#the consequence of this is that when one of us never gets scheduled there and is suddenly sent there after months

[fanfic-obsessed]

Rebellion of the bats

Ok, here’s another one that’s going to get a little wacky. As a reminder never look for canon here, for I do not know her. 

We are going to start today's madness with some build up before the main event. It is important to me that you understand that in this one, Tim Drake does not take after Bruce Wayne. Tim Drake takes after Alfred (feral planners, whose truest love and calling is to care for their loved ones, coated in a veneer of respectability). In fact it is Alfred who teaches Bruce how to prepare for any eventuality. 

And the Tim of this universe is prepared for any eventuality. Including having a plan for ‘Jason has come back from the dead, has been lied to, appears to hate the family, and is trying to attack me for taking Robin’.  So Jason attacks Titan’s Tower and is very surprised to find that, instead of beating up Robin, he finds himself being dragged back to that Manor by an excited Tim Drake (No matter how long or short after the fact, Jason is still not sure how they got from Jason wanting to beat up a teen to being convinced to come home). 

Jason, Dick, and Bruce all bond over the abrupt realization that Alfred and Tim are absolutely feral and that if either decided to go rogue the universe was screwed.  They also realize that it is part of their Vigilante assigned duty to keep Both Tim and Alfred from needing to take over the world.

This helps stabilize the relationships among the Batfam, this common goal.  So by the time Damian arrives, their relationships are much stronger. Bruce, Dick, Steph, Cass, and Jason each try to talk Damian out of his assassination attempts (more for Damian’s health than Tims). Tim, because Damian is now his brother and is 10 years old, allows Damian two assaination attempts without consequence. Damian’s third, and final,  attempt ended with a finger broken on Damian’s non-dominant hand…and no proof that Tim caused it. 

Because of this stronger, more stable relationship Tim was actually able to pass Robin on to Damian before the Darksied happened. Tim took up Red Robin with Jason’s approval. 

Darksied sends Bruce on his bounce through time. There are still rumblings of what could become a war for the cowl (including Cass, this time because grief can do weird things to people and I think she should get to throw her hand into the ring), but instead Tim finds the clues Bruce had been leaving. And this is where the biggest departure comes. 

Because all of the Bats are there, and they believe Tim. They have no reason not to (I will get to that in just a minute). In fact, they all treat this revelation as a relief and begin to work out a schedule for keeping up the Batman pretense until Bruce can be retrieved. 

Dick as Batman goes to the Justice League (during a JL meeting) with the news that Bruce is lost in time, and they need substantial Justice League resources (and realistically it would need to be substantial and/or unique resources, or Tim would have used WE industries or his own resources) to retrieve him. And look, Dick looked at none of Tim’s evidence so when asked how the Bats know, Dick as Batman answers immediately with ‘Oh, Red Robin said’. 

The other members of the Justice League glanced at each other. It is Diana that very gently brings up that Wonder Girl had told her that Red Robin had been very intent on cloning Superboy, trying to avoid outright saying that it seemed like Tim might have lost touch with reality in his grief. Everyone very kindly ignored Superman’s flinch at the mention of both his dead mentee and cloning. 

The Justice League gets to watch as Dick misses the point so completely that they can practically see it over the pointy ears of his cowl.  He actually perks up and goes ‘Oh yeah, he mentioned having Ivy check over his methodology for that. She said it looked good but her specialty is plant genetics’. Like that is not an objectively insane thing to say. 

From Dicks, and in fact most if not all people who spend enough time in Gotham, perspective Tim was not insane for his attempts to clone Conner. He had a plan to mitigate harm for innocents (potentially viable clones who were not Conner), was not attacking/involving other people, had another affiliated expert look at his work before he pushed the big red button, and he even stopped when it was pointed out that it would have been against Conner wishes. To a Gothamite that means Tim is practically reasonable in his 99 attempts to clone Conner. 

The Justice League can only conclude, after some carefully phrased questions, that the Batfam have unfortunately lost touch with reality due to grief, understandable grief but also very out of touch. Dick does not realize this is what is being thought, as he is just so relieved that they are on track to get Bruce back that he does not hear the incredulity in the questions, until a majority vote rejects the use of JL resources for the purpose of searching for the former Batman in time (it should be noted that The Flash-Barry- and Superman both voted to try. Diana abstained).  

We are going with the idea that it is more than just massive resources or expertise that the JL would provide, but some resource, item, or device, that is unique to the Justice League that cannot be procured by any individual member. 

So Dick has to go back to 3 family members (Jason, Cass, Damian) who have all had significant exposure to Lazarus water, which is known for emotional outburst overriding common sense, Steph the daughter of a supervillain (Arthur Brown may have been a d rate supervillain, he was still a supervillain), Barbara the all knowing Oracle (whose morals have adjusted to working with former Rogues) and her cadre of Birds of Prey, and possibly the 2 most frightening people on the planet (Tim and Alfred) with the news that the JL will not help them. This is also Dick, whose anger issues and need for revenge built Robin. 

The only restriction that Dick manages to get them all to agree on is that they will not make trouble for Superman, Flash, or Wonder Woman (Jason throwing his own support in no trouble for Diana). Then, with full and loving knowledge of what he was doing, Dick set them all loose upon the world (making it clear to the JL that Bruce is the only one who could reign them in). 

It takes six weeks before the decision to help find Bruce and retrieve him from the timestream is approved. In that time:

Cass and Steph become the rulers of a small country, ruling with an iron fist but enough morals that most of the populace loved them. 

Jason, with the Outlaws, managed to take out the League of Assassins (and incidentally managed to humiliate not one but three different Green Lanterns, mostly by accident). 

Damian met, became offended by, and dismantled a faux government organization in the midwest in possibly the most attention attacking way he could. 

Oracle wrote and released a highly tailored virus that released random ‘scandalous but not overall dangerous’ secrets on a schedule for every politician in the world. Her Birds of Prey kept Gotham running, along with Batman!Dick. At some point during this time the Joker ended up dead, but no one is admitting to who did.

Tim and Alfred did indeed become a major world power within the first three weeks. It wasn’t until week four that they gained nuclear power status, but quickly had a seat offered to them at the UN. They had just started considering if they should be expanding into the reaches of space when the JL capitulated. 

Bruce is brought back into a world where his kids are more feared than he is.

[ceasarslegion]

I have one day of work before i fly out tomorrow which is a bit awkward but at least im scheduled in TSA today so if they keep me there it'll be a quiet chill day. We dont have a ton of direct flights to the states and theyre all small and medium sized except for vegas, so everyone loves working our TSA checkpoint and i got all the american certifications specifically so i'd be scheduled there a lot. And like i said americans are way better as passengers than canadians are generally so im unlikely to encounter a karen today. But now that i said that im gonna get like 12 arent i

[fear-is-truth]

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝! 𝓢𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐍 . . . headcanons

݁˖ 𐙚 a/n. ۫ i need to be his housewife..

husband!salesman, who keeps his true profession hidden from you, presenting himself as a hardworking, white-collar office worker. he always has a perfectly rehearsed story about late nights at work or business trips, and you’ve never had a reason to doubt him.

husband!salesman, who can effortlessly shift between his calculating persona and the role of a loving, normal husband, a skill honed from years of manipulating people. he uses this charm to seamlessly blend into domestic life, convincing everyone—neighbors, friends, even you—that he’s just a hardworking, devoted family man.

husband!salesman, who has a soft spot for your cooking and always compliments it, even if it’s a simple dish. he jokingly says he only survives long workdays because he knows he’ll come home to your food. sometimes, you catch him sneaking bites straight from the pot.

husband!salesman, who never misses family meals, even when “work” keeps him late. he’ll call ahead to let you know, then heat up leftovers when he gets home, sitting at the table with you to chat about your day while you keep him company.

husband!salesman, who makes an effort to surprise you with small, thoughtful gestures. whether it’s bringing home your favourite street food after work or surprising you with flowers from the local market.

husband!salesman, who has a way of spoiling you without making it feel like a show. he’s well-off because of his job, so when he hands you a generous allowance or a piece of jewellery, it’s done so naturally—he loves providing for you, and you never have to ask.

husband!salesman, who is a total girl dad, absolutely smitten with your two daughters. he dotes on them endlessly, and has a special knack for making them laugh with exaggerated reactions and silly voices, despite his usually reserved nature.

husband!salesman, who always remembers anniversaries, white day, and other special occasions. he arranges for a babysitter to watch the kids, then takes you out to an upscale restaurant, where the two of you enjoy a quiet candlelit dinner.

husband!salesman, who is a fair parent. he makes sure both girls get equal attention and never plays favourites. if one gets a new toy, the other gets one too. he often comes home from “work” with two of everything—candy, stickers, or toys—earning excited squeals and hugs as a welcome home.

husband!salesman, who is the epitome of patience and understanding when it comes to parenting. when the girls argue or misbehave, he sits them down and calmly explains why their behaviour was wrong, ensuring they understand.

husband!salesman, who insists on walking you and the girls to school or daycare when his schedule allows. he carries their bags, holds their hands, and always kneels down to give them a final hug and kiss goodbye, reminding them to be good for you.

husband!salesman, who takes the time to read bedtime stories to your daughters. unbeknownst to you, the folktales he chooses often have a slightly dark twist—cautionary tales about greed, betrayal, or the consequences of foolishness.

husband!salesman, who often initiates moments of closeness, even in a busy household—a soft kiss on the back of your neck while you’re cooking, or tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you fold laundry, he finds has his ways to remind you that you’re still his priority.

husband!salesman, who unwinds once the girls are tucked in, he joins you on the couch with a cup of tea or a glass of soju in hand, listening intently as you recount your day.

husband!salesman, who enjoys settling beside you in bed as you start a k-drama, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. you lean into his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath as his fingers trace circles on your back.

husband!salesman, who holds you close at night, arm draped around your waist as he sleeps. even in his unconscious state, he finds comfort in your presence, his grip tightening ever so slightly when you stir.

husband!salesman, who expects a level of perfection and discipline in his household, partly because of his “work ethic” and partly because he believes it reflects the success he’s worked so hard for. he never raises his voice, but a single look is enough to make the girls behave—or anyone else for that matter.

husband!salesman, who does his best to keep his darker side hidden from you, but you sometimes notice the faraway look in his eyes. when you ask if he’s okay, he always smiles warmly and reassures you with a kiss.

husband!salesman, who told you early in your relationship that his father died from an illness when he was younger. it was a carefully crafted lie to keep his darker past buried.

husband!salesman, who ensures your daughters are well-educated and polite, reflecting his high standards. he helps them with homework, encouraging them to excel.

husband!salesman, who has already set up college funds for your daughters, starting them as soon as they were born.

husband!salesman, who treasures family outings. he takes you and the girls to the han river for picnics, amusement parks, and trips to traditional markets.

husband!salesman, who takes home security very seriously, investing in the best systems available. the house is equipped with top-of-the-line cameras, motion sensors, and alarms, all linked to his phone so he can monitor everything, even when he’s not at home. your family’s safety is his priority, no matter the cost.

husband!salesman, who has zero guilt about his double life, especially when he sees your innocent trust or his daughters’ pure adoration. he tells himself it’s all for them, justifying the blood on his hands with the happiness of his family.

husband!salesman, who is ruthless in his profession but draws a strict line between that part of his life and his family. he sees his success—and the life he’s built with you and the girls—as something he’s earned. the people who had to die for it? trash, utterly useless in this world. he never loses sleep over them.

[azsazz]

Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

_________________________________________

A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

[spiderb00bs]

- Baby Fever?

Mikey Madison x (g!p) reader 

“You and your wife had everything anyone could dream of, but on a trip, you both realized that maybe something was missing” 

Genre – Fluff      Warnings – English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake 

Now playing – Get you, by Daniel Caesar 

You sighed, parking the car in front of the large house you and your brothers had rented for the weekend. the weather was cold, and your hand found comfort positioned gently on Mikey's thigh. Your wife was in the passenger seat, looking around the neighborhood through the car window, ready to greet anyone she saw.   

You and Mikey met five years ago, both of whom were only twenty when you asked her to date, and twenty-three when you asked her to marry you. You knew Mikey was the woman of your life as soon as you laid eyes on her, and Mikey knew she would spend the rest of her life by your side as soon as she saw you, it was love at first sight.   

Mikey has always gotten along well with your family, just as you have always gotten along with her family, so whenever you had a break in your schedules, the two of you would take time to visit relatives.   

"Hey baby, is everything okay?" Mikey asked, seeing your clear hesitation to get out of the car.   

"Yes, baby, don't worry. I'm just mentally preparing myself to see my brothers." You said, making your wife laugh at your comment.   

You were the youngest of three siblings. The twins are the middle siblings, Haley and Nick are four years older than you, both twenty-nine years old. Now, Henry is the eldest brother and is thirty-one years old. No matter how old they were, it always seemed like you were the weakest, even with your frequent trips to the gym, nothing seemed to make you beat them.   

"Hey, you have really nice muscles now, I don't think they can make fun of you like they did before." Mikey says, trying to get you to have a little more faith in yourself.   

"I just don't want to be thrown into the pool like last time, it's freezing here!" Mikey laughs at your comment, taking your hand on her leg and kissing your knuckles.   

"You won't. Now use those beautiful muscles of yours to get our bags out of the car."  

Your wife approached, giving your lips a kiss before opening the car door, stretching her body as soon as she put her foot out. The trip here was long, and although you made a point of driving the entire route (which Mikey thanked heaven for), your wife was still very upset about sitting for too long.   

Getting out of the car, you opened the passenger seat door, nimbly removing the dog seat belt that was buckled to Jam's harness collar. Taking the dog in your arms, you let him give your nose a little lick, before stroking his head. 

"Go big boy, stay with mommy while your other mom takes the bags out of the car." You said, handing the little puppy to Mikey, who quickly started playing with it.  

"AUNT YN!" Hearing the scream you quickly averted your eyes from the suitcase you took out of the car, watching a little blond boy run through the snow towards you as if his life depended on it.  

"ADAM!" You yelled back, putting the suitcase on the floor in time to take the little boy in your arms.   

Seeing the commotion, Mikey approached you, seeing your nephew give you a tight hug. Your wife has always liked children, and whenever you and she went to visit your families, she loved to see your interactions with the children, especially with the little blond boy. Adam is Haley's son, you and Mikey closely followed the entire pregnancy of your sister and her husband, and consequently the boy was in love with you and your wife.   

You and Mikey had never given much thought to children, you had plans to get married and have a long, consolidated career before starting the other part of the plan and having children, but that was a plan that was never very well worked out. You and your wife ended up forgetting about the second part of the plan for a while, but when little Adam arrived at the family, your wife started to analyze that whole plan again, wondering if it wasn't time to have a copy of the two of you running around the house with the other children in the family. 

"Hey dude, what's up?" You asked, putting the boy down again.  

"The good news is that I got a PS5, we're going to play all weekend, and all night!!" The little boy said excitedly.   

"And since when does your mother let you stay up all night?" Seeing the little boy furrow his brows, you laughed lightly.    

"Aunt Yn, I'm already pretty grown up, I can stay up all night." Knowing that the eight-year-old probably couldn't stay up all night, you quickly concocted an answer to him in your mind.   

"I know, and I believe you." You said, before you bend down on one knee and start whispering to the little boy. "But we have a problem, don't tell anyone, but Aunt Mikey won't let me stay up all night." You said, signaling for the little blond boy to be quiet about it.  

 Mikey, who was until now just admiring the interaction of the two of you, let out a little giggle at your lie, knowing that you were only doing it so that your nephew wouldn't try to stay awake longer than he could.   

"Actually, I have to sleep through the night if I want to play with you the next day, so I think it's better for us to sleep and only play during the day." You ended by saying it, making the little boy shake his head and go to your wife.   

Laughing, you continued to take your bags out of the car, watching the blond boy hug your wife and caress Jam's fur.   

Entering the house carrying two suitcases and a purse, you saw your brothers at the door, one of your brothers taking a suitcase you were carrying, leaving you with only Mikey's suitcase and purse.   

"Just look at you, carrying all the baggage, you really started to get stronger after you got married in." Your older brother said, messing with you.   

"Of course I do, I don't want to be a pot-bellied dad like you." You countered, making the twins laugh and Mikey trying to hide her laughter.   

"You're sharp, brat." Henry said, pulling you into a hug and laughing at the moment you just had.   

Everyone was in the yard, sitting and talking at the big round table that was there. You had a smile on your face, seeing the whole family gathered there, having your wife by your side, all this gave you very good comfort. Mikey was by your side, your wife was talking to one of your brothers' wives, while you listened to the conversation and helped your father cut some steaks that just came out of the grill for dinner.   

Your brothers had gone to the fridge to get more drinks, your mother was finishing making the famous sauce she always made at barbecues like this and the children were playing. Everything there had a perfect harmony, you loved your work, but it was much better to be like this all the time.   

Finishing cutting one of the steaks, you have pierced one of them with your fork and carefully brought it to the front of your wife's face. Mikey, who was very interested in the conversation, got a slight start, recovering and smiling at you before eating the piece of steak from your fork.  

"yes, that's very good." Your wife said  

"Your father-in-law is a good barbecuer, dear." Your father said, making Mikey laugh and nod.   

"Do you want me to prepare a dish for you?" You asked, kissing your wife's cheek and getting up to go to the kitchen.  

"I would appreciate that, thank you baby." Mikey said, pulling your shirt and making you lean over and give it one last peck before letting go of you so you could go to the kitchen.   

Watching you walk away, Mikey saw Adam approach you, asking if you could prepare a dish for him too, which you promptly agreed to, picking up the boy and placing him on your shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

"Yn, could you not turn my son's brain inside out, please?!" Haley said, approaching the table with a plate of lasagna.   

Laughing, Mikey saw you throw your thumbs up, with Adam still on your right shoulder. The little boy mimicking your actions and showing his thumb as a 'cool' sign to his mom.   

"My god, I swear, your wife will break my son someday." Haley said, making Mikey smile at the comment.  

"forget about it, I just heard Yn offer to make a dish for you?" Henry's wife asks.   

"Uhm, yes?!" Mikey answers, not understanding at first why she was in doubt.   

"Wow, I thought everyone in the family was lazy, but it turns out they're just our husbands." Nick's wife says now, patting Henry's wife and making her laugh.   

"Hey!" Haley protested. 

"What do you mean?"  

"Girl, in ten years of marriage Henry has never washed dishes for me, you're lucky you got the right sibling."  

"Women were taught like this, our father never let Henry and Nick do housework, when he realized what he did, it was too late." Haley said, shaking her head and becoming thoughtful.   

"And the way she treats Adam?! Oh my god, it's so cute." Nick's wife said. "Do you want to have children?"   

"I haven't talked to her about it yet, we're so busy with our careers that we've forgotten about that part a bit." Mikey said, definitely hiding the deep desire to be a mother.   

"At least you already know she's going to be an amazing mom." Haley said, leaving Mikey more thoughtful than she was before.   

Everything went well during dinner, the whole family was together. After dinner, Haley went upstairs with Adam, ready to put the little boy to bed, your brothers' wives doing the same with their children, your parents went to bed early, so they went upstairs as soon as dinner was over. In the end, only you, mikey, and your two brothers were left, all talking on the couch.  

"You're both old enough to drink, right?!" Your brother Nick said, approaching with a bottle of beer and handing it to you and Mikey, who was sitting on your lap.   

"Ha ha, you're really funny Nick." You said, rolling your eyes at your brother's sarcastic speech.   

"I'm just saying that you two look like a couple of girlfriends. Are you planning to have children?" Nick kept saying, making Mikey and you a little uncomfortable that they haven't talked about it yet. 

The problem is, in your mind, Mikey wasn't ready to have kids yet. You both had very busy careers going on, you and your wife just finished shooting two separate movies, and you still had to do interviews and red carpets, not to mention the awards shows and separate things you would have to do to promote the movies you both worked.  

"We don't have plans for that right now, everything is very hectic, we almost don't find space in our schedule to come here." You said, making Mikey sit uncomfortably on your lap.   

"Wow, sorry lady businesswoman, sorry for messing up your precious time." Your brother Henry said, bowing sarcastically. 

You and Nick laughed at your older brother's antics, but Mikey just let out a little fake laugh, making you look at it, just to check if everything was okay. Without giving you a confirmation, your wife just cleared her throat, getting up from your lap.  

"I'm going to see if the girls need anything. I'll be right back." Mikey said, giving your lips a little seal and leaving your head confused.   

As your gaze followed Mikey up the stairs, you felt something hit your face, looking at your lap and realizing that someone had thrown an olive from the cold cuts board at you. 

"Are you stupid?" Henry asked, making a disapproving face that reminded you of the one he did when you were kids.   

"Did you throw an olive at me?"   

"No, Nick threw that. Dude, are you stupid?" Henry asked again.   

"Why did you throw an olive at me? And why are you calling me stupid?" Looking at your two brothers, you waited for an answer.   

"She clearly wants to have children with you!" Henry spoke.  

"Now, in this minute of preference!" Nick added.   

"She never told me anything like that. We haven't talked about the topic of 'children' since before our marriage." You said, bowing your head and reflecting on what your brothers said.   

"Well, she clearly wants to talk about it." Nick said, taking a sip of the beer. 

After saying goodbye to your brothers, you went upstairs, leaving the two idiots talking downstairs. Looking down the hallway, you looked for Mikey in one of the bedrooms, finally finding her in Nick and his wife's room. Walking in, you saw your brother's wife next to Mikey, who was cradling the little baby in her arms.   

Noticing the movement, Mikey turned to you with Nick's daughter in her arms, and you could tell she had one of the biggest smiles in the world on her face. You never thought your dumb brothers were right about anything they said, but you had to admit they nailed it this time.   

"She slept in my arms." Mikey whispered, pulling you out of the thoughts your mind put you in.   

"I believe in you." You said mimicking her tone.  

Approaching, you looked at the baby through your wife's shoulder, smiling at the moment. Deciding it was time to let the baby rest, Mikey returned the little girl to her mother, saying goodnight and leaving the room with you. Upon entering the room of the two of you, the tension was expedient, so palpable that anyone who entered there could feel it. Sighing, you approached your wife, placing your hands on her waist and giving her a kiss on the top of her head.   

"I think we need to talk." You said, making Mikey smile slightly and nod in agreement.  

"Do you still want to have children with me?" Mikey asked, clasping her hands around your neck.   

"Of course I do, my love. What makes you think not?" pulling the woman closer, you kissed her forehead, wanting her to feel comfortable to say everything she wanted.   

"It's just that we never talk about it again, we're so busy with our careers, that I thought you had given up on that idea." Mikey shrugs, you could feel the insecurity hovering in the middle of her words.   

"Mikey, baby, I want it all with you. You say, grabbing her chin gently and making her look at you. "I married you because I love you and I will love you until the end of my life. We have busy lives, but I will always want to conquer everything with you. You're the best actress I know and your career is on fire, baby." Mikey, who had hearty eyes for you, laughed lightly embarrassed at your comment.  

"Yours too. You have your projects, and I didn't want you to feel pressured to drop them for something that only I want." Mikey said, making you deny it with your head.   

"Baby, you still don't understand? I love you, Mikey. I wanted to marry you from the moment I saw you for the first time, I want you to be the best at what you do, I will support every little step you take. I want to have as many kids as you want, I want everything with you, Mikey. I always wanted to."   

Tears begin to well up in your wife's eyes, the speech you made didn't have a false word at all, and Mikey, knowing you the way she did, knew it.   

"You don't need to be in a hurry, nor postpone this my love. We're going to plan a step of this, let's sit down and talk, together. See everything we have and our possibilities, and then we'll have the family we've always longed for." Placing your forehead on Mikey's, you felt the woman nod her head slightly, letting a sob come out of her lips.   

"I love you, baby." Mikey said, gluing your lips together with hers.   

The kiss was tender, calm and full of love. With all the weight of the unspoken words out of the chest of the two of you, all the love could flow lightly through the air. Your hands were on your wife's waist, and Mikey's hands caressed the back of your neck. Her tongue tasted like beer, and her lips were so soft you could have sworn you were in heaven.  

Taking a few steps forward, Mikey threw you onto the bed, climbing onto your lap and kissing you once more. You could feel the excitement starting to flood the room, your wife's hands went down the fabric of your shirt, lightly scratching your back, while your hands went down and squeezed the woman's ass on top of you.  

"How about we start practicing now?" Mikey said, giving a smile you knew well, in the middle of the kiss.   

"I think it's a great idea, my love." 

Hi guys, I hope you are doing well.

I decided to create this blog to share stories of all the women I have a crush on. This is not my main blog, my other blog was created first, and it is dedicated only to kpop GG's.

It's been a while since some people have been asking me to write for women outside of Kpop, and that's what I'm going to do on this blog.

I've had a crush on Mikey for a long time, but she's not the only one, if you want to make a fic request, you can take a look at my profile, there are all the rules and all the women I write.

Just keep in mind that requests can take a little time, because as I said, this is not my main blog. Thank you for understanding

xoxo, spider.

[crownofgildedlilies]

snowmen

pairing: s. todoroki x reader summary: Shouto can’t quite understand the point of making snowmen, but he’s still having fun.  wc: 1.3k event masterlist

Dating was hard. 

There was so much to understand about a person, both before and after you committed to them. Fitting a new person into your schedule, balancing old routines while creating new ones. Meshing personalities to create a dynamic that not only worked but thrived. 

Relationships were work. 

But dating Shouto Todoroki meant not only dealing with the typical growing pains of a new relationship, but understanding that he was raised differently than most others. 

At the start of your relationship, when Shouto first began opening up to you about his childhood with Endeavor, it was hard. You could barely reconstruct the idea you had about the long time number two hero with the abusive asshole Shouto told you about. You were so angry on his behalf, and for so long. 

But that anger wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t going to change anything. 

Not to say you no longer despised Endeavor—no, you still refused to even look at him on rare events when you crossed paths when Shouto took you to visit his family. But you turned your hatred for Endeavor into affection for Shouto, and took it upon yourself to make sure he never felt as alone as he did in his childhood. 

And maybe you had another goal of making sure he made up for lost memories, too. 

“Sho, you’re going to be too cold,” You fussed, frowning at your boyfriend as he lingered by the door while you finished dressing for the snow outside. The dorms were surprisingly quiet for a Saturday, but you could only assume that everyone was off preparing for the rapidly encroaching holidays. 

“I believe I’ll be fine,” Shouto quelled your worry with a smile, a little teasing because of course he’d be fine—he could regulate his body temperature with his flames, if needed. Still, you chewed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating any consequences of letting him just use his quirk if he got uncomfortably cold. 

But you didn’t want him to get to the point that he was uncomfortable, at all. 

“C’mere,” You ordered, grabbing his scarf from the surprisingly organized coat closet. Shouto followed your command, stepping closer and ducking his head slightly to allow you to wrap the scarf around his neck carefully. You worked dutifully to make sure he was warm, even going so far as buttoning up his jacket for him. 

Though, that part was hard with fumbling fingers under his always intense stare. It didn’t matter how many months you had been together, he always found a way to make you flustered. 

“Are we all set, now?” He asked, taking his turn to appraise you and make sure that you were dressed appropriately warm. You shook your head quickly, but before he could ask what was missing, you darted forward to kiss him quickly. 

“Now we’re good,” You hummed victoriously, smiling at your sweet boyfriend who always humored your dramatics. Turning towards the door, you slipped your gloved hand in his and led him outside. 

A fresh layer of heavy snow had fallen overnight, and you had been practically jumping with giddiness as you woke up Shouto to beg him to join outside. He had agreed easily, for the low price of your love and affection, which you would have given him regardless. 

“What exactly are we doing out here?” Shouto questioned as you marched the two of you into the snow bank that made up the front yard of Class 1A’s dorm building. 

“Have you ever made a snowman?” You knew better than to assume that he had, especially since his very life until he came to UA was incredibly sheltered. You watched as he shook his head gently, and you couldn’t help but press another kiss to his slowly chilling lips. 

“I’ve seen them before. Fuyumi and Natsuo would make them in the courtyard, but I was forbidden from joining them.” He explained calmly, like it wasn’t a heart wrenching confession. Frowning, you set a gloved hand on his cheek, thumb brushing against the lower edge of his scar. As always, he leaned into your touch. 

“Well, I’m going to fix that.” You assured him, face warming despite the cold as he delicately held your wrist with one hand to press a kiss to the heel of your palm despite the glove keeping him from your skin. The longer you were together, the more comfortable he was in showing affection instead of just returning it. 

“I’m not sure I know where to start.” He confessed, and you smiled teasingly at him before tugging him into a crouch beside you. 

“First, you have to make a snowball. Then we roll it around so it collects more snow until we have the base of the snowman.” You explained, digging your hands into the fresh snow to pack together a decent starting point. Instantly, nostalgia tore through you with all the times you had made a snowman as a child. 

A fresh wave of anger towards Endeavor washed over you as you realized that Shouto didn’t have happy memories like you did. 

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if I used my quirk?” Shouto’s voice dragged you back from the edge of your anger, and the genuine curiosity in his voice made you giggle. For a moment, he looked between you and the snow like he was trying to find the best way of attacking the problem.

“You’re not thinking of the fun.” You assured him, jutting out your hand with the ball of snow meant to be the base. Carefully, Shouto took it from you, and examined it like it was a complex piece of technology. 

“We would still have a snowman.” He reasoned, but you rolled your eyes playfully at his stoicism. 

“It’d be an iceman.” You teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek to soothe the burn of your rejection of his idea. Sometimes, it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious, but you had a feeling that he was genuinely trying to find the fastest way to accomplish your goal. “It’s better making it the hard way. Besides, don’t you like spending time with me?”

“Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?” You should have known that he wouldn’t have gotten your teasing. You felt a little guilty, especially as you spotted the frown he wore at your supposed suggestion.

“I’m just joking, Sho,” You assured him, gently squeezing his arm for extra measure. “Start rolling the base, will you? I’ll make the middle part.” 

It went smoothly from there, constructing the snowman and decorating it with random articles of clothing from the both of you. The scarf you had tied diligently around Shouto’s neck before you went outside, the gloves that kept your fingers warm, a hat you had been gifted. The face was made out of stones dug out from near the porch of the dorms and a carrot borrowed from Sato’s rabbit, and though it was a little wobbly, you adored it. 

“I think it looks cute,” You grinned, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them to warm them up as you and Shouto admired your masterpiece. He stood behind you, and without you needing to ask, he wrapped his arms around you and trapped your hands between his. 

“The face looks weird,” Shouto admitted, and you snorted a laugh at his brutal honesty. Nodding, you pressed a kiss against your conjoined hands in silent agreement. You felt his chin tuck over your shoulder and rest there, and you could do nothing but enjoy his close proximity. “I’m glad we did this. Thank you, love.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

He didn’t need to say the words. You would have made a million snowmen with him if he had asked. 

Dating was hard, controlling your anger towards Endeavor was harder. 

But you did it all and more for Shouto.

[evilbirdy]

fem!reader with Se-Mi in the snow

Ｙｏｕｒ　ｈａｎｄｓ　ａｒｅ　ｃｏｌｄ

𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨~ 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵

Se-Mi x fem!girly! reader

ɪ’ᴍ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs ɪɴ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴘᴏᴠ, ɪғ ʏ’ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ, ɪ’ʟʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ ᴘᴏᴠ.

I watched the window in awe as snowflakes fell onto the ground. You couldn’t believe it was that time already. You rushed into the kitchen, being careful to not wake up Se-Mi.

I started making us hot chocolate, I even brought little pink heart marshmallows, they were too cute. I felt a sudden chill so I looked around and noticed Se-Mi left a window slightly open.

I closed the window and went back to what I was doing. The window closing must have woken her up because I heard her walking from our bedroom.

”Morning,” I told her, holding up a cup to her. She took the cup from me with tired eyes and looked down at it.

“Really, marshmallows hearts,” I nod excitedly, grabbing my cup and walking into the living room, turning on the fireplace.

“Come on, you know me well enough to know that I was gonna do this,” she rolled her eyes before kissing me on the cheek. I shivered at how cold her lips were to my warm face.

‘Ahh, drink up you’re cold,” I sat on our couch and she joined me.

She takes a sip of the hot chocolate and hummed. I always make her hot chocolates just right since she doesn’t like it too sweet. She leaned forward, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv.

”So what's on the agenda today, honey?” she looks at me smirking, she knows I have a whole scheduled day shoot scheduled month.

“Welll, for today, I figured we relaxed for a bit, enjoyed our hot coco then we go out to play in the snow,” she gave me a look and I tilt my head in confusion.

”We are choosing to go in the cold? Instead of staying in our warm house,” I rolled my eyes playfully, she was never really a cold person, was she?

”yes but come on, you promise.” I begged

”When did I promise that?”

“Umm hello, remember when you brought me to that loud concert during flu season even though I wanted us to stay home..and I ended up being the only one sick? Then you told me while nursing me back to health, ‘I promise that I will do what you want me to do with you’, remember?” I said painfully remembering that wild concert, even though it was fun but I suffered the consequences.

”Yeah I meant sex,” I gasped and slapped her arm playfully causing her to chuckle.

”Okay okay okay, I’ll go make snow angels with you or whatever,” I smiled gleefully before getting up and putting on my winter clothes, yes I almost fell on the floor tripping over nothing but thankfully Se-Mi caught me.

I watched the window in awe as snowflakes fell onto the ground. You couldn’t believe it was that time already. You rushed into the kitchen, being careful to not wake up Se-Mi.

I started making us hot chocolate, I even brought little pink heart marshmallows, they were too cute. I felt a sudden chill so I looked around and noticed Se-Mi left a window slightly open.

I closed the window and went back to what I was doing. The window closing must have woken her up because I heard her walking from our bedroom.

”Morning,” I told her, holding up a cup to her. She took the cup from me with tired eyes and looked down at it.

“Really, marshmallows hearts,” I nod excitedly, grabbing my cup and walking into the living room, turning on the fireplace.

“Come on, you know me well enough to know that I was gonna do this,” she rolled her eyes before kissing me on the cheek. I shivered at how cold her lips were to my warm face.

‘Ahh, drink up you’re cold,” I sat on our couch and she joined me.

She takes a sip of the hot chocolate and hummed. I always make her hot chocolates just right since she doesn’t like it too sweet. She leaned forward, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv.

”So what's on the agenda today, honey?” she looks at me smirking, she knows I have a whole scheduled day shoot scheduled month.

“Welll, for today, I figured we relaxed for a bit, enjoyed our hot coco then we go out to play in the snow,” she gave me a look and I tilt my head in confusion.

”We are choosing to go in the cold? Instead of staying in our warm house,” I rolled my eyes playfully, she was never really a cold person, was she?

”yes but come on, you promise.” I begged

”When did I promise that?”

“Umm hello, remember when you brought me to that loud concert during flu season even though I wanted us to stay home..and I ended up being the only one sick? Then you told me while nursing me back to health, ‘I promise that I will do what you want me to do with you’, remember?” I said painfully remembering that wild concert, even though it was fun but I suffered the consequences.

”Yeah I meant sex,” I gasped and slapped her arm playfully causing her to chuckle.

”Okay okay okay, I’ll go make snow angels with you or whatever,” I smiled gleefully before getting up and putting on my winter clothes, yes I almost fell on the floor tripping over nothing but thankfully Se-Mi caught me.

We had gotten dressed in our matching winter clothes, kinda matching. It was this cute Kuromi and My Melody set I found online. The hats even had little ears.

I dragged Se-Mi out there and we had good fun. She helped me make a snowman, she watched as I made a snow angel.

I was making a little baby snowman when I felt something cold hit my back. I turned abruptly with my jaw dropped causing Se-Mi to laugh.

I frowned and decided to get revenge. I made a hefty snowball before throwing it at her. We had a small snowball fight before she started chasing me. I tried to run away but she was too quick and had us fall into a heap of snow.

Se-mi quickly switched us over so she took the fall, we erupted into a huge laugh, I fell back next to her. She got on top of me and kissed me. I of course kissed back, despite us being in the cold, the kiss made me all warm inside. Se-Mi got up, taking my hand and brought us back inside to make more hot cocoa.

You can imagine my surprise when I got sick again two days later and she is perfectly fine.

“Are you kidding me,” I let out a sneeze. Se-Mi brings me some medicine and tea.

”How are you not sick,” I pout, looking at her like she was not real.

”I have a strong immune system but it’s okay, I’ll take the time to take care of you…again,” she kissed me on the forehead and turned on the tv, joining me in bed and cuddling me.

[emsdevs]

Bear and Bug: The Pain

a/n: so so sorry for the wait! hopefully I can get stuff out a little quicker now that I'm used to my schedule! also gonna be completely honest this is not really proofread so ignore any errors! happy (or not so happy) reading! 🧸🐞

masterlist | bear and bug masterlist

The mood at the lake house was drastically different than usual. There’s no fun, no laughter, and most importantly, there’s no you. The boys were obviously feeling your absence, but Jim and Ellen refused to do anything to make them feel better. One way or another, each of the boys played a part in causing you to leave, so the couple decided to let their sons deal with the consequences of their actions. You were basically a daughter to them, and they hated knowing how badly you’re hurting right now because of their sons. If the boys wanted to fix this, they would have to figure out how to do it on their own.

Each of the boys was dealing with their emotions in different ways. Luke was quiet, which is heartbreaking when you truly know him. The kid never shuts up, but somehow, right now, he can’t find a single word to say. No one has heard him utter more than one or two-word sentences since the night you left. He knows it’s probably unhealthy, but he can’t get rid of the ache in his ribs from finding out that you kept a secret from him. He spends all of his energy thinking about what might have caused you not to trust him, so he doesn’t have any energy to talk with, stuck in his head all hours of the day.

Jack was secluding himself, spending hours at a time locked in his room. He only comes out to shower, use the bathroom, and grab food. When he does leave his room, he barely even looks at anyone. The anger is still obvious on his face. He’s not over the hurt you caused, and he’s not past taking it out on his brothers. He just hasn’t found the will to waste his breath yet. It wouldn’t be long, though, until he decides to take his anger out on you once more. He just has to find the time.

Quinn was handling it the worst. He only had two moods now: needing you so badly that he stays in your room all day and blaming himself so much that he can’t bear to look at your room. The house feels empty to him, dull even. Everything is better when you’re around, and he’s managed to ruin everyone’s entire summer by being selfish enough to start something with you. On the other hand, he really can’t bring himself to care. He was the happiest he’d ever been when he was yours. If nothing else, he’s still able to look back and see how great you were for each other, but he can also look back and think of what the two of you could’ve become. It was a never-ending cycle of pain and self-blame for Quinn, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to escape it unless he had you in his life again, one way or another. If he had to settle for pretending he never loved you and letting Jack occupy all your time, he would do it. He’d do anything to have you here again. 

~~~

Cole Caufield wasn’t sure what to expect when he heard a series of knocks on his door at 2:30 AM, but it definitely wasn’t you, face soaked with tears, and two suitcases. Without a word, he stepped aside, silently allowing you to enter his apartment. Your state, combined with the time and unplanned visit, has Cole in such a state of shock and worry that he almost misses when you collapse into his arms, sobbing once more.

“Hey, hey, hey,” when he regains the ability to think, he’s immediately comforting you, rubbing your back and speaking softly. “It’s okay. You’re all good. What do you need?”

“Can I please just stay here for a while?” your voice broke as you talked.

“Standing here or just at my place?”

“At your place.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Can I ask what has you so torn up?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it right now, Coley,” you sniffle.

“Okay. Okay, we don’t have to talk. Let’s get you settled in.” 

He brings you to the spare room in his apartment, helping you put away anything that needs it. When you two finish, he leaves the room, letting you change and clean up while he decides to order a pizza for you both. The pizza arrives just as you emerge from the spare room, and you both find a place on the couch to watch a movie while you eat. Cole tried to put on something he knew usually cheers you up, avoiding all the Disney movies that make you cry and going straight for Cars. The two of you have eaten six pieces of pizza and are about halfway through Cars 2 when you finally decide to open up to Cole.

“I was dating Quinn,” it more or less just spills from your mouth. You didn’t have much control over it.

“What?” Cole is nearly shouting, clearly shocked by the news. “Wait. What do you mean you were dating Quinn? You’re not anymore?”

You let out a big sigh before giving him a quick summary of the events of your last day at the lake house, “We kept it a secret for a while because we didn’t wanna freak people out or cause a scene if it wasn’t serious. We told Quinn’s family in the first few days we were there, and needless to say, Jack caused a scene. He was all mad at Quinn, telling him he couldn’t let him have anything for himself. He started yelling at us both, and of course, Luke heard. Then he was all heartbroken because I kept a secret from him. Oh! And Jack called me a whore.”

“Jack did what?” Cole’s voice once again raised. “I’m sorry. I just- I can’t believe Jack would say that about you. You’re not a whore by the way. I hope you know that. Don’t let him get to your head.”

“I just feel so guilty, Cole. That’s why I’m here. I broke up with Quinn, at least for the time being, and I knew I had to leave the lake house. They’d look for me at my parent’s house, and I figured they probably wouldn’t think of me coming to you. Thanks for letting me stay, by the way.”

“Of course. Have you thought about when you might go back?”

“Not at all. I tore apart their family. I can’t face them any time soon.” “Okay, that’s a little dramatic, but I’m going to the lakehouse in about three weeks. If you’re feeling up to it, you’re welcome to come with me.” “I’ll think about it, Coley.” ~~~

Quinn was growing tired of the tension at the lake house, and after one dirty look from Jack, he lost it.

“Will you please get off of your high horse? I mean, honestly, you can not be this mad that your best friend got a boyfriend,” he snapped at Jack, ready for whatever his brother might bite back with. 

“Oh, says you. You took her from me!”

“Really? I took her from you? Because she spent the entire summer last year with you because she knew you’d be leaving her, then she spent almost every night on the phone with you, listening to how horrible the NHL has treated you and how hard it is living the life you’ve always wanted! The only reason we even got close is because she was terrified you’d stop talking to her once you made it big!”

“Oh, whatever! She’s been in love with you since we were kids. Everyone could see it. That’s why I tried to keep her to myself. This was all just some big plot she made up to get what she really wanted!”

“Will you quit talking about her like she’s some puck bunny you slept with on a roadie? God! This was not some big scheme. She felt horrible lying to you, to everyone. I mean, you’re the only reason we kept our relationship a secret. She knew how rough you had it, and didn’t wanna put any more stress on you! If you learned to deal with your emotions like a big boy we probably would’ve told you and everyone else a lot sooner!”

“Jack, how much of your emotional stress did you load off on her? Because it’s starting to sound like you caused all of this,” the two boys hadn’t noticed their baby brother had entered the room until he spoke, more shocked to hear him speaking full sentences than to see him standing there.

“I didn’t cause anything. They’re the ones who have been lying to everyone.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, bud,” Quinn was done with the conversation at that point, heading upstairs and straight to his ex-girlfriend’s room, trying to figure out where she might have gone.

“You need to get a grip, Jack. They were happy. There’s nothing to be mad about,” Luke begins to walk off before Jack chimes in once more. 

“I thought you were mad too? What happened to that?”

“I actually took the time to think through things. I realized that the only reason I felt a little betrayed was because I felt left out. She usually tells me everything, so it shocked me. But she had her reasons for not telling me, and I have to accept that. Maybe try using that brain of yours or whatever’s left of it.” He left Jack to sit in his thoughts, quietly joining Quinn in your room. The boys silently shared the space, knowing they were on the same side now.

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry

join the taglist

[whumping-in-the-dark]

~Fun Things To do With Your Whumpee~

CW: dehumanization, general cw for torture, manipulation, drugging, etc etc

So, just got a new whumpee? Or maybe you're looking for ways to engage with an old one? Either way, some of these may prove useful to you :)

Don't do any of these irl. I'm watching you >:(

If you consider yourself a 'nice' intimate whumper~

1. Good ol' freezing the shit out of your darling whumpee so that they cling onto you for some warmth :)

2. No? How about sensory deprivation? If you use it the right way they'll be putty in your arms in no time :)

3. Some good isolation works wonders too! Pair that with starvation, thirst, heat/cold, etc and you've got yourself a treat :)

4. Maybe your whumpee is just oh so stubborn :( but that's nothing a nice little drug dosage (or about nine) can't fix :)

5. Finally, if nothing else works :( just beat them up and then treat their wounds. Show them that YOU are the only source of comfort in their silly little life! It's a little more time consuming than others but frankly more long-lasting too :)

6. Here's a bonus round- paralysis! tie them up and watch a movie together! gags gags gags!! for all the back talking you'd hate for them to do! tattoo your name onto them! brand your initials onto them! and soo much more!!

OR

If you consider yourself a more stoic whumper~

1. Either keep them on a strict schedule or no schedule at all, whichever is more convenient for you :)

2. Force them to do your house chores and then punish them for not doing them properly (yay!) :)

3. Force them to pick their own punishments or maybe pick out how many of X they will have to endure! If they go too easy on themselves just punish them more :)

4. Force them to clean up all of the blood and gore once you're done torturing them. After all they are the ones who made that mess in the first place :)

5. Force them to address you respectfully, thank you after every torture session, give verbal answers each time, etc :)

6. Here's another bonus round- hose them down instead of giving them a shower! keep the naked or half-naked all times! NEVER use their name! collars collars collars!! Bonus points if they are shock collars with 'slave' tags! And soo much more!!

OR

If you consider yourself to be a pure let's torture the shit out of this whumpee kinda whumper... well~

HEY

WAIT

:0

MAJOR

torture and gore tw for this one~

it's the last one so skip it if you'd like~

1. Make sure they KNOW the consequences of their actions- do you pour hot glass/wax/etc into their ear for not listening to you? do you burn their tongue for talking back? or sew their eyes shut for glaring at you? :)

2. Track every torture session you put them through to find ways to slowly drag it out and increase their tolerance. After all, do they really deserve to faint when you're having so much fun with them? :)

3. Force feed them at all times or feed them icky liquids or pastes or maybe cut open their stomach and directly force food in through a tube? :)

4. Rub salt into their wounds! Pour alcohol over their wounds! Press into every little welt and twist your fingers into those cuts! :)

5. What? Still bored? Just pierce any body part of theirs you'd like and hook them up to the ceiling with that! do they get to stand on their toes? You choose that :)

6. A bonus round for y'all too ofc- manhandle them around by their hair! film their torture sessions to show them off to them later! pictures pictures pictures!! cages cages cages!! Torture their loved ones in front of them! Or force them to torture their loved ones! And soo much more!!

Feel free to suggest any additions :)

[the-oblivious-writer]

Too Sweet

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Drabble

Summary: You and Wednesday were simply night and day, contrasting personalities preventing any chance of pursuit

Warning(s): No dialogue, pining!Wednesday, & no pronouns but the word 'goddess' is used once

Notes: Based off of 'Too Sweet' by the lovely Andrew Hozier, this song feels wenclair coded - hopefully I get the energy to edit them to it one day. This is my first time writing for Wednesday, so constructive criticism is more than welcome, and much appreciated! 🙏 (as it always is)

Wednesday despised you. She loathed every fiber of your being, every word you spoke, every path you chose. Yet no matter how deep her hatred for you ran, it was all out of pure spite.

You were close friends with Enid, so inevitably that meant you and Wednesday often found yourselves in the same atmosphere. Sometimes you and Enid would have sleepovers and it did not take long for Wednesday to discover you were an early bird opposed to her late night writing sessions. 

You always looked so peaceful while resting. How do you sleep so well? Wednesday wondered. What do you dream about? It’s silly and utterly ridiculous, she knows. But her mind can’t help but stray when it comes to you. You have shown your own concern when it comes to the Addams��� erratic sleep schedule, if you could even classify it as one. You have always said to others—including Wednesday—to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. 

You wake up to watch the sunrise;  it was repulsing how rottenly pure that is. You were drunk on life, a poet—but far from Wednesday’s brand. You had a bright perspective; it was naive, yet wholesome. Your poetry revolves around the optimistic, steadfast side of life—while Wednesday’s consists of more realistic themes such as death, betrayal, and eternal heartbreak. It was a drastic contrast.

Wednesday could never bear such a naive way of life, so she simply doesn’t understand how you do. It was such a frustrating thought, the way you went about. Don’t you just want to wake up dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? You lived such a reserved life in her eyes; treating your mouth as if it's heaven’s gate, your body like it’s the TSA. 

She wasn’t oblivious to the glances you spared her; it was an internal battle refusing to meet them. But there were consequences. Wednesday has seen horrific things, things she believes would force a person like you into abandoning their wide-eyed outlook on life; she refuses to be the one who corrupts you. She wishes she could go along, don’t get her wrong. You were a goddess on earth, inside and out; bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. Tooth rotting was what you were, but Wednesday did always deem herself a masochist. 

If you can sit in a barrel, maybe she’ll wait. But until that day, she’d rather take her whiskey neat, raw as the honey in your tea, and coffee black as the ink you use to craft your sugar coated poems. Your sweetness was too overwhelming for her to carry, the looks you gave her alone were laced in your perfection. 

Everything pointed to the evident conclusion; you’re too sweet for her.

-----------

A/N: I feel eh abt this one, but I need to experiment with Wednesday more if I wanna get used to writing for her

[writingroom21]

Seeing the ghost face reader just inspired me with something. Imagine shy introverted reader (she's like fluttershy if you watched my little pony) nerdy pouge reader where she is sarah’s bestie who has a massive crush on rafe but doesn't show it but when he starts saying something really bad to Sarah (I don't know what) reader loses it inside since she can't show it so later that night she secretly goes to race room quietly while he's asleep wakes him up by slapping his face hard (he wont mind since he's always found reader hot) reader is secretly a dom as they have hardcore sex

Like A Virgin

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex(wrap it up), cream pie, overstimulation, chocking, oral (m receiving), (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 3.2K

A/N: I'm loving all the requests I've been getting! Keep them coming! I'm getting through them as fast as I can, so sorry if it take a while. I also just started my new job so I have to figure out a writing schedule. So please bare with me, I will get to them

“What the fuck Rafe! Why do you always have to start something? He’s my boyfriend, he can be here.” Sarah’s voice echoes through the halls.You had just walked through the back door to get a drink. She had invited the pogues over for a pool day, you’ve all been outside all day. From the moment you had gotten there you could tell something was off.

Sarah was tense and a little short, apologizing straight after and blaming it on being tired. You would believe her if it wasn’t for the dark looming shadow that was Rafe Cameron. He was lurking around, making sly comments, objectifying your’s and Kie’s body. He knew better than to try with Cleo, she would kill him in his sleep in a heartbeat. There was definitely something going on because even if he normally is a dick, he would have quit by now.

You’ve been Sarah’s friend for ages, the only person she never actually tried to push away. It was shocking for everyone because she’s always been out going while you kept to yourself. Instead of making friends you were reading not wanting to be bothered by the other kids. Then one day Sarah came up to you and forced you out of your shell.From then on the two of you were attached by the hip, always together. She never onced judged you for being a pogue even when all her kook friends made fun of you.

They saw you as an easy target. The shy, poor, bookworm pogue who hangs off the kook princess with a vice grip. She would always defend you, telling them off. Even going as far as getting into an argument with Rafe about you. He wasn’t always a dick to you, at first he was even nice? If you could even use that word but when he started to do drugs he became a different person.

You’ve spent countless hours in this house and viewing how the family dynamic works. They sometimes tend to forget that you are there, your quietness hiding you from their view. You’ve seen how Rafe can get, yelling and making a mess of things. How Ward neglects his eldest and youngest for Sarah and so on. The family has a complicated relationship that’s for sure, but you knew something was wrong.

Now you can see what was wrong, it was all of you. “No, I don't want filthy pogues in my house. They are nothing but low lives Sarah. If you want to ruin your life fine but don’t drag the rest of us down.” Rafe’s voice booms over hers. “Ahhhh you are so crazy. You are literally the worst. I just wanted to have a good time with my friends. Why can’t you just be a normal brother for once?” Sarah storms off running into you on her way back outside. 

“Hey did you?” She points behind her and you just nod. “I’m sorry.” You give her a quick hug and she goes back outside. Entering the kitchen you see Rafe texting on his phone leaning on the counter. He looks up at you and rolls his eyes. “What do you want, pogue?”  You ignore the venom that was laced in his words. Doing what you always do, biting your tongue afraid of the confrontation's consequences. “Fucking spit it out, stop being such a baby.” With a deep breath you do.

“Maybe you should try being nicer to people. Sarah’s your sister and you treat her like shit.” Rafe scoffs as you get water from the fridge. “If I wanted advice I wouldn’t go to someone who’s poor. You and your criminal friends are just a waste of space.” He watches as you walk away, looking back to say one last thing today. “Don’t you find it funny how Sarah actually has friends. You’re still hanging out with high schoolers because everyone hates you. Maybe it's time to change and grow up.”

He left you alone after that. The rest of the afternoon was peaceful and filled with fun. At first you were scared of what he would say or do. You expected him to actually run out after you and start yelling. But nothing happened. Sarah had ordered you all pizzas and set up the movies in the living room. Everyone ate and walked as the movies played in the background. As it got later, the sun died, sleeping until it is brought to life once again in the morning. Mostly everyone was asleep, Kie and Sarah chatted and you chimed in time for time. But soon the sounds of Kie’s voice faded and became nothing. 

“Sarah?” The sound of blankets indicates that someone is moving around.”Yeah?” There’s so much you want to say, tell her so she knows you are there for you. But none of them seem good enough. “Are you okay?” You hear a sigh and more shuffling. Sarah plops her pillow and blanket next to you, laying down, she finally answers. “I guess.”

“It must be tough when he acts like that. I’m sorry you don’t deserve this.” Usually you don’t really comment on these things. Rafe is an iffy topic for Sarah. After he tried to kill her, she finds it hard to even look at him. She wants to help him because he’s her brother but at the same time she doesn’t recognize him. You don’t like to pick at the sore wound so you tend to just lend a comforting hand. “It’s always kinda been like this, the drugs just make it worse.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I still remember when we were little and I was so scared of a thunderstorm that he held me the whole night. Told me that he would always be there to protect me because he was my big brother, he loved me. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that, I don’t know who he is.”

You hand finds hers over the blankets, squeezing her fingers. “Sometimes people get lost. Some get help and find their way while the others continue on the never ending path. It sucks that you can’t do anything, he won’t let you. If it makes you feel better I think that part of him is still in there somewhere, he just hasn’t had the chance to show it.” 

Her fingers squeeze yours back. “I hope so.” Sarah fell asleep shortly after that conversation, leaving you to lay there and think. You think back to when you were young, Rafe seemed normal then. Sure he had some quirks but what child doesn’t. He would always hold the door for you everywhere you went. Ward would have you tag along on outings since he felt bad seeing your face after Sarah would tell you about something cool they did. There were also moments when he would try to make you smile, the little boy just wanted to make you happy. 

At that time Rafe was okay with having you around, if you twisted it out of him he might even say excited. That didn’t last long because their mother died and with her she took the last last bit of hope he ever had. He never truly felt safe again knowing that the person he loved the most was just gone. The outburst was the first sign he wasn’t okay, yet Ward ignored it. Then it was the violence, once again ignored. Finally the drugs got him the attention he was looking for. All for him to hear what he always knew. “You’re a fucking disappointment Rafe. Knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you.” From then on out the world was dead to him, he only needed to focus on himself. Everyone else is the enemy. 

Sarah’s words keep replaying in your head. Why can’t Rafe see he’s hurting people? You get why he shut you out, even when you were crushed and cried, you understood. But he can’t do it anymore to his own sister. Without thinking your body makes a mistake. It carries you up the stairs and straight into his room. The sounds of the door shutting wakes him up, he rubs his eyes trying to process what woke him. He opens his eyes just in time to see your hand in the air and strikes his cheek with your palm. 

“What the fuck.” He had to take a second to fully realize that you just slapped him. “What is your problem? Can’t you just be nice to people.” He sits up on the bed and you try to push him back down but he catches your hands. “Me be nice? You just walked into my room while I was sleeping just so you could fucking slap me. How about you be nice.” You struggle to get his grip off of you to no avail, he was holding on tight.

“I’ve been nice since the first time I met you. Kept my mouth shut when you did fucked up shit. Stop ruining your life and the life of others.” His eyes are piercing yours, his hold somehow tighter. “Maybe you should keep it shut, I like it better when you aren’t talking.” He pulls you closer, your knee catching you on the bed so you don’t fall. 

He’s staring at your lips, licking his to wet them. You go to argue with him but he cuts you off. “Come on. I bet a filthy pogue like you could think of ways to put it to better use.” One of his hands that was holding yours lowers. He stops once he feels your fingers brush against the bulge that’s forming in his boxers. The ignorant smirk that always bestows his face makes its way back.

Yanking your hand back, you slap him again, the smirk falling. Once again without thinking your body makes mistake two of the night. You kiss him. Pulling on the chain that lays around his neck, smashing your lips to his. Your other arms wrap around his neck, the hand holding the chain twists, closing it slightly. If this was a mistake then you can beg for forgiveness later, absolving your sins can wait. 

He just tasted too good to stop.

His hands go to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “I knew you had a thing for me.” If this was your childhood you then there would be no room for arguing. The person you are in this moment doesn’t want to admit how true it is. You have seen how bad of a person he’s become and you know you would lose Sarah if she ever found out. “Do you even know how to keep your mouth shut? For once shut the fuck up.”

From the corner of your eye you see his belt laying on the floor in a pile of his clothes from earlier. Leaning over the side of the bed, you grab it and return to your previous position. “What are you doin” You kiss him to stop him from talking further, hands slowly pulling him over his head. The motion of you grinding down on him was enough to distract him from the feeling of the belt wrapping around his wrists and headboard. 

When you pull back and sit on his lap he goes to chase your lips just to be blocked by the fact his hands are tied. “What the fuck. Get these off.” The headboard rattles against the wall as he struggles to break loose. “Take these off right now or else.” Rafe’s tone is threatening but you can’t help but to laugh at the sight in front of you. The guy who’s been terrorizing your friend group is all vulnerable underneath you. “Or else, what? I’ll just leave you like this, maybe even take off the boxers so whoever finds you will realize you got played.” You scoot back to sit on his thighs.

“What do you think about that, huh Rafe? Personally, the idea of Ward finding you like that is hilarious. Better yet I’ll take a picture of you and post it everywhere, let everyone see the mean old Rafe Cameron as nothing else than a pussy.” Your teasing is accompanied by your fingers grazing over the bulge in his boxers. Rafe wants nothing more than to cuss you out right now. Make you regret even thinking that you could get one over on him.

The twitching in his boxers gives him away. He’s enjoying it. The big scary man that has a whole island afraid of him is enjoying the way you talk down on him. “You like that don’t you? You are a pussy, you know that right?” Your hand grips him tight, a whimper forced out of him. “Stop.” The words are weak and a contrast to how his hips are bucking up into your hand. Feeling generous you lower the boxers, taking his dick in your mouth without warning.

Rafe lets out a sigh when he feels the warmth of your mouth wrap around him. He goes to thrust into your mouth and you pull back, hands pushing his hips back down. “Do that again and I’ll leave you here to be found. I’m not kidding Rafe.” He nods at you, wincing as your nails dig into his skin. “Words.”

He looks down at you and can’t recognize who you are. Where has this side of you been hiding? He’s only ever known you as Sarah’s shy best friend. Yet the person in front of him looks like you but doesn’t act like you. “I get it. Fuck when were you like this?” From this view he looks so pretty.

His cheeks are a shade of pink from blushing, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looks good enough to fuck. If he took time to see what you were reading he would see that you’ve always been like this. You just never advertised it like he does. “Always have been. Maybe if you were nicer to people you would know that.” His eyes close when you go back to sucking him off. They scrunch up when he isn’t getting the satisfaction he’s looking for. You are barely even sucking.

It’s more as if he’s in your mouth and you are moving up and down on it. There’s no suction or hand to facilitate your movements. Not enough pressure for him to feel good, in fact he just feels frustrated. Your ears perk up when you hear his little groans and whimpers. “What’s wrong? Is it not good?” The words yes are on the tip of his tongue, they died as soon as his eyes met yours. There’s this defiant look in them, as if you want him to tell you somethings wrong. “No no it’s okay. Great”

You give him a smile. “Good boy.” The moans he lets out to your words are chocked on when you actually start to blow him. Rafe is no virgin that’s for sure, but god damn he feels like one right now. This has got to be one of the best blowjobs he’s ever received, scratch that it is the best. “Please.” He sounds pathetic and it makes you speed up. Rafe physically chokes on air from the sudden change, his body convulsing.

He keeps letting out these moans that sound whiny and a mix of pain. The way that he twitches in your mouth just confirms he’s close. Crystal blue eyes open to see why you stopped. Even in the dark his eyes are still beautiful, it’s not fair. Rafe watches as you slip out of your sleep shorts and panties, then you shirt. Leaving you fully exposed since you didn’t wear a bra.

Taking your panties, you crawl up to hover over his lap. He looks up at you ready to ask you to finally fuck him but you took him by surprise by shoving your panties in his mouth. “Hold this for me baby. Maybe that will finally shut you up.” The two of you stare into the others eyes as you sink down on him. Just from sucking him off you were soaked so he easily slid in. It was a good thing you muffled him. The moan he let out was so loud that it could still be heard, you had to cover his mouth just to stop the sound.

“God you act like a fucking virgin. Thought you were the kook king who could get anyone he wanted.” Rafe’s head was pinning, everything you are doing is making him so confused. He’s usually the one fucking, even when the girls on top he controls everything. Having you come in here and just fuck him as if he’s there for you is mind fucking. When he’s pictured this exact moment it was with you under him, screaming and clawing at his back as he fucked the shit out of you.

This is not how your first time should have gone. It’s the wrong way around yet it felt amazing.

Sweat is forming on your skin, the moonlight reflecting off of it. Your body is on overdrive, bouncing up and down. There is a tingle in your lower abdomen, a sign of your impending orgasim. As the feeling slowly crocendos, your body leans forward. You place the hand that was covering his mouth on his throat. The squeeze of your hand has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He’s so close to cumming, can feel it running from his fingertips to his arms that you have tied. He practically cries when you finally cum, your walls pulsating around him, triggering his own orgasim. You let go of his throat, wiping the tears from his eyes and shushing him. “It’s okay. You did so good.” He sobs around your panties, sucking the fabric lightly to ground himself. The way you keep slowly bouncing is killing him, he’s ready to pass out from the sensation. 

Looking down to see where the two of you were connected was his first mistake of the night. The sight alone sent him into another smaller orgasim, his body thrashing from the overstimulation. You pull yourself up and fall down next to him. After a few minutes of not talking to catch your breaths, Rafe tries to speak. Looking over at him you can see he’s staring at you, leaning up you take your panties out of his mouth and slip them back on.

“Are you going to untie me now?” You smile at him and give him a short kiss. Getting up you gather your clothes and put them on. “This isn’t funny untie me or I’ll tell everyone you fucked me.” You walk over to the side of the bed he occupied, leaning to grab the belt holding his arms. Dipping your head to his ears you whisper to him. “Really think anyone would believe you?”

You move back watching his face drop when you walk further towards the door. “Think of this as payback for all my years of silence.” You shrug and open the door. “I’ll get you back for this.” With one last look at him you smirked.

“I hope so.”

[lilasamaaa]

Havana | Charles Leclerc & Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst, Hurt, Smut.

Word count | 5.0K

Warnings | Sexual content, alcohol consumption, cheating, some gaslighting, heartbreak!!

Summary | Reader and Charles, who've been dating for a few years, go on a trip to Cuba between two races. A few days before leaving, they learn that Carlos and Rebecca will be staying at the same resort. Good news, right? Well, if you forget Carlos and reader's years-long mutual attraction. Inspired by the « She chose me/Did she? » trend on TikTok… with a twist.

Author's note | Lord... This was so filthy I'm sorry. This piece is the result of this poll! Wrote half of this listening to These Walls by Dua Lipa, the other with Never Be The Same by Camila Cabello. Just so you get the mood. Not proofread, sorry!

She had been waiting for these holidays for months.

Since the beginning of the season, she hadn't been able to travel with Charles to any race, having no available days off. She was jealous of the others wags. The influencers. The ones who could rearrange their schedules in the blink of an eye to follow their boyfriends to the other side of the world without thinking about the consequences. But she'd foolishly chosen to pursue studies, foolishly found a job in marketing, foolishly trapped herself without even realizing it. She loved her job. Or at least, that's what she repeated to herself every morning when her alarm went off at 6 a.m. Sharp.

She had followed the start of the season through her TV and phone, and had savored every brief moment Charles had spent in Monaco (which represented, like... twenty days, tops, since the beginning of March). She knew she couldn't complain. That she didn't have the right to. She'd chosen to share her life with a high-level and high-profile athlete, and this situation couldn't obviously be all positive. She knew that other women would have sold their souls to be in her place. To wake up next to Charles, even just once a month. So, she never complained. She endured.

Charles had returned from China two days earlier, and they were heading to Cuba this afternoon, preparing for ten days of pure bliss. She was euphoric. Delighted not to set her alarm for the next day, delighted not to see her boss and colleagues for ten days, delighted to spend time with Charles. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Yet... There was something.

Yesterday night, at the restaurant, as they were making the final preparations, Charles' phone had lit up on the table and the driver had grabbed it, staring at the screen for a few seconds before exclaiming, "Non, j'y crois pas!". She had shot him a questioning look, and her boyfriend had chuckled before saying "Carlos just texted me. Him and Rebecca are staying at the same resort as us in Havana. This is gonna be so cool."

Oh.

She hadn't responded, just smiled, and returned her attention to the plate of pasta in front of her. Carlos was... a friend. Well, it was actually hard to define. He was obviously primarily Charles' friend, but they had crossed paths quite regularly in the past few years, and naturally, they had hit it off. There was just one issue. One tiny thing.

The man drove her crazy. It was ridiculous. Almost humiliating. She had been sharing her life with Charles for four years. She was happy. She was in love! But... She couldn't deny that Carlos made her feel things that Charles never had. Just the thought of acknowledging this made her want to throw up.

She had never acted on her impulses. Absolutely never. But... she could have. She had noticed glances.

It had started one evening at the restaurant, in 2021, when the two Ferrari drivers had organized a double date for their partners to meet. She had immediately loved Isa, with whom she had hit it off right away. The dinner had gone admirably well, the food was amazing, the wine delicious. The wine. There had been too much of it. They all probably thought so, seeing the bottles go by, but no one had stopped. No one wanted to be the one to break the great mood of the evening. So, they’d drank. Again and again.

If at the beginning of the meal, Carlos had just been casting curious glances in her direction, the wine had changed that. By the time Charles was explaining to Isa how they had met, the Spaniard was piercing her with his gaze. Equally intoxicated and never one to back down from a challenge, she had not flinched at the driver's boldness, holding his gaze, not even blinking. It had lasted a minute. Maybe two. Or even five, before Charles had asked her the name of the movie they'd seen on their third date, you know, the one with the mansion, and she’d finally tore her gaze away from Carlos.

"I believe that was Knives Out," she'd replied, smiling fondly at her boyfriend.

The conversation had resumed its course, and a few hours later, the two couples had parted ways. Lying in bed, in the middle of the night, she could still feel Carlos' burning gaze on her. That could have been nothing. She could always blame it on the wine. But there'd been more.

One day, Charles had suggested that she came with him to an interview he was going to do with Carlos. "It won't take long," he had said. "And as soon as it's over, we'll go grab a bite at that Mexican restaurant you love". She had agreed. The questions had started simple.

"What would be your perfect day?"

"What's your pre-race tradition?"

"Describe your ideal woman"

Even though she had been browsing her phone for a while, absorbed by the device, this question had made her look up. Locking eyes with Charles, the driver had smiled at her before answering.

"That's rather easy to answer, because I've already found her. My ideal woman is career-oriented. She works hard, doesn't count her hours. She wants to succeed because she deserves it, not because she's dating me. She excels in everything she undertakes. She sets no limits for herself, fears nothing. Tries everything. She can be uncompromising, but she knows how to be gentle and caring. She has weaknesses, but she only shows them to me. I am her refuge, and she is mine."

She had smiled, touched, blowing a kiss to her boyfriend.

"Carlos?" the interviewer had said.

"My ideal woman..." the Spaniard had started, searching for his words. "Actually, I have the same, erm… taste as Charles. But I would add that my ideal woman isn't afraid to make mistakes. She allows herself to make wrong choices, to take the wrong path. It's okay, she will always find her way back," he had added, looking her straight in the eyes. That bastard can't be for real, she'd thought.

The last... "incident" had occurred at the end of last season. It hadn't been easy, but she had managed to get time off, and she had joined Charles in Abu Dhabi for the last race of the season. Her boyfriend had finished fifth in the championship, and everyone : drivers, engineers, girlfriends, had ended up at the club to celebrate Max's victory.

She wasn't a fan of nightclubs. She was very migraine-prone, and the music, combined with the neon lights, didn't do well with her. Feeling the pain starting behind her eyes, she had signaled to Charles that she was going outside, and despite his insistence, she had convinced him to stay inside, wanting him to enjoy the evening. In the dark corridor leading outside, she had closed her eyes for a second. No more. Just to relieve the pain for a moment. And she had bumped into someone, of course.

The someone being Mister Sainz himself. Of course.

"I'm sorry," she'd said, still rubbing her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"Just a migraine."

"Here," he'd said, leading her outside. "Let's get some calm."

She was surprised to see no one outside. Granted, it was already late, almost 4 a.m., and many people had left the club already. But still, she'd expected to see a few people. Smokers, at least...

"Charles fought well," Carlos had said, leaning against a wall.

"Yeah. He'll be champion one day."

"Of course," the Spaniard had say, grinning. "He'll have the cup." A pause. "And the girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she'd replied, pretending not to understand.

"Everything Charles wants, Charles gets."

She wasn't in the mood for this. Not tonight. Even if she found it hard to meet the Spaniard's gaze. Even if feeling his eyes on her made her shiver. Even if she could feel her lower abdomen tighten every time the driver's smooth voice reached her ears.

"Maybe everything Charles has, Charles fought for," she had replied.

"Oh yeah? Is that the secret?" Carlos had asked, coming closer.

"There's no secret."

"Do you want me to fight for you?" he had added, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck.

"You must have misunderstood," she'd said, finally meeting his gaze. "I'm talking about the championship."

Carlos had let out a laugh. An ironic, mocking laugh. Disappointed, almost. A laugh that meant "You and I understood each other perfectly well, but you won't dare go further". And she hadn't dared. Casting one last glance, she had gone back inside, leaving him alone under the stars of Baku.

She hadn't seen him since. Good riddance.

"I still can't believe it," Charles had said, yesterday night, taking a spoonful of his tiramisu. "At least, you won't be alone when I go golfing. I haven't seen much of Rebecca, but she seems very nice. I'm sure you two will get along well."

"So that's it? Our romantic vacation just turned into a friend's getaway?" she'd asked, almost offended.

"No, of course not. I'm sorry, mon coeur. We'll spend as much time together as possible, but... it could be nice to do a thing or two with them, right? I thought you loved Carlos."

The sentence had overwhelmed her with guilt.

"I like Carlos. I loved Isa, though," she'd answered, pouting, while Charles looked at her with soft eyes.

"Yeah, I know. But we have to come to terms with the fact that we won't see Isa again. Or, at least, not with Carlos." the driver had said, rising from his seat. "I'll pay, will you wait for me outside?"

Three days and three flights later, she's sitting at the hotel restaurant table, facing Carlos, wondering what Charles could have possibly misunderstood in her request a few days earlier. We'll spend as much time together as possible, yeah, right, she thinks, clearly annoyed.

"It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Rebecca," Charles says, giving the model a big smile. "Carlos must only have eyes for you, because I hear about you every other day."

She chokes on her drink. The whole table looks at her.

"Sorry," she says. "Ice cubes."

The conversation resumes, Rebecca proving to be very interesting. And apparently very much in love with Carlos, she thinks as she watches the blue-eyed blonde. She doesn't like the pinch she feels in her heart. She doesn't even want to put a name on it. It doesn't matter.

"I'm so happy that you’re here," Rebecca says after a while. "I can't wait to spend more time with you all," she finishes with a big smile.

"Yeah. Can't wait," Carlos says, turning his gaze away from Rebecca's eyes. Finding hers.

The following days pass without incident. Charles divides his day between the hotel pool, the golf course, and their bed, where they make love several times a day. If for some time she had the feeling that they were less close, everything seems forgotten under the Cuban sun.

One day, while she was riding Charles particularly loudly, the driver's hands digging into her hips in a deliciously painful way, someone had knocked on their bedroom door. Surprised, they had stopped suddenly, like teenagers caught red-handed, before Charles had jumped out of bed, grabbing a towel on the go.

"You're not actually going to open the door, are you?" she had asked, hidden under the sheets, with only her head out.

"You never know, what if it's urgent... Like... A fire?" her boyfriend had replied before opening the door.

It very obviously hadn't been urgent, and she had felt like dying of embarrassment when she'd seen Carlos's smug face on the other side of the door. He'd quickly glanced past Charles to look at her. Very obviously naked.

"Sorry to interrupt," he'd said, accent thick, licking his lips. "We had agreed to meet ten minutes ago to go play tennis."

"Did we? Oh my god, I'm sorry," Charles had said, closing the door behind him, running to the bathroom to change. Ten minutes later, both of them had left and she’d found herself alone in the room. Hot and bothered.

In the evening, to make up for leaving her alone all day, a very tanned Charles had invited her to a fancy restaurant in Havana, before taking her dancing. She had loved that night, so close together in the anonymity of the Cuban capital. She would have liked to prolong the festivities, to pick up where they had left off, but as soon as they'd returned to the room, Charles had laid down "for five minutes," and had been snoring ever since.

A faint knock echoes against the door of the room, and she gets up discreetly, careful not to wake Charles.

"You've got to be kidding me..." she starts, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are you sleeping in front of our door or something?" she spits out, annoyed to find herself facing the Spaniard for the second time today.

"Charles forgot this," he says, handing her a towel. A towel with the hotel logo. What is she supposed to do with that? There are plenty of them in the closets. She stares at him intensely, arching a brow. Making no move to retrieve the towel.

"Can I come in?" he finally asks after a few seconds.

Without a word, she steps aside, revealing the room, and the bed where Charles is still snoring.

"Wow," Carlos says, walking into the room, laughing. "He's fucking knackered. I might have gone a bit hard on him this afternoon."

"What did you do?" she asks, clearly unamused.

"Nothing special. Made him run a bit." he replies, smirking. "I'm so sorry if you'd planned to finish what you'd started earlier," eyes boring into hers.

"You're a little shit," she says, disappearing into the bathroom.

She thought he would take the hint. Understand that his presence was no longer desired. In the bathroom, she takes off her earrings in front of the mirror, the door to the bedroom wide open, when the Spaniard appears behind her.

"Are you happy with him?" he asks, leaning against the door frame.

"What kind of fucked up question is that?" she snaps, turning to face him.

"A simple one," Carlos says, eyeing her intensely.

"What are you even doing here?" she asks, turning once again to grab her hairbrush from the countertop. "Shouldn't you be fucking your girl or something?"

Her hate-filled sentence makes him pause for a moment, seeking her gaze in the mirror. Faced with his silence, she lifts her head, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

"I had other plans," he states.

"Well, go fuck someone else then," she says, vehemently brushing her hair. She doesn't realize what she's said until the driver presses his chest against her back, gently pinning her against the countertop. She lets go of the brush, holding the surface with both hands, trying to regain composure. His mouth slides along her neck, making her whole body shiver. He's still watching her in the mirror as he gently bites her earlobe with his teeth.

"You're the nastiest person I've ever met," she says, letting a moan escape her lips as the driver slides his hands under her top.

"I've been dreaming of this for years," he says, running his fingers up along her stomach. "Morals be damned."

In the mirror, she casts a glance at Charles, still asleep on the bed. She can't do this. She's not like that. She's never cheated on any of her partners, let alone him. He doesn't deserve that, she thinks, closing her eyes as Carlos licks her neck.

"We can't do this to Charles," she says, panting. "To Rebecca."

"Rebecca will be gone by dawn if you ask," Carlos replies, gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"What about him?" she breathes, eyes sliding down his lips. "I can't do it, Carlos. I love him."

"Do you?" he asks, still holding her chin. "Say it one more time, and I swear I won't kiss you. I'll go back to my room and pretend nothing ever happened. We can even share breakfast in the morning, all four of us."

"I..." she stutters, closing her eyes.

"I'm about to do something incredibly reckless. I just need you to tell me if you're okay with it."

She doesn't reply. She just looks into his eyes, and crosses the distance between them. Their mouths collide violently, and both moan in unison, desperately clinging to each other. Her hands get lost in his hair, running along his scalp before pulling at the roots, eliciting a growl from him. He kisses her, biting her lips, encircling her face with his hands. His hands. His hands are everywhere. In her hair, on her back, on her butt. She feels like he's touching her everywhere at once, and his touch... His touch is burning, awakening things she's never felt. With anyone. She feels like molten lava. Like electricity.

He doesn't waste a second. He's too scared she'll snap out of it, change her mind. In one swift motion of the arm, he picks her up, sitting her down on the countertop, spreading her legs with his own body. His lips never leave her : he's exploring her neck, her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, anything to get a taste of her.

He's afraid that he'll only have her that one time. That he'll have to live forever in the memory of that night. So he memorizes everything. The beauty mark at the corner of her mouth. The one on her neck. The fine white scar above her eyebrow. The tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the ones she earned through years of hearty laughter. He sniffs her, almost like an animal, absorbing her perfume until his head spins. He's so desperate, so pathetic for her, and he would probably be embarrassed by his own behavior if she weren't doing the same on her side. Her fingers trace every vein in his arms, every muscle in his back. She runs her tongue over his teeth, bites his lips, tugs at his hair as if she wanted to keep a lock of it in a necklace.

So far, they had just been kissing. Something she would have a very hard time justifying to Charles, but which could be ruled as a... distasteful accident. But as Carlos grabs her top, making her raise her arms in the air to take it off, immediately going for her breasts, she knows it's too late. That there will be no turning back. She's panting now, and over the shoulder of the Spaniard, as his mouth finds one of her nipples, she steals a glance at her boyfriend. Sound asleep. Unaware.

Carlos continues his descent, lower and lower, tracing a path with his tongue from her breasts to her belly button and down to her lower abdomen. Urgently, almost savagely, he tears off her floral skirt and her thong with both hands in one harsh movement, throwing them on the floor. He's been so impatient, so hurried all this time that when he finally kneels before her, her entire body tenses, bracing for impact.

But the impact doesn't happen.

Not yet. Carlos softly plants kisses on her pubic mound. On the insides of her thighs. On her knees. Anywhere but where she needs him the most.

"Please," she begs, breathless. "Please don't make me wait."

"I've been waiting for four years," he replies, looking at her through his long lashes, amber eyes diving into hers, "You'll survive a few more seconds."

When his mouth finally meets her core, she tilts her head back, moaning. He's slow. So deliberately slow. For years, she's driven him crazy, obsessing over every thought of hers. His revenge is childish. Immature. He's not proud of it, but he wants to drive her insane. To see her lose her mind because of him, just for once. She's having none of it, bucking her hips until his nose gets lost in her folds and finally, he snaps. Grabbing her by the ass, he brings her impossibly closer, lapping, nibbling, biting, even. Her back is pressed against the mirror, one leg over his shoulder, the other hanging down. She's closing her eyes, covering her mouth. Her moans. Praying that Charles hears nothing. Sees nothing.

With the tips of her toes, she finds his groin. Her touch is so soft. Barely there. His response is immediate, and she feels his growl reverberate through her entire core. Continuing his assault, his fingers join his mouth as he circles her clit before inserting one inside of her. Then two. He's watching her, somehow getting harder every time she moans, every time she tugs at his hair.

"I need you," she says between two breaths. "I don't know how much time we have, and I... I need to feel you inside."

He could have passed out right here, just hearing those words leave her lips. He rises, capturing her lips again, while she takes hold of his t-shirt, stripping it off. And then, they hug. Their skins are burning with desire, but there's nothing sexual here. For a few seconds, they stay like that, absolutely silent. Clinging to each other. The embrace tears them both apart. It's almost violent, suffocating, the way all those what's ifs, we could haves and others if only we'd knowns fill the room in those few seconds. The hug is heavy with things that'll never be. Things that'll never leave this embrace. This room. Feeling something wet reach his shoulder, Carlos pulls back. She's crying.

He seizes her lips again, yet this kiss feels so different from the previous ones. It's no longer a kiss of lust, of desire. It's a farewell kiss. He knows it. She knows it too.

Her hands crawl along his chest until they reach the button of his pants, which she pops open with a flick of expert fingers. He helps her remove the garment, which also falls to the ground, along with all the others. In this room, in this Cuban hotel, they are finally completely naked, pressed against each other. He kisses her again, intoxicated by her, her scent, her taste, while his hand finds his cock, stroking it gently. He's so lost in her, he almost doesn't notice her own hand chasing his, stroking him softly. And then, in a new kiss, he presses against her before entering her.

For a few moments, neither of them moves. He, concentrating like never before to not finish there and now. She, accepting the idea that another man than Charles has taken her, and that nothing will ever be the same again. Charles, she thinks, glancing towards the bedroom where her boyfriend has turned over, still asleep, but facing them. He's so close. So close to opening an eye and seeing his girlfriend and his teammate pressed against each other, forehead to forehead. Skin to skin. She's still looking at Charles when Carlos begins to move inside her, holding her tightly in his arms, pressing their chests together in an incredibly sensual motion.

"Tell me what you like. Tell me anything and I'll do it," he says, thrusting softly into her. "I want you to remember this. To remember me."

"I want you to make love to me as if I were yours."

It stings. It stings so fucking much, because the phrase reminds him that she doesn't belong to him. It stings because she's not entirely Charles' anymore, yet she'll never be entirely his either. From this night on, she'll be condemned to wander between them, to float between their desires, their loves. No matter how tightly he holds onto her, no matter how tight she feels around him, he'll never call her his. He obeys nevertheless, quickening his pace, capturing her lips.

His movements are precise, surgical. He feels her contracting around him, and the sensation drives him wild. Her hands are around his neck, seeking balance, support. His pace intensifies even more when he realizes something.

"Say my name," he asks, panting.

She knows why he asks for it, why he needs to hear it, so she doesn't question him.

"Carlos," she says, kissing him. "You're making me feel so good."

And it's true. In a way, it has nothing to do with his movements, with his skills as a lover. All those that he very surely possesses, but are only secondary tonight. It goes beyond that. It's about their connection. With each thrust, Carlos floods her with love, adoration, longing, with so many sensations that leave her feeling deliciously overwhelmed. He doesn't need to say it. Yet, in one thrust, one harsher than the others, he does.

"I love you", he breathes against her skin.

"I know," she says, holding his jaw with one hand, making him look at her, their lips brushing. "I've loved you all this time," she whispers back.

Her revelation must unlock something within him because suddenly, he lifts her, pressing her against the bathroom wall opposite from the sink, as she lets out a surprised cry, feeling him deeper than before. His thrusts resume, stronger, more aggressive. It's a good thing he's holding her as if his life depended on it, because everything is too much : the sensation of his body against hers, their feelings laid bare, the sounds he makes... Her head suddenly feels light, and she rests it in the crook of his neck as he continues to take her so deliciously.

She comes back to herself when she feels something stir in the pit of her stomach, something that takes her breath away.

"Carlos..." she starts.

"Tell me, baby," he replies, biting her ear. "Tell me everything."

"I'm feeling... I don't know... I'm feeling so, so good" she says, incoherent.

"Are you close?" he asks, still pouding into her.

"I've never felt anything like this," she says, panting. "Anything like you."

Then, everything explodes.

She can't hold back her scream, not caring about anything anymore, not even Charles, a few feet away. She's clinging to her lover, scratching his back. Trying to catch her breath. She clenches around him so tightly that he loses control, spilling into her in three thrusts, grunting.

"Give it to me, Carlos," she says. "I can take it. I can take you."

"Mi amor," he says, out of breath. "You're killing me," he adds, still thrusting into her, shooting some more ropes of cum into her cunt while groaning. "Te amo, te amo, te amo," he says, kissing her face.

The two bodies collapse on the floor, against the wall, nestled together in the intimacy of the small bathroom. She shivers, and he grabs a towel to wrap around her. Neither of them says a word. What is there to say, after all? Here, between these four tiled walls, they've already said everything. Shown everything. They've never been closer to each other. They've never been closer to anyone else. They'll probably never experience something like that ever again.

A few steps away from them, a sound of crumpled bedding alerts both of them.

"Babe?" comes Charles' sleepy voice, as their blood turn cold and she rises up impossibly fast to close the bathroom door, wobbling a bit, legs still weak after her orgasm.

"Go back to sleep, baby", she says loudly. "I'm just taking a shower."

There's no response, so after a few seconds, she opens the door again, seeing that Charles has fallen back asleep. Mouth slightly open.

"You have to go," she states, turning back to face Carlos, still sitting on the floor. Carlos stands up, and both of them dress in a heavy silence before quietly tip-toeing across the room. Once in the empty hallway, she gently closes the door of the room she shares with her boyfriend before letting out a breath. He knows what's coming. Something breaks in his eyes, and she feels her heart shatter.

"I meant everything," she says, head low. "I meant every word, every kiss. I'll forever regret the night we just shared, but not in the way you might think. I will regret for the rest of my life ever experimenting this happiness with you and having to let go of it. I love you, Carlos, like I've never loved anyone. That's why we shouldn't see each other again."

His dark eyes bore into hers, almost threateningly.

"Why?" he asks, raising his voice, and she winces, terrified that, on the other side of the door, Charles might wake up again. "Why stop yourself from being happy? Why give up on me?"

"I found a ring," she confesses, struggling to meet his gaze. "In his suitcase. He's going to propose to me, Carlos."

"If that's what it takes to have you forever, let me do it before him," he says, dropping to one knee as she looks away, tears welling up in her eyes. One more thing he'll have taken from Charles, she thinks. He'll forever be the first man to ever kneel before me. And he'll never even know this.

"Please, get up," she says, her voice trembling with a sob.

He does, and when he looks at her again, his eyes are filled with tears.

"Good night, Carlos," she says, taking a step back, holding the door knob to her room. She's gone in an instant, leaving him alone in the poorly lit hallway at half past three in the morning. Her scent all over his skin, her words all over his mind, her grip all over his heart.

[short-honey-badger]

Trouble Sleeping 2

Alright. This took me a while to get together. I got into a pretty big slump over the weekend that made it hard to do much of anything.

Anyway. I kept things vague, and I'll probably leave the rest up to your imagination. If anyone is interested, feel free to use this as a basis for your own works! Anyway. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Alpha Law x Omega Reader

Warnings! ABO universe. Some smut, kissing, and little pregnancy things? Reader gives birth, but it isn't graphic.

Masterlist

Part 1

Law wakes early on the day he is to leave back to the new world, scent wrapping around his cute little mate as he cracks his eyes open. The familiar ceiling of his room greets him, but he rolls to bury his face in the back of your neck to block out the sight. He greedily breathes in syrup sweet honeysuckle, one hand raising to settle on your hip and then slides around to cup the gentle swell of your stomach, content growl breaking rumbling through his throat when you shift to press back into him.

A year after he'd taken you to bed, your scheduled heat had come along, and even with his own suppressants, it had sent him into rut. A week later, you came out of your locked bedroom with a bite mark still tingling on your neck and most likely pregnant. Your worries were confirmed when a month later, your scent began to change, and your omega instincts screamed at you to find a proper nest even that early in your pregnancy.

Trafalgar had panicked the second he realized what he'd done that night, but with the two of you still tangled together, he had no choice but to accept his actions. A healthy alpha and omega in their respective reproductive stages were more than likely to have a pup after coupling. Especially if a bond is initiated during the knotting process.

As a medical practitioner yourself, you already knew of the consequences of your actions, but you didn't regret anything. Your Captain had been the one to pick you up and offer you a spot in his crew. He was everything to you, so what was a little more?

“T’falgar,” you whispered after Law had apologized over and over. You could feel his tears on the back of your neck and you gripped his hands as hard as you could, fingers curling tightly around the pirate's tattooed knuckles, “Law I love you, and I ain't goin’ anywhere.”

Law had stalled out, his brain already mush from heat and pheromones. He cleared his throat, voice thick with unshed tears and emotions, and asked you to repeat yourself. That night, you told your alpha exactly how much he meant to you, telling him over and over how you loved him, and whispered sweet praises until the overwhelmed Law had begged you to stop.

Still worried, but more happy than anything, Law had quietly told you that he loved you too and swore to protect you and their pup whenever it came into the world. Elated, you'd cried yourself to sleep until his rut had kicked back in a couple of hours later.

You whining breaks Law from his thoughts, and he kicks up his growl, chest rumbling loud enough that you can feel him vibrating against your back. He sneaks his hand down your belly, fingers tapping against the sensitive flesh of your hip and causing you to shiver. Your scent, sweet honeysuckle, but warm with the intoxicating rose and clean citrus now interlinked never failed to bring out the carnal side of the alpha.

Trafalgar is nosing the back of your neck, steel scent thick in the air, as he presses a kiss to the bite mark that seals his bond with you. He feels your hands find his own, and they curled tight around his knuckles. Law isn't expecting the sudden distress that suddenly permeates the room.

“Law,” his heart aches the way you say his name. Your usual soft mellow tone was replaced by one of choked desperation, “I need you ta come back to me, okay? I need you. They need you. I don't think I can do it without you.”

The alpha hated the way your scent sours in the air, and Law grips your hands back, curling his lanky frame over yours and tucking you into his chest, “I promised you I'd be back, right? I'm not going to break that.”

Law surrounds you on all sides, scent coiling and soothing the distressed omega in his arms, “You've got nothing to worry about, I'll be back in time to be there, and even if I can't be, I know that you will be able to handle it. You're stronger than you think.”

You sniff harshly, and press your body back into your alpha, seeking his comfort, “You better not, Law. I'll have Bepo tan your hide if ya do.”

The pirate captain snickers quietly and then places soft kisses to the side of your neck, teeth nipping his old bite mark and causing you to sigh in pleasure.

“I will let him if I break our promise, little Medic,” Trafalgar rumbles, and his hands loosen around yourself, his practiced fingers splaying across your flesh. He breathes you in and his cock sirs against your backside when he catches a whiff of heady omegan slick. Your hand catches his wrist and you lead it down to where you are dripping between your legs, whining sweetly when Law's fingers find your clit and begin to massage the bundle of nerves.

“I love you,_-ya,” Law whispers, and both of you can hear the urgency in his voice. He needs this. He needs you one more time before he is gone for the next few months, “Let me take care of you.”

You nod, mind ready cloudy with lust and thick alpha pheromones that Law hasn't stopped pumping into the air. He wants you so saturated with his scent that no matter how long he was gone, no one would question who you belonged to. Who your mate is.

His fingers slide through your puffy folds, and Law groans when he already finds you wet, allowing his fingers to glide effortlessly. His middle finger finds your hole, and he rubs against your twitching cunt, playing and teasing you before he sinks his finger down to the knuckle. You toss your head back, a heavy sigh escaping you when Law sets a steady rhythm.

The alpha's thumb finds your clit, and the duel sensations have you twitching and coming with a soft cry of his name. Law doesn't let up, adding another finger to your wet heat and stretching you for his cock. His free hand finds your leg, and he carefully shifts it up and opens you up for better access.

Trafalgar ruts forward, and he snarls lowly when his cock slides between your legs, rubbing against your folds and soaking his cock in your slick.

“Law,” you murmur, voice thick with want and desperation, “Law, please.”

Your alpha hushes you, extracting his fingers and grabbing the base of his cock. he squeezes himself, and then angles up and hisses as he sinks into your crushing walls. You are tight, and Law has to fight back the urge to roll you over and fuck you raw. Instead, he settles for a slow grind, more cock warming than anything, but it still sets his teeth on edge and has you whining for more.

“I ain't gonna break, Law,” you snarl when the slow grind just isn't enough. You want to feel your alpha, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Law doesn't mean to be so rough with you when he pulls out and rolls you to your knees. He slides a pillow under your hips to keep you off your heavy stomach, and then he is gripping his cock and slamming back inside of you with a howl.

You yowl under him, hips pressing back to meet him thrust for thrust. The way his dick drags along your fluttering walls feels like perfection, and it doesn't take much more for you to come again.

Your alpha drags another two orgasms out of you before his knot begins to catch too much for him to fully pull out. He humps into you, grinding up and draping himself across your back to nibble at the bite mark.

“Gonna come soon,” Law warns but you can only nod, too fucked out and gone to pay too much attention to him. You cry out when he sinks his teeth into your scent gland, deepening and darkening the mark he'd left behind. His knot inflates, locking the two of you in place as he paints your insides while with hot cum.

You groan at the feeling, feeling stuffed full and satisfied from the lovemaking. Law gathers you close, rolling to his side and cradling you to his chest again. It's the best position for now, and it's a good ten minutes before Law can slip out of your puffy pussy. He watches as cum leaks from your hole, smirking at the sight of the combined juices before reaching forward to rub the mess into the skin of your thighs.

His actions make you huff, but a content purr has started up in your chest, and you can't be mad at his actions. Not when you enjoy the sight of such a strong and influential alpha who wanted your attention and wanted the world to know who he belonged to.

However, today could not be spent laying around like the two of you wanted. It takes time, but Law eventually extracts himself to go start the shower. He helps you from the bed and scrubs your back and legs. He likes to help you wash. It's the perfect excuse for him to keep his hands on your lovely skin.

Once dressed, the two of you leave the Polar Tang, two thick bags packed with your favorite blankets and pillows. All the things you would need to try and remake your nest were carefully packed away, and Law pulled you in for a tight hug when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“You know I wouldn't go if I could help it, right?” He asks you as he wraps his clean, steel laced scent around you. Trafalgar feels you nod against his shoulder, but you are still shaking, so he tightens his grip and presses his lips to your hair.

“I know. I'll just miss you, Law,” you whisper and clutch at the black cloak he has tossed over his shoulders. Time was counting down. You bury your face in his chest, tears welling up and spilling over without your say, so, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Law whispers and breathes you in. He doesn't want to go, but he needs to, and so he reluctantly pulls away and helps you gather your bags.

Sachin, Penguin, and Bepo follow the two of you out, and the other members of the Heart Pirates pull you in for a hug and a tearful farewell for now. Bepo is crying, big tears running down the mink’s face.

Amazon Lily is just as lush and beautiful as Law remembers, and he dips his head in a grateful nod when he catches sight of the Elder. Luffy hadn't thought twice about asking Boa Hancock if you could stay on the island while he, Law. And Kid sailed off to Wano. Boa had folded instantly on Luffy's whim, but it wasn't like the tribe would have turned away a pregnant omega in need.

The two snake warriors helpfully take your bags back to the palace, and the others turn away from the mated pair when a sob breaks through your walls. You cry against him, hormones and emotions running wild in the face of Law leaving you. It hadn't felt real until now. The alpha soothes you the best he can, but you are still crying when Trafalgar pulls away. He wipes your face and brings you in for a kiss.

“I'll be back before you know it,” Law murmurs against your lips, and then he is extracting himself from your arms, “I have to go.”

“Kick their ass, Cap’n,” you tell him, and then you are watching Law walk away from you, back to the Polar Tang to go fight against two Emperors.

—--after Wano—----

Law runs, the panic making it hard for him to use his devil fruit and just teleport to your side. He can hear you screaming from here, throat gone raw from how much you've worked it. He skids around a corner, sprinting past the Kuja Women until he finally reaches the healing rooms. He bursts inside, and immediately, he is drenched in your scent.

Your eyes fly open the moment he is by your side, nostrils flaring, and you jerk your head to the side to see your alpha by your side, “You're late!”

Law laughs, tears coming to his eyes as he leans in to pull you in for a kiss. He was late, but a storm had swooped in and made traveling difficult for a couple of days. His instincts scream at him when you yowl again, pain and frustration etched across your face when the midwife between your legs urges you to push again.

With the alpha there to ease your stress and coat you in his familiar scent, the birthing process goes much smoother. The first baby enters the world with such a soul screech that Law wonders if she is part bird. The midwives clean up the infant, though Trafalgar steps in when you urge him with a low whine. You want the sire of your pups to know his children. They have been so active lately that it pains you to know how much Law had missed while gone.

Law takes the baby, gazing down at the scrunched, red face, and finds himself breaking and falling head over heels for the tiny bundle in his arms. His daughter glares up at him, and he smirks at seeing his attitude already swimming in her delicate features.

You snarling again has Law giving you his attention again, and he goes to your side so that you can see their daughter. You smile through the pain, feeling relief and pride at seeing the tiny person in your alpha's arms. You push again, sweat pouring down your brow and staining the sheets.

The other baby, this one a boy, hardly makes any sound, only crying softly when the midwife pats his back to make sure he is breathing properly. Once cleaned, the Kuja doctor places your son in your arms and then leaves to give you and Law some privacy for a moment. They would be back later to see to your care, but Law would more than likely take over now that he was back.

The twins look more like their father. Both with dark hair and even darker eyes that seem to stare straight through you. You slowly scoot over, wincing when it causes discomfort, but you'd be damned if you could have your family close to you. Law takes the hint and slides into bed with you, and you gratefully lean against him. Tears sprout, and you don't stop them from leaking down your face. The past week has been so hard, and you are elated that your alpha has finally come back to you.

Your son whines, and you look down at him with a soft, love filled look, one that matches the one on Law's face when he looks at his daughter.

“You name them,” you whisper quietly and nose against his arm. You speak up again before Law can protest, “I want you too. I thought about it a lot while you were gone. It's what I want.”

Law licks his lips. The two of you have spoken about names before, and though tentative, the Heart Pirate Captain had a name he'd like to use.

“Roseinette,” Law whispers and noses at his daughter, who still scowls up at her father like he'd been the one to wrong her. He smirks at the baby and then gives his son his attention, carefully reaching over to stroke a finger down the slope of his little nose. His son gives him a look of curiosity before closing his eyes and slipping off to sleep, “Corazon. Cora-ya for short.”

You smile, turning to nose against Law, your scent leveling out to sweet honeysuckle, lined with the smell of steel, roses, and clean citrus. The scent of your family.

You are so proud of your Alpha. You know it's hard for him whenever he speaks about his late father figure. You kiss his bicep, “I think he'd be proud of you, Law. He'd want you to be happy.”

Law feels his eyes well up, and tilts his head back to prevent the tears from escaping, though it does little good when he hears your tired voice speak up again, “I wish he could have met them.”

His throat is right when he nods, and you surround your alpha with your scent when you smell his grief. The tears fall, and his voice is thick with pain, “Me too, _-ya. Cora would have loved you.”

You stay quiet but supportive until Trafalgar sniffs and wipes at his face. You needed him right now, not the other way around. Plus, the twins needed to be checked out.

Before he stands, your alpha pulls you in for a much needed kiss, and he pours all of his love into it, never knowing how much he would have missed kissing you. The kiss is cut short when Roseinette begins to cry, and Law pulls away and climbs out of the too small bed. He clears his throat.

“I should check the twins out. Then we need to see if they'll latch. I'm sure they are hungry,” Law explains, and you nod easily, not about to complain about letting your alpha take care of what needs to be done.

After a quick examination, it turned out the twins were indeed hungry and didn't have any problems latching. You squirm with a frown, the feeling foreign and odd. With the twins distracted, Law gives you his full attention, leaning down to press his lips to your brow.

“I need to check you too. Omegas heal fast after birth, but I don't want to risk it.”

This examination takes much less time, though it's odd to have Trafalgar between your legs for medical reasons. He tells you that there is some tearing and offers to do some stitching, and you agree. It's weird and a bit painful, but it's fine in the end, but by the end of it all, you are exhausted. Law pets your hair and gathers the twins who have fallen asleep after nursing. He lays them down together, though separately swaddled in the bassinet that's been prepared.

Law comes to your side, sitting on the bed and taking your hands in his own. You tangle your fingers with his, sliding over his tattooed knuckles, “You kept your promise.”

Trafalgar hums, tugs your hands up to kiss your wrist, and then rubs his jaw along the sensitive skin there, scenting you.

“Told you I would,” He drawls quietly. Law doesn't want to be that far away from you for that longer ever again. Wano had taken a lot out of everyone, and he was glad to be home. His pups are safe right beside him, and little in the world could ruin his delighted mood. However, one thing did bother him.

Cora had been the only father figure that Law could really remember, and even with the man's good intentions and the way he protected Law until the very end, Trafalgar still ended up an orphan. So, how was he supposed to be a father?

[chahnniesroom]

welcome to chahnniesroom!

[masterlist]

tenderness - chan x reader | angst | 50k

in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don't know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

some loves - chan x reader | angst/fluff | 6.9k

some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

hoju (home) - chan x reader | fluff | 4.3k

even though chan has been living in korea for so many years, he still considers australia to be home. when he finally has the opportunity to go back and visit, he can't wait to bring you along and introduce you to the people and places that he grew up with.

cross my heart - chan & reader / hyunjin & reader | angst | 4.0k

chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

night again - chan x reader | angst | 6.4k

in hindsight, visiting chan's studio right before a comeback isn't one of your best ideas. what was supposed to be a pleasant surprise leaves you spiraling into self-doubt, wondering if chan even wants to be in a relationship with you at all.

coming up roses - chan x reader | angst/fluff | 10.2k

most of the time, you're grateful to have such a good relationship with your older brother, minho. but when you find yourself falling for his best friend, chan, you can't help but be worried how he'll react when he finds out. you soon find yourself struggling with the unexpected consequences of keeping your feelings a secret.

till death do us part (collection)

to have and to hold - chan x reader | fluff | 1.4k you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

from this day forward - hyunjin x reader | fluff | 1.7k hyunjin and you have a tradition of trying to surprise each other with little things. he's a bad liar, but you love him all the same.

for better, for worse pt 1 / pt 2 - minho x reader | angst | 3.5k an arranged marriage is anything but ideal. minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he's lacking, but you haven't exactly been the perfect wife either. a phone call from you leads to a shift in priorities.

for richer, for poorer - chan x reader | angst/fluff | 3.4k

gift giving has always been something you’ve agonised over. for chan, just having you in his life is enough.

in sickness and in health - seungmin x reader | fluff | 2.1k you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.

to love and to cherish

[tba]

taglist: please reply to this post, dm me, or send in a question if you'd like to be added! i have a permanent taglist and one for the till death do us part collection so please specify which you would like. i plan to schedule my posts so there may be a few hours of delay for when everyone is tagged.

also, i am so sorry if i respond late to comments/messages. i try my best to be timely in replying, but sometimes get overwhelmed or forget. please know that i love and really treasure every like/reblog/comment/ask/message that i receive!!!

i have a skz fic rec sideblog! find me at @missedyoualittletoomuch

[astroariska]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATION [Chapter 5] ✨ - The North Node Version

North node represent the new growth we are heading into. So it's very normal if you feel like you are uncomfortable to do everything related your north node chart.

But when you did it, your life starts to change

Once a Virgo north node started to get their fruits smoothies instead of wine, slow cooked meals instead of takeouts and having their schedule wrapped with yoga and pilates ... I swear it's DONE for y'all!

Virgo North Node need to carefully pick wisely who are worth their help. Because sometimes, people go through shit as their own consequences and yet feels like victimized????

I just want you to know that your Scorpio North Node friends is actually wishing changes in their life. They want change. They know that things supposed to change in order to grow. But what all they get is sometimes annihilation, destruction and even violence and that's not a pleasurable change for them.

Stop telling Scorpio North Node to let it go. They don't need them. Start to ask Scorpio North Node what can they do from the ashes. Transformation is the real fear of this placement. They had no idea if it will work or not and most time, they will feel the sorrow of having no idea is their adaptation to the new things is going to be painful or not.

This is the most underated documentary for Leo North Node. But i think Leo North Node is never about fame and get famous. It's more about strength and in general. Most people forget that Leo is a sign that represent fortitude and only highlighting the part of being "famous" and "taking the center stage" which is not true.

Leo North Node people learn to use all of their mental, physicological and soul power to cope with whatever life has thrown to them. They need to understand they have fight for their right instead giving it away to people (and this is when the fame and luxury come from, from finding what's already yours)

Pisces North Node and the art of letting go. It's not like they are holding into things that makes them uncomfortable. But it's learning that sometimes you can't fix what was broken from the first time. That life is imperfect, flawless and sometimes vague in it's own way and what they need to do is; just keep swimming.

Also, this north node need more sleep than other people. Sleep is the way they will gain productivity and mental clarity. Enough sleep provides them power to do the right things everyday.

Sagittarius North Node and the faith. It's not like they need to stick into one religion. But it's more like they need to hold the higher moral code and standard over a shortcut. Of course, you will outsmart anything. But this life calls your integrity and your morality as human being. Life ask your wisdom. So always be wise.

Sagittarius North Node is also a placeement that speak the law of assumtion and the law of attraction. So, positive mindset is needed because things will manifest easily with positive mind.

Aries North Node, y'all so angry. But what if i told you that life demands your action and not your insight? This is the north node that ask you to be the first who doing the impossible, the first who doing the things that nobody did it in the first place. You know what you need to do, so it takes courage to turn the table.

Aries North Node also have a knack to relieve after ... yes, cursing. Cuss some bomb and shit till it feels easy and lightweight again.

Taurus North Node. This is the most bitter north node that i've encountered because this north node is about self dignity and respect. They need to uproot themselves from what people has taught them to act and start building the strong boundaries and foundation for their own life.

No, Taurus North Node. This is not your time to be the biggest enemy of yourself. Because how people treat you, depends on how you TREAT YOURSELF.

Gemini North Node and equality. They are the type who need to understand that their difference and diversity doesn't mean that someone is in higher or lower class. So treat people equal and treat yourself as equal too. Treat the waitress over the restaurant the same respect like you treat the politician on their office.

Also Gemini North Node. STOP FIGHTING WITH YOUR NEIGBOURS AND BROTHERS/SISTERS. They will unlock you some good things in the future. So stay your COOL.

Capricorn North Node's pressure. In this lifetime, life wants you to be the authority figure of your own, so it's understable that you'll disappointing some people who love you and taken care of you. In turns, you'll see that sometimes loves and cares is form of emotional manipulation to prevent you from the growth you need. Don't get easily swayed by the fake love.

With the most respect. Get your shit together, Capricorn North Node. People tend to manipulate you because they can take adventage from you and rob something from you. Don't let them mess your kindness as a weakness.

Aquarius North Node need to take off some privilege they have in this lifetime and be the one who's responsible for greater duty. Responsibility and duty is unavoidable in this lifetime so make sure you handle them with care and love for humanity (people around you). You can't expect life is pleasure because only through the struggle, you'll understand how pleasure is priceless.

I will give some warning for you, Aquarius North Node. If you still feeding your ego, you'll become the public enemy. I've seen this placement falls down and rise up because their community is wishing them to. Make sure that people only wishing you the best so you could manifest easily.

Libra North Node need for the partnership in this lifetime has nothing to do with being in relationship. But being in the middle of the change. Most people in this north node will make the most life changing decision and partnership helps them to keep relate into the change they have made. Relationship happens when you are in the commitment in the change with someone who willing to helps you through thin and thick. So choosing the right partner means choosing the right person to change and evolve together.

No, Cancer North Node. Being in control and having your guard up doesn't mean success. Success to you is a sense of security to feel whatever you want to feel and everytime you want to feel. Your job, your salary and your social status doesn't define you. It's your warmth, present and personality that roots you deep for who you are that matters the most.

RELEASE YOUR JOB IF YOU ARE UNHAPPY AND UNDERPAID, CANCER NORTH NODE. DROP IT until they found that YOU ARE WORTH THEIR RESPECT.

[pikatsum]

Lights, Camera, Chaos | 1 | Todoroki Shouto / Reader

Summary: You and Shouto are forced to make your first televised appearance as a couple. What starts as an embarrassing invasion of privacy completely upends itself once you realize just how cutthroat the world of reality TV can get.

Tags & Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Quirkless Reader, Pro-Hero Shouto.

Part of the Pretty Boy Summer collab! [cross-posted on ao3]

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Being the partner of a pro-hero was the kind of thing that should really come with an instruction manual. And emblazoned on uncoated paper stock beneath chapter one, the golden rule that nine of ten couples managed to break: keep it on the down-low.

Those who didn’t faced the consequences— particularly civilians.

Their faces were ultimately the ones that got splashed across the front page of every gossip-rag in Japan. They became public pariahs, their names repeated ad nauseam on the news, whispered with glee in hair salons and social clubs. In the story of their life, everything became forfeit to the public— their friends, their profession, their dating history, their homes. All of it.

Now, for nearly three months, you’d been one of them. At the end of the day, that was the noodles’ fault, really.

The summer after culinary school, you’d scored your first full-time role, working as the head chef in a small noodle shop just a few blocks from your college campus, at the edge of the city. The owner, Okuda-san, had been in business for years, but the dreams of grandeur that had brought him to central Mustafau as a young man had long since been struck by reality. Though the quality of his meals had never diminished, he’d vastly scaled back his operations over the last ten years— gone was the opulent restaurant in the center of downtown with its sleek metallic architecture and warm ambient lighting. Gone too was his wife, or so you suspected, based on the mutterings you could pick up from the front office, when business ran slow.

The day you met Shouto, the rain had been coming down in sheets, blurring the windows and filling the reception area with a soothing white-noise as you oversaw reservation bookings, dinner preparations and engaged in a small bit of gossip-gathering on the side. It was that same rain that had led you to warn him about the biodegradable styrofoam that his takeout was packed in, and offer the restaurant’s tiny enclave seating to avoid having his meal ruined by the deluge. You’d shared polite conversation— mostly offering tips for balancing buckwheat dough to make proper soba noodles.

Over time, the street in front of Okuda-san’s little shop had become a well-worn patrol path for Shouto’s agency. Conversations turned to texts, and invitations out with his friends. After an unhealthy amount of pining, you’d finally steeled your nerves enough to ask him on a date— an awkward but effective kickstart to almost two years of the best relationship you’d ever had.

There truly was no protocol for having such an intimate piece of yourself revealed to the public, to millions of your partner’s diehard fans. There weren’t words to describe the moment you first laid eyes on the incriminating photo that had started all of this: the two of you, sharing a kiss on the way up to your apartment. Your longing, exacerbated by Shouto’s tedious travel schedule had faced off against your building’s perpetually-slow elevator doors and came up short.

One grainy picture, posted to one account incited a slew of Internet detectives, stealing your anonymity in a matter of hours.

At the very least, you’d been blissfully unaware at first— overlooking the increasing stares from the diners at Okuda-san’s, and glossing over the fact that the cab driver knew your name on the way home. You’d remained blissfully ignorant up until arriving home to find Shouto on the doorstep, still in his costume. He’d quickly shepherded you up to your apartment and barricaded the door. In full pro-hero mode, he’d guided you through the essentials to pack in a duffel bag, and then quickly brought you back to his, to wait out the full extent of the madness.

The worst of it was concentrated in that first two weeks. You’d been unable to turn on the TV without hearing the diminutive nickname the media had chosen for you— “Noodle Legs”— coupled with the same clip of Shouto guiding you up the steps into his high-rise building, over and over. Unfortunately, your legs had been wobbling, as the full magnitude of what was happening had finally begun to set in. In those first days, you’d sequestered yourself in the guest room with the blinds drawn, the drone of the TV only semi-effective against the catastrophizing taking place in your mind.

The public had judged your relationship with Shouto and you clearly had not met expectations. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Even a decade on from the war that had rewritten the operations of superhuman society, competent wasn’t a word that paired well with Quirkless.

As the media storm raged, you had never seen Shouto so upset. In the first few days, his schedule was particularly erratic, his whereabouts always announced by text and sticky notes left on your door, or the bathroom mirror in tight, neat script. Often, he was out amidst the public, speaking to media outlets on his own, trying to stem the influx of public opinion about you that had become the nation’s topic de jour. As you slowly began to emerge from your cocoon of solitude, you saw just how oppositely this ordeal was affecting him.

When he was home, Shouto paced, relentlessly. He completed a book of Sudoku puzzles as you absently cooked enough udon to feed a small army— or at least four of his pro-hero friends. Each night, he scarcely settle in on the couch next to you before noticing a stray sock or a flickering lightbulb, some small thing to put right. Nothing was enough, anymore, and even as you asked him to come to bed— his bed— he only ever seemed to sleep on the couch, if at all.

After nearly a week, his mania and your melancholy finally collided, spectacularly. You could still remember the whisper of the paper against the hardwood, as it slid under the bedroom door, late that night. Nearly two pages offered a handwritten letter apologizing for the upheaval of your entire life, and his absence in the aftermath. The third carefully recorded the plan he’d been building to mitigate the fallout, mentioning the friends he’d enlisted to help him and proposed ideas for a manufactured scandal, enough to take the limelight off you. That moment of shade, he argued, would allow you to distance yourself.

“I promise to help you establish a future that will make you happy.” the letter concluded, “And I understand, if that future no longer includes me.”

It was carefully-worded, largely self removed and so quintessentially Shouto that it nearly broke you all over again. Not much about your future was determined that night, apart from one, indelible truth: you didn’t want a future without Shouto in it. If that meant you’d have to face the public— the cameras and opinions and bigotry— so be it.

You’d casually perused enough gossip magazines to know the general strategies that hero & civilian relationships used, publicly. Some couples went on luxurious (sponsored) vacations, their devotion shamelessly showcased through glossy magazine spreads and corny ‘What’s in Our Suitcase?’ Q&As. Others used their moment in the limelight to launch one partner’s passion project — a private art studio, a taproom, a crossfit gym— often trendy, always overcrowded and never necessary public infrastructure.

The rest wrote memoirs. So. Many. Memoirs. You’d just finished “Catching the Copycat. — How I Fell in Love with Phantom Thief” earlier that month, and it wasn’t half bad. Amidst the unending slew of public attention and the realization that you were going to have to market yourself somehow, the idea of writing a novel was contenting. At the very least, your partner’s versatile Quirk meant there was no end to the pithy puns you could come up with for a title.

And then, Shouto’s PR team put out a press release announcing that the two of you would be starring in the next episode of Split Shift— the Hero Network’s one and only reality television program.

‘Think you’ve got what it takes to be a hero? Think again!” announced its pithy tagline, in the promotional packet,’ Each week, Split Shift lets its viewers experience a day in the life of the nation’s top defenders, exposing their personal sides, through the eyes of their inner circle!.’

The two of you had tried to fight it. Oh, how you had tried, your combined efforts quickly spawning endless hours of email chains. But Shouto’s public relations team was relentless— apparently, the clamor of the public for more details, photos, evidence of your leaked relationship was stronger than any villain in the known universe. And without it, they warned, Shouto’s rank in the heroics charts was severely at risk.

“I’m sure you’re aware,” Omori Mika, Shouto’s head of PR, explained, fingers flying across her keyboard as a window of metrics popped up, “a significant portion of Shouto’s fanbase finds him anywhere from “considerably” to “highly” attractive. Early this year, he dethroned Best Jeanist to win Quirk’d Magazines’ “Hottest Hero Alive.”

“Oh, yes— well deserved.” you nodded, sparing a glance to your own well-loved copy, resting on the coffee table. The cover-shot had really captured his intensity, the haunting contrast of his heterochromatic gaze in low lighting.

From the other side of the couch, Shouto cleared his throat, and you found yourself impishly delighted by the fact that he refused to meet your eyes.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because that faction in particular wants to know — why her?” Mika made a brief gesture towards you as she expounded, “Why, out of every person in the nation— the world, even— why is she the one you chose?”

Shouto blinked, glancing between you and the laptop.

“Do they want a list? I’d have to ask Midoriya for—“

“—evidence is the name of the game, Shouto.” Mika broke in, “Photos, maybe, but what people really want is footage.”

“Footage that we have to get by being publicly humiliated, got it.” you sighed.

A notch appeared between Mika’s perfectly- plucked eyebrows.

“I know you’re both unhappy about the booking, but the Hero Network is the best platform to showcase Shouto’s capabilities. The nature of the show won’t just remind people why they trust him— it’ll show that he’s chosen a capable and resourceful partner, as well.”

You flushed and averted your gaze. Capable and resourceful were just about the last things that you were feeling, at the moment.

“And honestly, Split Shift is tame in comparison to some of the shows that have been asking for you.” Mika began to flip through her color-coded planner, “Let’s see… Quirktastrophe, Save my Love Life… oh, you’re lucky we didn’t put you on Zero to Hero, I hear that host is a real piece of work, off-camera…”

“Message received.” Shouto intoned, cutting off the diatribe. You moved your legs enough to allow him to scoot over, leaning forward to minimize the chat window and zoom in on a contractual document, written in a font size in the single-digits. He met your eyes

You took a deep breath and sealed your fates with a nod.

“Where do we sign?”

The devil worked hard, but apparently the scheduling team for Split Shift worked harder. Less than a week later, the two of you were arriving at the studio at the crack of dawn, for what promised to be a grueling day of filming. The process began two blocks before the filming lot, a two-man crew driving out to meet in an adjacent parking lot. You and Shouto were each asked to step out of the car in order to have a microphone pack strapped and secured beneath your clothing. They also hooked a small portable camera to the dashboard, to “capture your authentic reactions to arriving on-set.”

In a mutual act of defiance, you and Shouto remained dead-silent for the remaining two blocks. It was a welcome respite, especially given that it seemed those silences would be few and far between for the rest of the day.

Two steps out of the car and you were being accosted by a human gale-force. She arrived in a cloud of cherry-scented perfume, and wasted no time in handing over the two smoothies she was carrying. The badge pinned smartly to her dark blazer read “Noujuu Yōko”.

You’d just barely opened your mouth to offer a ‘thank you’, but the woman barely spared a glance before she turned and circled a finger in the air to follow.

“You’re seven minutes late.”

“Your crew was delayed and there were a number of road closures en route.” Shouto fell in line, his cooler hand lacing with your free one, “We weren’t—“

“—I sent a reminder email at 2:45 AM with these details. Your coordinator should have shared them.”

You watched as a notch appeared in your partner’s brow, a subtle display of his annoyance. Before he could retort, you broke in with a small laugh that felt as awkward and forced as it sounded.

“Sorry about that.” you said, “This is all… very new.”

You didn’t receive a response, nor at this point were you particularly expecting one. Avoiding the wires criss-crossing the asphalt while keeping up with her brisk pace was taking enough effort, anyways. Unfortunately, an experimental sip of the smoothie in your hand revealed that it tasted like chalk.

“Don’t feel the need to apologize.” Shouto murmured, as you slowed your pace. This close, notes of mint and jasmine stood out in his cologne as he leaned over to murmur to you, “She’s just high-strung. They can film and record as they like, now— I’ve already seen a camera following us, from the right. They’re looking for reactions.”

“So, no public meltdowns— got it.” you smiled weakly, a chill going up your spine at the prospect of indirectly being ‘on-air’.

Yōko led the way back to the first of the sound stages as she explained that Split Shift was filmed in a “psychologically-backed” sequence. The core of that process was candid footage, occasionally guided by interviews.

“You’ll be interviewing throughout the day, both separately and together.” she explained, at the door, “At midday, we’ll have a thirty-minute lunch, and a touch-up with hair and makeup. The afternoon will then be dedicated to wrapping up the heroics case.”

“The… what?” you asked, glancing at Shouto, “Is there something you’re supposed to look into?”

“Not that I am aware of.” Shouto said, “Although I assume, based on the increasing number of cameras that have tracked us here, that this is meant to be some kind of dramatic twist.”

It took you a moment to begin to spot them— angled around corners, hidden in the shrubbery and eaves of the soundstage. There was even a drone flying overhead, high up enough to muffle the whine of its motors. Apprehension bloomed in your chest, counting at least fifteen cameras, knowing there were likely more.

The tone Shouto adopted was pure apathy— but you knew it as a defense mechanism, to hide the anger he hated to show.

“Is there a particular direction you’d like us to face, to express our shock?” he said.

Yōko’s chartreuse eyes narrowed in a silent declaration of war.

“This way will be fine.”

In the next instant, a loud metallic screech made you jump. Whirling around, you realized that the garage door of the warehouse was opening, and although you couldn’t see much through the gloom, the sun’s rays did catch off another two camera lenses, at least.

“We’ve made a few changes on set.” Yōko had to raise her voice to speak over the shuffle of the film crew as they filled in the space, the descending screech of the drone, “Audiences used to prefer viewing the world of heroes at street-level, through the eyes of those they loved most. Now, they want to experience it, for themselves.”

You weren’t looking at her, though, or any of the multitudes of cameras. Instead, your gaze was focused on the mannequin angled in the center of the sound stage, and dressed in a disconcerting blend of lycra and tactical gear— specifically an all-too-familiar vest and utility belt.

Yōko’s voice rang out behind you, sending a chill up your spine as the full scope of what you had gotten yourself into began to click into place.

“So, [Last Name] [First Name]. Are you ready to become a hero?”