#that isn't already hinted at or implied in the show!

[tofixtheshadows]

This is one of my favorite minor details in Dungeon Meshi, firstly because what in the femme fatale, but also because it's one of those little things that raises so many questions about worldbuilding.

The Occam's Razor defense attorney in me says that Ryoko Kui gave Kabru a boot knife because she wanted him to escape from his bonds here. And Kabru is a very competent swordsman, why wouldn't he have a boot knife, sure. He's already got a dagger, he can have this too.

And yet: the implications. Kabru, why do you have that? That is not remotely something that could be easily accessed or used in combat. Nobody is pulling out a pen knife from the heel of their boot during a fight with a monster. It's useless in the dungeon ... unless you're the type of person who isn't just worried about monsters.

I've mentioned this before, but I consider one of Kabru's functions in the narrative as being the character who fully brings the idea of human ecosystems into the story. There's a reason why he's always connected to large groups of people (Toshiro's party, the Canaries). He (along with Mr. Tansu, briefly) introduces the reader to the social and political forces working on the dungeon, showing us that none of this is happening in a monster-filled vacuum. His confrontation with the corpse retrievers, who very nearly kill Kabru's party permanently with their reckless murder-for-money scheme, reminds us that monsters are not the only things that prey on humans. Kabru understands the ways the dungeon causes people to put profit over human lives.

We only get hints of it in the story, but like any gold-rush-style economic boom, it's implied that there is a lot of crime and corruption surrounding the dungeon.

So yeah, it really makes me wonder why Kabru keeps a tiny knife in his boot, meant to be carried on him even in situations where he would otherwise be unarmed. Stored exactly in the place where it's easy to reach, even if, for some reason, your hands are tied behind your back.

[reiderwriter]

Please Accept My Apology

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.

You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)

You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.

“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”

“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”

You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.

Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.

For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.

“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”

“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.

“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”

You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.

He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.

You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.

He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.

He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.

Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.

“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.

You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.

You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.

You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.

“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.

“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”

He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.

“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”

“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.

“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”

He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.

“No, he doesn't, Agent.”

A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.

“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.

No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.

Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.

“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”

“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”

“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”

You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.

“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”

You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.

It was time to end this conversation.

“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”

He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.

“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”

He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.

Xxx

It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.

With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.

You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.

You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.

“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.

“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.

“I came to talk. May I come inside?”

“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.

You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.

Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.

“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.

You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.

Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.

“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”

Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.

“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”

“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”

His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.

“I was doing my job.”

“You almost got my brother killed.”

“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.

This was how close you needed him.

“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.

He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.

“You're enjoying this.”

“I'm not.”

“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”

His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.

It was more comfortable keeping him close.

“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”

“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.

“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”

��You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”

“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.

“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”

“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”

“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”

“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”

“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.

You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.

“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”

“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.

“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”

You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.

Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.

He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.

“Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”

“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.

“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.

You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.

“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”

His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.

His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.

You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.

“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.

As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.

His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.

His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.

“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.

“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”

His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.

“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.

“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.

“What?” You spat out.

“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”

His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.

“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”

“What about please?”

“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.

“No, shit, wait.-”

You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.

“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.

“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.

You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.

“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”

He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.

You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.

“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”

Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.

The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.

“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”

You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.

His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.

You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.

“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.

“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”

“Jackass.”

“Whore.”

You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.

“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”

You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.

“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”

[angelismmm]

all i see is red. ⟢ with jealous! hsr men

— synopsis. jelly welly hsr men, god, your touchy male 'friend' definitely didn't wanna lay off you, and didn't wanna just be friends, and it's like you didn't mind, hell you didn't even say anything when the guy made you uncomfortable?? why?! seems like you were too nice to say anything, he'll just show who you belong to, and hopefully he'll fuck off.

— a letter from the author. taking advantage of the algorithm especially when it comes to this!! 1.5k notes on the 7mih helpp, this is my revenge post because i got claras card thing, and not her at 90 pity on the standard banner. you will see how much emotion i put into this. i lowkey just put them into to categories; nice and polite while the guy is around, and absolute bodyblock barrier while you hangout with him, or both, giggles

— heads up. smutty at the end of each thing, sextapes (caelus), kidnapping mentioned (dan heng & jing yuan), masturbation (all of them), possessiveness (most of them), creepy guy alert (the guy friend im talking about weeee), killing (blade/sampo), hickeys mentioned (most have), public fucking, just beware sex is everywhere, NOT IMPLIED FEM READER, TY !!!!

DAN HENG

・he never liked your 'friend'. he was almost too touchy with you whenever he got to hangout with you (& him). it seemed like he forgot you even had a boyfriend, a very dedicated one too. and he did not approve of this guy's actions at all. and it didn't help at all that he flirted with you for the fun of it, yeah right. he obviously wanted to get rid of him, and get with you. he isn't easily fooled, and that is so bold, of him to assume he can't see right through his little schemes to take you. too late honestly, because you loved him way more than that guy friend of yours. he's way better anyway. more utc.

・anything that the guy friend of yours offered? thinks there is an ulterior motive to it, and politely declines, makes it more obvious if he continues trying to shove the 'homemade food' that the guy made for him and his s/o. dan heng is not one for a lot of pda, but he's willing to hold your hand, by your waist, kisses on the cheek, hell, he'd go so far to kissing you on the lips and giving a hickey or two just to try telling the guy you already were his. always have been. but he kept trying... it's like an annoying little bug that won't stop 'till he stomps it dead. well, that's quite alright, he's willing to stab the hell out of this guy, gouge his eyes out and skin him alive, makes dan heng more protective and possessive if the guy tries anything that makes you uncomfortable. just really can't take the hint, huh?

・as he starts to do more things that made you uncomfortable but you were too nice to say anything, the angrier glances he gave to the guy while you looked away. trying to get the whole "you're making my s/o uncomfortable. get away." message, and best bet the guy just takes him as jealous that he was reeling his girl in. it really was the polar opposite. whenever he tried asking about the guy at home? you immediately change the topic, it was worse than dan heng thought. do.. you want him.. to perhaps.. get rid of him completely? just say the word, and he will..

nsfw ?!

・i will put most of the guys underneath 2 different sections on what they would do, and dan heng the type of guy to kidnap the creepy touchy flirtacious friend of yours, and fuck you infront of him :)

・might be a bit of a stretch, but thinking about it, he would, right infront of the man who thought he'd fuck your hole better? yeah right. you were made for him, dan heng, no one else, praises you like crazy, saying you're doing well and stuff, like there's no tomorrow, and every now and then glances at the guy, cloth tied around his mouth to keep him quiet, actual metal cuffs around his hands, and feet to keep him from moving, he really wants to show you aren't single, at all, wants to let him know, for the millionth time, you belonged to him, not him, not anyone else, he already marked you infront of him and that wasn't much of a hint? he's dumber than he looks. probably blindfolds you so you don't see the guy, but just keep letting out those pretty little moans of yours so he could get to work, ever since you introduced that sketchy guy to him, and saw his actions, this is a dream come true.

・makes real fucking sure he sees how good your boyfriend, dan heng, makes you feel, so much that the image of you and him will appear in that man's mind if you ever dare to think any bad or if he's a bad boyfriend to you, the slow hours that he'd fuck you in, it will make an impact on the poor man's mind. it was his fault anyway, dan heng gave him soo many chances, all he had to do was back off, he knew dan heng was yours, and you were dan heng's. and he didn't lay off. well, there's a price to pay when you date someone so beautiful as you are, getting to be in you felt better than being given a whole galaxy.

・when he can, he'll probably come back to this moment and jerk off to it, it was one of the first actual times you both got to do anything intimate after getting of jarilo VI. and the xianzhou situation really kept postponing anything between you too, just as so far to instead going on dates during the mission, maybe even quickies in alleyways. really loved the image of you being blindfolded, and moaning like a bitch in heat for his cock, nothing gave him more pleasure. maybe except you.

CAELUS

・poor baby, trying his best to not let the guy do anything more to make you more uncomfortable. the first few pickup lines and slight touchiness was.. bearable. but when he started getting too close for comfort, like almost kissing you at times, and that the guy claims it to be 'accidents'? tripping on nothing doesn't count as an accident, and he was right beside you, why didn't he go tumbling down with you? doesn't matter anymore, he's making you uncomfortable, so whenever you were too nice to decline the guy's offer, he'd come along and act as a barrier between you two. he doesn't want anymore accidents like that to happen, does he? no worries, caelus to the rescue!

・still never trusted him enough to take anything the guy offered, he would take it, but throw it away into the trash, where he and it belong. he tries to be emotionally understanding to the guy, but he just keeps hitting on you, how is he supposed to just sit there watching his s/o become uncomfortable, will body block any advance the man will attempt to do. he loves you like the sun, and he can't just let the sunshine in his life go.

・always, and i mean always advised you to just cut him off, but you felt like it was too rude. but it was so rude of him to continuosly flirt with you infront of your boyfriend. and you really couldn't say anything to not be 'impolite'. he was mad definitely, but not, never more mad at the guy, caelus would give an immensely huge amount of clues and hints to the guy that you're taken, he literally goes with you to your hangouts with the guy, is that not enough? what a blind guy, like how blind you were to realize he liked you. it's okay though, nothing a little video can help him realize that you're taken.

nsfw ?!

・will film you guys fucking. now i know i said i'd split the categories here into two, and i know not all the guys would do this, but think about it, that's all im saying. anyways, will film you both making love, capturing every little pretty moan you let out, and how well you take his cock in you, placing hickeys on you while praise spills off his lips, whispering just how good you feel, seems like the vanilla kind of guy, but i promise you he isn't always vanilla, like this kind of moment, will go rough. and really harsh with it. during these kind of days too, he will leave marks and hickeys on you, gets pleasure from it honestly.

・sends a picture and a small clip to the guy with a smiley face and captioned "never fucking speak to them again. they're mine, not yours, not anyone else's. :)"

・doesn't do this often, but again when he can: will stroke himself to the same image he sent <3 you just looked too pretty for him to not get erect by looking at the picture! he's sorry really, he just loves you so much.. probably fucked you infront of a mirror, just so you could see how much of a mess you were for him, just for him~

SAMPO

・at first, thinks it's funny, no one is as charismatic as him than himself. he thinks it's funny that guy can take you away from him, yeah right, not in a million years. when the guy starts to become obnoxiously flirty and touchy with you, that's when he starts to become protective, before that, he just thought it was funny. but he's actually trying to.. get with his amazing s/o when you clearly have the most perfect partner to be with you, no matter how much he decided to mark up your neck, and made sure the man saw him placing another, and he still kept trying to hit on you, not like you'd fall for someone like that guy, he makes you uncomfortable and is overly touchy. and to be frank, sampo is not that bad of a boyfriend, when you get closer to each other, is a big big sweetheart. literal angel tbh<3

・did take what the guy made, like food or etc, and poured it all into the trash while the man was looking. and mouthed words "stay away from my spouse :D". will always and from whenever the guy starts to go over the line, sampo will start holding you close, and is oddly more erotic than usual. will whisper in your ear how horny he is, but aside that, the guy seems like the thirdwheel in this situation, and that is not what he wanted at all, he didn't want it to be like that at all, and sampo sensed that a long time ago, as soon as the guy tries to lean in to close, sampo will go in for a kiss between the both of you.

・at some point kind of was scared you'd leave him for someone else, but your reassurance will always keep him relieved and safe to know that the person he loves the most and admires will always stay with him, forever, and now.

nsfw ?!

・probably will either kidnap the guy and fuck you infront of him, or will kill the guy and fuck you anyway. depends on his mood. hard & rough sex with him, because he's jealous, it's obvious enough, not just jealous, he's mad you just stood there and didn't tell the guy to fuck off. it's alright now though, he probably gets off to your frightened expression as he fucks your hole, seems like that kind of guy. his back just painted with all your scratches, putting you into a mating press does something to him idk. can't help but tell you your dazed expression from his cock was adorable!

・even after sex he'd probably would will eat/blow the hell outta your pussy/dick, sorry not sorry. kind of guy to fuck you in random alleyway somewhere in belobog, and makes sure the guy friend sees you guys at some point.

・likes to come back to that moment while you and him are fucking, just knowing that guy saw you both relentlessly so in the moment with each other in a public place, and no, just staying silent is not a choice with him, there's a reason why you just let the guy trip over nothing and trip on you as a result, there's an answer to why you did that. he knows it, and he'll fuck the answer out of you if he needs to.

WELT YANG

・already protective of you, and the guy just made him even more protective (+ possessive).. unlike before that welt really just followed you around without really having to do much that gave signs you were together, matching rings, possibly matching jackets/cardigans, literally holding hands, and the guy asks "is he your brother?" just gives him a really plain look, like what the fuck you guys didn't even look that much alike each other. before you could say anything though he'll kiss you on the lips, and it's a really long kiss to just rub it in.

・will intentionally bump into you when you receive stuff like food from the creepy guy, like will spill it on the floor, like fully calculated solution too, oh no the guy's gift suddenly fell on the floor and the 5 second rule isn't real oh nooo just seems like we cant do anything about it.. that's okay, welt just happens to have your favorite snack prepared for you right in his pocket (he wants to be better than the guy in every way possible). will one-up the guy on everything just to make sure he proves that he's better for you, that's his little red flag, just if he's jealous.

・scared if you're ever more impressed by the creep than him, scared of replacement probably, more scared if you even are comfortable with the touchiness that the guy does near you, kind of guy to actually sit between you two because he knows the guy will try something. holds your hand constantly, even if the guy makes him uncomfortable and anxious himself, he doesn't want you to feel the same.

nsfw ?!

・just the type of man to block him everywhere on your end, and fuck you pretty vanilla just to get his mind off it. just wants time with you by himself, and that stupid guy friend of yours just had to interrupt. but all he could is think about how good you feel around him. how well you take him is all and everything on his mind, the tight warmth around his cock is one of the only things that could distract him from anything.

・kind of hesitant at first about blocking the guy, but he knows you're uncomfortable with it, and to make you feel better, he wants to give you the most pleasurable night possible, maybe not the most, that can wait for your wedding night <3

・just really wants to take your mind off that creep, and let you focus on how good his cock is making you feel, those little mewls of yours is proof that his plan is going well! just wants to see your hole overwhelmed with his cum, loves it so much honestly, and has a lowkey breeding kink so be ready to bear his children (real not fake)

・lowkey been dreaming of this moment, he's jerked off to it before, just railing the hell out of you while he's just so calm about it, your dazed, blurry vision, could only see welt's face, the only thing registering in your mind, was his relentless pace, throbbing dick so easily sliding in and out from the cum from all the other rounds, doesn't seem like he'll stop 'till you can't walk at all <3

JING YUAN

・no mercy at all, will side eye the guy all the damn time. wym you gonna give my s/o a gift... fuck off bro... unimaginably and overtly possessive, you are HIS. and why are YOU hanging out with other guys. you are supposed to only be his to talk to smh (he means it as a joke but is jealous you even talk to anyone else.) does not hesitate to make out in front of the guy and mark you all over your neck or what. because you're his, and it's only right he marks what's his before someone tries to take you. blatantly ignores the guy when he tries to talk to him, someone who's trying to take you from him wants to talk to him? yikes... yeah right, no.

・will personally pull him into a private place and tell him to lay off, that he makes you uncomfortable, and that you aren't up for new relationships, because if he really hasn't seen yet, you are his, why and how does this creep that you met 2 days ago will ever one-up someone as great as he is. and he knows you'd pick him over the guy friend any day of the week. intentionally kisses you and while you aren't looking he will glance and smirk at the guy because he knows he just saw you and him kissing, tongue contact and everything.

・why does this guy even keep trying? quite the stubborn brat, he'll just have to show him who you belong to, and he'll die with the secret <3

nsfw ?!

・kind of guy to kidnap the male friend and fuck the shit outta of you infront of him. such a meanie, thrusting so harshly out and inside you again and again, the belly bulge as clear as daylight, and will shove fingers down your throat if you end up being too loud, his little room all the way at the bottom of his home isn't sound proof you know.. but the servants know he fucks you almost every night there anyway, kind of forgets the guy is there and goes down on you like there's no tomorrow.

・makes sure to torture the guy a bit more before he decides or either killing him off or just knocking him out and carrying the man back into the wild, phone in his hand, with a message from you saying "never text or come near my s/o ever again, i hope you had fun watching us last night. <3"

・where did he put the guy exactly? err... totally not onto another planet.... totally.

BLADE

・i would be lying if i said he didn't already place hickeys on your neck, lowkey a kind of high sex drive honestly. and who allowed you to have other friends that are outside of the stellaron hunters, whatever he doesn't wanna seem like the manipulative boyfriend type, he'll let this one slide, for now.

・hates him from the very second he meets the guy. you shouldn't even be friends with such a creep. plus he seems like he just wants to sleep with you then steal all your belongings. and that's when he won't let it slide anymore. no, why the hell would he take a 'gift' from a sketchy looking guy you met 2 days ago?? you already are a gift so he considers it useless, and the guy useless, so desperate for his spouse..

・will grab you by your hair/collar and fuck you there instead, and the guy can't help but overhear your sweet little moans, all bubbling up at once, and he can't help but just indulge himself into what a mess he made you. just like to hold you face up to his while he thrusts so thoroughly wrecking your insides, just as he kisses the tip of your nose and releases into you, gets you dressed up and walks out the alleyway like nothing happened.

nsfw ?!

・as if the 'sfw' section of this wasnt already nsfw LMFOA, anyways, like i said he'll fuck you even while you and the guy are hanging out, just to show who you really belong to, no one else can manhandle you like this, not in a million years. your hole was made for only him anyway.

・doesn't really care about the guy seeing you both or not, and id you are uncomfortable around him he'll be dead by morning and he'll give you a good fucking as an apology for not realizing it sooner, wants to be a better boyfriend fluffy wise, but your fucked up little expression when his cock finally shoots his warm cum into you is much more adorable, he wouldn't trade it for the world <3!

taglist: @edit-me-prettyplease @sucrosia

[sports-on-sundays]

Okay so 🤭 what if Y/N use to be with ( whatever Barca player you choose ) and they broke it off because they supposedly wanted to focus on their career and the reader was really heartbroken and omg to make it more better y/n is Carlos sister and then she sees or hear how they moved on already! And little by little she starts to be with lando and they announce their relationship when he wins in Miami!! Like full on hard launch. 😭🙌🏽

Also this got me motivated to think of more ideas ima write them down for the future 🤭

papaya girl / LN4

Summary: ex!Ferran x Sainz!baker!reader x Lando - After a devastating breakup with your footballing boyfriend, you think you'll never be able to date someone again.

Warnings: there's a golf scene and I don't golf so-!🤞, mention of sickness, foul language, sorry if some things are not accurate, headache, partying/dancing/drunkenness/clubbing, mention of getting so drunk you had no memory of what happened, implied getting drunk to dampen emotions, getting injured, vomiting, slight soulmate feel, a bit of suggestive talk, use of babe/baby/bae/baby girl/etc., I feel like every kiss I describe is exactly the same sooo- sorry about that! ✌

Requested?: YES! 😘

Author's Note: Do you ever write something so good that you wish you could make it into a movie? That's how I feel about this. I can imagine the scenes. Didn't plan it but I guess 24 is the magic number for this one. I made the request more dramatic because... I like doing that... 👉 👈 🥺 ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. PERFECT MIX OF ANGST AND FLUFF. I LITERALLY LOVE YOU! If you do have any more ideas and you're up for it, let me know!

When you met Ferran Torres, you were a Madridista with a passion for Ferrari. Being a Sainz, you've always been rooting for Real Madrid, but your favorite Formula 1 team isn't as consistent. Because before that, you were a McLaren fan. And before that, Red Bull. And everything else before that, too.

Wherever Carlos is, you're a fan of it.

You, quite literally, on the day you met Ferran, were wearing a Cristiano Ronaldo jersey and a backwards Ferrari cap.

And, well, he, a new arrival from Manchester City, liked that, apparently!

And it was beautiful. They way you slowly became closer and closer, growing to know each other more and more.

And then, maybe you just hit a point. Hit a point in your relationship where you wanted more, and Ferran realized that if any more was given by him, it would be too far for him.

And he cut it off. Said he was doing well in Barcelona. He had high hopes. You, a sold out Madrid fan, had been wearing his number on the back of a blaugrana jersey. And despite that blaugrana jersey, he ditched you.

He said his work, his career, his passions, his dreams, were more important than you.

But you can't complain, Y/n. That's fair. He was gentle in letting you know. He made it clear he didn't want any malice between you and him.

You roll over in bed, staring vacantly at your wall. There's a large Real Madrid flag hanging in the middle. A smaller Ferrari flag on one side. A few posters of bands and teams you like or events you've been to, signed by different celebrities. People who are more famous than 'Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister' or 'Ferran Torres's ex-girlfriend.' On one side, it seems silly to have a poster signed by Max Verstappen, but you do. On the other side of the flag, you have a peeling old McLaren poster, showing the younger versions of Carlos and his former racing partner, Lando Norris, looking just seconds away from breaking into a loud, hysterical laughter.

And next to that, you have a Barcelona poster.

You smile sadly to yourself.

I must look like such a conflicted sports fan.

You stand up, walking over to the wall. After gently peeling the Barcelona poster off the wall, you slowly trace the badge with your fingers, any hint of a smile now gone as tears begin to fill your eyes, threatening to fall.

"This is stupid," you murmur scornfully, your voice cracking softly. "This isn't even my team! It's not my city...!" You toss the poster across the room, leaving it in a place where you don't intend to pick it up anytime soon.

Let it gather dust and crumple. That's what Ferran did. He threw away our relationship like it was nothing but a worthless piece of paper. And now I'm suffering the consequences.

You sigh. You're trying not to let yourself be bitter. You want to look back on everything you and Ferran had and be happy. Appreciate it. You still love Ferran. You don't want to be angry with him.

Someone said to you once, Hurt heals with time, as long as you let it.

You grab a bold, red Sharpie from your drawer and your notebook from a dresser. You scribble those words in all caps, rip out the page, grab some tape, and hang the piece of paper where the FC Barcelona poster used to be.

You sigh, but nod, before turning to get ready for your day.

You hate winter. You never hated winter before this winter, but now you hate it.

With the breakup, you've been avoiding anything La Liga like the plague, even if it doesn't involve Ferran Torres. It just reminds you too much.

And with Carlos on winter break, getting ready for the start of the season, he's not around much. Going on different trips, he's quite busy. Which you don't like. You and your brother have a strong bond.

It's not like you don't have anything to do. You just don't have anything interesting to do. You have a shop that you run, but you have enough staff hired to not have to be there all the time.

Yes, in a family of racing, you were never too into it. Your strong spot is in baking and business running, so that's why you opened up a bakery in Madrid.

And being a Sainz, of course it was a success.

Same type of thing as Charles Leclerc's 'LEC,' except you're not the racing driver Charles Leclerc, you're not doing ice cream, and you've always been doing this, for five years now.

You watch as a young, excited couple walks in, jabbering away in English. You can just tell they're tourists as they get in line to order. Once they get to the counter, the woman immediately leans over the counter in excitement, saying, "Is Carlos Sainz here?" in English.

You chuckle. Sounds American. "Which Carlos Sainz?" you tease.

They look blankly at you as if you're just about the dumbest individual to walk planet Earth. You chuckle and say, "Why don't you get to ordering? There's a line."

Towards the afternoon, as things begin to quiet down just a little bit, you look up at the doorbell jingles and freeze.

When he reaches the counter, you snap at Ferran, "Why are you in Madrid?"

"Am I not allowed to be? Either way, hello to you, too."

You sigh, licking your lips as you study the Valencian boy. "What can I get for you?"

He shrugs and orders, before seating himself down at one of the seats at the counter. "How have you been, Y/n?" he asks.

"Fine," you swallow, staring down. "And you?"

"I'm good." From there, he begins just talking, as if we're old friends or something, and not exes.

He seems so happy. So content.

To not be with you.

Suddenly, mid-way through one of his many sentences, you slip your hand over his, almost on impulse. He stops, staring to your hands, and then to you.

You breathe softly, "Why? Why did you come here to just talk to me? Aren't you moved on? Ferran, this is torture for me."

Lines crease into his face. You can see him swallow, looking at your smaller hand on his. "I'm... I'm sorry. I am moved on. I'm doing well. I just thought maybe we could be friends. I'd never want to date you again; I'm not in the place to date anyone. I'm happy single. But I just feel bad. I know you're hurt, and... I'd be happy to still be friends with you, is all?" He slips his hand out from underneath yours and takes his cup of coffee with it, taking a sip as he watches you intently.

You drag a hand over your face. Though you didn't want to admit it, seeing him come in to the bakery gave you hope. That maybe he wanted to try again. But those words that came out of his mouth? They cut deep.

"Listen, Ferran," you barely whisper. "I'm still trying to work through what happened. Everything. It's hard for me. But I appreciate it, and when I'm ready, if I'm ever ready, I'd love to be your friend. O- Okay?"

He nods slowly, staring down. "Alright... Fair enough."

"What's wrong?" your older brother, Carlos, asks. You watch outside the window as the world travels by.

You sigh. "Ferran."

"Him, again?"

"Carlos," you sigh. "Stop. It's nothing new. I'm just missing him. He wants to stay friends, but I said I needed time."

"Ah. Well, you know, I did tell you never to date-"

"-a Barcelona player. I know," you roll your eyes with a little smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Hurt heals with time, as-"

"-long as you let it. I know," you comment, smiling a bit wider.

"Exactly. It'll come."

You sigh. "I hope so."

As Carlos pulls into the parking lot, you say, "So. Is that why you decided to take me golfing with your friends? Just wanted to check up on me, but you never have the time to sit down over dinner these days?"

Carlos smiles as he shuts off the car. "No. I could have made time. But I wanted your company golfing."

"You know I'm not big on g-"

"Shut up," he grins. "Yes you are."

"I suck."

"Not as bad as some people I know. In fact, you're actually pretty okay."

Soon, you meet up with a bunch of Carlos's friends. They're all chatting, and you're just kind of zoning off, looking out over the grassy hills, when suddenly you look up when Carlos says, "Ay! Lando!"

You blink in complete and utter shock. "Why is Lando Norris here?"

As Lando approaches, he eyes you, saying teasingly, "Well, thank you for the warm welcome, Y/n Sainz."

"Lando was just around, so he made the drive to meet us here," Carlos quickly fills in.

Soon, you're all off. After a round, as you're walking back to the cart to go get lunch, Carlos says, nudging Lando, "I think my baby sister is better than you."

Lando laughs. "You fucking muppet; what are you talking about?"

You grin, falling in step with Lando and Carlos. "I'm a better golfer."

"That is just wrong," Lando says, glancing at you. "Downright wrong."

"It's a Sainz thing," Carlos puts in. "There's no way for you to beat us, Lando. You can't. Winning runs in the family."

Lando rolls his eyes, reiterating, "Your baby sister is not better than me."

"You have no right to call me a baby," you put in indignantly. "I'm probably older than you."

Lando looks at you, his nose all scrunched up. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Hah! Same age."

"That still doesn't mean you get to call me a baby!"

"Her birthday is in January; different year than Lando's. Lando, you can call her a baby; you're older," Carlos says.

"Carlos!" you snap. "Don't give him permission!"

Carlos grins and shakes his head as he breaks off to chat with some of his other friends and get on the cart with them.

Lando grins, giving a discreet pat on your lower back as he murmurs, "Sorry, baby."

And for some reason, that makes you feel things. You decide to blame it on the fact that Lando's just good-looking.

Once you're all seated down with your lunch, you comment, "So what's with the whole..." your hand goes to your chin, referring to his facial hair, as you look at Lando expectantly.

Lando slams down his fork, saying lightheartedly, "Sick of people asking me that!"

You smirk. "Makes you look like you're forty."

"Whatever, baby."

"You know, I have a picture on my wall of you and Carlos when you were just babies, too."

As soon as Lando raises an eyebrow with a smirk, you know it was a mistake to word it that way. "You have a picture of me and Carlos on your wall?" he asks, mock condescendingly.

"No, no. I mean, I do, but- It's just an old McLaren poster." You immediately look down.

"What, are you a fan of mine?" Lando teases further.

"No! I'm a fan of Carlos, and you just so happened to be his teammate at that time. The point is that you two look like pipsqueaks in that photo! Lando, you looked so awkward, with all your acne-"

"What, Lando, you think she's a McLaren fan? She's sold out for Ferrari," Carlos interrupts.

"Literally! I deck myself out in red every Sunday!"

"Today's Sunday," Lando starts like the stupid idiot he is, "And I don't see you wearing red."

You groan, leaning back, covering your face in your hands. "Carlos, how are you this guy's friend? He's so annoying! Why'd you invite him for? How do you put up with him?"

Carlos just smirks, patting your shoulder, and says, "I'm used to having to put up with irritable people, after having to grow up with you."

You roll your eyes, fighting off a smile as all the guys around you at the table laugh out loud.

On the car ride back, you're mostly silent, your thoughts swimming with one thing and one thing only.

Lando Norris.

And there's a soft smile on your face as you think about your morning with him.

But Carlos can tell you're deep in thought. Usually, you'd be yapping away right now. "Anything on your mind?" he asks carefully.

You sigh. "Not much."

"You're bad at lying. You're staring out the window dreamily. What's on your mind?"

You sigh. "It's stupid. You'll make fun of me."

"I'm not stupid, though. I can already guess what it is."

You gulp. "How?"

"For the whole day, the only person you talked to was Lando."

You feel your stomach drop. "It's nothing serious, Carlos. He's just funny."

"You said something like that to me about Ferran Torres right before you officially started dating."

That makes you feel a bit sick. "Carlos, I won't let that happen again."

"Don't. And don't be getting interested in anyone until you're over your ex. And we both know you're not. And please don't be getting interested in someone like Lando."

"Why?" You eyebrows scrunch together. "I thought you two were buddies."

Carlos grins teasingly. "If you somehow got yourself with him, there would always be two annoying people in one place."

"You're intolerable!" you snap, laughing.

"You are too, hermana."

It strikes Carlos as strange when the first thing Lando says to him the weekend of Bahrain, before even a hello, is: "Is your sister here?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Lando shrugs. "She's nice."

"No... She'll be coming to Australia, though..." Carlos can't help but feel suspicion fill his chest. He's always been somewhat protective of you, being his little sister and all.

"Perfect," Lando grins, and he's off.

In Australia, like any other race, you're decked out in your red. Ferrari hat, Ferrari jacket, red jeans. Ferrari earrings. Even your black shoes have a stripe of red on the sides.

Carlos always tells you it's dumb. But it's become a part of your whole thing, since you spend a huge amount of your life following Carlos around and going to Grand Prixs.

It's fun sometimes, being Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister!

But when you see a shock of papaya in your red world called Ferrari's hospitality, you squint, slipping your sunglasses up on your hat, and say, "Who said you could walk in like that uninvited?"

"No one," Lando grins, "but I'm only here to see you."

Your eyebrows raise as you stand up. "Wha-"

"Come with me. I'm going to barf if I have to breathe Ferrari air any longer. Just your terrible get-up is making me nauseous. I guess I'll be free from seeing that stupid outfit next year when Carlos isn't in Ferrari-"

"Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, but follow him with a grin on your face.

"So you broke up with your Barcelona man?" Lando start, cutting straight to the chase.

"Uh-" you swallow. "He broke up with me."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You're not sure why Lando wants to know, and he certainly doesn't have any reason to know, but still you say, "We had been dating for a while, you know? I wanted something more. You know, to go deeper. Someday, I'd love to even maybe get married. But, Ferran... well, he didn't want to go the step deeper. Said he wanted to focus on his career. He broke it off. We're on fine terms, though."

"Ah..." he nods slowly. "That sounds like a tough breakup."

"Yeah... Yeah, it was."

He continues nodding, and catches your eye before saying, "So I'm assuming you want to... you know, you won't be up for any more relationships any time soon? Lot to work through?"

You suddenly feel your face begin to heat up. "Uh, well- depends on who it is, I suppose," you blurt without thinking.

"Hm?" He raises an eyebrow. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Well, considering the fact that your face is just about as red as that Ferrari hat on your head, I'm wondering what you think of me."

You swallow, feeling even more embarrassed. "Are you suggesting...?"

"If you're up for it, the night after the Grand Prix, you can meet me at my hotel room, and we'll go from there. Text me if you decide 'yes,' for the details."

"I don't have your numb-"

He gives a cute little smile and opens his hand to reveal a folded up piece of paper. "Now you do. See you later, Miss Sainz!"

You stand, dumbfounded, as he jogs off.

"Oh my God, Carlos! Well done! So well done! Oh my God!" you scream in the midst of your strings of excited swear words, in both Spanish and English. "Did you actually just win the Australian Grand Prix?!"

He grins as he kisses your cheek, patting your back and saying, "Yes, I actually just did."

You hug your older brother tight, resting your head on his shoulder. "Love you. You did amazing. After everything you've been through. You're going to be leaving Ferrari next season and with your surgery and everything and-"

He smiles a bit. "Want to let me go now? Can't squeeze me too tight, remember?"

"So you can drive a race car and win the race, but you're too fragile for me to hug you!" you laugh, but release him from the hug.

He laughs out loud. "Yes, pretty much."

Hours later, you stand in the lit, mostly empty hallway, knocking on the white-painted door. You've change out of your Ferrari red head-to-toe fit, and are now wearing a black t-shirt with the F1 logo in red on the left side, black sweatpants, and your hair held back by a headband.

Lando probably isn't here, you think as you wait. I look so stupid. He doesn't care as much as he acts like he does. He's probably out partying or something. He got a podium. Carlos won. There's no way he's just sitting around in his hotel room-

You look up in surprise as the door clicks and swings open to reveal Lando Norris standing before you.

You beam and say a bit too loud, "Lando!"

He laughs. "Hey..." He's dressed in a white button down, dark blue jeans, and his regular assortment of jewelry. "Want to come in for a bit?"

You nod. "Were you... just out?" you ask slowly.

He chuckles again, plopping down on the sofa. "If I were just out, I wouldn't be looking this neat."

"Oh... Oh?"

"Come on. Sit down next to me," he encourages with a wave of his hand. "Something funny- I've had my eyes on you for a while now."

You look up in somewhat shock. "That's why you're so confident about this?"

"That, and that I'm just the peak of all confidence," he jokes, clearly mocking cockiness.

You roll your eyes.

"But really. I've been flirting with you for a while."

This time your eyes widen. "No way."

"Just little. I knew you were dating that Torres-"

"How?"

He smiles. "Doesn't take much to find out. Anyway, I think you just blocked it out because you were dating someone else. Shows you're a loyal girl."

"Hm..." you nod slowly. "I... I suppose...?"

Suddenly, he takes your hand in his. "So, you like me?"

"I think I have for a while. Like you said- I blocked it out because I was dating someone else." You didn't even know that until now, hearing the words coming from your mouth.

He smirks. "Even better. So..."

"Yeah?" you ask, a little glimmer in your eyes.

"I'd like to know what the hell you're wearing."

Suddenly, your face falls. "Uh- I'm sorry- I- I thought we- Um-"

Lando laughs. "Y/n! I'm teasing!"

"O- Oh!" you laugh nervously.

"I was just thinking... Maybe you'd want to go out and celebrate with me?"

"Oh-" you nod. "Right."

"So, do you want to get changed? I'll text you where we'll meet in a half hour?"

You grin, standing up. "Sounds good."

"See you then."

"Holy fuck, man," are Lando's first words when he sees you. You're wearing sunglasses, a form-fitting sequin shirt, and flattering white jeans.

"What?" you ask anxiously. "Is it too much?"

"Too much? Y/n, you're gorgeous."

You sigh in relief. "Alright good... And- one thing."

"Hm?" Lando asks, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know if we... could we say we're... that you're my..."

"Partner? Boyfriend?"

You swallow. "Sure. I think... I think I'm good with that. At least for tonight."

He nods.

"But let's not make it clear here. I don't want the way for everyone to find out about this being, you know, by nightclub pictures on the internet."

He smirks a bit, nodding. "Fair enough, then. Let's go."

"Rise and shine! Let's hit the grind, Y/n!" an unfamiliar voice wakes you up.

You roll over to see Lando's handsome face looking down at you. You're in his hotel room, in the one bed. He's all dressed and ready to go, and towering over you, looking like a giddy dog.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. "I've got a killer headache. What happened last night." You feel disgusting, and wrinkle your nose as you get a whiff of the alcohol scent radiating off of you.

He grins. "I learned that you have no tolerance whatsoever."

You frown. "Unlike you, Norris, I'm not getting drunk all the time! Now, tell me what really happened!"

"Nothing much. Just a lot of fun," he sits down next to you, "and it's a shame that you can't remember any of it." He chuckles a bit, saying, "You got fucking wild. You were more fun though before you got absolutely drunk out of your wits."

"You didn't do anyth-"

"No, no!" he rolls his eyes. "Besides, Carlos was there. I wouldn't dare. You at least remember Carlos, right, being there?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, of course I do."

"But you really did completely black out? You don't remember anything?"

You swallow nervously. "No... I don't really remember anything... I mean, I guess..." You close your eyes, thinking hard. "Just dancing... music was super loud, but... that's not anything specific. I don't feel well at all now, though..." You start to feel a bit dizzy at the energy you're putting into trying to remember.

You open your eyes and look at Lando.

He smiles. "Well, it was fun, nothing more. Want me to bring you back to your hotel now?"

"Yeah, I guess..." you nod, cradling your head in your hands. "That'd be great..." You see the wine stain on your jeans. You can feel an ache in your ankle. You just need to clean yourself up.

Lando helps you limp to the car, assuring you that you just tripped. Saying your ankle is fine; it'll feel better in a few days' time.

You're not so sure.

As Lando drives, he knows he should tell you the details, like Carlos said.

But it still feels like you'd be better off not knowing at all.

Nine hours before

Though every single one of Lando's molecules in his body told him not to, he had to keep pushing you off. He sat talking away with some other dudes, and you sat his side, drunkenly trying to wrap your arms around him.

You blubbered softly about all kinds of stuff, a strange mixture of being utterly devastated and overly romantic.

Lando knew. You didn't get drunk this often.

A part of him felt bad. A huge part of him. He didn't think he had pressured you into anything. Certainly not intentionally. And you were the one who kept drinking more. But maybe he did...

Maybe it was his fault you were the mess you were now.

"Lando..." you murmured, your hand gripping his bicep. You leaned closer. "You're so sexy in that shirt." You reached over to unbutton another button of his shirt.

He gently pushed you away for the millionth time. "Remember, Y/n? You don't want anyone to know you're into me this much," he whispered lowly to you, running a hand through his hair. "Remember that, baby."

You pouted. "Ferran broke up with me and made me sad. Can't you make me happy now."

"Not now. I won't be doing anything when you're this drunk."

"I'm not that drunk..."

Lando snorted. "Whatever you say, lovely."

All was going as fine as it could be going. But then Carlos showed up. "Hey, Y/n-" he had started.

But you had interrupted him by slapping your hand on Lando's shoulder, leaning into it, and giggling giddily, "Look at this pretty boy."

Immediately, Carlos's eyes flashed with shock. And then vague panic. And then anger.

"Lando, how drunk did you get her?!" he snapped, raising his voice even more than he already was. The flashing lights on the Spanish man's face helped Lando's anxiety no more.

"I didn't get her drunk at all! I tried to stop h-"

"Yeah, fucking right. Come with me Lando-"

"No!" you had snapped, standing up to grab Lando's sleeve before your older brother could drag him away.

You were clearly biting back tears. "Lan didn't do anything..." You stumbled drunkenly into the British man, who steadied you gently, before helping you sit down again.

Carlos's face remained hard and steadied on Lando, but he spoke no words, as if he was battling in his head what to do.

Lando sighed. "Listen, Carlos. She won't remember any of this tomorrow morning. Let's just not bring this up again, yeah? It was a mistake. Stuff happens. She got wild and had one too many. We've all had those nights."

But Lando genuinely didn't think Carlos had had one of those nights before.

Lando certainly had, though.

"She deserves to know."

"Maybe she shouldn't, though. She's gone through a lot with her ex breaking up with her and everything. And I'm sure your career up in the air isn't helping her cause much, either. She loves you more than the world. And think about how worrying it was for her to see you go into surgery like that, and race right afterwards? The good emotions just hit her, man. But it's probably a lot. She's just going through a lot. She doesn't need the guilt of getting too drunk and acting a little stupid, yeah?" Lando ranted, intently studying the older Spaniard's eyes.

Carlos's eyes slowly softened. "Alright... I won't tell her what's happening once she's sober. Only if I can make a deal with you."

Lando bit his lip, running a hand through his messed up hair. "What is it?"

"I won't say a word to her, as long as you promise to stay away from my sister. I know you're interested in her."

Lando's eyebrows creased together. "What does that men? Why?"

"Quit trying to get with my sister, and then it's a done deal."

Lando let out a shaky breath, slowly nodding. "Alright, then. Whatever. It's a done deal."

Of course Lando didn't intend on following through with his end of the deal.

But when Lando turned around to check on you on the couch, he froze when he saw you were gone. "Where'd Y/n go?" he immediately asked the other guys and girls sitting around.

"The hot Spanish girl?" one guy asked in a painfully slow Australian accent.

"Yes, her!" Lando demanded, his buzzed brain filling with irrational panic and overwhelming confusion.

He lazily gestured and responded, "Went to go dance, I reckon."

And before Carlos or anyone else could react any faster, Lando tore into the crowd, shoving people aside and squeezing through gaps that weren't there, in search of you.

She's drunk out of her mind! What the hell was she thinking!

That's right. She wasn't thinking.

And then, he spotted you, just for a moment. Moving your hips, stumbling about, thinking you were just about the sexiest thing in the room.

"Move out of my fucking way," was Lando's polite way of shoving two guys out of the way.

He could see the sweat glistening on your face. He could see the dumb smile on your face, your high giggles. He could see fresh wine spilled on your white jeans. He could see hands on you; he took no energy to see who they connected to as rage filled his entire being.

And he watched, almost in slow motion, as your ankle rolled on your black stiletto, and you stumbled to the floor with a brain rattling, painful cry.

Immediately, Lando shoved his way to your side, slipping his hands under your body. "My God, Y/n!" he nearly screamed over the music. "You idiot! You beautiful, fucking stupid, idiot! Tell me why I fell in love with you! You're going to be the death of me!"

"Hi Lando," you murmured through tears. "My ankle..."

"Yeah, yeah, I see. Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

You swallowed, nodding as Lando tucked your hair behind your ear. He lifted you to your feet and let you lean on him as he helped you limp out of the club.

"I'm sorry, Lando..." you had muttered hoarsely.

"Hey, don't worry," Lando had responded. "Never apologize for having nothing but a good time."

But he, Lando Norris, disagreed with the words coming out of his mouth. That was his motto, his excuse, all the time. But as soon as soon as he saw you, someone he genuinely really loved, really cared about, living like that?

It made him sick to his stomach.

Speaking of that, as soon as you were outside, you stumbled away from Lando. He steadied you with one hand and held your hair back with the other as you doubled over and vomited, your previously red face impossibly pale.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah..." you gasped after about a minute.

"Alright. Okay. Let's get to my hotel room now."

Lando could barely understand your slurred words as you responded, "As long as we're getting away from here."

Now

You were going to go to the Japanese Grand Prix. But you just wanted to stay home. With a sprained ankle that confines you to crutches and an illness you've picked up, there was no way you were going to fly across the world for a Grand Prix, especially with the potential jet lag.

You lay on your couch and text Lando. You've been thinking, and you let him know that though you really do want to go places with him, you want to go slower.

You still don't know what happened on that night in Melbourne. For some reason, you can't get anything of significance out of Carlos or Lando. But you know more than what they're saying must have happened that night.

You asked Charles, because he was there. He provided a bit more information, but not much. He said he wasn't really hanging around you that night, but that he did see you cuddling with Lando.

When you asked Lando about it, he said you were drunk, it was just you not thinking, and it only happened once. That you stopped after he pushed you off.

And social media shows no one caught it on camera, or anything that night, for that matter.

So at least there's no fans going crazy over anything.

Lando texts you back, saying that he thinks it's best to go slow. Just let yourselves ease into whatever your relationship is going to be.

It's a relief to see he agrees with you on that.

But then he sends another text, asking you to try to keep it a secret. Even from your family, including Carlos.

You ask why, and he responds saying he simply agrees it's good to be private, and he doesn't want Carlos judging.

Though you're not sure about it, since Carlos is not only your favorite (only) brother, but also your best friend, you still tentatively agree to it.

Lando probably has a good reason.

Right?

By the time the Chinese Grand Prix comes around, though your foot is still in a walking boot, you're over your illness, and decide you're going to go for it and make the trip halfway across the world. After all, you've never been to China!

It's true that your walking boot doesn't look the best with your shades, shining silver jewelry, and overalls, but oh well. The most annoying part is literally everyone who even half knows your name (the Sainz part) keeps asking you what the hell happened to your ankle.

And you have literally no response but, "I fell," because you have no more of an idea than them, and there's no way you're about to say, 'Hah I just got drunk with Lando and got so fucking crazy that I twisted my ankle and sprained it! Anyway!'

Yeah, no way.

So "I fell," is the best option you have.

But the most concerning thing to you is that you haven't even seen Lando yet, all weekend. Though you haven't seen each other in a while, you've been calling, texting, and face timing often, your relationship growing a lot.

You chew your lip as you limp towards the McLaren garage. You peek in, scanning for Lando, but only see Oscar.

You limp to him.

"Whoa- What happened to your-"

"I fell," you say, thoroughly exasperated with this. "Anyway, is Lando around?"

"Lando? Uhhh..." he looks around.

Dude, hurry up. I'm not supposed to be here, your thoughts practically scream.

But then he walks in himself, and you grin, waving, "Lando!" you call.

He walks over to you, smiling. "Aw. Look at my little injured girlfr- uh, uhm, mate. My injured mate." He glances nervously at Oscar.

But the Australian just smiles, "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

Lando nods gratefully, before leading you to a more private place. "Hey," he says softly once you're alone, his hands resting on your waist. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright... Ankle's getting better, slowly but surely."

"Oh, good," he almost looks relieved. "That's so good to hear. I'm so glad you made the big trip to be here, Y/n."

You smile softly. "I was starting to miss you."

He grins. "I was missing you, too, baby... I think I could make some time for you this weekend, too. We could just get take out, hang out at my hotel room, you know. No more partying, even if I win, right?" he teases gently, gesturing to your foot.

You snort. "Yeah. Yeah, no more partying for now for me."

Later that night, you lay next to Lando in his hotel room. His arms are wrapped around you, his hand rubbing your back. "Look at me," he murmurs sleepily.

You look up to see his soft eyes looking at you, with so much, tenderness, so much...

love.

You feel a flutter in your stomach. "Lando, how did we get here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Two months ago, I would lie awake in bed, dreaming about and missing Ferran. I was so lonely. Now here I am. Two months, and I'm laying here, in your arms."

He grins a bit. "I bet it's because we're meant for each other."

"That's cliché."

"No, it's not. I really mean it. You know, I had a crush on you even back when Carlos was in McLaren, you were around a lot more, in papaya."

"No, you didn't-"

"Yes, I did!" he laughs softly. "I really did. The day I saw you in the paddock. The day Carlos pointed you out as his sister. The day you flipped your hair and looked at me with those warm brown eyes. And then looked away from me, because in my first season in McLaren, I was the farthest thing from attractive."

You giggle at this. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not! That was the day that I knew- I knew- that someday, I was going to make you mine," he murmurs, his eye half-lidded as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

"Lando!" you squeak, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "Don't you dare make me cry for no reason!" You wait a minute, before saying softly, "Well, maybe, just maybe, back then, though you were a pipsqueak, you were kind of cute... And I've always gotten butterflies from your jokes and teasing, even all those years ago, before I was even dating Ferran."

He laughs. "Awww... So you've always had a little bit of a crush on me, too!" You can see by his blushing cheeks and beaming eyes that just this fact is making him feel warm inside.

You roll your eyes, giggling. "I guess, maybe...."

He flicks your nose gently, playfully, holding you even closer. You lay there in more silence, before Lando says softer, even more tenderly, "Hey, Y/n... can I talk to you about something...?"

"Of course, Lando..." Your eyebrows knit together.

You watch as he swallows. Nods. Sighs. "Okay... Something has been bugging me..." He pauses. "I... I feel like I never should have brought you out that night in Australia... you know? Like, beyond the sprained ankle."

Your eyes flash. "What do you mean?"

"Well... You just got so drunk, and... I feel so bad... Like, somehow, it's my fault... I didn't mean for you to get hurt, or to drink that much... I just thought we'd have fun. Like I always do with my friends. And you're my girlfriend; supposed to be my closest friend..."

"Lando," you murmur shakily. "Did you try to get me that drunk? You didn't encourage it, did you?"

He looks nervous. "I genuinely don't think so, but I'm nervous I did... I tried to tell you enough was enough, but maybe I should have looked out for you more... Maybe I should have worked better at keeping you from getting that drunk... But we were having so much fun and I figured you would know your limit... I shouldn't have assumed."

"Lando! Don't blame yourself! It was my fault. I got too drunk, I fell and sprained my ankle. The sentiment of you wanting to look out for me is nice, but when push comes to shove, I'm in charge of myself, just like you're in charge of yourself, and it was my fault. My mistake. M'kay, Lando...?"

He nods slowly, still looking a bit unsure. "Well, Carlos isn't mad at you about it. He's mad at me..."

"Carlos is what?!"

"Ah, fuck. Forget I ever-"

"Lando Norris, explain."

"Whoa, that's sexy," he laughs.

"What?!" you exclaim in exasperation, yet you're still unable to keep your stomach fluttering by Lando's sudden spoken intrusive thought.

He grins, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know. Full name, in such a firm voice? Like, yes, mommy, order me around. I'll do whatever you want me to," he says in a low, goofy, teasing voice.

You can't stop your face from heating up. "Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, your voice cracking awkwardly as you flick him in the nose this time. And you flick his stupid nose harder than he flicked yours earlier.

He giggles evilly, rolling over. "Look at yourself! You liked that! You're a blushing mess!"

"No, I didn't. What a stupid way to flirt."

"Oh, well, I can show you even more stupid ways to flirt. Because, apparently, it doesn't quicken your heart rate at all."

You groan. "You are so annoying."

He leans over, giving you a peck on your lips. "I know. And you know you love me for it."

You forget to ask him again about Carlos.

"Baby, c'mere," Lando says, nodding for you to join him in his driver's room.

"Dude, watch what you call me when there's listening ears around."

Lando shrugs. "It's only Oscar in the other room."

"So? What makes you trust Oscar so much, anyway?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. He's a good guy. And he's not gossipy, like me."

You laugh. "You are, are you?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm a fucking gossip girl."

You laugh out loud at this as Lando shuts the door of his driver's room behind you.

Lando grins. "Anyways, Oscar is trustworthy because he's not the type of guy to have any desire not to keep a secret."

You frown, crossing your arms. "Alright. Whatever. Anyways, why'd you bring me in here?"

Lando shrugs, sitting down on the one chair in the room. "Sit down, babe."

You blink. "Where? On the fricking floor?"

"Uh, no," Lando rolls his eyes jokingly, as if this is the most obvious thing. "On my fricking lap, Y/n. Come on now. Duh."

You can't help but find yourself blush at that as you slip onto his lap. He wraps his hands around your waist, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You smile, leaning into him as you ask softly, "So why'd you bring me in here? Just for kicks?"

He grins. "I need my Y/n fix before the race. You know, it'll make me drive better."

"Oh? Is that how it works?" Suddenly, though, before Lando can respond, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You slip it out and sigh. "It's Carlos, asking me where I am. I feel like I'm under surveillance."

Lando blows a raspberry before saying, "Just ignore it, bae. You're a twenty-four year old woman; Carlos needs to get over it."

"Get over what?" you ask, an eyebrow raised.

"You not being his baby sister anymore. You're my baby now," he murmurs into your shoulder, pulling you closer to himself.

You laugh. "I still can't decide whether you're the worst flirt I've ever met or the smoothest. But right now, I'm thinking the worst."

"Oh, well!" he says, looking up at you with innocent eyes, batting his lashes. "Doesn't matter to me, because either way, you like it! Anyway, back to before Carlitos had to interrupt-"

You giggle as he begins kissing your face and say, "Carlitos? I'm not even allowed to call him that without him going psycho man on me-"

"Mmm... Can you talk less? It's cuter when you do that giggle thing," Lando murmurs between kisses.

This causes you to laugh out loud. "Sometimes, Lando, I think you're so weird." You realize, in a strange way, though, Lando is right. Because of the giddy feeling of literally having your boyfriend shower you with kisses and love, you're just kind of trying to find anything to talk about.

But maybe you should just take one moment to shut up.

You lean into the kisses, exhaling slowly. Contently, despite your pounding heart and sweating neck.

Finally, you feel as though your face is absolutely, completely covered in Lando's kisses. You sigh, contented, as Lando kisses the tip of your nose, and then pecks your lips.

You giggle, opening your eyes to gaze into his.

But his eyes flutter shut as he leans in, his hand slipping to the nape of your neck. And his lips meet yours again, this time in a real kiss. You shut your eyes, enjoying those lips on your own, sending tingles throughout your whole body, causing your breath to grow heavier and heavier. Desire pulses in every beat of your heart, causing the passion in the kiss to build and build. Your right hand falls into his chest as the other knits itself in his curly locks. You feel Lando's hand on your hip as his fingers snake under to grip your ass gently. You can feel his hot breath on you, in you, apart of you, as his other hand gently stroking your neck, giving you little twitches of longing for more. Your tongues find an art of lingering exploration, Lando's hunger seeming to never be satisfied as his tongue and lips tease your nerves, the emotional and physical connections between you seeming stronger than ever. His hand slides down your neck to your back, pulling you closer to him, so your chests are pressed into one another.

Suddenly, though, there's a pounding on the door of Lando's driver's room. Your eye cracks open. Lando's squeeze tighter shut, his eyebrows creasing together, as if he wishes so much that this never has to end.

Lando grunts, finally pulling away. Oscar's voice on the other side of the door saying Lando's name seems to be in another, insignificant world. You're both gasping as you study each other's eyes in a certain awe.

A soft, mischievous smirk appears on Lando's lips. Those lips that now you can't stop staring at. "Was your first kiss with Torres that hot?"

You let out a breathy laugh. "Definitely not."

There's a pause, of just softly smiling, gazing into each other's eyes, before Lando breathes, his eyes half-lidded, "My fucking God," He gently, slowly strokes your warm, pink cheek. "Did I ever tell you how head over heels I am for you?"

Before you can respond, Oscar's voice says again from outside, "Lando, if you don't respond, soon, I'm coming in."

Lando groans again, leaning his head back, "You can't! The door's locked!" He then adds under his breath, "Fucking Osc, interrupting as soon as I was going to take it to the next step."

At this, you blush even deeper. "You were-"

Lando waves his hand dismissively. "I would have checked with you first."

You nod, breathing deeply.

"Alright, baby," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. "Let's go see what the hell Oscar wants."

When the door swings open, Oscar can't help but chuckle how how much, in that moment, you two look like some snarky super villian duo, about to give him some cheesy monologue. You both stand, arms crossed, practically back to back. Lando wears a scornful grin and you display a glare as hard as stone. Even your clothes- Lando's racing clothes and your head-to-toe Ferrari red, finish off the silly look.

"What's so funny?" you demand upon seeing the Australian's laughter.

"Nothing, nothing. But I hope you guys know: These walls are not soundproof."

"What are you suggesting?" Lando snaps. "You couldn't have possibly heard anything, you idiot!"

"Whoa, whoa! I didn't! I'm just saying!" Oscar says, going on the defensive, putting both hands up. "Me and my girlfriend don't lock ourselves in my driver's room before the race, losing track of time and forcing you to go get us!"

"You and your girlfriend are probably going to buy a house with a white picket fence and have 2.5 children and a golden lab! Oscar and Lily is bad enough, but I'm surprised it's not John and Emily!"

"Whoa," Lando says, laughing as you walk out of the driver's room together and he shuts the door. "Shots fired. Calm down, Y/n; jeez."

But Oscar's laughing, too, so you know there's no need to apologize.

"Lan... You know I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I won't go out, right?" you say nervously as you walk into his hotel room, rolling your suitcase from your own hotel room.

"Yeah, I know you weren't. I wasn't kidding, either."

"So... What?" you ask, sitting down on the edge of his bed, crossing your arms. "You're planning on going alone? Then why did you bring me to your hotel room-"

"Y/n," he suddenly says, leaning down to gently grab your chin and look you directly in your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm staying right here."

Your jaw actually drops. "I'm sorry, but who are you and what have you done with Lando Norris? Because that man would never miss an opportunity to party."

This makes Lando let go of you and break into a fit of laughter. "Y/n!" he breathes. "What the hell are you talking about? Before that, I would never miss an opportunity to spend time with you."

You stare. "Okay, actually. I'm being serious now. What did you do with Lando?"

You watch as your boyfriend chuckles, sitting down next to you. "Baby. I'm not going to go out clubbing while you sit in a hotel room alone. And there's no way I'm taking you out again; my guilty conscience can't take that, and neither can your sprained ankle. So why not celebrate P2 here, just you and I, hm?" he says in a low tone.

Immediately, at this suggestion, you blush. "Oh, uh, Lando... I, uh... I don't know if I'm ready for something... you know... for that... right now... Not yet... You know, it's too early for me in our relationsh-"

Lando suddenly breaks into laughter again. Oh, that sweet, silly sound. "Y/n! My God, what a dirty mind you have! I wasn't thinking that at all-!"

"You, Lando Norris, are saying I have a dirty mind?! I bet you really are his doppelganger!"

He crosses his arms. "Only reason why I wouldn't suggest that is because I know you're not ready. Which is more than one hundred percent fine with me. I wasn't even thinking about that, anyway."

"What were you thinking, then?"

He smiles with his eyes. "Well, let's both get ready for bed," he begins pulling his shirt off over his head as you absolutely bear your eyes into him, "And once we're both ready, I'll meet you back... here...?" His confused face slowly turns to one of teasing nature when he sees your eyes trained intently on his bare chest. His perfectly toned abs. His perfectly shaped pecs. His strong, straight, tan back. The little brown beauty marks sprinkled all over his torso. You would love to kiss every single one of them. "Why don't you take a picture?" he smirks stupidly. "That way, it'll last longer."

"Oh, shut up," you murmur, licking your lips as you tear your eyes away from his bare middle. "You can shower first," you murmur.

Once you're both all clean and ready, you snuggle up under the blankets, only to find your arm brushing against Lando's bare skin.

You feel your heart flutter as you murmur, "Are you not wearing a shirt just to bother me?"

"What, no," Lando says, overly innocently. "I never wear a shirt to bed. Just like I'm sure you never wear a bra...?"

If you were embarrassed before, now it's ten times worse. You specifically decided to wear a bra, to avoid... that. And now here Lando is, bringing it up like it's the weather.

"Uh..." you begin.

"Anyway!" Lando says, apparently seeing the vaguely panicked look in your eyes. "Wanna just watch a show or something?"

"Yeah," you nod. "That sounds good."

Lando turns some stupid show on his laptop, and as you snuggle and it gets later, you become more relaxed. You lean your head on Lando's shoulder as he plays with strands of your smooth, wet, dark hair. Your hands begin softly feeling his chest, just drawing circles and feeling the shapes of his abs.

Everyday, you seem to get to know Lando more and more- inside and out.

He sighs, contented, and murmurs sleepily, "That feels nice."

You smile, nuzzling into him.

"I saw Barcelona and Madrid played today," he comments as your fingers continue stroking the abs under Lando's soft skin.

"Yeah... El Clásico..."

"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would. I thought you were big on Madrid."

"Yeah, I am... Just having been keeping up with La Liga lately, I guess."

"Hm... Well, would you like it if I could find some way to watch the game...?"

You smile softly. "Hm. Yeah, maybe that wouldn't be so bad..."

Lando nods, and soon, you're cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching your favorite team play against FC Barcelona/your ex's team.

It feels weird, but you like it.

You decide your bra isn't very comfy and slip it off under your shirt before tossing it across the room.

"You're finally over being embarrassed with me?" Lando teases.

You smile softly, shutting your eyes. "At least for now. Too sleepy to care."

He smiles back. "You're cute when you're sleepy. Cuter."

Soon, though, Lando is gently shaking you, murmuring, "Look. Your ex was subbed on."

"Hmmm? What about Fer?" you murmur with a yawn. You must have dozed off for a bit.

"Fer?" Lando asks, his nose scrunching up. "Yeah, Ferran Torres."

Your eyes flutter open to see your ex-boyfriend running onto the pitch. You feel a sudden, unexpected pang in your chest. When you and Ferran were still together, you watched him do that so many time, with a sense of pride and excitement.

But now, you don't feel much at all. It's no different from anyone else going out there to play.

But, like a train, memories of the past begin to hit you.

Going for walks with him. Cheering him on at finals. Hanging out with his teammates. Working out with him. Bringing him to the Barcelona Grand Prix. Exchanging gifts on birthdays and holidays.

Just all the little things you used to do.

Like snuggling with each other on late nights after Barcelona won.

Not unlike what you and Lando are doing right now.

Suddenly Lando's arm around you tightens, and he says, "You okay?"

"I- yeah..."

Lando leans forward to see you face. You try to turn it away. Lando doesn't let you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

"You're crying," he states softly.

"I guess..." you trail off, averting your eyes.

There's a few beats of silence before Lando states again, "You still miss him."

"I guess..." you repeat. "But... I'm happy to be with you... it just all happened so quick... It's a lot for me... I'm mostly over it- over him- by now, but sometimes things just... make me start to think. Reminsce of what's not anymore."

Lando slowly nods, and begins rubbing your shoulder. "I- Alright..."

"But don't worry. I'm way more happy to be with you right now than sad to not be with Ferran any longer."

"You're sure?" the Brit asks tentatively.

You nod, leaning into him once more. "I'm sure. One hundred and one percent."

"Hey, Lando," you grin giddily before the Miami Grand Prix. "Just drive your best out there, okay? Good luck, baby." You give him a high-five. You can sense he wants to give you a hug, but painfully knows he can't because of the ever-watching cameras and eyes all around you.

But he leans in close, until you can practically feel his breath on your face, and says softly, in just about the most heart-wrenching-in-a-good-way low voice, "Oh, baby... I'm going to go out there and win that race. For you."

"Oh, stop being such a romantic. You're going to make me cry."

He leans in, about to kiss your cheek, but you gently push him off, saying, "You better get going, Lan! Race is going to start soon!"

"Right! Bye bye, bab-"

"BYE!" you scream to overpower his stupid 'baby girl.'

And before you can even blink twice, it seems-

It's lights out....

And away we go!

"LANDO! FUCKIN'! NORRIS!" you scream as soon as you see him, running to him as fast as you can. Your eyes threaten to fill over their brims with tears as you leap into Lando's arms, immediately forgetting about hiding your relationship.

Right now, that just seems too silly to care about. It doesn't matter enough.

Your boyfriend is a race winner.

The racer winner!

He leans back with the most joyful, most romantic, most adrenaline filled, most glorious look in his eyes as they search yours. His hand slowly strokes your cheeks as he purrs, "I told you I would win it for you, didn't I?"

"Lando-" you begin in excitement, but are interrupted by Lando's lips on yours, aggressively, passionately leaning into yours, flooding all his emotions into you, sharing his dream coming true with you.

For some reason, you begin to cry. Flows of tears, flooding down your cheeks as you kiss each other, and your heart pounds at a million kilometres an hour. His hands grip your waist tight, and the moment-

It all seems so perfect.

Right now, you don't care about the fact it was supposed to be secret. You don't care about what Carlos will think or say or do, or what fans on social media will post. None of it matters.

In this moment, the only two people that matter are you and Lando, in a symphony of amorousness, standing on the top of the world.

In this moment, you and Lando, both in sync, know this is the right time. Though it's been merely three months of being in a real, serious relationship, it feels like several lifetimes.

You don't care about the shock of other people, or the cameras flashing and clicking and filming.

All the sudden, you're proud of it.

You want everyone to know, no matter how they'll react, that you're Lando's, and Lando is yours.

When you finally break away from each other, Lando's smile remains as he gazes into your eyes.

"Are you crying too?" you giggle softly as you spot a glint in his eyes.

"What? Me, crying? No, I'm not crying! Of course I'm not crying!" he says teasingly, hastily wiping at his eye with his thumb. "You're the one crying! But anyway-" He slips the papaya McLaren cap off his head and plops it on yours, saying, "Won't be needing this for the top step. Besides," he smirks, leaning in closer. "Enough with all this Ferrari stuff. I think it's finally time for you to admit: Papaya looks best on you. Papaya's your color."

As you watch him jog off after that, stunned, you feel pleased.

Finally, for once, content.

That's right. My color isn't white, or blaugrana. It's not Ferrari's red, either.

I'm a papaya girl.

His papaya girl.

[pollyanna-nana]

Louie isn’t evil.

Or: what Pikmin 4 tells us about his character.

BIG WARNING FOR PIKMIN 4 SPOILERS! (and the rest of the series)

———

I want to preface this by saying that I am in no way trying to be the end-all, be-all of character interpretations, but Pikmin 4 to me, at least, confirms the suspicions I’ve had since playing Pikmin 2 and 3 all those years ago that Louie ISN’T secretly evil, or possessed, or whatever else. He’s just… Louie. And I think that’s interesting in and of itself.

1. Olimar himself vouches for him, and clearly doesn’t think he’s a bad person.

Say what you will, but I’m inclined to think Olimar is a decent judge of character. Clearly he’s worked with Louie for enough time to see that while he’s not very good at his job, he’s not intentionally so— at least not in a malevolent way (will get more into this later). He also wants you to forgive him for Olimar’s sake, which can be read as self-sacrificing (as Olimar is known to be) but I also think hints at the soft spot he has for Louie.

It's also worth noting that he states during a end-of-day conversation that he told Louie that, since he's a new employee, he should do everything Olimar does... including throw castaways into the onion. Interesting that Louie took this so literally, but it does provide an explanation for why he kidnapped the Koppaites beyond "he's evil and crazy".

2. He really, REALLY loves his grandma.

Like, wow. He talks about her SO MUCH both in his Piklopedia entries and also elsewhere in the game. It's interesting. Worth noting is that he never mentions any other family members- unlike Olimar, who talks about his wife and each of his children independently. I've said this before, but the content of a lot of these entries implies to me that Louie was mainly raised by his grandma, likely since birth. And given some of her emails in Pikmin 2, assuming they're also canon to Pikmin 4's timeline... Well, Louie certainly had an interesting upbringing. But he clearly loves her all the same.

3. He has a mischievous streak and tends to do things on impulse.

This was already fairly obvious from the previous games, but I think it's worth noting that this game confirms that he's... would immature be the right word? In any regard, he doesn't seem to see himself as a "grown-up"- when in all likelihood he is. Personally, as a 22-year-old, I find that pretty relatable as I often think of myself as younger when in reality I am by all definitions an adult. This, along with his grandma still being around, makes it pretty much certain that Louie is a lot younger than Olimar and the president, likely in his early to mid twenties. Being a bit of a goofball isn't really out of the ordinary, all things considered.

THAT BEING SAID, he's clearly capable of practicing self-restraint when he wants to. What he says here about the red Pikmin is pretty significant, since we know he's willing to eat just about anything- but clearly he has some reservations about creatures that are friendly and helpful. Which leads to...

4. He loves dogs and fluffy things.

Same. But he doesn't even consider eating Moss, Oatchi or the Ancient Sirehound, showing that his creature-eating habits stop at things he recognizes as useful. He clearly also holds affection for things that are soft and fuzzy, and says as much.

5. He is so autism.

He plays with fidget toys. He loves certain textures and sounds. This guy is stimming all over PNF-404!!! I think this also lends some explanation for why his behavior is what it is- things like taking Olimar's suggestion to do as he does super literally even after crashing on an alien planet, his hyperfixation on cooking and tendency not to communicate and incorrectly interpret situations (thinking the Koppaites are kidnappers in 3, running away from you in 4). He could even be low or no empathy as well, explaining why it takes a hot minute to get him to understand why people are upset with him about something.

Interestingly this game also makes it clear that Louie wants to live on the planet, or at least thought he did while you were chasing him down, which makes a lot of sense when you consider that he doesn't really seem to fit in back on Hocotate. I, too, wish to run away to an alien world with all of the things that I like and no other people, so I get you, Louie.

6. He hates his boss and his job, and the golden pikpik carrot incident was likely premeditated.

This probably looks bad, but honestly? As a fellow work-hating anti-capitalist schmuck I get it. The president is for all intents and purposes a huge asshole, from sending Olimar straight back to the planet after selling his ship to not caring that Louie got left behind, just wanting to find the rest of the treasures. I doubt he is very kind to his employees, and doesn't seem very good at running the business. Definitely a funny character, but if he were my boss I would absolutely want to punt him into the sun.

From some other entries he clearly wants to sell certain things to accrue money, but it's for things like getting better kitchen tools and following his dream to have his own cooking show. Clearly being a freight driver isn't what Louie actually wants to do with his life, and he could not give less of a shit about what happens to the company. Very short-sighted on his part, but also again, yeah I get you Louie.

7. He... doesn't like the color red for some reason.

Honestly, I'm not even really sure what to make of this. Is it because it reminds him of the Hocotate ship? Or does he just not like the color? Would be very interesting considering that it's Olimar's signature color. Perhaps that's at least part of why he attacks you in Pikmin 2- though that's speculation for another day.

Also funny to me is his comments on the black-colored treasures. We know blue is his favorite color, but I guess he's also a bit of a goth at heart. Lol.

In conclusion.

I think Louie isn't written or intended to be evil, and Pikmin 4's portrayal of him was intentionally written to confirm this. He's just, as some have said, an agent of chaos, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just an autistic 20-something working a shitty job he doesn't care about, who loves his grandma and has a mischievous streak and a hyperfixation on food. At least from what I can interpret, ymmv!

[mt-oe]

You're definitely my top fav Mizu writer I love all your fanfics 😭😭😭‼️‼️‼️

Could you do one of Mizu and reader already being a married couple, but Mizu still is deeply in love with reader despite the years, could be smut or not I just want Mizu to be super affectionate wodkendkend

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for requesting and saying something so sweet <3 I really try my best to do well in writing and compliments like these make me so weak ///

I haven't done a fanfic about Mizu in their current time period for a long time so I'll try to do it now.

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, wound cleaning, injuries, both feminine and masculine pronouns for mizu, implied afab reader

Your eyebrow twitched in irritation, hands hidden inside your kimono as you balled them into fists. 'No, no. Let's stay polite. Let's stay polite,' you thought to yourself, keeping a small faux smile. "Are you sure we can't get this for less?" you asked the straight-faced vendor who looked just as irritated at your constant haggling.

The middle-aged man in front of you grunted in annoyance, in his hand was a bundle of herbs you needed to make an antiseptic paste for Mizu. "No, 5 ryo and that's final," he replied, raising an eyebrow.

Holy shit. 5 ryo for a bundle of herbs that was already wilting? What a scam. You could buy a travel pass for that already!

"Please sir. My husband really needs it now. How about 2?" you asked, giving him the best doe eyes you could without letting your irritation show. "And what do I care about your husband? The best I can do is 4," he replied in a snarky manner.

"2?"

"5."

"2 and some mushrooms?"

"I said 4 is the best I can do."

"Oh c'mon please! 3?"

"No."

"3 and some mushrooms?"

"I don't care about your stupid mushrooms!" the man snapped, lifting himself off of his seat to loom over you. "4 ryo. That's it. If you can't pay, then get the hell out!" His hand raised the bundle of herbs, seemingly about to smack you with it until a firm bandaged hand gripped his wrists almost painfully.

Looking up to curse at the offender, the vendor suddenly reeled back upon seeing your husband's orange-tinted glasses. "And who the hell are you?" the vendor asked, trying to sound intimidating.

Mizu's blue eyes narrowed at him behind her glasses, scanning his figure before letting the vendor's wrist go. She opened her mouth to respond but was immediately cut off by the feeling of your body pressing against her arm. "Mizu? Aren't you injured?" you asked in pretend innocence, glancing back at the vendor whose eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and nervousness.

Your husband grunted slightly and nodded. "You were taking a long time," she replied before looking at the vendor. A bit of slyness mixed with the polite smile you've been keeping up for the past hour. "I was about to go back but.." You looked at the vendor who was now glaring at both of you, eyes squinting as your smile widened mischievously. "This man was about to hit me all because I asked if he could sell those herbs for 3 ryo."

Upon hearing your words, her eyebrows immediately knitted together. Her hands gently pushed you behind her, approaching the vendor with a terrifyingly thick aura of anger. She glanced at the bundle of herbs in the vendors hand, tongue clicking. "These herbs look like they might as well be feed for the pigs and you threaten my wife over them?" she scowled, glare hardening. Her hand reached towards her sword, using her thumb to push the katana slightly out of its scabbard.

The vendor glared at the ronin in front of him, thinking carefully before conceding. "Fine I'll hand it over for 3. Just leave before you scare the other customers away," he grumbled, tossing the bundle over to you haphazardly. Mizu was about to have another talk with him but you decided to pull her away, grinning at the vendor.

"Thank you sir. My husband and I will surely come back," you said with a mischievous hint in your voice. "Isn't that right, love?" Your head turned towards your husband who was still looking over at the vendor menacingly. "Sure."

With that, the two of you left. A soft yet cheerful hum emanated from your throat as the two of you walked out of the busy marketplace and back to the old run down inn the two of you checked in.

Sure, it was old. The floorboards would creek with every step and the decorative textiles looked dull and worn down. The futons they provided were very flattened out from years of use and washing. But the two of you were fine with it, a cheap inn was better than having an injured person out in the wild.

Upon arriving, you immediately set down the herbs on a nearby stove, getting a flint to light it up. A satisfied hum left your lips as the sparks from the stones finally ignited a fire, fanning it out to increase the flames. The cute little sound made your wife chuckle softly as she untied her scarf and obi.

It was during times like these where Mizu was truly able to be at peace, savor her time with you. The two of you met years ago, when she had finally returned to Japan, now on a new path to try and reconnect with herself. The self she hated so much. You were the apprentice of an apothecary owner, skilled in foraging and identifying herbs. Although you could not call yourself a physician, the title only belonging to men of that time, you were greatly skilled in treating wounds and injuries.

She entered your master's apothecary in search for a treatment after accidentally making contact with a poisonous plant while she was training. The rash traveled up her arm, blisters forming, making it unbearably itchy and painful for days until she could no longer bear it. However, upon entering the shop, you were the only person there, sweeping the floors as you hummed a cheerful tune. You looked up at her, hands pausing as your eyes observed her.

A soft smile graced your lips and the moment she heard your sweet laughter—shit, she knew she was smitten. It was like time stopped for her. Despite the place being lined up with various medicines and trinkets, all she could see was you. The slight flush of your cheeks from the cold, the way your eyelashes fluttered, the slight dilation of your pupils as you stared at her (more like her rash but ok), and the curve of your pretty lips. Maybe the god of affection decided that she was capable of admiring someone again.

"Poison ivy," you chimed, pulling her out of her trance. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion then suddenly raising one up as you approached her. You lifted her arm up gently, inspecting the rashes and blisters before setting it down. "You must've been from the mountains."

She watched as you looked over the shelves, hands on your hips. A small 'aha!' left your lips as you picked a jar from the shelf. "Here." You placed the jar on the table and gesturing her to come over. "My master is away, and I don't know how much these cost, so I'll give you a discount. Okay?"

You were so beautiful she probably ended up paying more than how much the medicine actually costed.

A soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched you grind the herbs and some sort of boiled concoction into a paste using your mortar and pestle. She loves the way your eyebrows scrunched together in focus, the way you licked your lips subconsciously, and the little huffs of breath you let every time you brought your pestle down onto the herbs in the mortar.

"Here," you mumbled, setting the mortar down next to her. Carefully, you helped Mizu out of her haori, eyes inspecting the expanse of the injury.

It was nothing serious. Just some abrasions she obtained from an accident while training in the morning. Her foot slipped, sending her sliding down the hill. However, the moment you saw her blood trail, the scream you let out was so loud it woke the birds up. Probably woke the whole world up while at it.

Another chuckle slipped out of Mizu's throat at the memory. It was another thing she loves about you. You're always so concerned about her, even more than she was to her own body. 'Mizu! Holy shit! Your skin is peeling!' she remembered you shout at her, looking like you were about to cry.

God, you're so cute.

"What's so funny, love?" you asked, tilting your head at her. Warm water ran down her wounds as you cleaned them. Mizu shook her head, eyes fluttering shut, lips curling up. "Nothing," she replied.

Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around you, making you whine. "W-Wait! Your scabs will reopen if you keep moving, dummy!" you whined, trying your best to continue washing her wounds. She hummed in content, resting her forehead against your womb. "Just remembering my wife."

You rolled your eyes at her, washing your hands on the basin before drying it. "I'm your wife," you huffed at her. She once again hummed, agreeing with you. "My wife," she mumbled against the cloth of your kimono, pressing your womb closer to her.

A small huff came from you as you picked up the mortar from the side, scooping out the paste with your fingers. "Yeah, me." Mizu nodded, the feeling of her head moving made you giggle. Gently, you applied the medicine onto her wounds, even to those that scabbed over, giving her a blissful feeling. The cold paste on her stinging wounds felt calming. A slight menthol after-effect adding to the relief. You could feel her pressing herself closer to you, her cheek now resting over your womb.

"My wife," she repeated absentmindedly

"What is it love?"

"My wife."

"You're being silly."

Her blue eyes looked up at you with a content eye smile, admiring how hard you were working on her wounds. "And you're beautiful," she sighed out. A chuckle made it past your lips, your head shaking in amusement. "Oh please, time already passed me by. I don't look as young as I used to," you replied with a fond smile.

You could see her eyebrows knitting together in disagreement through your kimono. "As if," she huffed, almost in a growl. "You're still as beautiful as the day I met you. Maybe even more." Her hands gripped your forearms firmly but with a sense of caring. She gently pulled you down, medicinal paste smudging across her shoulder as you tried to balance yourself. Before you could protest, rough, calloused, yet gentle hands cupped your face, tracing every line and every spot.

The words in your mouth died at how fondly she was staring at you. Her eyes were filled with love and affection, heavily contrasting the intimidating stare she usually had. Your big bad husband was just a pile of goo, melting and gushing at your beauty.

"I'm starting to have wrinkles over my face, aren't I?" you joked, holding a bit of truth. Mizu hummed in agreement, a soft smile still on her face as she traced over the said wrinkles. "Especially here," she replied, tracing your smile lines.

A playful huff escaped your lips, fingers smudging a bit of medicine onto her forehead. "That's your fault. I can't help it if you keep making me smile, love."

She buried her face against your shoulder, allowing herself to take in your scent. A mix of something earthy, medicinal, and a bit of rain. "It's your fault," she mumbled against your neck in a low yet content voice. "You're too pretty when you smile."

"Oh hush, dear husband," you teased, a laugh leaving your lips upon hearing her grunt at the word 'husband'. "Flattery won't get you anywhere."

"Flattery makes my wife smile," she replied with a cheeky grin. "That's more than enough." You stuck your tongue out at her, making her laugh at the playful gesture.

Silence took over the room as you continued to apply the medicine over her wounds, fanning it with your hand to allow it to dry faster. "Love?" you heard her call out. With a small hum, you craned your neck to look at her. "I'm sorry we couldn't get a better inn," she sighed.

You laughed at her words before setting the mortar down, wiping your hands over a washcloth. "It's fine. We don't need to go anywhere special," you replied, trying to get the medicine out from under your nails.

"Besides," you started, cupping her face, squishing her cheeks up a bit. "Anywhere is fine as long as we're together."

Her smile only continued to grow brighter at your words. "Maybe someday, we'll have a place of our own. With place to build a forge..and lots of shelves for my things," you added, the warm feeling in your husband's chest growing and growing with every word.

Gently, she cupped your cheeks back and placed small kisses on your face, pressing her lips on every feature she loves—which was everything. "And if we can't find one, we'll build it," she concluded.

A soft giggle of content could be heard from you as you wrapped your arms around her, making sure you weren't touching her wounds, and sinking into her warmth. "I wish we could get married," you sighed out against her chest. "Like with witnesses and all that."

Mizu could feel her heart pounding at your words, her love and affection overflowing. "I'd love a life like that. Maybe in our next."

"And what if we still can't get married in our next life?" you asked, closing your eyes as you relaxed against her skin. "Then, I'd find you and love you the same," she chuckled, eyes warming up at the sight of your body against her's. "Even if we can't get married in that one?"

"Mhm..I'll find you in every life," she started, tracing her fingers up your back. "Every purgatory." Her hands gently and tenderly caressing your face.

"And love you the same."

[navybrat817]

Incandescent

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes Summary: Bucky and Steve try to put on a show for you. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, implied vaginal and anal sex, threesome, bondage, dirty talk, tension, polyamory, possessive behavior, porn with feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome back to my Howling Commandos Tattoo AU! Have you missed them? I know I have! I was nervous posting this as this my first dive into dynamics with Steve and Bucky, but I love it. If that isn't your jam, feel free to skip! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby ​but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nixakimbo ! Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky and Steve were your world. You weren’t afraid to voice that. In fact, you were proud to be on their arms when you were out together. You had their hearts and vice versa. You were their best girl. Their Blossom. Nothing would ever change that.

But once you got your hands on them, you were going to strangle them. Not enough to inflict real damage. You would never. You loved them. But they were going to feel some sort of wrath.

Fucking tattooed bastards.

You struggled against the binds, your wrists bound tight enough to keep you from escaping, but not enough to hurt you. Like you wouldn't hurt your boys, they would never harm you either. Your core throbbed enough to ache when they knelt on each side of you and faced each other on the bed.

Why did I let them talk me into tying me up? Damn them and their persuasiveness.

As Bucky moved his hand upwards to cup Steve's cheek, they smiled. From their profiles, you caught a hint of playfulness and something deeper before their lips met. A bond between two men who had been through hell and back together. Somehow you became their heaven on earth, allowing them to be with you and each other. And wasn't that the beauty in your relationship? Boundlessly loving and trusting each other?

No. I will not get mushy. Not when I'm frustrated.

Bucky’s tongue darted out to lick along Steve’s bottom lip as he pulled away. “I think Blossom wants a taste,” he said, turning his head to wink at you. Had you voiced your frustrations out loud or did he know you well enough that being a mere spectator wouldn't be enough today?

Both.

“And she’ll get one when we’re ready,” Steve stated, a sympathetic smile on his face as he gazed down at you. You wondered if he was secretly a sadist since he seemed to take pleasure in your current “pain”. “We made you too greedy, didn’t we, sweetheart?”

You squinted, trying your best to glare when they chuckled at your predicament. “You know why I’m greedy? Because you two can’t keep your hands off me OR your tongues, fingers, and cocks out of me. Excuse me for getting a bit used to it when you're to blame.”

Steve chuckled at that, not disagreeing with you.

He better not. I'm right.

A coo left Bucky’s mouth as he leaned down, his lips moving along your cheek before they stopped at your ear. “Who said we’re not giving you our tongues, fingers, AND cocks? Stevie and I just wanna have a little fun first while you watch. Is that so bad? Hmm?”

You whined in response, your hips rising and pussy begging for attention. Mandy joked that your libido was in permanent overdrive thanks to your boys and she wasn’t wrong. Your body craved and welcomed them. They fit like a glove, missing pieces that made you whole.

It was also a sight watching them. The view alone would've been enough to disintegrate your panties had they not destroyed them already. But tying you up so you couldn’t touch? Not even a small feel of Bucky’s bicep or Steve’s chest? It was cruel and unusual punishment and there would be retribution. Those bastards would rue the day.

No clue how, but they will.

“Do you need to touch us that badly? Are you that desperate for us?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow when Bucky leaned back up.

“Yes! Have you seen you two?” You asked as they shifted their gazes to look each other over. They shed their clothes before they bound you to the headboard, giving you a chance to admire them. Hard muscles, sculpted tattoo gods, one blonde and one brunette. “You were created for at least one person in the world to worship you and drive people insane.”

“Aww, I think she wants to worship us,” Bucky smiled, gliding a hand down Steve’s chest. You watched the blonde swiftly inhale, knowing how much he loved the slow drag down his body. “What do you think?”

“Buck,” Steve groaned when Bucky firmly wrapped a hand around his cock.

“Maybe you can fuck my throat first?” The brunette suggested, lazily pumping him as you bit your lip. “Or at least let me get my mouth around it. Get your cock sloppy and wet before you fuck our girl.”

“Please,” you moaned, unable to spread your legs any further since they were still planted on either side. “I need it.”

If begging is what it takes, I'll do it.

“Or you can suck my cock before I fuck her? I know you love watching me slide in and out of her sweet pussy. She always takes me so well,” Bucky went on, Steve’s eyes slipping shut as he began to leave open mouth kisses on his neck. You understood why Steve shivered. Bucky had a very talented mouth. “Too bad she can’t touch herself while she watches like last time.”

Yeah. Too fucking bad.

“Touch her, Buck,” Steve ordered, making you and Bucky gasp when he gripped his hair and pulled him back with a smirk. “Slip those fingers in her cunt and show me how soaked she is from the sight of us.”

You were fairly certain that Bucky and Steve were the only men in the world who could speak about you like you weren’t there and get you hot and bothered. They didn’t have to touch you to prove how wet you were, but you weren’t going to stop Bucky from curling his digits inside you. Especially when Steve gave the order in that deep, husky tone.

“Please, Bucky?” You asked sweetly, raising your hips again. “I know I've been a little mouthy and impatient, but please? Show Stevie how wet my pretty pussy is?”

You shrieked when Bucky’s hand suddenly came down on your throbbing cunt, the smack loud in your ears. “Not your pussy, doll. It’s ours. Now be good and open up,” he said, his voice rough as he bent down and spread your lips apart with one hand, the other still pumping Steve’s hard cock. “Our pussy really is pretty. What a fucking sight.”

“You gonna apologize for calling our pussy yours?” Steve questioned, arching into Bucky’s touch the moment he slipped two fingers inside your wet hole. It hardly stung, the relief as he thrust his fingers making you whimper. “I think you owe us one.”

“Okay. I'm sorry, you fucking tattooed bastards,” you said, smiling dreamily at Steve when he narrowed his eyes. He said to apologize, but didn’t say anything about getting mouthy. Again.

“And this is why we tied you up,” he said, wiping the smile off your face. “You beautiful brat.”

Not fair.

“Oh. Now you’re being mean, Steve,” Bucky said, smirking when he brushed a thumb over your swollen clit. “But I’m not mean, doll. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll get my mouth on your perfect tits. Love hearing you whimper when I drag your nipples between my teeth.”

You shuddered with your next breath, your breasts lightly shaking with your exhale. Both sets of eyes on you darkened at the movement, your cheeks hot as you squirmed. Maybe being tied up wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It didn’t give you a chance to hide from their hungry gazes. It left you open, vulnerable, ready for whatever they gave you.

And you’d take it all because you were strong and eager enough, just like they took everything you gave them. It made sense why you were their Blossom. You bloomed into the person you were now and they helped you continue to grow. In some ways, you did the same for them.

“And who said I’m not getting a taste of anything?” Steve said, batting Bucky’s hand away from his cock. “Take your fingers out.”

Bucky swiftly removed them, making you whine at the loss. A punched sound came from your gut a heartbeat later when Steve gripped Bucky’s wrist and sucked his fingers into his mouth with a grunt, not stopping until they were clean. “I may not need to get your dick wet if she's that soaked. You might be able to slide on in while I fuck you.”

Fuck, please.

It was Bucky’s turn to tremble when Steve nipped at his earlobe. “I think you’d like that. Me at your back. Her at your front. Both of us loving you the way you deserve,” he said, before he turned a fond gaze your way. One that made your throat go dry. “Loving each other the way we all deserve. I know our best girl would agree.”

“Of course, I do,” you whispered. That wasn't lust speaking, but the pure adoration you had for them.

“I love you both so much,” Bucky said without fear or hesitation, his blue eyes sparkling with joy.

You stopped shifting against the mattress, tears threatening to clog your throat. How could they simultaneously turn you on and resort you to happy crying? They made your heart and holes full.

“Love you both, too,” you said, your chest rising and falling with your next breath. “And I’ll be good and watch until you’re ready for me.”

Bucky swooped down to catch your parted lips with his. Heat surged through your body as his tongue fervently tasted your mouth. As quickly as it began, it stopped so Steve’s mouth could replace his. It was just as demanding and hungry as Bucky’s before they turned their attention back to each other, leaving you a panting mess as you watched captivated as they licked and sucked, their kiss rough and desperate.

You knew exactly how they felt.

Steve’s hand closed around Bucky’s cock, swallowing down his groan of pleasure as you could only look on. You found yourself smiling again as they got lost in each other, each of them making sure to keep a hand on you. They were beautiful. They were yours. And they were your home.

Still might strangle them a bit once I’m free. Nah. I’ll just sit on their faces. Much better way to suffocate them.

Until they took care of you, you’d enjoy the show.

Blossom already has a revenge plan brewing. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[tocomplainfriend]

I am mad

Yup!

Bro shut up, she is white - being Latina is not a race, is an not the same as color skin. And she is a second generation immigrant too. So like... this isn't like a Salvadorian person doing a cartoon, is a daughter of Salvadorians... That grew in the USA. Being Latino doesn't mean you aren't white, you can be any race and Latino. Still wouldn't make up for the lack of representation or the existing racism. In the piece of media that's "diverse".

Salvadorian is not a race, LMAO. That's crazy- you think someone from Argentina who is white, is not white cause of their nationality??? Being Latino and having that culture does not equal a race. It's in itself a racist thing. This Latino = Race is terrible, It also comes from the idea of the "You are not Latino because you are not brown", assuming all people from Latino America are brown by default. You know how much has that happen to me? -AND MANY OTHER PEOPLE.

(I'm Latino btw)

I already have an older post about it, but - you can really see the lack of diversity in the show a lot. (Will talk about it even more other day).

Again the main thing you get is MEN, hypersexual skinny queer men (cis). You won't get to see female characters being well written, thought all the season 1 and all the episodes we got rn of season 2. All characters are skinny and similar body types and repetitive design choices. Funny enough, shows that lack of human characters still have better race-coding that helluva. (and well in hazbin you'll get POC characters that are gray, lack all ethic features... even when they are humanoid. So that is great.)

Bro you could, you imagine a character being black and having different textured hair, and you go to hell... AND EVEN THO YOU ARE HUMANOID- your hair became straight and spiky, and you are now a light gray? If you build a world like that... it just seems like the perfect racist excuse to delete ethic features out a POC character because you don't want to draw them. "Not going to a single hint of their race/culture unless it revolves on their death"... If the character became a fucking coin with dot eyes, maybe (not really, shows with no human/humanoid characters still are capable to race-code their characters). But all of these characters are humanoid- why do none of them have their different characteristics? Also, this is about a real person in the real world choosing how to design a character.

This tweet also implies that a black character when they were a life they had ethic features, but lose them when they go to hell. Which is even more fucking stupid.

If a white person with straight hair goes to hell, and their hair remains straight (assuming it has nothing to do with their death), why wouldn't there be black people with textured hair? This is dumb. This goes back to the fucking thing of "No black people in fantasy media", In the same way, it's stupid for fantasy stories to revolve around white people characteristics in fictional species and people in that world- not including all the rest of diverse human characteristics POC people have it's crazy. The biggest problem here is why the fuck all Viv's sinners characters (main characters designed by her) that are supposed to black (or mixed like Alastor) have 0 characteristic. THEY ARE HUMANOID, THEY AREN'T EVEN ABSTRACT OR AN ANIMAL OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. She didn't want to draw that nor change designs, and wanted to justify the whole concept of Alastor even using Voodou.

HOW ARE ALL THE ANGELS THAT VIV WANTS TO BE BLACK (black voice actors specified, or are race specified) HAVE NOTHING??? LIKE HELLO THE 'I'm such a nice angel character girl' HAS SPIKY STRAIGHT HAIR??? SHE IS AN ANGEL AND BLACK, WHY DIDN'T YOU DID HER HAIR TO BE CLOUDS- It's THE EASIEST SHIT YOU COULD’VE DONE.

BOOM! A FUCKING TROLL FROM A KIDS MOVIE WITH DIFFERENT HAIR. BOOM! THE FUNK TROLLS ARE SO EXPLICITLY BLACK CODED.

---

-

Bro, you know this whole thing of people with textured hair have to forcefully straighten their hair or wear wogs to a job... because people consider it ""Unprofessional"" cause racism? The erasure and discrimination of POC people and their features is a problem. That's why it is important to people represent all of those things:

(Marvel's Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur)

The only reason of why Alas tor is even mixed is purely cause Viv used the Voodou symbols because she thought they were creepy and edgy. It's sucks that all the angels and sinners that are supposed to be black have nothing.

[pastorfutureletthembe]

Because of my brain's fucked up chemistry, I bring you bilibili's most hilarious (sarcasm) ploy. This is one of my favorite official artwork. The palette is simple and our beloved characters seem to have fun!

🙂‍↔️ Don't be fooled.

I'll start with the obvious, as always: red stains and apple knives. The pictures are telling enough.

Then we have the number 8. Which, I have my theories on, but nothing significant enough to make a whole post about it yet.

Let's start with the 8 of hearts. If you look carefully, you'll notice there are exactly 8 chandelier arms. 8 strawberries are visible on each cake (one is missing two parts and the other one is partly behind a shadow who must be Li Tianchen). Lastly, but Im not entirely sure of myself here, you can probably count 8 wine glasses (they are rounder than others).

Crossed theory: the missing pieces of the cakes are exactly between IV and VI of a clock. V is hinted yet again 🤌✨ but there are two cakes... making cakes... Yep, you guessed it: one entire Curve, as described in Rick and Morty:

The curve basically walls off the infinite number of universes, in which INSERT IMPORTANT CANONICAL NODE happens, from the rest of the infinite multiverse. A model often used to explain is that the definition of the Central Finite Curve has no set parameters; it's just wholly random and infinite therefore can be represented as a repeating, immeasurable shape modeled with a circle. The Central Finite Curve would then present a finite collection of dimensions.

(Gosh, I do have a lot of meta planned for this show, kill me now // Edit: DONE)

STEPPING AWAY FROM THE LYING CAKE-

For archives purpose, I'll just point out that two Aces of Hearts probably means there are two of the same while there should be one. I don't know if this was a clue already or yet to be resolved. They're both near a candle, a glass and a bottle. It gives the whole table an odd symmetry. Like a mirror you cannot see the frames of. The 8 on cards are also symmetrical + the placement is repeated with both chandeliers. The symmetry of the table implies there is a fourth cake off-screen.

There is one mistake though, I don't know if it was made on purpose or not: none of the hearts are upside down. The 8 of hearts is wrong: there is supposed to be symmetry on the card itself!

Since we already got a tarot reading in the chibisodes, here we go: (a quick google research for this one)

"In divinatory tarot, it could be a mix between the Lovers and the World. Indeed, the ace of hearts relates to the World as it represents the triumph of the individual on the elements that surround him. It also relates to the Lovers thanks to its romantic attributes and consequences."

- latincards

THE DARKER SIDE OF THE ACE OF HEARTS MEANINGS: EXPLORING CONTRASTING While predominantly seen as a symbol of love and positivity, the Ace of Hearts can also have darker or more complex meanings. In some interpretations, it might signify heartbreak, emotional manipulation, or unrequited love. This aspect reminds us that the heart's journey is not always smooth and that love can sometimes lead to challenging or transformative experiences.

- thedopeart

(Sidenote: You should be aware that the LOVERS doesn't exclusively concern romantic aspects of life in our modern world, but life partners in the general sense, people deeply tied to you.)

As for the 8 of Hearts:

The Eight of Hearts is often associated with emotions, love, and relationships. It signifies deep connections, harmony, and positive energy in matters of the heart. When this card appears in a reading, it suggests that love and emotional fulfillment are on the horizon. This card is a symbol of balance and stability in relationships. It indicates that there is a strong foundation of trust and understanding between partners.

Hearts are a recurrent shape used in Qiao Ling's artworks but I'll make another post for shapes/characters related stuff.

For the record, Cheng Xiaoshi isn't drinking red wine on the Halloween poster. Doesn't know where this is going but I've done my share of meta for today 🙂‍↕️

>>> In conclusion,

RED is the real clue here. May it be to indicate the presence of Li Tianchen or VEIN. The same shade of red is all we see, as if a filter was used, and since Li Tianchen's eyes glow red, I guess it's related somehow (metaphorically speaking). The fact everything is the same color was also designed to trick us about the blood on the knife. The aces could be CXS and LG... or LG and Liu Xiao (he seems to be obsessed with him so why not.) In any case, I do see a paradox hidden in plain sight here.

The cards are there as a positive outlook: they are together in this, their friendship is what will thrive on the dark side of the clock! It encourages them to open themselves to others and trust their bond.

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Viktor: "The time to seduce me with beautiful women and katsudon is over. You can fight with your own charm now." Yuuri (suddenly all possessive): "Don't take your eyes off me!" Viktor (utterly clueless): He's so different today. I wonder what has flipped his switch.

Recently, I've found myself coming back to this scene over and over as I was reconsidering the link between the progress of Viktuuri and Yuuri's understanding of Eros. For years, I was convinced that Yuuri had grasped the concept of Eros in episode 6, but (and this is probably controversial) I no longer believe that is true.

So, what happens in episode 6?

While the events during the weeks between the press conference and the Cup of China are open to speculation, the subtext of episode 6 us some cues as to where Yuuri and Viktor currently are in their relationship (the hugging, the cuddling, you know).

In this sense, the short dialogue before Yuuri's short programme, tells us that:

So far, Yuuri hasn't seduced Viktor as himself.

Viktor thinks Yuuri is ready to do exactly that.

They are dating (note the lover's bind aka the lacing of the fingers, which is an expression of romantic intimacy in Japan)

Yuuri's reaction is untypically fierce and possessive.

Viktor has not the slightest clue what triggered Yuuri's response. When put into the context of the whole story, this gives us another hint that Yuuri possibly can't have seduced Viktor prior to the competition. If he had (be it on or off-ice), Viktor would no longer react surprised. (You can actually see the difference in episode 8).

However, Yuuri and Viktor are in entirely different headspaces, which becomes obvious if we think back to the events in the mixed zone. Viktor feels that it's time to gently nudge Yuuri towards a more intimate stage of their relationship. However, Yuuri is upset because just learned that everyone wants Viktor to give up on him and return to competition. He is convinced that Viktor's fans will deem him a poor replacement for Viktor if Viktor keeps coaching him. He thinks that he would disappoint his own fans if the returns to where he was before Viktor. The only option left is pressing ahead on the path he's already on and thus works himself up into wanting to be hated as the man who took Viktor Nikiforov from the world.

With that mindset, Yuuri steps onto the ice.

Viktor's confused reaction when Yuuri storms off shows us something else: He doesn't have the slightest clue that Yuuri is upset because of things that happened right before the short programme. The subtext of the scene implies that he interprets Yuuri's reaction as a sign that Yuuri is indeed ready to seduce him. The lip-licking and all the sensuality Yuuri pours into his immaculate performance must seem from his perspective as if Yuuri truly wants him. He's not entirely wrong about that, but he isn't entirely right either.

Yuuri's eros is dominant and possessive. Several months have passed since the first time he skated Eros to seduce Viktor, but their relationship and Yuuri's understanding of Viktor has deepened since. His eros has evolved into a violent force of nature. His skating no longer is about "seducing" Viktor to stay his coach, he's showing the world (and Viktor) that Viktor is his and his alone and that he is all that Viktor wants ("I'm the only one who can satisfy Viktor. I'm the only one who understands Viktor's love"). And he goes out puling all the stops. And at the next competition, he's going to double down on that. Sounds kinky? It absolutely is.

Ever wonder why Viktor is so flustered right after Yuuri's skate? That's why. This precious boy felt seduced through-and-through by Yuuri's performance.

Viktor: "Yuuri, did it feel that great?" Yuuri: "I was hoping everyone else felt great watching me." Viktor (basically talking about himself): "Of course, they felt great watching a performance like that."

Remember that I said that Viktor has a totally different grasp of the situation than Yuuri because he doesn't know what Yuuri is going through? Viktor projects his own state of arousal from watching Yuuri on Yuuri. But Yuuri is not a second Chris and his response reinforces the implications made above based his inner monologue before and during his performance: He wanted to give "the audience" a good time aka making Viktor feel seduced and convincing the skating world that he is worthy to skate in Viktor's stead.

Learning that "everyone" (and most of all Viktor) had a "good time", is an important step for Yuuri in mastering his short programme:

In episode 6, Yuuri truly understands the power he has over Viktor and what he can do to Viktor with his skating alone.

So far, Yuuri has had a hard time grasping eros, using all kinds of workarounds (food, women etc.). He has refined this understanding as his relationship with Viktor deepened, he has learned to express himself in a sensual manner, but it doesn't come naturally to him. In episode 6, he finally understands that he has the power to turn Viktor on and what exactly he must do to achieve that. He's still using workarounds and these are 100% Yuuri, and because of that, they are successful. Even if he never understands eros beyond the abstract theory, he now has acquired the set of tools to hone is performance and to seduce Viktor if he sets his mind on it. (Yes, this anxious katsudon fatale has some massive kinks and they work for him and Viktor, and I will die on that hill.)

But what about the banquet?

Drunken horniness due to dancing physically with his celebrity crush. Friction is a thing. And let's be honest: otherwise, the whole "grasping eros" story arc would make no sense. Either you have an innate sense of that concept or you don't, and memory gaps can't explain that away.

(No, I'm still on a break from posting meta, but I've been agonising over this for quite a while and had to get it out of my system because I'm currently fixing some stuff related to this in my novelisation.)

If you like my meta, please check out my works on AO3 (link in bio).

Last but not least many thanks to cecebeanie for a discussion that set this thought process in motion 💜💙

[angyo]

HOT DAMN ik i already said a bit abt csm 167 but i keep thinking of more extremely interesting shit here and the sheer inner turmoil in the shared body of asa and yoru

I was wrong, it's not yoru masterminding this. Maybe she is, but we've already got so many hints that yoru and asa are starting to rub off on each other, w/ yoru feeling asa's emotions and asa getting more nonchalant about death and killing. Everything until now has been a relatively clean merge, something neither of them even notices too much.

But denji is a jagged edge. Asa and yoru have very different approaches to love and interpersonal relationships. Asa being a sex repulsed and desperately lonely romantic and yoru being the embodiment of war, uninterested in love, & intimacy only being violence (because war).

The merging can't go unnoticed anymore, it's not just massaging red play doh into blue play doh anymore. Their feelings regarding denji and chainsaw man are so different and entirely irreconcilable the merge is hacking off a hand and painstakingly sewing each individual nerve and vein to the end of a fraying rope.

Here yoru is her usual uncaring self. Denji wants to lose his cock, so be it. Who cares, she's war, she's done worse and feelings never got in her way before.

When denji knocks the knife away that's a very asa face and reaction despite the scars showing it's clearly yoru. Yoru isn't this clumsy. It's not like denji peeled her hand open, he knocked it away and yoru wouldn't have such a loose grip on a weapon.

Yoru is shocked. This shouldn't feel too different from any other fight for her, why is she so shocked? I thought she was unaffected by emotion, so why would she feel even a second of confusion about hurting denji? It's like she's shocked at herself, and she reasserts herself by doubling down on the violence and gripping his balls. Doubt isn't like her, it must be a fluke. She'll finish it quick.

Once again, that is an Asa face with the yoru scar, immediately followed by yoru attempting to regain herself

And failing. This is yoru, why is she so confused? If she wanted to assault denji it wouldn't be unwarranted from War, but there's emotion in that kiss. She looks so shocked when she pulls back, this isn't yoru's idea nor is it asa's. Again it wouldn't be surprising if war decided to idk assert dominance by assaulting denji, but if that was her goal she'd be as confident and unphased as she usually is in fights. At worst she'd be angry if he didn't go along with it, but panicky? Confused? That's not like her

She's too emotionally involved to be yoru, but too sexual to be asa. This is the ugly joint of fraying rope and nerve endings. A girl neither asa nor yoru recognize as themselves and one they can't control as individuals. They are merging, but they can't merge into 1 whole person, they're so diametrically opposed in their views of interpersonal relationships that they can't fuse cleanly together and instead their jagged edges get smushed together with such force it makes a 3rd person they mutually hate and are unable to control.

Finally they split again and asa is so deeply fearful she takes over again. But despite losing the scar she keeps the horseman eyes, and the paneling splits her in half implying we are seeing both of their reactions here. And despite having seemingly been in control and making the decision to assault denji, asa and Yoru are equally terrified by what just happened.

This wasn't yoru raping denji then leaving asa to handle it. God that'd almost be better since at least then asa could blame her, but she can't. This was the ugly frankenstein joinery of yoru and asa acting here. Both individuals lost control of their shared body entirely while their desires were mangled and reshaped into something they find mutually disgusting but are forced to feel as enjoyment. Yoru experiences sensation and emotion she considers so far below her and is terrified by this loss of her devil nature. And asa is lost in indulgence of violent sexuality the likes of which she never could've previously imagined enjoying, let alone forcing onto the only person who ever gave a shit.

As a person she is so deeply concerned with morality and righteousness she won't even cross a red crosswalk with no cars around at night, but she's been forced to commit a crime so heinous as rape against the boy she likes and gain enjoyment from it.

It's so deeply violating not just of her agency but her existence as an individual it's hard to define in words, but i can only imagine asa scrambling away. Frantically she screams at yoru for fucking it all up so badly, only for yoru to be equally as scared and disgusted. This wasn't yoru's doing. This devil that has had such tight control of her for so long is completely clueless as to what the fuck even happened or why and points at asa because if it's not yoru it's asa yeah? But if they look deep inside themselves, they'll see that their reflection isn't them. Neither of them know who this is, and they can't talk to her or control her even as they get sucked into this singularity.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

can i request a dead x reader x euronymous fic where the reader has a solo project of her own it comes out to the public that she’s dating both dead AND euronymous?? pls and thank you

Dating the devils

warning : drinking, mentioning of smoking and drugs, smutish (making out), implied threesome

Info : Thanks for the request anon and your formal words ;) Have fun reading and everyone else too.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breaking News: The Swedish celebrity "Dark Lilith" the solo artist and also necomer to the black metal scene was seen performing a satanic ritual in the cemetery last night, apparently trying to summon demons, two figures were seen walking into the night-" the TV was switched off and a sigh came over her lips, her eyes rimmed with dark make-up showing annoyance and yet a little amusement.

She held a bottle of beer in one hand and her guitar in the other. The dark material shone slightly in the dim light in the anteroom. Outside, she could already hear the audience waiting for her.

Thanks Satan that I'm here but the report is unnecessary shit she thought and took the last sip of her beer. She liked it when people reported on her and yet she could do without false statements.

Two unnamed people. She knew for sure that it was neither a ritual of shame nor two unknowns. Her lovers and sex on the farm were more likely to be asked. But every interviewer had either fled or refused.

It was true that she was female, a witch, Lilith, and perhaps went a little too far. But she was a part of the scene, of the time, and in that time from her beginnings to her rise she had gotten to know them.

Her two dead ones, her loved ones, it was romantic. Euronymous always gave her song lyrics and gestures in the form of kisses and instruments. Dead, on the other hand, often drew her things and wanted her to kill him.

Things that flattered her, but she also knew that if it came out that she was the biggest solo maker in such a scene, dating the two men from Mayhem would be hell. Everywhere. ,,The Christians and fans are coming for me," she muttered, plucking at the side of her guitar before throwing the bottle into a garbage can, hearing the rumble and clink before she stood up and knew it was time.

The stage was her home. Her fans were her worshippers and her voice was the magic. Looking into the crowd, she saw the many dark shapes, the make-up of the women looking up at her and the blood on them. It was perfect.

And when her eyes fell on the group, she saw the black-haired and the blonde. She winked at them and saw that they knew she meant them. Felt the beating of her heart as she started to play and the guitar joined in. It was another concert of life, it was everything.

The walls shook, the crowd went wild, her voice screamed into the microphone and everything was fucking perfect. It was a bloody night, there was alcohol involved, some drugs and Satan himself.

It was all perfect and as the dark curtain closed and she retreated she heard the voices of the group. ,,You played perfectly!" she heard Euronymous shout as he pulled her close and gave her a deep kiss.

,,Really good...almost deadly," quipped Dead and she saw the hint of a smile on his lips, a gesture she knew she didn't see often and yet she was grateful that they were happy. But the rest of the black circle also congratulated them on another successful concert.

They all grabbed a beer and a cigarette before retiring to the anteroom to have a little celebration of their own and make it all the better. Euronymous always had his hand by her side always had his lips on her body wanting more of her whether in front of the others or not.

Dead watched her, every now and then he would say and show her something and gently stroke her hand, enjoying feeling the bones underneath. They both loved her in a way that was indescribable. And at the latest when the cold night air hit her body, she was snapped back to reality.

,,The afterparty is long over, but here... it's cozy, isn't it?" she heard the voice of the band founder as he stood next to her, entangling her in a kiss and only making her mind even more clouded by alcohol and drugs.

,,Supper cozy-fuck," she mumbled and leaned into him wanting more of him wanting more of them both no matter if it was in a side alley next to the hall. It didn't matter, it was the only thing she needed to get down. ,,Warm...soft," she heard Dead murmur as he knelt in front of her and kissed his way up her legs.

His cold lips almost as cold as a corpse, his pale pale in the moonlight as he ran his knife over her skin while Euronymous used his hand to start massaging her breasts. She wore no tights, just the black top and the short leather skirt.

The warmth she gave him was the only thing the blonde needed to live. He needed her to stay here and Euronymous needed her to keep going. And she needed them both to feel fucking good.

It was a moment between them that would lead to a promising night. If all three of them didn't pause when they heard the clicking sound. ,,What the fuck?" she mumbled, coming back to the now lost to the two of them and looking into the surprised face of a reporter.

,,You're dead!" Euronymous hissed and took out his taser, which flashed through the dead end. ,,Death," Dead muttered, gripping the knife in his hand tighter before the two ran towards the reporter. As he ran screaming for his life, their laughter could be heard. It was satanically good, it was hellishly ampsant for her.

It only got better when she saw her picture on the title page the next day. ,,Fuck look at you so pretty," Euronymous said and Dead nodded in agreement. ,,An album cover...for Lilith," the blonde said and began to draw inspiration.

The picture showed her leaning against the brick wall, her eyes closed with lust, Euronymous at her side, his hand under her top as he kissed her neck.

Dead kneeling in front of her with the knife running over her skin as he kissed his way up her legs to her center. ,,A fucking good picture...I think we should have done this sooner," she muttered, picking up the newspaper before cutting out the article and nailing it to the wall with a knife. It was a fucking satanic masterpiece.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mayhem-things , @icarus-star

[geekgirles]

I'm actually quite proud of Armand right now. Openly admitting to Amalia the reason their relationship was always strained was because he'd always been jealous of her and her relationship with their father is such a great character moment for him.

One thing season 4 is definitely delivering is some much needed depth and exploration of the Sadida Royal family. And I find myself fascinated (not only because Amalia is my favourite character and I have a soft spot for her people).

Personally, Armand is a character I have a lot of trouble having a clear stance on. I don't hate him, and it's true his motives become clear and even understandable once you give them some thought, it's just that Ankama does a wonderful job at making him both outwardly dislikable given his abrasive personality and some of his most questionable actions.

For example, season 3 Armand and season 4 Armand are almost like night and day. Maybe it is indeed that his new role as king has forced him to be more responsible and emotionally mature, but the vibes between L'assamblée and Falling Down are completely different.

In season 3 he just oozed contempt for his sister, and his actions towards her reeked of ulterior motives. The fact that Aurora has been described as manipulative (even her hairstyle is meant to hint at her true nature) and was purposely placed in between the two siblings as a visual nod to how she's keeping them apart doesn't help matters.

Which is another factor to take into account: Aurora's character and the role she plays in the siblings' deteriorating bond.

Even if so far she seems to genuinely love Armand, I really can't bring myself to trust Aurora. Not only because of all the behind-the-scenes facts I already mentioned, but because her actions are just sketchy and clearly veered to the betterment of the Osamodas rather than the Sadida.

First of all, her contempt for Amalia is genuine and she legitimately seems to be planning to send her away to keep her from interfering with her plans. After all, this is literally what she had to say about her sister-in-law:

"Ne vous en faîtes pas mon prince, nous finirons bien par redresser cette mauvaise herbe."

Translation: "Don't worry, my prince, we'll get this weed straightened out in the end."

(I haven't watched the English dub, so my apologies if the translation doesn't match the official version).

There's also the fact that, despite being the new Sadida Queen, her intentions in season 3 clearly laid in the benefit of her own kingdom, the Osamodas. Such is reflected in her choice of suitors for Amalia:

She intended for Amalia to marry Ashdur, her own cousin, thus, strengthening the Osamodas' hold over Sadida politics. In fact, it becomes quite clear Aurora's choice in suitors, only supported by Amalia implying back then her sister-in-law had already tried the same thing with her brothers, was much less about the future of the Sadida Kingdom and more about the Osamodas' sake.

After all, while arranged marriages between royal families isn't anything new, usually the sensible and even most strategic thing to do is for rulers to"spread" their children and marry them into different families around the world. That is exactly what Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabela of Castile did with their own children, they married them off to the royal families of England, Portugal, and Austria.

With that in mind, having both Sheran Sharm children marry Osamodas royalty just seems dumb, doesn't it? It all comes to show Aurora is more concerned over solidifying her power over the Sadida Kingdom than its actual well-being.

Which is why I'm still going to keep my guard up regarding her character until the season ends. After all, we still have 9 more episodes where everything can go up in flames.

But going back to Armand, even though he is in love with his wife, his treatment of Amalia in L'assamblée is leagues better than it was in season 3. Unlike most of his appearances and his interactions with his sister, where he kept treating her like a child who didn't know any better (what she just so happened to accuse him of when presented with Ashtur, as a matter of fact), here not only does he finally open up to his sister about his insecurities and his reasoning for his behaviour towards her, but he offers her support in the wake of their father's passing and even invites her to attend the assembly with him.

He is entrusting her with responsibilities befitting a queen, not a child.

Their relationship is finally healing.

As I said earlier, despite the undeniable depth behind his character, it's difficult to really side with Armand in plenty of occasions. Not only because of his difficult personality and flaws, but because it is so much easier to sympathise with Amalia.

And I'm not talking exclusively about the fact that, as one of the main characters, we've been by her side throughout everything, witnessing her true selfless, responsible, and brave self, but the fact that her position within her own family certainly tugs at our heartstrings.

Amalia is the youngest sibling, the princess. For all the sheltering and privileges that can get her, it also became her gilded cage. And for the most part, not even her family was a safe haven.

Queen Sheran Sharm died when Amalia was probably still a kid, whereas Armand was most likely already a teenager. As King Oakheart revealed back when he explained to Amalia it had been Armand who insisted they let her go, the queen's death shook their entire family, making the king and prince unintentionally turn their backs on Amalia during a time she needed as much affection as possible. And so, her royal duties became stifling, her royal upbringing unbearable. Thus is the reason for her wanderlust.

And then we have Armand's reason for not always being fair to her: jealousy. He resented her for being Oakheart's favourite, despite constantly going off to adventures while he remained in the kingdom by his side. Now, as I said, this was a great character moment for Armand, one that also belies his character development. However, it doesn't change the fact that, while easier to relate and sympathise with him, we still sympathise with Amalia more or have been doing so for far longer because we knew the effect this had had on her.

We all have been someone's scapegoat to their frustrations with a third person, we have all been treated unfairly by someone who, for whatever reason, couldn't solve their own issues with the person they had problems with in the first place and took it out on us. This is the crux of Armand and Amalia's strained relationship: for years, Armand took his frustrations and insecurities out on Amalia instead of having an honest conversation with their father.

That's why it's easier to sympathise with Amalia, because we know that, deep down, for all her flaws, she was never at fault for how their relationship turned out. Because we can understand her frustration and pain when, even with their dying father, Armand still chose to listen to his wife over her and try to marry her off instead of being there for each other when they both needed most. As Amalia called him out for before leaving with Yugo, he still chose politics over family. Everything involving Armand and Aurora is about politics.

But now that they are at least beginning to rebuild their relationship, I sincerely hope things get better for them. Unless their original intentions back in 2017 have changed, I seriously fear Ankama will still use Aurora to complicate things further between these two.

Please, Ankama, I'm literally begging you. They're all the family they each have left, don't let their relationship be ruined forever.

[anxious-witch]

Okay, okay, fine I am doing analysis of Damon Baker's photoshoots 😂

That said, since a lot of people already analyzed Kris' and since Bojan's has less picture, I am gonna start with his. Also obviously, this is totally subjective, I am not claiming this is one true or absolutely correct analysis, just my thoughts on it.

Under the cut bc this will deff get long

So I cropped the pictures so I can analyze them separately

To start off with these two, because I think they were put like this bery purposefully. On the left, we have Bojan with his arms crossed, his expression is, the reminiscent of "The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel (I apologize, someone else already did a comparison but I can't find it rn, feel free to tell me in the replies and I'll tag you). Bojan looks almost angry, his crossed over arms showing he is closed off and the spikes on his biceps emphasizes that. It literally feels like a warning sign. His eyes are downcast, as if he is looking down on something or someone. He is something to look at, but not touch, if you don't want to get hurt.

Then we have a smaller pictures right next to his one, that's almost exact opposite. It feels like we caught him in a momen where he was not meant to be seen. His face look tortured, like he just cried or is about to cry. His hair is messy in a way that doesn't feel like it was on purpose, but rather as if he messed it up during his inner turmoil. There is also a cigarette, which implies he is taking it to calm himself. His eyes are pointed upwards, as if he is seeking guidance from someone above him.

I feel like, for me, from storytelling perspective, these two pictures put together like this hint at Bojan's struggle with anxiety.

He is trying to appear tough and untouchable, the way he feels he has to be, but he is struggling internally. This is overall theme of the shoot, I think.

Next we have this shot of his outfit. My first thought when I saw this was "this looks oddly rugged for Bojan". And I do stand by it. The shirt is half undone, half tucked into his pants, but half outside in the back. Like he got dressed in a hurry. Like he doesn't care or perhaps doesn't have the energy to care about how he is appearing. And then, tbe belt buckle with a broken heart. I think, that's the core element in this particular picture. Especially in comparison to Kris' heart necklace. Despite the rugged clothes, there is something fragile underneath all that. His heart.

Then we have this one. And it's such a stark contrast than the previous three, I was genuinely shook. In this one, Bojan is openly vulnerable towards the camera, towards the viewer. Not looking up or down, but directly to the camera. Also the detail that @theraggedygirl11 pointed out about him wearing Damon's "safe sweater" broke me. It's almost as if he is saying, "look, this is how I am when I am allowed to be safe. This is how I am when I am not suffering".

What a contrast to the above outfit! The open shirt only poised as fake vulnerability, when a truly vulnerable Bojan isn't showing off his skin at all here, but rather his face. His emotions, all on display.

Another thing that strikes me as amazing in this particular picture (can you tell this one is my favorite?) is that his pose looks comfortable and his hair falls gently to the side, freely showing off his gray hairs, that are especially visible in black and white.

Then at last, we come to these three, all in color. Unlike Kris, who had water, Bojan has fire as his "element" in this photoshoot. Fire is passion, light, warmth. It entices you, and it's much more noticable at first. But it can also burn you. There is also a reason why we say we "burn out" as well. Bojan holding a literally lit match in his mouth is such an amazing imagery.

We all know that magic trick of a man extinguishing a match in his mouth, for the entertainment of all. Putting himself in a very vulnerable position. Lips, mouth and tongue are so soft, especially compared to fire that burns. And is that not in a way, exactly what Bojan does? He pours out his heart while he sings, leaving it to the crowd to decide if they are entertained with his preformance. And surez ither do it too, but I think we can agree he is the most on display.

The way he is looking at the camera first, as if waiting for a reaction, and then as the fire gets closer, his eyes close too, as if he is too scared to look.

Just....augh, I love the way Damon Baker showcased his personality through these and how he expressed so much through just a few pictures. Also, please feel free to add your own thoughts, I love hear other ppl's opinions on things like these

[heartfullofleeches]

Cinnamon Cream

Yan Couple [F+M] + G.N Reader

A.N: The winning pair from a poll I ran to satisfy my craving for edible partners. The duo are heavily implied to made out of the foods they represent as a heads up

-

"Care for another roll, Hun? Can't send you home on an empty stomach."

This woman was trying to kill you. The tinge of cinnamon fresh on your tongue, you couldn't fathom the consequence of taking on another pastry when you've only sampled the first. Your stomach being empty was the last of your concerns with how big it was. Your free hand lie flat on the table and even it was off by a few inches. She claimed to have made this batch smaller so you could finish the full dozen before you left which you found quite impossible. Prying the fork from your teeth, you let the woman down as best you could - praying to be let off with the rest to take home.

"No thank you, Mrs. Cinnabar - I haven't finished the first."

Her jovial demeanor is not lost as she takes the utensil off your hands. "You can drop the formalities, Love. We're all friends here. You'll have to forgive me for everything else. Izzy worked so hard on his part and I would hate for it to melt before you become addicted to us both."

The smell hits you before you take the bite she offers. No matter the date in time, she always smelled like a bakery. Mrs. Cinnabar has been your neighbor for about a year now following the disappearance of the last tenant not even a week before she and her partner moved in. A friendly face to all, she had taken a special liking to you when your paths finally crossed. Being next door neighbors was one reason, but she also told you she took an immediate interest to you similar to the instant attraction she felt towards her husband. He wasn't in the picture often, and so your company patched up the hole his absence left. With the combination of her loneliness and the rewards of free meals - who were you to say no when she asked for you to visit? Today's dessert was meant to be special and now you knew why.

Cheeks stuffed with pastry, the sweet bread takes up a new texture as you manage to scarf it all down. Rich, velvety cream with just a hint of vanilla; the cold, ceremonious blend to an otherwise warm and sticky treat. As the taste settles on your tongue, you could piece together traces of the ice cream mixed directly into the icing of the cinnamon roll - the delicate flavor you had trouble putting your finger on before. It certainly lived up to the hype set for it by the woman at your side. The scent of cinnamon is almost overpowering as Cinnabar sweeps her thumb up the corner of your sugar crusted lips; smile as sweet as the roll on your plate.

"Well, don't keep me waiting. You like it - don't you, Hun?"

"I-it's great... Wish I could give my compliments to your spouse."

Cinnabar peaks up in her seat; a chill running down your spine at the extend of her grin. For a brief moment she looks behind you. "Who said you couldn't?"

Leaning back in your seat, you come to find that the source of your chattering teeth is not her smile, but the hands of the man gripping the back of your chair. His glare is as icy as the frost radiating off him, your breath visible as you exhale in surprise. Stoic as a brick wall, his eyes show signs of satisfaction drifting over the missing forkful of the now frozen dessert. Ever so slow, he cleans the remaining crumbs off your face before joining his wife's side of the table. Perching an arm over her shoulder, he slides a metal ring into her breast pocket as she takes his hand.

"Y/n, Izzy. Izzy..." Cinnabar rests her head on his wrist. "knows all about you already. Nosy thing has listened in on all of our conversations before now and I'd say he adores your company as much I as I."

"but... I thought you said he was gone most of the day?"

"Oh, he is, Hun. Up in his study. Not too good at speaking with other humans. Specially cuties like yourself, isn't that right, Dear."

Izzy nods his head with a grunt - pale face just shy of a flush under the kitchen lighting.

"We both care about you so much, Hun. Watching you has opened so many doors for us so it's only fair we open ours to you. We've thought hard about how to introduce you to life with us, but the best start was showing you have well we work together. How good all of us could be for each other. I'll keep you warm in the winter, Izzy can cool you down in the summer. You...can just be you. We know this is a lot to take in now, but soon you'll see things our way."

Cinnabar retrieves a set of keys from her pocket, twirling the familiar ring round her finger. "We can talk more about this after you finish your dessert."

[cbrownjc]

Some Quick EP 2x05 Predictions

So yes I'm excited as hell about this episode and will be avoiding things online starting at 7 AM my time tomorrow (Saturday) since I know that is when Australia will get to see the episode and I do not want to be spoiled. Because this is the episode I have most been waiting for since I learned about it.

And there honestly isn't much of anything I need from the episode itself. For me, Devil's Minion having happened in the past was fully confirmed back in episode 2x02, and now I just want to see how the show slowly unfolds the story. But there are still some thoughts and predictions I have in my head that I want to note before the episode airs.

Again, this isn't stuff I'm hoping for, just stuff I feel we might see or might happen based on what we know so far:

-- After the fight at the end of 2x04, Armand will be missing/gone during the Dubai scenes for some reason. Because so far, all the little glimpses we've gotten wrt the Dubai scenes have been Louis and Daniel by themselves. For Armand to not be there, even just to keep an eye on things, then something really must be up (or was said during that fight that we just didn't see).

-- We will find out where Armand is/went off to in the present day at the end of the episode. (And if we see Armand talking to Justin Kirk's character, that will confirm he's Marius, even if he's still calling himself Raglan James.)

-- In 1973, Louis and Armand actually weren't living together in the apartment at 503 Disavadiro Street where Louis and Daniel had their interview. Either Armand lives in another, separate apartment in that same building, or he lives in another place altogether. IMO, this is confirmed by the last line we hear at the end of episode 2x04 when Armand says, "I was at home picking --" Which, along with the door we hear opening and then slamming shut when Armand comes in calling Louis' name implies Armand has just arrived at that location. Meaning that where Louis is is not Armand's home.

-- In the 1994 movie, a specific line was added -- that isn't in the book -- when movie!Daniel asks movie!Louis to turn him. And that was movie!Daniel saying that what movie!Louis wanted -- what movie!Louis was looking for -- was a companion. And I think tv!Daniel is going to say the same thing to tv!Louis. The show has very much been emphasizing that two vampires who are chosen companions is a much deeper connection than even just being lovers. And so I think that will be part of what will be included when Daniel asks Louis to turn him in the show -- Daniel offering himself to be Louis' companion.

-- Daniel offering to be Louis' companion will definitely have him thinking about Lestat and I don't think that alone is what will set Louis off into attacking Daniel -- but I don't think it's going to help.

-- As is already quite clear, part of what keeps Daniel alive after Armand gets hold of him is jealousy, as well as curiosity, about why Louis would open up to this seemingly random human boy in such a way, when Louis has not done so with Armand himself. And that is going to be what continues to keep Armand from killing Daniel -- just his own curiosity about him continuing to grow. And, by the end of the episode, I think we'll hear Armand say to Daniel what he said in the book about that in one of the final flashback scenes: "As long as I find you interesting, I won't kill you." This will give a hint as to why Daniel is still alive in the present day, but still will not give the full story as to why just yet either.

-- That is NOT Daniel who Louis and Armand are carrying out of the house in the surveillance photo taken by the Talamasca. That is the man who was wrapped in plastic, with his mustache shaved off. Things are being staged to make it look like that is what is happening, but it is not.

-- "I know where he is." This is either Armand talking to Louis about where Lestat is, or . . . Armand talking to Daniel about where Louis has gone off to -- which would be to go and find Lestat. Either way, I feel that line is connected to something having to do with Lestat.

-- In Dubai, Louis is going to get some type of memory back from some event that we saw in Season 1 -- but this time it will contain extra context that we didn't see then -- that going to have Louis realize that his memories about things are way more faulty than he initially thought -- to the point where it all really shakes him to the core. And he and Daniel will both agree to figure out what and why, as their gaps in memory will seem quite similar to each other.

-- I don't know what it'll be or the context it'll be presented in, but we'll see something of REAL Lestat in this episode IMO. Either in 1940s Paris, or 1973, or . . . in the present day. Just because I'll be incredibly shocked if Sam Reid isn't in the episode at all. Even if it is just for 30 seconds I think Lestat will be seen in some kind of way.

And that's kinda it. Not much longer of a wait now! 😊