, whichever one is closest to the elevator door, and peel off every lying secret you were hiding behind your sore, tired eyes.

"Do you want dessert?"

You looked at his eyes, then his lips, then his neck, back at his eyes. Licked your lips, the bitterness of the wine reminding you of pure sex.

"Maybe not from here."

You knew you had control over him by the way he looked at you, like a puppy begging for food. Max didn't even try to hide how much he was longing to just touch you in any way, shape, or form. God, men were so easy.

A few formalities and street lights later, you were back to the golden architecture of the place you were staying. It wasn't your first time in the country, but it was your first time in this hotel, hadn't it been the circumstances of your visit, you could have actually enjoyed the experience.

The elevator door shut, fourth floor was a short ride. Helped to ease the tension. Not too much, but just enough.

"I can't find the key to my room."

Max knew it was inside your purse, you knew it too, obviously. There was just no reason to bother looking it up.

"Hm. Thankfully, I got you." He held the white car between his fingers, flashing them with a teenage boy smile.

"My hero,"

For the first time during this night, you felt the tension leaving with the winds of Sakhir. Sex was not on your plan, in fact, quite the opposite.

However, you forgot there was no such thing as a plan when it came to Max Verstappen. Specially not when it came to desire and love. Plus, a girl is allowed to enjoy herself, it's not like you were going to get soft on him now, right?

The closing door blocked all the noise. Suddenly, the room was carried with heavy air, lost faith, gained hope, misery, all at once. If you listened closely, you were able to hear Max's heart beating irregular beats. It felt to him like he was about to have a stroke, a heart attack, a breakdown, or all of the above. You were danger, your presence was too powerful. He needed to get control back, or he would just spiral.

But you would not let him. Not right now.

Just as quick as you left him that night, you were pulling him by his neck. Lips connected like they were never meant to leave each other in the first place. Looking for each other's air because the room was getting smaller and smaller. This was the point of the night in which you didn't need to perform. You were not doing it for the plot, the revenge, you were doing it because you desperately craved him.

Max had only a few times seen you this way. It was unusual, but he wasn't complaining. He didn't quite like the fact that if you asked him to kneel down and bark, he'd do it, however. And he was afraid you'd notice it and just torture him the whole night. The boy was just a little too late.

"You said you wanted to make it up to me." Max didn't know how you managed to get a full sentence out in the middle of what was going on, if he opened his mouth all that would leave his throat were pathetic sighs and moans. "Then prove it."

You pushed him away, slightly. Max's chest underneath his navy blue t-shirt didn't hide his erratic breathing.

"I am proving it to you."

He leaned in, but was met with another slight push. This time, mixed between his confusion, was frustration. Just as much as you wanted him, he wanted you. No, he needed you. Needed to be close to you as if there was a war going on outside and that was the only way to keep both of you safe.

"No." No? What the hell no meant? "Kneel."

Your command was firm, imperative. You were no stranger to take charge in the bedroom with Max, but it usually lasted around five minutes, a way to spice things up or push him to the edge until he finally broke. In a way, it was fake-control, because you knew it was just a matter of time until you were at his mercy. But not this time.

"What?" He heard you well, the question was put there simply as a way of making you change your mind.

"You heard me, Verstappen. Kneel and beg for me."

Max didn't have a chance to respond or brush it off with a scoffed laugh, your hands were already on his shoulders, applying force to bring him down. It wasn't gravity the one who put Max Verstappen to his knees, it was the magnetic force of your words and the torment of his desires for you.

"Schatje, come on."

"Hm. That all you got?"

The truth is, Max was running out of protests. You knew it took him a lot to put his pride to the side.

He wanted you back, but there was no way he was going to beg for it. Max Verstappen doesn't beg, for anyone. Actually, he never needed to, he always got what he wanted. But his resources were coming to an end, because your posture and the way you were demanding the room, left him with no choice.

With the gentlest touch, like you were made out of the rarest crystal, Max's hand came to the back of your calves, slowly making their way to the back of your knees. He stopped there, didn't dare going further up. His hands were big enough to almost wrap around it completely, and he applied pressure. It was a simple gesture, but goddamn it you missed his fingers touching you, you didn't care where.

You looked down, right hand travelling to his hair, fingers intertwining between some strands, making a mess. He always looked beautiful with messy hair.

"Please." A kiss on your right knee. "Please, forgive me." A kiss on the left knee. "I will do anything for you."

The hand that was on his hair made its way to his cheek. Your thumb brushing the soft skin underneath his eyes. Max was flushing, the blood was rushing everywhere through his veins, heart pounding, maybe after this he should cancel his weekend, because there is no way he would make it out alive.

Then, all of the sudden, your gentle rub became a slap. Not a rough slap, in fact, only a couple of taps, to call out his attention. And, damn, maybe a hard slap would be less humiliating than this. And it didn't help when you had a devilish grin in your lips.

"Come on, pretty boy, just a little bit more. You're almost there. Look at me."

He was. Like a puppy. Like a dog starving. His pupils were so dilated you couldn't tell his eyes were pale blue. You were hell. That wasn't you. Looked like you, wore your clothes, the same old vanilla perfume, but if his whole life Max saw you as his sweet girl, this time he was seeing you as a mythical creature, completely transformed into something else.

"I fucked up. I can't live without you. Please, Y/N, I am about to go insane. I fucking love you, just come back to me, please. I can't make it without you." His chin rested somewhere on top of your legs.

You smiled. Humiliating Max sexually was not a part of the plan, but it was so satisfactory you could go straight back home with fulfillment in your bones.

"Good enough."

You backed out and walked straight to the door. In a sudden movement, Max got up, his legs felt like jelly, his head was spinning. There was no time for him to catch up, you had already left. He heard something like a see you tomorrow, but wasn't completely sure. In that particular moment he was out. Interpreting his feelings wasn't always easy, and right now it sure as hell was the hardest thing for him to do, considering there was a mix of everything inside his guts.

It took all of your strength to not go back, just to get a glimpse of how Max Verstappen looked completely desolated, alone in his hotel room, frustrated, confused. Exactly like you were that afternoon, three months ago. If you suffered, he was going to suffer the exact same thing, but ten times more.

"Max, you good? Looks like you're about to throw up."

Sitting in a round table, his salad was untouched, his cup still filled with water. The voices were mushy, he couldn't tell which driver elaborated that question. Truth is, he wasn't paying attention to anything else, too busy looking around, searching for any glimpse of you. Anything to demonstrate that you were still there, because you could probably be back home by now, laughing while sitting on your sofa, seeing his misery on live television.

He was brought back to the real world with Charles' voice commanding his attention, because finally, for the first time during that stupid lunch, someone said something that actually mattered.

"Mate, what is Y/N doing here? I thought you two broke up."

"Where is she?" His voice sounded so desperate, so pathetic, Lando couldn't help but chuckle.

"Just saw her talking to Honer when I passed the Red Bull garage. Could've swore I was seeing things, but it was actually her. Are you two back together?"

Midst sentence Max was already gone, rushing through the crowd as fast as he could before it was too late. He looked desperate, like he was looking for water in a desert island.

The meters to the garage seemed like the distance to the moon. His eyes were filled by the sigh of Horner, talking to someone else, not relevant, nor for him, because the someone else wasn't you. The conversation seemed important, and it would be rude to interrupt, but Max couldn't care less.

"Christian, where is Y/N?"

Horner turned around to look at his driver, bright fake smile. A little annoyed that he interrupted, but there was no way he was going to show Verstappen any annoyance.

"Well, hello to you too, Max. I was meaning to ask, what is she doing here? Thought you left her."

"Where the fuck is she?" Max asked again, this time his tone showed little to no patience.

Horner narrowed his eyes, if anyone else in this world talked to him like this, God would feel sorry for them. But again, the golden boy could do anything he pleased.

"If I'm not mistaken, she was looking for you. My guess is that she is waiting on your driver room."

The boy left. No thank you, no sorry, just simply vanished like dust.

The fragile door was opened with violence. This time, Max was quicker, not giving you a chance to play your game.

Eventually, after two days of deep contemplation, torture and screaming into his pillow, Max decided that he had enough of your games. Now, both of you were going to play things his way. Or so he thought.

"Why the fuck are you here? What the fuck do you want?"

You were sitting, legs crossed. His presence was dominating, but you didn't break character.

"What happened to good mornings? No one taught you proper manners?"

"Cut the fucking bullshit, Y/N. Why are you doing this?"

You got up, making your way towards him. Not too close and Max thanked God for that, because one more step and he would just break down again, crumble into crushed pieces of a boy. However, standing from a safe distance, his mind was taken by frustration, he wanted answers just as well as he wanted to rip your clothes off and make you pay for the little stunt you pulled two nights ago.

"I want to see you suffer."

You knew he would eventually caught up. It's Max, he is smart. And if anyone would understand the reasonings behind your feelings, it would be him.

So there was no reason to hide your true intentions anymore.

Max nodded, hands on his waist. He expressed some sort of laugh as a substitute for just yelling and screaming. He had done that already.

"How's that going for you?"

"Not nearly as close as the amount of suffering I am hoping for." Max was taken back by the cruelness and coldness in your words. "I want you to regret leaving me 'til the day you are buried six feet under ground. If you suffered ten times of what I did for those past months, still, wouldn't be enough.”

"I don't know how to break this to you, sweetheart. But making me kneel and beg, although I appreciate the effort, it was cute, isn't really close to the pain of getting dumped. You'll have to work harder than that."

Your lips curled into a wide spread smile.

"I know."

Up and close to his eyes, between your delicate fingers, a medium sized black piece of something he had an idea of, but didn't want to believe it was real.

"What is this?"

"You should get going, Maxie, quali is about to begin."

"You removed a piece from my fucking car?! Are you fucking insane?! This is psychotic, Jesus fucking Christ!" His eyes widened, his hands went through his hair in a desperate act. "How the fuck did you even manage to do that?!"

"A lady never tells."

Max thanked the universe when he heard a knock on the door, because God only knows what his next move was going to be, hadn't he been interrupted by GP at that second.

"Buddy, we have 10 minutes, you better come." He looked at the clueless man standing at the door, then back at you, who put on your best innocent smile, hands behind your back like you just didn't do the most devilish, disgraceful thing he has ever seen.

"Yeah, okay, give me two seconds.

As GP closed the door, Max took a step closer to you. He contemplated letting people know, snitching on you, but he held his anger and shoved the burning flames to the back of his throat. He wasn't going to play your game. If you were bad, Max Verstappen was worse.

Max's next move wasn't what you were expecting at all. With the gentleness of a first kiss, he brought his lips to your forehead, like he always did before stepping to his car, however, this time, taking a little bit longer, savouring the feeling of your skin beneath him.

"See you later, Schatje."

You were confused. Angry, even, by his reaction.

And then, when he finally left, you felt it. The shame, the guilt. You knew you went too far, but you were too blind by hatred, and too hungry for seeing him break.

On the other hand, Max walked into his car with the confidence and determination he hadn't felt in a while. It was Red Bull. This was a secure place, there were a innumerous amount of people there watching his fucking car. There was no chance that you, clueless girl, could just walk up there and steal a piece of whatever that thing was. God, you didn't even know how a Formula 1 car worked, how the hell were you supposed to remove an important piece? Max thought, hoped, wished, that you just took something he could manage to work without, and it was what gave him a little bit of relief stepping into the car.

Nonetheless, as quick as the relief came, it was washed away by a thought so much darker, what if you had help?

"Hey, Paul." Max called out for the man to his left.

"The car is good, yeah?"

"You tell me, mate." Paul joked around, not quite understanding the driver's question.

"No, I mean, the car is intact, right? Nothing missing?"

Paul arched an eyebrow.

"Of course, Max, it's all good."

The driver nodded and soon enough left with his car.

Qualifying started. You watched nervously through the screen in the garage. Maybe you crossed the line. On the other hand, you knew Max wasn't stupid, he made sure you knew with that ridiculous kiss. No other man could drive you insane. Two days later you were reading him like your favorite book, now, you couldn't tell a word inside his brain, except for, of course, how badly he was cursing you.

And boy... He was. Every time he made a turn and the car trembled he found a new name to curse you inside his mind. Thank God the FlA couldn't hear thoughts, at least twenty thousand fines were proffered only in the first five minutes.

The car was shit, unsteady. It was honestly scaring Max how unpredictable it was. Never in his entire career he felt so uneasy with a vehicle, not even in his rookie years.

"There is something really wrong with the car."

Max added in a frustrated radio message before firing back to his garage.

The crew was there, waiting for him. He stepped out of the car and let the engineers take a look.

You managed to catch a glimpse of him, even though his face was hiding behind the helmet, you knew he was contorted in desperation. You couldn't believe it. For better or for worse, your plan fucking worked.

The engineers cleared the way and Max tried again, completely incredulous on how you managed to ruin his entire race weekend. There was no way your relationship was going to make it after this. Max didn't even know if he was going to make it after this, he might just shove the car into a wall and die inside of it just to prove a point, watch you suffer with guilt until the end of your life.

By the last lap he was third.

Q2 was a bit better than Q1, that until someone crashed their car. Perfect, not only were you ruining his day, but the universe also decided to collaborate with your evil plan. Maybe you got Max's rivals to be a part of it. Maybe the whole entire team and crew were by your side.

By Q3 Max started to actually considering driving his car to the wall. The breaks weren't working. He couldn't break, at all. You fucking destroyed his breaks. You toyed with his car like it was a lego piece. At the end of that session, taking seventh place, Max stormed out of the car and threw his gloves on the floor. He just wanted to get everything off, his clothes, his helmet, his shoes. He wanted to go back home, to his cats, to his pillow, cry for hours.

Yes, the disaster of a bad qualifying hurt, but it was the heartbreak that got to him. Never in a million years he thought the love of his life would be capable of doing something so cruel and evil.

That wasn't normal. A normal thing would be for you to burn his hoodies or slash the tyres of his Porsche. You manipulated his car, possibly messing with his safety. You weren't the love of his life, you were a full blown psychopath. Which is the reason Max thanked that you weren't in his driver's room when he came back.

That being said, he wasn't so blessed when he opened his hotel room and found you sitting on his bed, wearing the same clothes as you were in the afternoon.

"Are you fucking for real? You have some guts coming into my room thinking that I would actually want to see you. I take everything back, I don't want you! I fucking hate you! I want you gone! I want to never look at your face again! You are the most terrible person I have ever met."

He was shouting, yelling, clenching his teeth and jawline. Stomping around like a maniac while the explosive bursts of verbal thunder left his mouth.

"Max, please, let me explain." You didn't raise your voice, you couldn't, you were wrong here.

"Explain what?! Huh?! How you manipulated my car?! Played around with my safety?! Almost killed me?! God, Y/N, I love you and you do this? This isn't normal, this isn't alright, this isn't something you fix with an explanation. There is no fixing this."

His voice became lower, not because he wasn't angry, he still was outrageous, but now the sadness of a heartbreak were too consuming, surpassing every emotion that was battling inside his mind and heart. There were tears in his eyes and they were the bluest you have ever seen. His lips were pink, trembling. His cheeks and nose were red. You felt an agonizing need to hold him.

"Max, you need to breathe." Poor choice of words, you could see it in his entire face as his eyes became shallow. "I didn't alter your car."

Max was about to lash out again, but he didn't believe his ears. As much as he hated you right now, you caught his attention. He didn't slow down, though, his chest was heavy, he was close to breaking down.

"Come again?"

"I didn't take any piece from your car!"

He could see you were crying now and he could swear you seemed honest, like a child trying to prove to their parents that they weren't the one in the wrong.

"Yes, you fucking did, you showed me! Do you seriously think I am going to believe your bullshit right now?"

"No, I didn't, this isn't anything! It's just a stupid piece of plastic!"

In a desperate attempt you held the black piece close to his face.

His vision was blurry, by tears, by confusion and hatred. He caught the piece and analyzed every corner of it. It didn't seem legit, it seemed, like you said, just a piece of plastic.

"What the actual-"

"-I just wanted you to believe I did. I wanted to scare you. I wanted to make you doubt yourself. I would never do anything that would actually put you in danger, Max, I love you. I wanted to prove a point." He couldn't believe it. In fact, he thought he was hallucinating the whole weekend and this was all a twisted nightmare, "Yes, it was selfish, I am wrong, I crossed the line. But I thought you were going to catch up to it. I didn't believe it was going to work, you are you, Max"

Now, add skepticism to the list of emotions inside his gut.

"But the fucking car was shit! The breaks weren't working! I couldn't drive that thing at all!"

"That has nothing to do with me."

Max couldn't tell if he was relieved by the fact that you didn't try to kill and you still loved him, or felt betrayed by how you manipulated his reality to the point he drove like shit just because he believed something was wrong with the car. Or maybe Red Bull just fucking sucks. Both later options were not respectful outcomes to him.

"Please, say something. I am so sorry, Max! I regret it. I should have never done it, I know. I am so sorry. I understand if you never want to see me again and, God, I'll even move from Monaco if that's what you like. I'll disappear, completely."

Your words hit him. He thought about them for a split second. The thought of you leaving his life, to him, was death. Sure, what you did was not okay, he was heartbroken, it would take time to heal. However, the more he thought about it, the more willing he was to try. If you were able to give him a second chance, he should give you the benefit of the doubt. You were taken by passion, by heartache and overwhelming sadness, Max wasn't a stranger to strong bursts of emotions and impulsiveness, which is why, deep down, he understood why you did what you did. Maybe, if he was in your shoes, he would've done worse.

"We are too old for shit like this, Y/N."

You could feel he was a bit more relaxed, which is why you felt an openness to just hold him. You didn't care if he wasn't going to hold you back, you just wanted to show him how much you regret your childish ploy.

"I know, baby, I am so sorry, I love you."

Fair enough, Max didn't hold you back. Instead, he pushed you away, another idea forming in the back of his twisted, unserious mind.

"You're going to work a little bit harder than this, sweetheart, if you want my forgiveness."

In his eyes, you could see there was still anger painted in the black of his pupils, but mixed with the gleam of his almost dried tears, you noticed a different kind of sparkle, one he saw in your eyes two nights ago.

"Do you want me to kneel and beg?"

Max took a step back.

"I want you to kneel, but I think your mouth can do better things than begging."

There was a feeling of delirium happening in the back of your mind, that carefully traveled through your veins as if you had take the most powerful drug available in the market. In just a matter of seconds you were down on your knees, hands playing with the hem of Max's shorts. You looked up, as if asking for permission to take them off. To Max, that was a vision out of the walls of the louvre, you, down, eyes sparkling with sultry glamour, mouth watering.

With an attentive movement, you pulled down his shorts, leaving a trail of kisses on the inside of his thigh, making sure you were scratching every inch of his skin, treating him as if he was the cure to all your worries and troubles. He might as well be.

"Get to it, my love, no teasing."

"Where's the fun in that?" You asked with a tint of playfulness in your voice.

"You're not really in a position to have fun. You either put those pretty lips to use or I will leave you here with nothing."

"Well, since you asked so politely."

You completely removed his boxers, facing his cock. Your mouth watered. You made sure you spread enough saliva around, licking every inch of him, paying extra attention to his sensitive spots you were well familiar with, before taking him with gluttony, tasting every bit he was giving.

Your hands were everywhere, scratching his thighs, caressing his balls, while you moved your head, feeling him in the back of your throat, around your lips.

Max was in pure bliss, his organs were electrified.

He swore you got better since the break up. Or maybe it was the absence that made it much more intimate, filthy, delicious.

"Jesus, Schatje, you're so dirty." He ran his fingers through your hair until he decided to guide your movements with his hands, slowly, making sure the pace was comfortable for both of you. "You look so pretty when you're doing what I want."

He went a bit further and you gagged in response, moaning right after. The vibrations coming from your throat sent Max into a frenzy. You swirled your tongue around his head, looking up through your eyelashes, exactly the way he liked. You loved giving Max blowjobs, it was as pleasurable for you as for him and he could tell, and there was nothing hotter to Max than seeing you get aroused by giving him pleasure.

Each time his cock hit your throat, he could feel he was getting closer.

"Don't stop, keep sucking me off, keep going." You just obeyed, feeling yourself get hotter by the second, you knew your panties were gone by now, yet you still craved more. You needed to taste him more, you needed to take back the time you missed. "Fuck-Y/N, fucking hell. Just like that.

You're so good."

The praise was everything, because you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve him. Yet, here he was, giving you all of him, all of his time and body, the best parts.

One more deeper thrust and you gagged again, the reaction made you squeeze his thighs. Max shut his eyes tight, groaning and moaning a bit too loud, but he couldn't control himself, not when you were on his knees, taking him so well, doing your job like a freaking pornstar.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum." The liquid was everywhere inside your throat. He made sure he finished before removing his cock from inside your mouth, drops of drool spilling on the floor. "You better swallow every drop or we'll do it all over again."

You did as he asked, you wouldn't dare do it otherwise. You stood up, looking right into his eyes as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out.

"Good fucking slut."

In a sinful act, Max spat in your tongue, holding your hair tightly in a knot between his palm. The move was so dirty, so filthy, you could come just by relieving the scene alone.

With desperate hands, you started to remove your top and then proceeded to his shirt. Meanwhile, Max was practically ripping out your skirt, abruptly removing every piece of fabric that dared touch your skin.

His kiss was demanding, hard, rough, thrilling.

There was a primal instinct awaken inside you, one that wanted to be with him and serve him for the rest of your life. One that could live in beds with him until you grow old.

Max pushed you to the bed, body towering yours.

Your hands desperately tried to grab his neck, his back, bring him closer, if it was any possible. You felt his hand sliding slowly between your thighs, until he reached your folds. He made sure to spread the wetness around, making a mess on your inner thighs and hip bones.

"Max, please." You pleated, voice cracking, there was no way you could form coherent sentences, your mind was hazy, no other thought inside your head except Max Verstappen and his hands.

"Look at you." His voice was dark, husky. "So wet just from sucking me off. Do you want more?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Then ask for it, use your words."

That man had you in the palm of his hands. If he asked you to go to war for him, at that moment, in your situation, you would.

"Please, Max, please." Your vocals were stuck down your throat, you were struggling to speak, the sensations of his hands rubbing your clit ever so slightly you could barely say they were in there was just too overwhelming.

"Pathetic, try again." He placed a kiss on your collarbone, then on the curve of your neck. His lips were wet and hot, a little bit swollen from the roughness of your kisses.

"Max, fuck me, please, stuff me, use me, do Whatever you want."

Max stopped every touch. Looked deep inside your eyes with a smirk on his lips that you just wanted to slap it off, or kiss it off, whichever one your reflexes allowed.

He scrunched his nose and giggle, it was a way of mocking you, you knew that. You knew you sounded pathetic, you didn't care. The humiliation was not crossing your mind, nothing to worry about, it wasn't worth it. He was. Max was worth it.

"Stupid little thing, trying to pull stunts on me, then begging me to use you like you were some sort of cheap whore."

You moaned in response, lifting your hips to meet his. In a firm movement, Max held your hips down with his right leg, applying pressure on your lower belly, making it unable for you to move.

"Stop lifting your hips like a goddamn whore, you're going to take whatever I decide to give you."

He wasn't treating you kindly, you knew there was still resentment somewhere inside him. Sure, there was. Max knew it too. At that moment he was using you, taking his frustration out. But it wasn't like you haven't done the same, only your way of torturing him was a bit less fun than his.

You felt yourself sinking into Max's cock, involuntarily you sunk your nails on his back, trying to fight back the scorching sensation filling you up, making you whole. Max's rhythm was slow, painfully slow, which was unlike him, he never fucked you like this, always fast, slamming, pounding. This was even more overwhelming than his usual desperation and roughness, because it wasn't hurting but it felt like you simply couldn't take it, the lack of pace was driving you insane.

Max knew it, it was taking every single tear of strength left in his tired body to keep it slow, because you felt too good, too perfect wrapped around him. He missed your feeling, he missed your whimpers and cries.

"You feel so good, Schatje, like you were made only for my cock. Nothing more. Too useless to anything else, couldn't even figure out how to take a piece out of my car." He laughed, replaying the scene back in his memory. "Stupid little thing."

You cried out because you felt that he, without thinking, went a little bit harder when remembering what happened. If you wanted him to give you what you needed, you would have to push him only a little bit. You lost the war, you know you did, but there were still some battles left.

"Come on, Max. Slow on tracks, slow in bed. You used to be better than this. What are you trying to do? Fuck me to sleep?"

He looked down on you, with contempt. How dare you talk to him this way? But it was a good try, he was close to snapping, making you regret the whole week, going too hard until you couldn't remember why you were on this earth for.

You were scared of his eyes, how dark they were, but your stomach flipped with the thrill of waiting for his next move.

"Oh, she can talk!" His voice was drenched in disdain. "Let's fix this."

Not even stopping, Max parted your lips only to shove the lace fabric of your panties into your mouth. Fucking bastard. You protested, but now even you had to admit the sounds coming from you were a joke.

"Much better."

Then, in a sudden, fierce movement, he flipped you. Stomach down the mattress, face pressed against the egyptian sheets, a luxury that only Bahrain could provide. Max's left hand was pressing your head further down as he started to pick up the pace, slamming hard and faster. He was, in fact, using you as a personal fucktoy, but you didn't mind it, the feeling was too good.

You felt euphoric, your blood was buzzing. You tried to hold the sheets, grab something, but there was no way for you to control your body. The sounds coming from your mouth were involuntary, so were the one's coming from Max.

It was too much for him, he knew he wouldn't last longer. He never used you like this before, it made him feel like a god. No amount of championship wins would come close to the feeling of being buried deep down inside you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck- Look at what you made me do, fucking slut." You could feel the tears coming down. Good tears. The hot kind. "Are you going to cry on me now?"

You saw one of his hands coming to your mouth, removing the fabric and tossing far away to the other side of the room.

"Yes, Max, oh God, fuck."

He groaned, the wet noises were feeling the room.

The familiar sensation of fire pooling low in your abdomen started to show up. If he asked you to hold on, God forgive you, there was no way in hell.

You heard him moan a mixture of curse words and your name, but your senses were coming blurry, as if you were about to pass out.

"Max, 'm gonna cum."

"Gonna cum inside you, baby."

He pressed down, letting his weight fall on top of you, that's when you felt the tightness around your organs being released. The sounds coming from you were too much for Max to hold on any longer, not even seconds later he was breaking down. It was animalistic, filthy, pornographic, even.

He never took it out, he stayed inside of you for minutes after he was done. You were too sensitive to take any movement. That experience was whatever religious people were trying to reach with their existence. Who needed faith when you had Max Verstappen as a lover?

You barely noticed that his weight left the top of your naked body, only flipping back around when you saw him coming from the bathroom with a towel. He sat down next to you, breathing slowly, gently rubbing the fabric between your thighs.

"Are you okay?" You nodded, thinking you blacked out for a second. "Do you want a glass of water?"

"I just want you to lay down here."

He did as you asked, letting you wrap yourself around him. You could tell there were no bad feelings around, everything vanished into thin air.

It was just you and Max, same as ever.

"Do you forgive me, Max?"

He placed a long lasting kiss in your right temple.

"Is it bad if I said you should pull stuff like this more often just so that we could repeat this?"

You giggled, fingers tracing drawings on his stomach.

"I think we can figure another game that won't risk our relationship burning to ashes if something goes wrong."

"Fair enough." You felt him adjust his body. "And, yes, I do forgive you."

You needed the reassurance, Max knew that. He knew you. You were a melody from his favorite childhood song, one that he listened to it and it never left his mind.

There was no letting you go. It would always be complex and easy at the same time. But any complication was worth it if it meant you would never leave his side.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #f1 smut #max verstappen fanfic

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astrolook · 3 days ago

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💬🌟 Talking Planets: How Your Synastry Speaks Volumes 🗣️💞

Note: These are all based on my personal observations and patterns I’ve noticed over the years. Western astrology based. Let me know in the comments if any of this hits home for you! And feel free to leave what doesn’t resonate.

Synastry placements in the 8th or 12th are my least favorite. First off, the 8th house is not just about sex, and honestly, it’s overrated. The 8th house is about what the house person can offer like sex, resources, finances, or all of it. Not just sex. I don't agree with astrologers who's like "Mars/Venus/Sun in 8th house overlay?, Wow! It's intense, karmic bond...bla..bla..bla" or some $#!T.

Most 8th house synastry I’ve seen is either one-sided, purely sexual, or has that gold digger vibe. The planet person usually wants something from the house person.

12th house overlays are heavily one-sided too. If it’s mutual, kind of like the 8th house, it can get toxic fast. If I’m really looking for intimacy, I’d check the 2nd,4th, 5th, or 7th house overlays.

8th and 12th house placements, in both synastry and composite, usually show up in hot, chaotic relationships that burn out pretty soon. These overlays are also common in gold digger setups, sugar mommy/daddy situations, "convenience" relationships, marrying for money and all that. Both 8th and 12th is not SOULMATE BOND.

Now with the aspects, personally, I don’t consider synastry aspects with more than a 3° orb. It’s just not as effective, at least from what I’ve seen over the years. Anything under 3° really shows up in real life, good or bad.

Also, conjunctions are seriously overrated when it comes to relationships, yes but it also point to no growth and stuck in the same place but when it comes to family members, friendships, etc conjunctions are great aspects to have and trines too. But what I’ve noticed is, people who had a lot of trines and squares in their synastry ended up having relationships or marriages that were not only successful, but also exciting, balanced, and helped both people grow individually. Like real soul growth.

And let’s be clear, just because you have something like Venus square Ascendant in synastry doesn’t mean the other person finds you unattractive or ugly. People always try to oversimplify these things.

Every aspect, overlay, or placement whether it’s in synastry, composite, or natal has multiple interpretations. It might resonate, or it might not. But there are so many layers. Am seeing often that Venus square ASC interpreted as Venus finding the ASC ugly / unattractive or aren't their type. Nope, there's more to that.

Like, Venus square Ascendant could mean:

Venus finds you attractive, but your style or habits are a bit off to them but they’re still into you anyway.

They’re genuinely not attracted to you, and that’s just what it is and it's the most common interpretation I have seen out there..

Venus is like, “You’re not even my type, but I don’t know why I’m into you... but here I am.”

Venus feels insecure around you, thinks you’re out of their league and doesn't know how to approach you and fear of rejection too..

Venus is intrigued because you’re totally different from the people they’ve dated before.

Venus finds you exotic or intimidating maybe you’re from a different background, or just someone they never imagined being into, but they are. Like a forbidden, unreachable kind of thing.

Do you see the difference now? It’s never just one meaning. Astrology is like peeling an onion. The more you peel the deeper you get.

Signs work in a way that’s way more straightforward than people think. If you’re a Gemini Moon, you’re gonna naturally vibe with other Gemini Moons, Suns, Venuses, or Mars placements, no matter where they fall in the chart. It just clicks.

Take my earlier example about Venus square Ascendant and if Venus is in the 8th house in Gemini squaring your Ascendant in Virgo, that can actually get along pretty well. Venus might see the Ascendant as a sexy librarian they’d wanna go out with and Venus be like "I kinda feel insecured but damn she/he is sexy, would they even look at me?". Totally different from Venus in the 8th house in Capricorn squaring an Ascendant in Aries. In that case, Venus in Capricorn would find the Aries Ascendant super exotic and alluring, but also probably a bit intimidating. It’s not as comfortably aligned as the Gemini example as it’s more of an intense, magnetic attraction. Venus is like, “I can’t explain it, but I’m drawn to you.”

So, signs matter just as much as the placements. The vibe changes completely depending on the sign involved. This is how I read synastry.

Aspects don't exist in a vacuum.

When reading a synastry overlay or aspect, even in natal, we have to look at where the planet is actually falling. For example, going back to my earlier point about Venus square Ascendant, the surface-level aspect alone doesn’t tell the full story. Venus square Asc in general is one thing, but Venus in the 8th house squaring Asc in Libra is a completely different vibe than Venus in the 8th squaring Asc in Capricorn.

That placement matters.

When I’m reading synastry, composite, or natal charts, I always look at where the planets are and what house they’re in when I’m reading aspects. Like, instead of just saying “your Venus conjunct their Saturn,” I look at where that conjunction is happening. Because Venus conjunct Saturn in the 1st, 2nd, 5th or 11th house is not the same as Venus conjunct Saturn in the 8th or 12th.

If it’s happening in the 8th or 12th… yeah, no thanks. See you next lifetime. But if it’s in houses like the 1st, 2nd, 5th, 7th or 11th or something with more grounding or shared values, there’s actually potential there.

It’s not just what aspect you have, it’s where it lands. That’s what really gives the context.

Also, reading synastry like “Sun in 1st house overlay” isn’t enough. That’s just the general version and it’s honestly basic like a default theme on your phone. I’ve already made posts on Moon and Sun house overlays, but if you really want to understand how it actually plays out in your chart, you have to look deeper.

Like, instead of just saying “your Sun is in their 1st house,” it should be “your Sun in 1st house Gemini falls on their 9th house Gemini.” That’s how I read synastry. That’s when the picture becomes clear. You’ll actually start to see what’s going on between two people, instead of guessing based on default interpretations.

It makes interpreting way easier too. Those general meanings might or might not resonate, but when you look at both people's chart placements like that, it hits. It’ll either confirm things or call you or your partner out on stuff that’s hidden or not being talked about. That’s the kind of synastry reading that actually tells the truth.

Also, if there are too many Moon aspects or Venus aspects to the partner, but the other person doesn’t have as many Venus/Moon aspects back to yours, it could be a sign of unrequited love or just a crush that’s not going to really develop into something deeper. It’s a one-sided vibe, and those rarely turn into anything long-term or fulfilling.

Similarly, if there are a lot of Sun aspects to the other person’s chart, it means the Sun person’s identity is probably way too tied to the other person’s validation. Over time, this can lead to some unhealthy dynamics where the Sun person becomes codependent, constantly needing the other person’s approval to feel good about themselves. It’s all about balance, otherwise it’s a recipe for emotional burnout and codependent behavior.

So, that’s all for today, go away now! ✌️😎🌙

Wanna go deeper into the layers of your placements? DM me for a complete astrology reading or a 5 year/8 year marriage report or synastry reading🌙💬 and check out my pinned post for pricing + details 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 4 hours ago

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

It’s important to have at least some basic knowledge about pregnancy and birth - whether it’s something you see in your future, something you know you don’t want at all, or something that doesn’t apply to your body.

That’s not only because you may one day want to support a pregnant friend (and it’ll come in handy to already know the basics), but also because pregnancy and birth are essential parts of biology and human health.

I think it’s really important not to treat these topics as sensitive, loaded, or shameful, as something you should only learn about if it affects you personally. That kind of silence only makes it easier for misinformation and myths to spread.

Pregnancy is something that can happen to around 50% of the world’s population. Everyone deserves accurate information about it! Everyone living in a human body should know about human bodies. Simple as that.

So, let’s get into some myths and misconceptions:

Myth: Sex Ed causes teen pregnancies.

Fact: Comprehensive sex education actually lowers rates of teen pregnancies! Young people need accurate information about sexual health, contraception, consent, and healthy relationships to make informed decisions.

Myth: Only straight women want to experience pregnancy.

Fact: People of all sexual orientations can want to experience pregnancy, without it invalidating their identities. This includes women, nonbinary people, and trans men.

Myth: Trans men can’t get pregnant.

Fact: If they have a uterus and ovaries, they can get pregnant - even if they are taking testosterone.

Myth: IVF is the only way to get pregnant if you’re queer.

Fact: Artificial insemination actually includes multiple options, like at-home insemination, IUI (intrauterine insemination), and IVF (in vitro fertilization). (Plus: Queer covers a wide range of circumstances - some queer couples can get pregnant by having sex.)

Myth: IVF is a guaranteed success.

Fact: It’s not. Many people need multiple cycles and sometimes it doesn’t work at all. Age and existing health conditions can affect success rates.

Myth: Artificial insemination is only an option if you’re married.

Fact: It depends on the laws in your country, but there are clinics in many places that provide services to unmarried or single people.

Myth: If you get pregnant after 35, your baby will be disabled.

Fact: Most people over 35 have healthy pregnancies and healthy babies with proper prenatal care.

Myth: If you get pregnant for the first time after 40, you’re putting your life at risk.

Fact: Some risks do increase with age, but again: with proper prenatal care, many people have healthy pregnancies and babies even after 40. A late first-time pregnancy is definitely not some automatic death sentence.

Myth: You can carry an ectopic pregnancy to term.

Fact: An ectopic pregnancy means implantation outside the uterus. It cannot result in a viable fetus and will become life-threatening to the pregnant person if left untreated.

Myth: Miscarriage is rare.

Fact: Sadly, it’s not. Around 20% of all known pregnancies end in miscarriage, most of them early on. The actual number may be even higher, since many miscarriages happen before someone even realizes they are pregnant.

Myth: You should take a pregnancy test right after having sex.

Fact: That would be a waste of money. It takes about two weeks after ovulation for a pregnancy test to detect enough hCG hormone to show a positive result. It’s best to take a test on the first day of a missed period. (Testing too early can lead to false negatives.)

Myth: Alcohol during pregnancy isn’t that big of a deal.

Fact: It’s a huge deal. Any amount or kind of alcohol can cause serious health issues for the baby. Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD) are entirely preventable.

Myth: The severity of any unpleasant symptoms you may experience depends on how much you want the baby.

Fact: Pregnancy symptoms are caused by hormonal and physical changes. They have nothing to do with how much you want the baby or how good of a parent you’ll be.

Myth: Pregnancy “steals a woman’s beauty.”

Fact: That’s a horrible and misogynistic thing to say. Body changes during pregnancy are natural and women do not exist to be beautiful and beauty is not objective... There’s so much to unpack here, let’s just throw out the whole suitcase.

Myth: The first symptom of pregnancy is always morning sickness.

Fact: It can be - but it could also be sore breasts, mood changes, fatigue, increased urination, or no symptoms at all until you realize you missed your period.

Myth: All pregnant people experience the same symptoms.

Fact: Every pregnancy is different. Symptoms can vary widely in type and severity.

Myth: Your second pregnancy will be the same as your first.

Fact: Every pregnancy is different - even multiple pregnancies for the same person can vary wildly!

Myth: The “due date” is the day you’ll give birth.

Fact: It’s just an estimate, not a guarantee. Most people give birth sometime within the two weeks before or after the due date.

Myth: When your water breaks, it’s a big dramatic splash.

Fact: For most people it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem. In real life, it’s often a slow trickle you notice at home rather than a dramatic gush in public.

Myth: Births are always a bloodbath.

Fact: Again, reality is usually much less dramatic than the movies show. Excessive bleeding would be a complication, not the norm.

Myth: C-sections are “the easy way out.”

Fact: C-sections can be life-saving, but they are also major surgeries with real risks and long recovery times. They are not the “lazy,” “cowardly,” or “easy” alternative to vaginal birth.

Myth: Your vagina always severely tears during childbirth.

Fact: Tearing is common (though not inevitable) - but most tears are minor and heal quickly. Only about 2% of people experience the most severe type of tearing.

Myth: If you never get pregnant, you’ll always feel an empty void inside you.

Fact: Fulfillment and happiness come in many forms. Many people without biological children (or without children at all) live rich, meaningful, joyful lives.

Myth: If you never get pregnant, you’ll get cancer.

Fact: That’s oversimplified. Never getting pregnant may raise the risk for certain cancers, but genetics, environment, and lifestyle also play major roles. Having one potential risk factor does not automatically cause cancer.

Myth: Humans were made to have as many babies as possible. Back-to-back pregnancy would be natural.

Fact: Frequent, back-to-back pregnancies can actually increase health risks for both the parent and the baby. Spacing pregnancies is not unnatural - it’s healthier.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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loveharlow · 2 days ago

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↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ ANGST ALPHABET

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader [ more rafe content ]

SYNOPSIS & WC ‧₊˚[idk] Angst Alphabet for Rafe. I removed some letters because they were repetitive questions😭

WARNING(S) & A/N ‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of slut shaming, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse

A— Anger (what makes them angry? How do they deal with the anger?)

It’s Rafe…anything makes him angry. Pogues make him angry. His family makes him angry. His drug dealer makes him angry. He makes himself angry. And he doesn’t really have a way of dealing with it, not a healthy way at least. His solution is coke and that honestly never helps, it just amps his anger up to 100.

B— Bad Habits (what bad habits do they have?)

Too many to list. Between his mild coke addiction and extreme anger issues, Rafe is just a walking time bomb.

C— Can’t (what can’t they do? Is it a moral thing or some skill they just never learned?)

It’s like he can’t apologize with blaming you, even in the slightest. He’ll take responsibility for the main portion of whatever the issue was, saying he’s sorry and he shouldn’t have done but then he’ll turn it around on you at the very end, always with “But you have to admit that you…”, “I’m not the only one of us at fault here…”, “Let’s not act like you didn’t…”

“I’m actually so fucking sick of you.”

“I said I was sorry. He was looking at you the entire night!”

“So, you punch the waiter? While we’re out at dinner with your father and Rose who, by the way, already think that I’m using you for money?? You don’t even see the way your father looks at me-

“You're...being dramatic-”

“-like I’m the bottom of his shoe and you? you just made that worse-”

“Look, I didn’t mean to, okay? I-I’ll talk to my dad, I’ll even go back and apologize to the waiter. Will that make you happy?”

“...Yes, actually, it would. So, you go do that.”

“...But I’m not gonna pretend you weren’t looking at him, too.”

“*scoff*...You’re such an ass, honestly. You turn everything around on me-”

“I’m just saying!-”

“Well, just don’t!”

D— Death (How do they die? With family or alone? How does their partner find out?)

The only way I see Rafe dying is if all the trouble he got into finally caught up to him. I don’t know what, exactly, but I say either the pogues either snap and accidentally kill him or he kills himself, by overdose or some dumb shit he does.

E— Embarrassed (what embarrasses them?)

Ward. 100%. The way Ward treats his son is the only thing that truly embarrasses Rafe. Especially because Rafe tries to act like as soon as Ward hits the ground, everything is going to him — the inheritance, the company, the mansion. So, whenever you would stay over and wake up after him to a cold bed just to hear Ward digging into him downstairs, deep voice echoing off the walls of the mansion, Rafe knew you could hear. He just knew that Ward’s booming voice had probably woken you up and you could hear his father yelling at him about money and drugs and his sister.

"You fucked up everything, Rafe! Again!"

"I know, dad, okay? I was just trying to help-"

"This is your way of helping?!"

"Dad, please, my girlfriend, she's upstairs. Can we please not-"

"You think I care about some run of the mill south side chick in your bed? She will take everything you have and run. And you're so doped up half the time that you don't even see it."

F— Fake (what do they fake? An emotion? A lack of emotions?)

He fakes every. Single. Apology. Ever. He yelled at you for something you didn’t do? He’s on his knees spewing apologies while tears run down your face even though he’s going to do it tomorrow. He “accidentally” hit you because he got jealous? He’s burying your head in his chest while you stare off at nothing knowing it’s probably going to happen again. Called you a slut for wearing something you thought was cute? He didn’t mean it. But he’s never really sorry. And you both know it.

G— Guilty (what do they feel guilty about? why?)

He rarely ever feels guilt, but during the brief moments where he’s sober — no alcohol or drugs, he can’t help but feel guilty that he can’t let you go. Those moments in the morning, where he hasn’t touched a single substance yet and his mind is clear of any negative thought, he’ll just stare at your sleeping figure and think how much better off you’d be without him but he knows he’d never let that happen. Even as he looks at the bruises on you, sexual and violent, he knows he should free you of him but he never will.

H— Heartbreak (how did they deal with heartbreak? which time effected them the most?)

Heartbreak turns to anger for Rafe. You? Breaking up with him? Had you lost your mind? Were you drunk? Had you gotten in his coke stash? Because surely you weren’t trying to leave him.

"I don't want to do this anymore. I am miserable, Rafe. Can't you see that?"

"That's because you keep trying to fight it, fight us. So what if your friends hate me? Screw them."

"It's not my friends, it's you. You're not nice to me, you try to control me, you use me as your punching bag. Verbally and physically-"

"You know I never mean it. I just... lose it sometimes, you know that."

"And that's supposed to make it okay?"

"No, I just-...you can't leave me."

"Well, tough shit because that's what's happening right now."

"No, I'm telling you. You try and walk out that door and I will hurt you. Please, don't make me hurt you."

I— Insecure (what are their insecurities?)

Sometimes, he just thinks that he'll never be good enough in the eyes of anyone. He's spent his whole life just trying to be good enough in the eyes of his father, someone who should feel obligated to uplift and be proud of him. So, when he's constantly berated and embarrassed by the man who's supposed to treat him with gentleness and care, it really messes with his head and his overall perception of how people view him.

J— Jealous (what makes them feel jealous of others?)

Jealous? No, Rafe Cameron doesn't get jealous. He gets possessive. He knows that no one can really take you from him as long as he's still alive and breathing. He doesn't like when people get too close or touchy with you. He actually hates it with everything in him.

K— Kill (what have they killed? any people? dreams? an animal?)

Rafe has only killed one person — Peterkin. And you didn’t even know when you’d gotten with him, only finding out when it came up during a fight with the Pogues. You freaked and he spun some story about he did it for Sarah which you weren’t even sure you believed after putting some pieces of the story together for yourself.

"They're saying you killed somebody, Rafe! They're saying you killed the Sheriff! Why would they lie about that-"

"They're fucking pogues! They lie about everything. I didn't fucking kill anyone-"

"...You're lying. Oh my god, you're lying-"

"I-...I did it for Sarah, okay?"

"I'm gonna be sick..."

L— Lost (what have they lost?)

His damn mind. Rafe is unhinged. On top of that, he’s definitely lost all self-respect and human-decency. The only real "loss" he's suffered was the absence of his mother.

M— Memory (what’s their best and worst memories?)

His best memories are when he was younger and more innocent. Rafe was still a kid that was considered "reckless" and sometimes even "mean" but he still held that child-like innocence where nothing was that serious. His red flags were just brushed off onto his parents as them not disciplining him properly. Just a "spoiled little rich kid".

His worst memories are obviously in his more recent years of life. Any moment with his father, any interactions between him and Sarah, etc.

N— Nightmare (do they have them? what are they about? Reactions?)

Surprisingly, he has nightmares about some of the things he's done. He has no remorse for them in his conscious state, at all, really. But something about his dreams seem to want to haunt him with the memories of Peterkin's Murder, Shooting & Drowning Sarah, etc.

O— Obsolete (do they feel like they’ve been replace or could/should be? Do they feel like they aren’t useful?)

Ward makes him feel replaceable at every given moment, which eventually translates to him thinking whoever you give attention to has the potential to replace him.

P— Past (how has their past change them, has it made them better or worse?)

Definitely worse.

Q— Question (do they question themselves a lot? do other question them? Do they question others?)

He questions himself when he gets overwhelmed or has one of those fleeting moments of clarity where he realizes that he's done a lot of fucked up shit.

T— Tears (what makes them cry?)

He makes himself cry for pity and it took you so long to truly realize it. To realize that he would shed crocodile tears behind empty apologies just to keep you right where he wanted you.

V— Vicious (what makes them vicious, do they try to hide it or overcome it?)

When you argue. At the start of your relationship, before he started snapping on you for real, you'd argue back and he hated it. He hated that it felt like you were against him just like everyone else. And when the arguments got too frequent, when all of his actions started getting revealed to you, his true colors started show.

X— X-Ray (what’s going on inside? Both health wise and mentally, are they okay? Do they need some help?)

This is self-explanatory. No, he isn't. Yes, he does.

Rafe Cameron Taglist in replies!

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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genericnbbuddy · 2 days ago

Text

This reply is QUITE long... But because the knowledge here is actually worth it.

As p1r4cy websites were mentioned here, I'll share some websites to add to the list. There is also tools and advice on here and at the end

Yandex: Russian hosted search engine. After what happened with Ukraine [I won't talk about it as it's off-topic] and the following retirement of websites like Netflix and Spotify from that country, Put1n basically made piracy legal in Russia. That means it'll index p1r4t3d content, unlike Google or Yahoo! that block those stuff.

Lib-gen: It kinda amaze me it wasn't mentioned here. I usually search up for academic books on here, but I know there's some other goodies in there. If the link doesn't work, that's because the feds seized it, but a quick "Google" (wink, wink) search can help there (they're constantly renewing the domains, so it's not so easily overturn).

Anna's Archive: It scrapes the books from other sources, so you'll hardly DON'T find what you want. However, you either pay a donation to get the faster downloads (which, even when I'm a p1r4cy activist, I recommend to spend that money on buying from small publishers [they're struggling, so it helps them]) or wait a long time. hey have torrents, but I couldn't figure out how it works.

Privacy Guides: Whenever you enter p1r4cy websites, do at least the basic recommendations on here. You won't regret it if you do, but you'll surely regret it if you don't.

FreeMediaHeckYeah: You'll get a lot of free resources on here, both legal and not. 100% recommended (it's an organized list of links to other sites, some previously listed).

MediaSavvy: Similar to the previous one, but more focused on p1r4cy.

Awesome P1r4cy: Idem. I highly recommend reading the linked Wikipedia article.

To complete, I'll link some Reddit and Pinterest links, plus a lil bonus for TTRPG players

/r/piracy Megathread (where I got most of the links), /r/piracy Guides (iirc, matrix and similar niche messaging protocols are neat imho tbh), /r/piracy FAQ, Two links for TTRPG content: 1, 2

(everything here is legal, 'cause Pinterest)

Non AI-based: 1, 2, 3 (only last one is not already mentioned, only here for completeness), 4, 5 (this is only YouTube channels, ignore the AI ad), 6, 7 (some AI tools mentioned), 8

AI based (FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE DON'T USE IT TO MAKE "ART"): 1, 2

(if someone can and do download those image, extract the text, get the links to the pages and publish it, please mention me and I'll reblog it giving them credits)

FINAL SURPRISE :D

Yeah, we all hate 4chan, and we all know the code was glued with saliva, making it easy to hack. But we can't deny this is a goodie

Da Docs

Before I go, I must say: There is NO excuse for being ignorant now. There is NO excuse for wasting your time neither. The Internet is full of good stuff, and I've just handed it to you on a golden plate. Just enter the links, and enjoy the vast ocean of knowledge, culture and useful tools and information. GL :D

refseek.com

www.worldcat.org/

link.springer.com

http://bioline.org.br/

repec.org

science.gov

pdfdrive.com

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brehaaorgana · 2 days ago

Note

i saw your post about the scammers trying to use current events to scam on tumblr, do you think you’d be able to break down what makes one a scam vs. a real request? i think thats smth not a lot of people know how to look for (esp when scams like the current one bank on you reacting with emotion or try to press some kind of fear of urgency onto you)

People are going to really hate this answer, but: the absolute safest way to avoid charity scams is to never give money to individual people you do not personally know and have not explicitly personally verified need those funds. The safest way to donate funds to a legitimate cause is to donate to verifiable charities who you have researched.

This is the old standard advice — and it was given loonnnggg before the current iteration of the conflict in Gaza. You cannot accidentally fall for a scam if you don't donate money to people you simply don't know.

"But what if they're real?"

They could be! Are you willing to lose that money to a scammer, and possibly put more of your finances and internet security at risk — when you could instead donate to a registered non-profit/NGO that you have researched their track record, and who can make the money go a LOT farther?

"sure, I'm willing to risk that money! This is important!"

Alright, so:

Do you trust the beneficiary middle man? PayPal, GoFundMe, etc do not allow for withdrawals in many countries. So if these servicers don't actually allow people to withdraw in their home country, do you trust a third party to make sure the money gets to these people? Are they trustworthy?

Even if they are trustworthy, do you know what currency is being sent or used? Is there a possibility of currency exchange rates and fees impacting how far your donation actually goes? Donating to an organized NGO/charity often helps relieve this issue! For Palestine specifically, keep in mind that they don't have their own unique national currency. So is this going to stay as USD? Israeli Shekels? Egyptian Pounds? Something else? (This article mentions how one fundraiser recipient only received less than 70% of the total raised due to GFM fees, and currency exchange fee inflation)

What, exactly, is the money actually going to be able to buy? Is it a bribe for another government extorting refugees? Is that bribe guaranteed to actually work? Or might they still be turned away AND lose all that money? Is it risking perpetuating crisis-inflation on the ground? What happens if there is nothing to buy?

The funds may have to be wired or money transferred eventually to the recipient. Does the infrastructure support these large wire transfers? What happens if a bank - at any point - freezes the wire, and seizes the funds for suspicious or possible criminal activity? They can do that, by the way, and in the US the bank doesn't have to give that money back. They could just cancel the wire, but retrying the same wire with slightly different info after the bank cancels for suspicious activity is not acceptable on the US side of things. For other conflicts, by the way, there are absolutely sanctions that would prevent wire transfers from the US from happening. And then, can cash even be withdrawn? Are local banks secure?

If it's not being wired to the recipient, how is the money getting to the recipient? If it's being used to pay for refugee extortion (which was absolutely what the Egyptian government was doing - extorting refugees) that's one thing. But if it's going to the recipient directly, how does it get there? Is someone delivering it personally? Crossing a border? Mail? Is there a reliable means to actually physically move currency to this location? How? Where? Does the fundraiser explain this at all?

What transparency and accountability are they offering at the end of a fundraiser?

These are the most basic things you have to know — how will this money actually make it to the right place and be useful? What will it be used for? If there's a blockade, then what? What happens to the money in the meantime? What if it's seized by opposing groups/governments/forces? What is the actual likelihood your money makes it to the right place without a reliable and known NGO/Non-profit with on the ground infrastructure helping? Do they have experience navigating the bureaucracy involved? What happens if it's stuck in limbo?

If you have thought through ALL of these things and still donate, that is an EDUCATED decision you are making!

There is a very good reason to prefer donating to existing, reputable charity organizations for your own financial safety and to ensure your money does what you want it to do!

These links detail how to avoid fraudulent charity orgs, how to research charities, and what charity/donation scam red flags to look out for:

Federal Trade Commission: How to Avoid a Scam

FTC: How to recognize and avoid phishing scams

FTC: Before Giving to a Charity

IRS: Beware of Fake Charities, Check Before Donating

Charity Navigator: Avoiding Charity Scams

FBI: Charity & Disaster Fraud

03.19.2024 FBI & IRS urge warning on illegal charities, donation scams.

PayPal Newsroom: Spot and Avoid Charity Scams

TN attorney general: Charity Scams (this is just one random state example)

FCC: Scam Charities will take your money and run

American Bankers Association: Charity Scams. NOTE this one literally says: "don't let anyone — Pressure you, call you selfish, or make you feel guilty about deciding whether to donate. "

GoFundMe: Recognizing online fraud schemes

Forbes: Israel-Gaza War Has Triggered More Charity Scams: Here’s 4 Ways To Avoid Getting Swindled

FTC: Safely donating in response to the Israel-Gaza crisis

Btw back on Nov 1st, 2023, Yahoo News UK reported: Scam warning: Gaza crisis appeals used to trick victims

Experts have uncovered $1.6m of fraudulent payments linked to the Israel-Gaza conflict as part of a rise in cryptocurrency scams.

Things that are red flags for scams/charity fraud per literally every US federal and financial professional resource:

Language used to create stress, fear, or shame if you do not donate

Language used to create urgency, or a pressing time limit — making you panic and less likely to calmly research

Requests for wire transfers, cryptocurrency, gift cards

Unsolicited requests for money, especially via text, messaging platforms/apps, email, or social media

Requests for money that have generic greetings or vague, non-identifying language. A lack of personalization in the address

Threats, name calling/verbal attacks, or repeated messages if not responded to quickly or at all

Lack of detailed information about how the money will be obtained and received, and how it will be used (for what purpose)

Requesting your personal information for any reason

Sending unprompted web links

#me: educate yourself and look for the answers to complex issues regarding fundraising and then weigh your decision #some people: SO NEVER DONATE TO ANYONE????#me: ....anyways....

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larluce · 9 hours ago

Text

Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU

(co-writing with @roxineedstosleep)

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Chapter 3: Valiant (Part 1)

In Gaius's chambers. Merlin, who has barely slept, drags himself out of bed with dark circles under his eyes, hastily putting on his clothes. His day is just beginning, but he's already exhausted.

Gaius: (Almost at the same pace as Merlin, dressing more slowly and then putting more wood on the fire) Did you get any sleep last night?

Merlin: (Yawning) No. (points to the baby in the crib). Someone thought it was a good idea to have colic and roll a bottle across the table.

Baby: (sleeping peacefully) 😴

Merlin walks over to the table to see his list of things to do for the day. His to-do list is quite long, and the castle bells haven't even rung to welcome the day yet.

Gaius: (Looking up from his book) You can barely stand, my boy.

Merlin: (Yawning, as he prepares the bottle of milk) Uh-huh. But the prince can't seem to dress himself, and my roommate is sick. Do you think you could give her-

Gaius: (Sighs and takes the bottle) I'll do my best to look after her today; colic is common at this age. Go before Arthur gets impatient.

Time skip. At the Training Grounds. Arthur is already waiting with his arms crossed when Merlin arrives with his training gear, having already dressed him.

Arthur: (mockingly) Have you always been this slow?

Merlin: (mimicking his tone) Have you always been this helpless?

Arthur: (seriously) You can't talk to me like that.

Merlin: I'm sorry. (exaggeratedly polite tone) Have you always been helpless, my lord? (gives a small bow)

Arthur: (A smile almost forms on his face at the joke, but it soon returns to his angry expression and he throws a training pad at Merlin's head) Let's begin.

And Arthur uses him as a training dummy all morning.

Despite being overworked, Merlin gets some help from other servants who know how difficult Arthur is to deal with.

Time skip. In the laundry room.

George: (while helping Merlin wash Arthur's clothes) He wants you to quit.

Merlin: (confused) Uh?

George: The prince. He's hoping you'll either get fed up and quit, or make a mistake bad enough to get you sacked. He does the same with all his personal manservants. Although you're the first he's ever been so hard on.

Merlin: (laughs) I don't think he's forgiven me for humiliating him in front of his men. (mockingly) Or should I say his daddy's men?

George: (curious) So why aren't you doing it?

Merlin: What?

George: Quit.

Merlin: (thinking) I'm not going to give him the satisfaction. And I need to buy things for my baby. (shrugging) I just came to visit Gaius. I never planned to stay. But it doesn't hurt to have some money.

Merlin doesn't mention the baby to any of the servants. He never does. But something about the sympathetic look George gives him in response makes him suspect they might already know. And he confirms it when he asks Gwen for help with Arthur's armor.

Time skip. At Gwen's house.

Merlin: (dressed in Arthur's armor)

Gwen: (after showing Merlin how to put on the armor) I guess you know what to do with the helmet?

Merlin: (tired, but smiles at him) Yeah, yeah, that was the only bit I'd figured out.

Gwen: (laughs)

Merlin: (puts on the helmet) How come you're so much better at this than me?

Gwen: I'm the blacksmith's daughter. I know pretty much everything there is to know about armour, which is actually kind of sad.

Merlin: (impressed) No, it's brilliant! I would love for my girl— (cuts himself off, eyes widening in panic) I mean, if I had a girl, I would love for her to be interested in my interests. Yeah… (takes off his helmet and avoids Gwen's gaze) I'd better get changed now.

Gwen: (helps Merlin out of the armor and says tentatively) And how is Gaius's little patient?

Merlin: (feigning ignorance) Uh?

Gwen: The one I saw yesterday when we met. The baby.

Merlin: Oh, she is. Uhmm… (decides to repeat the lie Gaius told him to say) She's actually the daughter of a patient. Gaius and I are temporarily looking after her while her mother recovers.

Gwen: (not sounding very convinced) I see… (finishes removing Merlin's armor)

Merlin: (realizes) Wait, have you told anyone about her?

Gwen: …

Merlin: Gwen! 😠

Gwen: In my defense, I didn't know you were going to become the prince's manservant.

Merlin: (pacing) That's why everyone's been looking at me strangely. I'm sure you put them in the idea that she's my daughter! 😡

Gwen: (tries to calm him down) Merlin-

Merlin: (screams) She isn't! I wish she was, but she isn't. And even if she was, what do you all care? Huh? Why can't you just mind your own damn business?! 😤

Gwen: …

Gwen: Just out of curiosity, how much sleep did you get today?

Merlin: (sighs) 2 hours. Maybe. (feeling bad) Sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you.

Gwen: It's okay. (places the disassembled armor in Merlin's arms) We servants may be gossips, but we never give each other away. We know how to keep a secret when it matters, and we protect each other. I just want you to know that.

Merlin: (smiles, grateful) I'll keep that in mind. (leaves)

Time skip. At the training grounds.

Merlin: (struggles to get the vambrace on Arthur's lower arm)

Arthur: (grumpily) You know the tournament starts today?

Merlin: Yes, sire. (Fixes the buckle on the gorget and tries to make conversation) Are you nervous?

Arthur: I don't get nervous.

Merlin: Really? I thought everyone got nervous-

Arthur: (shouting) Will you shut up?!

Merlin: (gets angry, but says nothing, grabs Arthur's cloak, ties it up, and silently hands him his helmet)

Arthur: Aren't you forgetting something?

Merlin: …

Arthur: Merlin! 😡

Merlin: (innocently) You told me to shut up, I'm just obeying your order, sire.

Arthur: My sword! 😤

Merlin: Right away. (goes to the swords and grabs one, but then puts it back and grabs another, and so on)

Arthur: (impatiently) What are you doing?!

Merlin: Choosing your sword, my lord.

Arthur: Just give me that one.

Merlin: (proceeds to draw his sword veeery slowly)

Arthur: (snatches the sword from Merlin and points it at him, threateningly) Don't think I don't know what you're doing.

Merlin: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Arthur: (enraged) I swear-

Merlin: You'd better hurry or you'll be late for your tournament, my lord.

Arthur: (fuming, but holds it together and walks quickly away)

Merlin: (smirks)

Time skip. At the tournament.

Both Arthur and Valiant win their respective matches. Not that Merlin could know, he was too busy catching up on sleep. He managed to get at least an hour of sleep before His Royal Highness nudged Merlin awake with his foot to make Merlin remove his armor.

Valiant: (Exits the arena, stops near Arthur, and bows) May I offer my congratulations on your victories today?

Arthur: (Frowns suspiciously, but nods) Likewise.

Valiant: I hope to see you at the reception this evening. (Leaves with his servant)

Merlin: (Still half asleep, half awake) Creep. It sounded like he was asking you out.

Arthur: (Shocked) Merlin!

Merlin: (Blinks) Oh, sorry. Did I say that out loud?

Arthur: (Sighs) By tomorrow you need to repair my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, sharpen my sword, and polish my chainmail.

Merlin: (Incredulous) Are you kidding? There's no way I can-

Arthur: First thing in the morning. (Leaves)

Merlin is left alone, noting how all the extra tasks within his duties for the next day seem to grow to exaggerated levels.

Time skip, in Gaius's Tower.

Merlin enters his room, his arms and legs feeling cramped from everything he's done since Arthur let him leave. Too tired, he casts a simple magic-blocking spell. His eyes glow gold, and as that happens, the baby teddy bear stops floating through the air and lands on the floor with some herbs and flowers.

Gaius: (enters) Good to see you all in one piece (with a caring tone) Tiring day?

Merlin: (with a tic in his eye) Tiring would be an understatement 🙃.

Gaius: I'd say it's always like this, but it's all because of the upcoming celebration.

Merlin: (bitterly) So the prince is such an idiot about the upcoming celebrations? (conjures) Daeft thaet (his eyes flash and the mess the baby's magic caused sorts itself out)

Gaius: (smacks him)

Merlin: Ow!

Gaius: What did I tell you about using magic like that? 😠

Merlin: If I could feel my arms, I would! 😠 I only have enough strength for this. (picks up his baby) How's the sweetest girl in the world? 😊 I hope you were good to Uncle Gaius!

Baby: 🥺 Boooo

Merlin: Oh! 😥 Is it because your teddy bear doesn't dance anymore? I'm so sorry, baby, but you can't do that kind of magic in here. (sniffs the diaper) Uh, looks like you're due for a change. (his eyes glow and a cloth diaper flies to him)

Gaius: If you want her not to use her magic lightly, you should set an example 😒. Especially because tomorrow-

Merlin: (ignores Gaiud while changing the baby's diaper) That's it, baby! 🤗 (picks her up again) Who pooped more solid poop today? You did, you did.

Baby: (happy babbling) 😄

Gaius: (sighs) Merlin, tomorrow-

Merlin: (still cuddling the baby) I know, tomorrow you'll be a good girl too, right, baby? Of course you will-

Gaius: (raises his voice) Merlin, tomorrow I won't be able to have the baby here!

Merlin: (turns to Gaius like a possessed doll) What? 🙂

Gaius: What I'm telling you, tomorrow there will be many injured. And all of them not only come to the medical tents after competing, but they also have to stay here if necessary.

Merlin: But that's terrible! 😣 Where will I and the baby rest? There's barely any room here! …. How am I going to hide the baby?! 😰

Baby: ☹️

Gaius: (seeing the baby getting nervous) Merlin-

Merlin: The servants already know about her, now the other knights will too-

Baby: 🥺

Gaius: Merlin-

Merlin: And they'll throw me out! And we won't be able to stay here-

Baby: 😢

Gaius: MERLIN!

Merlin: (shuts up)

Baby: (burst out crying and a couple of vials break) 😭

Gaius: Don't worry, I already have a plan. We'll take turns looking after the baby, and if anyone asks, we'll say she's the daughter of one of my patients from the citadel, like always. No one will suspect.

Merlin: 🫠 You could've started with that.

Gaius: And you could need some sleep.

Time skip. The next day at the armory.

Merlin: (enters with the baby in a baby sling, muttering) Taking care of a baby with uncontrolled magic while I have to attend to an arrogant prince of a sorcerer-hunting kingdom in a place full of sharp and pointed weapons. Nothing can go wrong with that idea, right? (yawns) I'm so sleepy.

Baby: (looks around curiously)

A hiss is heard.

Merlin: (turns to the sound) Hello? Is anyone there? (Shrugs and bends down to pick up Arthur's armor)

Baby: (close to Valiant's shield, makes graby hands to the drawing of snakes, delighted with the animals) 😃

In reaction to the baby's involuntary magic, the snakes emerge from the shield, hissing loudly.

Merlin: (frightened, screams and instinctively backs away, falling on his back and protecting the baby with his body) Ahhh! What the fuck! 😨 (When he looks back at the shield, the snakes are gone)

Valiant: (who entered a moment ago, draws his sword to threaten Merlin, believing himself exposed)

Merlin: (blinks, confused, and rubs his eyes) I really need to sleep. I'm starting to see things. (gets up)

Valiant: (lets out a sigh of relief and puts his sword away)

Baby: (scared, not by the snakes or the fall, but by Valiant's presence, bursts into tears) 🥺😭.

Merlin: (concerned, takes her out of the sling and rocks her) Oh, sorry, baby. Did I scare you? I'm sorry.

Valiant: You shouldn't be with a baby in here.

Merlin: (puts the baby back in the sling and gathers Arthur's armor, too tired and worried about the still-crying baby to worry about Valiant) Tell that to that idiot I have for master. (Yawns and leaves)

Valiant: …

Time skip. Merlin, still trying to calm the baby's crying, bumps into George in a corridor.

Merlin: (exalted, very quickly) She's the daughter of one of Gaius's patients!

George: (laughs softly) I didn't ask. But yes, I know, you've told everyone. Where are you going?

Merlin: I have to get Arthur ready for-

George: What?! 😨 You're going to attend to him with the baby?! Do you want him to kill you?

Merlin: (whines, stressed) I have no choice. Gaius is busy, and I have no one else to take care of her.

Baby: (cries louder) 😭 (the baby's magic flutters ornaments around)

Merlin: (panicked) No, no, no! Baby, please stop crying, please. (Almost on the verge of tears too)

George: (Pitying him) Let me take care of her. (Takes the baby)

Merlin: (Panics even more, afraid that George will notice the baby's magic, about to throw away Arthur's armor to take her back) No, wait!

George: (Recites a lullaby while rocking the baby; which means he doesn't sing, just says the lyrics in a monotone) Lullay, my liking, my dear son, my sweeting. Lullay, my dear heart, my own dear darling. Lullay, lullay, lullay. 😐

Baby: (Falls asleep as soon as George settles her in his arms) 😴. (And the decorations stop waving)

Merlin: …

Merlin: How did you do that?! 😱

George: (shrugs) I don't know, but I have five little brothers, and my mom always gave them to me when they cried a lot as babies, and when I talked to them, they fell asleep. I guess my voice calmed them.

Merlin: (thinking) I think it actually bored them… (says, very relieved) Thanks a lot, George! Keep her asleep and only wake her up to give her milk, okay? Gaius can tell you where he keeps the milk and when to give it to her. (starts to walk away briskly)

George: (calls out) After the fight, there's a shooting match. The prince almost never attends those, so you can rest.

Merlin: Thanks! (finishes leaving)

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters)

Arthur: You're late. 😒

Merlin: (tired voice) I know. (abruptly places the armor on the table)

Arthur: (scolding) Be careful with that!

Merlin: It's steel, it won't break. (lifts the chain mail) Raise your arms.

Arthur: You can't talk to me- 😠

Merlin: Your Royal Highness, please do me the honor of raising your arms. 🙄

Arthur: Better. (Raises his arms)

Merlin: (puts Arthur on his armor) Your helmet. (places the helmet on Arthur's arm)

Arthur: (looks at Merlin's work) At least you didn't forget anything this time. Let's go. (leaves)

Merlin: (follows, shuffling)

Time skip. After the match.

Merlin: (asleep in some hidden corner) 😴

Arthur: (finds him) There you are! Lazing around as usual 😡 (kicks him)

Merlin: (more asleep than awake, mutters) Yes, yes, I'll go give the baby some milk.

Arthur: What are you talking about? Get up! (kicks him again)

Merlin: (opens his eyes) Uhm… What happened?

Arthur: Asleep again? I need you to get me my bow and arrow, now!

Merlin: (confused, still stretching) What for?

Arthur: What do you mean, what for? To participate in the shooting competition!

Merlin: B-but… I thought you never-

Arthur: That's the rub. A good servant doesn't think, he obeys. What are you waiting for? Go! (kicks him again)

Merlin: Ow! Alright, alright I'm coming. (gets up reluctantly, thinking) He had to have urge to brag about his aim today of all days. 😓

And it turned out that the boastful prince not only wanted to participate in the shooting competition, but in all the day's activities. And Arthur, to not lose sight of his servant again, doesn't let Merlin leave his side. Merlin's eyelids are heavy, and his thighs are cramping from standing for too long. He's too tired.

Time skip. At the evening reception. All the competing knights (uninjured) are chatting happily.

Merlin: (with dark circles under his red eyes) Anything else you'd like, sire?

Arthur: (now out of his armor, cool as a cucumber) No, I don't think so. I'm already a bit tired. I think I'll have some rest.

Merlin: (his eye ticing) Really? You? Tired, sire?

Arthur: Yes, you may leave.

Merlin: (forces a polite smile) Thank you, my lord. (turns away)

Arthur: Oh, Merlin. I want-

Merlin: (turns to him and explodes, yelling) WHAT?! WHAT ELSE DOES YOUR GREATEST HIGHNESS WANT ME TO DO?! 😡 To undress you and tuck you in for bed?! To feed you in the mouth? To wipe your ass?! 😤

Knights around: (gasp) 😨😨😨😨😨😨

Arthur: (surprised Pikachu face) Uh… 😦

Merlin: For all the gods! Are you really so useless that you can't do anything by yourself? Can't you take care of yourself at all? Don't you have hands? I swear I've seen one-year-old babies and crippled men more self-sufficient than you! Merlin clean this, Merlin fetch that, Merlin hop on one foot and then do a somersault in the air! Leave me alone! I'm exhausted! I want to sleep! 😡(leaves, stomping)

Knights around: …

Arthur: …

Morgana: (holding back a laugh) I like him.

Time skip. In Gaius's Tower.

Merlin: (enters)

Gaius: (carrying the baby) Merlin! How could you leave the baby with- 😠

Merlin: (sharply) Not now. (smiles softly at the baby and kisses her forehead) Good night, baby. (goes to his room)

Gaius: Merlin! 😡

And Merlin falls dead onto his bed, not thinking about the consequences of his outburst… and which he would probably face the next day.

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

...

UHHH! Merlin really messed up, didn't he? What do you think will happen to him?

Tagging @chaosofbelievers , @blackgigglypuff , @stressed-but-chill , @nocheaseforyougoodsir , @thedragonlies , @evedaser , @lolazoel , @sammythetoaster , @caraspud , @g00pygunkyguy , @bertoliosis35-blog , @purpuraffe , @lordemryspendragon , @herstarlight , @justaz , @myalchemicalgnomace , @haunted-glassesgurl , @exmintha , @dumbdemjin , @a-line-drawn , @itsjustmeandmyanxiety , @beebsnas , @rem-the-moth , @tmarauder101 , @whitemaskcd , @robynnemrys , @genyxie , @trubel43 , @andrealux21

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merthur fic #Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU

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reccyls · 2 days ago

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Victor's Main Route: Mad Love Epilogue

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist

NSFW warning (not super explicit but still)

Liam: Oh right, we were talking yesterday and we were wondering. Victor, what do you like about Kate?

One morning, I was sitting in the dining hall having breakfast with some other members of Crown, when I suddenly choked on my tea and began coughing my lungs out. Liam exchanged a look with Ellis, who was sitting next to him, and the two of them turned to face Victor and I. Victor patted my back softly as he explained.

Victor: I like that she’s so adorable. Victor: She’s earnest and diligent. But also has a surprisingly stubborn side and sometimes she doesn’t know when to give up.

Kate: …Is that supposed to be a good thing?

Victor: Of course it is! And I love how you laugh, and the way your eyes light up when you see something sweet. Victor: Oh, and I love when you get angry at me for wasting my money when I buy things for you, but you can’t hide how happy you are when I give you a present, too!

(I want the floor to swallow me whole.)

Victor: But my favorite thing about you is how you turned something that I had given up on, into something I couldn’t.

Ellis: What does that mean?

Ellis tilted his head, puzzled. Victor stopped patting my back and smiled.

Victor: If you’re asking which of us fell in love first, it’s me. Victor: Kate stumbled into this unknowingly.

He secretly winked at me.

Victor: Just like falling into pitch black darkness.

-----

Kate: You’re cheating.

While helping Victor out in his office like usual, I thought back to the events of this morning.

Victor: What are you talking about?

Victor, who had been struggling with some papers, looked up. The sunlight shone on his flowing black hair and his lips, drawing attention to the little mole on his lower lip. Looking into his jewel-like eyes framed by his long eyelashes, and his elegant, handsome features, my heart pounded as I fell in love all over again.

Kate: When we were having breakfast just now. Kate: You were listing out all the things you liked about me without batting an eye. Kate: I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. Kate: That’s cheating.

His eyes widened and he tilted his head.

Victor: Oh? Is it?

Kate: Yes, it is! Because I’m–

Victor: Hm?

Kate: …I’m the only one whose heart is racing.

We had fallen in love, chosen to tie our lives together, and reached our happily ever after. And from now on, my days would be filled with Victor, doing everything he could to make my heart race.

(I love you more and more with every day that passes. It might actually drive me crazy.)

Maybe the destruction Victor talked about would be how my heart would literally explode because I loved him so much. I was so in love with him that that didn’t sound unreasonable.

(But I wasn’t enchanted by his curse.)

Victor’s ability caused people to become obsessed with him. That had ruined the lives of so many people.

(But right now, he’s ruining my life in a completely different way…)

Not because he was cursed, not because he was queen, not because his powers had ensnared me. I was just so in love with Victor, as a person and as himself, that my heart couldn’t handle it. My life was tormented by the problem of being too happy. With a teasing smirk, Victor set down his pen. I thought he was going to make fun of me, but I didn’t expect what he did next.

Victor: Now we’re even.

Kate: Huh?

He had the widest smile on his face as he stood up and walked over to me.

Victor: I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you ever since the day we first met.

Kate: Ah!

He put his hand under my arms and lifted me up, sitting down on the chair I had occupied.

Victor: The next time we met, I was enchanted by how much you had grown.

He sat me back down on his lap and wrapped his arms around me.

Victor: After that, I continued to watch over you from afar. I was relieved that you were able to continue living well, but… Victor: …Every time I saw you, my heart would race so quickly I thought it would burst.

He planted a soft kiss on my cheek.

Victor: And ever since you joined Crown, I’ve been locked in a war with myself to stop my heart from falling to pieces out of pure joy.

His thumb traced my lips.

Victor: Haven’t you realized?

My heart skipped a beat as he turned the full force of his gorgeous smile towards me. I shook my head slightly.

Kate: You always look so calm. I didn’t know.

Victor: It’s a man’s nature to want to look cool in front of the woman of his dreams.

(I didn’t know Victor thought that.)

His words added another dimension to the interactions we’d had.

Kate: …But it’s still not fair I never get to see you look embarrassed!

Victor just laughed when I continued to protest, still seated on his lap.

Victor: Well then, why don’t you try telling me what you like about me?

I nodded easily, but then paused. I had already told him what I loved about him before we had officially become lovers.

(I want everything I tell you to be new.)

As I thought silently for some time, Victor looked surprised, then confused.

Victor: …There isn’t anything?

Kate: No, that’s not it! It’s the opposite, there’s just so many things I don’t know where to start…

He sounded so sad that I immediately had to deny it, and began blurting out whatever came to mind.

Kate: I love the warmth in your eyes when you look at me. The way your hands wrap around mine when you escort me. Kate: I love when you deliberately act spoiled sometimes, and how even though you’re determined, you always wait for me to give you my answer.

(And…)

I continued to count the reasons I loved him on my fingers.

Kate: I love the serious face you wear while working, and the cheerful one you show to the rest of Crown. Kate: And–

I suddenly realized that Victor was staring intently at me. His eyes were filled with a flickering heat. I slid my hand from his shoulder, letting it rest above his heart over his clothes. His heart was beating faster than usual. Seeing hints of his muscular body revealed by his collar, memories of last night drifted to my mind as I opened my mouth to continue.

Kate: I love how your body is so firm, how it’s big enough to cover me…

He took my hand, holding my wrist and guiding it down his body.

Victor: …Everything below this is for your eyes only.

He guided my hand across the muscles of his abdomen, only stopping once my hand reached his belt.

Kate: !

After how we had spent last night together, this action was enough to cause his heat to swell, pressing against his pants.

Victor: My heart and body all belong to you.

His whisper in my ear caused my lower stomach to flutter. With a seductive smile, he tried to pull my hand lower, I instinctively tried to draw back. Seeing how red my face was, Victor’s smile turned just a little bit wicked.

Victor: We’ve made love so many times last night, and you’re reacting like we’ve never been together even once. Victor: Don’t you think you should be used to it already?

His voice deepened, only adding to the seductive air around him. I couldn’t handle it anymore, and looked away.

Kate: I won’t ever get used to it…

He laughed lightly in response to my mumble.

Victor: I also think that your bare skin looks more and more beautiful every time I see it. I suppose we’re the same, in that regard.

Kate: What?

I reflexively looked back towards him, only to find his face mere inches from mine.

Victor: Perhaps a few more times, and we’ll both get used to it. Shall we give it a try?

Kate: Whoa!

He easily slipped one arm under my knees and lifted me as he stood, before walking over to his bookshelf. With a quick flip of a lever, his room appeared, and he set me down on his bed and pushed me into the sheets.

Kate: Nn.

Victor leaned over me and captured my lips in a heated kiss.

Kate: But work–

I threw out the first objection my flustered mind could think of, but there was no stopping Victor now. He flashed me a provocative grin.

Victor: –isn’t urgent. Victor: Right now, you are my priority.

Kate: -ah!

He devoured my lips once more, filling the room with the sound of kissing and heavy gasps. His warmth melded with mine, intensifying into an inferno. Through half-lidded eyes, I saw how his hair spilled out around us like a curtain. Thoroughly reminded of last night, my body began to thrum with anticipation. Suddenly he drew back, leaving me lightheaded as I stared at him.

Victor: Your eyes say it all. Greedy little things.

His hand cupped my cheek, but I managed to pout.

Kate: …It’s your fault. Kate: So you better do something about it.

I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Victor: Only if you also do something about putting me into this state. Victor: You’re the only one who can drive me wild like this, and sate my desires.

My blouse slipped off my shoulders, revealing my bare chest. I caught the way he gasped and the flush to his cheeks as he stared, and my heart began to pound.

(I heard a story somewhere, once.)

The number of times your heart would beat was decided from the day you were born. The faster your heart beats, the less you have left, and the closer you are to death.

(But I don’t think there’s anything that would make me happier.)

The more we loved each other, the more of our lives it would consume, until we fell hand-in-hand into oblivion. This love was our destruction, that would lead us to death.

#ikemen villains #my translation #victor (ikevil)

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charliegyrth · 3 days ago

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The Lottery Winner - 1 of 2

My Amazing New Job

Hi, everyone! Charlie here. I wrote this story based on a suggestion from one of my readers. Anonymous, wherever you are, I hope you like this story!

***

I didn’t expect the job interview to be by the side of a pool.

I’d catered plenty of events for eccentric rich people, and every single one of them had been a mixture of professional and condescending. Usually, they’d meet me in their drawing room (or “foyer” or whatever) and tell me a long list of what they do and don’t want. They depended on my services, so they treated me with respect (more or less), but at no point did any of them want me to feel comfortable in their fancy mansions.

So when Grant himself (not his butler) greeted me at the front door and gave me a tour of the place, I was a bit surprised. He took me into his courtyard and had me sit across from him in the shade of an umbrella. He even had lemonade waiting for me.

“The weather’s really nice today, huh?” he asked, smiling.

He was quite a handsome man. Tan. Muscular. Black hair and very dark eyes. He wore a loose gray shirt and torn blue jeans. He looked very blue-collar, and very out-of-place surrounded by all this opulence.

“Yeah,” I said. “Nice and breezy.”

That wasn’t a joke, but he laughed anyway. “I look around sometimes, and I still can’t believe that I live here.” Then he glanced away. “Sorry. I probably sound like an entitled snob, huh?”

“Not at all.” In fact, he was the first rich guy I’d met who didn’t sound like a snob. Most people with enough money to afford a place like this take everything for granted. They surround themselves with beauty and then refuse to appreciate it. Not Grant.

“Good,” he said, laughing again. “This is all so new to me. I won the lottery a few months back and I moved here three weeks ago. I’m still adjusting.”

“Wow.” I always thought the lottery was a scam. I barely knew this guy, but I could tell that he was genuine, that for once, all that money went to the right person.

He clapped his hands together. “Tell me about yourself, Bradley!”

I assumed he was asking about my professional experience. Despite how friendly he was acting, this was still a job interview. “Well, I went to Le Gran Culinary School. I was sous chef for three years at Langley’s in Vegas. And for the last three years, I’ve been head chef at—”

“Marcone’s,” he finished for me.

“Yeah.”

“That’s why I know you’ll be perfect. I’ve eaten there like ten times since I got rich, and my God, the food is incredible!”

“Thank you.”

“I actually saw you a couple times, too. Talking to your workers or whatever. You always seemed so… nice. Not, you know, Gordon-Ramsay-ing at people.”

“Thank you,” I said again. I trained under some real monsters, so I always tried to treat my crew with respect. They worked better that way.

“So?” Grant said. “Will you take the job?”

“Um, aren’t you gonna ask me more questions?”

“No,” he said very casually. “Don’t need to. And I really, really need a cook. I work in construction. Well, worked, I guess. I have this big fancy kitchen now and the only food I can make is cold cereal.”

I took a long sip of his lemonade, forcing myself not to flinch at the tartness. It was terrible.

This was the single easiest job interview of my life. No hard questions. No questions at all, really. Just a friendly, extremely handsome guy who liked my cooking and wanted me as his live-in chef. I knew that I should take some time to think about it, but I just had this feeling that I was meant to be here.

“I’d love to work for you, Grant.”

***

Grant stepped out of the pool, pushing back his dripping hair. It took all my strength not to stare like a cartoon character. When I started working here a week ago, I had no idea that my employer was so freaking hot. I knew he was handsome, obviously. His dark eyes and sharp jaw gave his face definite movie-star vibes. But seeing him shirtless, seeing how a decade of construction work had hardened his body… I mean, Jesus. The guy looked like he could be on the cover of a romance novel.

I also didn’t realize just how often he’d go around shirtless. He spent huge stretches of the day longing in the pool, and often, he’d get out of the water and just remain shirtless.

It was so difficult to act professional around him, to look him in the eyes when all I wanted to do was stare at his developed, dark-haired chest. He wasn’t gay, of course, so the unobtainability helped, for sure. He always treated me like a friend instead of an employee, though, and there were times when his friendliness verged on flirting.

All in my head, though.

He walked from the pool to the table, still dripping wet. I had just set out his lunch, two submarine sandwiches and a salad. He had a huge appetite (and always finished his meals), so it was genuinely amazing that he had maintained his godlike physique.

I waited at the table, just in case he needed anything else. (Sometimes he asked for a bowl of ice cream to go with his lunch.) He smiled gratefully at the food. “Looks amazing as always.”

“Thank you, Grant.” (He told me multiple times not to call him sir.) “Would you like anything else?”

“Actually, yeah. But you can say no if you want.”

I wouldn’t say no if he asked for a kidney. He paid me a fortune and I got to live in this mansion. “Anything you want.”

“Can you eat with me? I’d like the company.”

I felt my cheeks blush. “Absolutely. Just give me a second.”

I ran back inside and grabbed my own sandwich. Whenever I cooked for Grant, I always made an extra (smaller) portion for myself. I wasn’t much of an eater.

He was already chowing down on his first sandwich when I came back and sat across from him. Even when he was scarfing down food, he looked handsome. I liked watching him enjoy my work. I really did.

“How are you liking it here so far?” he asked through a mouthful of food.

“Love it. Really.”

“Great,” he said. “You know, you remind me a lot of my ex Jennifer. Great cook. Happy all the time.”

That comment gave me some mixed feelings. I was glad that he liked my personality, that he thought I was “happy all the time” even though he was the one constantly laughing and smiling. And I guess I liked that I reminded him of his ex. I didn’t like that he was comparing me to a woman, though.

“Thanks.”

“Oh,” he mumbled. “I offended you.”

I shrugged.

“Sorry, B.” (He’d started calling me B instead of Bradley. I was on the fence about that.) “I’m not used to, you know…”

“Talking with gay people?” I asked.

He flinched. “Having employees.” Then he looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. “You’re gay?”

I laughed. I thought he was joking. Everyone who met me knew I was gay. My kindergarten teacher knew it. Then I realized he was dead serious. “Yeah. I am.”

“Oh,” he said. It was the most neutral-sounding “oh” you could imagine. I couldn’t tell if he was totally fine with it or if he was freaked out and wanted to fire me.

We sat in silence for a while. Grant kept eating, still with an awkward expression, still staring at me. I just sat there.

Finally, he asked, “So are you dating anyone right now? Sorry if I’m not supposed to ask.”

“No,” I said. “Freshly single.” That was one of the reasons I quit working at Marcone’s. My ex was one of the owners.

“Oh,” he said again. That “oh” had a lot of meaning. Was he interested? Did this straight, rich former construction worker like me? It sure sounded like it.

Then he added, “If you want to get back out there, go on dates and stuff, just let me know. I don’t wanna hold you back.”

My heart sank. Nope, he didn’t like me. He was just being a good boss.

“Thanks,” I said. I really should reenter the dating scene. It had been too long.

We started talking about other things (thankfully). He told me about his favorite action movies (which removed all doubt that he was gay). Pleasant conversation, though. I really enjoyed eating with him.

Pretty soon, he finished his meal and I pushed the remains of my sandwich to the side. (I told you I wasn’t a big eater.)

He looked at my plate with a hint of disappointment. “You don’t like your own food?”

“No, I just don’t eat a lot.”

“Then, um, can I have it?”

I’d left two thirds of my sandwich, but my bite marks were on it.

“I can make you another one if you’re still hungry?”

“I’m not. I just don’t like food going to waste.”

I pushed the plate toward him. He smiled and kept eating.

***

We ate every meal together after that. He always ate my leftovers. He always complimented me, too. I knew I was a great cook, but there were very few compliments in the restaurant industry. In movies, you see people sending their "compliments to the chef," but in reality, that never happens. It felt great to be so appreciated.

It also felt great to get to know Grant. We got into deep conversations. He told me everything about himself, from his struggles as a kid in foster care, to his difficult high school experience, to his long days working construction. He never complained. If I had lived through a fraction of the difficulties that he had, I wouldn’t stop complaining. Not Grant. He took life as it came and was grateful for everything he had.

We didn’t just confine our conversations to the dinner table, though. We hung out throughout the day. Some nights, we’d watch movies together. We went shopping a couple times. I even introduced him to my family. Outside of actual romance, it felt like we were a couple.

I think that’s why I felt confident enough to tell him that he was gaining weight. I first noticed it a month into the job, when I saw his shirtless stomach bunch into rolls during one of our lunches. At the time, I assumed it was just a temporary softening, but two weeks later, those rolls had only gotten more obvious. That’s when I said, “Grant, I think you’re gaining weight. If you want me to adjust our menu, I totally can.”

He looked down at his stomach and poked his new flab with his fingers. He seemed surprised but not concerned. “I guess I am. And no, don’t change the menu at all. It’s too good.”

And that was that. I’d brought it to his attention, and since he didn’t seem to care, I decided not to mention it again. He was choosing my food over his own appearance, and I was fine with that. He still looked quite handsome.

His added pudge didn’t change his habits at all. He still walked around shirtless all the time. He still finished all his food and most of mine. He still acted confident in his own skin. I missed his six-pack, but that confidence more than made up for it.

One day, three months after I moved in, he surprised me in the kitchen. His belly was rounder than it ever had been, and his nipples were starting to look puffy. I was surprised to see him. He never interrupted me when I was cooking.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. I just wanted to see you. And if it’s not too much of a distraction, I kinda wanted to see you at work. Maybe I could learn some tricks.”

Even though I loved seeing him with his shirt off, I told him to put something on so that his thick chest and belly hair didn’t end up in our food.

He laughed at my request but did as I said. As he bounded out of the room, I noticed that his ass was jiggling under his shorts. That was a new development.

When he came back in, he was wearing an old gray shirt that I’d seen him in plenty of times before. Now, it barely contained his belly. A sliver of skin was exposed at the bottom. He noticed my eyes dart down there.

“I know,” he muttered. “I think we need to go shopping again.”

That sentence struck me for two reasons:

One, he still wasn’t upset at his weight gain, and he expected it to continue.

And two, he said “we.” It definitely sounded like something a boyfriend would say. Whether or not he saw me in a romantic light, we’d settling into the rhythms of a couple.

I pushed that thought out of my brain and started showing him around the kitchen. I was making beef stroganoff and had all the ingredients laid out and ready to go.

He listened attentively, asking enough questions to tell me that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. (He literally got the “stove” and “oven” mixed up.) As a professional cook, I should’ve been annoyed, but I thought it was cute.

Everything about him was cute. His excitement. His eagerness to learn. Even the way his little belly bobbed around as he rushed across the kitchen trying to “help.”

When it was time to mix the cream sauce on the stove (not the oven), I had him do the stirring for me. I grabbed his waist and positioned him in front of the pan, then reached around him and guided his hand so he’d stir at the right speed. I didn’t realize how intimate this was until he looked at me over his shoulder. He had a strange look in his eyes. A hungry look. “You’re a good cook, B.”

“And you’re a fast learner,” I said. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. But whatever. It made him smile. He was still looking at me, so I added, “Eyes on the sauce, please.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

I gave him some space. I didn’t want to take things too far.

With my instructions, he finished the rest of the meal himself. I was so proud of him.

Read Part 2 here. Check out my list of stories here and my ebooks here.

#gainer fiction #gainerstory #gainer stories #feeder fiction #male wg #gainerfiction #gainer story #gainerstories #weight gain fiction #gay feeder #weight gain story #bhm wg

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