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#they end up getting them and enjoying them anyways
tbaluver · 2 days
Note
Hi...I love your writing so much, Big Fan >_< ♡
Can I ask about what it's like to shower with LNDS men?
Thank U
Showering With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content. short NSFW is right below the SFW ! (p.s sorry if this format was confusing ! just wanted to add both in this one) a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you for supporting my work i always appreciate it so much ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading this and my other future works ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i dunno but i might make a shower smut after writing these LMAO anyways gonna post another headcanon in a few hours after this (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier: (SFW)
More of a shower person than a bath person because there were too many times to count on how many times you saw him asleep in the bathtub.
Almost falls asleep when you massage his scalp with soap as he wraps his hands on your waist to keep balanced. It just felt too relaxing and he couldn't help but flutter his eyes closed
Has a fair share of wash products but he ends up using yours because yours smell better and it smells like you.
He loves it when you clean him, it feels such a safe and intimate space between the two of you. You hum softly as you work gently against his scalp that you lathered. He felt so safe, so warm, in the space that you two created that he eases into the relaxation.
Loves the feeling of you every time he grazes his hands over your body. Obviously he’ll make sure to wash you as well. He’ll make sure that the soap doesn’t get in your eyes. Sometimes the two of you stand and hug, enjoying each other presence, while the water pours over the two of you-until the water gets cold.
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Xavier: (NSFW)
He can't help it. You'll feel his hard-on when he's pressed up behind you. Ruts into you very slowly against your ass as he wraps around you while his hand is planted on your thigh to control the lazy pace. His moans would invade your ear as shaky breaths escape your lips.
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Zayne: (SFW)
Another intimate time for the two of you.
When he’s coming home from work, he’s basically putty in your hands. You didn’t need to ask twice. He would barely have any energy to eat dinner or shower. He’s so touchy when you’re helping him wash him off while he lowly murmurs in your ear ‘thank you’s’
The type of man that would admire your body as he washes you with the body soap and shampoo. He has seen your body many times and has memorized every detail of you. But each time he sees you, it's like discovering you anew again. His eyes trail down as his hands lower, lower, and lower down your body as he washes you with the body soap.
Helps you wash your back and any hard places for you to reach and you do the same for him as well.
When you offer to help him wash his hair, he leans down, and you lather it with extra soap, laughing at how cute he looks. He doesn’t mind this at all, he finds your reaction to be adorable whenever you do this.
When he washes your hair, he is always so gentle. “Close your eyes for me, my love.” He’ll say softly as his hands carefully knead shampoo into your hair before washing it all away. He'll make sure none of it goes into your eyes.
Once you both finish washing, he turns off the shower and steps out to grab your towel. You both dry each other off, making sure every drop of moisture is gone and helps you put on your robe.
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Zayne: (NSFW)
One finger would be rolling on your nipple while the other hand works through your folds. His mouth would be sucking and swirling on your breasts.
He'll use the shower bench to sit and to meet your height to suck on your breasts but will also use that opportunity to let you ride him.
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Rafayel: (SFW)
Takes a long shower and I’m talking hours. He most definitely hogs the water and leaves you cold behind him. Has way too much showering products than you but he’ll definitely share them with you
Jokes aside, he would not stop caressing every inch and curve of your body when he sees you glistening with the water.
Loves to wrap his arms around you from behind. He’ll trail kisses on your shoulder to your ear while whispering how cute you look  before burying his face in the crook of your neck.
Lets you try all his expensive washes and you two would experiment every shower on which is the best
Would tell you to wash him and he loves it when you wash his hair. The way your fingers scrub the shampoo and your nails massaging his scalp, felt like heaven to him. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder as you wash the suds out and he’ll have a content smile resting on his lips.
When the two of you are finished drying up, he'll make sure to pick the best moisturizer for the two of you before you both get dressed
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Rafayel: (NSFW)
Round two. After you both finish having sex in bed or wherever, you’ll find him against you again all naked and wet. His arousal is more heightened in the water. He just needs his pretty girl again after the mess you made on his cock
Loves how the water slides and glistens down between your bodies
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Sylus: (SFW)
The type to say, “Why waste water when we can just shower together.” And I fear he does have a point so that’s why you both shower together often.
He likes to stand behind you most of the time because this allows him to place his chin on your head as the water falls onto the both of you.
He is most definitely going to get handsy using the soapy water. He’ll moves his hand further down to rub your butt and give it a light squeeze
He loves to put the lather of soap on your nose or place a bunch on your hair just to see your reaction. He also finds it amusing to see you try to do the same with him but you can’t because of your height difference. It usually ends up in a bubble war between the two of you.
He helps dries you off first before you help him dry him off. He'll lower his head so you can ruffle the towel on his head.
When it was his turn to wash his hair, he would lean down, a smile curling on his lips as he gazed at your face while you carefully shampoo into his hair
“Sy close your eyes”
“Why would I do that when I want to stare at my pretty girl?”
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Sylus: (NSFW)
You turn him on easily so showering with him feels like he has a permanent hard on. Once you step in the shower, he’ll let you get warm and wet before he starts  rubbing up on you. He just loves the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, especially since you both are wet.
Pins you against the glass door of the shower and takes you from behind. His right hand finds your breast, squeezing them and pinching your hardening buds in the warm water while his left hand is on the plush of your ass. Sometimes he'll press you up against the wall and have your legs wrapped around him so you don't slip, just let him do all the work as he ruts into you
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giannaln4 · 2 days
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I Missed You
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: You missed seeing Lando being happy after a race, and you couldn't wait to tell him how proud you were.  (1.4k words)
warnings: fluff, stablished relationship, a bit of mclaren slander
a/n: when i tell you i loved this idea SO SO much. i’m not too sure i’m happy with how this turned out but i really hope you guys enjoy it 🩷 i apologise for posting this just before the race but it was a bit hard to get started for some reason 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!
check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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The weekend in Monza was one you were hoping to forget. The tension in the air reflected not only in the team but also in the comments people were making about it, having even sports commentators and content creators question McLaren’s entire strategy to keep their fighting position in the WCC and also have a shot at the WDC. 
Lando’s demeanour immediately after getting off the car was something you would never forget, though, even if you tried. It was pretty obvious for everyone, even if he tried his hardest to never say something bad about his team and his teammate. That team was his home anyway. He had been with McLaren even before his F1 career started, and even after weekends like this one, he would never doubt he wanted to achieve great things with them.
That is probably what made it harder for him. This year they were competing not only for points and podiums but for something bigger, and after knowing what he is capable of, ending up in that position absolutely crushed him, and you hated to see him debating with himself. 
Once the weekend was finally over and you were leaving Italy, you wanted to make him feel better, telling him how great he was and how proud you were. You even shot some comments at McLaren for everything that went down, but he didn’t want to hear it; he barely wanted to talk about it, so you just dropped it. You understood him anyway, so you had to leave everything behind and just be supportive of your boyfriend.
You were hoping this weekend would be different, better, everyone was, and there was a lot of talking in the team that they would make the right decisions to keep fighting now that they had the chance. This, of course, would only mean something until they actually proved it during the race. 
Lando was in a better mood coming into this weekend; he trusted his team and he was confident they were backing him up. That was until the qualifying came. A yellow flag being pulled out by mistake during Q1 caused him to lose the opportunity to even put up a fight, and he ended up being P17. It wasn’t even his fault, but you knew he was beating himself up for that result. 
“Lando,” you called him right after he came back to the garage to watch the rest of the qualifying. He looked at you with a disappointed smile. “It’s not your fault, baby.”
“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, not wanting you to worry about him too much. “There’s nothing I could have done. We just have to wait and see what we can do tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you replied into his chest, rubbing small circles in his back to let him know you were there for him, no matter what. 
“We’ll see. The car felt okay, but it’s hard to overtake on this track. It’s quite a long straight.” He let out a nervous giggle as he pulled away; he didn’t sound as confident as you were hoping, but you knew he was right. “Some of it is just going to have to cross our fingers.”
There was no point in fighting him when he got like that, so you just nodded. “I’ll be crossing everything I have then.”
He went off with the rest of his team as you stayed back to watch the rest of the cars complete the qualifying. The air was starting to get tense again, and even though you knew everyone was nervous with Lando’s result, you weren’t sure if it was just your own feelings talking. But like Lando said, you were going to have to wait and see what the team could come up with, you were just hoping they would do the right thing.
Race day was finally here, and with Lewis starting from the pit lane due to a new power unit and Pierre being excluded due to fuel flow rate, Lando had been promoted to P15. Sure, it would have been better if Lando had the chance to fight for his starting position, but at least that was something. 
You could see he was still not completely confident in how the race would go, but you trusted enough for the both of you. 
Watching the race from the garage was something that always made you incredibly nervous, but especially in this position. But Lando managed to get to P12 by lap 2, and everyone was incredibly excited by his overtakes. 
As the race went on and he felt more confident with the car, he started to climb his way up to the top 10, trusting the team’s decisions with the strategy they were sticking to, and you were so glad everything was falling in place. 
The rest of the race still made you bite your nails at how nervous you were, but the bliss in the entire garage when he overtook someone was indescribable. He was driving the race of his life, and even the radios he exchanged with the team radiated that. As always, the last few laps were nervewracking, but the fact that he made it all the way to P6 and was even helping Oscar with his own race left everyone with a good taste. Not a complete terrible weekend after all. 
During the last lap, however, an unfortunate crash between Carlos and Checo pushed him to P4, meaning he gained 11 positions during the race; not that you ever doubted him, but seeing him end up there with the fastest lap after an absolute mess of the qualifying made you excited to see him. After confiming everyone was okay, you took the liberty to celebrate your boyfriend’s race.
Lando got out of the car and went to greet his team, cheers and smiles all over the place. Everyone was praising him for the incredible work he made, and his smile didn’t go away for a second the entire time. 
You knew you would still have to wait to congratulate him; he still had to do media before coming back to his room, where you were waiting for him, but seeing him so happy in the monitors made you grow impatient. 
It felt like it had been a while since you saw him so happy after a race.
After what felt like forever, you heard him come back to the garage. You stoop up from the small couch and opened the door, where you were greeded by your boyfriend. 
“Hey, you.” You said, closing the door behind him.
“Hi,” he replied, smile so big you could see his dimples.
“That was amazing, Lando. I knew you would do amazing, but I can’t even describe how proud I am.” 
He smiled even more at your words. He closed the distance between you when he took a few steps, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. You could even feel him smiling then, and that filled your heart.
“Thank you; it was a good day,” he said when he pulled away, looking down at you with loving eyes. “I think everything worked out.” You just nodded as you admired him.
“I missed you,” you whispered as you brushed a few curls that fell on his forehead.
“What do you mean? We’ve been together the last three weeks. You saw me just before the race." To say he was confused was an understatement, and you could see it in his face.
“I mean you, this. I missed seeing you so happy and smiley. Looks good on you.”
Lando was a bit embarrassed by your confession; he thought he did a better job at hiding how much the results affected him, at least to you. It was never his intention to be so down when he was with you, but man, was he endeared by your words. “I needed this,” was all he said, and you know he was right. And it wasn’t only him; you knew the team needed this as well.
“I know, and I know you hate to hear it, but I told you.”
He let out a laugh, not a nervous one this time. “Yes, you did,” he hugged you again, much tighter as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. “Thank you for being here and supporting me, even during my bad times.” He spoke with so much sincerity. 
“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
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Sentimentality
It’s been a while since I’ve written and posted anything so here it is. I swear Sylus has not left my mind since I started playing.
Anyways here’s a little Sylus reassurance when you’re having doubts!
Warning: kisses, light teasing, uh implied cunnilingus that’s about to start at the end
If you prefer AO3 here!
Divider by cafekitsune
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There had been a somewhat heavy feeling in your chest that you’ve been ignoring. You’re not sure where that weight is coming from or better yet— that insecurity . Does he really want you for the long run? It seems like it, and though mischievous with his words, he is very forward with his words and action. 
“Sylus, if something happened to me, what would you do?” You ask sprawled out on his bed while he’s getting ready for his meeting. In your mind it sounded like a simple enough question. Honest curiosity laces your tone. His hands suddenly stop, shirt only halfway done. Sylus’s face scrunches up in disgust at the thought of it. Before turning to face you, he makes sure to relax his facial features. “Are you planning to go away, kitten? Any mission worrying you?” disguising his worry in an almost casual tone “want me to tag along? You know I’ll go with you. Just ask, sweetie.”You're still looking up at the ceiling. Arms resting by your side lost in thought. “Hhhmm, just asking. I guess.”Sylus has moved to the foot of the bed, grabbing you by your ankles – pulling you towards him. Surprised by his actions you let out a startled yelp. He’s not sure what’s going on through your head, and he’s not sure how to ask you. While he might be brass, always getting straight to the point there’s something a little off about you today. Your smile isn’t quite reaching your eyes, not as talkative, lost in your own little world. So, he wants to make sure you truly understand and believe his words over all else. 
Dropping your legs at the edge of the bed so he’s able to stand between them he slowly bends down. Caging your body under his to stop you from getting away. His piercing gaze unsettles you for a second, leaving you frozen in place. In a flash his crimson eyes soften, filling with such a warmth that makes you feel like a soothing balm has been poured over the cracks in your heart. “I’d set the entire world on fire and spend the rest of eternity searching for any trace of you in those ashes.”  — He speaks in earnest, deep voice sounding hoarse. Words spoken slowly and low, as if he’s telling the secrets of the universe.  Secrets meant to be kept between you and the four walls of this room. Cupping your cheek with one hand while shifting his body weight on the other to not lose eye contact with you; he adds “Nothing, no one will ever take you away from me. Not the heavens or me getting lost in the nine circles of hell can rip me away from you. I will always search for you and I will always find you.”Lost for words all you manage out is a shaky breath. all as a response. If there’s one thing Sylus is, it is honest. This is something you know, but the profoundness of his words stun you. You feel like your brain is malfunctioning, not being able to come up with words. Eyes wide and watery, you can hear the rush of your blood in your ears. Your heart beats wildly like a trapped bird wanting to escape its enclosure.“I don’t enjoy these questions, sweetie. Especially coming from your pretty mouth” Placing both of his hands on either side of your head, he gently leans in for a kiss, the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over your lips. Giving you a quick peck, then you feel his lips brushing the shell of your ear “You’re mine and you’re not going anywhere”.Wrapping your arms around his neck you gently tug him towards you, so more of his body weight is on you. Just wanting to feel him close, enjoying the warmth of his body on yours.  There are many things you’d like to say, numerous emotions and feelings you’d like to voice. But it all gets tied at the back of your throat. With a lack of words to summarize it all a simple “thank you” escapes your trembling lips. 
Those words mean a lot to Sylus, it’s something he rarely hears. And with the way it fell from your mouth so willingly, no ulterior motives behind it only raw emotions dripping in sincerity; now leaves him lost for words. He hopes you know how much he adores you, how much you mean to him, how you’re the best thing to come into his life. How he’ll always defy fate and search for you. When the time comes he’ll sit you down and recount your past together. Not now though. For now he’ll just enjoy having you with him once again . 
Resting his forehead against yours for a few seconds he decides on staying in tonight. The meeting can be rescheduled, anything can wait when it comes to you. “Let’s just stay here tonight, Sweetie” he murmurs.
“I wasn’t aware I was even invited to accompany you in the first place.” you retort. A small chuckle rumbles in his chest. A sound you can’t get enough of. 
“You would think at this point in time you don’t need an invitation. You’re always free to come with me if you desire” Sylus says, like it should be the most obvious thing to you. 
Rolling your eyes playfully at him you quip “Well personally I prefer to be told that you’d like me there.”  
“I always want you with me. Are you not aware of that?” the silver haired male asks, looking quizzically at you. “Oh.” “Yeah, oh, sweetheart.” he taunted, with the corner of his lips upturning in that dangerous smirk of his. “You’d be wise to remember that in the foreseeable future.”Intertwining his fingers with yours, he pins your hand over your head. Softly he squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. A tender reminder, that both of you are here, together right now. In your mind, you know you both are tied together. There’s a pull that can’t be destroyed between the two of you, you can't make sense of it. It feels like you both have known eachother for lifetimes. Little did you know that's exactly what's happening.  Sylus has crossed galaxies, timelines, time and time again to find you. The bending of time or the fact that he's destined to lose you and find you again again is nothing. You are his love, the person his heart belongs to, he'll turn himself into a monster if it means seeing you once again.  Rising from on top of you he kneels on the floor. Once again snaking his big arms around the back of your knees and pulling your core towards his mouth. This is where I belong. Beneath you, you can do anything to me and I’d be grateful, you can command me to do anything and I’ll do it without a second thought. Ask and you shall receive.” He says while kissing your thighs.
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aurumalatus · 2 days
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𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟏]
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pairing. kinich x fem!reader
word count. 1.5k
genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, mentions of abuse/alcoholism
summary.
in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.
author's note. first meetings and a slight introduction to our characters! i imagine each drabble will have a pretty varying length, so this one is a bit on the shorter side! either way, i hope you enjoy :) interaction is highly appreciated!
↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣
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𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘
Kinich meets you in the spring.
The air is warm and balmy that day, with a breeze that brushes by the skin with pleasant coolness. His mother likes to take him to the market with her on days like these, probably for his own good. She tells him he’s a bit unsociable for his age, not that he disagrees—he just doesn’t see any point in changing. He does just fine spending his days at home, exploring the land around his house.
This kind of weather brings everyone outside, which leaves the market bustling—sellers scream their prices and show off their wares, and buyers haggle until their wallets are empty. He walks around with his mother for a bit, one hand gripping her skirt, and she offers him bits of candy and other treats. He rejects them all; really, he doesn’t want for much.
Still, he’s a more independent child, so eventually his mother leaves him to explore the various market stands while she goes around buying the more “boring” items. She probably hopes that he’ll make a friend or two, but he never does—most of the children don’t play in this area. They prefer to play with the Yumkasauri near the outskirts of the tribe.
Either way, he does end up looking around for a bit. Yanta, an elderly woman that sells fruit, gives him some berries to try, and he leaves with his tongue sweetened. He peers at some of the climbing gear, too, with astronomical prices that he would never be able to afford—at least not while his father gambles every Mora away. As the time passes, the crowd starts to get a bit stifling, so Kinich wanders away in search of a quieter place.
He settles for one of the walkways outside of the market, letting his legs dangle over the edge so he can look down at the river. There’s Yumkasauri whelps playing below, bumping each other into the water and screeching with joy. 
Laughter echoes from somewhere nearby—the sound of children, children like him. He tucks his knees to his chest. He has no need for friends, not when there is still so much to learn about the land. He thinks of his mother and the fresh welts on her skin. When he’s older, when he’s more capable, when he knows more, he can help her. Maybe one day they’ll be able to leave this place, or maybe just that man.
A burst of wind slips by—it carries the scent of flora, fuzzy yellow ones that make his eyes water and the purpling blooms that his mother loves. The recognition makes his head turn, just in time to see you run past him, a clump of flowers falling from your grip. You don’t seem to notice, and they fall uselessly to the wooden walkway, inches away from Kinich’s pinky. 
He eyes the flowers curiously—the petals are so bright, yet dainty and thin. Then, he looks toward your rapidly disappearing figure.
And really, he doesn’t know why he cares. He should go find his mom and go home. His father will be there soon anyway, and that’s a whole different beast to contend with; he doesn’t have the time or energy to be concerned with you. 
So he doesn’t really understand himself when he grabs the flowers, pushes himself to his feet, and jogs until your back is within his reach. Another step, and then his fingers wrap around your wrist just as you yelp in surprise. 
The first thought he has when you turn to face him is that you’re quite pretty, and that you look to be his age—he shakes it away just as fast. Instead, he nods toward the bundle of flowers sitting in your arms.
“You dropped some,” he mumbles, opening his palm to you. It reveals a pile of crushed petals and snapped stems, and his face reddens in embarrassment. He hadn’t thought to be so careful in his rush to chase you. When he looks up, your lips are barely parted in surprise, and he awkwardly tugs at his collar.
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
He’s not good at this, he realizes instantly. Years of sticking to his own have left his social skills lacking, and he grasps blindly for something to say. Instead, you’re the first to break the silence—you laugh, a bell-like sound that he finds a bit cute.
“Wow, I must’ve been going pretty fast,” you say, head tilted. “Sorry about that! My momma used to say I run like the wind!”
Kinich tries not to get stuck on the ‘used to’ in your words, but fails—he wonders if you’re alone. It must be difficult, he’s sure, but there are some nights when the stench of alcohol grows too strong and the screams grow too loud where he wonders if it might be preferable. He’s thinking too long, and the silence grows awkward, so he forces himself to speak.
“What are the flowers for?”
It’s your turn to be embarrassed now, an awkward giggle escaping your lips as you shift your weight between your feet. 
“I was thinking about making flower crowns for the other kids in the tribe. They don’t really like playing with me lately, maybe ‘cause I’m alone, so I wanted to do something so we could all be friends again.”
Kinich doesn’t really get it—what would be the point of playing with someone who doesn’t like you? Something about the situation tells him it wouldn’t be the right thing to say, though, so he merely nods. You seem genuine, and while he may be socially inept at times, he’s not mean-spirited. Quietly, however, he notes that the stems of the flowers you have are too long—you’d have trouble making flower crowns with these. 
“Have you ever made crowns before?” he asks, doubtful. 
“Nope,” you answer honestly, “is it that obvious?”
Living at the foot of the mountain meant he had become much more familiar with the nature surrounding the tribe. His mother had been teaching him a few things lately, particularly related to farming and weaving. A flower crown would be simple work, certainly. 
He frowns. He shouldn’t do this, but you’re looking at him so expectantly.
“I could show you how—”
“Kinich!”
His mother appears just then, cheeks reddened and hair sticking wildly to her forehead. Various bags hang from her arms, evidence of her shopping, but she casts them aside in favor of grabbing at his wrist. 
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I thought you got lost, or even kidnapped! What were you thinking? You’re not usually like this!”
You vaguely think that the two look quite alike; he has her eyes, save for the purpling bruise that sits just underneath her left one. You’ve had similar ones from banging your knees on things, but none in a place so front-facing.
Kinich hangs his head, stepping away from you quickly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Shame radiates from his form in waves, so potent you can practically feel it yourself. You grab his other wrist out of instinct, and he raises his eyes to you in surprise.
“I’m sorry too, ma’am,” you say. The woman looks shocked, gaze flitting to where your hand joins with his. “I was clumsy and took up too much of his time. It’s my fault if he was late.”
Kinich’s heart flips, and he’s unsure why—maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him like this, maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him at all. His mother looks just as flabbergasted as he does, only returning to her senses when she notices the setting sun. She sighs, addressing her son again.
“Your father will be home soon,” she says, retrieving her bags, and Kinich visibly stiffens. “We should go.”
Gentle, he twists his wrist from your grip, quietly following his mother as she starts to leave. There’s a similar sadness to the hunch of their backs, as if they’re dreading returning home—you wonder if you’re imagining it. Kinich, you remember his mother calling him. You like the sound of it.
“Kinich!” 
He turns at the call of his name, so unfamiliar from your lips. You’re smiling brightly, holding up two of the flowers you’d picked.
“Next time, teach me how to make a flower crown, okay?”
/
His mother doesn’t speak as they make the walk home. He lets the wind fill the silence, whistling through the trees and carrying him with its lulling sound. It’s one of the few pleasures he finds nowadays when he retreats outside, skin purpling with fresh bruises.
They inch the front door open, tentative and wincing, half-expecting his father to burst out in a drunken rage—they’re only met with silence. Relieved, Kinich’s mother sets about putting away the groceries, and Kinich collapses into bed, letting his eyes fall shut as the sun dims outside. He tries to savor the last few minutes he has, distantly praying that his father might come home sober today. 
He thinks of the market, and then he thinks of the flowers. He thinks about the flowers, and then he thinks about them some more—a little longer than is natural for him.
Just as he slips into sleep, Kinich realizes that he never asked for your name.
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bsdawgz · 2 days
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desperate sex with dazai please! you both had a long day at work and just wanted to indulge in each other. Both moaning messes as you cling onto him as he holds you. You don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable!
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JUST ONE MORE KISS ... armed detective agency: osamu dazai
a/n: anon, i LOVE THIS IDEA!!! you're also so sweet for being considerate of how i might feel. i hope u enjoy + that i did ok!!!
genre: nasty in a cutesy and domestic way
content: f!reader. MDNI! oral sex (f!receiving), pet names (angel, my sweet girl), the sex gets prety rough. he spits in your mouth once. some body worship (f!receiving). established relationship <3 cutesy at the end =)
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Pulling away from what was supposed to be a chaste greeting kiss proves more difficult than Dazai would have ever imagined. He finds himself leaving your lips swollen, his own sweetened by the saccharine taste of your mouth melting on his tongue. It's not that you're complaining, though. His warmth is more than welcome, especially after a day as long as this one. You linger where he left you, if only just to bask in the heat of his body for a moment longer. A moment before you return to the mundane – take out the trash, prepare dinner, hang the laundry out to dry. Such menial tasks must be done whether you like it or not, no matter how exhausting work has been today. Truly, you ought to start on them now. Surely, Dazai also has had a tiring day and has chores to get to at home as well. And yet...
"Just one more kiss," he hums absently, as if reading your mind. He's always been good at knowing exactly what to say and when to say it. He's also always been an exceptional liar. When he leans in to kiss you, it's clear that just one won't be enough tonight. Not that he was trying to convince you otherwise, anyway. Then, in a heated whisper that's pressed to the base of your neck, "You know how greedy I am."
You shiver as his lips caress you; so soft, so loving, his mouth so inviting as it closes in on yours. His hand meets your waist, the other stroking the side of your neck, rearranging the tendrils of hair that frame your face. "Is it wrong of me to want more than just this?" he muses, tracing the plump of your lips with his thumb, watching in awe as you part your mouth instinctively to take in his fingers. "I missed my sweet girl at work today."
Leaning in for another kiss, you seal your lips against his, letting him guide you backward until you feel your body press against the brick wall of your cozy apartment. You can feel Dazai's teasing smile through his kiss as he hikes your skirt up, grabbing the plush of your upper thigh and trailing his fingers along your sensitive skin. You writhe and squirm, seeking the warmth of his hand, the sweetness of his touch, and those delicate fingers that you want to feel inside you. "Dazai, please."
He relents – of course, anything for his sweet angel. You feel him push your panties to the side, tracing your folds with his fingers. "God, you're wet," he murmurs, and you can hear the sheer satisfaction in ragged tone of his voice and feel it in the way it makes him grip your waist tighter. Still, you blush profusely, flustered by the fact he's pointed it out so plainly. "My sweet, needy girl," he whispers, stroking the side of your cheek lovingly. "Let's take good care of each other tonight~"
The sight of Dazai getting on his knees for you is always a precious one; and for Dazai, seeing you from this angle is one of this favorites. Though, to be fair, he finds the reverse just as arousing. You make quick work of the buttons of your shirt as Dazai unzips your skirt, slowly peeling your panties down your hips. "That's my needy little angel," he teases, "Wanting me to please her already..."
You hold your breath, gazing down at him with your lips parted as he lovingly places kisses up your thigh. Then, you gasp aloud, feeling the tip of his tongue prod inside you. You reach for his hand immediately, seeking the comfort and warmth of his skin, squeezing his palm tight as you feel the cold wetness of his tongue encircle your clit. He moans hungrily against your heat, lapping at your arousal. His name sounds so perfect in your mouth, he thinks, and as the syllables spill out of you, he can't help but glance up to admire the shape your lips form when you say his name. You'd sound much sweeter with his fingers inside you, he muses as he eases his index into your aching hole, smirking at the way you pulse and the way you stammer out his name once more. "Say it just like that," he coos.
You need him more than ever, "Dazai, Dazai" relentless on your lips as you desperately grind against his hand. "Kiss me," you plead. Tonight, your boyfriend isn't so much of a sadist as to deny your requests; tonight, he'll treat you well – just as promised.
Of course, you'll treat him just as well.
"Take it out," you moan as into his shoulder, unbuttoning his vest and dress shirt with haste, leaving them a mess on the floor to deal with later. "Please. Let me touch you, too."
He nods fervently, undoing his belt with a clatter, then he lowers his slacks just enough for you to reach clumsily into his boxers, where you find him pulsing with need, the tip leaking with precum. Then, he sighs with pleasure, seething with desire as you wrap your fingers around the shaft, throbbing in your hand as you stroke him.
This time, it's him who says, "please," his voice raspy in your ear as he leans in once more, locking lips with you and capturing your moans in his mouth as he curls his fingers deep inside you. Thrusting his pelvis forward to meet each of your strokes, he guides your fingers up and down his shaft with his other hand as he tries to get off on the feeling of being fucked by your fist. “Please,” he pants, breath strained as his hips stutter, as his knees begin to give. “Let me fuck you…”
You nod, and he’s frantically shuffling through his messenger bag for a condom, then tossing you down on your mattress. It’s feels like not even a minute more until he’s shoving himself inside you, groaning as he buries himself between your slick folds. You take him in – all of him, all at once, crying out his name when he starts to snap his hips into you. He’s greedy, so greedy, each thrust faster and harder than the one before. And you want it; you want more, more;
“More.”
You hook your legs around his narrow waist, clawing at his back, scratching at his spine and urging him to fuck you deeper. Dazai's panting into your shoulder, brown bangs falling beautifully into his eyes as he ruts into you like an animal desperate for relief – because for you he is, lips parted as he gasps, as his hand slithers around your neck, fingers squeezing just tight enough to deprive you of enough oxygen that you feel yourself grow dizzy. You kiss him hotly, just as fervently, biting his lips and drinking his moans into your open mouth, clinging to him as his fingers leave your neck. As they slip between your thighs, gathering the wetness between your legs where you're aching for him, where you're so wet that you're dripping onto the sheets beneath your sweaty bodies. You shut your eyes.
Fuck work tomorrow –
This is all you need. Dazai, Dazai, Dazai.
The laundry chime goes off, but you can hardly hear it with the buzz in your ears – "Close."
"Me too."
– Take me to heaven and back.
It's you who comes first, convulsing in Dazai's arms; and you don't feel him slow at all, not even a little bit, just feel his spit fill your mouth, saliva trickling down your chin as he grabs you tighter, as he forces your legs over his shoulders and fucks you even harder until you can barely form thoughts, let alone words –
and you split open, body searing with pain, yet you can't help but grind your hips against his fingers as you teeter on the verge of a second orgasm. You sob out yes, yes, yes, thighs trembling as you gasp for him, as you plead for him to bring you there once more. You spasm, then you feel him spill into you with one final thrust, grabbing you and pulling you tight against his body lovingly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders because god, does he need you closer than ever right now.
Then, he rolls onto his side. Buries his face into your shoulder. Nuzzles his nose into your neck. His lips brush along the shell of your ear. "One more kiss. You know how greedy I am," he whispers, interlocking his fingers with yours. "Then we can order take-out."
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© BSDAWGZ Please don't steal or reblog! That's plagiarism! If you enjoyed the fic, likes and reblogs are always appreciated! ദ്ദി(。•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ Beautiful dividers by @ v6que!
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sgtpeppers · 3 days
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Okay so the quick version of this is: saw Two Of Us today, adored it even more than I adore the film, the choice to keep them in John's building worked really well to further highlight the mental health message the director talks about in his little note in the programme, the rooftop scene is somehow even more intimate and lovely in this version and the ending is even more painful! I'm gonna write down more under the cut about it all:
Playlist: The playlist before the show/during the interval is everything you would want it to be and it includes Monkberry Moon Delight which I feel like I never hear in public! 
The overall experience was also just super wholesome, one thing I always love about Beatles events is the range of people there it just makes you feel like your part of such a special thing, so shout out to all the old women talking about Paul near me, the middle aged men in their Beatles shirts, and the girl behind me who was sooo excited to be there and I hope she got to meet the cast after like she wanted to! ALSO the Beatles drinks are so funny, idk why Ringo’s is just earl grey tea 😭
Performances: OKAY let’s get into it. So one of my only real complaints about the film is that although I think overall Jared Harris and Aiden Quinn do an amazing job but I do find the quality a little inconsistent (especially the accents) but Richard Short and Barry Sloane are soooo so good, the accents, the little verbal quirks (which also, kudos to the writer as well) and the physicalities are jarringly good at points, especially Barry Sloane’s John. I also feel like a lot of Get Back was watched in preparation because there were so many little things, like the way John plays with his hair that just took me right back to that. Sometimes with fictional Beatles things I’m constantly thinking about how you’re watching two people try to portray these real people, but I definitely found that they were convincing enough that I wasn’t thinking about it too much. 
Outfits: I did find it kinda weird they went for the Get Back looks rather than how they looked in 76, I feel robbed of the New York City vest tbh but they did look great 
Changes from the film: basically they cut out them going for the walk to the park and to Luigi’s and instead John sets up the table for them like they’re in a restaurant in his kitchen. I think it works really well because they play into John not wanting to leave the building, which just adds into that whole mental health thing, and I think it actually makes the rooftop scene more poignant when they get there, because it feels more like Paul has broken through a bit and coaxed him outside, even if it’s baby steps. Anyway, they still have all the same conversations really the script is just chopped up a bit. 
One interesting thing is that the conversation that happens with the fan in Luigi’s still happens, but John sort of pesters Paul about whether he really thinks silly love songs should be number one, and it’s a nice extra layer to Paul’s insecurity which I enjoyed 
Mental health conversations: I think going into it knowing that the director wanted to make this because of the mental health themes, specifically men’s mental health and how having someone to reach out to is so important, is really interesting. They definitely amped up John’s anxiety from the film, his fidgeting and little moments to himself where he’s trying to get himself together were just so palpable, and Paul talking about his depression after the Beatles broke up was even more raw and upsetting seeing it in front of you. My absolute favourite line in the film is ‘I’m thirty-five years old and I still feel like I’ve done something wrong’ and god, my heart just broke seeing it on stage, I think that’s such a common feeling, just that sense that you’re in trouble for something but you’re not really sure what? Anyway, I just loved Sloane’s delivery of it. 
The Kiss: Okay, look I actually don’t care that much about the kiss in the film, I’m glad it’s in there as a little nod to John’s queerness but it really isn’t anything imo, but I liked it a lot more in this! For one thing rather than coming after a little play fight (which is still cute, don’t get me wrong) they do one of their silly dances where they’re spinning each other round etc, so the scene already feels more tender, and then John just kinda grabs him and it goes on a little longer than in the film. I still think it’s far from one of the most intimate moments in the show, but I do think they made it into something more here. 
Rooftop scene: It’s just. It’s everything. They sit right at the front of the stage, facing each other, cross legged and Paul gives him the whole ‘I see a beautiful baby boy speech’ and it’s PERFECT, this was the moment I was most worried about them screwing up and it was perfectly delivered and they have this lovely big hug after it and it made my heart ache in the best way. And idk, if seeing some guy dressed up as Paul McCartney saying that we should focus on fun and get out our own heads and how we don’t have to stay stuck as the kids who were just scared and trying to survive, doesn’t do something for you, then we’re just very different people. 
SNL scene: okay it’s pretty much the same but the way John is sleeping on Paul was everything, it wasn’t just a head on the shoulder he was fully laying back against Paul!! 
The ending: this is just so brutal because Paul doesn’t leave the flat to get his guitar, he borrows one of John’s and so when Yoko calls and John starts doing the whole ‘I wish you were here, you’re the only one who stops me disappearing’ it’s literally…. In Paul’s face. And it hurts. Then at the very end they cut between John on the phone to Yoko and Paul on the phone to Linda, and so Paul says ‘I love you’ to Linda, then John says ‘I love you too’ to Yoko but it sounds like they said it to each other, and then Here Today plays. The fact most people didn’t appear to be crying baffled me quite frankly. 
Yoko: They decided to have Yoko be the one who actually invited Paul, which felt like an odd choice and didn’t really add anything for me, but there we go 
Okay I’m gonna shut up there because this is way too long and I doubt anyone’s read it but ahhhhhhhhh it was so good and you’re just all lucky I can’t text you because my friends have had much more incoherent versions of all this
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amyelevenn · 2 days
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All I know is that you drove us off the road
PAIRING; Oscar Piastri x driver!reader
SUMMARY; Oscar insists on taking you to the airport after a race, but faces engine problems on the way there.
WARNINGS; none really - mainly fluff! maybe a car breaking down?
A/N; I really enjoyed writing this! let me know any thoughts and feelings are always appreciated!
1.8k words masterlist
.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.
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.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.
“No, please. I can make my own way to the airport, Piastri,” you laugh, giving him a shit eating grin at his implication. “I can drive, ya know.”
It was the Monday after the Melbourne Grand Prix; it wasn’t a particularly notable race for either of you, despite you both finishing in point scoring positions. It wasn’t an overly entertaining race; no flags or spectacular overtakes from anyone in particular.
“You were drunk last night, not sure you should be driving,” he grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes.
A couple drinks were consumed the night before at a local bar Oscar’s friends had told you about. It wasn’t much, not overly busy on a random Sunday night in March. It allowed for some kind of anonymity, something that was quickly becoming a foreign concept to you.
You shove his shoulder, giggling as you feign anger. “I had two drinks! In what world does that classify as being drunk?”
Oscar rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a happy chuff. “Please, come to the airport with me. I’m going that way anyway!”
It’s hard not to deadpan at him; you may not have been a local, but you knew well enough that the Melbourne Airport wasn’t exactly near anything else. It was well over an hour from the city, where he was claiming to be headed.
“Osc, just accept the no,” you half beg, beginning to roll your suitcase away from him and towards where your team were gathered. You almost manage to take two steps before his hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back in his direction.
He had miscalculated how close you would end up being to him – you were mere inches away from his face, bodies all but pressed against each other.
“I insist. Let me take you to the airport, love,” he mutters, with an air of intimacy that came with the proximity.
You hadn’t realised you were holding your breath in anticipation until your body forced you to sigh. Finally, you give in to his insistence, silently nodding in acceptance. He takes a second, closely examining your face, before moving in the direction of his car. your face heats up ever so slightly, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach not something you were wanting to experience.
You are just friends, a little voice screams in the back of your mind. But the way he looks at you makes you wonder – what if there could be something more?
You were quick with your goodbyes to your team, informing them Oscar had pestered your walls down enough to convince you to ride with him. You comically exaggerate it as much as you can, making him into some sort of creepy guy who doesn’t leave you alone until you finally agree to go out with him. They all laugh, hard, which confuses you until a hand taps on your shoulder, revealing the man himself standing awkwardly behind you.
You excuse yourself from the group, laughter echoing behind you as you and Oscar walk away, his teasing grin matching your own.
“You really think I’m some annoying loser?” he teases, bumping his elbow into yours as you enter the hotel carpark. You barely even notice his hand resting softly on the small of your back as he guides you towards his car.
“Ha ha,” you sarcastically laugh, purposely losing all tone from your voice. He shakes his head as he silently giggles to himself, opening the passenger door for you. You thank him faintly, making a mental note of his little actions that have really established him at the respectful, gentlemanly one on the grid; and rightfully so.
Getting in himself, he revs the engine before pulling away from the crowded midday carpark. A soft silence envelops you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the radio. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor foreign, sitting in the quiet of each other’s presence. In fact, the tranquillity was a welcomed constant in your ever busy careers.
You had known Oscar for a couple years now, and he was one of the few drivers who actively went out of his way to maintain a positive relationship off the track, despite your lives depending on besting the other ever odd weekend.
As the car navigated the city’s complex grid, the beauty of Albert Park in autumn faded from view, leaving you in awe of the towering Melbournian metropolis—a testament to human ingenuity that always amazed you.
“You drove really well yesterday,” he gives, not necessarily trying to fill the comfortable silence.
“Thank you, Osc. It was certainly better than the crash I had in Bahrain!” you laugh, beginning to find it increasingly hard to ignore his constant glances over to you. “You drove a great race too! That overtake of Leclerc was really quite something.”
He sighs, dismissing the comment as if it meant nothing. He tried so hard to act nonchalant on the surface, but internally? He adored hearing any praise you had for him, even if it wasn’t directly from you, but instead Lando or the PR manager telling him you said ‘Osc is so beyond talented!’
It didn’t take much for you to compliment him, which was the best part; he was always doing something amazing that prompted telling him just how good he was, or how lucky he had gotten that day, or how cool his special livery looked.
Even it was miniscule, you always had a comment for him that would make his day.
You hadn’t even noticed the car slowing to a stop, pulling over on the side of some random suburban road until you were at a full stop, the engine beginning to smoke under the hood.
“Oscar what the hell have you done…” you raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Uh, I’m not sure but I reckon we should maybe get out of the car,” he stutters, pushing himself out of his side before opening the hood to assess the severity of the situation.
You shook your head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of your situation. Here you are, stuck on the side of the road, while a Formula 1 driver fumbles under the hood. Talk about irony.
It was difficult, watching him rattle around underneath the hood when he clearly had no expertise here and not laugh your ass off. “This feels like…some sort of karma for forcing me to ride with you. I thought you knew how to drive?” you finally laugh, the ludicrosity of it all hitting you like a brick wall.
You couldn’t help but chuckle as you watched him struggle – maybe he needed more than a racing licence to handle car troubles.
“Hey, i didn’t twist your arm to get in, love,” he huffs. “And I am an amazing driver, thank you so very much.” He tries to stifle the smile breaking out on his face, but you notice it before it got hidden away.
Before you are able to retaliate, a middle-aged couple emerges from the house you had broken down in front of.
“You fellas alright?” the man asks, pushing the gate outwards so they have a better vantage point over the smoking vehicle.
“We are so sorry, are we in the way?” you ask, putting on a sympathetic show that you had become so used to having for the fans. “We were just about to call for help, they shouldn’t take too long to get here.”
“Nah mate, they’ll take foreva to get ‘ere and cost ya an arm an’ a leg. Let me help youse,” he offers, but doesn’t allow you the option as he waddles over to where Oscar is still hunched over.
The woman moves to stand next to you, introducing herself, Kristyn, and her husband, Mitch. You give yours in return, to which she compliments you on your name. “’ve never met one before,” she muses, repeating your name gently under her breath to herself.
You smile softly, making light small talk as Mitch explains to Oscar what is at fault with the engine.
“You two seem like a gorgeous couple. How long’ve you been datin’?” she asks, not noticing the caught-off-guard expression you have on your face.
You feel heat rush to your cheeks as she compliments you, your heart racing at the unexpected attention. It almost bugs you more than you would have anticipated, a sense of embarrassment creeping along your flushed skin.
You ponder telling her the truth, that you aren’t together, but figure it would be easier to go along with it, for her and your sake.
“Almost a year now, yeah,” you smile, feigning a sense of admiration for your ‘boyfriend.’
“Aw, bless your sweet young hearts,” she hums, gently patting your shoulder as if to say you had her approval. It was weird, but it felt nice to have her endorsement of a relationship that wasn’t even real. Maybe you wanted more with Oscar?
You nod along, answering any and all of her follow up questions about him, like how you met, how he asked you out, if marriage was on the table. You almost enjoyed making up a whole story for her, weaving this intricate narrative for her to invest herself in. the pair of you had gotten so caught up in each other that you hadn’t noticed the car being put back together, Mitch reviving the engine in approval of a job well done.
“Well, at least he isn’t the only one who can’t handle car troubles!” you muse, laughing with Kristyn as the boys make their way over to you.
Mitch wraps a lose arm around his wife, and you follow his lead as you intertwine your own around Oscars waist, to which he accepts with no questions.
“Thank you so much for your troubles,” he murmurs. “Can i give you some money or something? It’s the least we could do.”
The couple scoff in sync, laughing at the idea of being paid for merely helping out a stranger. “Nah, we don’t want your dough mate. Just don’t blow the car up, that’ll be enough.”
“Are you sure? Please, let us compensate you in some way, as a thank you,” you suggest.
“Maybe you should drive instead of him, aye?” Kristyn laughs, breaking the four of you into a fit of giggles. You nod in agreement, to which Oscar immediately shoots down with the reason of it’s his car.
“Well, thank you again for your help. We really appreciate it.” Oscar squeezes your shoulders, then releases you as he walks over to the passenger side to open it for you. It wasn’t until then that you realised how much you had been leaning into his side, missing the warmth of him almost immediately. You say your goodbyes, telling them it was really nice to meet them, and one final thank you for their kindness.
As you drive on, laughter spilling between you, you can’t help but think maybe this unexpected detour was just what you needed to explore what’s brewing beneath the surface.
.・。.・゜✭・♥︎・✫・゜・。.
as always, feedback is appreciated!
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lexirosewrites · 2 days
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so i was driving to work the other day, taking the exact same route that i always take, and i passed a sign i see every single day. but for some reason, this particular day, i was hit so hard by a steddie thought that i instantly had to jot it down when i pulled into the parking lot of my job. i haven't stopped thinking about it actually, so i made it omegaverse and decided to send it in for slick sunday. this is VERY loosely based off something that happened in my own hometown a couple years ago. (also, for reference, the sign i saw was for a local business called munson construction, so the following thoughts make a lot of sense actually)
a!eddie and (possibly) b!wayne have a construction company. they don't a ton of business, but they make enough to pay the bills and put food on the table. they by no means live a life of luxury, but they're comfortable where they're at. plus, they enjoy what they do.
so, onto plot.
living in indiana, they don't get nearly as many tornadoes as some other states, but it does happen. one spring, hawkins gets hit hard. a lot of houses are completely leveled, even more are severely damaged. lives were lost. it absolutely devastates the entire community. so many families are homeless now. it doesn't take wayne and eddie long to decide that they're going to do whatever they can to help rebuild. they were fortunate enough to make it out on the other side generally unscathed. the worst they got was some damage from a tree falling on their roof, but it was a quick and easy fix for them. they know not everyone was so lucky. they want to do their part.
eddie doesn't expect it to change his entire life.
they start at the emergency refuge shelter. rows and rows of cots set up in the community center for those who either lost their homes completely, or have damages that make it inhabitable until repair. eddie is hardly one step in the door before he's drawn to a certain family. he elbows wayne and nods to the far side of the room. a baby is crying, being held and rocked by perhaps the prettiest omega eddie had ever seen. he needs to talk to him, even if it's only once.
as he and wayne approach, it becomes more and more obvious just how stressed the omega is. he rocks and bounces the child on his hip, desperately attempting to soothe. nothing seems to be working, though. the baby is still screaming, and people are staring. eddie's honestly feels really bad for the guy, who looks so overwhelmed and on the verge of tears. eddie can't just stand by and do nothing. he steps in, offering to help.
basically, from there, eddie learns that the omega (steve, duh) is a single parent who lost pretty much everything to the tornado. he and his daughter have been staying at the shelter, trying to figure out how he's going to get them back on their feet. obviously, eddie is in love instantly, and he is determined to take care of them in whatever way steve will let him. there's some back and forth probably, but eventually, steve also falls in love and they court and get married and blah blah blah happily ever after the end.
(a nice addition: post-marriage & mating, eddie builds steve a dream house by hand, where they grow their family and fill the home with love and support and all that good stuff)
ANYWAY, happy slick sunday :))
ahhhhh so cute!!!!🥺💕
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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 9 hours
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⋆⁺₊❅. “Give you...whatever you need!"⋆⁺₊❅.
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synopsis: being the captains assistant ;)
tags: lots of possessiveness, manipulation (?), power dynamics, dom capitano, vulgar, explicit, fingering, facefucking, begging, degradation, penetration, creampie, you get the gist
wrd cnt: 2.5k
a/n: doja cat pls release generous ( lyrics from the song as title) and my life is YOURS… also partly inspired by the azeru audio….
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Drip. Drip. Drip.
Droplets of a custom blend of his favorite drink, warm and slightly sweet hit the bottom of a porcelain cup.
It was just something you did, something you knew The Captain liked and as his assistant, routinely did.
This particular evening it was as if everyone in the nation needed you. A task, an errand, or just had to stop you in your tracks to his quarters for some idle chat.
It must have been several minutes longer than when he was expecting you, which was far too long to keep the Captain waiting; occupied against your will.
His tea was cold by now.
Finally, you ran over to his door. The runway-like carpet ending and small tiles lining the entryway to his office, guarded and sealed.
But you were a regular.
The guard knocked on the door, “Sir, your assistant has returned” he announced, waiting for an answer.
It took a few seconds, but you could hear a faint “Let her in”.
You sigh deeply and watch the giant doors open and shut behind you as you walk into the dimly lit room, only candles and small lamps lit across the table and crackling fireplace that remained behind The Captain’s seated body.
“Over and Over. I must have called you a thousand times? More or less.” He spoke, his voice clear even through the steel mask that adorned his face.
“I’m so sorry-“ You quickly respond, placing the cup on the edge of his desk and folding your hands together. “I got caught up with some others- a few harbingers as well needed my assistance.”
He straightened his legs, now standing in front of you, making you back up just slightly due to his large frame.
“It’s as if you’ve forgotten who you serve.” He said, the point of his gauntlet nail scratching the edge of your jaw and trailing down to your chin.
“Who kept you so long?” He asked, quickly adding “Never mind. Don’t tell me, I’d rather not know.”
You have trouble knowing where to look. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for yourself.
“Now that you’re here…maybe we should get started. You’ll probably need to stay overnight.” He mentioned.
You nod, agreeably to not seem like you’re eager to leave.
You sorted out all the intel Capitano had been collecting. There were piles of data, equipment, maps, and so much more. You were the only person he’d let touch them. It was common for you to stay late, as work never seems to dry out. It was also common for you to be whatever he wanted you to be. Errand runner, liaison…or his toy to let out his frustrations.
Everyone sees The Captain for what he puts on. Respectable and professional.
Most of the fatui honestly confess to enjoying working for him, as he has been much kinder than the others.
He can be, but he has his limits.
How can he be so kind to you when you’re late? You dared to keep him waiting.
“This is unlike you.” He says, noticing you yawn as you flip through the pages.
You blink your eyes a second too long, “Oh- I’m sorry I haven’t gotten much sleep, but I can keep working! Please don’t worry”. You assure.
“ I’m not worried, not for myself anyway.” He adds, kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk.
“Come here.” He urges you, forcing you to get off your small little table in the corner to his desk.
He flicks just one finger and you follow, taunting you to his lap.
“Yes- Captain?” You feel your throat get dry as you sit on his thigh, big enough to count as a seat.
“Is there anything…you need from me?” You ask, insinuating a more personal form of assistance.
He hikes his foot up higher on the table, creating a steep slope of his legs that drags you down and forces you into the crook of your lap, hands instinctively hitting his chest for balance.
“This isn’t for me. I think we need to wake you up.”
You felt a small shiver run up your spine when his hands landed on your hips, “How else will you finish all your work?” He adds.
You let out a small sigh as you felt his steel-clad fingers wrapping around your sides as if your ribs were now armored.
He slowly dragged them down your stomach, small points sliding down the sides of your thighs making you arch your back and grind onto his lap, earning a chuckle from him.
With swift motion, he grabs your throat; dropping his mask on the floor and letting it roll off somewhere.
Your body tenses, and you can see the most faint glimpses of his face; still hidden under the darkness of the room.
Deep and rich, he speaks to you, “Take off your clothes.”
Almost as if he’d conditioned your mind, you do so with no complaints.
He even helps, tugging up your shirt with the finger tip of his gauntlets as you pull it off. As your shirt falls to the floor, you stand before him in just your bra and skirt, your heart pounding in your chest. He doesn't waste any time, his hands moving to your back, deftly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. The straps slide down your arms, and your breasts spill free, bouncing lightly as they are finally released. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, exposed and vulnerable.
"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Now the rest."
You slip your skirt down, letting it pool at your feet, and step out of it.
You stand there, naked and vulnerable, your breath hitching as Capitano's fingers trace the curve of your hips. His touch is firm yet deliberate, each movement sending shivers down your spine. Shadows play across his muscular frame, making him appear even more imposing as he pulls you back onto his lap, each leg now dangling off his sides.
"Spread your legs," he commands, his voice low and gravelly. The steel in his tone leaves no room for disobedience.
You hesitate for a brief moment, but the intensity in his dark blue eyes compels you to comply. You part your thighs, positioning yourself in his lap. The heat between your legs is almost unbearable, a stark contrast to the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your folds, another hand squeezing your breasts between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp, arching into his touch, your body betraying how much you crave his attention.
"Please..." you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you.
He leans forward, his mouth closing around your nipple, suckling hard enough to make you cry out.
His teeth graze the tender flesh, sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you.
You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the tough material of his armor, as he moves to your other breast, repeating the process. Each pull of his lips, each scrape of his teeth, makes you shudder, your body responding eagerly to his rough ministrations.
"Captain..." you moan, your voice breaking as he continues his assault on your senses and his gentle strokes around your inner thigh, purposefully ignoring your sensitive pearl.
He pulls back, leaving you panting and desperate for more. His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. "Turn around," he orders, his voice firm and commanding.
You obey, swinging your leg over and turning your back to him…well, it’s more of him picking up your entire weight and shifting you into position.
As you automatically reach for the edge of the desk to steady yourself, he lifts himself off his seat, stepping close to your body, his presence looming behind you, his heat radiating against your bare skin. You feel his hands on your ass, squeezing the globes roughly, spreading them apart to expose your most intimate parts. Your breath hitches as you anticipate what's coming next.
"Look at you," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me." He adds, flicking his arm down to release his hand from the gauntlet, thudding on the floor just as his last piece of equipment.
“Is this what you were thinking about in that little corner of yours?” He teases.
His fingers trail down, skin grazing the crease where your thighs meet your ass, dipping lower until they brush against your wet folds. You gasp, your knees buckling slightly as he slips one finger inside you, probing deeply. You clench around him, your muscles instinctively tightening, drawing him deeper.
"You're so, so wet," he murmurs, his finger sliding in and out of you, slowly building up speed. "Such a good girl."
Your head falls forward, your forehead resting on the cool surface of the desk as you ride out the sensations he's unleashing on your body. His cold finger flicks against your clit, making you jerk and whimper, your hips swaying involuntarily as you try to get more friction. "Beg for it," he demands, removing his finger and resting it on your hips.
"Please... Captain, please," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "I want more... I need you..."
He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "Not yet," he says, "But soon."
You whine in protest, your body aching for release, but he grabs your hips.
"On your knees," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.
You drop to your knees, your hands trembling as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly. You undo his pants, pushing them down to reveal his hardened length, already glistening with pre-cum.
You lick your lips, your mouth watering at the sight of him.
"Take me in your mouth," he orders, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "Show me how much you want it."
You obey, wrapping your lips around his throbbing cock, sucking gently as you take him deep into your throat. He groans, his hands tightening in your hair as you bob your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him with each pass. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, his hips thrusting gently to meet your movements.
"Fuck... yes," he mutters, his voice strained with effort. "Suck it like you mean it."
You redouble your efforts, taking him deeper, your throat convulsing around him as you gag slightly.
He tastes amazing, salt and iron, the essence of his power and dominance filling your senses. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard as you stroke the base of his shaft with your hand, listening to the sounds of his grunts and moans above you.
"That's it," he praises, his fingers digging into your scalp. "Just like that... almost there...you’re working so hard"
His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breathing heavy and labored. You know he's close, can feel the tension building in him, and you work harder, your jaw aching from the effort.
Suddenly, he lets out a low growl, his fingers yanking your head back as he comes, his hot seed flooding your mouth.
You swallow dutifully, licking him clean as he pulls out of your mouth, his chest heaving with exertion.
He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and smirks. "Up," he commands, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm.
You do as told, standing up and facing him, your legs shaky from being on your knees for so long. He grabs your wrist, yanking you towards the desk, and pushes you onto it, your chest pressing against the cool wood. You gasp, your nipples rubbing against the rough surface, sending jolts of sensation through your body.
He kneels behind you, his hands roaming over your ass, squeezing and caressing the flesh before diving between your legs once more. His fingers find your drenched entrance, slipping inside with ease, pumping in and out with increasing speed.
You moan, your head falling back as his other hand circles your clit, rubbing it furiously.
"That’s it…keep making those sounds," he whispers, "So fucking wet for me. You need more, don’t you?”
You nod, unable to form words, your body consumed by the pleasure he's giving you. His rough hands continue to pleasure you, painting your ass red with just a single slap.
“Answer me.” He says, waiting for your begging voice before pressing his hard length into your ass.
“Yes- please….please Capitano.” You whimper.
You can almost feel the smirk that’s plastered on his face behind you. He lines himself up, his tip teasing your entrance, dipping just enough to coat himself in your slick arousal. You shiver at the contact, your body tensing in anticipation. Then, without warning, he presses forward, his cock sliding partway into your tight channel before pausing.
"Relax," he commands, his voice firm. "Give yourself to me completely."
You try to relax, breathing deeply, but the stretch is overwhelming. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he begins to push deeper, filling you inch by agonizing inch. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, your muscles clenching around him as he forces his way inside.
"That's it," he whispers, his voice strained. "Take it all, my little slut."
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he's buried deep inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. You gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the fullness, by the sheer dominance of his presence within you. It's almost too much, but somehow, it's exactly what you need.
Capitano doesn't wait for you to adjust. With a low growl, he pulls back until only his tip remains, then thrusts forward again, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force. You cry out, your hands clutching at the desk for support as he claims you over and over again. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your head spin and your vision blur.
"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "So tight, so perfect."
His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. He fucks into your at a monstrous pace, your body going limp. He picks you up, holding your neck firm from behind.
“Arch your fucking back.” He growls, roughly handling you into position. You can feel the tension building in him, the same tension that's coiling inside you, tightening with every thrust, every caress. You're close, so close, but he's not done with you yet.
He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a low rumble.
You obey, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wild, filled with lust and possession. He looks at you as if you're his world, his everything, and in this moment, you believe it.
"You're mine," he whispers, “Anytime another person- another damn harbinger calls for you- shit” He groans, “…tell them to fuck off. Captain’s order?” his voice thick with emotion. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, I will-!" you breathe, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
His hand slides down to your clit again, his fingers rubbing in fast, desperate circles. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you scream his name as you come undone, your body convulsing around his cock. He follows right behind you, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave, filling you with his warmth.
You’ve never served Capitano with a cold cup of tea again.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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starlostastronaut · 2 days
Text
SURPRISE TO GO
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kim seungmin × reader - fluff, non idol au, coffee shop au, barista!seungmin - 1.1k
summary - seungmin spends his birthday working because his friends are busy. but are they really?
links - masterlist
yall i finally finished this. i forgot about seung's birthday and none of my drafts felt right so i wrote this quickly today. it's still 22nd in korea so i'm still on time. happy seungmin day! happy birthday my love! <333
no proofread and written in hurry. i hope you still enjoy and let me know your thoughts! <3
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The bell rang above your head as you entered the small café. There were not many people inside at this hour. It was nearing the evening and the café was slowly going to sleep, people leaving and employees cleaning the emptying tables. You looked over the place, your eyes stopping at the coffee station. There he was, busy with preparing drinks and looking stupidly hot while doing it. Nope, focus, not the time for that now.
You felt it was a crime to make Seungmin work on his birthday, but volunteered anyway, when another barista called in that morning with food poisoning. When you asked why he did it, he just replied why not, the extra money was always worth it and his friends were busy anyway today.
Which was true. But not for the reason Seungmin thought. Ever since this morning, your secret group chat was blowing up with things going wrong. First the cake you ordered arrived damaged, then the restaurant canceled on you at the last minute… it was always something. Even now, you felt your phone constantly buzzing in your pocket.
You found yourself at a quiet corner table, where Seungmin wouldn't immediately see you from where he was and you took out your phone, dreading whatever catastrophe was awaiting you. Rolling your eyes at the chat name (seriously, who let Hyunjin name it?) you opened the messages.
SEUNGMINNIE'S BIRTHDAY BONANZA CLUB
sunshine baby sent a photo
sunshine baby: me and minho-hyung just saved the day!!
work of ART: wow the cake looks amazing lix
work of ART: me and changbin-hyung are almost done with wrapping the presents
work of ART: btw who's idea was it to do everything with pochacco paper? i hate that damn dog now he's everywhere 😭
devil bunny: stop being dramatic hyunjin you volunteered 🙄
DAD(dy): karaoke reservation for 7pm confirmed
DAD(dy): get your asses here and help innie with decorating
Oh. Finally some good news. You quickly responded to the guys, deciding on when to bring Seungmin to the karaoke. Checking the time, you realized you had about an hour left before Seungmin's shift ends and you need to somehow get him to the karaoke, where there is a surprise party waiting for him. Hopefully. But you trusted Chan that he can handle his six chaotic kids and nothing would go wrong again.
Deciding to make your presence known, you walked up to the counter. “Hey Seung,” you said, leaning your forearms on the counter as you checked the menu. “I'll have… whatever this is.” You pointed to the picture of this month's special drink, not daring to guess what was inside. But it looked big and complicated enough to hopefully fill some of the hour you had.
“Y/N.” Seungmin looked up in surprise, his lips immediately stretching into a soft smile when he saw it was you. He looked almost surprised to see you there. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see my favourite boy,” you smiled. “And because he's working today…” You looked up, your eyes meeting his. Looking into Seungmin's eyes was always an experience. His dark, deep, chocolate eyes held the stars of the universe in them and you often found yourself weak to the love you saw when he looked at you. Sometimes, it took all your willpower to not avert your gaze. It felt like a bright beam of the sun, blinding and warm at the same time. And you weren't backing now.
If Seungmin's coworker was here, he would have by now uttered some ridiculous comment about the very obvious tension and to get a room. Luckily for you, Jongho was cleaning up spilled coffee, facing away from you.
“I wouldn't drink that if I were you,” Seungmin chuckled. What? Oh right, you were ordering a drink.
“Why not? It looks… fun?”
“It's disgusting as fuck.” Seungmin quickly looked around, letting out a relieved sigh when his manager was nowhere to be seen. “Our manager keeps coming up with insane things, but it went downhill after the first one. I'll make you your usual?” he offers instead.
You chuckled at his answer. He was the expert here. “Sure, thank you baby.”
Seungmin winked at you and began making your usual order. Moving away to not stand in the way but to have a good view of your boyfriend still, you leaned on the counter.
You loved watching Seungmin to do just about anything. He moved with practiced ease, knowing the steps by heart. If you woke him up at midnight and told him to do something, he would excel at it half asleep. He was calm, confident and always knew what to do. It was hot.
“There you go.” Seungmin slid your drink over to you and you smiled when you saw a cookie next to the cup.
“Is this the girlfriend privilege?” you laughed, carefully unwrapping the cookie and breaking it in half. You waited for when Seungmin was free again to call him over and feed him half of the cookie as he laughed and protested he's on the clock and shouldn't. As it turned out, bothering Seungmin was a great way to pass up your time and before you knew it, he was clocking out and offering his hand to you so you could leave together.
You led Seungmin to the karaoke, making up a lie about how you wanted to eat dinner together to explain why you weren't taking the usual route back to his and Felix's place.
“Karaoke?” Seungmin raised his eyebrow when you arrived in front of the building.
“You like singing and the buffet is great?” you shrugged, pulling him inside.
You made your way to one of the rooms, leading Seungmin into the darkness. “Happy birthday Seungmin!” the guys shouted as you flicked on the light, revealing your friends, balloons and gifts wrapped in matching wrapping paper and the cake Felix and Minho made.
While Seungmin stared in shock, you grabbed your present, lining up with the guys to congratulate him. “Thank you, Y/N,” Seungmin smiled as he received the box and you knew it wasn't just for the gift.
Later you watched him unwrap the presents with a glass of champagne in hand, enjoying his reactions to the gifts of all sorts. Sentimental ones, nice ones, and Minho's. That one deserved its special category, because the way he doubled over in laughter when he saw the shorts and couldn't show you for a solid two minutes, was something you very rarely saw. His eyes sparkled, barely visible with how much he laughed and that would forever be your favourite sight.
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clarisse0o · 3 days
Text
Camp Wiegman-Part 76
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
TW: Abuse Mention
Masterlist
———————————————————————
Saturday, March 26; 9:00 PM – Jenni and Alexia's apartment.
The evening is underway. We're at Jenni's since her apartment is the closest to The United. Needless to say, our friend is well-stocked with beer for the girls' enjoyment. We ordered takeout – Chinese food, to keep things simple. The others left us about an hour ago to enjoy their own evening. We started ours by playing a few rounds of car racing games on Jenni's PlayStation. The games went on until our stomachs started growling. I think Mapi was mostly tired of Alexia beating us. It seems like she's had a bit more practice than we have. So now we're eating, and I took the opportunity to share the good news I received today.
"And so, she’s willing to take you on at her gallery?" Ale asks. "That’s crazy. Small world, huh?"
"We're not complaining," Mapi replies with her mouth full.
She swallows before continuing:
"We were starting to worry you wouldn’t be with us next year."
"Oh no. I was more worried about ending up with nothing. I don’t think I would have left anyway..."
"But is this thing certain?" Ale asks.
"Supposedly. She wants me to visit the gallery and spend a weekend there to see if it works for both of us."
"That’s cool. At least you’ll get a feel for it."
"Yeah, exactly! Plus, she’s a woman running the gallery alone, which suits me even better."
"Yeah, that’s great news," Alexia comments, though with a hint of sadness.
My remark brings about a short silence. I take a deep breath and uncross my legs, placing them on the ground. It was now or never. I mean, there wasn’t a better opportunity.
"I think I’m ready to talk to you about it, girls."
They were both focused on their little boxes of Chinese noodles before I sparked their interest. Neither could hide their surprise.
"You don’t have to," Mapi says first. "I’ve lived in silence for over a year, and I’m fine with that."
"No. Well, no, I don’t have to. But I managed to talk to Lucy about it, so I feel ready to talk to you now. I know you won’t judge me or anything like that anyway."
"That’s the last thing we’d do," Ale replies. "But like Mapi said, don’t feel obligated. Lucy knows, so it’s already a big step for you to have opened up once."
"It’s not about opening up anymore. It’s that you two are my best friends, and I want you to know what destroyed me one day."
They nod in understanding.
"It’s just that if there are two people I’m going to tell this story to, it’s you two."
"Okay," Mapi says first. "Well, if you want to know, I’ve been looking for the truth about all of this for a long time, even though I’ve come up with plenty of scenarios in my head. That piece of garbage Feli still managed to destroy my best friend."
I give a sad smile. It took me a while to understand, but I wasn’t the only one affected by my change in behavior.
"That scumbag, as you put it, abused me for almost a year," I say bluntly, without beating around the bush.
I owed it to myself to do it this way, or my resolve would have evaporated. Still, I can’t bring myself to meet their eyes. I keep my gaze fixed on my box of food, resting on my knees.
"What do you mean, abused...?" Ale murmurs.
"She got angry because of the drugs, and I paid the price... I won’t go into the details. Even Lucy doesn’t know. She ended up figuring it out after my fight with Korbin. I had completely shut down and didn’t want her to treat me at the time, until she understood what was happening."
My throat tightens at the memories resurfacing. It’s harder than I imagined. Alexia, sitting beside me, places her hand on my knee for support.
"I—I didn’t mean to push people away. I just couldn’t stand being touched or approached anymore. I feel vulnerable around people..."
"Oh my God, you poor thing... I didn’t realize it was that bad. So... she hit you?" she asks uncertainly.
I lift my head to see them looking at me with sadness. I sigh and stand up. I don’t like feeling pitied, but I knew what to expect when I started this topic. My back is turned when Mapi speaks before I can answer.
"She did more than that, didn’t she? How far did that bitch go? I mean, you were so strong before. I never would’ve imagined someone could break you like that."
A few tears escape me. I quickly wipe them away. Mapi’s the only person who can guess the full extent of what she did. No one else here knew the Ona from before. So bold and rebellious.
"She did a lot of things I regret," I whisper.
I turn around and lift my sweater to show them my scars. Their gasps fill the room. Some are burn marks, often from cigarettes. Others are knife wounds that struggled to heal properly, as I was never able to treat them. Looking back, I think some of them should have required hospital care. But I never went. It would have meant reporting Feli and going back home. I feel foolish for never doing it now.
"I’ve never seen those," Mapi admits breathlessly.
"Well, if you think about it, I haven’t undressed in front of you since I got back," I point out.
I was never shy with Mapi since she was my high school girlfriend. We used to undress and change in front of each other without any issues before all this.
"The only time you could’ve seen them was at the pool a few months ago, but you were too busy with Ingrid and Joan," I add with a small smile to lighten the mood.
"Oh yeah, that day," she replies. "But wait, you had trouble going to the pool then?" she realizes with shock.
I bite my lip and nod.
"I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t say anything because everyone was so excited. Lucy scolded me in the changing rooms when you all left. She didn’t know no one else had seen them except her... She reassured me and made me feel comfortable before joining you all."
"Oh my God! But why didn’t you say anything?"
"It’s fine, I’m not dead," I joke. "Lucy is slowly helping me feel more comfortable in my body..." I add, blushing.
She’s the first person I allowed to see me in my underwear, practically at the start of our relationship. Granted, I was in bad shape and in a tough spot because of my withdrawal, but I could have refused her help. Somehow, she managed to earn my trust quickly.
"Does she know she abused you?"
I blush even more than before. Mapi never holds back. I can’t even contradict her because we both know she’s right. I had no shame or fear before Feli.
"No," I whisper. "I told her no to avoid her pitying me. She was already worried enough about everything else."
"You can’t hide that from her," Mapi protests.
Her reaction surprises me, and I’m at a loss for words. It’s such a sensitive topic. I’m already pushing myself to talk to her about it, so telling Lucy... the person I share my bed with... is asking a lot. The worst part is that this happened frequently because of Feli’s violence. She had hormone surges she wanted to satisfy, and I was powerless. I often thanked the drugs for helping me forget half of those moments. Seeing my distress and disconnection, Ale steps in to help me.
"Stop, Mapi. This isn’t an easy thing to discuss, especially not with her girlfriend," she defends me.
"What? If I were in her shoes, I’d want to know!" Mapi retorts.
"Please don’t say that," I reply, feeling some remorse now. "I didn’t want her to pity me about this, or worse, to hold back. I wanted everything to happen at my own pace, with her help, and that’s what happened. »
Ale nods in understanding, while Mapi crosses her arms. I sigh at that.
“I was planning to tell her after our first time, but I’m afraid she might take it badly, or... I don’t know... Her reaction scares me a little.”
“She would have every reason to take it badly,” Mapi grumbles. “She would’ve reacted differently if she’d known!”
“And that’s exactly what I wanted to avoid. You know very well I hate being pitied! That’s not how she would’ve helped me!”
Mapi dramatically sighs and rolls her eyes. I understand her frustration. Mapi is the only one who knew me before all of this. She hates that I’ve become so secretive. I guess she expected me to open up at least with the woman who shares my life so she could take care of me. But this is still my choice.
“And what exactly does she know? And since when? Because if even she doesn’t know everything, I’m not sure how to help you anymore.”
“Come on, you’re exaggerating. She’s known a lot for a while. She knows I was a junkie and that I lived in abandoned places with Feli and the other addicts.”
“She knows why you ran away?” Mapi snaps with a certain bitterness.
“Yes, she knows about my dad’s death in combat, and how close we were. She also knows about the communication problems with my family, especially with my mom... Even though that’s a lot better now.”
“And she knows she was violent?”
“Yes, since Korbin, she knows. Like I said before, she’s the only one who will ever know the details of every one of my scars.”
I say this preemptively to stand my ground. I understand she’s still worried about me after hearing all of this, but she has no right to question my choices. Not about Lucy, nor about what I choose to tell her. Mapi narrows her eyes for a moment before sighing in defeat.
“Fine,” she mutters.
“Lucy has helped you a lot...”
I give a sad smile to Alexia, who seems a bit shocked. The poor thing just learned a lot all at once. I had never told her any of this before. To my surprise, she doesn’t resent me for keeping it from her, judging by the way she continues.
“I remember the first day we met. You brushed me off like never before,” she laughs. “I thought I was in for a rough year, and that we’d never be friends given the anger coming off you…”
The way I acted when I met Alexia is one of my biggest regrets. We’ve become very close since then. Alexia just wanted a friend, having never had one before, and I’m glad she can now count me as one.
“But in the end...” she continues. “Once you faced Lucy, I saw that anger disappear. I don’t know how she did it, but she really helped you work through a lot.”
My shoulders slump at this truth. She understands what my girlfriend has done for me. I nod softly to confirm.
“Yes… That’s exactly what happened. She pushed me physically and mentally with punishments… Yet she always listened and supported me. I questioned myself so many times because of her, and I started to trust her. Once she realized that, she began to rebuild me.”
“You see,” Alexia turns to Mapi. “You’re scolding her for not opening up enough… But I think Lucy already knows.”
“Why do you say that?” my best friend asks, frowning.
“Because Ona has never needed to speak for Lucy to understand that something is wrong.”
I sit at these words. If I were honest with myself, I’d say that’s exactly what I hoped for from Lucy. I pushed her away so many times when things got serious, hoping she’d figure out what I’d been through. Unfortunately, she’s never brought it up. So I don’t know if she knows.
“I’m sorry,” Mapi says. “You’re probably right, Ale. I was so jealous at first of how easily she reads you when I’m supposed to know you best… So yeah… She probably already knows, if I could figure it out.”
“I hope so,” I murmured. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”
“Do you still have trouble with people in general?” Mapi asks me.
“No... Well, school and Lucy in particular have helped me open up to the world again. I still push people away sometimes when they surprise me with touch, but it’s happening less and less. We’re working on it a lot.”
“With Lucy?”
“Yes. She’s helping me regain my confidence. In fact, I finally gave myself to her last week.”
“She’s really had a lot of patience. Kudos to her, because I would never have been able to do what she’s done in such a short time.”
“Totally,” Ale agrees. “It’s no wonder you’re so close. Even if you two hadn’t gotten together, I think you’d have maintained a strong bond that the other students wouldn’t understand.”
“Speaking of school, I forgot to tell you, but Wiegman knows,” I said.
The girls look at me without any visible reaction, taking a moment to process what I said.
“Who’s Wiegman?” Mapi responds.
“What do you mean Wiegman knows?!” Ale exclaims.
“Wiegman knows,” I repeat with a small laugh. “Wiegman is the school principal, and she knows. My management professor, who has a crush on Lucy, talked about us to Wiegman. Lucy was there to hand in her resignation letter, and she confessed. She didn’t want to lie, especially since she was about to leave anyway.”
“Wow!” Mapi exclaims. “She’s lost it!”
“But what happened? Are you two getting expelled?”
“No. We think the fact that she knows my mom helped a lot. She also took Lucy’s resignation into account. Since we’re at the end of the school year, she’s letting us finish, and I’m allowed to continue my evening classes since they’re part of my apprenticeship,” I explain with a shrug. “We just have to keep being discreet because if any student finds out, she won’t be able to do anything to stop us from getting expelled.”
“Wow!” Ale exclaims. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Yep. So… Wiegman knows,” I sighed.
“Lucy really took some big risks.”
“I know. I felt bad when she told me, but it just goes to show that honesty pays off.”
“And when did all of this happen?”
“Yesterday.”
“And then you say nothing interesting happens in your life,” Mapi mutters to Ale, who bursts out laughing.
“Alright, enough about me. What about you two!? You always let me go first.”
I look at them in turn. They glance at each other, and Alexia decides to go ahead.
“Well, nothing special. Alba agreed to meet Jenni at Leah’s party. Of course, Jenni accepted, but she’s terrified,” she laughs. “She’s afraid of Alba’s reaction.”
“Your sister’s a bit of a pain,” Mapi comments.
“A bit, yeah,” she sighs. “It’s partly my fault too. I hid my relationship for way too long. I shouldn’t have.”
“True,” I agreed.
“Have you talked to Lucy about it? Are you two coming?”
I shake my head, crushing her hopes instantly.
“Sorry, but she refused. Since we’re under scrutiny with Wiegman, she really wants to wait until the end of the school year before we go public with my school friends.”
“Damn…” she sighs.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be well surrounded. Misa will be there, I imagine.”
“Yeah…”
“She’s really cool, you know. We helped each other out when you and Alba were called in. Maybe you could do the same for her that night…”
“I’ll see,” she grimaces. “I’m not sure where to place her. She came to tell me, and I quote, ‘we should get to know each other better.’”
“Who’s she? Your sister-in-law?”
“Ew, don’t call her that,” Ale replies.
I laugh heartily. It seems like things still aren’t smooth between them. I know she doesn’t really like her, but she’d be surprised.
“Come on, she’ll be a good help, trust me.”
- Yeah, well, wait. I think Alba plans to spend part of the holidays with us, like, "to make up for lost time," you know? I'm so pissed! I thought we'd finally be able to enjoy some time just the two of us!
I laugh again. I understand how she feels. It’s always like that with Lucy. We plan to be together, and then everything gets turned upside down. It's complicated with family all over the place.  
- And on top of that, you two won't be here, she adds. I heard you're leaving a week early.  
- Yeah, we're going to my grandfather's for the first week. Since we're going to Portugal, we might as well make the most of it, I replied.  
- Yeah, that's true, but once again, you won't be here to back me up, she says, pouting.  
- Either way, we wouldn't have been here. You'll have to wait until the end of the year for that.  
- Damn it, sighs Ale. It's ridiculous. It’s not like our friends would rat you out.
- Oh, you never know! Mapi surprisingly defends us. All it takes is for someone to have something against Lucy or even Ona, and boom, they're screwed.
- Yeah, mumbles Ale, not entirely convinced.
I laugh quietly to myself, but I think that’s exactly what Lucy believes too. That, and maybe the fact that she doesn’t want to get too close to her students before she leaves. I’m giving her some space for now, but once exams are over, she won’t have any more excuses. I definitely plan to introduce her to the whole gang.  
- So, Mapi, what about you? Anything new?  
- Not much. I'm selling my apartment. Preparing for my move... The school accepted my enrollment.  
- That's awesome! Ale comments.  
- Yeah, definitely a good thing. Also, my parents got in touch.  
- No way! What did they want?  
- To spend time together and reconnect, she laughs bitterly. Apparently, they wanted to check in on me and see how I was doing.  
- Ouch. Any hidden agenda?  
- No idea. I refused. I plan to spend my vacation here getting settled. I told them that and mentioned I have a girlfriend. When they started giving me grief about it, I hung up.  
- No surprise, I grimaced. They didn’t even ask how you were doing before that?  
- Nope. They started by asking how school’s going, if I’m doing well... Same old. I guess they still don’t have anyone to take over their stupid business. I wasn’t planning on seeing them again anyway. They probably thought I’d changed my mind about how I live. They still haven’t realized I’ll never be straight or take over their damn succession.  
- But what exactly do they hold against you? Ale asks calmly.  
- Well, exactly what I just said. Being a lesbian and loving engineering, which they consider a "man’s job." They would’ve preferred me to inherit the family business and start a family with a man for the succession. I’ve always refused. There’s no way I’m pretending to be someone I’m not for people who were never there for me.  
I smile sadly. She rarely talks about her family, even to me. All I know is that they’re rich, always off on business trips, and were never around. The day of her accident was the turning point for her. They couldn’t even be there for her, so she not only rejected her inheritance but also cut ties with them. I knew it was hard for her. Despite what she says, she values family a lot. I can tell when she’s with mine. She’s always said I had nothing to complain about. I find it awful that her parents want her to be someone she’s not. I’m glad she’s finally found some peace in her life thanks to Ingrid.  
- Anyway, no more news from them. I’m living my life, about to join you guys, and it’s about time. I’m really happy about that.  
- And how’s your leg?  
- It’s doing better. The pain is less frequent. But I know it’ll never fully heal. I was told that after the first surgeries.  
- Do you need another operation soon?  
- No, your mom managed to avoid that. We found other solutions. Better physios,… Anyway, they’ll never be able to fully fix it.  
- What happened, with that? Ale asks hesitantly.  
- Car accident. Wasn’t even my fault, she jokes with a laugh. A drunk driver crashed head-on into my mom and me. My knee got completely crushed. According to all the doctors, I was very lucky, if not miraculous, to have saved it.  
My heart sinks every time she talks about it. She was heading home with her mom when it happened. Mapi was the most injured since the car hit her side. The man in the other car flew through the windshield and didn’t make it. Her mom was the least hurt, with just a broken arm and a few cracked ribs. They were rushed to the hospital, especially Mapi, whose knee was shattered. Their father joined them at the hospital. What I find disgusting is that once her mom recovered, her parents didn’t stay with her. Mapi was a teenager, and legally, they shouldn’t have left her alone. But they did. They went back on business trips for days. They only visited occasionally to check on her progress. Mapi had to go through several surgeries alone, with no support. Then came the physical therapy, where they’d just drop her off at the doctors without asking if she needed help. She’s always said that the best thing her parents did for her was bringing her to Barcelona. They were advised to go to the best surgeons there. That’s when we met at school, and my mom started visiting her at the hospital since she was always alone. She’s always told me that her real family is us.  
- By the way, did you call your mom about the wedding?  
- What wedding? Ale asks.  
I blush in embarrassment. I didn’t even have time to tell her. My God, I really need to get back to reality.  
- My mom’s getting married to her partner. I called her this morning, and I agreed to be her maid of honour.  
Mapi practically explodes with joy, jumping on me. I laugh softly. I know she’s always wanted us to get along better since she’s always gotten along with my mom.  
- No way? Oh, I’m so happy! So, you’re going?  
- Of course, I roll my eyes. It’ll be after the exams. June 18th.  
- Oh no, Ale groans. You won’t even be here for my birthday!  
- Really? When’s your birthday? I ask.  
- Well… the 18th, she laughs.  
- Damn. No, we definitely won’t be here, I chuckle. We’ll probably head to Barcelona right after the exams to help with the preparations and all that. Lucy suggested it to get a break before the exam results come out.  
- Oh, that’s even better! You’ll be with me then! Can Ingrid come too?  
- My mom will probably invite her too, so yeah, of course, I laugh.  
- Well, I’m still upset. No one will be here for my birthday, Ale says, crossing her arms.  
- Oh, come on, we’ll celebrate your birthday, don’t worry.  
I say, giving her a hug. The last thing I want is to not celebrate her birthday.  
- Yeah. We’ll do it when we’re back. Maybe a night out, something with lots of drinks! It would do us good.  
- Speaking of drinks, I saw a bottle of champagne in the fridge. Anyone interested?  
- Yeah! Mapi exclaims. Go ahead, pop it open!
We laugh as Ale gets up to grab it. A glass of champagne sounds good tonight. I needed to unwind, and since Lucy is picking me up later, I don’t hesitate to have a drink or two, especially after Ale pulls out the rest of the alcohol from the other night.
Saturday, March 26; 2:50 AM - Jenni and Alexia's Apartment.
- Darling, someone murmurs to me.
I groan, burying my head into something soft, like a pillow. I recognize Lucy’s touch as she runs her hand through my hair, a little mocking laugh escaping her.
- Come on, get up. I need a little help.
I sigh contentedly, blinking my eyes open. It’s hard to keep them open, even though there’s no light in the room.
- You can stay here if you want, I hear Jenni offer.
- No, no. We’re heading home. Come on, babe, at least sit up so I can carry you.
I groan as she pulls my arms, trying to sit me up. I never know where she gets her strength, but somehow, she always manages. I have a slight headache. I definitely overdid it with the drinks tonight. I don't even know what time it is. Wrapping my arms around my girlfriend, I teasingly pull her toward me. She laughs before pressing her lips to mine.
- You’re not going to make this easy, are you?
- Nope, I grumble.
Too tired to fight back, I let my head fall onto her shoulder. She takes advantage of my state to pull me to the edge of the couch, then lifts me by holding me firmly by the thighs. My limp body betrays me, collapsing entirely against her.
- Thanks again for the evening.
- Will you be okay? Jenni asks her.
- Oh, yeah. It’s not the first time I’ve had to carry her, she jokes.
- Alright, she laughs. Be careful on your way back. Text me when you’re home.
- I will. Thanks.
I hear the door close as Lucy moves, followed by the sound of the elevator. I wait until the doors close to speak.
- You’re not mad at me? I mumble.
- Mad at you for what, baby? she whispers.
She gives me a little bounce to adjust her grip on my body. I groan softly at the jostling.
- For drinking too much, I whisper into her neck.
I’m being honest, because I know she knows. We didn’t have time to clean up the bottles, and I must reek of alcohol. I'd rather be upfront than face a scolding.
- No, she surprises me by saying. Not in this environment, where it’s safe.
A long breath of relief escapes me. She kisses my temple and finally exits when we reach the ground floor. I can feel the cold, and I realize I don’t have my jacket on.
- I’m warning you, once we get to our building, you’re walking up. You’re getting heavy, I swear.
I laugh into her neck as best I can, but I nod. I figure by the time we get there, I’ll be somewhat awake. Somehow, Lucy manages to get me into the car, and I hear the door shut before she walks around to the driver’s side. That’s when I notice my jacket is draped over my lap. I decide to put it on to stay warm.
- I love you, you know that? I say, in the middle of the drive, making my girlfriend laugh.
- Yeah, babe. I think I’m aware, she teases.
- Why are you laughing? It’s not funny. I’m being very serious! I huff.
- I’m not laughing.
- Yes, you are!
- Well, only because you’re the most adorable thing when you’re drunk. I forgot how happy you get in these moments.
- Does that mean I can drink again? I say excitedly.
- I never forbade you from drinking, she sighs.
- Yes, you did at the beginning.
- Yeah, but back then, you weren’t as responsible as you are now. And the places you frequented weren’t exactly the safest.
- Blah, blah, blah.
- Babe, she giggles. Don’t pick a fight in such a nice moment.
- Hmm, I reply, stretching. I’ll try not to, I tease.
We arrive at our building, and Lucy parks in the underground garage. This time, she doesn’t carry me up, but she still helps me stay upright and even undress me a little once we get to our apartment.
- Can I wear one of your shirts? I mumble as I collapse onto the bed.
- Of course.
I’m down to my underwear as she rummages through our closet. I take off my bra without any hesitation. Partly because I’m drunk, partly because I’ve become comfortable with Lucy since we made love.
- Here, she says, tossing me one.
I put it on quickly and slide under the covers, watching Lucy change. Once she’s done, she joins me in bed. I barely have time to snuggle up to her before I feel myself drifting off. I can still feel her lips against mine just before I fall asleep.
- Good night, my love.
- Good night, baby, I mumble back.
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cazzyf1 · 2 days
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The other day on my tiktok I created a simple post about how James Hunt is more than just the Playboy persona that is associated with him. This flew over someone's head who commented about how he was a Playboy. I responded explaining the point of the video but instead they doubled down saying that James didn't care about F1 only about partying.
So today I went through some of my books and gathered a load of quotes to show the James Hunt that most people do not know about, the one outside of the Playboy perception. I've posted it on tiktok but figured I'll upload it here as well so the true James Hunt can reach more people and slowly we can dismantle the reputation 'Rush' gave him ❤️
TW: Depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms/addictions
When you think of James Hunt you think of the 'playboy'. The guy who partied, drank lots, took drugs and slept with lots of women. Its true he did that, and a lot but to dismiss him as just that is wrong. He was a good driver, a person who tried his best, a kind man who cared for human & animal rights.
The next few slides I've compiled quotes from a few books and website to show what kind of person he actually was and what he went through in life and that less people will dismiss him as just a Playboy.
James Hunt's first marriage was rocky because James was already very involved in his addictions and he knew he didn't love Susy because he felt that he wasn't capable of love. But he felt responsible for her and wanted to look after her. Here is his own opinion from his book ->
"It was really THE problem. I thought that marriage was what I wanted and needed to give me a nice stable and quiet home life, but in fact it wasn't and the key mistake was mine. I really wanted to go racing on my own, and it wasn't much fun for Susy to sit at home and wait for me all that time. It was also a terrible hassle for her to come racing because race meetings were probably the most relaxing time in my schedule. The rest of the time you tend to be leaping on aeroplanes once a day and that made it even worse because it's bad enough organizing one person to get on an aeroplane. Organizing two gets to be twice as much hassle. It got to the point where it was a problem for Susy to come travelling and a hell of a deal for her to stay at home. It was making life miserable in the extreme for her and since I felt responsible for her it was making me miserable too. So we had agreed to split up and then Richard Burton came along and solved all the problems. We had had an immensely successful marriage because I learnt an awful lot about myself and life and I think Susy did too. We all ended up happy, anyway, which is more than can be said for a lot of marriages" - p14 Against All Odds
Much is said about James Hunt and the ladies he kept company, and without knowing anything about James you might assume the worst, but here's some quotes about what he was actually like with the ladies ->
"I don't usually have sex before a race because I am very definitely concentrating -I find that it is the communication between two people that makes it worth- while, and before a race I am pretty uncommunicative. However, if say I have an hour or so to spare before dinner on the night before a race then I can enjoy the physical release. But I will only do it with someone who is fully understanding" - p15 Against All Odds
"He was always attentive to his partners needs. Indeed much of his satisfaction came from giving pleasure. The only problem, some of them confessed, was that his desire to please often out-stripped their needs" - p264 James Hunt: The Biography
"I was sure he was gay, because he never made a move on me for so long" - p278 Jane Birbeck, long time partner, James Hunt: The Biography
"He missed the actual skirmish - he was inside getting drinks at the bar - but had to be forcibly restrained from going after the policeman who hit his girlfriend" - p284 James Hunt: The Biography
James Hunt had many affairs in his time, because he had become an addict to many things including women (more on this later) He was aware of his and it plagued James that he couldn't control it ->
"One evening she returned to their London home to find James in tears. He was tormented by feelings of guilt caused by his lust for other women. He confessed the full extent of his unfaithfulness, that it was unfair to her and that for her sake they couldn't remain a couple. It wasn't that he was bored with her, but that his desire for other women was insatiable and uncontrollable. He held Jane in his arms and they both wept" - p320
One thing that helped James in his life time was his love for animals especially his pet dog Oscar. Here are some quotes about his love for animals and how far he would go to help protect them ->
"I think in a way Oscar was the child James never had at that stage. He was a remarkable dog, no question, but James thought a lot about animals and their requirements and was very concerned about their needs. He gave Oscar the very best treatment and also was keenly intrested in the welfare of other dogs. He would look at a dog, wonder if it's owner was treating it well and bringing it up properly and if the dog was getting everything out of life that it could" - p281
"Before he came to know James better, the journalist Nigel Roebuck was pleasantly surprised by an incident involvinged stray dog. It was late in the evening after a Grand Prix and tha teams were packing up to leave when James, while talking to Roebuck, saw the dog wandering around the paddock, shiver-ing and obviously very hungry. Roebuck, also sensitive to the needs of an animal in distress, went with James to several of the team motorhomes where they got food and fed the dog. But that wasn't the end of it as far as James was concerned. He insisted that they should take the dog up to the race control centre.
Roebuck: 'He took the dog in there and would not leave until he was sure it would be looked after. James actually made this official sign a piece of paper saying he would take care of the dog and see that it was housed and properly cared for. I was very impressed with this. James was probably one of only a handful of people on this entire planet who would even give that sort of thing a second thought." - p281
"He also thought the wild animals residing on his estate should be left alone. If vermin had to be controlled it should be done in the most humane way possible, and he strongly dissaproved of blood sports. The very thought of fox hunting he found horrible and he vowed not to allow it on his property" - p308
James was also incredibly caring towards the young people in his life such as his sons and his younger siblings. Here’s an extract from his first GF about James and his siblings ->
".. the way he expressed his concern for the emotional youngest members of his family:
He really enjoyed looking after them, and just seeing the way the behaved with his little brothers and sisters you knew was instinctive in him. He was always going to be a good father.
One evening he invited her home where he was babysitting Jo Jo, Dave and Tim. When James had tucked them in he left Ping to read them a bedtime story. When Ping came downstairs James asked her if she had helped them say their prayers. When I said no, James said: "Right. You've missed out hugely there. Come on, we'd better go and do it." So they did. His attitude was that he was taught to do that by his parents and it simply had to be done.'
But he also practised what he preached, and he believed in the power of prayer. In the troubled years to come James would pray to God for strength and help, and he eventually passed on the bedtime prayer ritual to his own two boys, to whom he became completely devoted.
During his time with Ping he had talked about having children, and she thinks fatherhood earlier in his life would have prevented James from sinking into his period of decadence.
I felt so sorry for him then because I knew underneath it wasn't the real James doing this. I think he was trying to make life happy, the wrong way. If he had settled down earlier, had a more normal home life with children of his own when he was younger, one could have seen a totally different James.' - p26
James Hunt cared for human rights especially taking a stand against the Apartheids in South Africa. The Apartheids in short was a system of racial segregation. In protest most sports were not going to South Africa but Formula One still was, and James Hunt made it clear his thoughts
->
“We were once covering the South African Grand Prix during the days of apartheid. All of a sudden, and for no particular reason, he launched into an attack on apartheid.
“It was nothing to do with the Grand Prix, nor would it do British-South African relations any good. Our producer pushed a piece of paper across saying: ‘Talk about the race!’
“And then James blurted out on air: ‘Thank God we’re not actually there!”
But simply calling out Apartheid on the air wasn’t enough for Hunt. He sought to have his race commentaries blocked from being broadcast in South Africa, but was unsuccessful.
When that didn’t work, he instead — and secretly — gave financial support from his income as a race broadcaster to groups struggling to end Apartheid in South Africa."
"His deeply compassionate and loving nature was something that, unfortunately, wasn't adequately conveyed to the public, who only ever heard about the sensational side of James Hunt" - p282 John Watson
As mentioned earlier James Hunt was an addict. His playboy lifestyle was his addictions and this is all rooted back to the fact that James Hunt had depression which grew stronger and stronger. He relied on his additions to get rid of his depression which meant he kept doing more and more. Here are some quotes about his struggle with it and eventually how he overcame it ->
"At home James became increasingly introverted, uncommunicative and reclusive. He gave up golf and spent more and more of his time in the aviary tending his budgies. While the parties continued he would often leave the guests to Sarah and closet himself in the aviary for hours on end.
It became obvious that James was very troubled, but only Sarah and his closest friends knew the full extent of the anguish and despair James suffered during his bouts with what he called his 'dippers'.
Black dog' was the term Winston Churchill used for the recurring 'depressions which afflicted him throughout his life. Bubbles Horsley thinks James was 'born with a "black dog" on his shoulder. His racing pushed the "dog" away far enough so that it was no longer visible. But underneath that wonderful joie de vivre, the laughter and enjoying life, he was given to black moods. He was fearful of them and maybe it was that fear that drove him on. Perhaps without it he would never have been World Champion.
'And I think after the initial "honeymoon" of retirement from racing the black dog came and sat on his shoulder and wouldnt go away. So he became more fearful and sought distraction in various ways, through sex and drink and drugs and rock and roll, as it were." - p323
"At home Sarah watched her husband's condition worsen and desperately sought to help him. She thought his depressiond might partly be due to a chemical imbalance that James was born with, a theory that James explored himself. Then, too, to keep his dippers at bay he consumed too much alcohol and marijuana, both of which can temporarily bring relief but over the long term on have depressive effects.
Like others, Sarah felt that another reason for his 'dippers' might have been because he cut off his emotions early in his life and never learned how to open up to people, or to need them. He was essentially a lonely man and his inability to form close relationships made him despair. His depressions further deadened his feelings, and when he was unable to respond emotionally to marriage and children he grew progressively more despondent.
Sarah: 'He was at war with himself. His depressions became Intolerable and towards the end he stopped trying to fight them coming on because he knew they would take over for two days or week. His face would go black and he would take to his bed and stay there, even on Christmas Day. He'd gone to bed two days beforehand and we had Christmas stockings for the boys. I said, Come on, Beast, the boys are waiting." And he said, "Beast, i can't do it." And he was crying" - p333
"When James felt a "dipper" coming on he would go on two- or three-day benders, mostly drinking vodka. He would just keep going and going, which was always a bit terrifying, and after these deep, dark blank days he would suffer real self-loathing. He could forget his trouble with drink, but it always came back.
For many years trying to get rid of his depression was his major concern, which is why he got the budgerigars. He thought it would be such a huge amount of effort that it would distract him and they became an obsession rather than a hobby. He would sit in the aviary for hours, but he would come back still in the grip of gloom. And for a long time he was so down it was very hard to even converse with him." - p326
"He tried different treatments acupuncture, Chinese herbal medicine and looked into every possible theory. He went to different healers, therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, the lot, to try and find the root of his depression. And in the end he cracked it" - p337
"He began to become more diet-conscious and to eat healthy foods. He also consumed information, in books and magazines, on overcoming addictions, and sought more professional help.
He knew he should stop smoking cigarettes and reduce his marijuana consumption, and he told some friends he thought he might be an alcoholic. He worried that his need for women was another form of addiction and feared he might contract AIDS and infect someone else.
John Hogan: 'So he stopped it all. Straightened himself out by absolute willpower. The strength of character of the man enabled him to get out of it. He cut out the cigarettes, the dope and drugs. the booze and the womanising and his sense of priorities became more well-balanced.' - p338
As he started healing himself of his addictions he became serious about F1 again. He always cared for the sport, doing everything he could to race when he was younger and now though he was retired he still commentated and took part in other ways to stay close to the sport ->
"James became serious about strengthening his position in the media side of Formula 1 racing. He took on an internationally syndicated newspaper column and spent many hours gathering information for it. Working with a journalist he applied himself conscientiously to making sure that every word was written to his satisfaction" - p338
James started to heal his relationships as well, becoming an amazing parent to his two boys and finally meeting a woman who helped him feel loved and be able to love after so long of not being able to ->
"The boys were real handfuls to look after but he was awfully good with them and he really fathered and mothered them extremely well. He was always up early in the morning cooking their breakfast and then the four of us would go off salmon fishing. James would fish properly and I would fool around fishing with the youngsters. And then in the evening we used to settle down and he would tell them stories." - p343
A letter James sent to his girlfriend Helen:
"I went to the parents' 50th in a totally negative frame of mind, feeling very much an outsider and wanting the floor to swallow me up. As the day went on, although I remained 'out- side', I could see and feel lots of generous, undemanding love around me. Something changed for me there with my family. Everyone was exuding love and I saw the wonder of it and want to be part of it, but firstly with you.
I realise now that the feeling of not being loved as a child made me close up to any incoming love projected onto me. I do see that I cannot live on without love. You brought it home to me when you pointed out how well I'm doing with the boys. Well I have had to work at that and I've got better at it and I have to do it with you. You are the girl of my dreams. Without you I have no future. I want to make you happy and continue to do so until I die.
All my love for the love of my life,
James"
- p350
Finally James was happy. He was healed from his addictions, in a healthy relationship, had two lovely sons and a job he loved. And best of all he was able to be open with Helen ->
"James confessed to Helen that he was unable to be faithful to anyone in the past because sex was for him just another addiction and he needed women to get his highs. He disliked social gatherings and only had parties or went to them to pick up women. Helen was willing to forgive and forget what went on before, but told him she wouldn't tolerate it in their relationship and he agreed to be faithful to her." - p350
Helen went away on a girls holiday before her and James were going to start trying for children. James proposed to her over the phone on the holiday to which she said yes. But she would never see her finance because he passed away from a heart attack. Unfortunately the previous life he lead caught up to him.
Thank you for reading all of this and I hope you now know more about James Hunt than you already did! It's sad that James is best known now for his unhealthy coping mechanisms for his depression, especially with the film 'Rush' romanticising it. But even if just one person reads all of this it means one more person knows the truth of James Hunt and that makes it worth it ❤️
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Hey I'm the original person that sent that baby terrarium ask! I thought that it became a forgotten relic lol
I love the expanding you did! I wanna add that when I first wrote that I meant it to be for human/mer couples that don't want to transform. With the new info we got I think that Yuu and Jade would wanna raise their kids on land for the first years where they're still squishy and then slowly move into the water. Going deeper as their kids age.
The aquarium is necessary to stimulate the environment of the deep waters without the danger. Once the babies are old enough, they'll be taken out of the aquarium for short periods of time (sort of like when people take their babies out to the park in strollers) the way I think these particular mer/human hybrid babies work is that they have gills but otherwise appear completely human, if they're place in water for a long amount of time they slowly start growing out their mer features (like when humans get pruney our skin changes to have better grip) and any patterns they inherit from both parents start becoming more prominent (they'll get the mer patterns from one parent and moles,freckles,etc from the human parent)
As times goes on I think Yuu and Jade alternate between land and sea. Their kids are hybrids so they should be allowed to enjoy both sides of their family, sort of like how mixed kids are raised in our world (im speaking from experience, but usually a mixed person would want to explore both heritages in their lifetime. If they don't in childhood they'll try to in adulthood) I don't think Yuu or Jade are the type of people to deprive their kids from those experiences so they settle on having a good amount of sea/land potions on hand.
When jade was a first year he'd have no idea what's in store for him at NRC, it's almost funny, like the seven are humbling him for laughing at human/mer couples he saw online lol
Oh hello dearest friend, none of my asks are ever forgotten. Tucked away in a very dusty corner screaming at me to get back to them, but not forgotten!
I agree about mer hybrids looking human but having gills. I considered bringing up the idea of them being amphibious so I am glad to see we're on the same page ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
As for the bit about these kids being mixed... that just adds a layer of tragedy to their existence. You are not from Twisted Wonderland. Your culture, your people, your history, all of the things your children might be curious about and wish to understand do not exist for them to see. Stories that you might tell them, people you might want them to meet, you can only recreate what you remember so if your memory is poor there's going to be so many questions you won't be able to answer. In a sense no matter who Yuu ends up with that will be a problem... but being part mer has got to make that worse. The babies will be alien no matter where they go. I agree they'd want to explore both land and sea as much as they could though.
Ah first year Jade... he was so naive back then. Humans are entertaining sure but to want to be one forever? Please only a fool would think such a thing could work. Good thing he likes being proven wrong. Sometimes anyway.
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kenjaku · 1 day
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Taking a brief moment to enjoy a piece of petty happiness as a Kenjaku fan.
To start, I don't think Gege is going to elaborate in the slightest on exactly what is going on with Takaba and the mystery person he's talking to in ch. 270. And it's sort of a meta comedy bit that uses the reader's engagement with the media for the joke that we just will never know the full uncensored truth (As in, the joke is on US). Even 'Kenjaku's' shirt has "lol" on it. It's fully conceivable that Takaba's technique could have played a role in Kenjaku returning. Perhaps reviving him as someone who is incapable of causing harm (no CE or CT). Maybe it really is a Kenjaku Tulpa. And I'm not fully discounting the idea that it's just as feasible that he could have gotten someone who looked similar/had them do their hair like that (although I feel it defeats the purpose of Takaba finding the perfect comedy partner in Kenjaku only to use a lookalike, but it's still possible.) What this brings me to is the absolute petty satisfaction that for annoying Geto fans who have plagued the timeline/mentions of just about any person who wanted to talk anything about Kenjaku, the "end" for Kenjaku might literally be that he gets to go on and live a normal mundane chill life with his perfect comedy partner and above all still, at the very least, looking like Geto Suguru.
After all the editing out stitches (including from people's fanart which is disgusting), attributing Kenjaku's pregnancy imagery to Suguru who is wholeass just a man, constantly pushing Kenjaku's accomplishments onto "actually being Geto", stinking up people's fanart with complaints that "it would've been better as Geto not Kenjaku", etc. This is what Kenjaku potentially gets, living out the rest of his life in a fulfilling way with someone important to him.
(Mind you I do think the merger plotline being dropped the way it was is disappointing as a person who thinks Kenjaku is objectively the most compelling villain in jjk, but I'm also not mad at the end result we get for him.) Anyway, if you were ever the kind of Geto fan who did all that annoying shit. Get wrecked lmao.
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maxlarens · 2 days
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all the daniel stuff has really put a damper on my weekend and it seems like VCARB don’t even know and even if they don’t drop him it’s s horrible and cruel.
i had a pit in my stomach earlier cause i was so stressed about it i had to stop going on social media :/
he’s been doing a good job! vcarb just don’t know what they’re doing
i’ll be so sad if true cause daniel is the reason i got into f1 in the first place and last time there was a chance he was back but idk if it can happen again
(sorry for ranting in your inbox i just saw you posted about it and i’ve been so stressed lol)
no ur absolutely fine, im more than happy to discuss this kind of stuff! i may start making more posts about drivers and f1 politics and things tbh.
but yeah anyway. anyone’s personal feelings about daniel and his performance and whether or not he deserves his seat etc etc aside, it’s just appalling how redbull are handling this. they have clearly not made a concrete decision yet (ie: pen to paper. i think people know), but have been stringing daniel along on the hope that he may not get replaced. i just think its disgusting with how truly terrible vcarb has been re: his tyre strategy. this race was a mess? i don’t understand why they would pit him first like that so early on. it makes genuinely no sense to me. and it puts him in this awful position wheres he’s got to fight through the midfield every time he races.
i don’t get it. and i think its absurd to judge him off his race position when they shaft him every time.
and just yeah. throwing him to media wolves when he has been fucking loyal to redbull. sure he left. but they treat him like dirt under their shoe. for what reason??? especially when he came back on the hope of getting into the redbull seat. and fine if thats not an option okay. why has he seemed to think that he’s been safe and/or had hope up until the end of this race? where literally everyone is acting like its foregone conclusion that he’s gone and he has to grapple with that in front of everyone. without support from vcarb or rb.
i can see vcarb not knowing. i think max knows. i think h*rner knows. why doesn’t daniel know? why wasn’t he given an appropriate send off?? why haven’t they announced the swap with a race or two to go so he can be prepared for it, have people celebrate his career.
i love logan. but that sudden swap makes sense to me. he was causing damages that a team like williams can’t absorb. daniel is not crashing. i understand its the pressure of the wdc. but to me it looks like the reason daniel is not getting into points is because vcarb screw up his tyre strategy. perez is costing them money, perez is costing them points. i don’t think theres a big conspiracy to keep him in his seat, but i AM confused as to why daniel is unfairly bearing the brunt of that? thats what it feels like to me.
i will be very interested to see what they announce/how they announce it for daniel. and i will also be interested to see how they handle liam and his tyre strategy if thats what happens. because yeah whats the value in this swap is what it comes down to imo.
overall these mid season swaps are not a pattern that i particularly enjoy seeing. its not out of character for redbull of course, but it just reeks of disrespect for their drivers. especially someone like daniel who loves that team, clearly deeply loves driving and has been in the sport for a significant amount of time. a mid season swap is not unacceptable to me, but the lack of care in handling it is.
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A House That Has Everything: Chapter 2
A/N: Chapter 2 of my new series! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.
Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), imagining some sexy things
Word count: ~2.4k
Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.
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Mr. Presley sighs and turns from the window. Will the responsibility of this new life never end?
******
After two weeks in her new position, Annabelle has settled into a new normal at Graceland Manor. It's not one she particularly likes or enjoys, but it's a routine at least. She's finally learned what her responsibilities are and how to do all of them. She's also met everyone in the house and learned who is worth talking to and who isn't. The other maids are not. They're both young and experienced and spend most of their time making snide comments and whispering about her. The cook, Mrs. Hall, is her favorite person, so far. She has a warm, welcoming air about her that makes Annabelle feel at home even in the big house that has no other home-like feeling. She hasn't talked to her much, but she likes her best of all anyway. And the handsome footman that answered the door when she first arrived is the cook’s son. His name is Jimmy and he's been nothing but cordial, albeit maybe a little too friendly. Most everyone else is nice enough, but she doesn't have a real companion among the group.
One of Annabelle's jobs is tending the fires in every room each morning. This means she's up before dawn every day. She doesn't enjoy that part, but it's actually quite nice to move about the house while everyone else is still asleep. Her favorite room is the library, which doubles as Mr. Presley’s private study. She never has much time to spend in there, but she does take a few minutes occasionally to look around at the books, even glancing at his desk a couple of times. He's a mess. There are papers stacked and sticking out of piles everywhere. She's not sure why, but she finds this a little endearing, even if she has sworn to hate him.
About 3 weeks after her first day, Annabelle walks into the library purposefully, ready to light the fire and try to look at the books a little. She's startled when she realizes there is a candle burning and someone sitting at the desk. There's only one person it could possibly be, so she tries to back out of the room as quickly as she can, but she hits the doorframe and it makes a loud thud. He immediately turns and stands up and she gasps.
Mr. Presley has an imposing presence even when he's not angry, so he feels almost terrifying when he is. He glares at her and Annabelle is overwhelmed with the desire to melt into the carpet.
“Where have you been?! It's freezing in here.” She shakes her head and stumbles over her words.
“I-I I'm sorry-”
“There's no excuse.” His eyes are wild and red-rimmed like he's either been crying or hasn't slept or both and his hair looks like he's run his hand through it about a thousand times. Annabelle recognizes the look of distress and her fear turns to compassion.
“Did you… have you been in here all night?” She asks in a small voice. He's obviously disarmed by the fact that she hasn't just run away from him.
“What?”
“You look like… have you slept?” She chances a step towards him and his imposing presence seems to shrink a little.
“That is none of your business! Just light the fire and get out!” He spits at her and turns away. She walks over to the fire and tends to it quickly.
As she works at the fireplace, he turns back and watches her. There was a hint of something in her voice that he hasn't experienced from anyone other than the Mrs. Hall in a very long time. Could it have been kindness?
He softens a bit as he watches her at the fireplace. Her shoulders are delicate and graceful as she works and he has the thought again that she wasn't built for this kind of hard labor. He feels an insane desire to help her, to take the task of making the fire and do it for her, but that would be inappropriate on every level. Still, something about her makes him want to throw propriety out the window and care for her the way men do in stories about knights and ladies. He's lost in this reverie when she finishes and stands up, turning back to him.
Annabelle is shocked to find him watching her when she turns away from the fire. He moves quickly to look somewhere else, but for half a second she could've sworn his expression was gentle.
“Are you finished?” He hisses, not looking at her.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Get out. Be earlier tomorrow.” His attempt to put her in the right place in his mind comes out as unnecessary coldness.
“Yes, sir.” Annabelle whispers and goes to walk from the room. But at the door, she pauses and turns back.
“You could tell me… why you haven't slept… if you wanted. No one would listen even if I tried to tell them your secrets.” For a second, he meets her eyes and the warmth he finds there soothes an ache he didn't even know he had. And then he remembers himself.
“OUT.” He tries to yell, but falters the tiniest bit. She nods and leaves the room.
Falling into the nearest chair, Mr. Presley sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. She's right that he hasn't slept. He's been holed up in the study trying to make sense of some documents since last night. Somewhere around 3am, the frustration had turned to grief and he cried for an hour or so. He was making his way back to frustration when she came in.
Why had he responded to her kindness with such cruelty? He knows the answer but isn't ready to face the reality of it.
******
In the next room, Annabelle sits in front of the fireplace crying quietly into her apron. She's so lonely and tired of the harshness with which she's treated here. There's not even anyone she could tell about her struggles. She's alone.
And why had she tried to connect with him? Not only is he a gentleman, he's her master, and not a very nice one at that. But something about him and his emotional state touched her and she felt compelled to offer herself in some way. And for no discernible reason whatsoever, his rejection hurts worst of all.
She starts to cry big, heaving sobs, knowing they're audible but no longer caring. Let them get rid of her. Maybe she could leave this miserable place and let Mr. Presley light his own fires.
******
On his way to bed, Mr. Presley hears the unmistakable sound of a woman crying coming from the drawing room. He walks quietly to the door and peeks through the crack.
The new maid.
His heart shatters when he hears the depth of her despair as she sobs. She's probably crying because he was so hateful. He lightly puts his fingertips on the door to push it open and go to her. Then he stops. It takes everything inside him to turn from the door and leave her there crying.
******
When Annabelle gets back downstairs, the kitchen is bustling with activity. Mr. Presley is entertaining later that evening, so Mrs. Hall is in a tizzy getting everything ready. Most days she does just fine by herself since she's only cooking for one man upstairs and the help downstairs, but when he entertains, she wishes she had some help. Annabelle wanders through despondently and perches on a bench.
“Love, don't you have something else to do?” Mrs. Hall asks, sweat running down the side of her face.
“Not really. I've done all my morning work already.” Annabelle kicks the floor with the toe of her shoe. She's still having to work to keep from crying.
“Get over here and help me, then. I'm assuming you know how to peel and chop.”
“Yes ma'am. I did all the cooking when I lived with my… my parents.” Her voice catches in her throat and Mrs. Hall stops and actually looks at her with her red little nose and tear-stained face.
“Love, what's got you upset?” Mrs. Hall asks as Annabelle washes her hands and takes some potatoes to peel.
“Nothing, ma'am.”
“Call me Gladys, dear.” Annabelle shakes her head.
“Oh, I could never.” Mrs. Hall laughs.
“Even Mr. Presley calls me Gladys sometimes.” Annabelle looks up at her in shock. That's far more interesting than her troubles.
“May I ask why?”
“Sure you can. I practically raised that boy. His mother passed trying to birth his twin and I had Daniel who was nearly the same age. Colonel Presley was lost for a good while after the mistress died and he paid very little attention to his son. The nanny they'd hired wasn't a very nice woman and Elvis- I mean Mr. Presley- used to spend most of his time hiding from her down here with me. He played with my boys and I taught him to cook and play the pianoforte. He's almost like a son to me, despite the difference in station.” Annabelle’s eyes widen with Mrs. Hall’s words. She tries to imagine a young Mr. Presley running through the kitchen, learning to cook and playing with servant boys. But more than the image of him as a child, it's the look that Mrs. Hall has when she talks about him that surprises her. It's a look of deep respect and love. She wonders how long it's been since Mrs. Hall has spoken with him. Maybe he has changed. “Now why don't you tell me what's got you so troubled.”
Annabelle looks down at the potato she's peeling and decides that she needs someone more than she needs to keep her own secrets.
“It's funny you mention Mr. Presley.”
“Why, love?” Annabelle sighs.
“He's the reason I was upset. Well, not the whole reason, but kind of the last thing I could handle. No one here has been very kind to me, him least of all.” Mrs. Hall nods and smiles.
“Hm. He likes you.” Annabelle looks at her with her face scrunched in shock.
“No, he does not. I assure you.”
“He likes you and he knows he shouldn't. He's trying to keep you at arm’s length.” Annabelle shakes her head.
“How do you know? Maybe he hates me?”
“If he hated you he wouldn't speak to you at all. I know my boy. He likes you.”
“No, I'm sure that's not it.” Annabelle continues peeling potatoes in silence, but her heart is pounding. Why does the prospect of Mr. Presley liking her make her knees weak?
******
That evening, Mr. Presley has several friends over for dinner. They eat and play cards and have cigars and brandy and recount their most recent adventures in London. His closest friend, Mr. Jasper Davies, asks what everyone else is wondering.
“When will you be married, then?” They're not eager to lose the company of their bachelor friend, but they know the expectation now that he's the master of a great house.
“I have no designs on marriage anytime soon.” Mr. Presley answers, knowing this won't be realistic for very long. He'll have to marry sooner rather than later. Still, he's never found any particular young lady of his station that he liked well enough to marry. There had been one girl, an actress, that he had loved quite a bit before he joined the army, but she was not a viable partner for him. None of the ladies of the county interested him and he found most of them to be rather one-dimensional and boring.
The conversation about marriage continues, but Mr. Presley has a hard time focusing. For some reason, the new maid enters his mind. He thinks about her slender white hands, too delicate for the work she does. And the way her uniform follows her curves down to her waist and then hides the rest. What he wouldn't give to be able to see her legs and feet unobstructed. He lets his imagination go even further and suddenly a picture of her naked and sprawled on his bed appears. His cock twitches in his pants and he has to adjust and clear his throat to bring himself back to reality. That's a thought he cannot have, especially not in present company.
Eventually, everyone retires to one of the many bedrooms in the house. Mr. Presley stops briefly in the library with the vague hope that the maid might be there. Of course she's not, but the brandy he's had makes his logic a little faulty. He makes it back to his bedroom where his valet undresses him and puts him in bed.
It's not long before he realizes he's staring at his fireplace, imagining the maid on her knees in front of it. This image is quickly replaced by an image of her on her knees in front of him. He curses himself for the inappropriate images in his head and the way his dick hardens at the thought of her, but he can't stop his hand from finding himself under his nightshirt. She's so pretty and kind and graceful and oh, God, he'd give anything to see her and feel her pressed up against him as they tumble naked together in the bedclothes.
He moans softly as his hand pumps his cock, sliding his foreskin back and forth, his thumb sweeping over the tip to collect the beads of precum as they gather. His hips buck into his palm and he strokes himself harder and faster. He tries to focus again on the actress that he normally thought of when he did this, but he can't. There is only the maid. The maid with her hands on him, with her mouth on him, with her thighs on either side of his hips as she sinks down onto him, with her lips parted and eyes closed as she reaches the peak of ecstasy and cries out his name. With that, he whimpers as he cums all over his hand, his cock throbbing and pulsing and leaking until his release has fully washed over him. He lays in his bed sweating and trying to catch his breath. The picture of her in his mind is so clear. He opens his mouth to whisper, but nothing comes out.
He doesn't even know her name.
******
Until next time...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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