#if I'm not saying what I think I'm saying; like if the words are the wrong words and are confusing everyone

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader warning(s): ladies, red warning so yk i'm not playing — NASTYYYYY dirty talk ahead, mating press, lowkey highkey breeding kink, daddy kink, crying, deepness / cervix-play, strap, i think thats it but one more warning for that dirty talk.

synopsis: baby daddy paige in da building! don't even wanna say too much 😅 brave girls read! word count: 695. Author Note: guys i have no recollection of when i wrote this which is what makes it sicker...i can just tell i was in the throes of ovulation & baby fever tho (as i usually am) 😓

“Take it, baby, fuck—”Paige growled, giving your cunt unimpeded deep strokes, the blonde thrusting into you with relentless speed, a proud grin spreading across her sexy, sweat-slicked face as she pounded you into the mattress. "Fuck, ma, look how much she likes that dick, hm?"

"Yeah, shit P, oh! Shit daddy, fuck me like that, fuck-" you whined, your voice breaking as your body trembled with pleasure, hips bucking up to meet each of her piercing strokes, completely overwhelmed by the sensation.

Paige shifted back, hoisting your ankles over her shoulders and folding you deeper into the mattress, her brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten down in intense concentration as she positioned you in the mating press. —She was so close to your drenched pussy—sweaty body flush against yours, nipples coated in your slick sweat pressed together, and she had somehow managed to fit all the length of her strap impossibly within you, buried to fucking hilt. She was screwing you with an intensity that felt like life itself, yet it was as if she was simultaneously killing you.

She was way stronger, way bigger, and had the stamina to keep up at it for multiple rounds: with the determination in her movements and the determined look on her face, you knew there was no chance of her letting you up soon—especially not when you could feel every single inch of the plastic inside your soaked, dripping cunt, and the faint pulse of her vibrator against your g-spot. "Deep, baby, deeep... aw shit," she groaned as she plunged into the depths of your cunt, her movements audible and slick, cock messily slipping in & out of you like a fountain. Your arousal dripped dirtily all over both your thighs, coating both Paige, yourself, and the sheets beneath you. Your toes clenched tightly, a shout escaping you, far too loud for a 3 a.m. night in your condo. She filled you, true to her word, her thrusts deep and unyielding as you clung to her back—perhaps for comfort, even as she was the one ravaging your pussy. Your purple nails raked into her skin—her favorite color—leaving marks as you desperately pulled her closer, your arousal splashing onto her as she pounded into you.

"Ah! AH! Fuck, Paige... please!" you cried out when you felt the tip of her strap hitting a spot—one you never even knew existed, as you had NEVER had anything prodding this deep inside of you before.

"Where you feelin' me, baby? Hm? Show me where I'm at," she whispered against your cheek, her labored breath mingling with the clapping of slick, heated skin.

Your hands shook as you tried to gather the strength to point, but your mind was spinning. When she spat at you, commanding like a dominatrix, "Where?!" you couldn’t help but obey. "Here! Here, right here, Paige!" you moaned, clutching your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of her strap. She released her grip on your legs briefly, guiding your hands to press down against it. Each thrust emphasized the jab and knock in your gut, sending a euphoric mix of pressure and pleasure through your body.

You made a sound—something between a cry and a shout, lost in the overwhelming of pleasure and passion.

"Imma make that pussy cum again, baby, okay?" she purred, her voice low and almost sweet, making your cunt clench desperately around her strap, anticipation building with every rock of her hips into yours. "Okay? Talk to me, baby—wanna cum on my dick? Want me to fuck my cum into you?" she coaxed. You sobbed, a desperate moan escaping from the depths of your loins—you could barely breathe, and she was thrilled, her blue eyes shining with dark satisfaction.

"Y-yeah, I want your kids, P, mhm!"

She grinned deviously, increasing her pace, each thrust filled with purposeful intent. "Yeah? You want daddys kids? Give my baby something to do while I’m away?"

"I want you, yeah," you gasped at her, and she smirked at that. "I’m gonna make sure you feel me even when I’m gone this week, baby." And just like that, you were cumming, back to square one enduring her pleasuring wrath. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: i can't even yap right now.. how are we doing ladies? post-war thoughts 🤔😔💭 i've been gone for so long missed ya byeee!

[hello-eden]

Grief Filled Promise

Talia appeared in the dead of night. Landing without a sound on the rooftop in front of him. They sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity before she decided to speak.

“He's not my first child you know”  

“Hn” Surprise took over him with those words.

“If you really must know, he is my seventh.” Tailia was showing more emotion than he'd ever seen her exude.

“What happened to them” Bruce almost stepped closer to her both wanting to comfort her and knowing that she would not accept the comfort he held back.

“Only two made it out of infancy” Her face became blank as if she was trying to suppress every emotion both good and bad.  “Another son and daughter, My only daughter”

“I'm sorry”  he didn't know what to do other than apologize. He knew the grief of dead children better than he wanted to.

“Your compassion was always a gift beloved but that is not why I told you this”  This time she stepped closer. Her face showing an emotion for the first time since the start of the conversation. it was obvious she was going to start a threat. “you will keep our son safe  I can’t handle seeing more of my children buried”

“I swear to you I will keep our son safe” She didn't even have to ask.

“I know you would, I just needed you to say it” it breaks his heart that she feels the need for it to be said out loud.

Silence settled over them again as he digested exactly what she had just admitted to and her looking at his reaction to her words.

“What happened to the other two?”  Bruce asked his curiosity getting the better of him. it was only after he said it but he realized he should have stayed quiet. Another emotion showed on her face this time heartbreak.

“I don't know, I think that's what breaks my heart even more. I have hope that I can see them again but I think they'll forgive me for not looking if it means taking care of their little brother.”  He could tell that she hated every word she was saying but seemed resigned to it.

 “Were they-”  he stopped not knowing if he wanted the answer

“They weren't yours I wish they were but they were not”  He doesn't know if that answer is better or worse.

“I can look for you if you want” it's the least he can do. For all the pain that she has caused him he seems to have given it back without meaning to.

“ No, I think I want to look myself “ she seemed to take a deep breath before saying her next words “When I'm ready” she collected herself seeming to transform back into the strong Confident Woman he thought would be landing on the roof in front of him.

She stepped forward towards him as close as she could. She lifted her trying to cup his cheek and pressed a light kiss to his lips. 

“Goodbye for now Bruce”

 he seemed to blink and she was gone.

[orbitsaturn]

the steps to get the best commissions.

─ except kinich can't make a guide when a "random" person keeps getting the good ones.

"so you're the one getting my commissions."

art creds: Chil_a_Su

kinich x reader

fluff

lowercase intended!

──────────────────────

kinich is infamous for his utilitarian approach to life. he only does commissions when the reward is satisfactory. but when he does accept a commission, he does it pretty damn well. so when a traveling journalist from fontaine heard about this pragmatic individual he wanted to write a report about him! for some miracle, the renowned kinich actually agreed to his report, albeit, he had to pay a hefty price in exchange.

Step 1: find a commission worth taking. 5/14

"usually i calculate how long the commission would take and what resources i need to put into it," kinich says to the reporter, crossing his arms while scanning the commission board for any worth taking. "i see! what happens if the one who posts the commission can't pay?" the reporter asks, writing down kinich's words rapidly.

"well-"

"you don't want to know! haha!" kinich's companion, ajaw exclaims loudly.

"oh um- i see!" the journalist sweats at his words.

shooing away ajaw, kinich turns to the journalist, "don't mind him, most people can pay since they need a deposit to post a commission."

"that's great! the adventurer's guild knows how to make a profit, haha." the journalist laughs while kinich was observing the board.

"hm, it seems like there aren't any commissions worth taking today." kinich faces the fontainian again. "do you mind finishing your report tomorrow?"

"aw man! well if there isn't a commission that isn't piquing your interest i'll meet you at the commission board tomorrow." the journalist sighs dramatically before walking away to find more people to write about.

"are all fontainians that dramatic?" ajaw clicks his tongue, seeing the journalist bothering other people.

"probably."

━━

Step 1: find a commission worth taking. 5/15

as kinich scans the board again a small sigh escapes his mouth. "sorry, the commissions here aren't that great today either."

"ah, that's fine." the journalist thinks for a moment before coming up with an idea, "actually, do you just want to write down what you do in a commission? you can keep it brief." seeing kinich's unamused expression he adds on, "I'll pay extra."

"deal."

━━

Step 1: find a commission worth taking. 5/16

"are you serious?!" ajaw yells angrily at kinich. which he only glares at the dragon in response.

"I'm telling you, we'll have to come back another day."

looking at kinich in shock, ajaw's face turns red in an instant, "UGHHHHHH!! just take a random commission!" ajaw cries, rolling around in the air in frustration.

"no, I don't want to waste my time." he waves off ajaw before walking away.

━━

Step 1: find a commission worth taking. 5/17

"..." the amber-eyed man stares at the board in disappointment once again.

kinich was a bit irked.

I mean, I guess he has an unofficial vacation going on because of the lack of worthwhile commissions. but that journalist did pay him a good amount of mora for a report on how he does commissions, so he'll make sure that fontainian is so satisfied he'll start getting commissions from fontaine.

"oh, no commissions again? that's so saaadd!" ajaw yells dramatically, sighing very loudly.

and he thought fontainians were dramatic.

━━

Step 1: find a fucking commission worth taking. 5/18

as kinich scans the commission board, one catches his eye.

WAYOB MANIFESTATION SPOTTED NEAR AMELYALCO WATERS.

REWARD: 50,000 MORA

oh? this one's worth taking.

kinich reaches to grab the flyer, yet a hand rips it out from the board before he can even touch it. he turns to the owner of hand, who's smiling happily at the commission in their hands.

"hey you," kinich gives you a tap on the shoulder, causing you to whip your head at him in confusion.

"so you're the one getting my commissions." he chuckles, yet it doesn't sound like it was evoked from amusement.

it sounded like it was due to annoyance.

"uh? your commissions??" you stare at him baffled. he stretches his hand towards you, motioning you to hand over the flyer.

"i need that," he states in a matter-of-fact tone. causing you to instantly whip your hand up high-

like that'll do anything...

kinich deadpans at you, "wow, it's so high maybe you should have it after all."

"y-yeah! it's mine okay?!" you exclaim, flustered over the stupid act you pulled before trying to rush out.

"hold on," he grabs your hand, "you're not going anywhere."

"well i am going somewhere!" you try yanking your hand but to avail, it doesn't budge.

"I'll pay you 5,000 mora if you give me that commission," he responds.

"nuh uh! I don't need money!" you exclaim, shaking your head profusely.

"10,000."

"NO!"

"15,000."

"NO! aren't you gonna lose profit??" you look at him, baffled by the increasing price points.

"mm, you're right. but look," he lets go of your hand, "I'll pay you the reward money for that commission and you give it to me." kinich says, with ajaw nodding profusely in the back.

'HUUUH?! but I wanna fight!" you cried, "it's not about the money it's for the love of the game!"

kinich stares at you with the same, but the twitch of his hand shows the effects of your proclamation.

"hmph. fine, keep it." he gives you a strange look before walking away.

━━

Step 1: find a commission worth taking. 5/19

as kinich heads over to the commission board once again, he spots a familiar figure.

it was you, holding a flyer in hand, pacing around the board for no reason. but after you spot him you instantly perk up.

"oh, you! random stranger from yesterday!" you run over to kinich, flyer in hand, "so um, i felt kinda bad about yesterday.. so here." you hand over the flyer to kinich.

"thank you, but," he walks closer to you, the distance between you two getting smaller and smaller, "if you're sorry then do this commission with me." he smacks the flyer lightly on your forehead.

"really?!" you look at him in surprise.

"yes really, this is the only time i'm ever going to do a joint commission, so do you want to go or not?" kinich crosses his arms, looking at you expectantly.

"I'll go!"

Note: sometimes commissions can be done by two to maximize profits.

but kinich wouldn't admit he proposed the idea of a joint commission since he found your determination cute.

oh well, it won't be the last time he does joint commissions, contrary to what he said.

[astrobydalia]

September Observations

This post has a TW I do not allow the repost on any others platform

© astrobydalia

Something I forgot to mention in this post about 8th house synastry!! I've noticed for some reason this overlay tends to manifest more positively when the house person already has 8th house placements in their natal chart (not a guarantee tho). I feel like its because this makes the house person be more naturally in their power and the planet person no longer feels like they can have control over the house person. In these cases instead of envy the planet person feels admiration and "positive" obsession over the house person like "Im obsessed with you, queen!🥰​😍​🤩​" kinda vibe

If Libra Moons didn’t have the ability to detach fast they could easily pass as water moons 100%. They are such hopeless romantics and love having someone to love be that friends or partners. And yes they can be codependent but only to an extent imo. I’ve seen Libra Moons actually detach surprisingly fast specially if they feel like you don’t match their energy

Im sorry but Libra Suns are not people you can count on imo. They have this very elitist/opportunistic mindset when it comes to people. They treat people based on some kind of unspoken social hierarchy they have in their minds like how successful or intelligent or interesting you appear to be for example. They'll be loyal for as long as they see benefit from associating themselves with you, otherwise they'll be distant, elusive and flighty af. Socially they appear to be super chill but they aren’t like at all, they’re very passive-aggressive and extremely judgmental of others

If you have Venusian MC/10th house (Libra or Taurus MC/10th or Venus in the 10th house), I've noticed people care what you think of them and really feel the need to make a good impression on you, specially the sex you're attracted to romantically. This placement makes people feel like your love and affection is a privilege to have, that’s why a lot of trophy wives have venusian 10th house/MC

Jupiterians (Pisces/Sagittarius but specially Sagittarius placements) are just the best people to be around tbh. Even when they have other toxic placements/energies in their charts, I’ve noticed they are ultimately all about the ✨vibes✨. They detach from negativity quite fast and avoid getting too deep into drama and controversy cause really all they want is to chill and have fun. The “no worries, bro” kinda people. The negative side of this tho is they tend to turn a blind eye when they get called out on their own issues and/or have a tendency to be dismissive when it’s time to take things seriously

^^^You’d say Venusians relate to this peaceful description too but tbh I didn’t include them cause Venusians tend to have a lot of repressed shit and are secretly all about drama (but watching it go down from afar tho)

I’ve noticed water mercury tend to be more diplomatic and charming with their words, the way they speak about things tends to be more soothing yet nebulous/confusing/cryptic. However earth mercuries are more direct and critical which makes them more prone to openly talking shit LMAO

There's a lot of posts victimizing and romanticizing Lilith in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC but I've seen this placement a lot in bullies and genuinely fraudulent people?? I've seen Lilith energy is commonly prominent in the charts of criminals too. Like​ idk why people act like the hate Lilith gets is ALWAYS unjustified 💀 They can truly be really dark and shady individuals that’s literally what Lilith signifies (this does not apply to everyone of courseeeeee)

Furthermore, I'm sorry to say this but prominent Lilith natives have a habit of living too much in the victim mindset and constantly make everyone else the problem as a way to justify their shitty behaviors

What I’ve noticed with Lilith natives who are not sketchy people (so just normal decent individuals) is that they have huge self-destructive and self-derogatory tendencies. They tend to become very cynical of the world, lose hope in their own value and humiliate themselves behaving in ways that are rebellious to them but make other people think the native has no self-respect

Libra/7th house Lilith tend to assume the worst in others. Envy placement. They struggle finding genuine and healthy relationships

I've noticed MC ruler in the 12th house is common in the charts of sex workers since 12th house is related to bed pleasures, secret affairs, etc

The sign that actually behaves like a child irl is Gemini. That’s why I've noticed Gemini placements always want to be the 'cool and fun parent' just like Phil Dunphy

TW: mentions of c**** abuse and s******.

I've noticed Cancer energy (Leo too but mostly cancer) is very common in the charts of p*dos, gr**mers and s*xual predators. No placement will determine someone being this way!!!

Chiron in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC/Harshly aspecting chart ruler is common in the charts of people who have or have tried to commit s******

End of TW

An underrated god complex indicator is Sun-Mercury conjunction. I can't stress enough how much these people's ego revolve around their intellect. Their entire personality to them is being the smartest person in the room

When it comes to pride and ego (Sun) fixed and mutable suns are the most likely to have a superiority complex

Mutable Suns take the most pride on their own knowledge and judgment, deeply believe they know better or have most if not all the answers. They have a tendency to often dismiss, correct or contradict others

Fixed Suns take pride in their own ‘essence’ if that make sense. They LOVE the idea of being special and irreplaceable. Feeling like there’s something intrinsically unique about them

Cardinal Suns are okay tbh. They can have other negatives but when it comes to ego theirs is usually pretty balanced I noticed. They usually take pride in their ability to level-up and improve themselves which often makes them rather competitive or in extreme cases have this heavily predatory mindset when it comes to what they want

This will not be accurate for everyone of course but when it comes to future children if you have Water/Earth moon you are most likely to have girls whereas if you have Air/Fire moon you're more most likely to have boys

Air Venus people are the most open-minded when it comes to taste in general. I've noticed they're the type to enjoy almost every music and movie genre, they can appreciate different aesthetics.... They're also the most likely to date outside their race I've seen cause they can really find beauty in all sort of features as long as it looks overall good/attractive to them. It's not that they don't have preferences, but they're type be open to being impressed and mentally stimulated

EARTH and Fire Venus people are the most selective when it comes to their taste. They know exactly what they want and like. In the case of earth Venus this can be to the point of strong reluctance to try new things. Fire Venus appear open minded cause they have this attitude of trying everything once but the usually have a very hard-set type of things they will actually commit to

Water Venus people aren't that open about their tastes. They hide or repress them cause they really tend to be into obscure or hidden stuff. If you ask them what they like, they'll give you an evasive and generic answer, specially if it's in the context of small talk

I've noticed Capricorn and Scorpio Moons have an innate understanding of the uglier sides of human nature which is what makes them pretty cynical (scorpio) and pessimistic (cap). They are hyper-aware of how most people can be bought and corrupted. This makes them AMAZING business people tho.

Aries ASC natives embody the active, wild and spontaneous stereotype more than the other aries placements. They come across as pretty chill at first but there's actually very little they won't dare to do, they love adventures

I've noticed Venusians can do really good in anything related to sales or business counseling, because they are good at estimating and promoting the value of things

I know we relate Neptune to otherworldly and glamorous vibe but all the people that I've met who made me go "wow, girl, you don't feel real" were people who had air signs in their big 3. They’re not real people, they’re concepts, I swear that’s the vibe they give me💀💀

Also, air signs in the big 3 is an underrated fame/success indicator imo. Nowadays networking is everything in order to succeed and these natives naturally attract popularity and connections SO easily. They effortlessly use their charm and likeness to gain opportunities

I once saw an observation that said Gemini risings give off dumb blonde energy and Im here to confirm it’s true, specially when Mercury is also in an air sign. This happens cause they're up in their minds all the time but this makes them appear VERY disconnected from their environment so they really just be looking like this 24/7 😀​😃​😄​😁​😆​🙂​ and that's why they come across as empty-headed. They also often have this manic pixie dream girl energy which results in people not taking them seriously. This is enhanced when you see that they have a tendency to get talkative about superficial or random topics but their more intelligent or deep thoughts they keep to themselves for some reason.

Taurus Moons actually are actually very very very strategic??? Other earth moons look messy af beside them. They're so grounded that they know exactly what they want, how they wanna get it and they are so sure of themselves they have no issue taking their sweet ass time with it. Every single step they take is so intentional and "organized" if that makes sense, but they pull it off as natural and spontaneous??

Also this is an obvious thing to say but Taurus Moons are so emotionally stable. They work extremely well under pressure, will literally be the calm person admist a chaos or extreme situation. I've seen Cap/Virgo moons getting triggered many times but Taurus moons???? I've known some of them for years and I've never seen them triggered EVER no matter happened which as a water moon that's fucking insane to me 😭​💀​💀​ Like sure depending on their personality they can be more or less expressive of their feelings but its always on their own terms, they don't let other people or situations just get reactions out of them if that makes sense

I've noticed Mercury in the 4th house creates a divided and scattered family. Just like Mercury in the 10th house indicates traveling for work, Mercury in the 4th indicates traveling because of your family. The people I've seen with this placement have all of their family members scattered around the world living completely different lives

Sun-Neptune harsh aspects are very impressionable people and very easily influenced

Also, a lot of people point out Sun-Pluto aspects have like a hidden dark/toxic side to their personality but I've seen it's actually Sun-Neptune that match this description

Libra placements can potentially be very disciplined and do well in demanding and/or serious occupations like corporate, military or athletes since Saturn is exalted in Libra.

Venus in the 1st house can tend to only value the superficially good things in them (lovable, likabale, beautiful, etc) and are more concerned with the image they present rather than building a real personality deep down. This make them ignore or downplay their flaws thus not reacting well to criticism and/or when someone does not like them.

All the men that I’ve met who were actually providers and had this involved father and husband vibes always had VIRGO, taurus and cancer placements

Men with capricorn placements aren’t providers, they’re just controlling af😭😭 They will also be emotionally distant and manipulative af too if they do not have other energies in the chart to balance it out

Honestly water suns (sun in a water house natives too) fascinate me. They just go around life casually hiding who they really are like they don’t have the most intricate personality deep down. All of them have mysterious and intriguing vibes it's not just scorpio!!!

5th house placements (including vertex) will stay behaving like teenagers regardless of their age. The song "forever young" by alphaville really describes them

Neptune in the 1st house/asc are prone to attracting lots and lots of creepy individuals because they have this aura where people project all sorts of delulu and twisted shit on them. Mentally and/or emotionally unwell people feel very attached to these natives unfortunately

Leo MC/10th house really does indicate a career where you're some kind of performer. That’s why many celebrities (specially ACTORS and singers) are Scorpio risings. This can also apply to careers like politics, public speaker, standup comedian, etc. All of these involve some level of fame ofc

Cancer MC/10th house indicates being some kind of creator (cancer=birthing something new, bringing something to life). This a lot of times relate to some art form of course but it can be other things for example a friend of mine has this placement and she works in science and she told me she works in a lab with substances and materials she created herself (idk how it works but you get the idea)

Pisces Suns have a major in gaslighting from the university of never taking responsibility. This can be the case for any unevolved pisces placement but I’ve noticed the lying to your face and twisting reality is much more blatant in Pisces Suns for some reason. They make arguments in such a way that you can tell something of what they’re saying is off but you can’t exactly prove them wrong either so 🤷🏽‍♀️💀

Mercurial placements (Gemini/Virgo) and Venus in the 3rd house may really love wearing rings or lots of bracelets, big watches, etc. Accessories that bring attention to the hands essentially

Libra placentas may or may not want to be "liked" but Libra Moon is a placement I've seen is genuinely liked by everyone. They have this calming and loving energy to them. Celebrities with this placement are generally unproblematic (Anne Hathaway, Emma Stone) or if they are problematic they can easily recover from backlash (Ariana Grande, Leo DiCaprio)

© astrobydalia

[goteique]

| MY STARGIRL + rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne. 

+cw. — f!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, established relationship, unprotected, s/d dynamics, explicit smut, rafayel is in heat, period sex, oral sex, f!overstim + m!overstim,  | +wc. — 3.5k |

+syn. — the thought of having a quickie with you occurred to him so suddenly and so enormously that all he needed was just to make it go away. However, it did not stop there.

+notes. — something possessed me while I wrote this. So happy that I’m finally making the debut post for this fandom & thanks to @hayatoseyepatch for beta reading all my lads pieces. | redirect to blog navigation

◈ RAFAYEL. 

“It’s just the tip baby,” Rafayel whispers against your ears followed by a prolonged groan. Encapsulated by his arms you feel immobile under his touch. He adds, “I promise.” You know him better than he knows himself. He says it's just the tip but the way he is being handsy with you, playing with the hem of your robes, pressing himself against you it does not strengthen the promise part of his word. 

“I don’t think you will. . .ahaAah!” His lips have already moved onto the bottom of your nape. You can feel his teeth sinking into your skin.  You can still look at the view of the vast blue of the sea through the window but as his hands skim under your dress cupping your breasts you moaningly exclaim, “I bet you won’t stop just at the tip.” There is a hint of mockery in your tone, underneath that, a challenge. Rafayel can take on challenges quite well even though he will whine about them throughout, very well when it is coming from you but not a taunt. That’s still a little hard to digest for him.

“Hah! We’ll see who’s on the winning side,” He rasps against your ears before turning you towards himself. Now your back is against the warm glass window. The heat does not irritate your skin since the sun is not very rowdy today but Rafayel is. Rafayel does not wait any further for any form of resistance but ends up smashing his lips against yours. It is the first time he has been like this, so needy, so rough, and above everything you like it. Is he on his heat cycle already? Both of your hands rest on his chest, trying to push him away at the possible realization because it would be dangerous for both of you but he just wouldn’t budge. So, instead of trying to resist, you just give in. 

“We’re not going to do this here, are we?”Rafayel does not answer your question with words but with his actions. He clusters all your dress up and tucking it over your boobs. You gulp as you help him to unbuckle his belt. As soon as his pants hit the floor, you can see the evidence of his yearning for you. 

Rafayel takes you into his lap by hoisting you up in his arms. The moment he pushes the head of his cock inside you, a gush of warmth washes all over your body. It is a beach resort solely owned by him where you have accompanied him but there must be at least a few staff, right? What if they see you like this? The chances are bleak but never zero. Those worrisome thoughts were pushed aside you feel the base of his cock hitting your skin with a strong deep thrust making you arch and moan.  You tip your head forward to say, “But Rafayel. . .you said. . . it's just the tip.” 

“And you said I —ahh— I can’t be stopped at just the tip.” He states as he starts to rut into you. “I'm just proving you right. Doesn't it feel good to be on the winning side?” it does . . . it does . . . your arms encapsulate around his shoulders as he starts to bob you up and down his fat shaft as you bury your face into his shoulders. He is stronger than his usual self. As he quickens his pace you start to whimper and you can feel him leaking and growing inside you, reaching your sweet spot as he keeps rutting into you in full yet strong thrusts.

By now, he has fucked you in different positions and different places of the resort keeping in mind not to finish inside you. He can not just help it: chasing the thought of cumming inside you especially when he fucked you raw for the first time. But he can wait. No. he will wait for you till you are begging for him.

And, when the sun sinks into the sea making the sky blush at its fullest, you and him are deep in slumber, in front of the fireplace, under the sheets, naked underneath, and holding each other.

◈ SYLUS.

It’s painful. He has been teasing you for a while now and your posture does not make it easier for you. Your muscles feel clammy. The way Sylus keeps rubbing the tip of his cock-head against your soft, tender flesh of your femininity gradually wears off your patience, thinning your limit and testing your sanity. It was you. It was all you. You admit that but you did not think he would be able to keep up when you kept being so needy, so ready for him. By now, you have come to know his melting points and you know when to abuse them and when not to. When you said you needed him, despite being in your months-time, at first he hesitated because you are not someone who can easily beg or ask for things but when you kept being handsy, and distracting him he said he would— with just the tip— a mere quickie but you never knew it would turn out to be this tormenting.

“Wait Sylus. You gasp as he rests both of his palms over your respective knees. This position.”

“Yeah, too deep?” Sylus verbalized with a veil of mischief over his face as he spread your legs apart as a result pushing the tip of his cock-head inside you. But before now, he would jock down to kiss you,  suckle at your nipples, and play with your hair but his cock would still be rubbing against the outer folds of your pussy, and truth be told, it was good, it was okay you felt satisfied but the moment you felt his cock inside you, even just the tip, it made you want all of him. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”. He isn’t; if anything he is diluting your self-control by pushing himself in you in small doses.

Sylus smiles as he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it. He sees it the way you keep swallowing, gasping for breath, biting your lip, touching yourself — you do that when you want something yet can not ask for it. As you half-lay on the bed, with elbows resting on the mattress creating dips under the influence of your pressure Sylus leans towards you his hands still intact on your knees, spreading them further as a result of which he sinks more into you; you gasp followed by a moan feeling almost half of him inside you. With a crease amongst your eyes, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down while the night robe is barely covering your breasts you look divine under the dim light of the room.

You can feel how aroused you are. It would merely take a few thrusts to make you cum. He can feel that too yet dares to ask, “Do you want me to move?” Since he asked so nicely you decide to play into his little game. Wrapping one of your arms around his nape, you pull him into a strong, yearnful kiss. He can tell. He can certainly tell how much you want him now. As you slowly feel his hands under your waist locking in, your legs start to curl around his hips The lights go dead when you pull away from the kiss to take a breather and he pushes all of him into you adjusting you in his lap. A gasp of a high note blesses Sylus’s ears followed by a trail of short quick huffs as if he ran fingers along the piano keys. Even with the lights out, when you glimpse his eyes on yours a hot wave of embarrassment washes over you. 

The lights are alive again when you bury your face in his chest. 

“Kitten, you doing good?” He asks that with the whole of him inside you despite knowing how such soul staring gaze while having sex makes you nervous. He walks into a different room in that position carrying you where two mirrors are placed opposite to each other. 

You barely peep seeing him through the mirror at first and then look into his eyes, commanding, “Fuck me as you hate me Sylus.”

A throaty chuckle escapes from his chest as he says, “Y’know I can’t do that.” As he puts you on the bathroom sink. “However, I shall not disappoint my queen.” placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

◈ XAVIER.

Xavier claims that he is not much fond of the idea of punishments in general but he has never denied yours. In fact, he has enjoyed them thoroughly till the end. He has never been the one to ask things right away and always ends up taking detours after detours observing your expressions so minutely, so intently since it sends an ample amount of electric thrill in his heart for a few seconds — the way you look away when he makes advances on you, the way you quickly lick your bottom lip before dismissing his approaches or the quickening of your breaths, the flustered look— even if it is just for a mere few seconds — it’s all worth it in the end when you just give in, doing all those innuendos, craving your walking path only to him and him alone. 

But, this time you decided to try tackling him from a different angle. You did not resist like you usually do when he slowly started to cave into you. In fact, you agreed with him right away. Both of your stress would just sublime especially if you two took a quickie break together. Ah! The look on his face— was priceless: with one of his eyebrows pitched higher than the other as a small crescent appears along his lips: he is so confused. Even if Xavier can not quite navigate your thoughts he is not backing out and you know he won’t.

As you sit on the nightstand crossing your legs, one upon the other with your heels still intact you summon him with your arm raised, all the fingers lightly curled into a fist except your index finger that moved to and fro for him, while Xavier stands at an arm's length from you. He walked towards you but stood, waiting for your next move. You loosen his tie and pull it away from his collar with a swish. He leans into you but stops midway as he feels your pointed nails digging into his chest. 

“Turn around,” you utter with a grave tone. It is so odd to see you like this that Xavier can not help but be pulled into this intimidating daze of yours. After you tie his hands at the back he turns around and then the fun begins. Xavier loses his mind for a good minute when he sees you taking his cock out of his trousers, jocking down with lips forming an unfamiliar pout, only to spit on it, stroking his length all over, coating your saliva on his cock. He groans loudly enough for you to look at him. Is he okay? With his head tipped backward you fail to gauge his expressions so you spit on your hand to use it as a lube for his cock.

Xavier tips his head forward as he feels his cock being surrounded by something, but only a part of it. There is a gap in between your cross-legged sitting posture: the gap between the end of your knee and the apex of your calf muscle with your other knee underneath. 

“You don’t mean — Xavier stammers— that I—

“Yes. I mean exactly what you’re thinking.” You exclaim with a firm tone by keeping your fingertips underneath your hand, elbow rested over your knee as you wait for his move. As he starts to move he can understand how much he has to work for himself to cum and you are just staring at him. It drives him insane, really. With his hand tied at the back, he can only do so much so you decide to help him— out of pity of course. After you unbutton his shirt one by one, you hold his hard nipple with your sharp nails and pinch it; Xavier has to fight the urge to hold himself back from latching his lips on your warm skin.

As your hands move upwards, caressing his cheeks, thumb abusing his lips. He glances before he takes your thumb into his mouth while his hips are in constant motion. “Go ahead. Get yourself off.” Yeah! He doesn’t need to be reminded of that. You watch his face contort, your thumb pressed in between his teeth making you wince as he peaks his orgasm. He pulls out his cock and the exhaustion is heavy on his muscles. 

Inserting a finger into the gap between his belt and trousers, you pull him towards yourself, whispering, “Good boy ”over his lips before kissing him. He moans while kissing and surrenders as you untie the knot of his hands which immediately clamp around your shoulder heads. Well, aren't you an angel for showing kindness to him?

“More. . . more . . . I want more. . .” Xavier mumbles taking a quick breather before diving back to one more kiss and this time he is rougher than usual. 

◈ ZAYNE.

Zayne has been teasing you for . . . ah ! You do know how long has it been since he pushed you over the pool table. His cock is still inside his pants, intact but awake. Although the only view you have is the ceiling and sometimes his face when he rubs the clit folds by running his thumb roughly over them while the rest of the finger rests against your inner thigh. He has unbuttoned your dress shirt enough to have a view of a slice of your supple skin. Every time he presses your bud, followed by a rough rub towards the apex of your cunt he sees your navel sink. It turns him on, too much for him to ignore the attention that his cock has been begging. Your palms lay flat on the green of the pool table yet every time he jocks down to have a taste of your arousal your nails dig into the corase of the table. 

As Zayne stands up again, you whimper before saying, “Stop teasing, me. just put it in already. ” The tip of his nose glistens. Does he know that? He licks his lips before responding, “But I haven’t even. . . he trails off because part of him does not wanna scare you by bringing the thought into light that how he has not taken out his cock yet. He has been touching your folds, lapping over your arousal once in a while. You can not see but only hear the lewdity now while Zayne can see that you are so wet that the moss green of the pool table has become dark green. You don’t need to know that, not now.

“Have a little trust in yourself, I know you can take it.” Zayne supplies in a tart manner but actually, he is reminding himself not to cross the thin boundaries too much otherwise he won’t be able to keep his urges at bay. He is under the influence of the same pain as you yet you are so whiny about it which only makes it harder for him to refuse you in this vulnerable needy state. He was just teasing you, flirting ever so slightly to get you comfortable and now he is in deep trenches of pleasuring you. 

But, there is pain underneath. Your body tells him that you want more but he is not sure about himself how long he can keep at it.

Fuck. He can’t. Not anymore. In a series of rough and messy movements, he has his cock out of his pants, aligning to your entrance. One glance and the moment he is inside you he can feel your cunt clench around his cock while your legs wrap around his hips. He can hear the click of your heels as he leans over you, his face in the nook of your neck, not moving but still adjusting to the feeling of your gummy walls wrapped around him but you are so impatient. He feels your wet suck of the lip over his collarbones which denotes his desire for you. As he starts to buck his hips against you, you suddenly think how the design of the ceiling is not boring anymore.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ANIMAL INSTINCT

PAIRING: logan howlett x vampire mutant!female reader

RATING: explicit | WORD COUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY:

after helping you out by letting you feed from him, logan asks you to return the favor.

part two of bloodthirsty

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

thank you for all the love on bloodthirsty! here’s a nice and smutty second part. big thank you to @guiltyasdave for reading this over for me 💕

TAGS/WARNINGS:

explicit sexual content (18+ mdni), x-men (2000) logan howlett, able bodied reader, vampire mutant!reader, no use of y/n, single POV - reader, primal play (chase/capture), gratuitous use of growling/roaring, light fighting, mentions of blood, biting, rough sex, semi-public sex (in the woods), oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, blade play (the claws come out).

Logan finds you in an empty hallway one afternoon, about two weeks after your encounter in the kitchen. You made the mistake of making eye contact, leaving you unable to turn and pretend you didn't see him like you've been doing since that night. 

"You avoiding me or something?" he says, hint of a smile on his lips. 

"No," you reply quickly. "What makes you think that?"

"Haven't seen you around much lately."

"Just busy."

"Right." He looks away for a moment, hands on his hips. "Look, I got a proposition for you."

"I don't--"

"I got this issue--," he continues, ignoring your response "--where it gets to be too much, you know? And I helped you out so--"

"What are you talking about?" you interrupt.

His voice drops a bit lower. "We're predators, right? And I don't know about you but sometimes my prey drive can be...too much, if you catch my drift."

"Okay..."

"And I got two words for you - quid pro quo."

You blink at him. "Logan, that's three words."

"I thought pro quo was one word."

"Why would you think that?"

"We're getting off topic," he says, waving his hands. “Think you can help a guy out?"

"Help you...how, exactly?"

You agree to meet Logan at the edge of the dense forest that surrounds the X Mansion at nightfall and as you walk through the grounds blanketed in darkness, your senses begin to feel more alive. Anticipation courses through you and the further you venture from the mansion, the darker the night becomes.

Logan is already there when you arrive, tension rolling off of him in waves. He gives you a tight smile.

"Took you long enough," he says. You roll your eyes.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" You gesture to the forest. "So, what now?"

"You run," Logan replies. "I hunt."

The deep timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. What he's asking for goes against your nature but some deep part of you is eager to please. 

You take off through the trees, running as fast as your legs will carry you across the soft forest floor. With your enhanced speed, it's not long before you're miles from the manicured mansion grounds, surrounded by gnarled roots and a thick canopy of leaves that blocks nearly all light from the moon.

You slow to a stop, catching your breath. The snap of a branch is the only warning you get before Logan's heavy weight barrels into you, sending you both tumbling to the ground with him coming out on top, smiling down at you, a wild glint to his eyes.

"Gotta do better than that, bub," he says. He stands up, holding a hand out to help you to your feet. "I'll give you a head start this time."

"I don't need a head start," you grumble. "I'm faster than you."

He laughs. "We'll see about that."

You start running, his laughter ringing in your ears. Your path is less direct this time, weaving through the trees and doubling back to leave your scent in more places and crossing a small creek with the hopes that the running water helps to cover your tracks. You grow comfortable enough in your lead that you begin to slow down, keeping yourself attuned to the sounds of the forest and any changes that might indicate Logan has found you.

The trees break into a vast clearing, tall grass swaying in the breeze. Moonlight trickles past the branches, stripes of faint light illuminating the floor. You take a moment to appreciate the tranquility of it, but the calm is short lived when you catch movement at the corner of your eye.

Logan steps through the trees. He's removed his shirt, thick muscle glimmering with sweat, his chest heaving with labored breath. Your mouth goes dry at the sight and for a moment you really do understand what it's like to be prey, faced with something so deadly it's almost hypnotizing, impossible to look away even when you’re in danger. He stalks closer and you feel frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.

"Found you," he growls. 

Your survival instinct kicks into gear and you attempt to run away, sprinting across the glade with renewed vigor. If you can make it back into the forest you know you could shake him loose again, but staying in the clearing makes you a clear target. 

Logan roars, the sound loud enough to shake the branches of nearby trees. You risk a glance over your shoulder and are met with the sight of the man on all fours, running towards you with single minded determination. He rapidly closes the distance with impressive speed, wrapping his arms around you and taking you down to the ground for the second time that night.

You grapple with him, landing a kick to his chest that gives you the chance to crawl out from beneath him. He reaches a hand out for your ankle and drags you back toward him, using his weight to hold you in place. You wiggle an arm free and strike at his face, though he dodges and your fingernails scrape against his neck, leaving red gashes in their wake that heal in the blink of an eye. He pins your arm to the ground above your head.

"No more runnin’,” he says, a command that shoots straight to your core. You know he’s not talking about just tonight, but rather how you’ve been avoiding him. 

But how were you supposed to face him when the only thoughts you had of him since then were about how sweet he tasted, how good he felt, how much you wanted more, more, more that you couldn’t possibly ask him to give?

Your inner turmoil is lost when his lips slam against yours in a kiss that’s hot and hungry, stealing your breath with its ferociousness. His teeth sink into your bottom lip and you gasp at the sharp sting of pain that lights up your nerves. There’s nothing gentle about it, but you’re not gentle creatures and the beasts that pace and snarl beneath your ribcage have finally broken free.

Logan breaks the kiss to stare down at you with wild eyes. Blood, your blood, stains his lips and his tongue darts out to lick it away with a satisfied hum. He leans in close, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, mouth open against your skin with the threat of sharp teeth over your racing pulse.

“Can’t hide it,” he says. “Not when I can smell it on you, sweetheart.”

“Smell what?” 

“How much you want it.” He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, making you hiss. “How much you want me.”

Heavy hands find the hem of your shirt, shoving it up your chest until it’s bunched beneath your armpits. He pulls down your bra to expose your breasts and your nipples tighten at the sudden burst of cold air against your skin but his mouth is on you in an instant, warm tongue tracing the taut buds. Your back arches at the sensation and you dig your fingers into his thick hair, pulling at the strands. He hums with pleasure as he switches to your other breast, giving it the same maddening attention.

His palm slides down your belly, fingers dipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and finding your needy center, swirling through the mess you’ve already made in your underwear. You can feel the smug grin on Logan’s face before he even lifts his head to look at you.

“That’s what I thought.” He withdraws his hand, holding it up to his face. In the moonlight you catch a glimpse of the strands of slick stretching between his index and middle finger before he sticks them in his mouth with a groan, licking them clean. “Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.”

The metallic sound of his claws unsheathing reaches your ears and your pulse jumps as he drags the blunt side of a single blade up the inside of your thigh. The tip catches on the fabric covering your pussy and with one quick move of his wrist he slices through your pants. His claw disappears and he reaches down with both hands to tear the fabric further.

Logan settles on his belly with his head between your thighs, your legs propped up on his broad shoulders. He kisses your pussy over the soaked fabric of your underwear but

spares you any further teasing, grabbing your panties in a tight fist and pulling roughly until the elastic snaps against your skin and he holds the torn fabric in his fist. He tosses them aside and buries his face in your cunt, devouring you like a man on a mission. His tongue alternates circling your sensitive clit and dipping into your dripping entrance, expertly tracing every inch of you. You’re so lost to the pleasure that you don’t notice him getting to his knees until he’s lifting your hips, hands gripping your ass tightly to keep your lower body suspended in the air and his mouth sealed to your cunt.

“Fuck!” you cry out, muscles growing tense as your orgasm builds. It hits you like a tidal wave, coursing through your veins as you shout his name like a prayer. His hold remains tight as he works you through it until you grow boneless in the aftermath.

He lowers you slowly back to the ground and you fight to catch your breath while he quickly removes his belt and shoves his jeans down enough to free his cock. You watch him take himself in hand, a brief slide of his fist over his impressive length before he runs the glistening head through your sensitive folds, bumping your clit and making you shiver.

Logan’s gaze remains fixed to yours as he presses forward, breaching your tight entrance. Your body accepts him greedily, the slight sting and stretch barely a thought when all you can focus on is how full he makes you feel.

His lips find yours for a messy kiss while he begins to thrust, a slow drag of his cock from your body followed by a sharp snap of his hips that punches the air from your lungs. You cling to his shoulders, clawing at his skin. The scent of his blood invades your senses and your teeth begin to ache at the memory of his taste. 

Your teeth catch on his lip and he hisses but doesn’t pull away. Copper blooms across your taste buds and you can’t help the desperate moan that escapes into the kiss.

“Come on, baby,” Logan says. “Take a bite.”

You rest a palm on the back of his head, urging him closer, lifting your head and kissing his neck, licking the salty taste of him from over his fluttering pulse. You open your mouth, sinking your teeth into skin and muscle and vein until warm blood spills into your mouth. The combination of his blood on your tongue and his cock spreading you open sends you over the edge.

Above you, Logan growls, a deep rumble you can feel down to your marrow, some ancient part of you preening with excitement. He holds himself still as you clench around him. Your orgasm slowly subsides and you find the strength to unclench your tense jaw from his neck, gently licking at the blood that spills from the deep impressions of your teeth.

Logan sits up, cock slipping from your body and leaving you achingly empty. His hands grip your hips, forcefully turning your lax body over and hiking your ass into the air. He spreads your cheeks and the vulnerable position has your whole body growing hot.

“Hope you didn’t think we were done,” he tells you as he positions himself behind you, thrusting his length back into your body and setting a brutal pace that has you crying out into the night. 

One hand holds your hip with bruising force while the other settles on your shoulder, pulling you into every delicious snap of his hips. Your mind goes blissfully blank with the overwhelming pleasure building up inside of you for the third time.

He folds forward, his chest pressed to your back and his pace growing sloppy as he nears his own release. A hand curls around yours, a moment of intimacy that leaves you reeling.

Logan roars, hips slamming into a final time, dragging your last orgasm from you as his cock pulses with his release inside of you. A sharp pain on your hip makes you gasp and you notice his claws have extended from the hand wrapped around yours, sinking into the dirt.

“Shit,” he pants, sitting up after a moment. The loss of his heat makes you shiver. “I nicked you.”

You slowly move yourself into a seated position, muscles feeling like jelly, and inspect the area that the pain came from. Your leggings have a new slice in the fabric and the material is sticky with blood but to your surprise, there’s no wound to be found.

“You heal that quick?” Logan asks. You shake your head.

“Not usually.” You run your fingers over smooth skin. “Must have been your blood.”

“You think so?”

You shrug. “Just a guess. Never fed from someone with advanced healing factor.”

“You sayin’ I’m your first?” he asks with a smirk. You can’t help the laugh that escapes and his smirk stretches into a grin. Logan stands, fixing his pants and holding a hand out to help you up. 

“How am I supposed to get back into the mansion like this?” you ask, gesturing to your destroyed leggings. 

“Guess I didn’t think that through,” he admits. “Give me a few minutes and I can be back with some new clothes.”

“How are you going to get into my room?”

He turns to look at you, continuing to walk backwards.

“I’m a man of many talents.”

With a wink, he disappears through the trees. You sigh.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Thank you for reading!

LINKS

all masterlists | logan howlett masterlist | support for palestine

[whisperofwonder]

Comfortable

Uncomfortable domestic moments when you realize just how comfortable you are together, and how much he really cares about you

I just really love domesticity, okay? Even when it isn't pretty.

Featuring: Kuroo Tetsurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Miya Atsumu x reader

(a few potential triggers here, sorry!) TW: vomit / vomiting in Kuroo's ; blood/period in Ushijima's, then you'll have Atsumu's which is really just light and kind of goofy oops

KUROO TETSUROU

"Ugh," You moan as you reach to flush the toilet. You get to your feet and turn to find Tetsurou still hovering behind you. You grimace thinking about how he'd held your hair back just moments ago, as you released the entire contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl.

He hands you a cup of water. "How are you feeling?" He asks as you rinse out your mouth - it's a silly question, all things considered, but you don't exactly have a snarky answer at hand.

"I'm sorry," You blurt instead, not quite sure how he can be looking at you with that almost tender expression on his face after witnessing that.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asks softly, reaching to unstick a sweaty strand of hair from your face.

"Because, it's so gross. You didn't have to come in here," You insist. "I'm an adult, and - you really shouldn't have to see that." You purposefully avoid glancing in the mirror. You don't even want to know what you must look like right now.

"But I don't want you to feel gross alone," He says as if it's simple. You open your mouth, searching for some kind of retort, but nothing comes. "I know you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn't have to," He continues. "Not when I'm right here."

It's so surprisingly sweet that you feel your face start to crumple. "Tetsu," You squeak out.

"Shh," He shushes you, "Just tell me what I can do. Do you need anything?"

"I just want to go back to bed," You admit, reaching out to grab the edge of the sink as you feel yourself begin to waver.

"Okay then," He says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he scoops you up in his arms, slowly carrying you back to the bedroom and setting you gently on top of your pillows. "Try to get some rest," He murmurs, pulling the blankets up over you. "I love you," He adds, brushing the hair away from your face.

"I love you too," You murmur back, leaning into his touch and the comfort of the knowledge that he'll always be right here.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

Your alarm feels even earlier than usual, and after confirming that it is indeed time to get up, you turn it off with a groan. You're feeling particularly at odds with the world already today, and part of you just wants to pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep. Instead, you slither out of bed, standing next to it as you check the e-mail notification that had popped up overnight.

"Oh," At the sound of his voice, you turn to look at Wakatoshi. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, and he's looking at you with a slight frown on his face. "My love..." He gestures down at your side of the bed, and to your horror, you see a streak of red on the otherwise pristine sheets.

Suddenly, the way you're feeling is making a lot more sense. "Oh no," You drop your face in your hands, muffling your words. "That's absolutely disgusting. I'm so sorry." You don't even want to look at him, but at the sound of rustling sheets, you finally drop your hands. Your boyfriend is methodically stripping the bed.

"Why don't you get in the shower? I'll start washing these." He says matter-of-factly. There must be something in your expression, because you see his face soften. "It's alright. It's natural," He assures you.

"But-" You can't put into words how mortified you are. Natural or not, he shouldn't have to see it, much less clean it up. "At least let me do that," You insist finally, reaching for the pile of bedding.

"No," He twists away so that it's out of your reach, "I've got it. Just get in the shower, okay?"

"You shouldn't have to, though," You say more softly.

"I don't have to," He agrees. "I want to help you. Can I do that?"

You bite your lower lip, trying not to let your hormonally-charged emotions win this battle. "Okay," You say finally.

"Okay," He echoes you, dropping the sheets into the laundry basket before crossing the room back to you, gently taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'll make you some tea to have with breakfast," He adds after he pulls away. "Will that help?"

"Yes," You whisper, the I-love-you hidden in his words practically echoing in your head. You can't resist pulling him back in for one more kiss, hoping he feels the I-love-you-too that you press into it.

MIYA ATSUMU

"Atsumu!" You knock on the bathroom door, "Are you soon done?" It's moments like these when you really regret that this apartment has only one bathroom.

"Just got in!" He shouts back above the sound of the running shower. You bite back a sigh. He's famous for his long, hot showers.

"I really have to go!" You call back. "Can't you make it quick?" You're on the verge of pacing back down the hallway, just to help you hold it in.

"The door isn't locked! Can't ya just come in and go?" You freeze. It might be silly, but it's an unspoken milestone that you haven't crossed yet - peeing in front of each other.

"But!" You groan.

"But what? Ya've seen me naked before," You can practically hear his smirk.

"Tsumu," You whine, but in a matter of moments, you open the door anyway. It's gotten to the point where you don't have much choice. With only a moment's hesitation, you put up the toilet lid.

"How was yer day?" Atsumu begins conversationally.

"We're not doing this," You say quickly. "I'm going, and then I'm leaving the bathroom."

You hear him sigh. "Want me to get out and pee too, so we're even?" He asks, completely serious.

"No!" You say quickly. "I'm leaving now." Before he can say anything else, you're closing the door behind you.

About 10 minutes later, Atsumu finds you in the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist as drips of water slip from his hair. "Guess we're a real couple now," He grins, leaning in and pressing a damp kiss to your lips.

"We weren't before?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow.

"'Parently not. Didn't know it was such a big deal," He says with a smug grin. "How will I ever look at you the same again?"

"Hey!" You swat his bare shoulder indignantly. "It was your idea." You remind him.

"Guess so," He hums. "Know what? I think I still love ya just as much." His smile is softer somehow, despite the teasing glint in his eyes.

"Oh?" You ask, struggling to maintain your haughty expression.

"Yeah," He nods. "Looks like you're stuck with me." He leans in for a longer kiss, almost making you forget about the small puddle that's begun to form on the floor.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I absolutely love your stories they’re so amazing! Can I please request the task force and pranking them by telling them a guy did your Brazilian wax

Thank you! I can't take all the credit. I might be the writer, but the Imagines Series couldn't be what it is without all the amazing ideas people have submitted. I'm honestly blown away by the amount of creativity and ideas sent my way. My inbox is full of wonderful requests, and while it's going to take me a bit to get to them all, I'm eager to complete them!

The amount of prank requests I've been getting has been so fun. Not just this one, but telling mom to shut up, and the premium air prank, etc. All of these make me giggle and have been a blast to work on. Thank you so much for sending this in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, established relationship, pranks, non-descriptive nudity

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John briefly licks the pad of his thumb before counting out the appropriate amount of pound notes.

“This enough?” he asks, presenting it to you.

It’s more than enough. “Plenty. Thank you, John.”

He leans forward a bit, and you eagerly greet him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Drawing back, you give him your best smile. But beneath the grin is a trick.

You want to mess with him a bit.

“I have a new waxer,” you shrug, adding the cash to your wallet. “Cheryl put in her notice.”

Cheryl did not put in her notice. That woman probably won’t retire until she dies.

John inclines his head, already turning away. “That’s too bad. You liked her.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing your purse. “They’ve put me with someone new. A Mark? Mike? No—Marcus? I think.”

John freezes. He slowly turns back, cheeks bright red. “What?”

“It starts with an ‘m’,” you muse.

“Your new waxer is a man?”

“Yes,” you shrug. “And?” John’s face resembles a beet. “Everything good?”

“Where does Cherly work now?”

“John—”

He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts tapping away at it. "I want to know if she accepts walk-ins."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle's hand slowly runs over your newly waxed skin. "Look at you. So soft and smooth." His touch makes you shiver.

"You paid for it," you murmur.

"I did," smiles Kyle, head dipping.

His tongue makes contact, and you release a moan. It’s slightly distracting, but not enough to detract from you poking at him.

“Had a new waxer,” you sigh as Kyle goes in for another taste.

“Did you?” he asks absently, more interested in your new smoothness.

“A man, actually. Undergoing training. There were two of them in the room.”

Kyle's head snaps up. "What?"

"Why'd you stop?" you whimper.

"There were two men that waxed you?"

“No, Kyle. Just one.”

A series of emotions pass over Kyle's face. His mouth opens. Closes. And then his hand forms a fist, fingers flexing and relaxing as he mulls over something.

"Everything okay?" you ask, suddenly worried.

“Can’t be that hard.” Kyle pushes away from the couch and reaches for his phone. “Or expensive.”

“What can’t? Kyle. What are you talking about?”

You lean forward and see him adding a waxing kit to his online shopping cart.

“No,” you say firmly. “You’re not putting hot wax anywhere near my vagina.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Oh, what's this?"

Johnny's hands are on your thighs and then beneath your skirt in a moment.

"Johnny!"

"Is this for me? You don't have to. You know I like a good adventure through the woods."

"Johnny!" you say again, slapping his arm playfully as his fingers lightly squeeze, making your squirm in his grasp.

"Was this on my dime?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"Oh, aye. Am I gonna find an unknown charge?"

"With a tip. A large tip. My waxer deserved it. He did a good job."

"Oh, they—he?"

"Yes. That a problem?"

Johnny's hands don't retreat but he's staring at you—hard. You arch an eyebrow and he finally speaks. "Your waxer is a man?"

No.

"Yes."

Johnny nods and then he leans in, lowering his voice. “You’re taking the piss.”

“I’m—”

“I saw your location. I checked it out. They don’t have a single male employee in that place.”

Your face grows hot.

Johnny’s hands squeeze a bit harder, and then he lands a brief smack against the curve of your ass. “Lying to me, love?” Johnny tsks. He palms the curve of your ass where it stings. “Suppose I should punish you.”

“Maybe you should.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You reject the call and clutch your phone to your chest. You've messed up. Royally. Pranking Simon is always a terrible idea.

The texts were just a tease. Just a way to push Simon’s buttons.

I have a new waxer.

I thought it would be one of the other ladies.

But no!

It was a guy!

Your phone buzzes again and you nearly throw it across the room. It’s Simon. You decline the call. Everything is quiet for a few brief seconds before a text message from him comes through.

Answer your phone.

You click out a reply.

I'm in the car!

His reply comes instantly.

You're at home. I know your location.

Another incoming call. This one you answer.

"Simon,” you say flatly.

"What location did you go to?" he asks, voice rough with tension.

"Why?" you counter.

"What's his name?" he snaps.

"I know what you're doing, Simon.”

You always forget just how deep his possessive streak goes.

Silence. Then, "I just want to talk."

"Simon.”

He growls your name in warning.

"You don't need to go there. Just...come home. You can see the results for yourself."

He sighs. "I'll be there in ten. Be ready for me."

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[ohtobeleah]

Something that goes without saying is how uncertain Logan really is about sleeping in the same space as another person. Sure, he'll commit to the fun beforehand….The foreplay, the sex, the highs.

But the inevitable act of sleeping beside someone, terrifies him.

We see it in Origin, we see it in Days of Future Past. Sometimes while Logan is sleeping, his claws come out when he feels under duress. Nightmares are a common occurrence for this man, not a night goes by where he isn't waking in the dead of night to the ghost of his past.

And I'd like to think of all the Logans running around the multiverse, that the Worst!Logan has surely been through some things. He's never experienced true rest. Not until he met you.

“I'll sleep on the couch.” Its common at the beginning of whatever the dynamic between the two of you is. Logan ends up back at your cafe, or in your living-room, bathroom, kitchen or bed—but he never stays beside you for longer than a few minutes after. Not because he doesn't crave that intimacy or true human connection, but because the idea of losing you to his own mutation truly scares the ever-living fuck out of him.

But one night, you catch him off-guard. So off guard that Logan doesn't even have a counter proposal ready.

“Ill join you,” You beam, padding down the hallway with your blanket and pillow wrapped in your arms. “Somethings bothing you and with friends like me and Wade, that shits gonna come up eventually,” You ramble. As you sit beside Logan on the lounge he slept on more often than his own bed, he catches a glimpse of a few noticeable scars on your back. Scars where his claws had once accidentally taken over in an otherwise romantic moment between the two of you. “So, get talking pops.”

“Don't call me pops.” Logan sighs as he opens his body up for you to snuggle up against him. “It's nothing I can't handle, didn't anyone ever tell you not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?”

“Are you trying to tell me that I don't belong here?” You counter quickly, playing Logan’s logic against himself. “Me? Resident of this timeline? Doesn't belong right here next to you?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Logan smiles all the while trying to keep his brooding man mask on. But with you he feels ever atom of his being igniting with desire and unconditional love. “I worry I'll hurt you, while I'm sleeping,” Logan explains as you listen to his heartbeat inside his chest. Snuggled on the lounge in your apartment. “You don't know how much that thought terrifies me.”

“Hmm,” You hum in response. “Perhaps the question you should be asking yourself Lo, is what if the nightmares, what if the fear stops, when you allow yourself to rest with someone you love?” It was a bold word to use, and even though it was rarely, if ever used, there wasn't another word in the English language to describe how Logan felt about you. Or how you felt about him.

And its a thought that's never crossed Logans mind before. He frowns, thinking it over in the late-night silence. You fall asleep there, right with your head on Logans chest as he tru thinks.

Only to wake up in a tangled mess of sheets, with Logan snorning next to you as the early morning sun kisses his golden, aging skin. Its the first night in years he hasn't woken in screaming terror.

“Tell me told you so and I'll turn you into a skewer.” Logan mumbles as you pepper him with kisses across his exposed back.

“I think I'll take my chances with you, Lo,” You chuckle to yourself. “I'll make you some coffee.”

@a-reader-and-a-writer Canon Ilya universe content

Ilya

[monzabee]

the alchemy - cs55

masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where not Carlos, nor you, have the power to fight the alchemy. 

Pairing: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader 

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: absolute fluff (been a while), possible ovary explosion bc of dad!carlos, cursing (because i use way too many f-bombs in real life too), kids (apparently, it’s a tw for some people), i tried hating charles but it’s not happenning so a cheater redemption arc (kinda, he's trying okay??)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, thank you all so much for the love you showed for part one, i really appreciate it and i'm sorry that this part has been a little delayed, but i just wanted it to be just as drama-filled as the first part whilst still being a bit lighter so i hope i found the right balance for it. while we love dad!carlos, i felt like charles still deserved a chance to redeem himself and come to his senses so we love that redemption arc for him (well, kinda guess?). also, i know we have one more part of this little mini-series to go, a social media au (yay!), but i just wanted to let you all know, once again, that i do not have a taglist, and no i will not be making one!! however, i do appreciate all your support and comments, and please do let me know what you think about this part! thanks to @percervall once again, who had to listen me talk about this part for many many hours and who was kind enough to help me proofread!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It only happened once every few lifetimes. 

You honestly did not expect to end up with one of your closest friends – especially not after you told your cheating husband that you were getting a divorce, after he chose his lover over you and your baby; and most definitely not after the said close friend told you that he would step up instead of your cheat of a husband.  

But there you are, in the arms of non-other than Carlos Sainz, your boyfriend, having just woken up by the excited pitter patter of feet right outside your bedroom door. “Carlos,” you whisper, nudging him softly to wake him up, “Carlos, wake up.” You watch as he stirs, and then buries his head onto his pillow mumbling all the reasons why he doesn’t want to be awake, but you just chuckle softly as you poke him again. “Carlos, please.” 

With a disgruntled grunt, you watch as his eyes open, and with a scratchy voice he whines, “What, amor, I was sleeping.” 

Rolling your eyes, you point to the bedroom door, “Listen,” you tell him, and watch as his eyes widen as realisation sets in at the same time his expression turns into a smiling one. “I think someone is excited for today.”  

“You think?” He retorts, snorting lightly as he pulls you closer, “That’s all he’s been able to talk about for weeks, amor.”  

“Well, can you blame him?” You nudge him, ignoring the sound of scraping of your son’s step stool outside your door. “He just wants to watch his father win.” Watching the smile on your boyfriend’s face grows as the door handle is jiggling, you point to the pillows with your head, “Let’s just pretend we’re asleep, he’ll be happier that way.”  

With a deep sigh, the happy kind, he pulls you closer to himself – at the right time too, as you hear the patter of footsteps getting closer. With a tug at the comforter, you hear, “Papa, wake up.” You can hear Carlos, badly, muffling a chuckle by burying his head deeper into your neck, but the little voice beside him is non-relenting. “Papa! You promised me we’d go to the race today!”  

“Carlos,” you whisper covertly, “you’re going to make him cry.”  

Giving you a look that silently says, No I won’t, he turns towards the little intruder in your bedroom, quickly gathering him in his arms as he puts him on the bed next to you. The sound of laughter coming from two of the most important men in your life bring a sleepy smile to your face as you watch Carlos tickle your son despites his protests for him to stop.  

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims, climbing over Carlos to reach you, “Tell Papa to stop! We need to get ready!” His face is flushed with excitement and laughter, a sight that fills your heart with warmth. 

“Alright, alright,” you say, giggling as you pull him into a hug, “let’s get ready then. You don’t want to be late for your big day, do you?” 

Carlos finally stops his playful assault, sitting up and stretching with a groan. “She’s right, buddy. We should all get up and get going. Lots to do before the race, you still remember our plan for breakfast?” Your son’s eyes light up even more, if that were possible, and he scrambles off the bed, running back to his room to get dressed. You and Carlos exchange a glance, something you seem to do more now than ever.  

You wait until Rafael is out of the hearing distance before you tilt your head sideways and narrow your eyes in question, “What plan are you talking about?” 

“Nothing for you,” he boops your nose with his pointer finger as he straightens up and gets out of the bed, “to worry your pretty little head about. Just come to the kitchen when you’re ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but willing to play along. “So, you think I’m pretty?” you ask, batting your eyes at him exaggeratedly as he gently shoves you back into the bed. Getting up and stretching, which you shamelessly take the opportunity to ogle him, you watch him with a smile as he heads towards the kitchen following your son. Getting ready consists of brushing your teeth and hastily throwing on a robe for you, too anxious to see what you son and husband cooking up in the kitchen – literally.  

The scene in the kitchen is enough to melt your heart on its own – Rafael is standing on his trusty step stool at the counter, his little hands busy arranging an assortment of fruits on a plate. The concentration on his face is evident by the way his tongue peeks out slightly in that adorable way he does when he’s focused, a habit that he picked up from his father. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is busy with flipping something in a pan, shirtless might you add.  

“Oh my God, look at my boys!” You croon, leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin. “You even have matching hats and everything!” 

“Boys?” Carlos scoffs, turning to Rafael and pointing his finger towards you, “Can you believe her?” He then turns to you as he places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. “We are not boys, amor, we are men.” 

You chuckle at his exaggerated display of masculinity, shaking your head as you walk further into the kitchen. “Oh, of course, how could I forget? The two manliest men I know,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. 

Rafael, picking up on the banter, puffs out his little chest just like his father, mimicking his stance. “Yeah, Mommy! We're strong, right, Papa?” 

Carlos grins, his eyes twinkling as he looks at Rafael. “That’s right, we’re the strongest men in the world." He turns back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And we make the best breakfast too. Isn’t that right, Raf?” 

“Yes!” Rafael exclaims, beaming with pride as he holds up the plate of perfectly arranged fruit. “Look what I made, Mommy!” 

You lean down to inspect his handiwork, smiling softly. “Wow, this looks incredible, sweetheart. You’re so talented!” You give him a big kiss on the cheek, making him giggle. 

Carlos steps closer, holding out a fork with a piece of pancake speared on it. “And how about a taste test, amor?” His voice is softer now, the playful tone giving way to something more tender. 

You take the fork from him, taking a bite of the pancake. The fluffiness and warmth of it fill your senses, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. “This is amazing, Carlos. You’ve outdone yourself.” 

He watches you with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Only the best for you.” 

Rafael, not wanting to be left out, grabs a piece of fruit and holds it up to you. “Try mine too, Mommy!” 

You take the fruit from him, savouring the sweetness as you chew. “Delicious! You’re both going to spoil me with all this great food.” 

Carlos chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. “That’s the plan,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shiver slightly. “I can also spoil you in the other way you like,” his voice drops enough for only you to hear.  

You glance up at him, meeting his playful yet heated gaze, and feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Carlos,” you murmur, half-warning, half-inviting, as Rafael happily oblivious to the exchange, chatters away about his breakfast creation. “I would like to still be able to walk by the time we get to the paddock.” 

But Carlos just smirks, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “Later, amor,” he promises, his voice thick with affection and mischief. 

Before you can respond, Rafael tugs at your robe, breaking the spell. “Mommy! Let’s eat now!” His voice is filled with the kind of innocent excitement that only a child can muster, and it instantly brings you back in the present moment. 

You smile down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Carlos gives you one last knowing glance before stepping back to grab the plates. As the three of you settle down at the table, you try to ignore his lingering gaze that makes your heart race just a bit faster, though you’re not exactly that successful. 

It would be safe to say that it had been a crazy few years for Carlos Sainz. Or at least, that’s what Charles would say – if, you know, anybody was to ask him his opinion. First, he had lost his seat at Ferrari, and Charles really felt for him at first; after all, he was his teammate. But he was also the man who ended his marriage, so his feelings for Carlos changed for the worse very quickly. The whole situation had him coming to some revelations.  

First revelation he came to was the fact that he was wrong for cheating on his wife, however complicated the situation might be. He had tried to justify it to himself, blaming the stress and the strain, but deep down, he knew there was no excuse for what he’d done. 

Second revelation was that you deserved to be happy, with or without him – he was just being petty because it was with his old teammate. You deserved to be happy, and while Charles could admit that in theory, accepting that your happiness was now tied to Carlos was a bitter pill to swallow. 

Third, and probably the biggest, revelation was that he had royally screwed up when he chose the other woman over you and your son, and it was a loss that he mourned every single day. If he thought seeing Carlos thrive after his own life was crumbling down was hurting his ego, seeing Carlos be the father to his son, was a thousand times worse.  

Life took an interesting turn for Carlos after that night at the hotel in Monte Carlo. You had no expectations for him, you didn’t expect him to stay true to his words and be there for you and your baby. But that was the thing, because he kept his promise. He was at your door the next morning with a short list of apartments and penthouses in Monte Carlo. Anticipating your need of getting out of the country, he was prepared – he also looked at apartments in New York, houses in LA and townhouses in London (the few apartments he chose in Madrid also didn’t escape you, but it was a conversation you weren’t ready to have yet). So, when you were having, yet another breakdown in front of him, he just stood next to you and held you until you calmed down. He was always next to you, somehow managing his schedule for the racing season and coming out to see you between races. He kept true to his promise as he made waffles for you at midnight, grumbling about how pancakes were superior, and he held your hand when you were in the delivery room even though you were probably close to breaking the poor man’s hand. The bigger shock came when he announced that he would not be racing for the next season – something he had conveniently not told you in the months leading up to your pregnancy. It also led up to your first fight, and your first real confrontation since this unexpected journey began. The news that Carlos wouldn’t be racing the next season blindsided you. It wasn’t just the fact that he had made such a monumental decision without consulting you; it was the realisation that he had chosen you and your child over the sport he loved so deeply. 

“What do you mean you’re not racing next season?” you had asked, your voice edged with disbelief. You were standing in the kitchen of the new apartment he had helped you find, your baby—your son—napping peacefully in the next room. Carlos was casually leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as if he had just announced something as mundane as what was for dinner. 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you had come to recognize as a sign that he was about to say something serious. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said, his voice calm, and God it drove you insane how calm and rational he was being with a decision so irrational to you. “And after everything that’s happened... I just think it’s the right decision for now.” 

“But racing is your life,” you insisted, the weight of his words settling in. “I don’t understand how you can just walk away from it.” 

Carlos met your gaze, his brown eyes steady and full of determination. “It’s not about walking away,” he explained. “It’s about priorities. You and Rafael... you’re my priority now. I want to be here for you both, not halfway across the world, missing out on everything.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. For so long, you had been used to being let down, to promises that were made and then broken. But here was Carlos, standing in front of you, willing to give up something he loved more than anything for you and your son. 

“That’s not fair to you,” you whispered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams.” 

Carlos stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “You’re not taking anything away from me,” he assured you. “You’re giving me something I didn’t even know I needed. I’m choosing this, because I want to. I want to be here for you, to be the father Rafael deserves. I want us to be a family.” 

His words broke through the wall you had been holding up, and you let the tears fall. It wasn’t just about the sacrifice he was making; it was about the fact that he was doing it willingly, without hesitation, because he wanted to be with you and Rafael. It was a love that was deeper than anything you had ever known, and it terrified you as much as it filled you with hope. 

“But what if you regret it?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. 

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “I know what I want. And if I ever go back to racing, it’ll be when we’re ready. When we both decide it’s the right time. But for now, this is where I need to be.” 

You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was as serious as ever, and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about him making a choice— it was about him choosing you, over and over again, in a way no one ever had before. 

The argument you had anticipated fizzled out before it could even begin. There was nothing left to fight about, not when he had laid his heart bare for you. All you could do was fall into his arms, holding onto him tightly as you let the weight of his decision sink in. It was overwhelming, knowing that someone loved you that much, that they would uproot their entire world just to be by your side. 

So, yeah, Carlos Sainz had not raced for the 2025 season. If it were up to him, he would stay with the two of you for the 2026 season as well, but you and Carlos Sainz Sr managed to convince him to get back to the real world, no matter how much he was enjoying being a stay-at-home dad. But the biggest shock for the world, and Charles, wasn’t that Carlos was returning to the F1 grid – no, the biggest shock was that he was returning to the F1 grid in one of the most coveted seats; right next to Max Verstappen. The reaction to the news had been mixed. Some were thrilled to see him back, eager to see what he could do in a car as competitive as the Red Bull. Others were skeptical, wondering if a year away from the sport had dulled his edge. For Charles, the news was a bitter pill to swallow. Carlos wasn’t just returning to the grid—he was stepping into one of the most sought-after seats in F1. But more than that, it was the reminder that Carlos had taken something else from him, something far more personal and painful. Watching Carlos step into his new role at Red Bull, knowing that he was now part of your life and Rafael’s life in a way Charles never could be, was a constant, aching reminder of everything he had lost. 

And so began the Leclerc-Sainz rivalry – which although sounds riveting, is probably the reason why you had to visit your cardiologist more times than necessary within the last couple of years. On the surface, it was the perfect storyline: two former teammates, now on opposing sides, battling it out on the track in some of the most intense and thrilling races the sport had ever seen. But for you, it was far from entertainment. Each race weekend became a new source of anxiety, and Carlos knew how much it affected you, so he tried his best to keep the rivalry on the track. He would reassure you, telling you that whatever happened during the race, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you or Rafael. But even he couldn’t deny that the tension between him and Charles was personal. It was more than just racing—it was about proving something, not just to the world, but to themselves and each other. And so, race after race, you found yourself on an emotional rollercoaster. The thrill of seeing Carlos perform at his best was always accompanied by the fear of what might happen if things went wrong. The rivalry wasn’t just a storyline for the media—it was a real, living thing that had a profound impact on your life. 

So, when Rafael told you that he wanted to watch his father race live, you were hesitant to agree. The thought of bringing your son into that world—where emotions ran high, and the stakes were even higher—filled you with dread. The last thing you wanted was for Rafael to witness the intensity of the rivalry that had consumed not just Carlos and Charles, but your entire life. 

Carlos, however, was adamant. He knew how much it meant to Rafael to see him race, to be a part of something that had been such a significant part of Carlos’s life before Rafael was born. “He needs to see it,” Carlos told you one evening as you sat together, discussing Rafael’s request. “He needs to know what I do, why it’s important to me, and why I went back to racing in the first place.”  

You couldn’t deny that Carlos had a point. Rafael idolized his father and seeing him in action would only strengthen the bond between them. But the idea of watching the race unfold, of seeing Carlos and Charles go head-to-head while your son was there, was almost too much to bear. The days leading up to the race were a blur of preparation and anxiety. Carlos did his best to reassure you, but the tension was palpable. He understood your fears and promised to keep things professional, but you both knew that once the lights went out, everything would be on the line. So, you weren’t exactly surprised that your boyfriend spent the entire morning buttering you up and getting you to relax as much as possible about the day ahead of you.  

And to be perfectly fair, he was right for the most part. It had been fine from the moment you made it into the paddock, which somehow worked wonders on your anxiety. As you made your way to the circuit, Rafael’s excitement was infectious. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his little face pressed against the window as he took in the sights. You couldn’t help but smile, his joy momentarily easing the knot of anxiety that had been tightening in your chest since the moment you agreed to come to the paddock in the first place.  

Seeing him so happy and in his element, you know instantly that the paddock, no matter in which country, is going to become his safe place. Rafael keeps asking Carlos questions about everything from how they manage to keep the cars so clean to what would happen if they didn’t wear helmets. And Carlos is patient as he answers all his questions, no matter how childish or obvious they might seem. So, when he told Rafael that maybe, just maybe, he might end up in one of the cars he admires so much one day, you know your son won’t miss the beat. “Can I?” He asks you, eyes widened with a pleading look as he clasps his hands together under his chin, “Please, Mommy, I promise I’ll be very careful.”  

“Absolutely not,” you shake your head, mind immediately starting to think about all the things that could go wrong, “it’s so dangerous! Just think about how afraid you’d be of the speed.”  

Rafael scoffs, arms crossed on his chest as he pleads through the pout he has on his face, “I’m not afraid of the speed! Papa, tell her I’m not afraid of the speed!” 

Carlos reaches over Rafael’s head as he takes off his cap and ruffles his hair, which manages to get a series of giggles from the little boy, and he affirms, “You are not afraid of the speed, but your mother is right.” You have to hold in your laughter when you see the indignant look on Rafael’s face, but Carlos continues talking as he signals for his son to listen, “We can talk about it when you are older, but for right now you are my lead strategist, capisce?” 

Rafael steers his pout towards you, and you shrug innocently in response, which gets a resigning sigh from him. “That’s fine, I guess.” He mumbles, and points to the garage door behind the table the three of you are sitting, “Can I look at your car again?” 

“Be careful, and make sure you tell Caco where you are.” Carlos reminds him, as Rafael excitedly scurries off toward the garage, leaving you and Carlos to share a quiet moment. 

Carlos leaned back in his chair, a content smile playing on his lips as he watched Rafael dart off. “He’s got the bug,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your head playfully. “I know. He’s already got the attitude. I don’t think I’m ready for him to jump in a kart and never look back.” 

Carlos reaches for your hand, his touch grounding you. “We’ll keep him safe,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll make sure he’s ready, and we’ll protect him from the worst of it.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, trusting him like you always have. As you sit together, watching Rafael’s excitement fill the garage, the sweet moment is interrupted by a voice both of you know very well. “Seriously? You’re using him to get to me on a race day now?”  

Your fingers nearly crush your poor boyfriend’s hand as you look at the intruder, your heart immediately racing. You turn to see Charles standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. His eyes flicker from Carlos to you, then toward the garage where Rafael had just run off. “Excuse me?” You manage to get out, your voice sharp with surprise. The audacity of his accusation stings more than you expected. Charles' gaze hardens as he steps closer, clearly not backing down. 

“You heard me,” Charles says, his tone edged with bitterness. “Bringing Rafael here, right in the middle of everything... it’s not a coincidence. You’re just trying to—” 

“To what?” Carlos cuts in, his voice calm but firm. His protective instincts kick in as he stands, placing himself between you and Charles. “To have a good day with our son? To let him enjoy the race?” 

Charles scoffs, shaking his head. “He’s not your son, he’s mine. Stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re his father just because you’re here.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, everything goes silent. Carlos' expression tightens, but he doesn’t move, his body still a shield between you and Charles. You feel your breath catch in your throat, the weight of Charles’ words hanging heavy in the air. “I know who his father is, Charles,” Carlos says, his voice calm but steely. “And considering the fact that he doesn’t even know you exist, I’d say me being here is more than proof that I am his father.” 

Charles' jaw clenches, and his eyes flicker with something raw—pain, jealousy, frustration, all mixed together. “You think you can just step in and take my place? Be the dad, play happy family with my son?” 

“Cabrón,” Carlos warns, and though you’ve heard him use that nickname for his friends countless of times, this voice is devoid of all affection, “you lost all right to call yourself Rafael’s father when you decided to choose whatever flavour of the month you were with at the time.” You feel your heart race, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of the moment and the murderous look on Carlos’ face. Carlos steps forward, his voice low but terse. “You think being a father is about biology? About showing up when it’s convenient for you? Rafael doesn’t even know who you are because you’ve never been there for him. I have. I’ve been the one tucking him in, I've been there when he was sick and crying, and I’m the one showing him love every single day.”  

Charles flinches, the sting of the truth evident in his expression. For a moment, the fire in his eyes dims, replaced by something else— regret, perhaps. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he straightens his posture, trying to regain control of the situation. “I made mistakes,” Charles says, his voice quiet but defiant. “But you can’t just erase me from his life. He has a right to know who his real father is.” 

Carlos’ gaze doesn’t waver, his protective instincts blazing. “Rafael knows who his real father is. He may not understand all the details yet, but he knows who’s been there for him. And when the time comes, when he’s ready, we’ll tell him the truth. But that decision isn’t yours to make anymore, Charles. You gave up that right a long time ago.” 

“You’re just going to sit there and let him talk to me like this?” Charles hisses, turning towards you in an attempt to find sympathy. His eyes are pleading, but there’s anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Your chest tightens as you meet his gaze, feeling the weight of everything that has been left unsaid between the three of you for so long. You take a deep breath, your voice soft but firm when you finally respond. “It’s time to let go, Charles.” Charles' face falls at your words, the weight of their finality hitting him hard. His lips part slightly as if he wants to argue, but no words come. The tension in the air is suffocating, each second stretching out painfully. Carlos remains silent, standing tall beside you, his hand subtly resting on your back for support. He knows this conversation is yours to finish. “It’s not about erasing you from Rafael’s life,” you continue, your voice steady though your heart is pounding in your chest. “It’s about doing what’s best for him. And right now, that means protecting him from the confusion and hurt that the fact that you were too much of a coward to choose him.” 

Charles takes a step back, the anger in his expression dimming into something more fragile. His eyes search yours, perhaps looking for a trace of the bond you once shared, but it’s clear that things have changed too much. Too much time has passed. “I’m not trying to hurt him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I apologised countless of times, what more do you want from me? I am sorry, okay?” 

“Are you quite done?” Charles flinches at your sharp tone, the weight of your words settling heavily between the three of you. His gaze drops to the ground as if he’s searching for something to say, but nothing comes. Carlos stands steady beside you, his presence strong, comforting, even. “I am sorry, too, about it all.”  

You can feel Carlos’ confused stare on you, and Charles looks at you with the same expression as he asks, “You... do?” 

“I’m sorry that you were cheating on me from the start, I’m sorry you were too weak to stay faithful to me after we got married,” you continue, the words heavy but resolute as they fall from your lips. Charles' expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and pain crossing his face. Carlos’ hand tightens slightly on your back, offering silent support as you finally lay bare what you’ve held inside for so long. “I’m sorry I ignored it for as long as I did, and I’m sorry that I ever found out.” Charles’ face hardens, his eyes clouded with guilt and perhaps a hint of defensiveness as your words hit him. The weight of what you're saying seems to pull him down, and he takes a deep breath as if trying to absorb the impact. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, not willing to let this moment slip away before you say everything that’s been weighing on your heart. “I’m sorry I ever found out about the lies, but most of all, I’m sorry for Rafael. He deserved better, he deserved a father who was present and loved him without conditions,” you say, your eyes locking with Charles’. “You weren’t there, Charles, you weren’t there before Rafael, and you weren’t going to be there after him. So, I suppose what I’m not sorry for is falling in love with a man who was courageous enough to fill that role for both me and him.” Charles’ lips part as if to argue, but no words form. His eyes betray the guilt and regret he’s been carrying, but there’s nothing left for him to say. He knows it. You know it. Even the mechanics and people around you who have stopped what they are doing to watch this whole thing go down know it. “Finally, I’m sorry that you felt the need and audacity to come down here, now not only have you ruined our marriage, but you’ve also ruined my day-off which I intended to spend with my boyfriend, and our son.” 

Charles flinches at your final words, his face crumpling under the weight of it all. The sting of your truth, laid bare for everyone to hear, leaves him speechless. His bravado has completely evaporated, replaced by a hollow sense of regret and defeat. He opens his mouth as if to respond but quickly closes it, realizing there’s nothing he can say that will undo the damage he caused, the pain he inflicted, or the years he lost. His eyes flicker to Carlos, who stands steady, unmoved by Charles’ turmoil. There’s no room for pity here. “I—” Charles begins but stops as Carlos raises his hand.  

“I think you’ve said enough,” his voice lacks all sympathy for his old friend, his old teammate, “it’s best you should go before you distress my girlfriend, or my son any further.  

Charles’ eyes widen slightly at Carlos’ words, the final blow landing hard. He looks as if he’s been physically struck, his shoulders slumping as any remaining fight drains from him. His gaze flickers between you and Carlos, searching for something—anything—but finding no redemption, no sympathy. There’s nothing left to say. 

He swallows hard, his lips pressed into a tight line, before finally nodding in a reluctant acceptance. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He turns on his heel, walking away with slow, defeated steps. The tension that had gripped the air slowly begins to dissipate as he disappears into the distance, leaving only the echoes of his footsteps behind. 

Carlos turns to you, his hand still resting on your back, but now it’s a comforting gesture rather than a protective one. His expression softens as he searches your face. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s just happened, but also a sense of relief. “I think so,” you reply, your voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind you’ve just gone through. “It needed to happen.” 

Carlos nods, his thumb brushing soothingly against your back. “He’s not going to ruin this for us. Not today, not ever.” 

You smile faintly, grateful for his support. “No, he’s not. He’s gone now, and I’m finally free of it all.” 

“We’re free of him,” Carlos adds, a reassuring strength in his voice. “You, me, and Rafael. That’s what matters.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful on the track today,” you plead, chin resting on his chest as you look up to him.  

Carlos chuckles softly, his warm smile easing the tension that still lingers. “I promise,” he says, his voice light but sincere. He tilts his head, giving you a playful wink. “But you know me, I can’t drive too carefully. It's in my nature to push the limits a bit.” 

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, but your heart flutters slightly at the thought of him racing. It’s something you’ve grown used to, but there’s always that edge of worry. "Just... don’t make me regret asking," you tease, though the concern in your voice is real. 

Carlos leans down, brushing his lips gently against your forehead, the gesture filled with tenderness. "I’ll come back to you both, safe and sound," he whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. "Always." 

You smile, feeling reassured by his words, and you give him a small nod. "Alright. Go show them what you’re made of, then." 

As Carlos pulls away, you can see the familiar spark in his eyes, the passion and excitement that he always carries before a race. He gives your hand one last squeeze before turning to head toward the car. You watch him for a moment, taking in the sight of him—confident, composed, and ready for whatever comes next. Just before he reaches the garage doors, he turns back and flashes you that signature grin that always makes your heart skip a beat. “For you and Rafael,” he calls out. Your smile widens as you watch him go, knowing that no matter what happens on the track today, you’ll always have each other. 

It’s not hard for you to find Rafael when you head back to the garage yourself. He’s completely engrossed in conversation with one of Carlos' engineers, pointing out different tools and parts of the car with wide-eyed fascination. His little hands gesture excitedly, and the engineer listens with a warm smile, clearly amused by Rafael’s enthusiasm. Carlos stands off to the side, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching his son with a look of pure affection and pride. His eyes sparkle as he takes in the sight of Rafael’s excitement, and there’s a certain softness to his expression that makes your heart swell. 

You walk over, standing beside Carlos, who doesn’t take his eyes off Rafael but greets you with a small grin. “He’s already talking like he’s part of the team,” Carlos says quietly, his voice filled with pride. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taking over the pit crew in a few years.” 

You chuckle softly, watching Rafael explain something animatedly, his little voice echoing through the garage. “He’s got your passion,” you say, leaning into Carlos slightly, feeling the warmth of his presence. 

Carlos hums in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. “Maybe,” he says, his tone affectionate, “but the way he talks about everything… that’s all you. He’s got your curiosity, your heart, so, all my favourite parts of you.” 

“My boyfriend the charmer,” you mumble as you lightly hit him on his chest.

Carlos chuckles, catching your hand gently against his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just telling the truth,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling as he holds your gaze for a moment longer. “You deserve all the charm in the world.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re good at this, or I might think you’re just trying to get out of bath time for the next few days.” 

Carlos laughs, his warm, deep voice sending a wave of comfort through you. “I’d never do that. Bath time is part of the job.” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. “But if I do this race right, maybe we can negotiate something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, but you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he always manages to make you feel light and cared for, even in the most mundane moments. “Alright, we’ll see how you perform today,” you tease back “if you win, I’ll let you put a baby in me, how about that?” 

Carlos freezes for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise before a slow, playful grin spreads across his face. “You’re serious?” he asks, his voice filled with both excitement and disbelief. 

You nod, biting your lip, unable to hide your own smile. “If you win today, we can start thinking about it.” 

Carlos lets out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to process what you just said. “Well, I’ve never been more motivated to win a race in my life,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a new intensity. 

You chuckle, your heart racing at the look on his face. "Just make sure you’re focused on the track and not… well, other things." 

“Oh, I’ll be focused,” Carlos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “But now, I’ve got the best reason in the world to win.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. “For you, and for giving Rafael a baby sister or a brother.” Your breath catches at the sincerity in his voice, and as he pulls back, he flashes you that charming grin again before heading off toward the car. You watch him go, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness settle in your chest. 

Eventually going behind the barriers and watching the race is harder than you’ve expected, you realise. As the laps go by, you keep glancing at Rafael, who’s glued to the action, his eyes wide with admiration for his dad. You smile at the way he clutches his little racing helmet, a miniature version of Carlos’ gear, his excitement evident. It’s clear he’s living every moment of the race through his dad’s performance, just as you are. When Carlos is in the lead, you hold your breath, willing him to stay ahead. When he’s fighting for position, you’re on the edge of your seat, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you have. 

As the final laps approach, you glance at the clock and then at Rafael, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. You can tell he’s just as invested in the outcome as you are. You squeeze his hand, giving him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a determined nod. 

When Carlos crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd is deafening, and you let out a cheer of your own, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. You look down at Rafael, who’s jumping up and down, his face beaming with pride and excitement. “He did it!” you shout, lifting him up in your arms as you join in the celebration. 

Caco and a couple of the mechanics help you and Rafael to get to the barriers, weaving through the throng of celebrating fans and team members. As you approach the barriers, Rafael’s excitement is noticeable. His eyes are wide with wonder, and he clutches his mini helmet tightly, bouncing with every step. Caco, with his warm, reassuring smile, offers a few words of congratulations and gives Rafael a high-five. Carlos comes into view, his car parked in the parc fermé. His grin is infectious, and you can see the joy and relief in his eyes as he looks up at you and Rafael. The moment he gets out of the car, he’s enveloped by his team, but his gaze quickly finds you and Rafael. He finds his way to you after getting weighed and you can see him grab his cap before finally rushing towards you. Carlos scoops Rafael up into his arms, spinning him around as they both laugh, and then turns to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and affection. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got a baby sister or brother to start thinking about,” Carlos says with a wink, setting Rafael down so he can pull you a in for a kiss. 

You smile against his lips, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the joy of this moment. When you pull away, you look up at Carlos, your eyes sparkling with love and excitement. “We do, don’t we?” you say softly, your heart full as you take in the sight of your family together in this victorious moment. 

Rafael, still buzzing with excitement, tugs on Carlos’ sleeve, his little voice bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Papa, did you see me cheering? I was so loud!” 

Carlos laughs, his eyes crinkling with joy. “I heard you, buddy. You were the loudest cheerleader out there.” 

As the celebration continues around you, you feel a profound sense of contentment. The day’s events, the race, the emotions—everything has come together perfectly. You take a deep breath, savouring the feeling of being surrounded by the people you love most. 

Carlos pulls you close, wrapping his arms around both you and Rafael. “Thank you for everything today,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve made this day even more special.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart. “It’s been an incredible day,” you agree, looking out at the jubilant scene around you. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.” 

As you watch him savour the moments with your son before he needs to go for his interview and the podium celebrations, you realise just how lucky you are to have something that only happens every few lifetimes. 

[formulawolff]

“my favorite driver!” - t.w.

pairing: fem driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 1.9k

warnings: cursing, mostly fluffy content, jack being a little shit (unintentionally), some tension between an ex-wife and the new girlfriend, mentions of divorce, toto being clueless, yadayadayada

a/n: well, well, well. here we are. a busy day of karting complete with jack, toto, golden girl, & susie! lemme know if you guys enjoyed this one! <3

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"are you ready?"

exhaling, you adjust your cap, praying that it will somehow keep your identity protected. after all, you wanted nothing more than to keep a low profile today.

"as ready as i'll ever be."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"be careful, schatzi," he rolls his eyes, "if you sound any more ecstatic you may burst like a little bubble."

"oh yeah," you scoff, lingering in the passenger seat. your hand hovers above the handle of the door, palms clammy as your fingers wrap around the cool surface, "i'm filled to the brim with excitement."

"hey," fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact, "it is not going as terrible as you think."

"it sounds like it's going to be an absolute shit show," you cringe internally as a whine escapes from lips, "i have to sit next to your ex-wife all weekend! we both know that i am the last person she wants be seen with."

toto tuts, shaking his head, "can you at least push through? for me? for jack? he's been chattering about this all week. you have no idea how much this means to him."

"i'll try my best," shame ripples within you, cheeks burning as toto nods, shooting you a wink.

"that's my girl. now, let's get going. he starts in about an hour."

the illustrious team principal slips out of the car, shutting the driver's side door. before you know it, he's on the other side of the coupe, a breeze rolling through as he opens the passenger door, prompting you to come on out. swallowing the lump in your throat, you oblige, ensuring that your bag and sunglasses aren't forgotten.

keeping your head low, your heart skips a beat as you feel his fingers find yours, intertwining them together. he squeezes tenderly, a signal that he was there for you, no matter what.

with that anxious sensation growing in the pit of your stomach, you couldn't be more grateful for his reassurance.

since there was a brief break in your schedule, you agreed to accompany toto to a weekend of karting. well, mostly because of jack. the little one was constantly buzzing about you, often inquiring when he was going to meet you. due to the nature of both of your bustling lives, toto conferred with susie on what a good time would be.

the two ended up settling on a weekend between singapore and austin, a couple of weeks before the united states grand prix.

it was a simple outing, really. hanging out with your boyfriend on a beautiful autumn day. you would be introducing yourself to his kid, a little one who absolutely adored you. yet, there was one factor that weighed heavy on your mind.

susie.

the f1 academy founder and racing mogul would be in attendance today in support of her son.

and god, did the thought of facing her for the first time since the news broke have you absolutely reeling.

what would she say? would she be kind? or rather, would it be a sickeningly sweet sort of niceness? would it all be a facade? would she even acknowledge you? would she let you meet jack?

no matter how much toto told you that she was over it, there was still that anxious feeling. it was ever-present, gnawing away at you.

and now, as you approach the garages, hand-in-hand with toto, that anxiety heightened, almost paralyzing you with fear. with every step, it felt as if you feet were concrete, barely moving at all.

"it's okay baby," a voice, his voice, floods your ear. it's barely a whisper, almost inaudible as you grow closer to the throng of parents and children, "i love you."

chewing on your lower lip, you manage to croak out a response, "i love you too."

you hadn't even spoken with susie yet and you were already bristling with fear. only five minutes had passed since you got out of the car and your palms were slick with sweat, armpits damp as well.

fuck, was this going to be torture.

you could manage to get behind the wheel of a vehicle that topped speeds of over two hundred miles an hour but meeting an ex-wife and former acquaintance was almost too much.

how fucked was that?

for a moment, you couldn't but admire toto's initiative to keep your nerves at bay. how he had pulled you closer, looping your arm through his. how his thumb traced soothing circles into your skin, his mercedes cap situated on your head.

he was doing everything in his power to keep you calm. and god, did you love him for that.

the team principal comes a halt, your heart thudding as scans the garage. he pauses, eyes forming slits as he searches for susie. after all, with her blonde bob and striking smile, she was pretty distinguishable.

you couldn't forget a stunning face like susie's.

"ah," toto sucks in a breath, "guten morgen!"

your head swivels in the direction of his voice, picking out a blonde. the woman turns, lips pulling into a grin as she recognizes toto.

"good morning!"

your hand trembles, knees almost buckling as she strolls towards you, little one in tow. for a moment, you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that maybe this was some sort of a dream. praying that you would simply wake up, wrapped up in your lover's arms.

yet, his hand breaking away from yours reminds you that is real. very real.

you remain still as toto's arm envelop susie's frame, bringing her in for a warm embrace. he pecks her cheeks, the words indistinguishable. you recognize them as german, cursing yourself slightly for not keeping up with your courses.

"and good morning to you," susie bears a bright smile as she turns to you, opening her arms up for a hug. you return the gesture, awkwardly placing two kisses on either cheek.

"it's nice to see you again."

"papa!" a voice squeals, bursting with joy, "she's here! my favorite driver is here!"

at that, you notice susie's right eye twitch. toto kneels, scooping jack up. he hoists the little one into the air so that he was at your level. at the interaction, you feel your lips curl, forming a quaint smile.

"guten morgen, jack! i can't believe i'm finally meeting my favorite kart racer. i think i'm a little starstruck."

jack's eyes widen, his cheeks tinged a rosy pink. his hands fly to his face, shielding his shyness. toto leans in, whispering something in his ear. in turn, jack peeks out, stars glistening in his gaze as he peers at you.

"did you come to watch me race today?"

"i did," you nod, "i figured i would give your dad some company today."

"mama says that you keep my dad company too much and-"

"let's not worry about what mommy thinks," susie cuts in, "let's just worry about racing today, okay?"

toto arches a brow, yet holds his composure, "let's go check out the kart and let the women gossip, yeah? what do you think about that?"

jack nods enthusiastically as toto sets him down. taking his father's hand, he leads him to the other end of the garage, buzzing about a mile a minute. for a moment, there's a beat of silence, susie inhaling a sharp breath.

"i am so sorry."

"about?" your brow furrows, "ms. wolff, you have nothing to be-"

"it's stoddart now," susie's lips form a tight line, her eyes squeezing shut, "did toto not inform you? the divorce was finalized."

"i-" you stammer, swaying slightly, "i-i had no idea."

the blonde rolls her eyes, bringing a hand to her temple, "he has a knack for forgetting important events like that. i apologize for putting you on the spot. i hope you know that i have no ill-will or grudge toward you. it's just... different, you know? he is so different now that he has you."

"what do you mean by that?"

susie motions her head, pointing in the direction of toto and jack, "just look at him. i have never seen him so loving or careful with anyone until you came into the picture. i have never seen him so proactive in jack's life. you have changed him. you truly are his golden girl."

in that moment, your heart swells, bliss rippling all throughout as you watch toto and jack. the little one's hand was wrapped around toto's finger, the child showcasing all of the new modifications to his kart. toto couldn't look any more proud, his gaze brimmed with affection, dimples apparent as jack toted him along.

"susie," you begin, attempting to form some sort of response that would truly express your gratitude, "thank you, for that. you really have no-"

"don't thank me," a chuckle bubbles up in her throat, the blonde resting a hand on your shoulder, "just stick around, yeah? i don't know if i can handle anymore drab and depressed toto. also, i wouldn't mind if you wanted to stop by the academy sometime. we miss you around there."

"i could probably fit that in sometime," you beam, "there isn't much more of the season left. i would love to come by and see how things are progressing."

"don't feel like you have to just because of me," susie sticks outs a hand, "i know you're fairly busy at brackley in your free time."

after her statement, she winks, heat billowing into your cheeks the moment you realize what she meant.

so she had heard the rumors.

"well," the blonde clears her throat, fishing her phone out of her pocket, "my partner is going to be here any minute now. i need to go meet up with her so she doesn't get lost. you think you can keep the boys out of trouble?"

"i sure can," a giggle flows from your lips, "i'll go see what they're up to. isn't the first lap going to start here soon?"

"yes," susie responds, spinning on her heel, "if i can't find you two around here, will you text me from toto's phone?"

"of course!" you chirp, flashing her a thumbs up, "we'll meet up with you soon!"

"great," susie flashes you a grin, waving at the boys one last time.

as she disappears among the growing crowd of parents, children, and family, you make your way towards toto and jack. the moment jack spots you, he waves you over, "i need help!"

"what is it?" you fold your arms across your chest.

"will you give me some tips?" the little one cocks his head as toto zips up his racing suit.

"what sort of tips?" there's a cozy sensation blooming in your chest as you kneel to the ground.

"racing tips, duh!"

"i'll tell you what," carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders, maintaining eye contact.

"the most important thing i can tell you to do is to believe in yourself. if you can do that, then you can do anything."

"anything?" jack's lip purse, toto hovering with his helmet in his grasp.

dipping your head, you take the helmet, placing it on the child's head, "anything. no go kick ass out there. i know you'll do great!"

at your words, you can't help but notice the way jack brightens. his mouth forms a radiant smile. for a minute, he's a spitting-image of his father, the sight tugging at your heart.

"okay! i'll go kick some ass! only cause you said i can!"

as toto helps him into the kart, you rise to your feet, a singular thought buzzing in your mind.

maybe one day a little toto wouldn't be so bad.

just maybe.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Period Drabble; LADS

Word count; 1,267

Warnings; mention of periods, slight stereotypes like mood swings and etc, fluff

Notes; So, since mine just started, I thought I'd just do a little drabble. They're not the best to be honest, but I just wanted to post something and it seems cute/fluffy enough! Periods are only vaguely mentioned in Rafayel's, but I think it still works.

One of Zayne's secret times also inspired me, they all have at least one period related secret time– which I find really sweet. Zayne's mentioned the raspberry tea and the massage, which I actually did for a bit today and it 100% helped. At least, for a little bit before I woke up enough to take some tylenol.

Anyway! I hope you enjoy, it's rather short and I didn't proof-read at all, but it'll be fine since it's a just drabble. I have a few more drabble ideas, but this one was more of a random idea so apologizes that it's not formatted well!

Xavier

“Are you alright? Sorry– shouldn't have asked that.” Xavier immediately retracts his question whenever your head whips around to look at him. 

You were curled up in a ball, sitting on the floor, and trying to slowly breathe until your pain medication kicks in. 

The first few days of your period were always rough. The pain akin to…Well, it was hard to describe. It definitely hurt though, that's for sure. 

“I'll be right back.” Xavier pats your head as he steps past you, but you wrap your arms around his leg. “Where are you going?” You couldn't tell that you were being clingy nor did you notice that your mood swings were all over the place. You honestly thought you were acting as normal as ever. 

“I'm going to the store, okay?” He chuckles, kneeling down to remove your hands from his leg. He holds both of them in-between his and dips his head down to place a small kiss on your knuckles. “I'll be back in a flash. You'll never even realize I left.” 

Disappointment bubbles in your chest and you let out a sigh, but nod your head. “Okay…” you didn't exactly want to be alone, but if Xavier needed to leave for a moment, you didn't want to bother him and make him stay. 

And indeed, Xavier was back very soon. In record time. 

He re-enters the apartment, seemingly out of breath, but the moment you look at him, he stands up straight. He has a plastic bag in his hands as he walks over to you. 

He kneels back down next to you and starts sifting through the bag. “I got some chocolate…I didn't know what kind you liked so I got regular, white, dark, and mint.” As he sets them down on the coffee table, you quickly grab your favourite to open it up. 

You start eating as Xavier continues with a chuckle, “I got a heating pad, some chamomile tea, some raspberries…” 

“You didn't have to get all of this…” You say, but you can't hide the smile on your lips. While he really didn't need to do all of this, you did appreciate it. A lot. 

“Oh, I also looked up some massages that can relieve cramps. I could do those for you later, if you want?” 

Rafayel 

“Hey– stop throwing brushes at me!” Rafayel huffs with a hand on his hip. “I'm sorry I got some paint on you.” 

You pause mid-throw and raise a brow, “I told you I wasn't in the mood to play around.” A thick purple line of dried paint decorates your cheek. 

“And I just apologized for that!” Rafayel throws his hands up in the air before he walks over to grab a washcloth. He wets it and heads back over to you. “Truce?” 

“I–” you sigh before shaking your head. “Fine. I guess I'm sorry too.” 

The purple-haired man chuckles as he tilts your chin up with a finger. “Look, if I knew you were on your period, I wouldn't have done that. Seriously, do I look like I want to die today?” He gently wipes your cheek with the wet cloth. 

“I'll help you clean up your brushes.” You reluctantly say, a little embarrassed at your overreaction, but you did tell him you didn't want to play around today. 

“I have a better idea.” Rafayel tosses the washcloth onto the table once he's done and picks up a lone paint brush from the floor. “Here. Paint on me.” 

“Huh?” 

“You can paint on me to your heart's content and until you feel better.” He curls your fingers around the brush and then gives you a small smile. “After that, we can make something to eat. I picked up a few boxes of cake mix, so we can bake one together.” 

Sylus 

“Sylus–” 

“It's fine, sweetie. I just threw the bedsheets in the wash, along with your clothes.” The taller man says as he walks back into the room. 

You sat, curled up against the headboard of the naked bed, with your head buried into your knees. 

“I don't see why you're embarrassed over it. A period is a normal thing.” Sylus shrugs as he sits down on the bed, patting the mattress so you'd move to sit next to him. “I sent the twins out to go procure some pads, tampons, and whatever else you might need. It's a shame the N109 Zone doesn't sell any of it…I might have to fix that.” He hums. 

You sigh and slowly move to sit next to Sylus, doing your best not to move too much. “It's a normal thing, yes, but it's embarrassing to wake up and have…blood all over the bed.” 

“You should be glad it's only your period. I would've thought you were dying otherwise.” The white-haired man laughs before handing you a bottle of pills. “It's the only pain medication we have around here. If you can't take it, I'll have Mephisto go out and get some more.” 

“Stop talking about it.” You hide your face in your hands. 

“Alright, I'm sorry, kitten. Just take your medicine before the pain kicks in. I'll go make you some tea.” He pats your hand but, as he goes to stand up, you feel your body jerk forward. 

“Sylus–” you bite back your anger, momentarily thinking that he was dragging you by the wrist, but when you look down you realize your wrists were connected with that annoying red light. “Seriously?” Why now of all times?

“It seems like you really didn't want me to leave you alone.” Sylus muses with a raised brow before he carefully picks you up. “I'll have to make your tea like this then.” 

“Hey–” 

“Would you rather I drag you around? I really don't want to piss you off. I think I'd actually fear for my life if I did.” 

Zayne 

“Don't get up.” You hear Zayne whisper and the bed shifts as the older man moves to get up. “I'll go make you some raspberry tea for your cramps.”

“Zayne…” Your hand pats against the bed, searching for him and you hear him sigh, his hand resting on top of yours. 

“I'll be right back, snow angel.”

“Let me help you sit up.” Zayne places the mug of hot tea on the bedside table, his hand moving to rest against your back as he aids you in sitting up. “Is the pain too bad? I'd hate for you to rely on medication, but if it's hurting too much, I can get some for you.” 

“It's not…too bad right now.” But your facial expression betrays you as a sharp pain floods through your lower abdomen. 

“Here.” Zayne lifts a spoon from the tea, blowing on it to cool it off, and lifts the spoon to your lips. “These raspberries should help with your cramps.” 

After you drink some more of the tea, Zayne gets back in bed next to you. His chest against your back and his hands rest slightly under your stomach. 

“Sleep for a little while longer…I'll keep massaging here, so you won't be in pain while you sleep.” The black haired man places a soft kiss on your head. 

His fingers gently push down on your lower abdomen, moving in a slow, circular motion. 

It felt…soothing. It was also surprisingly taking the pain away, but that could also be from the tea. 

“Do you have work today?” You tiredly ask, a yawn escaping from your lips and you feel Zayne shake his head. 

“I'm taking off. A certain patient requires all of my attention, at least for today."

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #50 - Roundie]

"When Jungkook accidentally gives himself a bowl cut."

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff

Warnings: just Kookie being the cutest and roundest, she teases him for messing up his haircut, and he playfully bites her cheek for it, they're so in love, snuggles and kisses hihi

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: i don't have to mention what i was inspired by LIKE he is so cute you have no idea i love him so much it's actually insane :( this is also something that ogc!googie would do so i wanted to be self-indulgent and write it ihihiih <3 have fun besties 🧡

“No!” 

You heard your husband exclaim this one small word around twenty minutes ago and haven't heard a word from him since. Only the blow dryer, which has been running the last few minutes, can be heard.

You and Jungkook are on a romantic holiday in Japan because the land is especially nice this time around to explore by motorbike. You are currently staying in an Airbnb somewhere in the Japanese mountains. The architecture and furniture is traditional with a hint of modern and the house offers a small private spa area. You and Jungkook have already enjoyed it earlier today, but decided to call it quits for now. You currently find yourself on the sofa in your pyjamas, relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea, while your husband locked himself up in the bathroom. 

Except for his very enthusiastic and shocked “No!” you haven’t heard from him. That changes however right this instant when the blow dryer stops and the door unlocks. 

“Baby?” 

“Yes, Kook?”

You can’t see him yet, talking louder to make up for the distance. Judging from his voice coming closer, he is walking to you. 

“So, remember how I told you that my hair is getting too long?” 

You set down your book.

“What did you do?” 

“Okay so, hah, funny story. So okay, you know how we met when we were both nineteen, yeah?” 

“Yes?” 

“Okay cool and I looked really sexy and handsome and mature?” 

“Thinking back, you still looked very boyish back then, but I guess yeah you did. Why? What did you do?” 

“Did you ever wonder what I looked like when I was fifteen?” 

“Jeon Jungkook stop the riddles, what did you do?”

He crosses the corner, appearing in your vision. You instantly crack up, coughing out laughter and pointing your finger at him. He gave himself the roundest and cutest bowl cut ever, looking like a teen with it. 

“What did you do? Baby, oh my god”, you laugh loudly.

“I cut the bangs too short. I tried to save them by cutting the sides, but then I had to match the back too and I gave myself a bowl cut.”

“You look so adorable, I can’t believe it”, you say, stumbling to your feet so you can run to him and touch his hair, “you have the roundest head ever. You’re basically a circle.”

“I’m not a circle. Baby”, he whines and pouts.

You snicker, fluffing up his sides. They instantly fall back into their natural bowl cut state.

“I can’t believe it, you turned yourself into a boba ball. God, look at you. It’s like you aged backwards.”

“It’s the same stupid hairstyle I had in middle school. Baby, please tell me I’m handsome, I’m a sad doofus right now.”

“You’re the most handsome circle ever.”

He nudges you gently, furrowing his brows.

“Shut up, you’re not helping.”

You cackle, now fumbling with his bangs. 

“Of course you’re handsome, my sweetie. I’ve never seen you with your hair like this before, I love it a lot”, you say and tug on his bangs softly. They instantly bounce back into their bowl cut state, reflecting the lights from just how shiny and round his hair is. You snicker, “god it’s so cute. You’re adorable.”

“I'm neither cute nor adorable. I’m manly and sexy. Urgh, I ruined myself.” He whines and drops his head on your Shoulder. “I'll accept it if you divorce me now.”

“Divorce-ha!” You laugh loudly, giving his butt a playful spank, “you dramatic baby, you. I already told you that I love it. You’re very handsome and of course, very manly and sexy.”

He lifts his head, giving you a small grin. 

“But…also very cute and adorable.”

He furrows his brows, opening his mouth.

You instantly silence him, “which is a good thing because it means I wanna cuddle you even more often.”

“Wait. This is a good thing”, he says, making you chuckle.

“It is. Gosh you, let me take a picture. You’re so adorable.” 

“If you must.”

Despite his initial complaints, Jungkook ends up posing with pouted lips and his hand throwing up a peace sign. It’s his signature pose he does in pictures and he looks very adorable tonight. You giggle at the picture, putting it as your lock screen. You show it to him.

“Look, now when someone asks me about you, I can tell them I’m married to a roundie.” 

“You”, Jungkook points his finger at you. “Stop it.” 

You cackle. 

His features soften, a warm smile washes over his face. He gives up with a fond scoff and a little chuckle, closing the distance by grabbing your waist and pulling you snug against him. You and he sway from side to side, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. You have your arms hooked behind his head.

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute, otherwise I would have to bite your cheeks for your annoying antics”, he says.

“Mhm bite my cheeks you say? Ohoho mister what a thread, especially coming from a life sized choco ball such as yourself.”

“Yah”, he complains and gives your buttocks a squeeze. 

“Sorry, sorry last one I promise. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, you snicker, rubbing his neck in apology. 

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing his hands over your buttocks innocently. 

“It’s insane how good it fits you. Up close, you can really tell that you fucked it up, but it looks so good on you that it’s not even bad that you fucked it up.” 

“Is it really bad?”

“No, not at all. Your bangs are a little choppy, but it’s cute. Very handsome. Gosh”, you squish his cheeks, “your eyes look even prettier with this hair. It’s like they’re supporting each other’s roundieness. You’re seriously so handsome.” 

Jungkook smiles shyly, “thanks, heh. Roundieness isn’t even a word by the way.”

“It is now.” 

Jungkook simply furrows his brows and goes in for the attack. He bites your cheek. Gently of course. 

“Yah”, you step back, wiping the saliva from your skin. 

“I warned you and you wouldn’t listen. Consequences of your own actions, missy.”

“Don’t talk to me about consequences of my own actions, Mister Accidental Bowl Cut Which Aged Him Back Decades.”

Jungkook laughs and hugs your waist. You chuckle.

“Come on you, let’s go to bed and cuddle.”

“Yay cuddles. I swear today drained me. I almost fell asleep in the hot spring.” 

“Baby, you fell asleep. I had to hold your head so you wouldn’t accidentally drown.”

“I guess I did. I couldn’t help it. It was warm and cozy. I felt very relaxed.”

You and he get under the same blanket. He lies down on his side, you face him. His bangs fall to one side, now looking like those typical two thousand tens bangs every teenage boy had back then. 

You play with them, eyes spilling over with love.

“If I had met you back then, I so would have had a crush on you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm totally. You would have been my type. You are my type, but you get what I mean.”

“I do, yeah.” He smiles and reaches out to play with your hair. “You would have been my type too. Your mom showed me pictures of you when you were a teen and I would have had such a crush on you back then.”

“Oh god”, you chuckle, “I was such a mess though. Did she show you the pic of my clip in leopard print hair strands I rocked with black eyeliner?” 

“Of course she did. You totally rocked them.”

“No I didn't, I looked ridiculous.”

“At least you didn’t look like a circle.”

You laugh, “mhm maybe, but you’re the most handsome circle I have ever seen”, you say, pushing him to his back and climbing on his lap.

Jungkook holds your hips instantly, purring his words as he gazes at your lips.

“Yeah? I’m a handsome circle?”

“Mhhm the most handsome.”

“Hah, come and kiss me, baby.”

You smile, he smiles, sharing a breathy chuckle and little moan with you.

“Kiss me, please.”

“Fuck Kook, I can’t get enough of you”, you say and pull him into a deep kiss. 

[sturniqlo]

Spilled Water- M.S

summary: where pregnant!reader films a video with the triplets and her water breaks and matt is freaking out. BLURB

cw: cursing, panicking(?)

an: lowercase intended

masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"no! the cooking oil! that's y/n's coconut oil!" nick, wearing a chef hat and a white apron, snatches the small mason jar from chris' hands. "what is my coconut oil even doing here?" y/n waddles to nick to grab it. "i went to grab it from your bathroom, i thought nick had said coconut oil." chris explains.

"how'd you hear- nevermind." nick sighs and returns to the mixing bowl. "i don't know where their stuff is!" both nick and chris had came over to matt and y/n's apartment as y/n was nearing the end of her pregnancy and matt didn't want her to be alone in case she went into labor.

"the oil is in the kitchen, genius." matt says, and turns to the cabinet where the oil sits behind. "okay, guys, today we are making a cake from scratch!" nick holds up the empty mixing bowl and talks to the camera. "usually we bake boxed cakes, so we decided to switch it up for todays video. and don't worry, we have the expert here, y/n!" she shyly waves to the camera.

she's been in a couple of their videos and the fans adored her. "guys, y/n makes these really good chocolate croissants, but the boss man nick wanted a fucking cake." chris crosses his arms. "hey, what's wrong with cake? we," y/n points to her face and her swollen belly. "also wanted cake." matt laughs. "thank you, y/n and baby. see, chris, i'm not the only one who wanted cake."

"alright, enough about who wanted cake. let's get this show on the road." matt drapes his arm around his pregnant girlfriends shoulders. "okay, chris, pour in two cups of flour." nick reads off of his phone. "where are the measuring cups?" chris looks around. "ugh! motherfucker look around!"

"don't be mean to chris." y/n walks away from matt's hold and opens the drawer to grab the measuring cups. "thank you-" chris starts off. "it's not our fault he's a little bit different." y/n breaks out into a laugh and nick and matt follow her. "okay, okay stop it! i think i peed a little. she's pressing on my bladder."

"alright now that we have all of our dry ingredients mixed together, we're going to add in our wet ingredients." matt says. "how many cups of water do we need?" y/n asks, a bit in discomfort. she's been having a bit of braxton hicks lately, but her doctor said to not worry. however, these were a bit different but, she didn't really pay too much attention to it.

nick tells her how much and she walks towards the sink and pours it. as she walks back nick gasps. "y/n, you spilled the water on yourself." he points to her stained grey sweatpants. "what? no i didn't, look." she holds up the cup that holds the water.

"babe, your water broke!" matt says with widened eyes. "oh my god!" she sets down the cup on the counter and looks down, sure enough her water did break. "i- i don't know how i didn't feel it." she giggles. "chris go- go grab the baby bag it's in the- in the- fuck- the closet by the uh- the door." matt stumbles over his words. chris doesn't do anything but nod and hurry off to get the bag.

"oh my gosh, she's coming? like now?" nick says, y/n laughs as she can't take him seriously with the chef hat on. "y/n, come on, we need to take you to the hospital!" matt places a hand on the small of her back and leads her to the door.

"matt, baby, wait. i need to change my pants." she turns and walks into their shared room. "what? no, you're fine like this! you're in labor." matt says, running a hand through his hair. "hey, calm down, okay." y/n reassures him and holds his face in her hands. "i'm feeling fine as of now, i think we still have some time until i start getting contractions."

"okay, are- are you sure?" she nods. "i'm sure."

"oh!" y/n shrieks, putting a hand on her back as she stands in front of the bathroom counter. she was brushing her hair until she got her very first contraction. "matt, get the car ready!" she take a deep breath and tries to ignore the pain. "come on, come on! chris has the bag, is it okay if they come?"

"i don't care if- fuck." she gets a strong one. "it's okay, you're okay." he kisses her forehead and walks her out the room. "chris lock the door. her keys are on the table." matt tells chris as nick now holds her and walks her out the door. "how are you feeling?" nick says. "like im about to give birth."

"wait! what about the cake?" chris says.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

A Golden Chain

Part Three of A Gilded Cage. Thank you @batchilla for workshopping with me and sharing your ideas! ~2.3k words

Jason isn't there when you wake up. It's something you expected, but it still makes something in your heart feel unsettled. Bean bats at your nose, and it motivates you enough to get out of bed.

Your life just sort of falls into a routine from there. Krystal, Destini, and Robbi fill your days with entertainment, in and out of the penthouse. Bean finds out that his favorite place in the world is on your shoulder or in your lap.

And Jason, Jason, he fills your nights. The notepad goes unused, but you see him every time the moon rises.

He starts to eat dinners with you. He starts to talk to you, never about what he's doing or why you're here. Even if you try to bring it up, he's quick to distract you or to change the topic. It's almost infuriating.

But, sometimes, sometimes, when he smiles at you and his eyes flicker, he almost feels like the boy he was before he disappeared.

You start to fall asleep at night with him at your side, hunched over and watchful in the chair next to your bed. It should be unnerving, should make you want to run and fight, and try to escape. But it doesn't.

You try to bury the part of you that feels safe at his side. Try to remind yourself that he kidnapped you to get you here. That all the military gear he's wearing isn't for show, that he must have some sort of plan.

It's not until Gotham falls into panic that you discover what those plans are. It's worse, that it's not him that tells you.

Krystal, Destini, and Robbi practically break down your door, it's not unusual for them to be excited, but their shared fear is.

They tell you about Scarecrow's threats, tell you about the deaths that occurred at Pauli's Diner. Krystal takes your hand at the end of it all nearly begs for you to go with them.

"It won't be safe, sugar," she says and her voice only shakes a little. The look in her eyes tells you that she knows it's a risk to ask, that whoever payrolls them to keep you company is dangerous.

"You should get out of town. Come with us, if you have nowhere to go. We can look after you till this all blows over," Robbi murmurs, voice low to avoid the prying ears of your 'bodyguards' stationed outside.

"I'm safe here," You tell them, and your voice sounds hollow to your own ears.

You haven't been so confused and lost, and shattered since you found out Jason was alive. You can't explain it, you don't have any proof, but your instincts are screaming that The Arkham Knight– that Jason has something to do with this.

"Honey, whoever–" Destini starts, before cutting herself off with a sigh, "We both know that's not true."

For a moment you want to go with them. To leave Gotham and all its claws and teeth behind. But you know, you know so deeply that he wouldn't let you go.

You shake your head and pull your hand from Krystal's, "Be safe," You say instead, "Get as far away as you can."

They're halfway out the door when you stop them, you hate crushing the hopeful look that crosses their faces. But you silently place Bean in Destinis hands.

You think it breaks their hearts and yours. And then they're gone.

Your well-meaning intentions don't get very far. This is clear because Jason doesn't show up for dinner. It's crystal clear, because as Gotham empties of civilians, Jason walks through the door of your prison with Bean under his arm.

You don't get to react before he drops the kitten in your lap, and Bean is more than happy to cuddle into your thighs.

"He's yours," Jason tells you as he tugs off his helmet, "not something to give away."

"Are they okay," You ask quickly, worry clear on your face and in your voice.

His lips twitch at your question, "They left Gotham unharmed."

You think it's the truth. You hope that he wouldn't lie about that. You don't have it in you to press.

"I just wanted him to be safe," You murmur, petting Bean as he nuzzles your stomach.

"He is safe. You're safe," Jason tells you firmly, standing rigid over your place on the couch.

You look up to meet his gaze, and your accusation slips out thoughtlessly, "Even if Scarecrow goes through with his plan? Even if– even if you go through with this."

You hope he denies what you're asking, tell you that he's not doing something so obviously wrong. He doesn't.

He stiffens more, eyes sharpening, "You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me," You plead, "tell me how working with Scarecrow is what you need to do."

He frowns, and tilts his head down as if to really look at you. His voice comes out hard, flat and nothing like the Jason you've grown used to, "I don't have time to explain it to you. All you need to do is stay here. It's safe."

"But, Jason," You protest, standing quickly as he turns to march back out the door, already tugging his helmet back on.

If his voice betrays how he's feeling, it's hidden behind the helmet's modulator, "This will all be over by tomorrow."

It sends shivers down your spine, how ominous his words feel. You don't get to ask anymore questions before he's tugging the door closed behind him.

He's left you, kitten meowing from the couch and the apartment feeling more like a cage than ever. It makes you want to scream, to cry, to break down the door and chase after him and demand to know why.

Why are you really here? Why can't you leave? Why is he working with Scarecrow?

There's no answer from the locked door. Frustration wells in your throat, and there's nothing, not a thing you can do.

So you sit. Listen to sirens sounding throughout a nearly empty Gotham. Watch smoke rise from a city abandoned by its people to the thugs and rouges of Gotham.

You sit and ache and hurt until you have to move. Until you find yourself out on the balcony overlooking the vacant buildings of the Diamond District.

It helps some. Jason had removed the glass at your request, and the cool night air is almost soothing.

You close your eyes, and for a moment it's almost peaceful. It's peaceful until a thump knocks you out of your thoughts, and you open your eyes.

Robin is perched on the railing two feet away from you. Robin is two feet away from you and every cell in your body is screaming that this is bad.

He says your name like he knows who you are, and you imagine he actually does, even if you've never met.

"I need you to come with me, you're in danger here," he says, extending his hand to you.

A part of you wants to. If anyone could help you, if anyone could get you freedom, wouldn't it be one of Gotham's vigilantes?

But you can't help but hesitate. Leaving means leaving Jason. No matter what he's done, why he's keeping you here, Jason wouldn't hurt you. He's been good to you. He's– he cares. He wants you safe.

"I'm not in danger," You tell Robin, and it sounds weak to your own ears. Your eyes dart between him and the city. It's wrong. You know it's wrong. But your hand won't move.

He looks like he pities you. It almost makes you sick. And then he tells you what The Arkham Knight is really planning.

The canisters of gas filled with enough fear toxin to cover the entire eastern seaboard. The nearly suicidal, revenge mission that ends in Batman's death.

That does make you feel sick.

"You have to come with me," Robin half-pleads, "You'll be safe."

You swallow thickly. It always comes down to that, doesn't it? Where people think you'll be safest. But you can't help but think that Robin is right. That Jason The Arkham Knight is out of control.

You reach for his hand. He helps you up onto the railing.

All hell breaks loose.

A gunshot fires. Robin makes a noise of pain and loses his footing.

The Arkham Knight barrels into you and sends you both falling over the railing and towards the pavement below.

There's screaming. There's– you're screaming. You're falling and screaming, and Jason tackled you over the edge of a building.

Your heart is pounding, and you're going to die, and you've never been so terrified in your life. The wind whips past your ears, the cold air bites at your skin. And the Arkham Knight has you in a death grip as he barks out orders for you to follow.

"Hold onto me– c'mon, you know how, move your legs," he demands, his grasp on your never faltering.

It's mechanical, a shadow of a memory that reminds you you do know how. You wrap your arms around his neck, hook your legs around his waist.

You think you hear him sigh in relief when you do, his arm clutching you all the more closer as he shoots his grappling gun for the nearest building.

Your stomach swoops as the momentum tosses you both onto a nearby roof, and you nearly sob when his feet hit the ground.

You're quick to untangle yourself from him, feet dropping to the concrete. He only wraps both arms around you to keep you tucked against his chest.

You want to let go of him, want to stop hugging him like he's the only lifeline you have, but you can't. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you feel dizzy and sick. The fear of nearly dying makes your knees weak and tears prick your eyes.

Jason just strokes the back of your head, murmuring soft reassurances, "You're okay. You're okay. I got you. I won't let them take you away."

You think you let out another sob, all but collapsing against him. You feel like a mess, head spinning and throat tight. You'd almost died.

"Sorry, doll, we've got company," he says, voice going hard.

You don't get to process his words before he's dipping down, and hoisting you over his shoulder.

"Jason–" You choke out, adrenaline and fear spiking as you scramble for something to grab onto, fingers digging into the straps of his armor.

He doesn't answer, only breaks into a run, his arm wrapped around the back of thighs to keep you steady.

Gotham passed by in the blur of colors as you try not to throw up. You register Robin chasing after you. It's the only relief you've felt all night to know he's alive.

The relief disappears when The Arkham Knight shouts an order for drones, and the shots they fire at the vigilante following you makes your ears ring.

You wince as Jason jumps from roof to roof, jostling you and digging your body into the hard plates of his armor. It doesn't seem to slow him down, especially when he lets out a frustrated curse.

You'd be more confused if you weren't so panicked and overwhelmed. That is until, you catch sight of a black figure gaining ground across the rooftops behind you.

Batman. Batman is here. Batman can– you cut your train of thought off. Batman can't save you. It feels cold when the truth becomes clearer than day. Nothing can get you away from The Arkham Knight.

Dots dance in your vision, and bile rises in your throat. It passes in a haze, the way Jason drops down onto the streets, the way he shoves you into one of the armored cars lining the streets. The way the tank takes so many twists and turns it makes the urge to throw up that much stronger.

It's clear you've lost your tail. Either they followed the wrong tank, or they decided you weren't worth the trouble. The second thought makes you retch.

The Arkham Knight doesn't hesitate to rub your back, to try and comfort you. A small part of you is comforted. A bigger part of you wants to scream and cry and hit him.

He continues to order the men driving the tank, his touch never faltering in its rhythmic movements.

Your vision swims, the drive passes in a sickening, adrenaline crashed fueled blur.

You think you might be crying. But it doesn't really matter. Jason hooks his arms under your knees and cradles you to his chest just the same. He carries you out of the armored tank.

You only vaguely take in your new surroundings. The rush of militia soldiers around you, the tables and boxes of weapons and ammo, the shouts and laughs over another one of Batman's failures.

None of that matters either. All that matters is Jason's gloves digging into your skin, the way you can feel his heart pound even through the armor.

He carries you into a room. You think it's some kind of office. That doesn't matter either. He sets you on a couch. It's surprisingly soft. The leather feels cool against your skin. It eases the sick feeling in your stomach, the spinning of your head.

"Get some rest," he murmurs, and fingers trace your jaw for a moment, soft, gentle, and almost apologetic.

Then he walks to the desk. You watch in dazed horror when he pulls out a shiny, gold colored chain. You freeze in shock and betrayal when he attaches a cuff to your ankle and the other to the leg of the couch.

You think he murmurs that he's sorry it came to this.

But then he leaves, and you think he isn't sorry at all.

You break down into the leather cushions. Half you wishes you were still with Bean in that stupid penthouse. The other half of you wishes you had taken Robin's hand sooner.

But that doesn't matter. Nothing does. Because you're still trapped, stuck in some base that screams danger.

And you can't quite convince yourself this time, that Jason Todd wouldn't hurt you.