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erwinsvow · 1 day

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we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

#oop #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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randombush3 · 21 hours

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cool about it

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you can't find inspiration for your play

notes: this was rotting in my drafts and then i got drunk and finished it lolz

i refuse to read it back so have fun

The first time Alexia sees you, you are with your friends; sleeves rolled-up, wide smile on your face, a pool cue in your hand as you wield it like a weapon the minute one of the women beside you opens her mouth. She is drawn into observing, craving the knowledge of what you are being told; what is making you blush so furiously. She sees your mouth open, a blackhole that draws her in without mercy, and she barely survives the sound of your loud, raucous laughter

Suddenly, in the universe of football and media events and her little sister’s embarrassingly active love-life, you appear. Like a new star, burning bright, big and hot and… “You’re staring,” says Mapi with a smile. She knows not to tease, and she treads lightly. “You’ve been staring for a while.”

“They’re speaking English.” It’s an incriminating sentence, but it would have been futile to deny Mapi’s accusation anyway.

“I saw her at the bar. She spoke Spanish then.”

“You’ve been stalking her.”

Mapi nods, and holds Alexia’s drink in a silent push to get her over to the pool table. To you. “Because you’ve been staring. I was only making sure she wasn’t a psycho.”

“Thanks,” she scoffs, but, in truth, she is grateful.

As she saunters over (a newly regained skill, months down the line from her traumatic ACL reconstruction surgery), her confidence a believable façade, she decides that she is going to be Alexia Putellas. She is going to be cool about it, and she is going to impress you, and she is going to make you laugh so that she can hear that sound again.

Again, again, again.

“Yeah, sure, you can take over for Soph,” you say, nodding towards the woman who had been on the receiving end of your light prodding with the wooden stick all of friends regret allowing three-drink you to be in charge of. “So you’re spots, I’m stripes. I’ve got two left until I can pot the black, and you, er, you might be at a disadvantage here.” You rub the back of your neck as you peer at the balls on the table, almost all of them left behind by Soph’s inability to play pool. “How about we just, um–”

“Está bien.” Alexia pretends to understand a lot more of what you said than she really does, regretting her choice to approach you in English, but she gets the jist. And, although you make her feel as though life has only just begun, she remembers her competitiveness very, very clearly. “Voy a ganar,” she scoffs.

She holds in her celebration as you break out into a grin, immediately rising to the challenge, glad your friends have tired of the pool table so that no one can interrupt the battle you are about to commence. A battle with a very pretty woman, you must admit.

You lose.

You blame it on Alexia – she tells you her name as she pots three balls in a row – and try not to acknowledge the taunts from your friends at the bar, most of them having watched the entire game from afar to have something to talk about tomorrow. “You win,” comes your pitiful concession after a brutal defeat. “So, what will your prize be?”

It’s an easy answer.

That morning, throat hoarse from the cries that left it the night before, eyes red and tired and way too sensitive to light for you to consider drinking a drop of alcohol ever again, you wrap your arms around the warm body in the unfamiliar bed, finding the intimacy to have lived on longer than it should for a one-night-stand. Barcelona is warm and sunny, the day one to be enjoyed, and the company the best you have had in a while.

It isn’t just that Alexia is a goddess. It isn’t the Amazonian ridges of her stomach and the firmness of her thighs, nor the softness of her hair or the deft movements of her fingers against your scarred skin. No, that is not what has, in just one evening, made you fall in love with her. (You bite your lip as you are overcome with emotion, chest filling up – with which feeling, you do not know –, heart pounding into your bones as the rhythm of your desire to be in Alexia’s life sets into the very framework of your being.) No! How could it be that? How could it be that when there is more?

The coarseness of her determination; the slippery confidence, delicate and sharp, as though it is both the petal of a rose and the thorn that will prick you. Her humour, mistranslated at times, but always ready to make fun of idiots (most often, a specific idiot with a neck tattoo, as you come to realise).

Personally, you believe it to be unfair that Alexia, Alexia Putellas, is simply ‘all that’.

Getting to know each other fails to feel awkward, though you spend a lot of time waiting for the tension to appear.

She discovers who you are, how you have moved to Barcelona for inspiration, finding that very thing lacking in dreary Leeds (the most depressing place on Earth, you could argue). She learns of your dream, although you label it as your ‘plan’: to write a play and to see it on the stage, preferably a grand theatre in the West End. Or in Stratford, where upon lies the greatest soil from which a playwright can grow.

You show her your empty pages, devoid of black print marks. White and white, that goes on until it is clear that you have tired of pressing the ‘enter’ button as though it will ignite a story within. A story that hasn’t yet come, mind.

“Do you think it will work?” she asks you, her accusation carrying nothing but curiosity once you see past the abrupt manner in which she interrupts your lengthy monologue about your severe case of writer’s block.

Maybe you intend to be a little vague, for the sake of your racing heart and your delicate emotions, because you only shrug. You have already found your inspiration, not that you are going to tell her.

Alexia is forward in the sense that she checks how temporary your presence is in her city before asking you out on a date. Your answer of ‘however long this shit takes’ is enough for her to be sure that she wants a second. A third, too.

Then, before you know it, it has been a year.

A year of Barcelona, a year of Spanish sun, and, excitingly, a year in which you have been cured; fingers blessed with movement and ideas and words on the tip of your tongue that run free in Alexia’s ear as you talk and talk and talk. She listens and listens and listens, and switches into the focus of your pairing when you go with her to watch her team play and play and play (why the fuck does football have so many matches?!). The final stage direction, all curling italics and sentimentality, sits at the bottom of the page.

The end of your play.

It is finished, it is done, and, soon after you have revised it one last time, it is sent to your producer friend with a nervous click of the ‘new email’ button and the hope that he is thankful for the times at university when you cared for him when he drank himself so silly that he barely made it to his lectures two days after the night-out.

“It feels good,” you tell Ingrid, the girlfriend of the idiot with the neck tattoo, beaming as she inquires about your work. “I feel like I lived through it to get to this moment, you know? All that’s left to do is for him to read it and decide whether he’ll pick it up. Then, table reads and funding, of course. I’d want to direct, but, also, I’m not going to sell this one. Leasing it and taking a percentage of the royalties will make me loads more, because, Ingrid, this one is the best thing I’ve ever written.”

There is a moment, usually, that comes after you have finished writing. A brief, sharp sort of panic, where you question your worth and your talent; you wonder if you have been lied to your whole life, and that your version of the same twenty-six letters of the alphabet, jumbled up on a white canvas as though you are (after a sleepless, usually) Picasso, is terrible. Or, worse, bad.

Bad. Bad is so… plain. If it is just ‘bad’, you have failed as a writer. If it is not outrageous or unbelievably horrible, or, as one obviously hopes, incredible and amazing… if it is just ‘bad’, well: “Alexia, I’m terrified.”

Alexia kisses your neck (you do not feel the finality of it, or maybe it is that you do not want to) because she knows it isn’t bad; she is more than aware that your play, your new creation, is really rather good. Brilliant, even. “Tranquila, mi amor,” she murmurs in your ear, bringing her arms to rest on your tense shoulders, a hand closing your laptop on its journey. “Le va a flipar.”

“You think so?”

“Sí.”

“Are you saying that because we’re together and you love me?” Your voice is small and unsure, and its teasing lilt is thrown off-kilter by the croak of your anxiety. “Or do you mean it? Please, I hope you mean it.”

“I mean it.” She hates that she does. “Yes, of course I mean it. I love you and I am proud of you.” She hates it, she hates this, and she hates the talent your mind wields; something that is going to rip you from her grasp. It was bound to happen.

Your phone rings; soft, electronic trills dancing in the space between you and the coffee table it has been placed on. “I think that’s him,” you whisper, the volume you had intended to speak at smited by the nervous lump in your throat. Alexia nods mournfully, but you are too busy accepting the call to see.

“Let’s do this,” he says.

…

The first frost of London comes that January. It’s unusual, the locals claim, because the city exists in its own polluted microclimate, but their statistics do not stop the layer of ice from freezing onto the windshield of your car. You are glad London feels just as cold as you do.

Your play is beloved by the actors who speak your words, and the critics amongst your friend group, who for once, have no criticism to give. There is promise here. It is going very well.

You drive to the theatre, ready to sit in on another rehearsal. Though your original intention had been to direct, you pawed off the role to an old school friend upon her return from Broadway. Your decision, you tell her, comes from a lack of experience in direction. You pretend to have had an epiphany: you only want to write the plays.

In truth, this is a lie.

Of course it is a lie.

But how can you direct such happiness, such love and romance, if you know that the very thing that inspired each line has ceased to exist?

Alexia feels like she has ceased to exist.

On the outside, she seems relatively fine. She trains well, plays well, makes appearances where she should, says what you’d expect of her, hopes to make the world a better place. She walks Nala as though the Pomeranian does not whine for you to hold her leash, and she visits her mother and sister even though they continue to ask her why she did what she did.

At night, she scrolls through social media, fingers always leading her back to you; your life; your work; your experiences that you no longer share with her. She cries, then, usually: a common occurrence nowadays.

There is a gaping hole in her chest that has been made by her sticking her fucking foot in it.

She has questions, naturally; each directed hatefully at herself. Why? Why, why why? Why on Earth did she tell you never to come back? Why did she blame you for leaving?

You were always going to leave! Alexia knows that, hates that she knows that.

You came to Barcelona because you couldn’t write, and you wrote. You wrote, you made her fall in love with you, and, when you had finished, you discarded the life you had unexpectedly built all because of some stupid, stupid play.

A play titled–

A play.

A… Alexia can’t even bring herself to think about it.

No, all Alexia can think about is how insignificant she feels when you are no longer in love with her. You: sophisticated, intelligent, brilliant, adoring. Her?

“Lex, you can’t mope if you’re the one who broke it off.” The words leave Alba’s mouth in jest but Alexia recoils as though she has been whipped by her sister’s tongue.

“I’m trying to be cool about it,” she replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It seems as though the globe has spun a full circle on its axis by the time Alba formulates her response, dumb-struck by such fucking idiocy.

Alba hopes her sister feels like a fool – she hopes Alexia looks at herself in the mirror and… laughs, at this point. The whole thing has been ridiculous, in her opinion.

First, her sister claims she is in love with a playwright with no plays to her name (Alba is examining the facts objectively, here, because she did quite like you); then, poof! Like a rabbit in a magician’s hat played in twisted reverse, away you go, and it somehow isn’t even your fault.

She’d like to hate you, for her sister’s sake, but she finds herself loathing her own blood as it thins and thins until it trickles just like water.

Okay, maybe she is being a little dramatic there, but she is still annoyed with Alexia.

Alexia – whose existence as more-than-a-footballer is fading as she loses herself to waves of futile guilt – hates that she cannot hate you. She is plagued by emotional constipation, and though she tries to squeeze the situation for a drop of cruelty from you, she fails to discover a gram of relief.

It would have been kinder for you to have been cruel. Mercy is getting Alexia nowhere, and she would run to you if it were fast enough. Mercy is what renders her in a perpetual state of regret. Mercy is what keeps her up at night, but maybe mercy is what she likes having because it is yours and, in that way, she carries a piece of you with her.

To confuse herself even more, to skew her mind further onto a path of unconventional self-destruction, she silently begs the mercy you have left behind to disappear so that she can learn to do without it. It’ll become a crutch and she wants it ripped from her grasp so that she can learn to walk on her own. She’s capable of that, she tells herself.

(It probably isn’t true.)

…

Opening night.

You’re wearing something far too nice to be comfortable, and there has been a champagne flute in your hand since the lunch held by the investors of the production company. The bubbles have served their purpose, clouding your mind with thoughts that weren’t to do with Alexia and her Alexia life and her Alexia smile and her Alexia way of making an Alexia-shaped cavity in your heart.

It gushes quite a bit, because Alexia is strong and big and capable of damaging you to this extent. You reckon your surprise is foolish but fuck off, you’re trying your best.

Comfortingly, not one scrap of red velvet is visible once the audience is ushered inside the theatre.

It’s beautiful here; small, old. The perfect place to fall in love, just as you did. Or at least, experience the good part through deliciously talented actors and a stellar script (your horn has been tooted enough times for you to give it a go).

Fear creeps up your legs as you take your seat in the front row, guarded by friends and family and proud English teachers who’d believe in you, but you take another sip and it simmers down.

“Careful,” whispers your mum, shoulder nudging yours as you place your plastic cup (no glass in the auditorium) on the patterned carpet just as the show is about to begin. “You’ll not remember this if you don’t take a break.”

And you’re halfway to announcing you don’t want to remember anything at all when the curtain goes up and a woman walks onto stage.

It’s sobering.

The audience is restlessly quiet, anticipating the brilliance they’ve been promised with an impatience that demands to be sated, but the actress takes her sweet time.

She walks from stage left to stage right, then up and down. She’s passively searching for something.

Someone.

(It’s the fucking point, and you knew this would happen because you typed out these exact stage directions once upon a time. Alexia had misplaced a sock – a lucky sock, she claimed – and her passion, her desire to discover it, had weirdly morphed into a scene you could see being played out on a stage.)

“Figure this out later,” speaks the actress with a satisfied smile, folding her arms over her chest. Finally, the audience’s breaths catch, enraptured by the vaguest cop-out of opening lines you could’ve chosen.

They love it, though; they lean forwards in their seats as they are plucked from London and dropped into the middle of Barcelona. It’s mildly unnerving that you can’t escape the journey, clearly a member of the audience even if you don’t need to be told the story, but you land without the masses in the rows behind you.

You land right into Alexia’s arms.

There she is before you, in all her glory, proudly displaying the blue and red that she is so admirably dedicated to. Muscular and tanned, beautiful in the way that she always is, but shining brighter than just that.

And you fucking hate it.

When you imagine Alexia, you imagine her crippled and bed-ridden. Cracked knuckles come to mind, too, and she can barely speak without descending into rattling sobs that hack on and on until she somehow falls into fitful rest.

You come prepared for absolution, expecting to see her dying just as you are, so it’s no wonder that your fists clench at her blasé declaration of “no regrets”.

(By the way, Alexia’s not really there. You’d been stalking her Instagram and so that’s why she’s wearing her training kit, and… and you’re drunk!)

There are many things you’d like to say to her.

Alexia had always been apprehensive of your relationship. She was closed-off to new people, and though she was certain of your importance to her, she was untrusting of much else. It happens when you’re famous; there are many wrong turns to take. And she needed to stay on the right path.

It was impossible to pass Alexia’s test.

For you, that is clear. Broken up with, told to leave and never come back, and begged to find someone else are not descriptors of the winner, nor she who achieved full marks. You’re a bit of a stranger to failing, but you’re trying to forget about it so that it never happens again.

You’re breaking a sweat trying to banish her from your brain, barely registering the applause rippling through the theatre as you reach the interval. Trying to get her out of your head is like tugging at your intestines – a hand down your throat renders you dumb, and pains sears through your stomach as you are emptied and left to be a carcass.

“Is it good?” you ask your mum as you head to the bar in the foyer.

“I wish you had let me meet her.”

…

Alexia has never been to London outside of football before. She’s played in the north and in the south – she’s won every time – and it’s summery enough right now, but she is still a foreigner in the city.

It’s fitting, this feeling of being lost, and it’s acceptable to feel it here because she has an excuse. Lost in Barcelona would be ridiculous.

(But she is.)

Why is Alexia in London when she could be in Spain?

Well the only answer is that she has a ticket to a play in a theatre just off the West End that reminds her of someone she once loved.

She thought it might help, seeing as she hasn’t scored a goal in four weeks with no assists to excuse the drought. Her manager gladly gave her the weekend to recharge, and she escapes matchday seven of Liga F under the guise of illness.

While sleeping with your pillow, your t-shirt, she must have absorbed whatever the fuck you were on. By osmosis.

That block.

And now she has to act like she can’t read your mind.

Her ticket, acquired last minute by a friend in high places as a massive favour, means that she has a front row seat to a damned play. She is well-prepared for the dread that wrenches her gut.

The silence settling over her is uncomfortable and impatient, and the lights go down with a sense of impending doom. It’s a bit like being on death row, Alexia thinks. Here she gets to see the good things – a last meal of whatever she would like (you, of course that’s you) – but it is only because of her inevitable execution that this happens.

The necklace hanging from her collarbones is a noose, the seat is a wooden box about to be kicked out from underneath her, and she needs to make her decision now: does she scream? Should she–

She’s pulled out of her insanely dramatic spiral by a woman walking onto the stage.

Her shoulders are hunched slightly and she has that look in her eye; that pang of hunger.

The actress is recognisable, sure, but that is not the familiarity that strikes Alexia.

It’s the character.

It’s you.

Walking from right to left, towards the back, down to the front, the actress is desperately searching for something.

Inspiration, Alexia assumes, a smug smile briefly brushing her lips as the opening line breaks the tense silence.

“Figure this out later,” you say.

The actress is experienced but she has never read a script like yours before. It moved her to tears, though you claimed it was very happy.

She lies awake at night, furiously envying those who could love like you do.

She pities you, partly, because it’s no secret that the story of this love ended when you came here to put the show on.

She has had to fall in love with someone – method acting, according to the director.

It’s not quite the universe exploding and stars being born that your relationship must have been, but it’s alright and she is glad to see him in the audience.

He’s next to a woman who does not seem to be enamoured by the beauty of the plot.

A woman who seems absolutely fucking horrified.

Her eyes are wide, fists clenched.

You – the real you – are watching Alexia with curiosity, more interested in her reaction to the play than the play itself. You wonder if she knows the significance of tonight; the reason you are here once more.

In one month, the set and costumes will be packed up in boxes and taken onto the main street.

It’s a dream come true.

You’re here to announce the good news at the end of the show.

…

“Alexia.”

She tries not to turn around but she does.

The night is cool and fresher than she’d expected the London pollution to allow, and the lamp posts are scarily looming over her as she forces herself to not run into your arms. You don’t wear a coat, although your year in Barcelona has borne a certain nostalgia for a warmer climate, but Alexia is wrapped up warm.

“How… how are you doing?”

You cringe at how apologetic it sounds. She broke up with you.

There is a year that will be forever lost to love and happiness, bliss in Barcelona that was always going to be too good to be true.

There is a year that you will never get back, but there is a breakup you must deal with.

It’s not a brick wall, it’s a hurdle to jump over.

Breaking up won’t be the end of your worlds.

Knowing this, despite the weakness in her knees and the aching of her heart, Alexia lies. For your sake, she lies.

“I’m good. It’s nice to see you.”

You’re drowning but you’ll eventually remember how to swim.

“You too,” you say with formulated sincerity that one day will grow naturally. “Score a goal next time you play, though.”

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #randombush3

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logansargeantsbabymom · 2 days

Text

Wide Awake

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Wolff!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Self-Doubt, age-gap (reader is 22), slight smut (just fingering) , oh and slight orgasm denial.

(SOFIA IS A RANDOM GIRL I MADE UP!)

A/N: This was supposed to just be a one off thing but I kept writing and writing and I'm 99% sure that no one wants to read a 25k worded chapter only for it to BARELY get to the whole point/plot of the fic. so there's going to be another chapter (3 at max)

(Also I promise Too Good To Say Goodbye 7 is coming but I was hyper fixated on trying to finish this which isn't happening ) 🫶🏽😊

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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My dad’s always warned me about getting involved with the drivers. He told me that they’re all too young, naive and that all they’ll be good for is breaking my heart. For the longest time, I believed him. I’ve seen the way some of these young drivers were with girls.

Max cheating on Sofia with Kelly, Lando talking to 3 girls at once and George, well George hasn’t done anything. Point is, I’ve seen how they are and I don’t want to get with one of the young drivers only to have my heart ripped out. AGAIN.

I secretly dated one of the hottest drivers, Charles Leclerc for about 2 months. All was going well we were happy, we had secret dates and maybe I thought he was the one.

That was until one day In Monaco when I showed up to the paddock for Free Practice 1 & 2 I saw him hand-in-hand with Alexandra Saint Mleux. When I saw them together and I realized everything she had that I didn’t. She was at taller than me, skinnier, gorgeous, had flawless skin and had a modeling career. In other words, she was a goddess.

Seeing them together broke my heart and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob, but I couldn’t. My dad warned me about the young drivers but I still went behind his back and did the exact opposite of what he told me not to do. I deserved this.

I had made a beeline for the Mercedes garage just to get out of the public eye but I was so focused on getting as far away from Charles and Alexandra as possible that I hadn’t noticed I was running straight into someone.

I hit this person's body with such force I almost went flying back and I reached my hands out in front of me to try and grab anything for stability and at the same time I felt two hands on either sides of my waist trying to balance me.

I was feeling so many different emotions right now I couldn't even think straight, clearly. I was so angry at Charles for cheating on me even if weren’t technically even dating, sadness because I actually thought Charles was actually capable of loving me, and full fledged embarrassment because I just ran full on into someone thinking about how Charles just ruined my life. And my makeup.

I looked up to face the person I just ran into and tried to profusely apologize for my actions, but when I looked up tho I was met with the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I wanted to stare into his eyes forever but in the half a second it took me to look up I also realized who it was that I ran into.

The 7x WDC Lewis Hamilton.

Even more embarrassment coated my face as I realized that not only did I just bump into someone while trying so hard not to have a mental breakdown but I ran into the Lewis Hamilton, my dad's best and most loved driver. “Oh my gosh Lewis, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I really didn’t mean to run into you. Please don’t tell my dad” Honestly, it sounded pathetic. ‘Don’t tell my dad’? what are you, 12?

I stared at him in silence for about all of 2 seconds which felt like an eternity until I saw his lips curled up into a smile and heard a small chuckle come from him. “I won’t tell your dad, cross my heart” Lewis said while making an ‘X’ motion over his chest “Who are you running from? I feel like maybe I'm obligated to know since you ran right into me trying to avoid them?”

My face fell in shock. How did he know I was trying to avoid someone? I mean it wasn't rocket science, if I saw a random girl running to an isolated area with tears streaming down her face, I too am going to assume she's avoiding someone. “I- Uh, Well. See”

“It’s okay, Y/N/N, I’m not going to tell anyone. You also don’t have to tell me if you don't want to but I’m willing to help you avoid them if you do.” Lewis said as he placed a hand on my cheek.

I’ve always found comfort in Lewis’ touch. Actually, I’ve always felt comfort whenever I was in the same room as Lewis. Something about his Aura screamed ‘You’re safe with me’

As much as I wanted to, I knew there was no point in lying because one thing about Lewis is that could read people like a book. Including me. With a long, loud and dramatic dragged out sigh I reluctantly told him the truth.

“I was seeing Charles behind my father’s back for about 2 months, everything was going well and I actually kinda thought he was my person but I just now saw him hand-in-hand and all cuddly with Alexandra.” Tears sprung in my eyes and threatened to fall as I recounted what I saw a few minutes prior to Lewis.

He had a sympathetic look in his face and I could tell he genuinely felt bad for me. The hand Lewis once briefly had on my face had moved down to grab my hand before he whispered, "How about this: Tomorrow we wear almost matching outfits and we come back here also hand-in-hand. We'd be together all day and we'll be cuddly too. You know, just to make Charles jealous and regret cheating on you."

Lewis was always putting people's well-being ahead of his and it made a shy smile creep onto my face. As much as I want to, maybe I shouldn't read too much into this though, he's probably just being nice to me to stay in my father's good graces.

"Lewis," I whispered as I placed my hand on his cheek "You don't have to be nice to me because I'm your boss's daughter"

he looked a bit hurt by my accusations. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?" his hand squeezed mine a little tighter.

"Why else would you, Lewis?" his hands came up to cup my face forcing me to look at him.

"Because Y/N/N, I-" he paused, almost like he was trying to find the right words to use. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I've seen you sneaking around with Charles and it took so much in me not to go over there and tear you away from him, to show him that you're mine. I know I'm older than you but I'm wiser and I'll treat you better than he can." My jaw dropped, there's no way that Lewis Hamilton, a 7x WDC is head over heels in love with me, right?

"Lew, I-" a voice interrupted me, turning my body into stone and my blood into ice.

"Y/N!" I knew that voice anywhere and if he saw the moment that me and Lewis just shared, we were both dead.

"Dad! Hi!" I tried to sound enthusiastic but I was so flushed from Lewis' confession.

"My baby," His hands cupped my face inspecting the red all over "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I'm just hot. You know how the sun is in Monaco." I said with a shrug, trying to change the subject

"Oh you have to go in the AC! Lewis," my dad turned to face Lewis who was already facing in our direction

"Yes, Toto?" he said as he cocked his brow.

"I need you to take my darling girl inside. She has a condition where she can't sweat which causes her to overheat and pass out. I am too busy with this race and getting everything perfect to be worrying about my daughter having a heat stroke."

"Oh, jeez, thanks dad. Just send Lewis to do everything for you" I said in a playful tone

"Of course Toto, I'll take her in right now." Lewis said as he walked over to me and linked his arms with mine.

Lewis started guiding me through the garage and to his driver's room where he opened the door and gestured me in. Once inside he closed the door before facing me with unsure eyes.

"What's wrong Lew?" I said as I cautiously walked over to him.

"What were you going to say before Toto cut you off?" his voice so low, I almost didn't hear what he said.

"I was going to say," I stopped right in front of him, our chests were touching. We were so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "I think that you have to prove what you said about treating me better than how Charles did."

Lewis grabbed my face and pulled me into a searing kiss, our tongues fought for dominance but his won. Lewis picked me up and sat on his couch with me on his lap so I was straddling him all without breaking the kiss.

His hands found their rightful place on my hips and applied pressure forcing my hips down as I rocked my hips to apply more force against his hardening cock.

"Mmm, you taste so good. I can only imagine how much better you taste when I'm eating your pussy." Lewis mumbled against my lips as his hands went just a little bit lower to stop at the elastic of my leggings. I guided Lewis' hands under the fabric to release some of the tension building in my core.

He understood what I needed and quickly started to run his middle finger up and down my fold, collecting all my juices before inserting it in my pussy. Lewis slowly moved his finger in and out of my hole while using his thumb to rub circles on my clit. His movements were slow and sensual bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I started rocking my hips into his palm to add more friction to my core and to chase my orgasm which I really needed right now. I was just about to go over the edge until a knock at the door quickly halted both of our movements and caused Lewis to yank his hand out of me leaving me without finishing.

"Mate, FP2 starts in 15. They need us by our cars now" The voice of George could be heard from he other side of the door.

“Oh fuck me” I grunted as I pulled myself off of Lewis’ lap

“Trust me, I was planning on it” He said with a smirk on his face as his hand came to rest on my ass before giving it a smack.

Lewis poked his head out of the door to make sure no one would see us leave, after the all clear we quickly rushed out of his room, both of us going in opposite directions as to not get caught.

————

The next day I heard a knock at my hotel door at the early hours of 6:00am. With a grunt I pulled myself out of the comfort of my warm and cozy bed and made my way to the door. Whoever was interrupting my beauty sleep was going to get a mouthful, I’ll tell you that.

“Do you know what time it is?!” I whisper yelled as I opened the door, not even bothering to look through the peephole to see who I would be yelling at. And boy do I really wish I did look because I was met with the tall, beautiful, muscular frame of Lewis Hamilton.

“Woah honey, I told you we were going to the paddock together. We need matching outfits” Lewis said while looking at me up and down "Do you by any chance have a matching Tommy Hilfiger set?"

"No?" I said, a little nervous

"Perfect, I bought you one that matches mine so put this on" Lewis said as he handed me a bag of 4 different sets.

"Lewis, there's four sets in here. Which am I wearing?" I said I let him in my room and watched as he took a seat on my bed right were I was once peacefully sleeping.

"Wear whichever one you want and I'll match it. I didn't know which of those four you'd like so I bought them all." My heart fluttered a bit at his confession.

--------

When Lewis and I pulled up to the race and got out of the car, we walked to the entrance hand-in-hand.

Charles and Alexandra were the first people to spot us and I took notice on how Charles dropped Alexandra's hand. When I saw that I squeezed Lewis' hand and leaned into him to tell him

"Lew, it's working. He dropped Alexandra's hand" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Wanna give them a show?" I cocked my brow at what he was suggesting but reluctantly nodded my head.

Without thinking twice, Lewis pulled me into a kiss, his hand finding their place to rest on my ass while mine traveled to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

I heard a strings of words which I'm assuming were curse words before I heard faint shuffles of feet echoing away from where me and Lewis were stood. Faint footsteps weren't the only thing we heard because next thing you know we heard clicks of camera shutters.

I pulled away from him with a horrified look on my face.

"Lewis! My dad might see those!" I don't think I was ever more scared in my life than I was in that moment. My dad can't know that I'm sneaking behind his back with Lewis. Well technically this is the second day of this 'sneaking around' but still, he doesn't know."

"Do you want to be with me Y/N/N?" He said dead serious while interlocking our hands

"Yes"

"So you shouldn't care about the pictures and your dad's opinion. Not everyone is going to accept our relationship but that doesn't matter because this relationship is between us. Not them"

"I need FP3 and Qualifying to end ASAP because I so badly want to suck your cock."

“I’m holding you to that” Lewis said as he swatted my ass. Surely the press people got photos of that and when those get out. I’m gonna have a fun conversation with my dad

It took us about 15 minutes to get the Mercedes Hospitality area because of all the fans asking for pictures, Press asking questions and other drivers asking what Lewis thinks he’s doing going out with me.

I almost took offense to that but quickly realized that they didn’t mean it in a rude way but more as a ‘you better be careful because if you break her heart, Toto will never resign you to Mercedes’ type of way.

When we entered, we were met with the angry eyes of my father.

“Lewis.” He said stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose “what are you doing with my daughter?!”

“Sir,” Lewis started but my dad cut him off

“Y/N/N, I told you not to go off with the drivers!” His voice raised, not too loud to be classified as yelling but a couple octaves louder than how it was before

“Actually, you said no messing around with the younger drivers. Lewis is older and more wise” I said as I grasped Lewis’ hand tighter.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Well sir, I intend to give your daughter the best life I can give her, I want to take her everywhere with me, I want to spoil her, I want to have her move in with me, I want to be her husband and I want her to be the mother of my kids.” Lewis squeezed my hand as he said that last sentence.

I never thought about being a mother, I never felt like it was an obligation of mine. I never thought that I wanted kids but hearing Lewis admit to my dad that he wanted me to be the mother of his kids sparked something in me. Lewis made me realize that deep down, I longed to be a mom and now I wasn’t going to be happy if I wasn’t.

“I will kill you if you break her heart.” My dad stated as he stared in Lewis’ eyes as if to try and intimidate him.

—————

It's not the best but I promise the plot is to die for!

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lady-buggerinton · 2 days

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My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)

My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?

5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal

Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.

This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)

He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!

I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)

Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.

And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.

I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.

Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.

Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.

Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.

Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.

I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.

It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.

We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)

4. Market Scene

ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.

SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.

If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!

There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.

I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.

"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.

Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.

She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.

Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.

When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!

3. Candy Tent

Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!

Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.

Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"

The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!

I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.

Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.

He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.

Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.

His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.

I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.

Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.

Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!

2. First kiss/Dream Sequence

Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.

This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?

The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.

This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!

then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!

What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.

Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.

THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.

This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!

Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.

1. Carriage Scene

Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.

And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.

How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.

Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)

He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.

The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.

on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.

Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....

Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.

Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3

#polin #analysis #bridgerton #long post #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #season 3 #spoilers #carriage scene #first kiss #romance

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jobean12-blog · 17 hours

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Twisted Games

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 2.816

Summary: You never win when you play games with Joel but while losing in a game of Twister you get an idea that might just make you a winner...or not.

Author's Note: I just love the idea of all the tension and teasing but honestly...I'd never last haha. Thank you all so much for reading! Muhch love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, teasing, fun, tension, fluff, spiciness, established relationship.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

You’re practically in a bow pose with two feet spread out on different colors and one hand behind you on another. Your back is arched and your chest is right in Joel’s face. He’s smiling over you and licking his lips.

“I love this game,” he chuckles deviously. “Next time we play naked.”

You roll your eyes and spin the Twister wheel with your one free hand.

“Shit,” you mutter when you see what it lands on. “Ok! I can do this!”

When you start to move your body your position becomes even more precarious and now you’re pressed closer to him. His lips touch your collarbone in a soft kiss.

“Don’t! That’s so unfair!” you whine.

“Aw come on darlin.’ I can’t resist!”

You sigh and refocus but to no avail. The moment you reach your hand to the next colored circle your body collapses to the mat. He’s instantly on you, pinning you to the Twister mat and grinning down at you.

“UGH! I’m never playing anything with you again!”

“Aw come on darlin.’ Don’t be a sore loser now.”

You try to get your arms under his chest so you can push him off you but it’s hard to move.

“Get off me!”

He kisses you instead.

“Don’t be mad,” he coos against your lips. “It’s just a game.”

You manage to wiggle your arms free in his distracted state and comb your fingers through his hair.

“Joel…”

“Hmm?” he hums while trailing his lips along your jaw.

He stops just below your ear and kisses your skin softly before nipping your earlobe.

“You want me to start letting you win?” he whispers.

“No!” you huff and it quickly dissolves into sigh as he continues to place kisses down your neck.

His free hand pushes at your knee and he spreads your legs wide, settling between them and rocking his hips.

“See, this is why Twister is my favorite game…” he murmurs as the same hand sneaks down your stomach.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, letting your legs fall open even wider. “It’s all a win for you!”

“Damn right it is,” he says, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings.

You drag your hands down his back and crane your neck to give his lips better access.

Suddenly you go still and your lips spread into a mischievous grin.

“What?” he grumbles, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I know a game I can win at….”

He raises a challenging brow.

You narrow your eyes and try to bump him off you.

“Nuh uh darlin.’ Start talkin’.”

“Fine, but don’t you start distracting me,” you warn.

His fingertips trace the outline of your panties but nothing more as he looks at you expectantly.

“Ok. So. I bet I can hold out longer for sex.”

“What?” he asks again, stopping his movement. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t but...I know I can beat you at least.”

He’s silent for a few seconds and your eyes wander over his face, your fingers absentmindedly grazing the outline of his beard and the gray patches throughout. You can still feel the warmth of his hand between your legs and the hardness between his and you start to second guess your idea.

“Fine,” he says. “But how long are we doing this for?”

You open your mouth but he quickly cuts you off.

“Any more than three days is a hard NO.”

Your lips lift into a sideways smirk. “This is going to be easier than I thought.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” you say and pop the p. “Three days it is! Since that seems to be your limit,” you snicker.

His fingers begin to move again, teasingly inching downward.

“Are we starting today?” he asks.

He brushes a finger along the damp fabric and gives you a wink.

“No,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

“That’s good,” he croons as he pushes the fabric to the side.

The morning sun rises and warms the bedroom, bathing it in a soft golden light as you begin to awaken.

Joel’s strong arm is draped over your waist and his bare chest is pressed to your back.

“Mornin’ darlin’ he mumbles, tugging you closer.

“Hi,” you whisper and snuggle into him.

He hitches a leg over your thigh and you feel him pulse against you. He starts to kiss your neck as his hand splays at your stomach and pushes your shirt up.

You drag your teeth over your bottom lip, both to stifle your low moan of pleasure and your near victory cheer.

With a wiggle you silently ask for more but suddenly he tenses behind you.

“FUCK,” he groans and rolls away from you.

“HEY!” you pout, sitting up and staring at him.

“Don’t hey me!” he says, running a hand through his already mussed mess of dark curls. “I’m going to take a cold shower.”

You watch him walk off to the bathroom and fall back with a thump onto your pillow.

“SO CLOSE!” you whisper shout to yourself.

When he’s ready to leave for work, he sets his coffee in the sink and wraps you in his arms, drawing out a sweet kiss that turns much more heated once he cages you against the counter and his hands start to wander.

“Joel,” you whine, chasing his lips when he pulls away.

“See you later darlin’,” he purrs with a wink.

You leave for work shortly after, clearly distracted and frustrated.

“What’s up your ass today?” Tommy asks Joel as they load materials into the back of the pick-up truck.

Joel just glares in his brother’s direction.

“Fine,” Tommy says with a lopsided smile. “Don’t share.”

By the time you get home from work your mood has soured and you’re not even sure why you proposed the idea. You’re horny and frustrated and you want to blame Joel.

“Hi darlin’,” he says when he walks in an hour later. “How was your day?”

You shrug and mumble, “uneventful. You?”

“Other than Tommy being a usual pain in my ass, the same,” he answers and sits down next to you.

He rests his hand on your knee and starts to rub small circles with his thumb, his other hand snaking around your neck to pull you closer for a kiss.

You crawl into his lap and straddle his waist, melting into the kiss and dragging your hands down his chest.

His fingers dance along your thighs and he sighs out your name when you start to press your lips to his neck.

“I hate this game,” he whispers.

You want to agree but your competitive side wins out in the moment and you lean back and give him a smug smile.

“We’re almost through day one!” you sing.

“And I haven’t lost yet!” he shoots back.

“Forty-eight more hours to go…” you taunt.

He stops your wiggling, keeping you still on his lap.

“I’m starving,” he grumbles and gently lifts you off him. “Let’s have dinner.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and huff.

“This is your fault,” he says as he opens the fridge. “You can just give up now and I’ll have you screamin’ my name in no time.”

He looks over at you with dark eyes filled with promise.

“Let just make dinner,” you mutter and peel yourself off the couch.

The next morning starts in much the same way except this time it’s you that tears yourself away first and stomps to the bathroom.

Joel follows right behind and opens the shower curtain, stepping under the hot water with you.

“What are you doing?” you squeak.

“Taking a shower. I usually get in first…”

He smiles as the water runs down his skin. Your eyes follow the rivulets, watching them closely as they meander over the dips and curves of his muscles.

“You don’t play fair,” you hiss.

“I’m gonna be late,” he counters.

He reaches over you to grab his shampoo.

“Joel…keep that thing away from me.”

He stays close, deliberately bumping into you as much as possible.

“What? The shower isn’t that big. You’re naked. What do you expect?” he says with a nonchalant shrug.

You turn to face him and hold out your body wash. “Do my back?” you ask sweetly.

He purses his lips and glares.

“Sure darlin’” he answers through gritted teeth.

He lathers the wash in his hands and starts to smooth them along your shoulders and back. He traces the curve of your spine and your ass, squeezing and massages as he goes. You lean into him, feeling him hard against your back.

His hands slide around your waist to your stomach and he reaches up to your breasts, kneading them softly as he washes. Then he moves lower and you instinctively arch into his touch and spread your legs.

“Fucking hell,” he growls. “You’re clean enough!”

With that he quickly rinses his hair and rips the shower curtain open, grabbing a towel and grumbling all the way back to the bedroom.

You turn the water cold and let it run over your heated skin, resting your head to the tiles and silently cursing yourself.

“Think Tommy and I are gonna start on the garden bed tomorrow,” Joel says when you come down the steps. “This way you can start planting.”

Your face brightens and you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Really?” you ask. “Are you done with the other job?”

“We will be today,” he says and pulls you in for a kiss.

The two of you manage to get through dinner that night and go to sleep cuddling. You let the exhaustion of the day take over and will yourself to sleep.

The sky is still dark with only a sliver of orange glow peeking out over the horizon when you wake to Joel’s incoherent mumbling.

His arm slips around your waist and he tugs you into him and his hands start to roam, softly tracing your curves while his lips find your shoulder.

You hum in pleasure and turn to face him, pressing closer.

He starts to tug at your panties and push your thighs apart.

“Joel?” you whisper, realizing he’s half asleep.

When all he does is sigh your name you take his face in your hands and start to pepper him with kisses.

“Baby, wake up.”

His eyes pop open and he looks at you sleepily.

“Why did you wake me?” he asks. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” you whisper.

“I was having the best dream,” he sighs.

As he starts to wake up more and realize his position he gets grumpier.

“I wasn’t dreaming,” he says more to himself than you. “This fucking sucks!”

He rolls away and rubs his hands over his face.

“Then just give in and lose,” you say quietly.

His eyes find yours and you can see the war of emotions whirling inside them.

“Darlin’…”

With a pained expression he pushes off the bed and goes to shower, locking the door behind him.

“Damn it!” you groan when you hear it click. “So close again!”

You’ve taken the day off to prepare your seedlings and do some last-minute shopping. Tommy shows up with a smile and a hug and whispers, “what’s been his problem this week?”

You steel yourself and give him a shake of your head. “No idea! Why?”

“Well, something crawled up his ass because he’s been grumpier than usual!”

With a laugh you give Tommy a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and turn away so he can’t see your expression of glee. At least you’re extra sure Joel’s suffering too.

You leave the boys to go to the garden store, enjoying strolling around and taking your time. When you return with several new plants you find Joel and Tommy hard at work.

“Hey darlin’” Joel says when you pull up and roll down the window.

He rests the shovel in the soil and puts his hand on his hip, popping his knee out as he exhales.

“Need help carrying anything?”

As he waits for an answer you just stare, sweeping your eyes over him from head to toe.

He’s just sweaty enough. His tan skin glistening in the sunlight and his dark hair sticking to the back of his neck. His tee shirt is clinging to the outline of his broad shoulders and the muscles in his forearms flex and bulge as he adjusts the shovel and starts digging again. His dark jeans are pulled tight over his thick thighs and his hands dwarf the handle of the tool.

Tommy watches the whole exchange with a bemused expression.

“Did you need help?” Joel asks again after he throws a few more shovels full of soil in the planter.

“Huh?” you ask, clearly dazed.

He stabs the shovel into the ground and wipes his hands on his jeans, rounding the car and tapping on the trunk.

You open it but stay in the car and watch him carry your plants to the steps.

“You ok?” Tommy asks as he leans on the window.

“Fine,” you say quietly as you watch Joel bend down. “I’m just hot…and thirsty,” you trail off.

Tommy moves away when you open the door.

“Want something?” you ask him.

“Sure, something cold would be nice.”

You nod and head into the house, skirting Joel who’s rearranging your plants and avoiding any eye contact with either of them.

You pour three glasses of cold lemonade with ice and lift one to your lips, drinking down some of the cool liquid then pressing it to your face to cool your skin.

“Fuck,” you mutter quietly and turn to look out the front window.

Joel’s carrying tools from the truck and every time he lifts something his shirt rides up and exposes the dark trail of hair below his belly button.

You’re so thirsty.

You take another long gulp then set the glass down and lean against the counter. Your lost in your lascivious thoughts and never hear Joel come in. It isn’t until he’s close enough that you can smell his distinct scent that you startle and find his dark gaze on you.

“Tommy said you were gettin’ drinks,” he states and inches closer, slowly and carefully like he’s approaching a feral animal.

“I was,” you breathe out and enjoy a closer look at him.

He stands toe to toe with you and says your name in a questioning tone. You snap out of your pensive state and focus your eyes on his handsome face. He’s studying you with a look that’s intense and at the same time his eyes sparkle.

He removes the glass from your hand and sets it on the counter, taking your palm and kissing it softly.

“Still,” he starts and checks his watch, “nine hours left in the day.”

“Oh,” you say softly, your breath hitching when he turns your hand in his and kisses along your knuckles. “Shouldn’t you get back to work?”

Your words are weak and you’re giving everything away- and he knows it.

“You’re about to lose at your own game darlin’,” he simpers.

His words momentarily clear your head and you press yourself back against the counter, putting a small amount of space between you both.

“Why me?” you ask. “You’re the one who came in house looking for trouble.”

He grabs your waist and before you can protest you’re pressed against every inch of him.

“Trouble?” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

You can feel how hard he is and it makes you shiver with anticipation.

“I’m warnin’ you darlin’.”

“Joel…”

He rubs the pad of calloused thumb across your bottom lip. The need to kiss you is overwhelming, but he somehow manages to hold back and simply brushes his lips over yours then dips his head to run his nose along the column of your neck with a deep inhale.

When he stops his mouth is hovering over your ear. “ Let me be clear darlin.’ Tonight when I finally get between those legs I’m going to fuck you over and over again to make up for the last three days. With my fingers, my tongue…my cock. You’re going to feel me every time you take a step.”

Your breath races in and out of your lungs, every part of you reacting to his promised words. But you’re unwilling to completely relinquish control so you trail your fingers down his stomach, reaching under his shirt to softly graze them through that dark trail of hair and loving how his muscles contract.

“You better.”

The words are whispered and breathy but you manage to get them out before gently pushing on his chest and slipping from his grasp.

His muttered curses are the last thing you hear before you rush up the steps for another cold shower.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989 @lizette50

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #established relationship

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fastandcarlos · 13 hours

Text

Soft Moments : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

: ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

The smell of something cooking was the perfect thing for Charles to be greeted with as he walked through the front door. His eyes were drawn to you, making yourself busy and blissfully unaware that your partner had walked through the door.

“Hey,” he whispered, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Your smile grew as you felt Charles rest his chin against your shoulder.

“When do you get home?” You mumbled as a trail of kisses was placed along your neck whilst your hands danced across the kitchen counter keeping everything ticking over.

“Not long,” he hummed, “I missed you today.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle back at Charles, “you saw me five hours ago,” you reminded him, spinning around so that the two of you now stood face to face.

“Five hours too long,” Charles whispered, kissing against your lips gently. “What’s cooking, good looking?”

“Your favourite.”

: ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

A groan came from Max as he walked through the front door to still find you sat at your desk, exactly where he found you sat a few hours ago. Straight away he walked over, taking the pens out of your hands and ignoring your protests.

“You need to rest,” he reminded you, shaking his head as you pouted, exclaiming with your hands to him the work you had remaining.

“I’m busy,” you huffed, but Max defied you, picking you up and sitting you into his lap as he sat in your desk chair, holding both of his hands securely against your waist.

“Not anymore,” he chuckled, “you’re all mine instead.”

Your head shook as Max checked you over, hoping you’d at least tried to look after yourself during the day. “I’m alright,” you whispered, almost reading his mind.

“I know,” he murmured, peppering a kiss against the tip of your nose. “No more work is allowed today, you have to have some time off love.”

“Yes boss.”

: ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

The nod of your head was all that Lando needed as he offloaded about how busy race weekend was, knowing as always you’d understand him perfectly. He was vulnerable with you, comfortable and safe.

“You’re home now,” you whispered, brushing the hair out of Lando’s face. For the first time in days he felt himself relax and begin to settle once again.

“You’re the best,” he murmured as he nuzzled tighter into your hold, allowing his eyes to close and forget who he was and what he did for a moment.

“I didn’t do anything,” you laughed, “I’m just here.”

Lando’s head tilted back to be able to look up at you, “you don’t just do nothing, you do everything, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be an amazing race driver, and a pretty cool boyfriend,” you assured him, offering him yet another comforting smile that Lando always craved from you.

“You’re still the best.”

: ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

The hum of delight that came from Carlos made your heart skip a beat, the two of you were contently tangled in with each other, laid out on the bed together and not wanting to move for the rest of the day.

“Keep doing that,” Carlos murmured as your hands slipped out of his hair momentarily, brushing through the thick strands and curling them round your finger.

“You like it?” You joked, already knowing what Carlos’ answer would be before you even asked the question. “Shall I carry on playing with your hair.”

“You’re not allowed to stop,” Carlos instructed, “never ever.”

The smile that looked up at you made your cheeks blush, Carlos staring sweetly as he always did. “I don’t think I’ll be allowed to do that somehow.”

“I give you permission,” he continued to argue. “Maybe I could tell my team that you playing with my hair will help me win more races.”

“You’re insane Sainz.”

: ̗̀➛ George Russell

Your eyebrows knitted together as George grabbed the other ends of the duvet cover that you were folding, standing proudly with a smile as he silently offered you a helping hand to sort things after watching you struggle for a while.

“I could get used to this,” he suddenly announced as George stepped forwards and brought his corners to yours to start folding the duvet cover up.

“Get used to what?” You responded in confusion, uncertain as to what had suddenly sent your boyfriend into a squishy mess before you.

“Just regular things,” he smiled, “like what proper couples do.”

You struggled to hold back your smile as you folded once again. “I never had you down to be the domesticated kind of boyfriend you know.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” George teased as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, giving you space to finish the job.

“You’re a mystery sometimes.”

: ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

The feeling of a hand cupping against the side of your face was enough to lull you out of the daydream you’d been having, slowly waking yourself in amongst the comfort of a warm embrace and the faint whispers of your boyfriend.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Lewis jokingly whispered as he watched your eyes slowly flutter open, relieved to finally be back home again.

“Morning,” you hummed, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. “Did I mention how happy I am to have you back at home and in bed with me?”

“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Lewis chuckled.

You shuffled further into his embrace, “you have no idea how happy my heart is the first day you get home, it’s the best feeling in the world.”

“What about every other day?” He asked, continuing to mess with you. “Do you just get bored of me by about day three and want to send me back?”

“I’d never bore of you.”

: ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

You smiled appreciatively across at Daniel as your tears finally began to subside. Your breath was still shaky, heart still racing, but at least you had Daniel by your side to comfort you through it all.

“Works sucks,” he whispered, wrapping a strong grip around your frame. “I’m sorry it’s so tough for you sweetheart, it’s not fair of them to do this.”

“What do I do?” You honestly asked Daniel, praying that somehow he had the solution to how you were going to solve your problems at work.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I’m going to help you through it.”

Your head rested against Daniel’s chest, “what would I do without you? Even in my worst moments you still manage to somehow make me smile.”

“I guess I’m just a pro,” Daniel sniggered, kissing against the top of your head to provide yet another distraction from what you were going through.

“That you are.”

: ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

You flopped down beside Logan on the sofa, straight away it was as if he knew exactly what you needed, opening his arms for you to roll right into, settling against his strong chest and tangling your legs together.

“That bad of a day?” He quizzed, resting his head against the top of your own. “At least you get to come home to me, aren’t you the luckiest?”

“I am,” you sincerely responded, “I’ve been counting down the minutes most of the day until I was able to come home and receive all your cuddles.”

“Aw babe,” Logan smirked, feeling a tad proud of himself.

Your head shook as you heard the smugness in his voice. “Stop trying to ruin the moment, I’m being serious, your cuddles are just the best.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Logan whispered, squeezing you even tighter against his body. “What do you say to just staying here for the rest of the evening?”

“I like the sound of that.”

: ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

You could feel Lance’s eyes staring across at you as yet another yawn escaped, struggling to keep your eyes open despite the two of you only slipping into bed and settling down a few moments earlier.

“Get some rest,” Lance whispered, tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ears. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“But I’ve barely spoken to you,” you sighed softly, “I want to hear all about your day and hear how preparations for the race are going.”

“We’ve got tomorrow,” Lance reminded you, “you’re my priority.”

You smiled appreciatively back at Lance, poking against his chest. “How about a nap? Then you can fill me in on all the details that missed.”

“We can nap,” Lance confirmed, pulling you into his side, “but only because you’re too stubborn to ever listen to what I have to say.”

“I’m just always right.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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shuenkio · 2 days

Text

Honeymoon 🌹

Paring: Heeseung X male!reader

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Cw: heavy nsfw ;) cum inside, belly bulge, unprotected sex etc

Summary: You want to ride that crazy cow ride, so hee offers you a free ride.

Read at your own risk.

Word: 2.5k

Lack of massive perfect words, pardon me if it overdoes [words]

Getting married to Heeseung after knowing each other for quite some time was a great experience. He was lovely, is a gentleman, loves to take care of you, and he's also a grandma's boy. You've never seen him cursing or doing dirty stuff like normal adults do; instead, he was soft toward you, as if you were his diamond. Or maybe he never showed up?

He decided to take you to his home for your Honey Moon together since he wanted to show you where he was growing up.

You agreed without any second thought; before the next thing you know, you're already standing under the hot sunlight, shining through your hat. The wind, the fresh air, and the summer felt so ascending.

"This is amazing, hee!" You said as you breathed in the cold breeze to your lungs. This is better than city life 360°.

"I know you would like it, Bob. Now let's go to my grandparents's house; we're going to stay there for a few days." He uttered as a soft smile spread over his face, signing in relief as you loved his idea of coming here.

Arriving at the destination, Heeseung's grandparents immediately came out and greeted both of you with a warm welcome. Not only do they support you, but they also love you as if you're their grandchild and treat you like everyone else.

They help to move your luggage and stuff, even though you insist they should not; however, it won't work for them. They also prepared your shared room with Heeseung with a lot of decorations that fit your personality, which show how much they're dragged into your background.

Thanking them is not enough; you want to pay back for all their hard work by showing your gratitude. Again, they won't let you, as they said your presence was more than enough for them. You were touched by their words, as you're on the edge of a crying river, but Heeseung was there to comfort you, or else you would look so ugly in front of them. They're so sweet.

During the day, after spending a night at Heeseung's grandparent's house, they suggested your husband take you somewhere nice for your honeymoon because Heeseung is an outside person. He knew a lot of places, and he was born here too, so don't question him.

Your husband thought for a while before making up his mind by taking you to the racetrack, where people love going there for horse riding, competition, bets for money, and many more thrilling events.

Your eyes filled with sparks when he recommended Racetrack for your date. You immediately said yes in an aggressive, cute manner. He was giggling at your reaction, smiling from ear to ear as he adored you even more.

"Okay, then let's go!"

At the racetrack.

Heeseung brought two tickets for both of you for the show of horse racing. The horse racing was epic; you've never seen such a thing like this before since you're a city boy.

Now you've realized that this is better than any sports you've watched, and you prefer watching this instead of football because, why not? This is so addictive; riding at a fast pace, reaching for the goal, definitely gives the rollercoaster feeling.

The show comes to an end with a winner, the one you're rooting for as You scream in victory and celebrate the moment with other people. Your lover was standing there beside you, a bit jealous that you forgot about him; however, he just shrugged it off and formed a delightful smile. Seeing you're happy makes him happy too, putting jealousy back away.

---

Making your way back home, out of the venue, your eyes suddenly lay on a carnival event. It's a crazy cow ride, where many people come to challenge a bull machine that moves at a wild speed. You release your hand from your husband's grip before running to see. I left Heeseung all alone once again as he scoff in upset with your childish behavior.

"Love! Love, can I ride that?? It's so cool." You said your eyes turned into stars watching the kids ride that crazy machine. Heeseung narrowed his eyebrow and took a closer look as he shook his head as a sign of no.

"Awwae, why not? I want to ride that, please." You beg, with your puppy eyes, for your husband's permission, but still, he's disagreeing. As he intertwined your hand, taking you home.

"Nope bob! It's getting late now, and that thing looks dangerous. You don't want to end up at the hospital, don't you?" He responds, barely looking at you while he's talking, which upsets you even more.

"But come on, love, it was once. I swear, I rarely come to a place like this. Give your husband a chance, please." You left no choice but to try all your methods to melt his heart, but nothing seemed to work on him; he was already ignoring you.

You pout in disappointment; let it be as you let out a heavy sign as a result.

A few minutes later, he suddenly spoke.

"There's something you can ride at home; stop sulking or I'll kiss your swollen lips." He finally broke his silence. In return, a joyful frown appears on your face, jumping in happiness.

"Really, but what kind? Like that machine one? There's another place nearby your grandparents house." You started to question him with a lot of questions. He answered with only one word.

"You'll see yourself, and it's also the real one." Heeseung replies, bending down to your level before whispering to your ear in a low, seductive tone. His hot breath hits your skin, giving you unexpected goosebumps.

"Tsk, I'll look forward to it then, but if you're lying to me, you're dead."

Walking into the room, you throw your body on the soft king bed size; you didn't even bother to get changed since you're too tired to do so. You nuzzle your face, dipping to the bed sheet, breathing in no space air, before you feel a warm hug pressed behind your back with his head brushing into the crooked of your neck.

"Hmm?" You hum in response, asking what he wanted, until something poked hard underneath your tailbone. You immediately open your eyes from your rest, knowing too well what exactly he wants.

"Hee?"

"Yea?"

"..."

"Sigh* yes, I want to start this with you, love." Heeseung said, his tone almost sounding guilty. You roll your eyes, lost in thought, asking him to leave your body. As you turn around, look at your surroundings.

"Bu-.. Y'know, are you thinking what I am thinking? This is your grandparents house." You utter, almost whisper, anxious at the idea that someone might catch both of you doing this couple stuff in the house, especially his grandparents.

Heeseung laughed under his throat, with a mix of excitement and humor. He moved closer to you as he cupped your face, looking at your endearment.

"Love! Once I closed this room's door, not even a single fly could interrupt us. This room is noisy. proof even if you're scream nobody gonna hear ya~" Heeseung mutters as his gaze grows darker at the thought of having you under him. You almost jaw-dropped upon hearing the dirty talk from your husband. This is probably just the beginning; what will come more once he gets full control of you?

"Wow, you're something darling, I have never seen you're like this before." You stutter. His eyes are burning, full of lust and desire, like a wolf wanted to breed its mate, dominant them until they're satisfied.

You move backwards using the strength in your arm until your back hits the headboard.

"I want to make sure, do you really want to have s- uh se-"

"Yes, I want to fuck you, mn! Don't be shy; this is our honeymoon after all, didn't it?" He smirked as his hand traced down on your skin in ecstasy. Your breath hitched at his touch; he was so good at this. Not even a day you'd thought one day you would have sex with him, since he's too good at hiding his wild side.

"Now do I have your permission, my love?" He licks his lip, patting like a puppy, as he feels like his bulge is getting more painful in these clothes.

You nod slowly and accept your fate. Heeseung is full of surprises. Even though you're now his husband, there are too many things he is hiding from you for real.

He began to take your clothes off piece by piece until you left with nothing but a naked body, which turned him on even more at your milky smooth skin. The heat in his body is getting out of control, begging to claim you sooner.

He soon ripped out his t-shirt and unbuckled his belt.Now both of your clothes are all over the floor, and your two naked bodies lie on the bed, ready for the real moment to start.

"One moment, mn." Heeseung stood up on his feet, went to close the door, and locked it as he found something in his bag. Then he pulled out a labricate.

Your mind went blank. Question yourself about how the hell he had that without your knowing. As you deep down in your mind, you remember the word he said—that he would take you to the crazy cow ride—but look at you and him now—very unholy.

Unexpectedly, He pulls your hip with both of his hands, making your head fall to the pillow. He positions himself in front of your entrance as he puts liquid on his huge cock and your hole.

"Hee hee, this is my first time!" You state it out of the blue, which makes him tilt his head in return. You expect a shock reaction from him; however, instead of confusion, a big grin spread across his face. He looks really happy right now after hearing that.

"Even better, love; don't worry, I'll be gentle."

You gulp down, ready for what is coming for you, with a mix of thrilling and nervous.

Without further ado, he put a tip inside you, and as a result, the two of you moan in unison. His head was big enough to spread your hole, rolling his hip to warm you up to get used to his massive size.

"Please put it in Heeseung; I want you." Your words slipped out of your mouth after you adjusted to the warm skin inside your asshole. His crotch was so big that you wanted them pulsing inside you to ruin your beautiful pink hole.

Heeseung didn't waste his time, pushing his shaft all inside in a swift motion. Once he's fully in, he begins to move slowly, still respecting your first-time experience.

His cock is not going to lie; feel too good for you to not grip on the bedsheets underneath. He's making your body tremble and shiver as a small belly bulge is visible on your skin, even though he's just pushing at a slow pace.

"Faster love! I want faster; I don't care anymore." You said this as you were still catching your breath at his slower speed. What will happen if he pounds on you like an animal?

"Your wish is my command, my little husband," he said, squeezing tight on your leg and throwing both of your legs on his shoulder. The next thing you know, he slams his crazy big cock inside you at rapid speed. Not even warning you.

Thumps thumps

The wet noise started to occur in the empty room, and with every pound he pushed in, his lower abdomen was always pressed against your butt cheeks, making you squirm in no time.

His cock spread your wall, almost tearing you into two, but as he continued to fuck you in, the painful feeling faded away, leaving only the arousal inside. Since this is your first time, naturally, your ass is clenching on his cock like a baby grip.

He cried out in gasps; your hole sent a shockwave to him. As he continues to grind his hip, jerking inside you, chasing for pleasure and climax,.

He increases his speed with every thrust once he gets full control and access to your body when your entrance gets used to his cock.

You catch out of your guard, and after he quickly changes his position, he puts you on top of his stomach, still buried inside of you, as he lay on the bed instead.

"You said you want to ride a crazy cow ride; go on~ ride me as you please, babe!" Your eyes went wide, realizing he's behind this. Your gaze softens, leaning down before you bite his bottom lip, kissing him in passionate tension. You no longer be mad at him because he's making you feel good right now. He returned your kiss, lurking his tongue inside your mouth with his wet saliva, eating you two in one at the same time.

"Fuck uhh," you quake, feeling a jolt send all over your body as your body signals your about to cum.

"Hee-ahh, narggg, I will cum on you. You want it?" You become more breathless with every thrust he pushes in, his finger still busy spreading your hole to take him all in.

"Don't hold back, love~ cum for me; now would you like it if I filled you in?" He's too close to the edges, hitting you in every sweet spot. He asked for your permission once again if he could spill his cum inside your hole. You nod aggressively without even answering him.

In the very last few final thrusts, his tip crushed on your G-spot, making you go insane for a sec, as your cum splashed out on his toned abs, unable to hold in.

"HOLY MOTHER FUCKER AHHH," your chest heaving in an error motion as you arch your back, throwing your face above the ceiling, to the sensitive pleasure he's pushing you in.

"Ah-... Ahhh, mn, I'm comming b-brace yourself." With another one last push, his cock started to twitching as the warm, hot seed filled you in. He let out a heavy moan, like vomit, as he reached his goal.

You collapse on his body while his cock falls out of your hole, like a river of cum dripping out of your entrance.

"That was one of the hell rides, mn? How do you feel, Mn? Am I hurting you?" He presses a kiss on your forehead as he holds on to your waist, supporting your weight on his.

You inhale and exhale, rolling your eyes to the back of your brain, still feeling it.

"I never know. Fuck feel this good."

"So you want another round, mn?"

"No, but I want you in."

"Like, what love?" He asked your unfinished question. You couldn't explain what your desire was to him, so you snaked your hand before grabbing his cock and pushing inside of you again.

"I love how you feel inside; please don't pull out." You responded embarrassed, covering your face in his chest. He snorted at your reaction and boldness, as he started to love this side of you.

"Anything you want, little one~ not to mention that I could be there forever if you insist."

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to all pics&dividers

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felikatze · 8 hours

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QoL as Kindness: ISAT's diagetic tutorials

This is the hopefully first of a series of posts I'll be doing reinterpreting ISAT's Loop through the lens of START AGAIN: a prologue's context. As such....

Major spoilers for both ISAT (all acts, including optional content) and SASASAP (all endings).

One of the biggest differences between ISAT and SASASAP is it’s QoL – it’s Quality of Life. QoL refers to all the little things that make a game just that little bit more playable; quick to navigate menus, quicksaving… tutorials.

It’s not really a surprise that SASASAP is as RPGmaker as RPGmaker gets. This isn’t a criticism, just an observation, and also a compliment to how much Adrienne’s skills with the engine improved between releases. Still, there’s some things that ISAT has over SASASAP.

ISAT’s QoL is absolutely essential to making it bearable. Anyone ever watch an ISAT playthrough where the player sighed in relief as the tutorial on picking where you loop came up?

SASASAP lacks a lot of ISAT’s QoL because it’s an earlier project without a studio backing it, but what impresses me is how this change ties into narrative.

Because the greatest chunk of ISAT’s greatest QoL is provided by Loop.

Even before you ever meet them, they’re already over your shoulder. Loop is the tutorial, speaking to you inside your brain. It’s genius, in that no player is ever going to question this. Hell, SASASAP’s movement tutorial is the exact same thing with less flavoring

This reframes what the QoL is – it’s not just a convenience to the player, it’s a convenience to Siffrin, too. It’s diegetic. It’s not something the game is giving you, it’s something Loop is giving you. Let’s look at what Loop gives you, and more importantly, why.

Zone Out

The first of the QoL features I want to talk about is the Zone Out function, the absolute bread and butter of not making this game a total slog.

The Zone Out feature as is did not exist in SASASAP (because Adrienne didn’t know how to do it yet) – instead, some doubled scenes let you just skip them entirely outright. There’s only two extremes: listen to all of it again, or none of it.

ISAT’s zone out system is much more dynamic, since it fast forwards dialogue line by line, letting you zone in whenever you’d like, and forcing you to zone in whenever a) something notably new happens, or b) whenever Siffrin speaks.

The way this feature is introced by Loop is kind of genius. Because Loop’s tutorial is about one thing – it’s okay to skip.

“You might miss what your party is saying, but who cares, right? If you make them mad, you can always loop back and they'll have forgotten all about it!”

It’s a cruel joke, or at least it seems that way on the surface. It’s also genuine advice. And a cruel joke at the same time. For Siffrin, freshly starting the loops, this is scandalous, but for Loop, who’s long since desensitized, it’s the same old same old.

What Loop’s doing here, by joking about Siffrin not listening to the party, is alliviate Siffrin’s guilt when they inevitably take Loop up on the offer. Because, even though Loop loves their party members…

From SASASAP, when sitting outside the bathroom:

(Will you get farther this time?) (Will you live this time?) (Or are you stuck listening to the same lines forever?) (…) (Stars, you’re so tired.)

Loop knows intimately well that Siffrin is going to drive themself insane trying to be a people pleaser every single loop, so this joke is telling the outright – don’t bother.

At first, Siffrin (and the player) still might. I really enjoyed reading the same conversations five times minimum because they’re fun and I’m deranged, but at some point I did start skipping them. And it was a relief to know there wouldn’t be anything new.

Siffrin: “Should I check everything again?” Loop: “You mean, should you check the same barrels, the same closets, the same objects on tables every loop?” Loop: “I mean, you can, but… You know things won’t change, right?” Loop: “If you really want to get a certain item again, or listen to your friends repeat something funny, you should!” Loop: “I personally would only check two or three things every loop, and ignore the rest.” Loop: “It will just make you crazy to expect something to change, when nothing will.” Loop: “All that might change is your reaction to it!”

The game is telling you, Loop is telling Siffrin, don’t drive yourself insane playing, please. The characters aren’t going to remember if you skipped something.

In the course of my script wizard activities, I’ve gotten an in-depth view of just how much that actually holds up. Pretty much all major differences are by Act, unrelated of how often you’ve done something. Minor variations apply for other things, but… those variations are minor.

And this also points out what all those variations are. Siffrin’s reactions!

Loop’s pre-empting Siffrin’s guilt, cuz they probably felt it themself. Hell, we do know they felt the pressure to perform and make sure nobody notices anything’s wrong, in SASASAP! Right up until the finale, Loop was driving themself up the wall.

(You have to act, you can't crack, you have to fake it and play it exactly as you did the first time for the whole way through so your friends don't find out anything is wrong) (You don't want to know what would happen if they knew their quest was in vain) (If they knew their quest for justice and change always ends in stillness and death!)

Acting everything out perfectly is one of the ending paths for SASASAP, which results in… complete and utter failure. Obviously.

(You acted perfectly normally, didn't you?) (Nothing out of place, nothing weird, every line the same as it might've been the first time?) (Ah…That was your mistake, wasn't it…?) (Because… Didn't your very first time… end exactly like this?) (The King throws the Housemaiden's body onto the floor again.)

Zoning out for too many conversations actually awards weird points in SASASAP, locking you out of the Perfect Ending. On the other hand, acting “perfectly” in ISAT… has no awards whatsoever. No special scene or or optional event or anything at all. You get nothing for paying attention!!!

So spare yourself the pain already, m’kay?

(On that note: I don’t think Loop not being sarcastic about it would’ve like… worked. At the start of ACT 2, Siffrin isn’t going to believe Loop when they say “Stop forcing yourself to relive the same thing over and over because you’ll start seeing your friends as disposable actors and lose touch with reality.” That all comes later, when Siffrin can look back on Loop’s words and see how right they were.)

Loop Back

The second biggest sigh of relief in any given ISAT playthrough is probably this specific tutorial.

Loop graciously shows you that you don’t need to loop back all the way to the beginning every single time. You can pick and choose where to go, even going forward by paying up with Memories of Skirmish.

This is a feature SASASAP does not possess, for the reason that it is much, much shorter, only covering about as much as one floor of ISAT’s three floor House.

But… since this is a character showing this to you, Loop showing this to you, we can ask… when did Loop learn this? After all, START AGAIN, Loop’s loops, do not have this feature.

“It'll save you time, so it's important, so listen up!”

This feature not existing in SASASAP means this is a thing that Loop did not know exists during their own time as Siffrin. god fuck it let’s go.

And that’s just the thing, isn’t it? SASASAP’s Siffrin does not know how to do this. They cannot pick and choose where they end up, as demonstrated wonderfully by SASASAP’s True Ending. There’s an even more wonderful implication, though –

On SASASAP’s Perfect End path, when exiting the final room before the King, Isabeau says this:

Isabeau: “…I'm glad you're feeling better, though!” Siffrin: (…?) “What do you mean…?” Isabeau: “Oh!!! Um, you were…” Isabeau: “Well! You were acting a little weird when we were way closer to the Castle's entrance……” Isabeau: “You weren't really listening to us, you were kinda smiling the way you do when you're actually not happy…” Isabeau: “…and you like, almost acted like you knew exactly where you were going?” Isabeau: “But clearly you're feeling better now! You're acting just like normal!!!”

SASASAP’s Siffrin knew how to do this, somehow managed to lock themself into the House’s last floor… and then forgot how to get back. By making this tutorial, Loop is ensuring that Siffrin never will.

“What can I do next?” – SASASAP’s greatest flaw

So, if you’ve had the pleasure of playing START AGAIN START AGAIN START AGAIN: a prologue yourself (as you should), then you’ve probably faced this scenario, or some variation of it:

I got to the end, I died to the King, but… what do I do next? The game tells me to go for the extremes, but how do I do that?

Maybe you try another loop, but just get the same ending again (or a differnet one, depending on a coinflip). You’re getting frustrated. Getting the Perfect Ending demands pinpoint precision to avoid everything weird, the True Ending demands good memorization of every single damn key in the game, and the order you do everything in. (Though, to be fair, the requirements on that one are actually more merciful than one might expect.)

Point is, in SASASAP, it’s incredibly easy to get stuck in that endless loop of “What the fuck do I do now?” It’s not uncommon to think you got it right only to get the same result anyways. What does one do in this situation?

They consult a guide, obviously.

START AGAIN’s ending requirements are frustrating. They are. When I tried to go for either the Perfect or the True Ending, I saved inside every single room, just so I could get right back to it when I inevitably fucked up five times minimum. This is both criticism… and praise. Because Loop is the major reason that ISAT does not suffer from this same problem.

Whenever you’re stuck in ISAT, Loop is just a single loop or call away at any times. And besides that, no plot requirement in ISAT demands nearly as many moving pieces all at once as SASASAP does – the “Sus Route” has been relegated to an optional ACT 4 exclusive event, instead of the game’s True Ending.

Instead of consulting an external guide on how to progress, you have one right there in the game, always ready with the next tip. They’re not infallible, mind you – enough time in Isatcord’s #game-help proves that, but Loop solved all of the moments I got stuck and frustrated in ISAT for me.

(Primarily that one time you need to figure out that a photo is similar to being stuck in time. That moment in particular is actually commendable, as you need to ask Loop about it twice before they tell you, leaving you a last shot to try and figure it out on your own.) Loop is a feature that nullifies SASASAP’s greatest flaw in its successor, and they choose to do so.

Memory of Keys

In my humble opinion, Loop does this because… they do not want Siffrin to suffer as they did. They want Siffrin to escape. And there is no greater example of their kindness than how Loop treats keys.

First of all, all keys in the game have a sparkling effect on them if you’ve picked them up at least once before, making it immediately clear where in the room they are. This means you don’t need to search every single room top to bottom for them, as you had to do for any keys and Star Crests in SASASAP. It’s some nice QoL that just means you don’t have to re-search the same area if you happened to forget which specific cupboard the key was in.

Key point being: SASASAP did not have this feature. In SASASAP, you did have to memorize where all the keys are, and doing so is expected if you want the True Ending.

Loop does not want Siffrin to have to do this. Because…

From SASASAP’s True End:

(The torch in the infirmary? That’s important!) (The key in the book? Soooo important.) (The names of your friends, that have been by your side throughout this entire adventure?) (Not worth remembering.)

Compared to ISAT’s ACT 2:

Siffrin: “How come I can see where the keys are?” Loop: “Whaaaaat? You caaaaaan? How can that beeeeeee?” Siffrin: “Is it thanks to you?” Loop: “Maybe.” Loop: “I figured you'd have other things to worry about than where a stupid key is.” Loop: “No need to thank me.”

To Loop, that they memorized the House’s layout over their friends’ names is a defining moment to their own failures. After all, in all likelihood, the True End of SASASAP is the last loop before they called it quits. It’s a traumatic experience from them, one that came from having to remember all the dumb fucking keys.

They do not want Siffrin to experience this. They do not want Siffrin to have to memorize the House, to push away what actually matters in favor of efficiency. So Loop is directly, personally, giving them a boon, so that Siffrin does not have to.

Conclusion

There’s probably more tutorial things I could talk about, but I feel like you’re seeing the pattern now, even if I don’t bring up saving level ups or keeping equipment or the “You’re stuck” signifier, least of all cuz they don’t have direct points of comparison with SASASAP like my other examples do (SASASAP has no changeable equipment, and saving levels doesn’t matter if you only have one floor, and you can’t softlock either.). So.

Loop’s tutorials all belie a fundamental kindness to their character. Everything that made their own experience trapped in the timeloop just that bit worse, they’re choosing to do away with it for Siffrin. They are choosing to make Siffrin’s time here easier.

Zoning out too much lead to them never paying attention to their friends, forgetting their names, so they make sure that Siffrin can still zone back in whenever something new happens.

Loop trapped themself for years on the final floor, locking themself out of progress that might lie further back, so they’re ensuring Siffrin knows exactly how to loop forwards and backwards so it doesn’t happen again.

Loop lets Siffrin keep equipment across loops to cut down on time spent doing the exact same thing over and over.

They are saving Siffrin time, and they are giving Siffrin comfort. At every single turn, Loop is saving Siffrin from the same pitfalls they fell into without anyone to guide them out.

It's honestly incredible to transform an increase in skill into an actual narrative element. Yes, SASASAP sucks more to play. But ISAT sucks less, because Loop wants it to. It's the perfect marriage of real world circumstance and storytelling. I could... probably pull another comparison here, saying it's like a game and its remake - overhauled graphics, expanded story, and loads and loads of QoL, because the makers of the remake realized something. They love the original, but parts of it do suck, and there's so much that can be done to make a new player's experience smoother. Metanarrative commentary,,,, woah,,,,,

Every single one of these QoL elements I’ve mentioned function as a crutch for a player’s failing memory, but also Siffrin’s (similar to what I talked about in my previous essay on ISAT’s ludonarrative - the player and Siffrin are always in sync, even in how tutorials benefit them). Loop doesn’t know the player exists though (only the Change God does), so they do everything for Siffrin.

To keep Siffrin from forgetting. To help Siffrin focus on what’s important. To make Siffrin’s journey just a little bit less miserable. Loop directly improves ISAT’s QoL. For you. For Siffrin.

From Loop’s introduction:

Loop: “See, I’m useful! I’m very useful! That’s why I’m here, helpful Loop.” Siffrin: “Why are you helping me?” Loop: “…” Loop: “Because I think you should be helped.” Loop: “I won’t always have the answers, but… I think having someone on your side to talk to is better than dealing with this alone.” Loop: “Right?”

From Loop’s hangout:

“But it’s fine.” “Whether you believe me or not, I’m here to help you.” “So you can escape this loop.”

And finally, from the start of ACT 3:

Siffrin: “Are you really here to help me?” Loop: “Stardust…” Loop: “…” Loop: “Yes.” Loop: “If you can believe anything, believe that.” Loop: “I asked to be here, so I could help you.”

And I do believe them. Loop’s feelings on Siffrin are… complex, to say the least. They love Siffrin, and they hate him in equal measure. They’re jealous, and spiteful, but underneath everything…

In SASASAP, if you die to a Sadness thrice, you get this monologue:

(Sometimes, when you loop back here…) (In the corner of your eye, you can sometimes see someone that looks just like you.) (Is it a you from another loop? Remnants of your past failures?) (Are you going crazy?) (May they succeed where you cannot.)

#feli speaks #in stars and time #isat spoilers #start again: a prologue #sasasap #LOOP TIME BABEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY #WATCH OUT IT'S FELI TALKING ABOUT LUDONARRATIVE AGAIN

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toriangeli · 2 days

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I will spend my life making it up to you

OKAY. The thoughts I've had since that new teaser last night.

More than one person has called what happens between Louis and Armand in 2.04 a "dynamic shift." This wouldn't be that important if all they meant was that the two of them formed a cathartic new BDSM roleplay (which Jacob has alluded to, for sure, and on rewatch, you very much see it in the "You summoned me?"/"I felt your panic" exchange). If that was all it was, Assad wouldn't be calling it "the tipping point" of the season.

So what does it mean?

I think it means we've been reading this entire relationship wrong this whole time.

Book/movie spoilers ahead.

What we've seen: Armand does everything. He seems to be the gatekeeper to everything. He's the only one who can reach the bookshelves on the ceiling. He controls the lights and the windows. Louis asks him for the missing pages of Claudia's diaries. He lingers nearby during the interview, always ready to jump in if they venture near a subject that could be upsetting for Louis. With every new piece of information, confirmation bias has worked toward this idea that Armand is pulling all the strings.

Then Hannah Moscovitch said something in the Autumn Brown interview: that Armand wouldn't do something without Louis' permission because he is entirely Louis' creature. This seemed contradictory.

Jacob said Louis had become "the Lestat" of the Loumand relationship.

We had yesterday's episode's "dynamic shift."

Then last night, we got a new teaser where Armand and Louis have the following exchange:

Armand: I will spend my life making it up to you.

Louis: You'll never make it up to me.

Armand: I know.

My immediate thought was, naturally, that they are talking about Claudia's death. Look, if Armand can put the coven to sleep in an instant, he could have done it again long enough for Claudia to escape. He could have prevented it. He knows it, both in the book and in the show. And in the books, he is miserable about it. Louis notes how much so when they talk about it.

Later, we find out the real reason for Armand's extreme guilt. While he says he didn't plot to kill her, he admits to something even worse: he cut off Claudia's head and sewed it to an adult vampiress' body to give her a woman's body for once before her execution. He didn't do it out of charity, mind you--he just wanted to see what would happen. He says he's been haunted by it ever since, even having nightmares. Yes, Armand did something so horrible he traumatized himself.

Now, whether they include this experiment on the show (it would have to get past the network), I think simply failing to save Claudia is a good enough reason for this exchange in the teaser to take place.

And now, I'm looking at all those signs of Armand's controlling nature with new eyes.

See, Armand in the books can be controlling, but there's no evidence he ever is so with Louis. In fact, he's almost the opposite with Louis as he is with Daniel. Part of it is guilt, and part of it is desperation for love. After the vaguest of hints from the writers, people assumed their relationship on the show would be more regimental.

But I thought of the moment where Louis has Armand open his umbrella for him and light his cigarette, even going so far as to throw away his own lighter. And all those signs of control are starting to look like acts of servitude.

Bookshelves on the ceiling: any time Louis wants a book, Armand has to go fetch it for him. He can't get exasperated and tell him to get it for himself.

Turning lights and UV filters on and off: menial tasks demeaning to a partner rather than household staff.

Arranging for the missing pages of Claudia's diaries: Notice he doesn't say no, and in fact looks very nervous when asked. His only objection is that there is stuff about him on those pages he doesn't want made public, and he still agrees to it. It's like he is Louis' personal secretary.

Then there's the scene from last episode where the photos are mixed up. As soon as Armand clocks that Louis is accusing him of mixing things up on purpose, he starts stimming. He knows an argument he wants to avoid is coming, so he immediately tries to throw Rashid under the bus. Later, Louis is yelling at him for "embarrassing" him in front of Daniel, which is one of those textbook accusations toxic people use.

I think Louis is making Armand make it up to him.

There's something else Louis says: he accuses Armand of thinking he needs to be coddled. As if Armand pathologically placating him has been a thing in the past.

I want to be clear: this is not a "poor Armand" post. I think when the audience knows the full story, they will feel Armand got off easy. Because he did. I'd be tempted to do the same in Louis' shoes (but ultimately wouldn't want to see his face, so I don't think I'd go through with it). One of the reasons Armand is staying is because he knows he's getting off easy. If you tell me you would blame Louis for treating Armand this way, I wouldn't believe you. Armand deserves love, but he doesn't deserve to get it from Louis (I still ship it tho, I ship everything).

Now, there's no indication that Armand is afraid of Louis hurting him. The fact of him being stressed out about an incoming argument, and changing his behavior to avoid it, isn't the best sign--toxic partners will often use this tactic to gain capitulation--but by no means is this anywhere near his worst relationship.

It would all make his actions make much more sense: he's this jumpy about Daniel's intervention because his relationship with Louis is permanently on thin ice. He doesn't desire control over Louis for its own sake--that's not really an Armand thing, as much as people attribute it to him--he just wants to keep this man from ruining years of his hard work and effort put into this partnership. It's a sunk cost fallacy.

#armand #iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv amc #iwtv spoilers #louis de pointe du lac #tvc book spoilers

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

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9.1 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: You spent a lovely day at the Compound with Bucky, even if he did tell you he thinks you should stop having sex so you can focus on getting to know one another better.

A/N: In the interest of saving my arm, I'm going to move to a temporary every other day posting schedule. So, for the time being, updates will be Mon/Wed/Fri/Sun/Tue/Thus/Sat etc, at least until I am fully better.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily paced in the empty common room as she waited for Bucky to get back to the Compound from wherever he’d been when she’d texted him. She was furious. She was more than furious. She was enraged. After all the work she’d put into preparing their ‘friend’ date, he had the gall to stand her up, and not let her know until fifteen minutes after he was supposed to pick her up! What kind of a friend did something like that?

And then! When one of her recruits had come in after lunch, telling everyone who would listen how he’d seen Bucky Barnes ride off the compound grounds on his motorcycle with “a hot piece of ass” on the bike behind him, and that the “piece of ass” was wearing one of Bucky’s Henleys? How the fuck was she supposed to take that, if not a blatant slap to the face of their relationship? It was all her recruits could talk about for the next twenty minutes, gossiping like a bunch of little old ladies with absolutely nothing better to do with their time.

Until Lily made them run ten miles.

She couldn’t believe he was doing this to her. Risking their four years of friendship.

And all for what? Some random slag? Was he really that desperate to get his dick wet? Fuck, she’d be more than willing to help him out with that if he’d just ask her. Why was he being so difficult?

She stopped mid-turn when she heard the sound of the elevator doors opening. Spinning on her heel, she watched as Bucky exited and made his way slowly into the common room, looking like a man about to walk into his execution. Good, she thought. Let him feel ashamed for humiliating me like that.

“Hey, Lil,” he said when he’d finally reached her.

“Don’t you ‘hey, Lil’ me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “What you did last night was really hurtful, James”

“I said I was sorry, Lil,” he protested with a sigh, hands thrust deep into his pockets. “I didn’t mean to bail on you– it’s just… she was willing to give me another chance after I fucked it up yesterday morning. I didn’t want to risk blowing it.”

Lily scoffed. “So, you decided that impressing some random hookup was more important than keeping plans you made with your best friend of the last four years?”

“She’s not a random hookup, Lil,” Bucky said, his voice rising slightly. “I told you– I really like this one. I want this to work out between us.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “So, what? Her vagina is so magic you’re gonna let it turn you into a shitty friend?”

Bucky seemed taken aback by that, and Lily began pacing again. “Lil?” He cleared his throat, the sound stopping her in her tracks. “Is the reason you’re so bothered by this because… because you have feelings for me?”

Lily could feel all the blood drain from her face, and she was grateful not to be facing him because she knew she’d look as white as a ghost and completely give herself away.

“It’s okay if you do,” Bucky said into her silence. “I’d never invalidate your feelings, but you have to know that I don–”

“Ego trip much, Jamie?” Lily asked, turning around and giving the cheeriest fake laugh she could muster at a time like this. “You’re my best friend. I mean, I love you, but only as a friend. Don’t be ridiculous.”

She watched in dismay as a weight seemed to be visibly lifted off of Bucky’s shoulders as he leaned against one of the couches; his entire demeanor seeming lighter at her denial, and she was so glad she hadn’t been honest with him. If she had confessed how she felt and he had outright rejected her… Well, she didn’t know what she would do, but she knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Why would you even ask me such a thing?” she prodded, attempting to hide the desperation in her voice to know how the seed had been planted. “Honestly, how did that idea even get into your head?”

Bucky shrugged. “You just never seem to like any of the girls I date,” he said. “I thought that might’ve been why.”

Lily scoffed. “I can’t help it that your taste in women is terrible, Jamie,” she said, and felt a twinge of satisfaction when he flinched at her words. “And if I’m not mistaken, I’ve yet to be wrong about a single one of them in the end, no matter how great they seemed at the beginning. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be with you.”

She was lying to him through her teeth, and she knew that she should feel bad about it, but right now, nothing seemed more imperative than to protect herself from his rejection.

“I don’t care how much you like this girl, Jamie,” she went on. “It was still an asshole move to leave me hanging so that you could go fuck some slut you barely know.”

“Hey,” he said, rising to his full height and using a tone of voice that he had never used on her before. An angry tone. “I admit, taking off like that and not giving you more warning was not my finest moment, and I am sorry that I hurt your feelings, I really am. But she is not a slut, and I won’t let you call her that.”

Lily blinked at him for a few beats, her mouth hanging open in shock. He had never, not once in the entire four years of their friendship, raised his voice in anger toward her before. It was a little frightening.

And kind of hot.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh, trying to make her voice sound contrite while hoping for maximum pity at the same time. “I’m sorry. Look, I don’t want to fight with you. It just made me feel like you didn’t care about me. Like I don’t matter to you the second something better comes along.”

Bucky walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Lil,” he said, giving it a gentle squeeze, “you know that’s not true. You’re one of the most important people in my life. I messed up, and I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

“I feel like you’ve been saying that to me a lot lately, Jamie,” she said, and was rewarded when she saw him look away from her in shame. She’d cut him a little bit of slack. “How do you plan on making it up to me this time?” she asked with a smile.

Bucky’s entire face lit up, and Lily’s breath hitched. God, but he was beautiful when he smiled at her like that. “I was actually thinking,” he began, moving around the room as he grew excited, “that since I got you so pissed off, what better to get it out of your system than to go destroy some shit at The WarZone?”

Lily just stared at him, shocked. “That’s the place owned by that bitch Natasha invited to the bar on Friday, isn’t it?”

Bucky slowly nodded. “Uh, yeah… Major… Her name’s Major.”

Lily scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Bucky? After the way she treated me that night? You can’t honestly expect me to patronize her establishment after the way she humiliated me in front of all of our friends!?”

Bucky frowned at her, and Lily felt something in her stomach twist at his expression. “She didn’t embarrass you, Lil,” he said. “She was just responding to something you said to her first.”

“Well, I don’t care if that’s how you see it,” Lily said defensively. “She was still a nasty bitch to me. I don’t want to have anything to do with her, and I’m sure as shit not going to hang out with you in the business she runs.”

Bucky sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lil,” he said, as though it were paining him, “it’s really important to me that you make an effort to get along with Major.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Jamie, how could it be that important for me to get along with a random girl you just met the other—” The realization crashed over her like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” was all she could say.

Bucky blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah,” he said almost bashfully. “Major’s the girl I’ve been talking about, Lil. She’s the one I went to see last night.”

Lily’s stomach soured at the realization that Bucky had been sneaking around, lying to her these last few days, in order to go see that fucking bitch. “I—” she began. “You had sex with her Friday night, after you brought her home, didn’t you?”

Bucky nodded, not meeting her eye. He had lied to her face, again.

“I honestly can’t believe you’d put some slut you just met over your best friend, Jamie. That makes this whole thing even worse!”

“She is not a slut, Lily,” Bucky said, his voice clipped in renewed anger. “Don’t you dare call her that!”

“Well, what do you call a girl who sleeps with a guy she’s only known for a couple of hours? Would you prefer ‘tramp,’ or ‘floozy’? Something more in line with your times?”

“I had sex with her after only knowing her for a couple of hours,” Bucky said. “So, I guess you think I’m a slut, too.”

Lily’s eyes went wide at the implication of her words. “Of… of course not, Bucky. I would never insinuate–”

“There’s no difference between what she and I did, because we did it together,” he said. “So, either were both sluts, or neither one of us are.”

This conversation was getting horribly out of Lily’s control. “Look,” she said eventually, trying to get things back on track. If she had any hope of surviving this, she was going to have drastically change her tactics. “I don’t even actually care if you slept with her after only knowing her a few hours.” Oh, but she did, she reminded herself. “I’m pissed because ever since you’ve met this girl, it feels like you’ve done nothing but lie to me and toss me aside. That’s not the Jamie I know, and frankly, your behavior is concerning me.”

Bucky’s face softened, his anger dissipating at her words. “You’re right, Lil. I’ve been a dick, and I promise you, the lying is done. And I’m gonna be more considerate when it comes to communicating with you if I have to cancel plans,” he said.

Lily’s jaw twitched at his choice of words. Not ‘I won’t cancel on you again,’ or even ‘I won’t let this new girl come between us.’ Just a veiled threat that he would bail on her for Major, again and again. She was going to have to play this game very, very carefully if she had any hope of actually breaking them up. That meant, for now, keeping him on her side.

“Thank you, Jamie,” she said, plastering on a hundred watt smile. “You don’t know what that means to me.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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luvlucia · 2 days

Text

so wrong but so good - psh

summary: sunghoon and you are step-siblings but you can't help the undeniable tension between you two. || warnings: stepcest, sunghoon is possessive, sunghoon is toxic, degradation, slight praise kink, protected sex || genre: smut, angst, stepcest || word count: approximately 1485 || a/n: ty to my bestie @kjdhdjkfyk for giving me this idea!

Sunghoon never wanted me to come to this party with him. In fact, he didn't like the thought of me going to parties at all. His dad, my stepdad, had forced him to bring me along if he wanted to even go to the party in the first place. Sunghoon never wanted this.

When I happily got in Sunghoon's car, excited to go to a party for the first time, he was mumbling and grumbling, completely annoyed. Talking about how he was a grown man and shouldn't have to listen to his dad anymore. He openly voiced his discontent with me coming to the party with him. I ignored him though, not wanting him to sour my good night.

When we got to the party itself, we both parted ways, though little did I know, that Sunghoon was keeping an eye on me the whole time. He watched as guys approached me, attempting to flirt with me. I just brushed them off, not interested in them. Truth be told, I already liked someone. That someone was my stepbrother.

I didn't like Sunghoon right away. There was really nothing for me to like with how rude he was in our first introduction. Over time though, tension between us rose, sexual tension. Touches that weren't so accidental, words that seemed to have a deeper meaning, protectiveness that was more than just brotherly love. All of those things combined, how could I not have some sort of feelings for him?

It was so wrong though. I knew that. I wasn't that stupid. My parents would probably kill us if they noticed the way we acted with one another when they weren't around. So, at this party, I decided it was time for me to get over him.

When one particularly cute guy came over to me, attempting to swoon me and get me to go to bed with him, I didn't immediately push him away. In fact, I tried my best to flirt back, though my flirting skills weren't exactly the best due to my lack of experience. He eventually asked me to take this somewhere private and I agreed, although in the back of my mind, I couldn't stop thinking about Sunghoon.

As if Sunghoon could read my mind, just as the guy had taken my hand to lead me away from the party, Sunghoon stepped in and pulled me away from the guy. I looked up at him, completely shocked.

"What the fuck?" The guy said, obviously annoyed that we were being interrupted.

"Get the fuck out of here." Sunghoon sternly said in a threatening tone.

"Hey! We were-" I start to talk but I'm cut off by Sunghoon.

"Shut up. We're going home." Sunghoon harshly told me, his grip on me remaining as he took my arm and pulled me along with him, the people around us giving us looks after witnessing what'd happened.

The car ride home was beyond awkward for me although, at the same time, I felt almost excited as we got closer to home. I wondered what he'd do. It was wrong. I shouldn't be thinking these things about my stepbrother. In fact, how did I know he wasn't just doing this out of sibling protectiveness? Never mind, he definitely wasn't after everything else between us.

Sunghoon pulled into the driveway and shut the car off. "Get out of the car." He firmly said, looking over at me. I didn't say anything as I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car, doing as he said. Sunghoon followed me as I walked inside.

Once the front door had shut behind us and we had taken our shoes off, I was pinned to the wall unexpectedly. Sunghoon stood in front of me as he looked down at me.

"You really know how to drive me crazy." Sunghoon said in a low voice.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, almost playing dumb.

Sunghoon took my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks together not too gently, not too rough. "You know what the fuck I'm talking about. I mean, seriously? A guy like that? Do you have no self-respect?" Sunghoon questioned degradingly.

I stayed silent, what could I really say to that? It was mean, really mean. Despite the tinge of hurt that was caused in me, I could feel my underwear becoming stickier and wetter from my arousal.

"Get your ass in my bedroom." Sunghoon then told me and I knew exactly what was coming.

As soon as I entered his room, Sunghoon walked inside behind me and shut the door, locking it just in case our parents were to come home unexpectedly, though that was unlikely.

I sat down on the end of the bed, watching as he walked over to me. He leaned down and without warning harshly pressed his lips against mine, hungrily. His tongue immediately shoved through my lips, parting them so that he could deepen the kiss. I held onto his firm muscular arms as he leaned down. He slowly pushed me down so that I was lying down, his lips remaining intact with mine as he did so, his arms caging me, his legs spreading my own.

I could feel his crotch press against mine as we continued to kiss, and I couldn't help but rock my hips forward in desperation, moaning out in pleasure at the friction it caused. I'd wanted this for so long, and so had he.

A few moments later, we pulled away from the kiss, the both of us catching our breaths, mostly me. "Get up there." Sunghoon instructed me breathily, motioning towards the head of the bed, near the pillows.

I did as he said, crawling up the bed. Sunghoon walked over and stood at the edge of the bed. I reached for the hem of his shirt, pushing it up a little, letting him know what I wanted without words.

Sunghoon grabbed my hand and pulled it away from him, "Uh-uh, use your words." He said, looking down at me with pure lust and desire.

“Please, Sunghoon.” I whined, needy for him.

“Please what?” Sunghoon asked, wanting to hear me say it.

“Please fuck me.” I quietly said and I could see a small smirk form on his lips.

“Good girl.” Sunghoon said. I then watched as he pulled his shirt off, followed by his pants and boxers. As he got undressed, I took it upon myself to take clothes off as well, leaving myself in just my bra and underwear.

Sunghoon got on the bed, kneeling on the bed in between my spread legs. He then shoved his hands under my back, unclamping my bra and pulling it off, throwing it on the floor. He eyed my boobs as he pulled my underwear off as well, his eyes going straight to my soaked core as soon as he threw my underwear to the side as well.

I watched as he leaned over, opening his nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom, opening the package and sliding the rubber over his shaft, throwing the package on the floor as well.

“Already so wet. Don’t even have to prep you or nothing, huh?” Sunghoon asked and I shook my head, just wanting him in me right now.

Sunghoon just worked, the desperation on my face clear as day. He then took his shaft in his hand and slowly positioned it in front of my core. He then pushed inside of me without warning, causing me to let out a whine of discomfort as he bottomed out.

“Sunghoon..” I whined.

“Shh, you wanted this.” Sunghoon said as he started moving his hips against me, starting with somewhat slow thrusts before speeding up. I could hear the sounds of his grunts and groans by my ear as I let out pathetic sounding moans, though it sounded like music to his ears.

After some time, I could feel myself growing closer to my release and Sunghoon could tell, just by the way my grip on his shoulders tightened and my moans became louder. His hand made its way down to my clit, slowly rubbing it, bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm.

“Cum, baby. Cum.” Sunghoon egged me on and after hearing his words and feeling the continuous thrusts in me and rubs at my clit, I finally let go. Sunghoon continued what he was doing throughout my orgasm, reaching his high as well shortly after.

Once we both calmed down, he pulled out and got off of me, taking his condom off and throwing it in the trash basket in his room.

“You better not tell anyone about this.” Sunghoon said, looking over at me.

I looked over at him, “I won’t. I promise.” I said.

Sunghoon looked into my eyes for a few moments, “And you better not pull that shit you pulled tonight again. You’re mine.”

-- link to my masterlist

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pretty-circa006 · 3 days

Note

I guess your bio clearly states you write for Negan, but it doesn't explicitly state you write only for Negan. So I'm thinking I should just ask. Are you open to writing a dadsbsf!Rick and dadsbsf!Negan x reader fic, they have a rivalry and are always trying to one up eachother to get in the readers good graces, but little do they know you already want them (both) and you get them (both). Ik this isn't something you normally write and it's totally fine with multiple partners. But you're clearly a great writer and I just had to ask. It's totally fine you don't take this request or even ignore it. But if you were to write could do something with an age gap and a minx reader and mean Rick and Negan but only during steamy, but otherwise they sprinkle their lives on you.(Maybe this could be series or something it doesn't have to be oneshot and you could your time exploring the idea, idk why I'm so passionate about this lol)

Thanks, for hearing me out, believe me ik this a tall order. Again it's totally fine if you ignore this!!!

P.s idk why I added the photos I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭(them trying to mark their territory trying to make the other back off of you???)

dadsbsf! Negan x F! Reader x dadsbsf! Rick

summary Negan and Rick are over at your house, joining your dad for a game of poker. tags gambling, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is college aged and Rick and Negan are kinda old...like late 40s early 50s?)

wc 2.3k

note i really liked this request and i hope i interpreted it correctly, if not, i sincerely apologize! just fyi, i plan on making this multiple parts, which is why there's no smut....YET! :P

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

She loves summer. It's more so what comes with it, rather than the season itself. Being back home from college and finally having her own space in her own room and her own bathroom with her own shower. Most of all, she loves the late nights in her backyard, swimming in the pool beneath the bright stars, cicadas buzzing and crickets chirping in the background.

Tonight's one of those nights. The dark, starry, cloudless sky accompanies her she floats on her back around the pool, enjoying the peace of the summer night. All she's missing is a nice midnight snack. The warm, humid nighttime air feels good against her wet skin as she climbs out the pool. She forgot to bring a towel with her when she came out earlier, but that doesn't matter since she's getting right back in anyway. Barefoot, she saunters across the soft grass to the sliding glass door that leads into her house.

"Honey, where's your towel? You're dripping all over the floor," her dad complains as soon as she steps inside. Feeling the freezing air conditioning on her wet body also has her wishing she brought a towel.

"Sorry, I forgot, but I..." She trails off, finally noticing that her dad isn't alone and that he's at the dining room table with his best friends, Rick and Negan, in the middle of a game of poker.

"Hi, Rick...Negan," she awkwardly greets, folding her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked in front of the two.

"I'll be right back, gonna go grab her a towel," her dad explains, excusing himself from the table.

"Late night swim?" Negan teases while shamelessly eyeing the freezing girl's half-naked body. Her face grows hot as she feels his hazel eyes undressing what little clothing she has on.

"Why don' you join us for a game?" Rick suggests with a pat to the seat beside him.

"But I dunno how to play." Despite this, she takes the seat anyway. Rick pulls the chair closer to him until he can't anymore.

"I'ma teach ya how." This earns a scoff from Negan.

"Doll, you don't want this fuckin' prick teachin' ya how to play poker."

"This comin' from the idiot who lost five hundred dollars last time we played," Rick fires back. Negan rolls his eyes and flips him the bird.

She bursts into a fit of giggles at their rivalry. "I think I'll stick with Rick. I don't have much money to lose."

Her dad finally comes back into the room, towel in hand. He tosses it at her and it lands over her head like a ghost costume.

"Hey!" she huffs as she fixes the towel properly around her shoulders. Her father just huffs a laugh at her plight.

"Rick's gonna teach me how to play poker," she tells her dad excitedly. He grimaces which earns a snicker from Negan.

"If ya want any chance at winnin', you'll have your ol' man to teach ya, but hey," he raises his hands in mock surrender before taking his seat.

“I’m stickin' with Rick.” Rick gives her a soft smile and places his large hand on her thigh. Shivers run down her spine, and she’s sure it’s not from the air conditioning.

“You can jus’ watch this game and we’ll deal you into the next.” She nods in agreement and leans over Rick’s shoulder to look at his cards -a three of clubs and a three of spades-, ignoring the water droplets dripping from her hair onto his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind either. She has no idea what’s going on since she joined in mid-game, but by the looks of everyone’s faces…she still can’t tell what’s going. Her father’s face is blank and Negan’s has an air of mischief to it, but then again, it almost always does. Rick looks calm as his eyes move from his cards to the three that lie in the table’s center.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” She whispers in his ear. He leans down to her level and explains to her that the three cards in the middle are the flop and that things are looking good for him. She nods and leans closer to get a better look. The three men all slide more chips into pile. Negan reveals another card next to the three, which Rick informs her is called the turn. They bet again and Negan reveals one last card - the river, Rick tells her- before they all reveal their hands.

“Two pair,” her dad dejectedly reveals.

“Three of a kind,” comes Negan’s reveal.

“Full house,” Rick calls out smugly as he takes the pile of chips

“See, I knew Rick was gonna win!” She cheers, causing the two other men to groan in annoyance. Rick squeezes her thigh, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Negan who’s glaring daggers at the blue eyed man.

“You playin’ this round, hon?” Her dad asks, shuffling the cards. She happily agrees and deals her in.

“Ya sure ya wanna stick with Rick? He was just fuckin’ lucky last round,” Negan bargains.

“Lucky and four hundred dollars richer! I’m stickin’ by him.” Rick flashes Negan the smuggest look ever before wrapping his arm around her, pulling her closer.

“Got my good luck charm right here.”

“See if you get so lucky this time ‘round,” her dad challenges as he deals out two cards to each player. She looks at her cards, still not fully sure on how to play. She slides in a chip alongside everyone else, which Rick explains is the ante. Her dad reveals the flop and she looks from it to her own cards, not knowing what plays she has, if any. She glances over at Rick who’s immersed in his own cards.

“Rick, what do I do?” She whispers.

“C’mere, I’ll help ya out,” he offers with a pat to his lap. She climbs onto his lap from her own chair, leaving her towel behind. Her dad doesn’t bat an eye. Rick is one of his best friends, basically a brother to him, and in turn like family. At least that’s the way he sees it, like a simple loving action between good family friends.

But Rick can hardly focus on either of their cards. Having her on his lap is distracting. Her plush ass sits directly on top of his crotch and he can feel himself getting hard as she shifts around to get comfortable. If she can feel it too, she doesn’t move away or say anything. He rests his chin on her shoulder as he looks at her cards -an eight of diamonds and an eight of hearts- his beard prickling against her soft skin.

“See that eight of spades on the table, you’re close to havin’ a four of a kind,” he whispers.

“Is that good?”

“Very.” Nobody’s looking, so he presses a quick kiss to her shoulder. She stifles a giggle at the ticklish sensation of his beard against her skin. They all bet again and the next card is revealed. She shifts around excitedly once she sees another eight on the table.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” Rick warns, growing harder in his pants. She doesn’t say anything, but Rick can see her shoulders shake with more stifled laughter. Everyone places another bet before the river is revealed and they all show their hands.

“Full house,” Negan says as he reveals his cards.

“Flush,” her dad reveals.

“Two pair,” Rick shows his hand.

“Four of a kind,” she apprehensively says, showing her own hand.

“Maybe she is some kinda goddamn good luck charm,” Negan grunts.

“Did I win?” She asks, noticing the proud but somehow simultaneously disappointed faces around the table.

“You did, sweetheart, good job!” Rick says, hugging her from his position behind her. She gets up and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to his lips before skipping into the kitchen.

“That was fun, but I’ma head back to the pool now.” Negan watches her struggle to reach a snack in one of the cabinets. She jumps a few times, her ass jiggling a bit each time she lands. He stands up and joins her in the kitchen, watching her pathetically try a few more times before standing behind her and effortlessly grabbing the bag of chips. He even opens it before handing them to her.

“T-thanks,” she says turning to face him and taking the bag. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire as she stares up at him. He’s standing so close to her, basically pinning her against the counter. His tongue glides across his bottom lip as he hungrily eyes her up and down, eyes lingering on her tits that her bikini top could hardly contain.

“You’re welcome.” She doesn’t know what to say or even if she should say anything. Her eyes wander down to his strong arms that are folded across his chest, his tattoos on full display. She bites her lip when her eyes graze over the slight bulge in his pants. She can’t tell if he’s hard or just big, but either way she desperately needs to take a dip in the pool to cool the heat building up inside of her.

“I’m gonna go back out now, bye!” She slips away from him and hurries out to the backyard before jumping into the pool.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

She had about thirty minutes alone until she hears the sliding glass door open. Out comes Rick in nothing but his swimming trunks and a beer in hand. He doesn't seem to see her as he makes his way to the hot tub. He gets in, letting out a sigh of relief as he feels the hot water relaxing his muscles. He rests his arms around the ledge and tilts his head back, relaxing and the sight is delicious. She climbs out the pool and carefully steps into the hot water beside Rick.

"Hey darlin'," Rick greets once she's sitting beside him.

"What're you still doin' here? Isn't it past midnight?" she asks.

"Me 'n Negan wanted the hot tub for a bit, but your old man's done for the night."

"Oh. Okay." She's looking at Rick in a way he can't decipher. Her eyes hungrily trail across his body as she scoots closer and suddenly, she's in Rick's lap like before.

"I can still sit here, right?"

"Of course," he reassures, his hands resting on her thighs, fidgeting with the waistband of her bikini bottoms. He rests his chin on her shoulder, just relaxing and enjoying the feeling of her against him.

The sliding glass door opens again, a jarring interruption to their peace. She flinches, scared one of her parents were about to come out and see her and Rick in a compromising position, but Rick, seeing that it's only Negan, holds her tighter. He joins them in the hot tub with a beer in hand and cigar between his lips. In nothing but his swim trunks, his hairy chest and tattoos are on full display, taking all of her attention away from Rick. If looks could kill, Negan would have murdered Rick with his hazel colored death glare. The tension in the hot tub is so thick, it's almost suffocating. Negan being there somehow makes her feel guilty for being so close to Rick, but leaving his lap isn't something she wants to do either.

"Hey, Negan," she says in a weak attempt to relieve the tension and kill the awkward silence.

"Hey doll," he takes a drag from the cigar before blowing out the smoke, "congrats on winnin' your very first poker game."

"Thanks...couldn'ta done it without Rick, really." She subconsciously leans further into Rick and he presses a few scratchy kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck. Negan rolls his eyes at both her and Rick.

"C'mere," he commands with a come hither motion. She swallows nervously, looking from man to man. Rick can feel that she wants to get up so he unravels his arms from her waist so she can, which she does, albeit apprehensively. Even though he didn't tell her to, she sits on Negan's lap, her cunt right atop his growing boner, the only barriers between them being his swim trunks and her bikini bottoms. His beard tickles the side of her face as he leans down to whisper in her ear.

Rick watches the two with an intense gaze, almost as if he was daring Negan to try something with his girl. Negan's arms are around her now as he whispers something in her ear. Rick is sure he's just talking shit but jealousy still twinges in his chest.

"Anything that asshole thinks he can teach ya, I can do it better," Negan whispers. Rick sees her giggling and she turns her head to whisper something back to him.

"Yeah? Then why'd ya lose both games earlier?" she teases. He lets out a laugh which catches Rick's attention. His blue eyes glare daggers at Negan who only spares him a smug glance.

"Didn't wanna embarrass poor Rick over here by beating his ass in front of ya," he says loud enough for Rick to hear. His voice returns to a whisper. "As for the other game...you just got pretty damn lucky."

"Mmhmm sure," she replies sarcastically with an eye roll. She stands up and wades her way to the hot tub's stairs.

"G'nite y'all," she wishes them as she exits the tub.

"Goin' to bed already? Night's just started?" Negan complains, already missing having her on his lap.

"It's almost three in the mornin'," Rick comments looking at his watch. "Night, sweetheart!"

"See you both at the barbecue tomorrow!" She blows them both a kiss before skipping off toward the house. She can feel their gazes boring into her, particularly her ass as she does so.

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