#Also I can't come up with a first name for him if my life depended on it

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[ysobelfours]

Lando's First Win — LN4

in which your boyfriend won a grand prix for the first time in his career.

lando norris x fem!reader

warnings; 18+ content !! MINORS DNI !! half of the story is SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), clubbing, drunk lando, praise, hair pulling, oral both receiving, and etc. word count: 3978

note: not proofread, not edited, will maybe; also, this oneshot has no mentions of y/n!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i was glued to the tv, watching the race like my life depended on it. man, i wish i could've been there in person, but nope, some last-minute work drama had me stuck at home. so there i was, heart pounding like crazy as i saw lando leading the pack, holding onto that sweet p1 spot with just 10 laps to go.

after a nail-biting ten laps, lando clinched his first-ever grand prix win in miami, crossing the checkered flag with style. bursting with excitement, i immediately sent him a message to offer my heartfelt congratulations. and of course, i had to capture the historic moment, snapping a quick pic of his finish on my tv screen and sharing it with the world on my instagram story.

amidst the interviews, podium celebrations, and photo ops with the mclaren team, lando's mind kept drifting back to one thing: my message. he couldn't shake the anticipation of reading my words of support, knowing that even though i couldn't be there in person, i was cheering him on from afar.

finally, as the chaotic whirlwind of post-race activities began to settle, lando seized the opportunity to check his phone. with a quick swipe, he navigated to his messages, looking for my name. his heart skipped a beat when he saw my name.

"hey baby! can't believe it, i did it!" lando greeted me as soon as i picked up his call. i could tell that he was smiling from the tone of his voice.

"oh my gosh, lan, i knew you could do it! you were incredible out there!" i excitedly responded to him.

"thanks, baby! it feels unreal. i'm just so pumped right now!"

"you should be! you deserve to celebrate this big win. any plans?"

lando pauses, thinking "hmm, not really, just thinking of winding down, you know?"

i frowned upon hearing his response, how could he not celebrate his first win properly?!

“absolutely not! you were on fire out there! you know what? you've got to celebrate this win properly." i rolled my eyes as the words came out of my mouth.

lando laughs, "yeah, baby? you think? got any suggestions?" he asks eagerly.

i started to think and an idea popped up in my gorgeous, genius mind! fortunately, i was done with the work assigned to me.

"hmm, how about a little victory party at the club? you deserve to let loose and enjoy the moment, along with the grid, ya know?!" i giggled, hoping that he would agree so i could push through with my plan.

lando considers it, "you might be right, sweetheart. but i'm not sure…" he sounded sarcastic on the other line, probably just to tease me. i sighed and rolled my eyes, again.

"come on, lan! you've worked so hard for this. make some memories! trust me, you won't regret it." i demanded, hoping that he would agree now.

lando was obviously smiling "alright, you've convinced me! let's do it!"

"that's the spirit! now go have some fun, and i'll catch up with you later, lan, okay?":

“sounds like a plan! love you, baby!”

"love you too! enjoy the celebration!"

as lando hangs up, little does he know that i've already booked a two hour long flight to miami along with a suite, determined to surprise him and celebrate his victory in person. with a mischievous grin, i start packing my bags, thrilled at the thought of seeing the look of surprise on his face when i show up unannounced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

inside club velocity, the atmosphere pulsed with energy as lando, surrounded by his fellow drivers, basked in the euphoria of his first grand prix victory. the music thumped, mingling with the cheers and laughter of the crowd as they toasted to his success.

lando, wearing a grin that could light up the night sky, raised his glass in a toast, his eyes sparkling with joy and gratitude. around him, his friends and teammates clapped him on the back, their voices blending into a chorus of congratulations.

as the night wore on, the celebration only grew more spirited, with lando at the center of it all, soaking in every moment of his well-deserved triumph. little did he know, an even greater surprise awaited him, one that would make this unforgettable night even more memorable.

as soon as i finished getting ready, i messaged carlos to ask him which club they’re at.

me: "hey carlos! hope you guys are having a blast celebrating lando's win! which club are you all at?"

carlos: "hey! yeah, it's wild here! we're at club velocity on south beach. you should come join us!"

me: "awesome, thanks! see you there!" with carlos's reply in hand, i quickly went inside my rented vehicle, my heart pounding with excitement at the thought of surprising lando and joining in the celebration of his first grand prix victory.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i got to the club as quickly as possible. still making sure that i wore my signature carol h. good girl scent.

as i approached lando, i noticed his glazed eyes scanning the crowd, seemingly lost in a haze of alcohol. but then, something shifted. his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before his expression softened, and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly.

suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and a spark of recognition ignited in his eyes. "wait… i know that scent," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

a smile spread across my face as i watched him, knowing exactly what he was sensing. then, in an instant, his face lit up with realization, and he turned towards me with newfound clarity.

"it's you, baby! it’s you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight as he lunged forward to envelop me in a warm embrace.

relieved and touched by his recognition, i hugged him back, feeling the tension melt away as he held me close. it was a moment of pure connection amidst the chaos of the club, a reminder of the bond we shared.

as we pulled apart, lando's grin was infectious, his eyes bright with happiness. "i can't believe you're here, baby, you’re really here" he said, his voice filled with genuine surprise and gratitude.

i chuckled, shaking my head fondly. "wouldn't miss celebrating with you, lan. even if you're a little… tipsy."

lando laughed, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "yeah, maybe i went a bit overboard."

"seriously though, you're swaying more than the palm trees outside and your words are starting to sound like a foreign language. i think it's time we got you home, don't you?"

lando slowly nods sheepishly "yeah, you're probably right. i guess i got caught up in the moment." he giggled and pinched my cheek.

“i missed you so much, baby. i love you” he whispered in my ear, lightly biting it. i couldn't help my cheeks from turning hot after what he said.

i struggled to make up my words before i responded, “i missed you too, lan. i love you.” i gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his curly hair. he smiled at me, a smile warm enough to melt my heart.

“let’s get you some rest, lan. say goodbye to the grid.” i guided lando to stand up, his hand wrapped around my waist to help him navigate his way through the crowd.

“hey guys, i just wanted to say a huge thank you for being here tonight to celebrate with lando. it means the world to him, and to me."

"of course! lando's victory is something we all wanted to celebrate together!" carlos smiled and gave lando a pat on the back.

"absolutely, it's been an amazing night. but right now, my love needs some rest. take care, everyone!"

as we exchanged farewells and well-wishes, i couldn't help but feel grateful for the support of lando's friends. with smiles and nods all around, lando quickly waved goodbye and thanked his fellow drivers.

as we navigated out the club, lando's whispers filled the air, his words a mixture of adoration and drunken rambling. "you're so beautiful, baby" he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "and i've missed you so much."

i chuckled softly, feeling a wave of warmth wash over me. "i've missed you too, lan. but let's save the sweet talk for when you're a bit more sober, alright?"

lando nodded earnestly, his gaze locking with mine. "yeah, you're right, baby. but seriously, your smell… it's intoxicating. i can't get enough of it."

grinning, i squeezed his hand gently. "thanks, love. i'll take that as a compliment, even if it's coming from a slightly intoxicated mind."

with a sheepish grin, lando leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "i mean it, though, my love. you always smell like home to me."

as i opened the door to the shotgun seat, lando stumbled slightly as he climbed in, his movements slowed by the alcohol. with a patient smile, i guided him into the seat, making sure he was settled before reaching for his seatbelt.

as i leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, lando took advantage of the close proximity and planted a quick, sneaky kiss on my neck. the unexpected gesture sent a tingling sensation through me, but i brushed it off with a playful roll of my eyes.

"behave yourself, lan," i teased, my tone lighthearted as i finished securing his seatbelt.

with a mischievous grin, lando giggled and leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. i closed the door with a soft chuckle, taking a moment to compose myself before heading around to the driver's side.

as i settled into the driver's seat and started the engine, i couldn't help but smile at the lingering warmth of lando's kiss against my neck. but with a shake of my head, i focused on the road ahead, determined to get us back to our hotel safely.

as lando drifted off to sleep beside me, his face softened into a peaceful expression. i couldn't help but admire him at that moment. here was a guy who'd poured his heart and soul into his passion, and tonight, it had paid off big time.

i thought back on all the blood, sweat, and tears he'd poured into his career, the late nights at the track, the tough races, and the moments of doubt. but through it all, he'd never given up.

now, as he slept, i saw a sense of calm wash over him, like he'd finally achieved what he'd been working towards all this time. it was a pretty amazing feeling to witness.

at that moment, i realized how lucky i was to share this journey with him. and as i stole glances at him sleeping, i couldn't help but feel a wave of pride for everything he'd accomplished.

as i shook lando awake, his sleepy voice sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "hey, love. did we make it to the hotel already?"

i managed a smile, trying to hide my embarrassment. "yeah, we're here, sleepyhead," i replied softly, guiding him out of the car.

lando leaned heavily on me, his arm draped over my shoulder. it was a struggle to help him towards the elevator, his weight making each step a challenge.

"you're amazing, baby" lando slurred, his words sincere but slightly garbled.

i chuckled, feeling both amused and touched by his compliment. "just doing my best, lan" i replied modestly, navigating us through the lobby.

lando's closeness sent a flutter through me, his arm around my neck, dangling through my breasts as we walked made me feel the way i felt earlier when he kissed me on the neck.

as we reached the suite, i gently guided lando towards the bed, urging him to lie down and get some rest. but to my surprise, he resisted, his eyes pleading as he reached out to me.

"i don't want to sleep yet, baby" he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "i've missed you so much."

my heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through me. despite his drunken state, there was an intensity in his gaze that left me breathless.

"i've missed you too, lan," i whispered, my voice barely above a hush as i met his gaze.

“c’mere, beautiful” lando patted the space next to him in the bed, asking me to sit down beside him.

there was a charged silence between us, the air thick with unspoken desires and yearning. in that moment, it felt as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of us in the dimly lit room.

and then, almost as if on instinct, lando's hand reached out to cup my cheek, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. the intensity of his gaze held me captive, drawing me closer until our lips were mere inches apart.

without a word, our lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, a silent expression of all the emotions that had been building between us. it was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent promise of what was to come.

"so beautiful, my love," lando mumbled in between our kisses, his voice thick with emotion. "you don't know how long i've waited for this."

his words sent a thrill through me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between us for far too long. with each touch of his lips against mine, i felt myself melting into him, consumed by the heat of our passion.

our kisses deepened, each one more fervent than the last, as if we were trying to convey all the pent-up longing and desire that had been simmering between us for so long. "tastes like heaven, baby" lando murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

"i've missed this so much, lan" i confessed, my breath hitching as his fingers traced patterns along my skin.

lando paused, his touch gentle yet charged with an electric intensity. "i've missed this just as much, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. "more than words can say."

his hands roamed over to my wet panties that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a hunger that burned hotter with each passing moment. "you're so beautiful, and wet for me, baby" he whispered, his voice filled with reverence as he started to play with my clit.

i arched into his touch, wordlessly urging him closer, craving the delicious friction of our bodies melding together. "don't stop," i pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.

two of his fingers slipped inside me, and i found myself clutching his hair. “don’t stop, lan. more, please,” i urged, my voice tinged with urgency and longing. and, as always, he delivered without hesitation.

“so wet for me, and only for me, baby,” he murmured against my skin, his tone raw with desire, igniting a primal spark within me.

lando's eyes darkened with hunger as he drew nearer, his breath a tantalizing caress against my ear. "you're mine," he whispered, possessiveness lacing his words, sparking a thrill of excitement in my chest. "all mine."

a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine at his words, a silent agreement to the intensity of our connection. "yes, lan," i responded softly, the words barely escaping my lips, "only yours."

with a shared understanding, he guided me onto his waiting mouth, each movement charged with unspoken longing.

“want to taste you so bad, baby,” he growled softly, his breath warm against my skin as his tongue danced with mine, exploring every curve and crevice with eager reverence.

“tastes damn good, pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice a husky murmur of appreciation as he savored the intimacy of the moment.

with every lick, i felt myself edging closer to the end, our bodies moving in sync, a symphony of pleasure and desire. he quickened the pace, driving me towards the edge until i was teetering on the brink, my senses ablaze with sensation.

"fuck, lan. i’m so fucking close," i moaned, the words tumbling from my lips in a breathless plea for release.

i hit my breaking point, just lost in the moment, riding that wave of pure pleasure, my voice echoing in the silence of the room.

as i caught my breath, i gazed at lando with a sense of wonder, gratitude swelling in my chest for the connection we shared.

“c’mere, pretty. take my pants off for me, will ya?” he said, his voice tinged with anticipation. and without hesitation, i obliged, eager to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given me.

as i removed his pants, his eyes locked onto me, filled with unmistakable desire. when he pulled out his length from his boxers, i was taken aback; it seemed even bigger than before.

lando noticed my gulp as i stared at him, clearly turned on by my reaction.

without warning, he guided himself into my mouth, gently gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail as he directed my movements.

"i missed this fucking mouth," lando grunted, his hand instinctively moving my head forward and backward until his length reached my throat.

“ah, fuck, baby, your mouth feels incredible,” he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure as he savored the sensations. releasing his grip on my head, he allowed me full control.

i licked the tip of his shaft teasingly, before gradually taking him deeper until i reached his base. “you're so fucking beautiful like this, love. such a good girl, taking me fully” he struggled to praise, his words punctuated by moans of pleasure.

each sound he made spurred me on, igniting a deeper desire within me. with passion driving me, i gave him my all, the rhythm of my mouth against his cock filling the room.

“so good with your mouth like this, love. fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he thrust his hips, his movements growing more urgent.

“baby, i’m about to cum,” he warned between moans. i yearned for him to finish so we could move on to the next stage; my anticipation palpable.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, i’m cumming. you’re so fucking good at this, my love,” he smiled appreciatively as i swallowed, clearly impressed and aroused by my eagerness.

turning me around, he instructed, “on your knees, my love.”

"lando," i breathed, my voice a mix of warning and longing, almost on the edge of a whine. my legs remained spread as i faced away from him, fighting the urge to squirm, my patience wearing thin.

lando's grin widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his hands pushed my legs further apart, positioning himself at the entrance of my wetness.

"you look stunning from this angle, love," he hummed, his voice laced with teasing sweetness. "you need me badly, don’t you, love?" his length traced over my folds teasingly, sending shivers down my spine.

though i hesitated to admit it, i couldn't deny the truth as my hips involuntarily bucked upwards, a strangled moan escaping me when he pinched my clit.

"i need you," i whimpered almost shamefully, my head falling back in surrender. "so bad, lan."

"i need you inside me," i mumbled, making his smirk return.

"missed you so fucking much," he hisses, parting my legs further as my breath got faster.

"missed you too, lan" i assured him, a moan slipping past my lips as i felt his tip pressing against my folds, though he made no further movements. i pushed my hip back to feel his length.

his hand tangling in my hair and creating a makeshift ponytail ─ one he tugged on immediately, forcing my head up.

"use your words, m' love" lando's lips grazed my ear, his cock still lightly pressing against my entrance, causing me to cry out.

"i want you to fuck me," i whined, rushing my words out as my hips pressed backward.

"need you, lan, please," i whimpered, sounding desperate.

he entered me without warning, bottoming out as my walls wrapped around him, our gasps mingling as i gripped the bedsheets below.

"always taking me so well," lando grunted in my ear as his thrusts became rougher, deeper, ensuring i felt every inch of him.

every movement sent pleasure coursing through my body, my moans filling the room as i surrendered to the pleasure.

"you feel amazing, lan," i stumbled out, my eyes rolling back as my body melted under his touch.

lando, too, seemed lost in the sensation, his head thrown back as he moved with purpose, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room.

"does it feel good?" his question was rhetorical, just a way to chase praise, but i could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

i nodded, the only response i could manage in his hold.

"damn, you're just perfect, baby," lando grunted, his kiss on my shoulder was gentle compared to what was happening between my legs.

it was almost too much, the tears and whimpers making it clear i was close to another climax. and just the thought had him reaching his own peak.

"cum on my cock, baby. cum for me," he urged in my ear, sending shivers down my spine as my second orgasm hit. i practically screamed, going limp in his arms.

feeling me tighten around him had him climaxing too, groaning as he leaned against me, both of us catching our breath.

his touches became softer as he pulled away, guiding me to lean against the counter. we fell into a comfortable silence, his hands gentle on my waist.

"wanna hop in the shower?" lando's voice broke the quiet, a grin spreading across his face, and i felt a wave of relief.

i grinned back and nodded, and he chuckled, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me off to the bathroom.

after a relaxing shower together, we dried off and crawled into bed, exhausted yet content. the weight of the day's activities and the intimacy we shared left us feeling pleasantly worn out.

"baby, that was something else," lando chuckled, his arm wrapping around me as he pulled me close. his laughter was infectious, echoing the contentment that filled the room.

"definitely," i agreed, snuggling against him. the warmth of his body against mine was comforting, a tangible reminder of the bond we shared.

in the morning, we woke to the gentle rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. the tranquility of the moment was almost tangible as we lay intertwined, basking in the quiet stillness of the early hours.

"morning, love," lando greeted me with a smile, his eyes filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to my lips. the warmth of his lips against mine was a sweet welcome to the new day.

"morning, sleepyhead," i teased, returning his kiss with a playful grin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope u enjoyed reading my first fan-fic <3 feel free to give prompts and request !! enjoy !

[evilminji]

I think I figured it out?

My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?

Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.

Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.

Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?

.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.

The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.

It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.

He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!

But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?

Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!

It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.

At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!

Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!

He graduates.

He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.

He applies anyway.

Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.

Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.

And...

Huh.

The answer depends?

In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.

He...backs away slowly.

Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.

Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.

Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.

Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.

Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.

Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.

He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.

There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.

He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.

Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?

........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

[lavender-storm]

You are here now

summary | Theo breaks down and confesses why he's been so distant lately.

pairing | Theo Nott x fem!reader, she/her pronouns

warning | mentions of abuse, su1c1de, sad Theo, probably grammar mistakes

word count | ~2k

a/n: English isn't my first language, so if you found grammar mistakes, no you didn't. I also haven't written anything in a while, so i hope this isn't too bad. Let me know what you think! Xx

His legs are weak, and he can barely breathe when he finally sees her walking towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Y/N," his voice booms off the walls, scaring everyone around them. She stops but doesn't turn around, not needing to see who it is. She could recognise that voice anywhere. "Can we talk?" he says, a bit more quietly now. But she doesn't move, unsure what to do as Theo approaches her slowly. "Please?"

She takes a deep breath and simply starts walking towards a more secluded area. Theodore is breathless, his face is flushed and his whole body trembles. He's thinking of what to say, how to put his feelings into words as they sit down on the stairs, far away from curious eyes. Neither of them speak as he tries to slow down his vigorous heart. But words don't come easy to him as anxiety takes over his body.

The silence between them is too loud.

"How you been?"

"Good," Y/N answers, avoiding his gaze."You?"

"Eh. Could be better."

Another long silence, as Theo tries to collect himself.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" she asks, voice stern and cold. How did they end up like this? She used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. He misses it. Every day and night, it's all he can think about. How she laughed at his jokes, how she found comfort in his arms. How it all turned around as a fight followed a fight, with yelling and tears. The last time they talked, Y/N told him how disappointed she was, that he became one of those Slytherins. His heart shattered as soon as the words left her lips. He understood why of course. But it was him against his father, and he needed to change. It was for the better.

He should have said something a long long time ago. He shouldn't have waited. But he's scared, and his life is a mess and he just wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He's breaking under the weight, he's all alone and he can't find a way out.

"No, no. I, uhm," Theo's nervous, and Y/N can tell. It's rare he's like this and a heavy weight settles in her chest. He's usually collected, and outspoken, he never had any trouble talking. She wants to comfort him and let him know he can talk about anything, so she hesitantly lays a hand on his forearm. Even after all those arguments and crying and not talking, she cares. Of course, she cares. She is full of love.

Theo takes a shaky breath and tears collect in his eyes. He can't hold it back no matter how much he tries, because he feels so overwhelmed by her. He doesn't even know where to start.

Should he talk about his father? Should he tell her how he treats him? And that he never meant to become like this, but it was inevitable.

He needed her then, and he needs her now, but he fucked up by pushing her and everybody away, and he's scared he can't make it right. Y/N quietly calls his name as she caresses his arm, and a loud sob leaves Theo's lips. Y/N's heart rate picks up, the worry she felt before turned into terror as Theo's body trembles with every sob as she cradles him into her arms, holding his head to her shoulders while raking her fingers through his hair. Her heart breaks for him as he clings to her like his life depends on her.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never meant to do-, I di-didn't know - I'm just s-scared, so fucking scared. I hate him so much and then I did this to you. I miss y-you so bad, I can't even fucking breathe."

"Theo calm down, I can't understand you. Shh, it's okay just take a deep breath with me okay? Yeah, like that, great. You're doing great. One more," she says as she holds his face in her hands. Theo's chest tightens at her kindness. All those things he fucked up. He's a horrible son, a horrible friend, a horrible person. And yet here she is, wiping his tears with such a loving look in her eyes, his soul aches - he doesn't deserve her. "Now tell me again, okay? Slowly. I'm here, I'm listening."

"I'm sorry. I know you hate me, but I truly am sorry."

"I don't hate you, Theo-"

"Yeah, sure, than you are mad at me, whatever same thing."

"Theo-"

"I'm sorry okay? For everything. I didn't tell you the-, "he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, tears still streaming down his face."I didn't tell you the truth. I lied because I didn't want you to know. But I needed you. I needed you so bad. So I kept it a secret because I was scared. What if you agree with him? What if you see me the way he sees me? So I just avoided you. I know it's stupid, but I was so goddamn terrified."

"Who is he, Theo? What are you talking about?"

"Dad," he whispers and hangs his head, refusing to see her reaction.

"What is he saying, Theo?"

"It's all my fault," he murmurs. Y/N's brows are furrowed in confusion, what is he talking about? What is his fault?

"No, Theo, no. I'm sure that's not true but what is-"

"But it is, Y/N! He is right. My mother always had to take care of me and my problems, that's why she- and now he hates me! I'm a burden and I made their lives miserable."

"That is not true Theodore, listen to me. Don't think that. And I'm sure they could never hate you. You probably misunderstood, I know your parents love you-"

"You don't hit someone you love! I would never hit you! Never. Not even Blaise or, or Draco, or the others, never. " Y/N's whole body freezes, her mind's rummaging through her memories. Oh Merlin. How could she miss this? How could she not realize that…

Y/N is angry. Angry that Theo didn't say anything until now. Angry that she couldn't see the obvious. He showed up with a new bruise every few weeks, and rumors of him initiating fights for fun, spread like fire. But no one ever knew who he fought. It always remained a mystery. Because all of it was a lie, and deep down Y/N knew, but that was easier to believe than this. He needed her and she ignored him. The only person she could ever open up to needed her the most, and she just left him.

"Theo, all this time we thought you were fighting other students, you-"

"He says it's the least I deserve. She was always working and always stressed because of me. They had to sacrifice so much. It's all my fault she couldn't take it. And now all of this is on Dad. It's my fault, I did this. I killed her."

It's an unwritten rule in the Nott family, that nobody talks about the death of Theo's mom. As far as others are concerned, she ran away. And so that's what Y/N thought too.

"She killed herself because of me. And he makes sure I'm aware of that. And I'm so scared that he's right."

"He is not right, Theo, look at me. He's not right. He's full of shit. I've never met your mother, but I know, he raised the kindest, smartest, most amazing boy ever. I know she must have been so proud to call you his son." Theo cries louder, his fingers hold onto her tightly. "I'm proud of you Theo. You don't deserve any of this."

Guilt claws at her chest as she takes him in. His eyes are red and puffy now, but a bruise is still visible under his left eye and a deep cut, already healed, splits his eyebrows. His skin is pale and cold, and he's so thin that his uniform hangs on his body like it's three sizes too big.

Months ago, it fit him perfectly.

She was so consumed by her anger and jealousy that Theo chose his new friends over her, that she couldn't even look at him. And she curses herself for being so oblivious and idiotic, because if she looked at him, only just a second longer, she would have seen the truth. Now, sitting on the stairs with only a little light, she can truly see him. And the Theodore that's sitting here is not the same Theodore she left that day.

"I can't do this without you, Y/N. I know I'm horrible but please. Please forgive me," he begs, but Y/N shakes her head. If someone should be apologizing it's her, not him.

"No, don't apologize. I'm- oh, Theo, I'm so sorry. I should have realized it. I should have paid attention, I should have been there for you. I'm so sorry I left you alone. I should have never done that," she says, pulling him into her embrace again. Theo hugs her tightly, basking in her warmth. "And you are wrong. You are not horrible. You are the most amazing person I've ever met, Theo. You were always there for me, always looked out for me. I'm so sorry I didn't do the same."

"You're here now,"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you staying?"

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere. Not again. I promise." He believes her. He knows none of this is her fault and if she knew, she would've never left. "I love you Theo, so so much. We'll get through this. Together."

And for the first time in months, Theo feels peace wash over his body like waves, and the noise in his head stops. It's silent and calm in his body and soul. Everything's going to be alright. Y/N is here again. They are okay again. He will be alright again.

[blairxbear]

Stranger Things Preferences

Their Pet Name for you.

(Featuring: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Jonathan Byers, Dmitri Antonov, Jim Hopper, Alexei, Murray Bauman, Robin Buckley, Argyle, Henry/001)

Warnings: Mentions of sex. This blog is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: My first preference! There will be quite a few of these across quite a few fandoms so if you'd like to be tagged in future preferences or future stranger things posts please let me know in the comments! :) Also any Russian is taken straight from google translate so pre-apologies if I have butchered it! Enjoy!

Steve Harrington

Steve keeps his pet names quite generic, baby, babe, sweetheart. It's not so much the names he uses but how he says them. Most of the time he's most comfortable using the shortened version of your name or nickname he has for you, but the amount of affection he would put into it would make you melt. If he's being especially flirtatious you'd even occasionally get doll. He doesn't miss the effect it has on you when he calls you that.

Eddie Munson

Eddie is as theatrical with his pet names as he is with anything else in life. He loves to call you princess, especially during Hellfire meetings when he can incorporate you into his campaign. I think Eddie would switch between a few pet names to try to keep it interesting, baby, sunshine, sweetheart. It doesn't matter what he calls you it never fails to give you butterflies. Let's not pretend that if you two are hanging out in his trailer while you joke around and play air guitar together that he doesn't call you his little Rockstar.

Billy Hargrove

Billy's pet names for you depend on two things; his mood, and who you are around. In public you're only getting the less heartfelt pet names, he refers to you as his girl a lot in front of other people. Not only does he love the small smile it brings to your face but it also feeds into his possessive side, knowing that everyone knows you are his. When you two are alone and have been together for a while, Billy finally shoes a softer side of himself. He will compliment you a lot and attach all sort of pet names to those compliments, baby, sugar, sweet thing, still loving to resort to calling you his girl. You're mad at him and he's trying to make it up to you? Get ready for him to bargain his way back into your arms, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers in your ear, "Come on sweetheart, you know you can't stay mad at me."

Jonathan Byers

This soft, shy, adorable baby will probably be hesitant to use pet names for a long time. I honestly doubt you would hear them until you two begin to get intimate and he's too lost in the moment to think about what he's saying. He's pussy drunk and rambling into your neck, pet names would all be soft and sweet while he's chasing his high, beautiful and sweetheart would be at the top of his list. Getting high in his room? This sweet man would be telling you how you're his sunshine, rambling on in his delirium about how you light up his life.

Dmitri Antonov

While this man's English is very good, he still prefers to use pet names in Russian. There's something about the way he looks at you with his intense gaze as he slips back into his native tongue that just turns you into an absolute puddle. His favourites include котенок (kitten) and моя любовь (my love). The thought of this man holding you while you curl up in bed for the night, arms wrapped around you while he whispers endearing words in Russian into your ear is enough to bring butterflies to your stomach.

Jim Hopper

Let's not pretend like for a goooooooood while this man affectionately refers to you as kid even if you are barely a few years younger than him. He's a tough shell of a man that will refuse to open up or show his feelings for a long time, but when he does you realise its worth the wait. He doesn't throw around pet names and words of endearment a lot as he prefers to save them for moments when he feels it's right. When it's just the two of you and you're sharing a soft moment, sometimes referring to you as darling in his softer moments. Occasionally you might even get a cheeky baby.

Alexei

Another Russian baby, this adorable man will always call you pet names in Russian, it doesn't matter how much his English has improved. It just means more to him coming from his native tongue. His regular go to include голубь (Dove) and милый (Darling). Although, Murray taught him how Americans us Pumpkin as a term of endearment as a way to screw with you both and now it's one of Alexei's favourite things to call you. Jokes on Murray because seeing Alexei's face light up as he reaches for you and calls you pumpkin is enough to fall even more in love with him.

Murray Bauman

I feel like Murray cannot find it in himself to call you soft names to start off with. He's still confused by the fact that you even want to be with him, he's not going to possibly embarrass himself further using some pet names that might cross some invisible line he's set up for himself. He refers to as lady a lot, or another unique name that fits your looks of personality. Once this man is comfortable and more secure in your relationship I think the names would still stay light and not too sensitive. You would definitely get honey a lot, I don't think Murray would be able to resist yelling through the house when he gets home, "Honey, I'm home!"

Robin Buckley

Robin would also keep her pet names generic just like her bestie Steve, but less out of originality and more just to play it safe. Robin would have some insecurities going into a relationship after all the careful steps she took just to get to where you two are now. She is hesitant at first to say the wrong thing so she sticks to a lot of sweetheart and babe. One day you were spending time together and she slipped up and called you buttercup. She panicked for a second worrying what you would think of the nickname, but seeing your smile wiped all of those worries away and it became one of her favourite pet names so far.

Argyle

Okay so we all know this cutie is not going to call you any conventional pet names unless he's sober which is not very often. You're going to get a lot of my dude and bro but he does really mean it affectionately with you. Other than that you're definitely going to get a lot of made up names that mean absolutely nothing but to him they mean a lot; wicked lady, cream puff, anything. He would totally refer to you as "my queen" when he lets you into the van which he refers to as your chariot. Your favourite pet name would be the time he said, "My pretty girl is gonna get all the pizza she wants" he couldn't understand your reaction as you couldn't think of what to say next after hearing Argyle call you his pretty girl.

Henry/001

I whole heartedly believe this man would refer to you as pet. He does mean it endearingly but he also can't resist how you scrunch your nose up at hearing the teasing term. He also uses a lot of "My little..." whether it be bird, bunny, dove. He constantly feels the need to protect you and he shows that in his terms of endearment by referring to you as small and innocent. I know this man would call you his good girl, and you will have to pry that thought out of my cold dead hands.

A/N: Hope you guys like this! Reminder that if you want to be tagged in future Stranger things posts or other preferences to let me know in the comments and ill create a tags list :)

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part ten

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, sad rafe, idk i might be forgetting something

author's note: this chapter is both long and not entirely proof read so bear with me lol. i also wrote this at like 4 am so please. anyways, i want to start making the chapters a bit longer for you guys since i've been away for so long. enjoy!

"Y/n, what's wrong? What's going on?" You could feel Rafe's tangible consternation right through the phone. Your chest felt like it was caving in, accompanied by the growing, nausea-inducing pit in your stomach formulated from your feelings of guilt. The way his typically baritone voice was strained and quiet, presumably from the unexpected "emergency"phone call you had presented him with.

"I-I got into a huge fight with JJ," you fibbed with the help of the crack in your voice and a sorrowing tone that could only make Rafe crumble right in your hands, "it's a long story, but I need to get out of here. I can't be in this place any longer, Rafe." You fraudulently sobbed.

"Okay, okay.. Just breathe, yeah? I can come and get you in a second I just really have to finish this thing with my dad fir-"

"Rafe, please. I need you now." You pleaded as though your life depended on it, which in a way, it did. You realized that had your attempt to lure Rafe into your arms failed, your friends would be in a heap of danger.

An audible sigh was heard from the other sign of the phone, along with muffled chatter that you assumed was Rafe and Ward talking. The conversation, or what you heard of it, sounded like back-and-forth bickering for the most part, which caused a wave of anxiety to wash over you as you began to pick at your nails. Seconds felt like hours as you waited to hear Rafe's voice again on the other side, but it sounded as though the conversation continued. You stayed on the other side of the line in complete silence, not wanting to interrupt the matter, but the longer it took your nerves ensued.

"I'm on my way." Rafe suddenly responded, taking you off guard after not hearing him address you within a period of time.

"Thank you." You whispered, a small smile of satisfaction present on your face at what you had managed to accomplish. Perhaps Rafe was more infatuated than you imagined, you thought.

*NEW MESSAGE FROM Y/N to KIARA CARRERA: done.*

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Time passed by quickly whilst you waited for Rafe's arrival. You paced the living room back and forth a few times, wondering how you were going to pull off such a stunt despite the pit in your stomach growing and your hands trembling with unease. Your mind became your worst enemy as you thought through everything that could go wrong as you anxiously waited for the time to come, replaying every bad scenario through your head over and over again - until you were practically sick.

Your pessimistic thoughts were cut to a halt by a loud knock at the door, one that sounded more like someone was pounding on the other side. The noise made your body jump as you immediately turned a heel towards the door. You approached hesitantly, trying to kill as much time as possible before you'd open the door, but as time progressed the knocking became quicker and louder thuds that raddled the chateau.

"Y/n. Are you hurt? Did he do something to you cause I'll kick that son of a bitch to a pul-"

"No, Rafe, I'm not hurt. Not physically, at least." You shook your head, forcing out your voice in the most pathetic tone you could possible mimic. Rafe frowned in response as he noticed the way your head hung low and eyes stayed glued to the ground.

"What did he say to you?" Rafe softly asked, approaching you with caution and ease as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing a familiar sense of butterflies to errupt and flutter around in your stomach.

"He just brought up a bunch of stuff about my family and called me a traitor for spending time with you. For being with you, basically." Your vision became blurry as tears clouded your view, unsure of how they got there, but you mentally applauded yourself for such a performance.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. C'mere." Rafe cooed sympathetically as he pulled you into his arms tightly, possibly the tightest embrace you've felt in your life, but in a sense it felt good to be held like that. Like nothing in the world could hurt you while you were wrapped up in Rafe Cameron's arms, as insane as it sounded to you.

Your body relaxed in his arms, eyes closing as you soaked up every bit of his warmth. You nearly hummed in such delight before stopping yourself, not wanting to feed into Rafe's ego more than you already were just by calling him over for help. But it did feel nice, a feeling that came as a shock to you.

"I wanna get out of here, Rafe. Please." You sniffled, looking up at the brooding figure with those sad puppy-dog eyes that could make any man melt in your hands.

"Of course. Do you want to come back to my place? You can spend the night with me if you don't feel like going home."

You shook your head, "I don't wanna go home, especially not like this. Are you sure it's okay if I stay with you tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah 'course it is. Besides, my dad probably wont be back tonight and Rose and Wheezie are with him so I'll need the company. I'd prefer yours over theirs anyways." Rafe flashed you a small smile, hoping to diminish the frown that clouded your features as he rubbed your forearms gently.

You trailed behind Rafe on the walk to the car, watching as he held the door open and gestured your inside. You gave him a weak simper and a head nod as a symbolism of your gratitude at his sentiment. You'd be a liar if you said it didn't make your heart flutter at how caring and gentle he was being towards you, but you cursed yourself for the fact that it was all because of a lie.

"Y/n?" Rafe asked, snapping you out of your trance while you gazed out of the window.

"Yeah?"

"You aren't upset with me for earlier, are you?" He inquired, biting the inside of his cheek.

"No, why would I be?" You tilted your head, brows furrowed as you made eye contact with the blue-eyed Kook.

"I don't know. I guess I just thought you seemed a little dry when I was dropping you off earlier, s'all." Rafe coughed out, noticing how he scratched the back of his head as he spoke feebly.

"Oh, I see." You blinked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way. I've just been a little tired I guess."

"No, don't apologize. It's okay." He turned his head, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to reassure you with a thin-lipped smile. You observed as he clutched the steering wheel, veins ostensibly poking through along his arms and hands in a way that made your thighs clench together tightly. You gulped silently in an attempt to restrain yourself and regain composure - this was Rafe Cameron you were talking about. Yet on the other hand, despite his vainglorious ways and haughty sense-of-self, inhis eyes, a flicker of mischief dances amidst shadows, a daring tale waiting to unfold. He was the embodiment of defiance, a canvas of contradictions where danger and allure converge in captivating disarray. You found yourself ensnared by the gravity of his presence, a force that pulled your world into his magnetic orbit. You could keep reminding yourself to run away from him, but where would you go to hide? He was everywhere, from the depths of your mind, to every turning corner of Figure 8.

You made it back to the Cameron's residence before you knew it, perhaps too caught up in the thought of Rafe to realize what was happening around you. However, once the car came to a halt and your surroundings stopped moving, reality soon greeted you once again.

You hopped out of the car, following behind Rafe like a lost puppy who didn't know where it was. You felt out of place, and a bit on edge. You wondered if your friends were okay, praying that your decoy tactics were doing them good. The other half of your nerves came from the fact that you were doing something that went against your moral code, and challenged your ability to lie to the face of someone you.. Care about?

"Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea, a soda?" Rafe asked, making his way to the kitchen with you in close pursuit.

"I'm good." You passed off his offer with a half-hearted laugh and a weak smile. As you watched him, the ambient light of the fridge casted a soft glow on his silhouette. His movements were casual, effortless, as he navigated the contents in search of a drink. The way he tilted his head slightly, the lines of his profile against the cool light—it’s a fleeting portrait etched into your memory. You found yourself caught in the simplicity of the moment, the way his fingers grazed the chilled bottles, his easy familiarity with the space. There was something mesmerizing about the way he handled the mundane, turning the ordinary into a scene worth cherishing. It was as though time slowed, encapsulating this small interaction, making it feel like an eternity. A smile tugged at your lips as you observed, captivated by his presence. The faint hum of the fridge was a backdrop to the symphony of your thoughts, all centered around this magnetic figure before you. In that unguarded moment, as he stood there unaware, he became the focal point of your world, drawing you deeper into the allure of his ordinary yet enchanting actions.

"Didn't realize I had an audience," he chuckled, catching you watching him with an amused glint in his eye. There was a playful energy in his tone, a sense that he knew he had inadvertently drawn your attention.

Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, he exuded a relaxed confidence. "If watching me rummage through the fridge becomes a regular show, I might have to start selling tickets," he teased, trying to lighten the moment but also displaying a subtle curiosity about what had captured your interest. His ego slowly peaking through, as usual.

"Oh, absolutely riveting," you retorted, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words as you met his amused gaze. "Your fridge exploration was the highlight of my day, truly." Your lips curved into a wry smile, eyes dancing with playful mockery.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes softening as he met your gaze. "You know, watching you watch me... it's kind of different," he began, his voice a touch softer, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his usual ease.

"I mean, it's not every day someone looks at me like... well, like that," he admitted, the words stumbling out with a hint of uncertainty. His gaze briefly faltered, a struggle evident within him as if battling between speaking his mind and holding back.

But before he could continue, he stopped himself abruptly, a shadow of hesitation crossing his features. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make things weird. Forget I said anything," he deflected, a faint tinge of regret coloring his words as he tried to backtrack, a sudden unease settling over him.

As he hesitated, you caught the shift in his demeanor, a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath his usual confidence. "No, don't," you interjected softly, reaching out to gently touch his hand, your eyes imploring him to continue. "Please, whatever you were going to say... I want to hear it."

In that suspended moment of vulnerability, he gathered the courage to speak what had been on his mind for far too long. "I... I've always felt something different around you," he confessed, his voice softer than a whisper, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions.

"It's not just the way you look at me, but... how you make me feel," he continued, his gaze locking with yours, each word chosen with care, as if he was navigating uncharted territory. "There's this warmth, this comfort that settles in whenever you're near." He paused, the air thick with anticipation, his heart pounding against the cage of his chest. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of what he felt, a mixture of fear and longing flickering in his eyes.

But as the moment hung between them, poised on the edge of revelation, he stopped himself once more, the weight of his unspoken feelings heavy upon him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he murmured, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his features as he withdrew, fearing he might have crossed a line.

You were stunned, his words piercing through the air, carrying a weight you hadn't expected. Your heart fluttered in response, a mix of surprise and a tinge of something deeper stirring within you.

"I never realized," you breathed out, your voice trembling slightly, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside. His confession had caught you off guard, unraveling a part of your own feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

"There's always been this... something," you confessed, your words coming out in a rush, a newfound realization taking hold. "A connection, a pull towards you that I couldn't quite define."

Yet, before you could explore this uncharted territory further, you sensed his hesitation, his retreat from the vulnerable moment you had both stepped into. The abruptness left you reeling, an unspoken ache lingering in the charged air between you.

"I didn't mean to make it awkward," you murmured, regret coloring your tone as you witnessed his uncertainty. The unspoken sentiments hung heavy, a silent conversation begging to be continued, the depth of emotions left unexplored.

In the hush of that moment, you found yourselves locked in a silent exchange. His gaze, an ocean of depths, met yours with an unwavering intensity, drawing you in like a force. You perched on the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface beneath you, as he closed the distance, a dance of proximity that felt almost orchestrated by fate.

Closer, step by deliberate step, until the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Rafe's presence enveloped you, a shield from the outside world, as if the space around you had collapsed into a world of its own. You felt his warmth seep through the inches that separated you, a silent harmony of shared breaths.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stand still. Your breaths mingled, creating a delicate rhythm of anticipation. His hand moved with a tenderness that spoke volumes, gently enclosing you within the confines of that intimate space.

And as his closeness eclipsed the distance between you, your eyes locked in a silent conversation, saying things that mere words couldn't articulate. The world outside faded into insignificance as the universe shrank to just the two of you, suspended in a timeless embrace of unspoken longing.

Your breath hitched, Rafe's minty-breath fanning over your skin as his lips lingered a few inches from your face. You felt a flutter in your chest as his eyes bore into yours, each glance a revelation, unraveling layers of unspoken emotions. In the depth of his stare, you sensed a vulnerability, a longing that mirrored your own.

Before you had time to think, his lips connected with yours, passionately but with a delicacy that made it seem like if he pushed too far, you would break. You took in his affection, pulling him in by the back of his neck as he hungrily devoured the cherry lip balm off of your glossy lips. Rafe kept the pace slow, but his movements were eager and greedy for more of you. His large hands trailing up your open thighs, stopping at your hips as he gripped them and squeezed at them lightly.

You moaned into his mouth as you longed for more of him, a testimate you figured you'd regret doing later, but in that moment, you needed him, and he knew it.

Rafe responded with a smirk against your lips, letting out a deep, low chuckle from the bottom of his throat that sent tingles down your spine. You arched your body towards his, caving into his touch and practically begging for more. You weren't exactly sure why you were so taken over by such feeling of lust, but you wouldn't dare brush it off.

"God, I love you." Rafe groaned, murmuring his words against your neck yet they came out plain as day. Your eyes, previously shut as you took in the bliss of what you were experiencing, now shot wide open and you stared ahead.

"You.. What?" You stammered on your words as your throat seemingly went dry.

In the wake of his sudden admission, you were left speechless, the air heavy with the unexpected weight of his confession. His words lingered in the space between you, a revelation that seemed to have shifted the very ground beneath your feet.

You looked at him, shock etched in your features, mirrored in the stunned expression on his face. In that suspended moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you, a shared astonishment at the sudden revelation.

Time seemed to halt, the air thick with a mix of emotions, leaving you both stranded in an uncomfortable silence. His confession hung in the air, and you found yourself grappling with a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

The shock of his abrupt admission left you reeling, unsure of how to respond, as if the ground beneath your feet had shifted. The air crackled with a charged tension, a profound moment that had unexpectedly unfolded between you, leaving you both standing at the precipice of an uncertain new chapter.

"Y/n-I... It was the heat of the moment." He was lying right through his teeth.

"Rafe you don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'." You stated, face still covered in shock.

"I know, I know," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and sincerity, attempting to backpedal. "But sometimes... things just spill out, you know?"

You looked at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and uncertainty, the shock still painted across your features. "You don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'," you stated firmly, your voice carrying a weight of conviction.

He met your gaze, his eyes searching for a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. "I guess... I might have gotten carried away," he admitted, a hint of remorse coloring his words. "But that doesn't mean I don't mean it, Y/n."

His attempt to retract his words faltered in the face of your unwavering response, leaving an uncomfortable tension hanging between you, the unspoken truth lingering in the air, too palpable to be ignored.

"I messed up, saying it like that," Rafe sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone as he struggled to express himself. "But the truth is, I've been feeling this way for a while now."

You watched him, the shock slowly morphing into a mix of confusion and a glimmer of curiosity. "Rafe, why now? Why like this?" you questioned, seeking clarity in the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed both of you.

He hesitated, searching for the right words, a turbulent storm brewing in his thoughts. "I didn't plan it, it just happened," he confessed, a sense of urgency in his voice. "But... being around you, it's like discovering something I didn't know I needed. And I don't want to pretend otherwise."

The vulnerability in his admission hung in the air, an unspoken plea for understanding and a hint of desperation to convey what he truly felt. The intensity of the moment lingered, a raw and unfiltered exchange leaving you both exposed, suspended in a realm of unresolved emotions.

The sudden confession left you reeling, a storm of conflicting thoughts raging within. His words echoed in your mind, but beneath the shock, a sense of unease crept in. You couldn't ignore the inconvenient truth—you had approached him under false pretenses, a lie woven into the fabric of your interactions.

As his feelings spilled out, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the right time. Guilt tugged at your conscience, reminding you that your connection with him was built on a shaky foundation. How could you entertain the possibility of reciprocating his feelings when the truth had been veiled behind a facade?

His sincerity clashed with the dishonesty looming over your encounters. The weight of regret settled heavy on your shoulders, wishing for an alternate reality where honesty could pave the way for genuine emotions to blossom.

Amidst the tumult of emotions, you grappled with the turmoil of regret, longing for a different circumstance where the truth could guide the course of your connection with him.

"Rafe.. you don't know what you're saying." You shook your head, voice quiet as your head hung low while guilt proceeded you.

"But I know how I feel, Y/n."

He watched you, a sense of helplessness clouding his features as he realized the weight of his confession. "I get it if this is too much, too soon," he murmured, a mix of sincerity and a hint of pleading in his voice. "I just needed you to know."

There was a pang of regret in his chest, knowing that his impulsive admission might have pushed things too far, too quickly. He hoped for understanding, for a chance to rectify the situation, but the gravity of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncertain tension between you both.

"Rafe, please.. Don't do this." You continued shaking your head at him, your body deterring his words away from you.

Rafe’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mix of remorse and a longing to make things right. "I didn't mean to make things complicated," he said, his voice laced with regret as he recognized the distress in your plea.

"I'll back off, I promise," he assured, a sense of resignation coloring his words. "I'll give you space, whatever you need."

He took a step back, giving you a gentle nod as if to affirm his commitment to respecting your wishes. Though the weight of his unspoken feelings lingered, he understood the importance of honoring your request, his regret palpable in the ache of the unspoken words he left hanging in the air.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Rafe. I just - I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

Rafe's features softened once more, a glint of understanding in his eyes as he absorbed your words. "I hear you," he replied softly, a tinge of regret lacing his voice. "Maybe I jumped the gun."

He took a step closer, a reassuring gesture without encroaching on your space. "I get it, Y/n. I don't want to complicate things for you," he acknowledged, a sense of empathy coloring his words. "I'll... figure it out."

There was a lingering sadness in his eyes, a realization that the depth of his feelings might have inadvertently disrupted the delicate balance. He offered a faint, understanding smile, silently conveying his acceptance of your decision while grappling with the weight of unspoken sentiments swirling within him.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, the turmoil of emotions swirling within you as you watched Rafe navigate the complexities of the moment. There was a pang of empathy mixed with a tinge of regret, knowing that his heartfelt confession had collided with a reality too intricate to unravel.

His genuine vulnerability struck a chord within you, the sincerity in his eyes a poignant reminder of the depth of his feelings. Despite the complexities, there was an undeniable longing in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

Yet, amidst the ache, you held firm, knowing that conceding to the whirlwind of emotions might only deepen the intricate web you both found yourselves entangled in. The ache in your chest was a silent testament to the conflicting desires to both embrace and pull away from the vulnerability that lay bare between you.

With a gentle resolve in your voice, you offered a solution to diffuse the tension hanging in the air. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll sleep in the guest room if you'd like for me to," you softly stated, your gaze fixed on Rafe, awaiting his response.

Rafe met your gaze, a mix of gratitude and regret flickering in his eyes. "I appreciate that," he replied quietly, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "But you don't have to do that. You can take my room; I'll take the guest."

There was a sense of mutual understanding in his response, a tacit acknowledgment of the unspoken boundaries between you. As you turned to leave, a bittersweet atmosphere lingered, the weight of unresolved emotions hanging in the air, leaving both of you to navigate the uncharted territories of unspoken sentiments.

Your heart urged you to offer more, to say something that could alleviate the heaviness in the room, yet words eluded you. You wished to ease the ache in Rafe's eyes, to erase the tension that had woven its way between you both.

But the weight of the moment held you captive, words caught in the tangled threads of conflicting emotions. You longed to express understanding, to mend the rift caused by the unexpected turn of events, but the complexity of the situation left you grappling with the silence.

With a heavy sigh and a lingering gaze, you retreated, knowing that sometimes the silence spoke louder than any words you could muster, and hoping that time might offer a balm to heal the unspoken wounds that lingered between you and Rafe.

As you made your way to Rafe's room, guilt weighed heavy on your shoulders, each step a reminder of the tangled web of emotions you found yourself entwined in. The faint echo of your own footsteps seemed to resonate with the uncertainty that clouded your mind.

Slipping under the covers, the warmth of the room offered little comfort against the turmoil within. You couldn't shake off the guilt, a relentless companion that followed you into the darkness. The sheets felt colder than usual, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

Lying there, your thoughts tangled in a maze of regret, you replayed the events of the evening, questioning the choices that led to this poignant moment. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Sleep remained elusive, your mind restless, grappling with the repercussions of your actions. The guilt lingered as a constant reminder of the complexities that now defined the fragile dynamics between you and Rafe.

As the night ebbed away, the soft hues of dawn painted the sky, signaling the arrival of a new day. You descended the stairs, a faint unease lingering from the events of the previous evening, unsure of what the morning would bring.

At the foot of the staircase, you were met with Rafe, his presence an unexpected yet anticipated encounter. There was an awkward tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unresolved emotions that hung between you both.

"Morning," Rafe greeted, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, the weight of the unspoken words from the night before lingering in the air.

"Morning," you replied softly, the air heavy with an unspoken understanding, a palpable sense of discomfort threading through the atmosphere.

There was an unspoken agreement to navigate the morning with cautious steps, each movement tinged with the residue of the unresolved emotions that lingered between you. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, leaving both of you searching for a semblance of normalcy in the midst of the palpable awkwardness.

"I'm gonna head back to the chateau in a few, JJ said he wants to talk to me," you mentioned, trying to break the palpable tension hanging in the air.

Rafe's laughter was dry, a strained sound that echoed in the room, a stark contrast to the ease that once defined your interactions. "Seems like he's got a lot to talk about these days," he remarked, a hint of bitterness seeping into his words.

You sensed the unease in his tone, a reflection of the awkwardness that enveloped the space between you. The weight of the unresolved emotions lingered, casting a shadow over the interaction, leaving the air heavy with unspoken sentiments.

The apology hung in the air, a quiet admission laden with the weight of remorse. "Rafe... I'm sorry, okay?" you uttered softly, the words an attempt to ease the strain that enveloped the space between you.

"Sure," Rafe replied, his tone notably drier, a touch of guardedness in his response. The weight of the situation lingered in the air, his words carrying a subtle hint of distance as he navigated the delicate balance between acceptance and reservation.

The conversation seemed to falter, leaving an uncomfortable silence that underscored the unspoken tension. Despite the attempt at reconciliation, there was a palpable hesitance in his demeanor, a reluctance to fully embrace the offered apology, adding another layer of complexity to the already strained atmosphere.

"I didn't say it because I don't care about you, Rafe," you asserted, hoping to clarify the sincerity behind your actions.

Rafe's response was more confrontational, his confusion apparent in his tone. "Then why?" he questioned, a hint of frustration seeping into his words. "It's just... it feels like nothing's adding up."

There was an edge to his demeanor, a palpable frustration stemming from the unresolved tension between you. The attempt at explanation seemed to only complicate matters further, leaving both of you grappling with the tangled web of emotions that refused to find resolution.

"Because I don't want you to get hurt," you explained, your voice soft yet firm, hoping to convey the underlying concern that had guided your actions.

Rafe's demeanor softened slightly, a flicker of surprise mingled with a trace of understanding in his expression. "Hurt?" he echoed, a hint of confusion still present but tempered by the sincerity in your words.

"Yeah," you continued, trying to articulate the protective instinct that fueled your choices. "Things are... complicated, and I didn't want to add to that."

There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, an attempt to bridge the gap with honesty and concern, hoping to offer a glimpse into the complexities that had led to your decisions. The air, though still charged with tension, held a trace of empathy as you navigated the fragile balance between candor and reservation.

"Do you think I care if things are a little complicated, Y/n? My whole life has been complicated," Rafe responded, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and a hint of frustration, a glimpse into the complexities he had grown accustomed to.

His words held a weight, a testament to the tumultuous experiences that had shaped his life. Despite the tension, there was a raw honesty in his admission, revealing the layers of complexities that had become intrinsic to his existence.

"Yeah, but it's me, Rafe. I'm a Pogue from the Cut, do you really want that? Your family probably has this whole plan set out for you to end up with a Kook, anyways," you expressed, a tinge of vulnerability woven into your words. "This, I, am way too complicated for your lifestyle. That's more weight than you could bear."

Your words carried the weight of societal expectations and the stark contrast between your worlds. The lines drawn by society's standards seemed insurmountable, adding layers of complexity to an already intricate situation. You highlighted the disparity between your backgrounds, emphasizing the potential burden it might pose for Rafe, intertwining concern for his well-being with an understanding of the societal barriers dividing you.

"I don't care, Y/n. I don't care what they have to say because I care about you. Why can't you just accept that?" Rafe's voice carried a raw honesty, his words cutting through the barriers of societal expectations.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unwavering declaration. "Because it's not that simple, Rafe," you replied softly, your voice laced with a mix of emotions. "There's so much more at stake than just us. Just trust me on this. Please."

"Y/n, please just listen to me. It doesn't have to be this way. We can make it work, whatever I have to do, I'll do it," Rafe pleaded, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency and determination.

You met his earnest gaze, torn between the desire to believe in his words and the weight of the obstacles you both faced. "Rafe, it's not that simple," you murmured, the turmoil evident in your tone. "There are things beyond our control, things that won't just change because we want them to."

The ache in your chest mirrored the conflict in your mind, the yearning to embrace his offer battling against the harsh realities that seemed to impose barriers between you.

The scene unfolded before you, and you witnessed the subtle tremble in Rafe's lip, a poignant display of the emotions he struggled to contain. Sorrow etched into the depths of his eyes, a vulnerable expression that laid bare the depth of his feelings.

Your heart wrenched at the sight, a surge of empathy flooding through you as you recognized the pain reflected in his gaze. The weight of the situation bore heavily on him, and the turmoil within him was palpable, painting a picture of raw vulnerability and unspoken longing.

Despite the complexities that stood between you both, the silent plea in his eyes tugged at your own emotions, evoking a whirlwind of conflicting sentiments that left you grappling with the ache of shared sorrow and the unyielding barriers that seemed to divide you.

"I need you, Y/n," Rafe's voice was tinged with desperation, a raw plea that echoed in the room, laying bare the depth of his emotions.

"I've got to go, Rafe," you whispered, your voice laden with sorrow, each word a painful admission of the necessity to part ways despite the shared longing.

Walking out of Rafe's house, tears blurred your vision, emotions swirling within as you grappled with the weight of the encounter. As you stepped outside, your friend Kiara awaited in the car, a knowing look in her eyes that spoke volumes without a single word exchanged.

Kiara observed your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding. Without needing to speak, she unlocked the car doors, a silent invitation for you to seek solace in the comfort of her presence.

With a heavy heart, you slid into the passenger seat beside Kiara, the warmth of her presence offering a sense of solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions. The unspoken understanding between friends enveloped the space, allowing for a moment of silent companionship amid the storm of feelings that surged within.

"I did what you guys asked me," you stated flatly, the weight of your actions hanging heavily in the air, your voice tinged with resignation.

Kiara glanced at you, her expression a mix of concern and apprehension, recognizing the strain in your voice. "Are you okay?" she inquired softly, her tone laced with a gentle concern, understanding the difficulty of the task you'd undertaken for the sake of your friends.

You remained silent for a moment, the weight of the recent events settling heavily on your shoulders. "I will be," you finally replied, the words carrying a hint of uncertainty, as if unsure of the aftermath of your actions and the impact they might have on the intricate balance of your relationships.

The journey to the chateau was enveloped in silence, a heavy curtain of unspoken thoughts that draped the car's interior. Each passing moment seemed to stretch in the weight of the quiet, the air thick with unexpressed emotions that lingered between you and Kiara.

You fought to hold back the tears, a silent war raging within, the ache in your chest a testament to the depth of the emotions that surged beneath the surface. The weight of recent events bore heavily on you, and the silent car ride provided a fleeting refuge where tears threatened to breach the dam of your composure.

Despite your efforts, a lone tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek, a silent testament to the emotional storm that raged within. You discreetly wiped it away, hoping to shield your vulnerability, the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears weaving an intricate tapestry of inner turmoil.

The car rolled to a halt near the chateau's entrance, the engine's hum fading into the quiet ambiance of the estate. Kiara cast a glance your way, a wordless assurance conveyed through her eyes, a silent understanding that transcended the unspoken.

As you stepped out, the familiar sight of the chateau greeted you, its grandeur contrasting sharply with the weight of emotions carried within. The walk to the entrance felt longer than usual, each step echoing the turmoil within, the unspoken conversation hanging heavily between you and Kiara.

Approaching the door, the details of the chateau seemed to blur, your focus consumed by the emotional tempest raging within. With a deep breath, you turned the doorknob, the heavy wooden door creaking softly as it opened to welcome you inside.

Stepping into the foyer, the chateau enveloped you, the coolness of the air offering a stark contrast to the warmth of the emotional turmoil within.

As your friends turned to greet you, their expectant smiles faltered into a puzzled expression as they registered the turmoil etched on your face. Their eyes mirrored a blend of confusion and concern, a stark contrast to the jovial atmosphere that typically enveloped their gatherings.

A fleeting moment passed, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken as your friends exchanged glances, a silent communication that conveyed their awareness of the unspoken turmoil lingering beneath the surface. The chapter's end was marked by the unspoken tension, leaving an uncertain ambiance that hung between you, hinting at the complexities awaiting their reckoning.

taglist:  @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrapap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Although you reciprocate Sanji's affection, you're not quite ready to let yourself be vulnerable with someone. Love, however, is patient - and Sanji is nothing if not loving.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Ningyo Archipelago earned its name from a rather tragic local legend: about a boy who fell in love with a mermaid, ningyo, but he was deathly afraid of the water. He stood on the shore, making a small step towards the sea each day. And the mermaid patiently waited for him, promising that he had nothing to be afraid of because she was looking out for him. Now, depending on who you ask, some of the villagers claim that the mermaid is still waiting for her lover while others are convinced they have already united. You're not quite sure which version you prefer.

At first, the myth seemed a bit cliche to you - undying, unconditional, selfless love. It belongs in a fairytale, along with leprechauns and a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. After all, no reasonable human is deluded enough to throw away their life for a love that may be. If Hell is paved with good intentions, then empty promises decorate its gates.

But your dismissal of the local legend quickly dissipates as guilt and longing tighten your chest:

Sanji.

You tried to keep him out at first, out of mercy for your own patchwork heart. Told yourself that each of his sweet words and skilfully crafted compliments were a consequence of his persona and not intimate feelings. But no matter how warily you guarded your heart, he still managed to find a way in. Some juvenile, innocent part of you wanted to welcome his affection with open arms, scream at the top of your lungs that you yearn for him in equal measure as he longs for you. However, the other aspect of you, the one that remembers the horrors you've seen and still feels the dread lingering under your skin after... well, everything - that part begs you to keep your feelings at bay or get a grip on yourself and quit this nonsense. What if you open up to Sanji and he finds you gruesome? Will he see your torn heart only to think its baggage too heavy? Or if... the history repeats itself.

No. Never. You can't let it happen again.

But then, you also can't live like this, hidden within yourself forever. You don't want to. Time goes on, yet you're stuck in place.

This fight with your own mind and soul has brought you to this quiet evening by the campfire. Archipelago's natives are most hospitable people, rejoicing at the handful of guests that have come to their shores. A night filled with delicacies, local moonshine, dances you knew no steps of. It all made for a heartfelt, happy celebration. Hours went by, soon energy dissipated and intoxication kicked in. One by one, both your friends and the natives fell asleep.

The last people standing are, as if fortune smiled down on the island, Sanji and you. He's sitting on the ground, back leaning against a log as he stares at the fire, thinking about something. Once in a while, he takes a sip of his drink. The light of untamted, yellow flames waltz across his face. Staring at him from afar, you wonder whether his hair would smell of campfire smoke if you snuggled to his side. Would the colour of his eyes turn closer to indigo in the darkness of the night?

You shake your head slightly. If you want to finally have this much-belated conversation with him, you need to think straight. You can fantasize about Sanji after he gives you a positive answer.

A playful smile enters Sanji's face when he notices you approaching. "Am I drunk or is that really an angel coming my way?" Despite the amount of alcohol he's consumed, he doesn't slur his words.

"More of a Devil's consort," you answer as you sit down next to him on the ground. Thankfully, your half-serious comment covers well your tension.

It's almost self-sabotage on your part that you sat a mere inch away from him. Something about his presence scrambles your thoughts, turning carefully prepared monologue into disjointed daydreams about the man next to you.

"You can lead me astray if you want," Sanji retorts in a low voice. If only he knew how much you'd love to.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your chest tightens further. Some primal fear residing in your bones tells you to run away, to discard the love you think you're feeling and stay in your safe, alienated shell. So what if he may be the best thing that has ever happened to you if this heartache he's bound to leave will surely be the final nail in your coffin.

"Right, about leading you..." you begin in a trembling voice.

The fear makes it hard to breathe, which doesn't escape Sanji's attention.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" he asks in a soft, concerned voice as his hand gently lays on top of yours.

You clench your other hand into a fist. The only way out of this situation is through and you're not sure if your both brave and strong enough to make the journey. Your fingernails will surely leave marks on the soft skin on the inside of you palm.

"I'm not oblivious to your advances, Sanji," you finally blurt out. The bluntness of your tone is a little too harsh than you wanted. "You're quite up-front about your feelings. And I..." you hang your voice. The words simply refuse to come out of your mouth as though a witch had put a curse on you.

"No, I get it," he nods along. Sanji's expression falls like he's about to crumble. He clenches his jaw before forcefully making himself continue in a sombre tone. "You don't like me in the same way. It's fine, really. I might die of a broken heart first but I'll be fine."

Dear Gods above and below, this is going way worse than your "What can go wrong?" scenario.

"It's not that, Sanji!" you exclaim suddenly. Equally quick you mumble an apology upon seeing Sanji's startled expression. Then, he furrows his eyebrows further, growing even more worried about you. The adoration and pain in his eyes break something in you. It's as if your consciousness has taken a step back and allowed a flood of words to spill out of your mouth. "I wish I could find the words to express how much you mean to me. That you're the only thing on my mind, day and night. But I've been through shit you don't even know about and I just... I think I need some time before we can act on our feelings."

We.

What a nice word. To be part of a union with another; to belong to someone. To never truly be alone.

The worry disappears from his beautiful, blue eyes. In turn, their expression becomes softer than you've ever seen. Sanji moves the hand that lay on top of yours to intertwine your fingers.

"I'll wait for you," he says casually, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Although you did consider this as a possible outcome, you never actually believed he'd say that. You weren't prepared for someone to be selfless towards you. It's never happened before.

"You don't have to," you try to dismiss him. Everything will be easier, but not better, if he changes his mind. "The world is filled with amazing people, I'm sure there's someone else who will love you better."

"I've already found the one I had been looking for, sweetheart," he answers slowly. Sanji brings your hand up to his lips and places a fleeting, chaste kiss on your skin. The softness of it all makes you want to cry and claw your own heart out. Why does it feel so good and so frightening at the same time?

"I don't know how long it will take me to get comfortable and open up." Your throat is too tight to speak comfortably. Tears pool in your eyes. "To be vulnerable with you."

"I will wait for you for an eternity if I have to. Whatever you need, just ask, little love."

Why does he have to love you beyond reason? Why is it so easy for him to break down your walls?

"I'm not sure I'm worth all this trouble," you whisper your confession into the silence of the night.

"Don't ever think you're a burden," he reprimands you. "You deserve only the best and I will be the happiest man alive if you let me be the one to provide. I love you more than you can imagine. I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

Having no strength to hold back, you burst into tears. Is it the relief that he's willing to put up with your fears? Or maybe the happiness that he still chooses to love you? It's hard to say. Your vision is blurry as tears roll down your cheeks. No matter how much you try to control yourself, you can't.

Sanji gently wipes away your tears. His gesture is almost fearful as though the worst thing he could do is force his affection too fast for your comfort. What if he hurts you? In Sanji's mind, there's no greater sin he could commit.

"Can I hold you?" he whispers his question.

"Yes, please," you manage to babble between sniffles.

He puts his hand under your knees and effortlessly places you across his lap. Sanji's arms wrap tightly around your quivering body. His hold feels like a sanctuary.

"Thank you for telling me," he says quietly against your hair. "It was very brave of you."

You don't answer, only further nuzzling into his shoulder. Huh... He does smell of campfire smoke.

[kaciidubs]

SHARE SOME THOUGHTS BOUT RIDING CHAN CUZ THE PICTURE OF HIM MAN SPREADING IS DRIVING ME INSANE.

But imagine sitting on the couch and sitting on his lap and he asks you to sit on his lap cuz it’s more comfortable aka he wants to feel you close to him and you obviously can’t say no to him and do as he wants and SOMEHOW you end up sitting on his Dick riding him like you life depends on it cuz that’s what he deserves 🫠🫠🫠 also Chan’s moan I-🫢🫢

Oh, darling, I think about that so often it should be a crime-

It started out so innocent; he asked if you wanted to watch an old childhood movie to get into the fall mood and you agreed, and now you were both half naked, making out on the dorm couch - the TV remote on the coffee table waiting to be put to use.

"Chris, the movie?" You laughed breathlessly against his lips, the sound melting into a moan as he pulled you further against him.

He simply let out a passive hum, lips making a trail down the side of your neck, "After - need you now."

The next thing you knew, your shared moans were filling the living room as you rode him with reckless abandon - his dick hitting every spot in your pussy with perfection on each thrust.

"Fuck- Baby, s-slow-" Chris choked on a whimper, his head falling to the back of the couch as his hands gripped your hips, "Slow down, please."

You watched him with a heated gaze, zoning in on the way his tongue ran across his plump lips. "Slower? Why should I?"

His dick twitched inside of you from the condescending tone in your voice, a whine escaping him as his eyebrows furrowed. "I-I'm not gonna last- feels so good, baby, oh my god."

"Aw, Channie," you cooed, one hand sliding up to thread your fingers through his hair before gripping at the roots and bringing his head up once more. "Go ahead, fill me up, baby."

His eyes snapped to your own, his hands squeezing you even more in an effort to fight back his orgasm. "But- ah, fuck, I need you to come first- I can't-"

"You'll get me to come, you always do," dipping your head forward, your lips brushed against his before pulling back, "but I want you to come for me, Channie - please, wanna make you feel good."

Whether it was the next fall of your hips, or tightening of your fingers in his hair, his body tensed underneath you as a cry of your name fell past his lips.

Your fingers massaged his scalp as you talked him down, biting back moans from the new warmth and aftershocks of his cock still inside of you.

A few minutes passed until his head fell to your shoulder, a short huff of a laugh shaking his shoulders.

"So... Movie?" You teased, humming when his lips pressed to the junction between your neck and shoulder.

"Fuck the movie," Chris pulled himself back, eyes burning with a newfound lust, "there's something else I'd rather watch."

[Unedited]

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

More Headcanons: Personality Quirks

Leo:

• calm and collected but also very stubborn. it's his way or the high way until you prove him otherwise

• feelings aren't foreign but definitely aren't something he's particularly good at. he's guarded when he's confronted with someone who's heart is on their sleeve

• feelings, that being said, aren't a sign of weakness in his eyes. go ahead, be angry or be sad, but get it together cause shit needs done

• only truly comforting if you're full blown sobbing, and depending on your relationship, big bro leo or soft boyfriend leo come out

• best at de-escalation unless he's the one fighting with the other person

• hates, hates, hates being wrong (i don't make the rules) but weirdly not afraid to apologize for being wrong, in his own way of course

• he hates the word sorry and believes it's just a word. since he's a man of few words, he prefers to show he's sorry. (i've mentioned it before and i'll die on this hill, king of acts of service)

• can dish advice like it's candy but for the life of him can't take his own advice

• the patience of an absolute saint, unless you're one of his brothers

• confrontation is his middle name

• sarcastic but very thoughtful and very appreciative

• besides mikey, he gets the most depressed because he feels like his only identity is a leader at times

• he strikes me as the kind of guy that just comes up out of nowhere and says "need some help with that?"

• willing to try anything once, open minded to an extent if it's not dangerous

• extremely trustworthy and loyal

Raph:

• hothead but the most sensitive out of all the brothers. very quick to cry

• feelings, like mikey, are shown on his sleeve. he makes it everyone's problem

• bad at communication...that's all i gotta say on that

• unhealthy projector of feelings but is willing to hear tips on how to do better

• the type to start crying if you start crying

• not the most patient in the world but if you're new something he tries (keyword: tries) to be as patient as possible

• he gets awkward if he knows he hurt someone's feelings and has to apologize. very bad at words and not the best at showing he's truly sorry

• horrible at advice

• chronic gaslighter in some situations (i don't make the rules)

• he truly does try to better himself if you call him out on his bs, he's able to hold himself accountable..in his own way

• even though he's a hothead, once you start crying, immediately he stops. the first sight of your lip quivering and he's shut up cause he crossed the line and he knows it

• doesn't mind confrontation

• loyal, loyal, loyal

• type to hold a grudge forever and never forget

• the "where's my hug at" guy

Donnie:

• his intelligence is his strongest suite but sometimes it goes to his head...literally

• very awkward with feelings and has no idea what to do in situations that call for comfort

• unless he's very comfortable with you, he will send you to someone else if you're upset so he doesn't upset you more

• not emotional but also not not emotional

• doesn't like confrontation at all unless you're nice about it

• best at communication out of all the guys because if he's bothered, he makes it very known

• besides mikey, he's very easily manipulated

• chronic overthinker

• very insecure in his abilities as a ninja

• hates to talk about his feelings and bottles them up until he explodes

• not one to get angry but he is the passive aggressive king

• germaphobe (no elabortion...he just is)

• he's very kind and very helpful when the situation calls for it

• he's the most gentle of all the guys

• definitely on the spectrum (not sure which, but he's definitely on one)

Mikey:

• number one most emotional out of all the brothers and doesn't show it

• jokester but is able to have meaningful and deep conversations the best

• most empathetic and compassionate but too quick to trust

• explosive temper that only comes out when his family or friends are in life threatening danger

• feelings are worn on his sleeve and he isn't ashamed to show them

• boundaries are an extreme work in progress (do with that what you will)

• sometimes is unable to decifer when not to make a joke

• will take jokes as far as they'll go to the point where the offense level is very questionable

• apologizes until it gets incredibly annoying

• will never be afraid to share his opinion but will always be quick to point out the good

• he cries all the time with no shame

• actually a very analytical and extreme outside the box thinker

• the "i had him/her first" friend if you get into a relationship

• very good listener when needed, but selective hearing most of the time

• he has adhd. nothing further needed.

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic scenario with Ghost (Simon Riley) from the Modern Warfare reboot? Can you also amp up the horror in this scenario 👀?

I'm assuming you mean from the newest Modern Warfare 2 so I'll do that! I have no played the game but I have seen the story. I'll try my best to amp up the horror but I'll have to see how well I executed it, it depends on what you wanted. I had to scrap my first draft as it wasn't going anywhere so I decided taking it in this direction would be better for horror. You may need to be more specific next time ^^; Sorry if it came out shorter than intended....

Phantasm

Yandere! Simon "Ghost" Riley Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Murder, Gore/Blood described, Breaking and entering, Implied forced relationship, Stealing, Dubious touches, Being watched while you sleep, Isolation, Toxic behavior.

Like a phantom, Ghost hovered around your life. He haunted your presence and you barely had a clue. He watched you with the skill of a soldier who's hidden in the shadows all his life.

Ghost didn't care if inserting himself into your life was wrong or not. In fact he barely even was part of it. Ghost always kept his distance, he always lurked in the shadows.

In a way it was like you were being haunted. If you caught sight of him in your peripherals he was usually gone the next time you looked around. He lurked and watched... but never revealed himself to you.

Ghost liked to watch you. He's quite the silent person due to having his fair share of stealth missions. Hiding in the dark and being quiet has become an important trait of his.

While you may not know much about his existence, he knows just about everything on yours. He knows what you do, he knows how you act, he knows who you have contact with.... It wasn't all that hard for him to hack into various spaces online to obtain info.

Ghost has an influence on your life despite not fully being a part of it. He wishes he could be closer but that would have to wait. For now, be keeps his spot open.

Those who get too close are inflicted with the curse that is Ghost. If he feels someone is too close to you, the one he's so fascinated about, he deals with them. There's no need to be so gorey, he could end their life easily with a silenced weapon after luring them away.

But there's a certain satisfaction when their blood covers his gloves.

He could use a gun and get things over with quickly. A knife allows him to see the life leave their eyes at his hands, however. It allows him to show how much power he has over the. It's... satisfying.

The disturbing part is that the people he removes from your life are typically close with you. Friends and possible lovers are usual picks. Your siblings or parents are considered but he holds himself back.

Removing rivals already strains you enough as is.

Ghost often finds himself holding back when it comes to you. Isolating you socially often eases the sickly concoction of jealous envy within him... but then he watches you mourn. He often ends up telling himself it's too soon to intervene.

Ghost is often there, even during your worst moments. He sees every mournful cry that he knows damn well he caused. He sees every little twitch and mumble in your sleep. He even sees all the things you do when you think you're alone.

It's all so cute... he loves the fact you're so unaware.

Ghost takes after his name when it comes to you. Like a ghost he slips into your home in the late hours of the night occasionally. He watches you as you sleep, maybe even lightly stroking your skin as you slumber away.

Ghost takes small memorabilia to take with him. He's always quiet, completely silent as he leaves with little implication he was there. The only thing you wake up to is you possibly misplacing some items and a breezy window.

Ghost prefers to keep things this way. As much as he'd like to barge in on your life to comfort and love you like he wants, he can't. He has to be patient and slowly tiptoe around your life.

The most you know of his presence is slight glances and ghostly touches at night. The smell of metallic blood sometimes greets your nose and it chills you to the bone. It's even worse when you get word someone close to you has gone missing again.

Ghost is aware him manipulating your life like this only hurts you. The murder, the stalking, it all makes you paranoid and terrified. He's hurting you for his own selfish gain.

Yet he justifies it by telling himself he'll be closer to you soon.

For now things will be soft touches while you're unaware. For now he'll resort to dirty work to keep others away. For now he'll haunt your life like a ghost until the time is just right.

Even now as he slips into your window again to kneel beside your body, he thinks of the future.

Soon he'll no longer be a ghost to you. Soon he'll introduce himself and become close to you. He'll try to take things slow but will take what he wants if he feels he's losing you.

The future between you holds so much potential in his eyes. As he watches you quietly while you sleep and quietly slips his hand into yours, he thinks of it all. You two could be great for each other.

Soon... he won't just have to be a phantom in your life. You won't have to question if he's really there or not. You'll know he's with you.

Unfortunately, you may then know everything.

You'll know the murder he's done. You'll learn why you smell blood on him and why you're so alone. He'll scare you like a ghost if he doesn't play things right.

The fear of pushing you away keeps Ghost from giving into his desires fully. He can't get ahead of himself. Even if he wants to take his chances and kiss those lips of yours or lay next to you... he knows better.

Ghost above all else is a tactical soldier. He can't rush things until he has a plan. Watching you and barely being a part of your life will have to do.

A barely audible sigh leave him as he strokes your cheek. Afterwards he backs away and makes his way back towards your window. Like a phantom, he's gone in an instant.

Only he knows he'll be back the next night to watch you...

Perhaps even the next few nights after that... all until everything's perfect and he can claim you as his.

[overleftdown]

this is going to be my somewhat-brief analysis (buckle in, it's not brief at all) of preluding scenes to farleigh and olivers... scene, lmao. because i can't read micro-expressions and social cues IRL, but i can for movies! also, i want to give my understanding of farleigh's character using the most substantial part of his arc. i disagree so much with a lot of people's takes on farleigh. i needed to talk extensively about it.

[0:58:46] farleigh makes eye contact with a footman. this is one of the footmen that farleigh mentions to felix in a later scene, which i'll also go into. what's interesting about this subtle interaction is how wildly differently you could consider it, depending on how you choose to view farleigh as a character. if you go the "mirror of oliver," route, then this eye contact could be the moment farleigh decides the route he's going to take to confront felix.

on the other hand, the hand that i believe makes more sense, farleigh is genuine in his confrontation with felix. the eye contact he shares with the footman is reciprocated; the footman holds it, even as his body pulls back and his head turns. this gives the idea that they are making a connection. the expression farleigh makes afterwards is also an indication that farleigh isn't plotting or scheming to earn pity points; he feels a connection and comradery with the only other black people at saltburn. when the footman turns away, unneeded anymore (this can be a parallel to farleigh), farleigh glances down, back up, then purses his lips. he looks dejected, in my opinion. this is immediately followed by farleigh's dig at oliver; "i think oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window.

food for thought.

[0:59:9] elsbeth: you can invite all your friends. farleigh: what friends?

this can obviously be a petty dig. and it is, in some ways. but i think a lot of these petty digs are because farleigh has been here before. he has watched his cousin drag home mediocre and tragic (presumably) white boys for perceived self-benefit. whether felix wants entertainment, wants to quell his guilty conscious (both of which are motivations for his mother), felix seems to have these fleeting possessive relationships with the friends he brings back to saltburn. he could also be queer and deeply repressed, lmfao.

i digress; farleigh is sick and tired. the first thing he says to oliver, before oliver even got to felix, was bitchy as all hell. after that, farleigh had more incentive to belittle oliver; yes, his comments about mannerisms, class, and overall character were petty. they were also all of the qualities that farleigh couldn't afford to have. farleigh is pointing out that oliver has no social life, yet still gets a 200-person party full of people that don't even know his name. this is tragically unfair, at least in farleigh's mind.

[1:01:25] felix: and fucking farleigh, what a little shit stirrer. oliver: well, someone has to entertain us all. felix: ...right. oliver: that's why we love him.

there's a clear disregard of humanity and depth, when felix concedes that farleigh is "entertainment." the sheer fact that felix would immediately believe oliver, a "stranger (as venetia so eloquently puts)" over a close family member, is odd on it's own. there are probably more reasons for distrust; everyone in saltburn is a shit stirrer, and farleigh does put on a particularly good show.

that's intentional, though. farleigh is very intentionally entertainment. otherwise, why would the cattons keep him around? they're welcoming people to their house as family, because they want a break from the reality of soul sucking wealth. because they want entertainment. elsbeth with her friend, who's only real personality traits are being pitiful and visibly different. felix, with his summer pet projects like oliver. farleigh can't be a temporary show; he needs to keep coming back. he needs sir james to support his mother.

[1:02:40] farleigh: i'm not saying my mother isn't completely idiotic when it comes to money. felix: you just have to be firm with her. farleigh: well i can't call her and tell her no! felix: i know, i know, you've said that. i know, i understand. farleigh: no, you don't know! you don't, it's humiliating. felix: it's very hard.

felix's approach to discussing other people's issues--that he does not relate to--makes me giggle sometimes. not that he's malicious or a fumbling idiot, but because of this scene specifically. in just this chunk of dialogue, you have the "i understand" and "you don't understand" conflict. an age old one. a common representation of someone who has never lived a specific struggle yet frames themselves as knowledgeable. felix seems to enjoy the "it's very hard" verbiage. the manner in which he speaks to oliver about his supposed impoverishment and struggles is very similar to the way he speaks to farleigh, in this scene.

i don't know what else to say about this. you can make your own inferences on felix's dialogue, i suppose.

[1:02:50] farleigh: i'm sorry, but it's a bit fucking shitty. you're all throwing oliver a party for 200 people while my mother lives in squalor. felix: well, she's hardly living in squalor, mate. farleigh: well she can't pay her bills so she will be! okay? at the rate she's going, she will be.

GAH. again, this dialogue can be considered in two different ways. farleigh could be hyperbolizing in order to play into the catton savior complex. or he could be completely genuine in his anxiety surrounding his mother's finances. it's very important that you recognize the fact that farleigh isn't arguing about himself, in this situation. he's talking about his mother. later in the conversation, he recenters himself as a person of color. but the original conflict is about whether or not his mom is living comfortably. this arguably affects him, but not entirely. he could continue to maintain his oxford-student-and-saltburn-resident character and continue to frolic around while his mom struggles to make responsible decisions.

[1:03:02] felix: right, well that's exactly why dads concerned about helping her. he doesn't want to enable her. he wants her to learn how to stand on her own two feet. farleigh: yeah, like he does?

and farleigh ate.

[1:03:09] farleigh: i mean, you know how this looks, right? making me come to you with a begging bowl. felix: what are you implying? farleigh: i think you know what i'm implying, felix. why don't you ask liam and joshua? felix: who... who the fuck are liam and joshua!? farleigh: ...your footmen.

farleigh's mannerisms in this portion of the scene GAG me. the easy confidence, the self-assured and confrontational attitude. the cocky wave of his shoulders and tilt of his head. he smirks, scoffs, makes and holds eye contact as emphasis to what he is accusing. the way he says "i think you know what i'm implying" even though i'm not quite sure if felix did. this really hammers in the implicit nature of the cattons' treatment of farleigh.

[1:03:33] felix: oh, oh. that is... that is low, farleigh. farleigh: okay. felix: jesus christ, mate! seriously, is that where you wanna take this!? farleigh: right. felix: make it a race thing!? what the fuck! i mean, we're your family, we hardly even notice that you're... different, or anything like that! farleigh: mmm. felix: i never know our footmen's names!

GAGGED. i eat up this scene and lick my fingers. "wohohoho, i don't see color! i can't believe you'd make it a race thing!" i know i should cut felix some slack, but this is just a little too real. although i've cut farleigh some slack for his classism.

the complete change in farleigh's mannerisms from the previous timestamp to this one is EDIBLE. i can't cope with it. his smile as felix says "that is low" is so painfully real. it says "i've been here before and maybe i was expecting this." for a second, felix is almost entertainingly cliche. then the exasperation hits. farleigh just looks tired. he blinks rapidly, smooths over his eyebrow with his hand, vocalizes his disbelief in felix's denial. "we hardly even notice you're different," to which farleigh crosses his arms (defensive), raises his eyebrows, nods along.

i won't include the final few lines of this conversation cuz i'm blabbing FAR too much, but farleigh's expressions of absolutely exhaustion and disappointment as felix says they've "been more generous then most"... i'm so sick. it doesn't matter what other families would do, because this family passes out charity like it's their favorite pastime. farleigh is your best american girl.

oliver, overhearing this conversation, immediately knows what his next plan of action is. compare himself to farleigh. and really, it's funny, because oliver misses the obvious differences between him and farleigh. just like everyone else. he will never feel different, not in the same way farleigh does. not with farleigh's relationship to the cattons, the legacy of his parents, and his blackness.

[1:06:32] (godfather's karaoke scene, AKA apple bottom jeans. he's a disgusting manchild and he throws his jacket at his wife.) is it odd to point out that another one of the only visible black characters is being degraded/mistreated/disregarded? not crazy, right? especially following the conversation about bias two scenes ago.

[1:07:02] farleigh: y'know, i think i'd fuck richard the III. he's so insecure, so you'd know he'd put in the work, right? oliver: or you could just fuck me, right?

here, i think there's a level of projection that farleigh is using in his line about insecurity. not only is it made known that farleigh uses sex as a tool (with teachers, specifically), but it's also made known that farleigh believes/knows that he is treated differently due to his race and/or family history. oliver seems to have clocked this, considering he relates himself to richard the III, then tells farleigh they have similar experiences.

[1:07:34] oliver: y'know, if you ever wanna talk to anyone, you can talk to me, farleigh. farleigh: ...what do you mean? oliver: well, i know you're going through a hard time at home. i know how that feels, when things are so precarious. it's terrifying... and lonely. and it must be so fucking weird, having to ask them for everything. and i know you fucking hate me. farleigh: i... i don't hate you. oliver: but... if you ever wanted me to talk to them, to see if there's... if i can help in any way... just ask. farleigh: ...okay.

i love this movie. have i said that yet? i bet you definitely couldn't tell by this post. this conversation is so... there's so much to talk about.

i'll start with some of my favorite of farleigh's mannerisms/expressions. when oliver first cuts their... tensions with "you can talk to me," farleigh pulls back slightly, sits up slightly, looks across oliver's face. there's a level of shock to it, but. farleigh was comfortable with oliver, his sworn enemy, flirting with him. yet, he pulled back at a genuine offer of support. some see this as farleigh always wanting oliver sexually, but i think it's more nuanced than that. when oliver says "terrifying... and lonely" that's when the camera cuts back to farleigh. he previously wore a half-smile that is now dropping; "lonely" was the hardest word to swallow. his lip is quivering. he looks up in an almost-eye roll when he says, "i don't hate you." he's laughing when oliver finishes, like he finds it all funny, yet the way he says "okay" makes him seem genuine. however... clearly not, considering the next portion of this scene!

even though oliver is lying out of his ass, everything he's saying is a description of farleigh. people grossly misunderstand farleigh's character, even when it's laid onto a banquette sized table through this portion of the movie. he's insecure, desperate, terrified, unsure, and lonely. farleigh, with so many friends and so many scandalous choices, is so fucking lonely. he knows he doesn't belong here, so he jams his ill-fitting puzzle piece into the saltburn jigsaw and crosses his fingers.

he tells oliver he doesn't hate him, and he looks like he's struggling to spit it out. he looks up towards the ceiling, closes his eyes like he's gathering himself. again, people take this as a bonding moment. the next portion of the scene contradicts this. honestly, i'm not completely sure, either. i think he's honest when he says he doesn't hate oliver. so, what? he's jealous, definitely. he wants to hold the same power as oliver, a foreign entity with somehow so much more privilege than farleigh. maybe that bred a certain kind of infatuation; the need to emulate what you'll never be. of course, he sees himself in the boys felix brings home; they, just like farleigh, need or want something from the cattons (although i object to the idea that farleigh is somehow "a mirror" of oliver). do what you will with this word vomit, i don't know where i'm going here.

and OH MY GOD "if you ever wanted me to talk to them, to see if there's... if i can help in any way," is diabolical. so terribly diabolical. the sheer idea that oliver knows, is pummeling it into farleigh's face, that he has authority over farleigh's life like that? that he knew felix for six months and he can somehow "talk to" farleigh's family about treating farleigh better... vomit inducing. farleigh is actually your best american girl.

[1:09:39] (karaoke scene) elsbeth, so uncomfortable with the idea that oliver is using them. i suppose that's the manner of wealthy people; they don't want to believe that they're only good for their money. but... they did that to themselves, in a way. they enjoy the pet projects, the charity work, the ego boost that comes with inviting the "lesser" to saltburn. hanjob on a haybale, golden big boy summer, right? everyone in the room is scandalized. farleigh is having the time of his fucking life. yet, here's the kicker,

[1:10:10] oliver: this is your song too, farleigh. come finish it. farleigh: only if you insist!

and then farleigh gives the performance of his life, by the way. people died. but... nobody is uncomfortable. literally no one. no one shudders or gasps at the scandal of oliver saying "this is your song, too" over the karaoke microphone; everyone heard. nobody cares. they all know. they start clapping farleigh on, cheering. elsbeth relaxes back onto her bed of cushions, because farleigh is entertaining. the change in mood is soooo... interesting.

[1:10:45] curse this scene, i don't even want to talk about it. it was hot, oliver and farleigh are so homoerotic, whatever yadayada. just like every other sexual scene in this movie, it is riddled with a suffocating kind of uncomfortable tension. we are made intimate third-party witnesses to carnal, sinful, emotionally ambiguous scenes. when i pointed out farleigh seemed more comfortable with flirting then comfort, when i said farleigh uses sex as a tool, when i said farleigh was projecting with "he's so insecure, so you know he'd put in the work." i just overthink. but any person that has sexual relationships with teachers needs intensive therapy and that cannot be denied. however, it's oliver, that uses sex as a tool throughout this movie. another uncomfortable parallel between the two characters.

something about farleigh's expression throughout this scene is... kind of hurtful. the way the moonlight just barely illuminates the light in his eyes, whereas any detail of oliver's face is shrouded in darkness. it make's farleigh look young, innocent, real. (sidenote, as i'm watching, i have to mention this. the way farleigh says that second "no" is so funny. "...no...?" LMFAO). man, i don't even know what to say, past this. the whole dominant dynamic, farleigh saying "i'm going to behave" is a little too painful considering the context leading up to this scene. it's freaky. it's so very oliver.

this is way too long but i could make so many more connections with their final confrontation at oliver's birthday party. i'm drowning in thoughts. what i really wanted to highlight was how ambiguous farleigh's character is, and how differently a lot of his scenes can be perceived. i've decided that farleigh is a sympathetic character, similar to oliver but so much less powerful. some people hate farleigh! so. there's that. the end! thanks to anyone who read this whole thing!

[fizzy-blood]

Coral again 🪸🫡

Tim / Masky nsfw headcanons PLS

Tim & Masky Headcanons🌲 [NSFW]

I ACCIDENTALLY HAD THIS POST DELETED TWICE AND I'M GOING INSANE!! Also, you're the first anon I've had that named themselves so congrats on that ^_^ also gn reader/'S/O'. Thank you so much for sending in two asks! I'll post the first one when I can <3 /p

WARNING: NSFW/18+ CONTENT [Breeding kink, spanking/hitting, orgasm denial, mentions of degrading, kinda public sex? Gun violence!!(Yay!!!/s)]

Tim

I'm gonna be honest with y'all... He's kinda vanilla.. Not that there's anything wrong with that ofc... But I know this fandom is full of freaks (ME INCLUDED)

But I do think he has some sort of breeding kink

Idk man but the idea of getting his S/O (you) knocked up just does something to him (even if that's not possible)

I feel like he would have wanted kids at some point in his life and the idea of getting you pregnant probably helps with that... Even if raising a child would be kinda impossible with his current situation...

Now... I'm gonna be honest again... He isn't super big...

It's average size so around 5 inches (12-13 cm for my fellow maple syrup drinkers... Also other non American folks)

But he's definitely got more girth than the average person!

And he's also surprisingly good in bed? Like??

He's very sweet and tries his best to be gentle (but sometimes gets a bit rougher when he's close)

If you want him to be rough or go faster he will... But he'll be asking if you're ok immediately after you both finish! (Aftercare with this man is 🤤 but more on that later)

And I did say he was very sweet so I guess I should just specify that he likes to praise you

It's very sappy for someone who's normally kinda rude to everyone but it's still a great experience!

Though he doesn't really like to shave or trim to often... But if you asked really nicely he'd probably do it a bit more often (I love hairy men 🗣️)

Masky

But Masky on the other hand? Ha! He'd spit in your face and tell you to keep quiet while he pounds into you... (... Me next... OMG WHO SAID THAT!?)

But seriously... This guy will barely talk during sex, but when he does it's almost always to degrade you or order you around

And if you don't do as he says there are two punishments

The first one only works if he had any control over you being able to finish up and cum

Aka, orgasm denial!

He'll do what he wants to do and just leave you in whatever state you're in

And if not? If he can't control you like that?

Spanking!

Now, he prefers to use his hand but will use a paddle or some sort of object if he has one nearby

But again, normally uses his hand for it

He'll force you to bend over his knees or lay across his lap so he can do it properly

He also likes making you count how many

And if you mess up? He'll start over and make you count again...

Also... Kinda unrelated but this guy loves fucking you in the middle of the woods for some reason?

Against a tree or on the ground... Doesn't really matter as long as you're outside...

And yes, a hiker did come across it once... The guy almost immediately got shot by Masky

Speaking of getting shot! He almost immediately put the guy to your head with the safety off while he was fucking you. No, he did not apologize!

Over all kind of a lot... Not bad if you're into being used like that though...

After care!!

(Masky doesn't really do aftercare so this is all Tim)

He'll lay with you for a bit before slowly getting up and stretching

After that he'll look down at you and ask if you need water or food or maybe even a bath..

If you feel like you're struggling to walk he'll try to carry around his cabin or your house (depending on where you guys were)

If you have a bath he'll sit next to the tub and talk to you, making sure you're alright and everything

And if you ask him really nicely he might even join you in there!!

After that he'll help you dry off and take you back to bed to sleep (and cuddle)

Aftercare is a 10/10 experience honestly

AHHH! FINALLY DID IT! (And I actually really liked this one) thank you again for sending in the ask and I hope you enjoyed this ^_^ and again, asks are open

-Fizz

[Also! Pill/cigarette dividers by @sister-lucifer ]

[bangchansbackohmygod]

Hello, how are you doing?💗🌸

So I don't know if your requests are open or if you take any requests at all so feel free to delete this.

I was wondering if you could do a headcanon for yandere stray kids where they aren't just friends with the reader but not dating yet? Not fwb, just really crossing the line of friends and lovers.

Also sorry for any mistakes it's just that English is not my first language. And I hope you have a nice day!!🤗✨️

This lovely request came in a very long time ago, so I don't know if the anon is still following, but I still want to answer it because I just adore a pining yandere!

Just the Hyung Line for now, I'll post the Maknaes if y'all are interested!

Chan: The name of the game is isolation. He won't get rid of all your other friends, oh no, he's far too smart for that. Plus, as twisted as his love is, there's enough pureness in there that at least part of him wants you to live a happy normal life. He just wants you to live that happy normal life with him. So he builds your trust with a thousand little favors. Dropping off a snack for you when you have a long work shift, seconding your choice of film during group movie nights, and even picking up the phone when you need to rant regardless of his schedule. He's your rock, and your other friends trust him too just by seeing how sweet he is to you. So when he puts on a fake sad expression and says "I just don't understand *****, no matter how nice I am to him he's so rude back", you don't hesitate to start leaving that person on read. He's careful with the timing, only one or two per year. Sometimes he even plants the seed of doubt in one of your unknowing friends instead. They tell you about this "bully", and how Chan was "trying to brave through it so you wouldn't be hurt", following his composition like the notes he plucks out on his piano. Without your noticing, you're slowing being locked into a cage of dependency, where the only person in your life who is without question is Chan. He hasn't confessed yet, but he'll take a decade if he needs to so that when he does you'll have no reason to think twice.

Lee Know: Cat-sitting for Minho was something he asked for at least once a month, using his tours and schedules as an excuse. True, they lived with his parents, but he'd put on an effortless show of filial piety, taking his parents with him to foreign countries or paying for weekend getaways "just because he wants to repay them for raising him". The truth is, his parents' house and the three fluffy critters are the perfect recipe to get your guard down. You bring along your softest jammies and your favorite sleepytime tea, building yourself a little nest to snuggle into once you've finished checking the litter and filling the food and water bowls. Minho can't help but light up whenever he sees you giggling at a kdrama in his living room, half asleep and surrounded by his fur babies. How can he see you right now? The cameras. The tiny cameras he's installed all over the house just for your visits. By the tv, in the ceramic figurine in the kitchen, even in some of the kitties' more elaborate scratching posts. Your babysitting adventures are his favorite streaming channel, his ray of light when he has to be away from you. You may just be his friend now, but he likes to think of your little unknowing dates as practice for when you're his pretty little housewife. One day he'll come home to you waiting for him like that, his cold phone screen today replaced with the softness of your lips tomorrow.

Changbin: It's the Pretend Boyfriend trope taken just a step too far. It started with him warding off some creep at a party who kept trying to hand you drinks. A thick bicep around your shoulder and a "yo man, she's taken" got the unwanted attention off your back and earned him a smile and a thank you. Then he offered up a selfie that you could send to an ex that kept asking to get back together, saying that once he knew you'd moved on you'd finally be rid of him. Changbin even told you to give his number to the jerk, that he'd "act" like a protective lover if your ex didn't buy the bluff. The charade worked, and this time he got a thank you, a hug, and a bowl of ramen on you next time he had time to grab lunch. He was hooked. More and more, whenever the two of you were in public, he'd suddenly pull you in by the waist or plant his hand on the wall next to your head. He'd whisper that a guy across from you in the arcade was looking at you funny, and "it's probably better if he doesn't think he has a chance with you". The dim lights hide the blush on his cheeks and the giddiness in his eyes. You avert your own gaze and thank him as always, too flustered by his closeness to bother looking past him at the offender. It's a good thing you don't, actually. He'd rather you didn't know that over half the time there isn't anyone there.

Hyunjin: What else? You're his muse. He loves to paint, and he loves to paint you, and despite your own insecurities you can't deny that the you he translates through his art is nothing short of beautiful. It started as a portrait he requested you sit for, your insistence he find a better model shooed away with promises that he was painting all the members and some of the staff, too, for variety's sake (he's lying). He finishes the piece in record time, but since you can't see the canvas from your stool he fusses about and pretends to add lines when in truth his brush has long gone dry and his long gazes at your form aren't to get the curve of your nose right but simply for his delight. After the first painting he insists on another, and flattery tempts you to accept. You get more comfortable with each painting, and he gets bolder in turn. He begins picking out your clothes, styling your hair, even applying your makeup. The fingertips adjusting your pose before he begins slowly transition from a feather-light touch to something heavy and lingering. But he's in no hurry to break the tension he hopes you feel. As long as he has this time with you, he's content. With a shuddering breath, he dips his brush into the paint and etches his love for you into the canvas once again.

(Part 2 with the Maknae Line?)

[queer-reader-07]

a love letter to trans romance

because i can't be normal about media and i'm making it y'all's problems

hi hello and welcome to my mildly unhinged ramblings about love and gender. this post comes to you in three sections, enjoy <3

--

t4t romance novels made me believe in love again

the first romance book i ever read was The Feeling of Falling in Love by Mason Deaver. TFOFIL is a t4t (trans for trans) romance that follows a teenage trans boy, Neil Kearney, and a figuring-out-their-gender teen, Wyatt Fowler, as they get themselves wrapped up in peak YA romcom shenaniganary and eventually fall in love. cute, right? just a fun little romcom, not much more to it?

yeah well that's what i thought going in, but coming out of that book i was in tears. tears because i'd never read a story about trans love before. tears because at that point in my life i'd never allowed myself to fully claim the word "trans." tears because Wyatt made me feel so seen and so real.

there's this one scene where Wyatt is talking to Neil and they describe themself as being the kind of person who sometimes wants to wear makeup and dresses, but other times they like their body hair and scruffy beard. and i just remember nodding along and then absolutely melting because Neil takes it in stride, he comforts Wyatt and let's them know that they don't need to have it figured out just yet. Neil makes it clear that he's there, and that Wyatt doesn't need to come out to anyone unless they're ready.

Mason Deaver has another t4t romance, Okay, Cupid. and that similarly had me in my feels because there is something so special about finding people who embrace you for all that you are.

every t4t romance I've read has one thing in common, the fact that the love interests do not love each despite the other's transness. their transness is not an obstacle to love or to attraction or to adoration, it is an object of it. their transness is something to be admired and to be loved and to be cared for. it is not something the other has to "get over."

reading The Feeling of Falling in Love was the first time i ever thought to myself "maybe, just maybe, i can call myself trans and still be loved." because up until that point i hadn't let myself accept that i was some flavor of trans. up until that point i'd said "not cis" without ever saying trans because i was so scared my being trans would make me unlovable. t4t romance books showed me how wrong i was. they showed me that my ability to be loved was not dependent on my girlhood.

ha you thought i could write something this long on tumblr and NOT mention good omens? think again bestie

i have held a trans reading of crowley since i read the book and the show only solidified it for me. crowley canonically plays with gender.

he's dressed femme during the crucifixion scene, his modern look is a mix of men's and women's pieces, his hair is a Whole Thing in and of itself. i could go on but i digress.

but it's not just the way he plays with gender that informs my trans reading of him. it's also how his character arc can very easily be read as an allegory for transness.

an angel who falls (a girl who isn't a girl anymore)

a fallen angel turned demon (a girl who is a boy now)

a demon who isn't really a demon anymore (a used to be girl, a thought to be boy, is now nonbinary)

girl = angel and boy = demon is entirely arbitrary in this please don't read into it

now, you may be thinking "A how in god's name does this apply to trans romance?" to which i say, aziraphale falls in love with every version of crowley. aziraphale beams heart eyes at angel!crowley before the beginning and loves crowley as a demon for millennia and is so deeply and unabashedly in love with crowley in his not-quite-demon form of s2.

aziraphale loves all the versions of crowley because crowley's angel or demon-ness (gender) is not the reason aziraphale loves crowley. aziraphale doesn't love crowley because he's a demon or because he used to be an angel, aziraphale loves crowley because it's crowley. crowley in whatever clothes he chooses to where, crowley with whatever hairstyle he's fancying at the moment, crowley as he inhabits the shades of grey just a little more.

to me, that is so easy to read as a trans love story. you could argue it's t4t depending on how you read aziraphale, but to me, it's at the very least a love story between a mostly-demon who gets down to some gender fuckery and an angel who loves him very much.

fuck it let's talk about fanfiction

i don't think i could make this post without mentioning @ineffabildaddy's fic I'm Beginning to See the Light.

i have a complicated relationship with my body. i don't plan to ever medically transition because i don't want to make any permanent changes to my body. but there are days where all i want is to have a flat chest and hips that are flush with the rest of my body but instead i'm stuck with tits and an hourglass figure cis people always seem to focus on.

i don't hate my body, but the idea that anyone could look at it and not just see A Woman is beyond me. i walk through life being perceived as a very feminine woman even on the days that i feel the most androgynous. the idea that a lover could look at my body and still see me for who i am feels like a dream that could never happen.

and IBTSTL slapped me (lovingly) across the face with the message that, actually, i can be loved as my whole self and that there are people out there who don't look at me and see A Woman and those people don't love me any less. IBTSTL made me feel safe in my trans body because it said "you are worthy of love and adoration because your transness is not something to get past it is something to admire. it is something to love."

--

i think the point i'm trying to make here is this: trans love stories are so special to me. they've been so vital in my own journey to love and accept myself. they're the reason i can imagine myself maybe having romantic love in the future.

representation matters, it can quite literally change your life.

[ray935sworld]

#please elaborate on Bez and hugs in the academy

Hi! Thank you so much for asking! I really enjoyed making this.

This is what my research shows: (Please remember, I have no special qualification or knowledge when it comes to psychology beside some basics. The analyses made in this post are fully based on personal experience/ emotions)

First off, we have the 'Bez hugs'. The way he hugs (the accademy) is in a way to get the most physical contact. He isn't just hugging with his arms or against the others chest. Nope. He's going all in. He slams both his arms around the other person's shoulder and tries to hold them as close as possible. Please note that he is kind of trying to burry his head in their necks. And he isn't standing straight up as well. He aims to be smaller than the other which kind of gives you the feeling of being held by them. He tries to make them hug him which often supports someone who craves physical contact. It can give them the feeling of not being the one needing/ asking for the hug (despite being the one) which lowers the feeling of annoying someone with their personal needs. It's often associated with getting comfort without guilt of being needy, which can be an issue for people with physical touch as love language. What I am saying is that the way Bez hugs is maximum body contact while being in a protective hold. (This somehow even applies to Rubik)

Then there is the casual physical contact: There seems to be a habit of kind of leaning into the person he is standing next to. Especially if it's standing shoulder to shoulder and some upper body contact. Maybe he likes standing close to someone in a way that there is no to very little personal space. (right Migno picture is the best example. Those two are pressed together like their life depends on it) And if you look at Migno/ Pecco, they enjoy it too and are properly used to it. I mean, in the Bez interviewing Pecco after winning the championship they established physical contact pretty quickly.

And we can also see a head tilt habit. From experience it's a good way to end up head against shoulder (I'm just gonna assume he doesn't do it for the baby girl effect) which is like the maximum of comfort someone can get. Like resting your head against someone's shoulder is endgame! It's giving sleepy vibes and portrays complete trust but is also a very good way of physical contact due to the closeness of the others head to very vulnerable parts of the human body (throat, heart, u name it) (okay that might have been a weird assessment but what I mean is it shows a deep trust from a biological side)

Next up: Touching and touched (okay that sounds weird)

But what I mean is that there is a constant reassurance though physical touch via hands. In pictures the academy often have their arms around each other (okay it's a common pose for pictures but we'll ignore that caus it'd destroy my point. But this whole post relies on photos so I am just gonna assume that it's the same in private) Pls note that on the left picture, Bez (could also be Franky but if it was it'd be a very weird pose so I assume it's Bez) has his hands on Vale's shoulder. At the same time Pecco is hanging on Bez with a seeminly strong grip. He hold onto him and I guess adds some pressure. I think the comfort of your shoulder being hold by someone close to you is common. It gives reassurance and is very grounding.

The academy group photo is actually very intresting to analyse. Cause on the first look there is only the obvious contact between Marco and Franky. Then you notice that Bez is also touching Cele. We can't see Luca's 2nd hand. It's not impossible that he is touching Bez back but thats just guessing. Now there is Franky resting his hand on Migno's shoulder as well. And Franky on the other hand is being hugged by Vale. Pecco is hugged by him as well. (he has his hands around their waist). So may I point out that their is physical contact between all of them in some way??? Even though simply from the pose, touching Cele and Migno would have been absolutly unnecessary. But I love it. It kind of shows how close they are and that there is some kind of connection between them.

A little thing I noticed about Vale - he sometimes has his hands on the academy boys sides or shoulders. Personally I assosicate that with care and kindness, like a parent/ teacher would do, which is kind of cute

Furthermore I'd like to point out the "unnecessary" contact.

Cause... Bez, you're doing a handshake with Digga. WHY THE FUCK IS YOUR HAND SO CLOSE TO HIS ASS??? (italians doing italian things, I guess)

Okay, now for real, there is a physical closeness without an actual touch

But what I mean is that Marco likes to be close and pays attention to the people around him/ people he likes. I mean, Marrco basically stared at Vale the whole time when he was talking/ at the race track. Like, he could have looked at the camera. But instead he carefully watched him while he was speaking. Also he was at the garage at WEC and in some shots you could see that he stayed behind Vale but very, very close and got happily closer to him when he was asked. (puppy behaviour)

Okay, the following pictures aren't relevant but I just found them again and I love them

The left one was I think when Vale retired. Pls remember that it was Bez too that was later at the box and really got the party going. Sadly I couldn't find it, but I think I remember seeing a video of Bez laughing and screaming, banging a rhythm in the box and everyone sang.

And the other one... Silly Migno. I love him.

Okay making that post was fun. I just love the whole Bez - academy relationship. It's so interesting to me. And I think the physical touch they provide and get is so wholesome. I honestly could go on for longer :)

And obviously it's all speculations. I just assume they are similar in private cause they all seem very comfortable with physical touch and MotoGP rider aren't known for faking emotions

[mxtives]

where she goes

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

rating: mature

word count: 3.6k+

cw: nsfw | 18+, roommates w/ sexual tension, arousal, biting, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, rough sex, praise, unprotected, p in v

story summary: miguel has finally had enough of you walking around the apartment half naked. so he catches you off guard this time.

notes: I haven’t even watched the movie yet so if there’s any spoilers, they’re v minor. this is also my first tumblr post n I have no idea how to work this 😭 it messed up all my formatting when I brought it over from ao3, where I first posted it. either way I hope it’s still enjoyable

song I named the fic after bc I have no creativity :D

He pressed harder against your backside, bringing your hips flush to the marble counter. By this point you were certain that he wasn't trying to hide the heat just below his waist band. "Your-"

"Don't move," he spoke gruffly, just above a whisper. You stilled as his arms encircled your waist and he leaned his head into the crook of your shoulder, inhaling deeply. He exhaled just as heavily, fingers gripping your sides like his life depended on it.

"Miguel-!" You started, trying to turn your head to face him. One of his hands flew to your jaw, gripping your chin tightly and forcing your gaze forward toward the wall where you could see the shadow of his overwhelmingly large figure stretching across the cabinets before you. "Stop that," he mumbled it against your neck, following up with a harsh bite. You felt his fangs sink into your skin, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to leave an impression. Miguel O'Hara was here. It brought a loud whine from your throat and he lifted his head from your neck in response.

"You can't be prancing around in my apartment in this getup," Miguel grunted, lips against your ear. His hand began to travel, from your waist upward, bringing the hem of your tank with it. "For fucks sake," he said, tugging your tank down harshly. The collar dipped, exposing more of your chest along the way.

"But it's just us in here..." you trailed off as you felt his fingers creep under your tank, now pressing against the base of your ribcage.

"Exactly. Do you even know-!" He cut himself off with a heavy sigh. "Oh you don't know. You don't know at all," he said darkly. His hand didn't stop. Soon it was pressed between your breasts. You swallowed weekly, wanting so badly to look up and see the look on Miguel's face.

"You know what I'm gonna do next, right?" He asked, hands finally coming to a halt. Goosebumps rose across your skin, you lost confidence in your voice, only nodding in response. "Hm? You know what I'm gonna do? And you want it?" He asked again, shifting his hips to where you could feel him even more through your thin spandex shorts.

"Mhm," you hum desperately, not trusting your voice. He only grunted, and the hand on your chin drifted down to your throat, where he gripped firmly enough for you to feel a slight pressure. "Say it."

"Yes," you breathed out, lips trembling as you tucked them into your mouth.

"Good."

His hand left your body for a brief moment, leaving your skin feeling cold in the absence of his touch. After a second and what sounded like a huff from behind you, he was touching you again. All over, his hands trailed from your shoulders to your chest, gripping and massaging in a way that made you mewl. Your waist to your lower back, pushing against it with a large palm. Pushing your stomach further into the counter almost painfully. He rubbed his cock against your ass and you flinched unsuspectingly as you felt his lips on the back of your neck, sucking softly as he massaged your ass with his right hand.

"Mm," he groaned in your ear, a low sound—almost like a growl, from the back of his throat. The heat from your stomach pooled into your panties, and you pushed your ass further against the bulge in his pants. His hand landed down on your ass with a loud clap in response, making you yelp and squirm as pain erupted over the surface of your skin. "Don't move just yet," he growled in your ear.

When his left hand found the waistband of your shorts, you didn't make any attempt to stop him. How long has this been going on? This pent up sexual frustration between the two of you. Countless times has Miguel imagined taking your pants off, slipping your panties down your legs and licking at your cunt until you cried. Bending you over the washing machine and fucking you senseless, every week when you fold clothes past midnight wearing your skimpy fucking 'pyjamas' that hide next to nothing. What he would do to just touch you. Get familiar with the feeling of your skin against his, moulding your figure to his, and learning every surface of your body until he had it all memorized. And now he had all the access he ever wanted, because you gave it to him.

"Can I take these off?" He asked, fingers already dipping past your waistband. You nodded rapidly, barely sighing out a yes. You had barely nodded once before he was yanking the shorts harshly down your legs, jolting you in the process.

Miguel was in a dangerous position. The curve of your ass mesmerized him and he was all so absorbed he almost forgot that he was presently in this moment. He swallowed thickly, bringing his attention away from your backside and to your tank. You had already began to tug the hem upwards before he joined you, pulling the top over your head in one smooth motion.

The removal of your shirt left your hair slightly messy, and Miguel felt his length strain against his slacks as he began to imagine what it'd look like once he was done with you.

You heard the metallic clink of a belt, followed by a zipper and a little bit of shuffling before something heavy was resting against your ass. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you tried to gauge the size of him. Even with his thighs no longer flush to yours, he easily grazed the center of your back. You tried to turn again. Miguel didn't stop you this time, and instead pressed his lips against yours as soon as they were within reach. You sighed into his lips, bringing your arms around his neck.

His shoulders were firm beneath your palms, muscles moving fluidly as he moved to cup your ass. He tugged your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up onto the island counter, making space for himself between your legs. His lips were warm against yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he cupped your throat again. His tongue was warm when it pressed against yours, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth, clenching your fingers against his back. You could compare kissing him to swinging between buildings, jumping from a skyscraper. That adrenaline rush that you loved, you found it all over again in his lips.

"Fuck," he cursed lowly as he pulled away. You tried to chase after him but he was already making his way down your throat with his lips. And he kept moving downwards, until he sunk to his knees and his face was lined up with your navel. Then you finally clued in on what he was about to do.

"Oh, you don't have to..." you trailed off. He was shaking his head, the look on his face indicating no sign of swaying.

"I want to. Of course, you can say no," he uttered, gaze piercing yours. You were basically leaking onto the counter as you stared at the broad man from above. The sight of his hulking figure between your legs, face just inches away from where you ached most, fingers gripping either thigh with enough force to leave bruises. It had your stomach coiling. In fear of what noises you might make should you open your mouth, you placed your hand in his hair instead, just barely nudging him towards you.

The corner of his lip lifted—you think it did, just enough to look like a smirk and not a second later, his face was buried in your pussy.

The long striped he licked from your entrance to your clit had your toes curling, arm going rigid below you. "Oh, fuck," you moaned. His soft brown locs peaked from between your fingers as you gripped at his hair, anchoring yourself while he licked at your cunt like he hadn't eaten in days. When he sucked particularly hard at your clit, you couldn't help but try to clench your thighs closed around his head, but his strong grip kept them where he wanted and he grunted against you in protest. "I'm not done with you," he looked up at you briefly, giving you a glimpse at the mess you'd made of his face. You bit your lip as your clit throbbed, holding in a moan and instead gripped at his hair, looking up at the ceiling through bleary eyes. Miguel let out a delicious moan in response to the tug at his scalp, and the heat in your stomach coiled tighter.

"Ah!" You yelped as you felt him pinch at your inner thigh. "Eyes on me," he murmured against you. The vibration against your clit made you shudder as you snapped your eyes back down to him. He was already looking at you, and for some reason, the intensity in his eyes made your face flush as you struggled to maintain eye contact.

You felt a finger prod at your entrance, Miguel was still looking at you, one brow raised in question. He wanted to know if he could keep going, and you thought of what a stupid idea it would be to say no. You nodded softly at him, urging him on. Slowly, his middle finger presses against you and slips inside with little resistance. Your mouth falls open and you can barely voice a moan when his finger bottoms out inside you. Miguel can feel your cunt flutter and pulse as it stretches around his finger, he can feel every ridge inside your plush walls as you squeeze him tight.

“Mm, oh fuck,” you cried out, fingers gripping at his hair for purchase. This was nothing like it felt to have your own fingers inside you. It was nowhere near close. His fingers were long, thick, and every brush of his knuckles had you jolting around him.

Your stomach felt tighter and hotter as he only fed the fire, curling his finger just barely as he slid it in and out of you. With one quirk of his digit, he was brushing directly against your sweetest spot, and he kept doing so. Over and over again.

“Can you—fuck, can you add another,” you we’re seeing stars. You had never been stimulated like this. Everything felt different with him. Everything felt more. And so you begged him to put another finger in you, knowing that nothing would ever make you feel the way he was. The earlier embarrassment was long gone, you were far too overwhelmed with the sensation he was giving you to care.

When he brings his eyes back to yours, he adds a second finger and glides his tongue over your clit, he feels you clench be wildly around his fingers. He moans along with you, even smiling softly as he watched your face scrunch in pleasure.

Miguel’s fingers begin to move faster, his knuckles slapping against your cunt lewdly as his tongue continues to toy with your clit. It was wet and messy and the sounds you were making only had him moving faster.

“I-I’m-! Miguel!” your jaw was slack as you stammered.

When he brought his thumb up to replace his tongue and rub circles at your clit, you felt the pressure build inside you, the swelling and consuming warmth of your orgasm rock violently against you, your jaw going slack as you fought to keep your eyes from rolling back. Your legs attempted again to close and shut him out, trembling with the shocks of your orgasm. Miguel grunted as he watched you shudder with each pass of his tongue and fingers. If not for your hips canting away from his lips, he might have never stopped, lost in the way you looked as you orgasmed above him.

You were out of breath, but you could've sworn you heard the muttering of what could've been beautiful, fuck or just good girl over your harsh breaths.

Miguel was above you again, swiping a hand over his lips, tongue snaking out to catch what was left of your juices. Your stomach was coiling all over again at the way he was looking at you. Yet, before you could even tell him how good you felt, you were in his arms again.

"Oh!" You barely gasped out before his lips were back on yours. They slid against yours with a renewed fervour, bitting and nibbling at your lips aggressively. His length rested hot against your stomach, and it almost freaked you out how he was so heavy on your navel.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he panted against your lips. "Miguel," you breathed. You felt his length twitch against you. Miguel cursed under his breath, looking down where his dick rubbed against your dripping sex.

No longer feeling patient, you wiggled a hand down between your bodies and wrapped a hand around his length. Miguel sighed above you, tensing as you pumped him once, twice. You shifted your hips closer to his, dragging his tip along your swollen folds.

"Go slow," you advised with a soft whisper, still in the afterglow of your last orgasm.

"Yeah, fuck, I don't wanna rip you in half,"

And then you were easing him into your entrance.

"Cariño," Miguel groaned out as he sunk into you. His eyes were still trained on where you two met, as were yours. You were biting your lip, hard. The stretch wasn't nearly as painful as it could be given your previous orgasm, and the pressure felt good, you felt full. The pressure is delicious, stretching and aching, and exhilarating, intoxicating, and all you can think is how much you've been longing for this. The sharp sensation of something far too big pushing inside you, the way he mutters fuck, your name and a plethora of other curses.

"You're squeezing me tight," he breathes against your temple, sounding like he was under deep strain. "I wish you knew the things I've thought about you at night," he groaned as he canted his hips once softly.

You let out a moan, a mix between a grunt and an embarrassingly loud mewl that you cannot possibly believe came from your mouth. "M-me too," you felt so full you could barely speak. It was a grosse understatement to say you thought about him here and there, but it was all you could muster in the moment that he started to move his hips.

"Yeah?" His teeth are at your neck again, licking in time with his thrusts and leaving marks wherever he could reach. "Good. 'Cause you're all I can think about,"

Your stomach stirs at his words, clenching around him as he moves inside you, once, twice, and a third time, particularly harsh.

Miguel doesn't last long before he's hoisting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and trapping himself within you. Your breath hitches as the movement seats him inexplicably deep inside you, forcing your chest high in the air as if trying to escape the intrusion.

"I wanna take you to bed," He's already walking away as he says so, walking swiftly with you in his arms as if he was holding a sack of feathers. With every step, you jostled against his length, every footfall pushing him in and out of you and up against your womb. Your hands were in his hair and your lips tucked tightly into your mouth, holding back your many sounds of pleasure.

Before you could even reach for the light switch, Miguel was whisking you away, depositing you on the bed like you weighed nothing and holding himself above you, arms pulled taught as he strained to keep himself still. His eyes strayed across every surface of your skin in the dim room, and his hands followed his gaze, trailing up your sides, your arms, your hips. "Fuck, look at you," he mutters, eyes low and dark. You want to cower away from his gaze, use your hands to make a feeble attempt to cover yourself up, but something in his eyes tells you that he wouldn't stand for that.

"C'mere," he's on your lips again, still buried inside you. Just a minute ago, he was pushing deeper inside you than you thought was possible, and now there's this gentle sliding of lips and tongues, Miguel is nibbling at you and his hands hold the sides of your face, the back of your head, and suddenly your neck. His hand covers the blossoming hickeys on your skin and your head begins to empty itself of anything but the thought of him.

"I want to kiss you everywhere," he mutters against your mouth, weakly kissing at the corner of your lips. You couldn't muster a response, instead placing a palm flat against his lower stomach. You needed him to move again. Your core was aching so badly for him, it almost made you want to cry.

"Move," you breathed out, one hand wrapping around his own that was gripping your throat. Miguel's lips formed a weak smirk, peering down at you a lust filled gaze.

"C'mon cariño," he was thrusting again now, softly, in and out of your cunt. The arm he'd been leaning on begins to shake visibly. "You must know by now," Your neck craned in his grip, tipping your head back against the pillow as your core began to heat up all over again. "Know what?"

"How hard it's been to keep my hands off you. Fuck, how much I've wanted this, wanted you, almost since the very beginning," His eyes are glazed, muscles taught as he peers down at you through heavy lids. Your chest begins to rise and fall dramatically, short of breath and short of words. Your knuckles go pale as you fist the sheets, while Miguel moves his supporting hand to grip at your hip, fingers practically piercing your skin. You shudder as he cants his hips with new rhythm, thrusting harder and deeper into you. He tells you how beautiful you are, how he wants to feel all of you, kiss you and fuck you for hours. You cling to his arms as you feel the spasms rise, your body rocking with each of his sharp thrusts.

He slips out, and back in again while his hand explored the small of your back, pulling you into him. Your head fell back against the pillow, a mewl escaping your lips as his thrusts turned fast and consuming, forcing tremors of pleasure up your spine.

"You gonna come sweetheart?" His thumb was tracing your bottom lip, hand still tight around your neck. You nodded wordlessly, eyes focused on the vague image of his face through blurry eyes. You couldn't muster very many words in your fucked out state. "Say it," Miguel said firmly, his hand shifting back to your hip to find more purchase.

You had both of your hands gripping his wrist now. "I’m gonna come," your eyes were watering. "P-please," you gasped out between thrusts.

He was smirking. "Good girl," Then the hand on your throat returned to your hip, gripping tightly as he began to piston his hips into yours at an unforgiving pace. Your chest jolted with every thrust and Miguel couldn't seem to draw his gaze away from your blissed out face. You cried out, back arching away from the bed, legs locking around his waist to bring him impossibly closer to you.

"C'mon cariño," he coaxed you and the spasms started, the heat in your stomach exploding across your body. "Miguel," his name left your lips with a moan as your hips rose from the bed to meet his thrusts, eyes screwing shut as the sensation washed over your body, your legs twitching.

"That's it cariño, good girl," He voice came out strained, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm while chasing after his own. Everything was still blurry when you heard him make a crude noise, shuddering as he pumped hard and muttered nonsense into your neck. You felt his orgasm, his trembling arms as he spilled inside you and his hips came to a halt. A new shiver ripped through your spine as he filled you, and you couldn't stop a smile from growing on your lips. You both panted heavily, the air hot around you as sweat slicked your bodies.

"Fuck," Miguel grunted as he slipped out of you and leaned over your twitching body. His palms ran the length of you thighs, smoothing over the goosebumps erupting on your skin. You took a moment to catch your breath, looking up at his face in the pale light of the moon. He looked handsome even when his face shined with sweat.

"Good?" He whispered, eyes on yours as you gazed at him silently. It took you a moment to nod, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. Whether he was confirming that you were okay, or if the sex was good, you weren't sure, but the answer to both was yes. You leaned into the hands that were caressing your skin gently.

"Yes," you voiced it out loud, pushing yourself up slowly with two weak arms. "That was amazing," you sighed out. You made a move to draw your legs to yourself, meaning to head to the washroom, but a hand on your waist stopped you.

Oh.

When your gaze fell curiously back to Miguel's blank face, you realized, upon looking down, that he was still painfully hard. "I'm not done with you," he said lowly, just like before, pushing you back towards the bed with a hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, I should've known better," you smiled weakly. Miguel chuckled, his figure looming over you becoming all too familiar. "You should've. It's gonna be a long night."