#Poor baby he is going to suffer a lot

[orion-archives]

Hey, I'm finally capable of drawing again since my surgery! A little bit, but getting back to normal slowly :]

So, to celebrate, I did some Kaon doodles! This was more an expriment, looking for a way to show his emotions better since Kaon has no eyebrows or can project things in his visor like his dad Soundwave (only reproduce audios)

I just realized he is missing his cannon, fu–

[eats-the-stars]

also if you have relatives/friends who will not in a million years admit that they are racist/homophobic/etc. since they know this is a bad thing they shouldn't endorse or be, then calling them out directly often leads to denial and deflection and getting really defensive and not backing down.

But if you just say 'hey, it was kind of rude to say X' or 'i think you were making H uncomfortable by bringing up X/making X joke' then they're more likely to listen w/out immediately going to level 10 defensive mode.

Also, ppl who will staunchly deny being a racist/fatphobe/homophobe/etc. will be more likely to agree to simply being 'a bit of an asshole last night.'

The goal is not to get the person to make a complete 180. It's to get them to be a little bit less of an asshole next time. And then rinse and repeat until someday they're, like, barely an asshole at all.

GRADE SCHOOL SJWS stop using social justice language to explain shit to your conservative parents IT’S NOT GONNA GO THROUGH now all they have are some new words to make fun of. don’t tell your mom she’s being fatphobic tell her she’s being a dick

[scientia-rex]

A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.

If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.

If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.

If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.

If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.

You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.

You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.

But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.

Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.

[sunderwight]

AU where there's no system (or a decidedly less restrictive one) and Shen Yuan transmigrates into an OC rogue cultivator before the start of the novel, and decides he's gonna steal the protagonist before Luo Binghe even gets to Cang Qiong.

The logic is sound -- he'll keep Luo Binghe from experiencing neglect and abuse at Shen Qingqiu's hands, raise him away from the pressure of the sects and the likelihood that anyone else might find out about his heritage and try to harm him over it, keep him fully away from the Immortal Alliance Conference, and then Luo Binghe's course will change trajectory because he'll have no reason to want revenge against the world and no access to Xin Mo. Shen Yuan will be able to spare Luo Binghe some suffering and possibly survive in a world less subject to the harrowing whims of a half-mad tyrannical overlord. Win-win!

However, the tricky bit is that he's not sure exactly how far ahead of the novel he is, and also Airplane didn't specify where Luo Binghe grew up. This means that Luo Binghe could be any age younger than twelve and in any number of places along or near to the Luo river.

Shen Yuan decides he's going to approach this by pretending he is looking for the long-lost son of his sister, traveling through the likeliest areas, asking after abandoned children who might fit the protagonist's description. It's a long shot, he knows, and he's mostly relying on the existence of Narrative Destiny. But eventually he is directed by several people towards a particular city, which is not as close to the river as he'd have expected Luo Binghe to grow up, but then again he only knows that was where baby Binghe was found, not where the washerwoman who took him in ultimately lived.

It becomes clear to him, though, that he's been sent to the wrong target. But also why he's been sent astray is apparent in nearly the same breath, because among the slave children living in this area is a little boy who could be his much younger clone.

Seriously, this kid looks just like him! Or, well, close enough. He looks a lot like Shen Yuan's actual nieces and nephews from his past life. It's uncanny.

Also, because of his search, the slave kids get wind of what he's looking for (his long-lost nephew) pretty quick. The boy with the obvious resemblance to him greets Shen Yuan's own assessment with wary cynicism, but he's just a little boy. So it's not difficult to notice the way he's also practically vibrating with hopefulness, half-hiding behind a protective older kid and looking at Shen Yuan with big dark eyes like he expects to be rescued or destroyed with whatever he has to say next.

Shen Yuan has a big problem now. He just knows that if he says something like "actually no this boy is too old to be my nephew" or whatever other excuse, no one will believe him, and also this poor kid is going to be permanently scarred by it. He's going to think Shen Yuan is lying just so that he can reject him. On top of that, he's not in a good situation here. None of these children are even remotely well cared-for.

Shen Yuan's rogue cultivator self isn't rich on the level of being like a wealthy sect leader or anything, but he's made some money since transmigrating by doing random cultivator jobs and quests along the way here. He uses it all to purchase two little slave boys (Do Not Separate), then takes another job and uses that coin to acquire a somewhat rundown manor which used to belong to the local gentry. The Qiu family (rings some bells but that's not exactly an uncommon name) kept it up for a while in case a branch family sprung up in need of a residence, but they've been in decline and the place is downright decrepit, so they had been looking to sell it instead. It's too big for a wandering bachelor like SY to ever need on his own account, but that's sort of the idea. He makes more money taking on cultivator work, at first taking his boys along with him for lack of any alternative. Nerve-wrackingly dangerous! Eventually he hires workers to start restoring the manor, particularly setting up a yard to be a school area, and then starts taking on any freelance jobs he can get in order to steadily buy out the contracts on all the other kids. He gets it nice enough to house and care for as many orphans as he can acquire.

Not because he's a big old softie though!

His story of looking for his nephew is a bust now, since he's apparently "found" the kid. So he's got to change tactics! If he can't find baby Binghe and the washerwoman, the next best approach is to create an opportunity for them to come to him. So once he's got his new household established, he starts offering free lessons to all the local kids. Not just the ones he's taken in, but also any who come by and want to learn some things. It's a tempting setup for anyone who wants their child to get education but can't afford a tutor, and Luo Binghe's mother had been entirely the sort of person who would have packed up and left her situation if there had been an opportunity for it.

On that note, SY also starts hiring single mothers to help look after his new gaggle of children and do the work he doesn't know how to do in these times, like keeping house, laundry, cooking, actually raising kids, etc.

His "little school" is not universally popular. A few groups try and ruin him, because the poverty in the region provides a basis of business for them. The ringleaders of the human traffickers in the area don't want their trade to dry up, even if it means selling all of their merchandise for this round, so when they find out that their underlings let Shen Yuan buy off all the kids they try and intimidate him into returning them (it doesn't go well for them). The Qiu family also isn't thrilled after it becomes clear what he's doing, and get him investigated by the local authorities (read: use their bribed officials and local goons to try and interfere.)

When that doesn't work either the sects get involved, because the Qiu go crying to Huan Hua Palace that Shen Yuan is sketchy and is trying to establish his own sect. So Shen Yuan talks his way around the matter, and frankly the Qiu are small fish even if they're the biggest ones in the local pond, so HHP doesn't care to pursue things much further. (Read: SY could mop the floor with the disciples they sent to investigate him, and it's not worth it to piss off someone this mysterious and powerful just to bully some impoverished children.)

Shen Yuan is appalled by all this bullshit though. Trust the world of PIDW to make it so hard just for a guy to teach some poor kids how to read and do math!

It makes him dig in his heels about it, because he is at heart a stubborn bastard. The fires that once fueled a thousand angry screeds on zhongdian literature site is now aimed at the local magistrate. One of the women he's hired on has some dirt on the Qiu family, which leads SY to dig up some more until he eventually has enough to turn the tables on them. Local officials won't investigate because they've all been bought, but that in and of itself is of some interest to their superiors closer to the palace, and so SY arranges an investigation of his own that goes way further than he thought? Turns out there are some ugly skeletons in the Qiu closets, and the imperial investigator comes down on them hard.

Well, he can't say they didn't have it coming? Though he does feel bad for the children in the family, especially the oldest son, who gets hauled off to jail along with his father. At least the girl is sent to live with relatives. Maybe he should have done more to shield the minors in the situation...?

His kids tell him not to worry about it, though, that apparently young master Qiu was known to run people down in the streets and beat his servants and do other cartoonishly awful things. SY's not sure how much of it is true and how much of it is his little flock of fluffy sheep trying to ease his conscience, though they do all seem to take a lot of vindictive delight in the whole affair. Especially Nephew, who clings to his sleeves and loudly declares that the investigator should have publicly flogged the discredited nobles so that everyone could go watch, and then begs him for sweets as if that wasn't a creepy thing to hear come out of an eight-year-old's mouth. SY just sighs and tells him he can have something good when he finishes his calligraphy practice.

Of course, it's not exactly easy running what is basically an orphanage-slash-school (and maybe a budding sect...?), especially when pretty much all of the kids have been traumatized and faced stuff like rampant dehumanization, food insecurity, abuse, and neglect. Hiring single mothers soon becomes not only a plan to try and lure in Luo Binghe's mom, but an absolute godsend of an idea because SY has no clue WHAT he would do on his own about the discipline issues or emotional breakdowns or acting out that some of the kids get up to once it registers that they're in a safe enough place to unpack their baggage.

Apart from Nephew, SY's favorite kid is the one who came with him, the oldest of the flock of former slave children. He's the big brother of the group, the one who tries his best to look after the others and to not make any trouble himself. But even poor Little Yue is still just a kid who has been through too much, and he also eventually starts having some meltdowns and struggles with processing everything that has happened to him as a vulnerable child in an unkind world.

SY really didn't mean to start a trauma center for mistreated children!

Though, that's still not necessarily a bad thing for Luo Binghe to one day come across, provided he ever actually shows up...

Eventually, Shen Yuan does figure out that he must be ahead even of Luo Binghe's birth, though he still doesn't put together that he's interfered in the scum villain's backstory. Probably something even more amusingly obscure, like the creation year of some random artifact Luo Binghe used in some wife plot or other, tips him off and he mentally throws his hands up in the air. He's got to wait DECADES? Maybe he ought to try and find Luo Binghe's biological parents and just follow them around at this point!

Not that he can, now, though, because he has to make sure no negative IQ villains (who will probably just be cannon fodder for a subplot one day) decide to send goons to literally burn down his orphanage. Also if he's gone for too long his kids get upset. Probably because no one else is as weak to their puppy dog eyes and pleas for treats and toys as he is.

At least it gives him time to shore up his position, and train Nephew and Little Yue more extensively in cultivation. Despite his initial assurances to HHP that he was but a humble orphan wrangler who was only incidentally a cultivator, Shen Yuan does also teach the other kids some basic cultivation exercises. There are a few reasons for that.

One is just the principle of the thing. No, these kids don't all have the potential to become great immortals or anything, but they can still learn some of it and it's good for their health if they do. The only trouble is if they try and push too hard or attempt things beyond their range, and that's a risk with everyone who cultivates. Or even just exercises!

Another reason is that it helps stave off the jealousy that some of the kids have towards those with more cultivation potential. Teaching a lot of the basics all around makes it into just another topic at school. Some kids might not be as good at it as others, but those kids might also be better at math, or memorization, or board games, and while cultivation can open more doors to people as adults, for the children this is generally enough to satisfy their sense of fairness. Or at least reduce outbursts and fights.

Finally, the impression that any of SY's kids might be a cultivator also makes wicked people more reluctant to try and abduct or interfere with them. Cultivators are revered and nearly mythological figures in the public consciousness. It isn't difficult to see why, if even a rogue cultivator NPC like SY* can mop the floor with most random muggers (*Shen Yuan is not a normal rogue cultivator). Not many people want to risk bringing SY's ire down on them, but of those who might chance it if he wasn't around to immediately react, even fewer want to risk that the kids themselves could kick their asses.

Not knowing that only two of the orphans probably could in fact mop the floor with them helps keep all the rest safer, and is more believable when all of them can conduct themselves enough like disciples to fool anyone who doesn't know what to really look for.

Developments that surprise Shen Yuan but wouldn't surprise anyone else who is paying attention:

People start leaving unwanted babies and younger children on his doorstep. Not all the time, but more than once has he had to frantically find wet nurses and worry that he's changed things enough that some fishermen might just randomly drop the protagonist outside his gate, and he wouldn't even know because Binghe would be a literal infant??

Nephew (SJ) and Little Yue (Yue Qi -- only Shen Yuan calls him "Little", especially when he gets taller than SY by the time he's sixteen) are prodigies who get really good at cultivation, really fast, and between that and Shen Yuan's OP skills they completely warp Shen Yuan's ideas for what normal cultivation potential looks like. This would probably cause more problems if he wasn't teaching all the kids how to cultivate anyway, but means his students actually do kinda run the usual range of skills for a small sect.

SJ and YQ swiftly reach the point where they need more advanced equipment than just SY's teaching can provide, if they're going to keep building their skills. Gaining access to certain tools, aids, and materials (like spiritual swords) is a real hurdle though, and usually is for rogue cultivators (one of the major disadvantages of no sect affiliation.) Shen Yuan is hesitant to use stuff from the plot, since it's For Binghe, but he eventually caves and starts going after some things that he doesn't think the future protagonist will miss much. He also ends up buying stuff from HHP, since they're willing to sell things like spiritual tools and weapons if the price is right, whereas most other sects like Cang Qiong reserve them for members only.

They get an invitation to the Immortal Alliance Conference. Not the one where the Abyss opens up, obviously, the one where (originally) Shen Jiu reunited with Yue Qi and killed Wu Yanzi. Shen Yuan debates on going but the boys really want to, and things have calmed down enough that no one's trying to burn down the school whenever he leaves these days, so eventually he figures it'll be interesting to see some of the Cang Qiong characters and should be safe enough if he keeps his disciples close.

They don't run into young Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu on the trip, but Wu Yanzi does show up and get killed, and SY only hears about it and assumes they just missed all that action. (WYZ just got caught by some senior cultivators who recognized him and killed him to avenge some disciples he murdered.) Nephew and Little Yue do meet young Liu Qingge, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Su Xiyan though! Which gives Shen Yuan the opportunity to tell them all (mostly Su Xiyan) that if they're ever in trouble near his school, they can come to him for help. Hint hint.

This open invitation ends up being accepted broadly by a lot of traveling cultivators after the conference, who from then on treat Shen Yuan's school like a free motel whenever they're passing through. Plenty aren't even people SY met, but it seems his statement was taken as a general one to fellow righteous cultivators all around! Luckily, this has some advantages. Shen Yuan has no qualms running off anyone who tries to take unfair advantage of him or especially his kids or staff, and no shame in conscripting anyone who is decent enough to help teach his students, even if it's nothing to do with cultivating, and somehow word gets around and people start bringing school supplies, medicine, food, or other useful things along with them as gifts to help repay the hospitality. Young Liu Qingge comes by a lot on his way to and from various quests, or even seems to just turn up randomly sometimes (he comes to challenge YQ and SJ to fights), and SY's just like "I guess this is happening now" and teaches him to recognize the early signs of qi deviation and advises strongly against meditating in caves.

At one point a young Shang Qinghua turns up in one of the spare rooms, very obviously hiding an ice demon. Shen Yuan again is just like "I guess this is happening now" and shelters them until Mobei Jun has recovered, and sends a message to Cang Qiong that one of their An Ding caravans was attacked and their disciple is recovering under his roof but isn't well enough to travel yet. Much less stressful situation for Airplane (who is desperately trying to figure out what he did to manifest SJ's benevolent uncle from somewhere???)

Su Xiyan seems like the only person they met at the Immortal Alliance Conference who doesn't turn up at their door in a state of emergency at some point.

A few years later, there is a big scandal involving her and the demon emperor. Su Xiyan disappears, Huan Hua Palace accuses Tianlang Jun of plotting against the righteous sects, and Shen Yuan is even invited to the meeting where they try and rally everyone to go kill Binghe's dad. Naturally, he declines to participate in the witch hunt, but the major sects agree to it. By luck (or narrative fortune) Shen Yuan comes across Zhuzhi Lang on his trip back home, and mentions the ambush and his distaste for it (not knowing who ZZL is). ZZL warns Tianlang Jun and the confrontation goes very differently, especially since there's no Yue Qingyuan wielding Xuan Su.

It doesn't go well for the sects involved. Huan Hua Palace gets decimated. The Old Palace Master gets killed. Shen Yuan is like uhhhh that's... whoops? Didn't Luo Binghe need that in the future?? Fuck.

But the sect isn't wiped out completely, they just take a massive beating. Some of their younger disciples end up leaving and turning up on Shen Yuan's doorstep, for some reason. The manor house is becoming too small to account for all of these foundlings! They have to expand. Though the expansions would be a stretch to term a "palace" they end up occupying a much larger chunk of territory, and even investing in farmland and some storehouses to help support the sect. That's still not really a sect, of course. Even if a lot of the business that would have normally gone to Huan Hua Palace starts coming to them instead. Once HHP is back on its feet the stream will probably dry out. Probably?

Zhuzhi Lang starts hanging around. He's actually looking for Su Xiyan or their baby, dead or alive and per Tianlang Jun's instructions, but he uses Shen Yuan's school as base camp for his kind of hopeless efforts to find any traces of them, while also looking for ways to try and repay Shen Yuan. All the kids are just like "oh great, another weird man has fallen in love with Shizun -- someone go run interference" about it.

Some years later, an older woman and her young son turn up. Shen Yuan's off on a quest at the time, so SJ receives them. As is standard procedure he gives the woman a job and places the boy in classes, after giving him the aptitude tests. The kid is cute and precocious, so SJ uses him to distract YQ while he himself sneaks out to go join LQG on a monster hunt (and claim the valuable parts of the beast's remains for himself), and neither SY nor ZZL notice anything until SY's going over the paperwork for stuff he missed while he was gone. Since he procrastinated, it takes him like a week to find out that Luo Binghe is finally under his roof. He's going over the admission form right when SJ arrives with The New Adorable Child to try and distract SY enough that SY will let him go on a solo hunt -- as far as being distracted goes, it is way more effective than even SJ anticipated.

Then he has to figure out how to let ZZL know, so that ZZL can let Tianlang Jun know, so that Luo Binghe will have more family than just his mom and more resources than just a shabby little not-sect! But even once he figures it out and sets up the dramatic reveal, TLJ is just like "great! so can he just stay with you? he's probably fine there" which... irritates SY.

SJ fully conscripts Luo Binghe as a minion in his many cons. He never lost his street kid conman tactics, although he now uses them less as a ruthless survival tool or weapon and more to just get things to go his own way. LBH has the face and disposition of a little angel, which SJ no longer can pull off as a full grown adult, so he fills a gap. LBH also knows full well what's going, especially since a lot of SJ's tactics involve throwing LBH at SY like a smoke bomb.

Luo Binghe inevitably still develops a big fat crush on SY, so this is fine by him. Especially when he gets older, he starts bringing SY tea and making him breakfast and running his errands until even SJ is like "wait a minute, this little brat's stealing my job!" and by then it's too late. Luo Binghe is SY's personal assistant, the disciple at conman puppydog eyes has surpassed the master! While SJ was busy being like "I'm going to trick this idiot into doing my chores" LBH was going "I'm going to trick this idiot into giving me his job".

SY takes too long to officially name his school so everyone calls it the Shen Sect, much to his embarrassment.

[tender-rosiey]

The sukuna with a shy daughter was sooo good. I loved it! Can we have more of them where its just sukuna and his baby girl in different situations and theres a lot of people and he has to deal with his brat?

peasant food — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i am a big fan of sukuna with a shy daughter so i am super glad you like it too

right now, you’re standing beside your dear husband sukuna who stands with his arms crossed, watching with a frown as your daughter hands out food to the poor.

you almost let out a giggle, but then you feel his hand squeeze your hip in warning.

you huff in protest; however, he doesn’t let you dwell on it for long, as he hands you a necklace he just…acquired from somebody.

your little girl, on the other hand, with her wide eyes and gentle smile, kneels by a villager, offering him a bowl of rice.

“here you go,” she says sweetly, her tiny voice almost drowned out by the village noise. “you must be hungry.”

sukuna’s brow twitches as he clenches his jaw. “what in the hell are you doing?” his deep voice rumbles, earning a few fearful glances from nearby villagers. they recognize him, of course. the king of curses himself.

nobody dares to approach.

d/n looks up, flustered by her father’s glare. “I’m giving them food, papa. they’re hungry,” she answers, trying to keep eye contact, but she gives up half-way through and looks away.

sukuna’s eye twitches. “you’re supposed to cause pain,” he growls, leaning down with his arms crossed, looming over her tiny form. “not make people happy.”

you stifle a chuckle, placing a gentle hand on sukuna’s arm. “she’s just being kind,” you murmur, amused by his growing frustration.

sukuna throws you an incredulous look before turning back to his daughter. “kind? they don’t need kindness. they need fear, suffering. let them be hungry.”

“but… papa, that’s mean,” she protests, her little face scrunching up, and her lips wobble a bit. “they’re sad because they’re hungry. don’t you want them to be happy?”

sukuna steps back, his face twisting in disgust. “no. I don’t want them to be happy,” he replies right away. the coldness in his tone is enough for the nearby villagers to flinch.

you shake your head, eyes flitting and watching some of the villagers finally scramble away.

he looks at you with a small click of his tongue. your daughter, however, just looks up at him with innocent eyes, blinking slowly like she doesn’t understand why he’s so upset.

“b-but I like it when people smile,” she insists softly, handing another bowl of rice to a small child who hesitantly approaches. “it feels… nice.”

sukuna groans, running a hand down his face in sheer exasperation. “you’re supposed to be a curse, not some…do-gooder.”

he looks at you as with a quick side-eye.

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, shrugging lightly. “she’s got your stubbornness, you know.”

sukuna glares at you, then back at his daughter, who continues to hand out food, humming happily.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters, watching her with narrowed eyes. “you’re lucky you’re my daughter,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms again.

your daughter stands up after giving away the last of the food, her face glowing prideful but still timid, as she tries to convince her father with her point of view. “see, papa? they’re happy now.”

“you’re impossible,” he grunts, reaching down to ruffle her hair, though he tries to hide the fondness in his movements. the sharpness of his look returns a little as he says, “this doesn’t mean I approve.”

your daughter nods cautiously, before fidgeting with her fingers. ultimately, she decides on something. “do you want some rice, papa?” she asks softly, holding up an empty bowl.

sukuna scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t eat peasant food.” he straightens up, glaring at the remaining villagers who are brave enough to linger nearby.

with just one look, they scatter, leaving the streets eerily quiet.

“but it’s nice!” your daughter insists, her voice earnest as she pouts slightly, her cheeks puffing out in frustration. “please, papa?”

you can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her trying to negotiate with him, and you lean in closer, nudging sukuna with your shoulder. “maybe just a taste? for her sake? please, honey.”

sukuna’s brows furrow in thought, and he glances between you and your daughter, who is practically bouncing on her toes with hope.

he crosses his arms again, acting indifferent. “fine. just a small bite. but I’m not doing this because I want to. understand?”

“okay!” your daughter replies, earnestly, her face lighting up as she dashes to a nearby vendor who is still watching with cautious interest.

sukuna watches her go, shaking his head. “unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s no real anger in his voice now. it’s more of a begrudging acceptance.

“who would’ve thought you’d have such a kind-hearted little girl?” you tease, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“she’s a curse’s daughter, not a saint,” he replies, but there’s a softness in his tone that you recognize.

his gaze follows your daughter, who is now engaged in a small conversation with the vendor about the best rice. “she should be causing chaos, not handing out food like some charity.”

you laugh lightly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “maybe this is her form of chaos. besides, look how happy she is.”

sukuna’s expression shifts, and you can see the conflicting emotions playing out on his face. he wants to be frustrated, to be the fearsome king of curses that everyone knows him as, yet here he is, watching his daughter bring joy to others.

your daughter returns, bowl in hand, and holds it up proudly. “here, papa! just a taste!”

he takes the bowl and raises it to his lips, taking a small, measured taste of the rice.

“well?” your daughter prompts, her eyes wide with anticipation.

he chews slowly, contemplating the flavor as if he’s analyzing a potent curse. you can see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the taste against his own expectations.

“it’s... not terrible,” he finally admits, and your daughter squeals with delight, jumping up and down.

“see? I told you!” she exclaims, surprising sukuna as it is the first time he has seen her so excited. “it’s good, isn’t it?”

sukuna shoots you a look that says he’s still not convinced, but the corner of his mouth lifts slightly, revealing a hint of amusement. “you’ve successfully managed to corrupt my child,” he mutters to you.

“awesome,” you grin, “do I get a reward for being able to corrupt like you do, my husband?”

he rolls his eyes then presses a firm—borderline aggressive—kiss to the top of your head. you pull away and frown, “you tryna squish my head or something?”

“you ask for affection, but can’t handle it?” he tilts his head, a slight smirk on his unfairly handsome face.

“🤏🤏🤏🤏🤏”

“huh?”

“mama, how did you speak in drawings?”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro @your-sleeparalysisdem0n @dindjarins1ut @your-sleeparalysisdem0n

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize

check out my buy me a coffee!

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord

Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.

It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.

She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.

Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.

Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.

Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?

Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.

Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.

" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.

The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.

Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.

Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.

Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.

"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"

"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."

"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.

She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.

Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.

They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)

Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"

Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."

"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.

"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."

Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."

Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.

Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.

Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?

Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.

Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.

She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.

She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.

"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"What did he look like?"

"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"

"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.

Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.

He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.

Then he simply never left.

Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.

Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.

Bruce already saw him as a second father.

He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.

Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"

At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."

She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"

"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."

What?

"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.

For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.

"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.

"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."

"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."

"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."

Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."

Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.

He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.

Oh, how he misses them.

Ding Dong

The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.

Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.

He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.

Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."

"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."

"What are you doing here?"

"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"

"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."

Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."

Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."

"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"

"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"

"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.

"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"

"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"

"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"

"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."

"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"

"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"

"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"

"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."

"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."

Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."

"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."

Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.

"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.

Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.

Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.

"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."

"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.

"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."

The coms explode into chaos.

[thecoochiefairy]

sniffles. suguru getou.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 blackfem!reader, drabble/headcannon, sick!suguru, grumpy!suguru, sweet!suguru,submissive!suguru, dominant! suguru, roleplay, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, size kink, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i’m just horny. sorry y’all.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: suguru is sick, and you, his girlfriend—just wants to nurse him back to health.

You should’ve brought your key. 

Standing across from the door, you impatiently knock again, waiting for your boyfriend to open it. With an unfortunate cold, he’d crawl for dramatics. Suguru was currently suffering with a deadly indignation— his allergies, and you knew that as soon as he felt sick, he was practically on his deathbed. He was already grumpy on a regular basis. His intimidating frame, dark hair and tattoos made him almost scary. But that’s what you loved, you weren’t afraid of what came with him. Here you were, knocking on his door as you awaited for him to answer, holding the bag of medicine and soup he requested.

You roll your eyes as you hear shuffling along the door, yet it doesn’t open. 

You then press impatiently, “C’mon, Suguru. You’re not gonna die from walking to the door.”

When the door opens, his broad frame towers over yours, black sweatshirt desperately trying to hide his muscular build, hair wrapped in a bun that nearly fell apart. His strident jaw glares down at you, glasses tilting as his eyes squint beneath the light of the sun. You notice the redness in his nose. 

You tilt your head as you greet, “Hey, Sexy,” jokingly seeing his appearance. 

He glares at you, his eyes showing no emotion. His allergies were hitting him hard and it was obvious. He was not a whiny man. But in sickness, he would not hide his complaints.

“Shut the fuck up,” He says with a grumble, opening the door wider to let you in nonetheless.

You hold the brown paper bag to your chest, walking in as you turn to him with a soft smile,  “I got you some stuff, my little sick pumpkin.” 

“I told you I didn’t want all that Mucinex and shit,” he grumbles, flopping himself along the couch, throwing his arms over his face with a groan. 

“Oh boy, hush. I told you that it’ll open up your sinuses. Why so grumpy?”

“My ears hurt—all that fuckin’ mouth you got, it’s making my head hurt too,” He says bluntly. 

 Was he being a little mean? Sure. That didn’t stop you—he didn’t want to admit it yet, but he loved being babied by you, and you knew that. He rolls onto his side, facing away from you as he mumbles something under his breath. Despite his protests, he was happy you were there. He missed you.

“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you turn your head, “Maybe I’ll go back home. Leave you to die in your congestion.” 

He freezes at your words, the thought of you leaving and not staying by his side made him want to throw a tantrum. He scoffs and looks away, trying to mask his real feelings.

“Do it then. I don’t need your little ass.”

You roll your eyes. Coming closer, you hop yourself along his lap as his arms are still thrown over his face, the impact making him groan. 

You sigh sarcastically, “Poor baby…”

You then smack his arm, “Get the fuck up, Getou. Come take this medicine before I hurt you.” 

He grunts at the feeling of you on his lap, peeking behind his arm to fully see you. 

“Why should I?”

“Because I have a surprise for you,” you lean into his ear, voice warm and soft, “Don’t you wanna see it?” 

He hums at your words, his ears picking up on the word ‘surprise’. He turns to look at you with a slight look of confusion. 

“Maybe I do.” He says, his stubborn attitude slowly leaving.

He holds you around your waist with ease, leaning into your affection. Your nurturing aura made him soften his attitude, allowing you to finally take care of him.

He lets out a low grumble before correcting, “Hey, pretty baby.” 

“See? All you had to do was be nice,” you kiss his nose, “Hi,” you then say softly, exhaling as you stand from his lap, “Stay here. I’m gonna run to the bathroom, I’ll be back!” 

He grunts, allowing you to get up from his lap with no complaints. He missed you again. Nonetheless, he turns on his side, laying down along the couch as he waits for you to come back. 

Time passes, the impatience of this man making him sit up along the sofa, manspreading with his head back along the velvet material. As he thought about going up to check on you, he heard your voice. 

“Still sick, baby?”

You stand at the door—now in a completely different outfit. Wearing a white button up dress that clings to your frame, it looks to be a nurse’s uniform. It’s sheer, showing all your skin beneath the material, a heart along the chest pocket, your breasts nearly spilling from the top buttons that desperately hold them up. Your heels were tall, red bottoms matching the outfit you wear.

 “Are you ready for me to take care of you?” 

His eyes lock along your frame, tracing up and down your body hungrily in approval. His mouth went dry at the sight of your curves in the dress.

“You’re gonna’ be the fuckin’ death of me, you know that?”

His eyes scan you all the way down to your shoes before he tells you, “Come here.”

You giggle, “You shouldn’t be speaking to me like that, silly. I’m your nurse!” 

You twist your hips as you come forward, pulling the stethoscope from around your neck as you insist, “Now, tell me what’s going on with you, Mr…Getou, is it?”

You looked good enough to eat in that nurse's uniform.

You were right though. You were his nurse. He leaned back into the cushions of the couch, spreading his legs wider to give you enough room to move between them. 

He smirks at your comment, his body shifting up against the couch more. He plays along with you as well.

“Yes, it is.” He says, placing a hand on his chest, “I have a really high fever, I need extra care.”

You gasp softly, “A fever? I’m so sorry to hear that!” You shake your head, “May I…check where you feel warm?” You tilt your head, dark wavy hair flowing down to your hip, swaying over your shoulder.

His smirk grows at your words, raising an eyebrow in amusement. He invites, “Go ahead,” watching your soft curls dangle in front of your face.

He moves his body closer, his large frame hovering near you. He rests one hand on the back of the couch, the other coming to rest on the nape of your neck.

You lean closer,  pressing your hand against his forehead, “Mmm, feels a little warm here…” you then move it to his neck, “Feels a little warm here as well. What symptoms are you experiencing?”

He leans his head into your touch on his forehead, letting out a sigh from the contact. He then leans his head back, exposing his neck to you, Adam’s apple throbbing. He lets out a low grunt after feeling your hand on it.

“I’m experiencing dizziness, a sore throat...” He takes a moment to speak again, “And I feel very hot in certain places.”

“Hot…” you tsks, “Sounds painful. I think you may need some ice.” 

You stand from the sofa, going over to the fridge to grab a cup of ice as you ask, “You’re very…handsome, Mr. Getou. Do you have a girlfriend, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He watched you walk away from him, admiring the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips. He let out a low chuckle at your question, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said simply, his gaze never leaving you.

You lean yourself into the fridge, twisting your hips as you sigh, “That’s too bad…the good ones are always taken, it seems.”

His lips curl into a smirk at your comment, his eyes narrowing just slightly. He watches you closely, studying every movement you make.

"I guess it depends on who you ask.”

You raise an eyebrow, “A bad boy, it seems.” 

“Shit. Might be.” 

You close the fridge as you have some ice water within your hand, making your way back towards him. 

“Sorry it took so long—“ 

It’s swift, you’re good at your game. You purposely trip, the ice water splashing all over your dress. 

You gasp, watching as the water soaks into the top of your dress, nipples poking through the material, completely exposing your bare chest. 

“Oh my goodness, Mr. Getou. I’m so sorry…” 

You lean down, beginning to wipe the floor with the napkin you hold. Your movements are natural as you arch your back, heels pointing towards the ceiling.

He felt his dick jump as you leaned down to clean. He swallows hard, his eyes fixated on you.

“‘Need to be more careful,” He warns you, his voice growing huskier.

“I’m so clumsy…” you pout, “…A patient of mine has never made me this nervous,” you admit with a weak smile, grabbing for the ice that’s still within the cup. 

You slow your movements, still in a crawling position as you look up to him, “Are you still feeling…hot?”

He smirks at your words, his body instinctively reacting to yours. He can feel himself getting harder under his pants, his breath hitching in anticipation.

“Hot as fuck. Damn near in hell.”

“I apologize…Let me help you cool down.” 

You’re a minx. Taking an ice cube within your mouth, you come forward, crawling your way onto his lap. You take him by his hair and tug his head back, leaning forward, running the ice along his neck, allowing the ice to melt within your mouth as you drag your tongue along his throat.

You murmur, “Is that better?”

His breath hitches as you crawl onto his lap, his body stiffening under your touch. He lets out a low growl at the sensation of the ice melting in your mouth, the coolness seeping into his heated skin.

"That's..." He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of pleasure, "That's definitely helping."

Your mouth is still cold, moving down his chest, eyes still upon his as you say, “I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate me assisting you in this way, Mr. Getou…”

"Fuck," he groans, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you farther onto his lap.

He lets out a low growl at your words, his grip slightly tightens in your hair. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and possessive as he replies. 

“She’ll understand. You’re taking very good care of me...” He says, his other hand sliding up your leg, feeling your bare skin.

You laugh, sultry to his ears. You then bring your mouth up to his jaw, stopping right at his lips as you hum, “What if I had a boyfriend…and he killed for me…”

His eyes narrow at your words, a dangerous glint flashing in them. He tightens his grip in your hair slightly, pulling your head back and away from his face. 

"You'd let me kill him?"

“…Maybe,” your breath hitches, melting into his hands like putty. 

“Then he’d have to put up a good ass fight.” He replies, his voice challenging. He pulls your head back even more, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear. “And I don’t lose.”

You’d never done role play before, not expecting him to play along like he was. Despite him not feeling well, he seemed to be enjoying your game. His tone makes you giggle, pulling your face down as you lock your mouth against his, dirtily making out with him, tongue struck out, messily pressing with his.

He let out a groan as your lips crashed against his, the feeling of your tongue in his mouth made him growl and become more aggressive. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as he greedily kisses you back.

He breaks the kiss momentarily, panting heavily as he looks down at you. "You're fuckin’ sexy when you're like this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

The moment you go to respond, his hands clasps both of your wrists behind your back, trapping you in a way that makes you pout. You enjoyed the feeling of being in control, but you knew he always needed the upper hand. 

You roll your eyes, “That’s not fair…”

“Cut that fuckin’ attitude before you don’t get anything from me.”

He uses his other hand to tilt your head to the side, giving him access to your neck. Leaning forward, he presses his lips along the side of your throat and begins sucking on the skin.

You gasp softly at his lips along your skin, knowing the skin of your neck was sensitive. You breathily sigh, “S—Suguru…” tugging at your trapped hands, wanting to be freed. 

“You want your hands?”

You nod your head, feeling his other hand now tugging at your hair, sliding down as yanks the material of the dress you wear, spanking the skin of your ass. Your teeth dig into your lips at his aggression, your skin feeling on fire. 

“Say out loud what you want.”

You refuse to give in to him, your voice going silent in defiance. He knew exactly what you were doing.

Hm, okay. 

His eyes were low as he watched you—evil. He leaned you upwards, his free hand gripping the blood red panties you wore, tugging them to the side, hearing the squelch of your opening that’s throbbing for his attention. 

You then feel the heaviness of his dick slap along your ass, fat tip nudging at your folds, making you swallow. You want to protest. But it’s too late— he’s already dropping you down, skin sticking together from your arousal that pulls along his thighs. He’s deep, pinching your insides uncomfortably, overthrown by a rush of devilishly itching pleasure. 

He brought his face closer to yours, lips hovering over his mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, head tilting back as a sharp gasp left your lips, dropping your face back down to his as you whimpered.

“Always so stubborn,” he grunts, your hips fully connected, raising you forward and dropping you down again, dreading the pleasure it brings you. He thrusts himself deeper inside of you, gripping your face as you want to hide the warmth in your cheeks, “Nah. You wanted this," he growls, his voice low and rough.

Another gasp pulls from your lips, wrists tugging beneath his as you whimper in a pleading way, calling for him, “B—Baby…” 

“Nah, what happened to Mr. Getou? I’m baby now?” Suguru says within your ear.

Your chest rises hastily as pleasure raptures through your body, wanting to touch him, wanting to dig your fingers through his hair. You needed it. 

“Don’t wanna hear all that whining shit,” His free hand reaches between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit as he continues to drill you senseless, “Came over here in this little fuckin’ dress. Bounce on my dick like you love it.”

“Sorry, baby…” you whine, his own strength having full control of you, unable to do anything but release moans from your lips, watching the way your body bounces atop of him—all from his one fist holding your hands. 

He lets out a low chuckle as you apologize, enjoying the sound of your moans. He moves his head back, watching the way your body moves up and down in his lap. He could feel his body getting hotter and hotter.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grunts, his voice thick with lust. He keeps a firm grip on your wrists, watching you squirm against him.

“…Mmm….fuck…”  you curse, your head tilting back, hair moving with you, “W—wait, baby…I…wanna touch you…please…”

"Touch me where?" he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm fuckin’ deep inside you."

He gives your wrists another squeeze, keeping them pinned behind you. He continues to thrust up into you, feeling your pussy tighten around his dick.

"’Getting tight as fuck, baby. Open up. Need you to relax. Let me fuck you. Beg a little harder, too. You can do better,” He demands, his grip on your wrists tightening even more.

“So mean…” you mewl, “‘Know I like touching you…”

You try to gain control, but he’s stronger. He uses one hand to hold you down, dropping you up and down ruthlessly, his other hand readjusting your legs to where your feet are planted on both sides of his legs, evil again in trapping you like this. 

“You like when I’m mean. Admit that shit.”

It’s like a dam had broken out into a river, your mouth dropping open as no noise released for a moment. You then brokenly moan, gasping deeply as you begin talking to him, “You’re in control baby. Love it when you’re in control….don’t stop….o—oh my….baby…baby…”

He felt a sense of pride, knowing that he was the one who made you like this. He leans his head forward, his lips just barely touching the side of your jaw.

“So fuckin’ needy,” he says lowly, “Begging and squirming on my lap.” He lets out a low growl. “So desperate.” 

He thrusts up into you harder, faster, driving himself deeper inside of you. He can feel your wetness coating his length, the slick sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room.

“Fuck, baby...you're creaming, such a pretty fuckin’ sight,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. He reaches up, grabbing onto your breast roughly, squeezing it in his hands.

“So desperate,” you repeat, “…Need to touch you baby, please. Please. Please.”  

He watches as your eyes roll back, a low growl leaving his lips. He lets go of your wrists completely, moving both of his hands down to grip your hips.

“I’m hot, Nurse, I need you to take care of me.” His fingers dig into your skin, needing you to touch him. “Help me.”

This is all you wanted. You wrap your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into his hair as you lean your jaw into his cheek, positioning yourself to pleasure him. Your lips are directly by his ear as you begin to raise up your hips before dropping them down, your moans becoming infinitely louder the second you do so.

"Ooh, shit. That’s fuckin’ good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire as he roughly spanks you, the sound echoing against the apartment. "Taking care of me so well." He grips your hips tighter, guiding your movements on top of him.

"…Fuck...you're so wet..." he grunts, feeling your pussy clench around him again. He thrusts up into you harder, meeting each of your downward motions. He can’t stop talking to you. 

"Oh my fuckin’ god, baby...that feels so good," he groans, his head falling back against the couch.

Your eyes well with pleasurable tears, a soft sob coming from your lips as you bounce on top of him, eyes fluttering back into your head as you messily moan,  “Ohhh…my god. Baby…I…agh….baby….”

He listens to your pleas, his breathing heavy and ragged. He can't help but smile, hearing how desperate you are for him.

"You're so fuckin’ sexy, baby," he groans, gripping your hips tightly. "Ride me good, baby. Make yourself squirt all on my dick. Know how good that feels for you,” He thrusts up into you harder, his tip throbbing inside.

He moves one of his hands, gripping the back of your head and bringing your lips to his mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his other hand gripping your hip tightly as he continues to guide you.

You attempt to kiss him back, your mouth relaxed under his, still open as you moan loudly, tears sprayed against your cheeks as you bounce even harder on top of him, skin creating a loud sound. You feel like you could go into shock at the way your eyes roll, your chest heaving as your nails dig into his back.

 When your hips raise, you feel yourself beginning to squirt, gasping, walls quelling as you drop back down, “T—Talk to me, baby… need to hear your voice. Love your voice. So fucking…” you whine loudly, “Pretty.”  

He feels your tears against his cheek as he kisses you, moans filling his ears and driving him wild. He pulls you up as he runs his fingers against your core, sliding them deep into you as he groans, slamming them in to feel your walls retract, gushing out more as you continue to squirt. Your face is red, unable to breathe properly as he pulls them out to spank you, “Need you to do that shit again. Gonna make you.” 

When he kisses your cries into his mouth, he remembers your plea. He reluctantly pulls his lips from yours, his own breath heavy and ragged. “My voice?” he asks, his hand grip tightening in your hair. “You want me to talk, baby?”

You nod your head, tears falling from your eyes in complete euphoria as you whimper deeply, “Yes, baby…” you hiccup, “Yes. Yeahh. Yes.” 

“You like how I sound, baby?” he says, his voice deep and gruff. “You like how I talk?” He pulls you head back, exposing your neck. “You like how I moan?”

“Love it,” you groan, swirling your hips around to prove your point, “Love it so. Fucking…” you can barely get out your words, gasping through them, “So much, baby…” back to whimpering, more tears falling. 

He can feel himself getting closer, needing you just as much as you needed him.

“I’m gonna need you to take care of me a little more,” he moans in your ear, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin. “You know how to take care of me, baby…I need you to.”

Your legs feel like they’re going numb, at this point, you feel like you’re about to black out. The feeling of you slowing down makes him grunt irritatedly. 

Just like that, he switches your position swiftly to where you bend along the sofa, Suguru now behind you. He twists your hair in his fist, slamming back inside making you gasp out. You reach behind yourself to where he snatches your hands behind your back.

His thrusts become erratic, his hips slapping against your ass hard enough to leave red prints on your skin. He tightens his hold on your hair, pulling your head back further to expose your neck.

"I'm close, baby," he growls in your ear, nipping at your lobe. "Gonna fill you up so good."

He grinds his length against your folds, teasing you mercilessly before he thrusts back inside, hitting spots that make you squeal. He fucks you hard, his thrusts rough and unyielding.

“You know just how I like it, don’t you baby?” he leans his head forward, his lip right next to your ear. “You’d do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything, baby,” you groan. 

The groan hums out into a long moan, your back arching beneath him, feeling as his hand clasps your throat from behind to keep you in place.

He’s relentless, taking a moment to lean down as he tells you, “Haven’t ate my pussy, baby. Need that shit.” 

He’s still holding your wrists, leaning down as he locks his mouth around your core, swirling his head in circles, groaning as he dips his tongue in and out of you just to taste how in love you were with him.

His lips pull away from your pussy, a wet pop sounding through the room as he does. He releases your wrists, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly. With a loud growl, he thrusts back inside of you, his dick filling you completely.

"You're mine," he grunts, biting down gently on your shoulder. "Only ever been mine."

He leans himself up to where your body is beneath his, tilting your neck back to where you’re forced to look up at him from behind. His chin lays along your forehead as your mouth is parted open, hips shaking at his rough connection from his hips. 

You tremble, “Oh my god, baby. Oh my god….”

Your sounds are almost animalistic as you grunt, panting as it shrills into a deep cry, entire body shaking, hearing as that makes him arrogantly chuckle. 

He grips at your hair, his mouth hovering over your ear. “You love it when I make you feel this way, baby?”

Your eyes are closed as you sob, talking through each connection of your hips, twisting your neck around and watching his movements as you quiver out, “Yes, baby…don’t stop. Don’t stop, please…please…pleasee.” 

“You want me to keep going, baby?” he groans, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Cumming…cumming….baby…oh…oh…fuckkk.” 

You swallow, gasping as you dig your nails into the sofa. Your entire body falls apart, barely moving as your hips completely halt, trembling as your body explodes in raptures. Your arousal gushes out again—it practically seeps through his thrusts. His hand tightens around your throat as you groan, clutching your eyes shut as you sob out, body shaking as if you’ve been tased.

His thrusts slow down, becoming more sensual rather than rough. He can feel your pussy clench around him, milking him for everything he's worth. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts loudly, his cum shooting out in thick spurts as he buries himself deep within you.

You’re both breathing heavily, feeling the intensity of your session. Suguru’s unable to help himself as his palm slams on your ass again, leaving you to only whimper in response, making him chuckle.

“I’m sensitive…” you muffle against the sofa, hiding your warm face as you awkwardly laugh to yourself.

Suguru chuckles darkly, rolling off of you to lay beside you. He reaches over, running a hand through your hair soothingly. "Sorry, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "Didn't mean to hit too hard."

You peak back, “Oh, now you’re all nice to me? Thought you were sick, huh? Lying ass.”

Like clockwork, he’s back to his usual grumpiness. He spanks you again, ducking the swing you give him at that as he says, “Yeah, whatever. Maybe pussy was my medicine. Now come give me that stupid ass mucinex.”

“Fuck you. Do it your damn self.”

“I love you too.”

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: ENDING

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[world0fmadness]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✩ ˚ FIRE AND ICE

kimi raikkonen x cky / jackass member! wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter x ( platonic! ) oc son

featuring: a daughter called tilly because it’s just such a pretty name and some dico and rake slander

faceclaim: assorted but mainly lucy liu

୨୧ okay so the timeline on this one is a little messy but please just deal with it <3 i imagine they met when they were around 21, had their daughter when they were around 28 and married when they were around 30… so their daughter is around 16 years old… is that messy? a lot of this is from the pov of their daughter and fan accounts since social media wasn’t really a thing in the early 2000’s and stuff…

reading music recommendations: lost in a contraption by cky - along comes mary by bloodhound gang - your sweet 666 by him

loveuyn: thinking about how in an old interview yn said she was going to keep her first ever car so it can be her future child’s first car and now tilly has it and absolutely loves it 🥹 photos from tilly’s social media

ckylvr: it’s so crazy seeing her drive the car that was featured in SO much of the early cky stuff 💔 every time i see her post it i do the leonardo dicaprio point like “ oh! that’s the car bam jumped off while it sped down a road ”

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

ynlnstomponme: i hope yn cleaned it REALLY good lmao… the amount of times people have been caught on video vomiting in it is genuinely nuts

> loveuyn: not to mention the blood lmao 😭

> ynlnsbackhand: if that car could talk…

> loveuyn: if that car could talk it’d be taking yn to court straight away for pain and suffering

tillyraikkonenln: the best part about being a late 2000’s baby is you get all your parents cool vintage stuff :D

ynraikkonenln ✔️: you’re grounded for a year

> tillyraikkonenln: i’m sorry mom :(

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln and kimiraikkonen

> iluvf1: teens calling stuff their parents used when THEY were teens “vintage” just to annoy them is so funny to me

> loveuyn: crying rn, the time tilly was on live and someone commented to ask yn and kimi about AOL “ what the hell is AOL”… and yn immediately giving her a whole history on how she used to flirt with boys in her school over AOL while kimi and tilly just watched her ramble from the side

> oldf1lvr: she needed to educate her baby on the old ways real quick 😭

> kimicelover: kimi had SO MUCH love in his eyes on that livestream… i want what they have

oldf1lvr: tilly, who’s your favourite grid uncle?

> tillyraikkonenln: seb!

> sebastianvettel ✔️: the greatest medal of honour! thank you tilly, come visit soon - sebastian ❤️

> lewishamilton ✔️: what at am i? chopped liver?

> tillyraikkonenln: sorry uncle lew :3

❤️ liked by lewishamilton

> jackass4ever: favourite jackass uncle?

> tillyraikkonenln: CHRIS! definitely chris

❤️ liked by chrispontious

> chrispontious ✔️: thank you very much tilly, always knew you were smarter than your mother

> ynraikkonenln ✔️: get lost 🙄

ckylvr: the amount of HIM and CKY pin badges you can spot in that pile 💔 take me backkkk

jackass4ever: what’s the nastiest thing your mom did on cky? in your opinion…

> tillyraikkonenln: kissed dico and rake 😟

loveuyn: yn’s grid milf fashion highlight ❤️

tillyraikkonenln: i don’t think i’ll ever get used to people calling my mother a milf :(

> iluvf1: lmao poor tilly 😭

oldf1lvr: kimi in the third picture in a boring ass button up and jeans… i hate m*n

> ynlnsbackhand: she’s EVERYTHING, he’s just ken

iluvf1: i miss seeing her interact with fans in the paddock so much, bring our mom back 💔

> tillyraikkonenln: she misses interacting with people in the paddock! they’ll visit soon, her and dad have just been busy with KJ ❤️

> new2f1: KJ? who is that?

> oldf1lvr: it’s their son! they haven’t revealed his name or anything yet since he’s only 5 so they call him KJ because according to yn he’s a double of kimi

> iluvf1: kimi’s genes are incredible because tilly looks EXACTLY like him too 😭

> loveuyn: she’s a double of kimi look wise but has the exact same personality as yn

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

loveuyn: gentle reminder of these adorable pictures yn posted when she was pregnant with KJ ( and the only pictures we have of him so far )

ynlnsbackhand: her comfy mom era was her best era, fight me

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

oldf1lvr: baby KJ 🥹 you can’t even see his face but you can tell he totally IS a copy of kimi

kimicelover: i wonder if KJ will be the future racer, since tilly is more into skateboarding and photography?

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

> iluvf1: maybe! but is the grid really prepared for another iceman 🫣

jackass4ever: i love how whenever she’s in the jackass movies she’s still a total hardass but the second it comes to her babies she just crumbles 🥹

> kimicelover: it’s the same with kimi! he’s still ice cold to most people but the second he sees tilly, KJ or yn he just melts and there’s SO much video evidence of it 💔

ynraikkonenln: my little girl helping me and kimi celebrate our anniversary by cooking dinner for us ❤️

tillyraikkonenln: i burned literally everything… and i’m not a little girl anymore, i’m 16 :(

> kimiraikkonen ✔️: we’re still grateful and you’ll always be our little girl kulta 💙

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln and tillyraikkonenln

> tillyraikkonenln: oh and did you have to include that picture of me washing up?

> kimiraikkonen ✔️: yes, she did, it’s pretty unbelievable for a teen so we need people to see photo evidence

loveuyn: yn ln… then and now 🥹

tillyraikkonenln: black and white filter on the first pictures made me think my own mother was dead for a second…

> loveuyn: sorry tilly 😭

iluvf1: goddamn, this woman has aged like fine wine…

ynlnsbackhand: just me who thinks she’s got hotter with age?

> oldf1lvr: definitely not just you…

> kimicelover: kimi too though… they’re both so hot as older people… i want them BOTH so bad 😭

jackass4ever: genuinely HOW is this the woman that let dico pee on her in her sleep and only hit him with a belt after?

> oldf1lvr: sorry WHAT?

> loveuyn: the iceland incident…

> ynlnsbackhand: at least ryan got back at him properly for her

> ynlnslighter: those belt whips she gave dico were fucking crazy what do you mean 😭

> ynlnsbackhand: HE PISSED ON HER

> ckylvr: everyone was pissing on each other in iceland, wtf was in the air over there?

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

her parents are in love… gross

tillyraikkonenln: sigh… my parents are still SO in love even after like… 60 years… nasty

kimiraikkonen ✔️: cheeky girl… thank you for taking these pictures kulta 💙

> tillyraikkonenln: wonder who i get that from… you’re welcome isä <3

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln and kimiraikkonen

ynraikkonenln ✔️: 60 YEARS? you’re pushing your luck missy… love you

❤️ liked by kimiraikkonen and tillyraikkonenln

kimiynlover: if i don’t ever have a love like theirs i have failed at life 💔

sebastianvettel ✔️: KJ is getting big! sending my love ❤️ - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln, tillyraikkonenln and kimiraikkonen

[aceyalonso]

ix - the reason i can't think straight has a name

chapter summary : you and oscar spend the night at nonna chiara's cottage to help with "renovations"

alternative summary : sappy couple shit

warnings : swearing, use of the pet names "baby" and good girl", suggestive conversation, smut, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex (use a condom guys!), slight hair pulling, praise kink, slight degradation kink, breeding

word count : 21.7k

a/n : long chapter to make up for the short chapters recently (this is practically porn with a lot of plot)

song : whats the matter with you - lexi jayde

Sunday, 7:31 AM

Y/n slowly opens her eyes, squinting as the sunlight filters through the curtains and into the room. She feels a sense of disorientation for a moment before everything comes back to her. She's still in Oscar's bed, the covers tangled around her legs.

As Y/n tries to turn around, she feels Oscar's arms tighten around her waist, his body pressed close to hers. She can feel the warmth of his chest against her back, his breath tickling her neck.

Oscar's voice is soft in her ear, whispered against her skin. "Don't leave yet," he murmurs, his arms still around her waist. He sounds half asleep, his voice gravelly and low.

Y/n feels a shiver run down her spine at his words, his breath warm against her skin. She relaxes into his embrace, her body molding against his. She has no intention of leaving anyway, but she still turns her head slightly to look at him over her shoulder.

She twists slightly in his arms, trying to turn around so she can see his face. She speaks up, her voice still drowsy. "I just wanted to turn around so I can see you," she says, her words a sleepy mumble. "I wasn't going anywhere."

Oscar lets out a small sigh and loosens his grip on her waist, allowing her to turn around in his arms. He feels her shift her body, moving until they're facing each other. His eyes are half-open as he looks at her, his expression a mix of tenderness and grogginess.

She can see the sleepiness etched on his face, his hair mussed and his eyes heavy-lidded. Despite his disheveled state, he still looks unbearably handsome in the soft light of the early morning.

Y/n smiles sleepily at him, her eyes roaming his features. She reaches out and gently cards her fingers through his messy hair, stroking it back from his face.

Oscar lets out a soft hum, his eyes fluttering shut at the feel of her touch. He leans into her hand, enjoying the soothing sensation of her fingers running through his hair.

Oscar's voice is soft, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. "I like that," he whispers, his eyes still closed as he revels in the feel of her fingers gently scratching his scalp. "Keep doing that, baby."

Y/n smiles, amused by his drowsy response, She continues to run her fingers through his hair, her touch gentle and soothing. She loves seeing him like this, his defenses down and his expression soft and vulnerable.

As she takes her hand out of his hair, she watches his expression closely to see his reaction. He lets out a small noise of protest, his eyes opening slightly. He looks at her with a slight pout, his face a mix of disappointment and fatigue.

"Hey," he mutters, his voice thick with sleep. "Why'd you stop?"

Y/n laughs softly at his response, her heart swelling at how adorably grumpy he looks. "Just wanted to see your reaction Oz," she teases, a playful glint in her eye.

Oscar narrows his eyes at her, a mock glare on his face. "You're so cruel," he grumbles, but there's no real heat behind his words. "I was enjoying that."

Y/n smiles mischievously as she teases him. She loves seeing this playful side of him. "Oh, you were enjoying it, were you?" she says, her tone light and playful. "Poor baby, you'll have to suffer through life without head scratches."

Oscar pretends to pout, a petulant expression on his face. "You're sadistic, you know that?" he grouses, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Y/n grins as she climbs on top of him, her body settling onto his. "Sorry," she says, her voice light and teasing. Before he can respond, showering him with kisses, peppering his cheeks and neck with small, affectionate kisses.

Oscar can't help but smile, his earlier pout disappearing under the onslaught of her affection. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer against him. He lets out a contented sigh as her lips trail over his skin, his body melting into the mattress.

As she continues to kiss his neck and cheek, Oscar's hands start to move up and down her back in slow, soothing strokes. He trails his fingers over the fabric of her his shirt, tracing lazy shapes and patterns, enjoying the feel of her body against his.

His fingers move in random patterns, drawing circles and spirals on her back, tracing the curves and dips of her spine. He seems to be lost in the simple pleasure of touching her, holding her, having her.

Without warning, Oscar suddenly rolls them over, pinning her body beneath his. His movements are swift and confident, and in a matter of seconds, he's hovering over her, his body pressing her into the bed.

Y/n is momentarily surprised at the sudden change in position, but she quickly recovers and flashes him a smile. She can feel the weight of his body pressed against hers, the heat and strength of him making her heart skip a beat.

With her pinned underneath him, Oscar slowly moves his lips along her neck and shoulders, his kisses soft and lingering. He can feel her skin heating up under his touch, hear her breath hitching ever so slightly as his moves lower, finding sensitive spots that make her gasp.

As Y/n winds her arms around his neck, Oscar smiles against her skin, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his. He can feel her pulse thrumming under his lips as he continues to kiss and nibble at her neck and shoulders, his touches growing bolder and insistent.

Y/n's fingers find his shoulder blades, feeling the raised and uneven lines of her nails, the souvenirs left from last night's activities. Oscar shivers slightly at the sensation, his body remembering her touch all too vividly.

As her fingers trace over the marks she left on his shoulders, feeling the slight ridges and grooves on his skin. "Do these hurt?" she asks, her voice a soft whisper, her touch gentle and tentative.

Oscar felt a tingle run down his spine at her touch, the sensitive areas where she left her marks coming alive under her fingertips. "A little bit," he admits, his voice a low grumble. "But in a good way, of course."

His words are half-groan, half-confession, betraying his apparent enjoyment of the lingering pain. He lets out a slow breath, his body shuddering slightly as her fingers continue to explore the marks she left.

Oscar looks at her for a moment, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Then he leans in and captures his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his mouth moving against hers with practiced ease.

He can feel her response immediately, her body arching up into him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. He kisses her hungrily, his tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting and exploring her with a growing need.

As their kiss deepens, Oscar's hands travel lower, moving under the shirt she's wearing. He can feel the warmth and softness of her skin as his palms skim over her stomach, slowly making their way up to her chest. His fingers brush over her breasts, his touch gentle and exploratory.

Y/n gasps softly against his lips, her body responding to his touch. Her hands grasp his biceps, her nails digging into his skin as his fingers move over her sensitive flesh. The feeling of his hands on her body is both stimulating and reassuring, making her feel both vulnerable and secure at the same time.

As he continues to tease her body with his touch, Oscar breaks the kiss and whispers in her ear. "Still sensitive, huh?" he says, his voice dripping with playful smugness. "I guess I did a good job last night, didn't I?"

Y/n responds with a coy smile, her cheeks lightly flushed. "Yeah, you did quite a number on me," she admits, her low and a little breathless. "I'll be feeling it for days, I think."

Oscar lets out a soft chuckle at her words, his ego boosted by her admission. He then moves his attention back to her mouth, recapturing her lips with another deep kiss. He kisses her hungrily, his tongue exploring her mouth with fervor.

Suddenly, the door bangs open and May barges in without knocking. "Hey Osc, have seen Y/n-" She stops abruptly, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her. Y/n is in Oscar's bed, covered up by the sheets, and it's clear that both of them are only half-decent.

May stares at them for a moment, her mouth hanging open. There's a brief moment of stunned silence as May just stands there, processing what she's just walked into. Then she quickly closes the door without another word, leaving Oscar and Y/n alone in the room once again.

Oscar lets out a low groan, his face falling onto Y/n's shoulder. "Fucks sake," he mutters, his voice muffled. "I forgot to lock the damn door."

He looks over at Y/n with an apologetic expression. "Sorry," he says, his tone sheepish. "Wasn't expecting May to walk in like that."

Y/n lets out a soft laugh, amused at his expression. "It's okay, she assures him, propping herself up on one elbow. "I doubt it's the first time May's walked in on you with a girl."

Oscar can't help but grin at her words, his embarrassment starting to face. "Yeah, that's true," he says, his tone turning more lighthearted. "My sister has zero concept of personal space, I swear."

Y/n grins at him, her eyes sparkling. "I don't know," she says, her tone teasing. "I'd say her timing was pretty perfect. Gives her something to gossip about for the rest of the day."

Oscar groans and buries his face in her shoulder once more. "Please don't say that," he mutters, his voice muffled against her skin. "I don't need May gossiping about this to everyone in the house. She'll never shut up about it."

Y/n laughs softly, patting his head in mock sympathy. "Aw, poor baby," she teases. "Afraid your little sister is going to give you a hard time?"

Oscar lifts his head to pout at her, his expression bordering on petulant. "You're supposed to be on my side," he grumbles, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Not making fun of me."

Y/n grins, clearly enjoying his pouty expression. "But it's so much funnier to tease you," she says, poking his cheek playfully. "You make such cute faces when you're annoyed."

Oscar lets out another exaggerated sigh, feigning irritation. "You're impossible," he says, his lips twitching in an effort not to smile. "You know that, right?"

Y/n laughs out loud at his response, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "And yet you still like me," she points out, her tone cheeky.

Oscar pretends to consider this for a moment, a mock-thoughtful expression on his face. "Hmm… I suppose you're right," he concedes, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Despite the fact that you're a complete pain in my ass, I do like you. Strange, isn't it?"

Y/n nods, still grinning. "Very strange indeed," she agrees, her tone playful. "You seem to have a weird preference for girls who like tormenting you."

Oscar moves, kissing her shoulder one more time before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He sits with his back to her, his body still bare except for a pair of boxers. His legs are stretched out on the floor, and he leans over slightly to pick up his shirt from the floor.

As he bends over to pick up his shirt, Y'n takes the opportunity to admire his bare back. Her eyes roam over his skin, her gaze falling on the red scratches she left the night before. They're still visible, a stark contrast to his pale skin.

Y/n gets up from the bed, wrapping her arms around Oscar's waist, and pressing her body against his back. She hugs him from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder. She can feel his body heat and the firmness of his bare skin against her chest.

She nuzzles her face into his neck, taking a deep breath. "You smell good," she says, her voice soft and low. Y/n plants a soft kiss on the sensitive spot below his ear, her lips lingering against his skin. "Like soap and your cologne."

Oscar lets out a soft laugh as Y/n's lips brush against his neck, her affectionate gesture tickling him slightly. "You're so clingy," he teases, his voice a mix of amusement and affection.

Y/n scoffs, lightly nipping his earlobe in retaliation. "I'm not clingy," she protests, her tone a mix of mock offense and playfulness. "I'm just expressing my affection in a physical way. There's a difference."

Oscar laughs again, his body shaking slightly with the force of it. "Yeah, right," he says, his tone light and teasing. "You're like a baby koala. Always clinging to me and refusing to let go."

Y/n grins at his comment, her expression mock-offended. "Says the Australian in the room," she retorts, making a bad impression of his accent. She then adds, with a hint of sarcasm, "Because everyone knows Australians are experts on koala behavior, right?"

Oscar snickers at her attempt to mimic his accent, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Nice try," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You sound like a bad Crocodile Dundee impersonator."

Y/n shakes her head, her giggles filling the air. "What the hell is a Crocodile Dundee?" she asks, her tone a mix of amusement and confusion. "Is it some kind of weird Australian thing I'm supposed to know?"

Oscar grins at her question, clearly enjoying her ignorance. "You've never heard of Crocodile Dundee?" he asks, his tone incredulous. "It's a classic Australian movie. You know, the one where Paul Hogan runs around in the Outback with a big ass knife, wrestling crocodiles and being an absolute legend."

She raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of skepticism and intrigue. "That sounds… ridiculous," she says, her voice slightly deadpan. "Are you messing with me, or is that actually a real movie?"

Oscar laughs, clearly amused by her reaction. "I'm not messing with you baby," he assures her. "It's a real movie. And it's a classic. You've got to watch it sometime. It's pure Aussie gold."

Y/n snickers at his enthusiasm, a smirk on her face. "Right, because nothing screams 'quality cinema' like a guy running around in the wilderness wrestling crocodiles," she teases, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Oscar huffs in mock offense, pretending to be wounded by her words. "You're ruining the chemistry between us," he says, his tone overly dramatic. "How dare you make fun of Crocodile Dundee? It's an iconic movie, a true masterpiece of Australian cinema!"

Y/n laughs at his reaction, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't realize that Crocodile Dundee was sacred and above criticism. Please forgive me, oh great Aussie cinema connoisseur."

Oscar pouts at her, his expression playfully petulant. "I'll only forgive you if you give me a kiss," he says, his voice low and teasing. "You've hurt the delicate ego of an Aussie movie purist, after all. It's a serious offense."

She laughs at his melodramatic declarations, her eyes glittering with humor. "Alright, alright," she concedes, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "I'll appease the Aussie movie purist and his fragile ego."

Oscar grins at her playful compliance, a smug expression on his face. "Good girl," he says, his tone laced with mock self-importance. "You've now officially been forgiven for your blatant Crocodile Dundee defamation."

Y/n looks up at Oscar with her mouth open, her expression a mixture of shock and fascination. "Wait, did you just call me a good girl?" she asks, her voice a mix of incredulity and curiosity.

Y'n holds her hands up in front of her body, her gestures exaggerated. "Oh, god," she says, her voice a mix of surprise and mock frustration. "That just made me so…" She trails off, her cheeks flushing pink. "I mean, you can't just say stuff like that."

Oscar laughs at her reaction, clearly enjoying her flustered state. "Why not?" he asks, his tone smug. "You obviously like it."

Y/n opens and closes her mouth a few times, her usual sass and confidence momentarily lost. "I… I do not," she protests weakly, her voice not quite as convincing as she'd like it to be. "It's just… you can't just say things like that and not expect a reaction."

Oscar laughs heartily at Y/n's flustered reaction, her protest sounding weak even to her own ears. "Sure you don't," he says, his tone dripping with skepticism. He watches as she stands up from the bed, her face still flushed.

Y/n attempts to regain her composure, smoothing her hair back and taking a deep breath. "Shut up," she mutters, her voice a grumble. "Your ego doesn't need any more stroking."

She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to regain her composure. "I'm not running away," she retorts, her voice a little bit too defensive. "I'm just… going to get something to drink, that's all."

Oscar glances down at the shirt she's wearing, which is his. It hangs loosely on her petite frame, the fabric drowning her slightly. A possessive glint shines in his eyes. He crosses his arms, trying to look nonchalant.

"You're going downstairs wearing my shirt, huh?" he says, his tone playful yet a hint of possession seeping through.

Y/n meets his gaze, an amused smile playing on her lips. She's well aware that wearing his clothes is a surefire way to press his buttons. "Yeah, I am," she replies, her voice casual. "Is that a problem?"

Oscar feigns annoyance, his shoulders slumping in exaggerated defeat. "Oh, no, it's not a problem at all," he says, his tone filled with mock irritation. "It's just going to drive me crazy seeing you strutting around in my shirt, looking all adorable and tempting."

Y/n laughs at his response, her expression playful yet a bit smug. "Tempting, huh? I didn't realize my sartorial choices had that much power over you," she teases, her voice light and teasing.

Oscar stands up from the bed, stretching his arms above his head. He watches as Y/n saunters out of the room, his eyes following her every move. The sight of her in his shirt is enough to make his heart race, and the thought of her parading around the house in it is both endearing and torturous.

Y/n descends the stairs, her hair a tangled mess framing her face. She's still wearing Oscar's shirt, the fabric swallowing her small frame. It's obvious she hasn't bothered to look in the mirror or even attempt to tame her bedhead.

As she enters the kitchen, she heads straight for the refrigerator, rummaging around for something to drink. She's completely unaware of how disheveled she looks or how tempting she is in Oscar's oversized shirt.

Meanwhile, Oscar is upstairs, grumbling to himself about how unfair it is for her to look so adorable in his clothes. He contemplates going downstairs but decides to stay put, knowing it would only fuel her sassiness.

Hattie, Oscar's sister, steps into the kitchen with a cheerful smile on her face. "Good morning," she greets, her voice sing-song and cheerful. She looks at Y/n, taking in her disheveled appearance with an amused expression.

Hattie notices the oversized shirt Y/n is wearing and raises an eyebrow, a sly grin on her face. "Is that Scar's shirt you're wearing?" she asks, her voice dripping with curiosity.

Y/n blushes at her observation, feeling a bit embarrassed to be caught in her current state. "Uh, yeah… it is," she admits, her voice shy.

Hattie grins widely, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I knew it!" she exclaims, obviously amused by the situation. "You're practically swimming in it. It looks like you're wearing a tent."

Y/n laughs, feeling a bit self-conscious about how oversized the shirt is on her small frame. "Yeah, it's a bit big on me," she admits, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt.

Hattie chuckles as she leaves Y/n alone in the kitchen, clearly enjoying the interaction. Her departure leaves Y/n standing by herself, still holding a glass of water and feeling a bit exposed in the oversized shirt.

She takes a small sip from the glass, trying to calm her nerves. The silence in the kitchen is deafening, her thoughts racing with self-consciousness. She glances towards the stairs, wondering if she should go back upstairs or stay here.

Before she can make a decision, footsteps sound from above, growing louder as someone descends the stairs. Y/n turns her head towards the sound, her heart rate quickening with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

She realizes it's Oscar coming down the stairs, and her heart skips a beat as he enters the kitchen. His eyes immediately land on her, his gaze roaming over her frame, taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt.

Oscar walks towards Y/n, a soft smile spreading across his face. He stands in front of her, his eyes roaming over her petite form, the way her hair is a tangled mess around her shoulders, and the way his shirt hangs on her.

He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle. "You look adorable in my shirt," he says, his voice low and affectionate.

His eyes linger on the collar of the shirt, the way it hangs off her left shoulder, revealing a glimpse of her bare skin. He can't help the possessive streak that runs through him, the knowledge that she's wearing his shirt makes him feel a sense of pride and desire.

Y/n returns his smile, her heart fluttering in her chest at his affectionate gaze. She feels a bit self-conscious under his intense gaze, but at the same time, she's also strangely pleased that she's able to provoke such a reaction in him.

She reaches up and fiddles with the hem of the shirt, fidgeting with the fabric as she tries to hide her nervousness.

Oscar's eyes track her fingers as they fidget with the hem of the shirt, his mind going to less-than-innocent places. He steps closer, invading her personal space, his body nearly pressing against hers.

He leans down, his head coming to rest on her shoulder. He breathes in her scent, his nose nuzzling into the crook of her neck. The proximity between them is intimate, his body heat enveloping her.

Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the kitchen, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight before her. Y/n and Oscar quickly straighten up, both feeling a bit sheepish to be caught in such an intimate position.

Y/n's mother raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, good morning, you two," she says, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "I see you're both up and… cozy."

Y/n feels her cheeks flush as her mom glances from her to Oscar, her knowing gaze missing nothing. Oscar, on the other hand, looks a bit sheepish, his cheeks slightly pink. He clears his throat and attempts to put some distance between them, but it's a bit too late to make things look innocent.

Y/n's mother grins, clearly enjoying the situation. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she says, her tone laced with amusement. She heads over to the coffee maker, preparing her morning cup. "Don't mind me. Just continue what you were doing."

She shoots her mom a mortified look, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She glances at Oscar, hoping he'll say something to diffuse the situation, but he looks just as embarrassed as she feels. They both stand there awkwardly, trying to appear casual while under her mom's watchful eye.

Y/n's mom pours herself a cup of coffee, taking a sip before turning back to them. "You know," she says, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. "That shirt looks awfully big on you, Y/n. Where'd you get it?"

Y/n's cheeks burn even hotter as her mom's words hit home. She knows her mom has already figured out Oscar is the source of the oversized shirt. She darts a guilty glance at Oscar, then looks away, unable to meet either her mom's or his gaze.

Oscar looks sheepishly at the ground, his mind searching for something, anything, to say to break the tension. But he's at a loss for words, feeling like he's been caught red-handed. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Y/n's mom watches their embarrassed reactions, clearly amused by the situation. She grins at the both of them, her eyes twinkling with playful mischief. "Don't worry, I won't tell your father," she says, taking another sip from her coffee cup. "But maybe try to be a little less obvious next time, huh?"

Y/n's shoulders sag with relief at her mom's words. She shoots her a grateful look, silently thanking her for being understanding. Oscar, on the other hand, lets out a relieved breath, grateful that the whole thing didn't escalate further. But he can't help feeling a bit embarrassed that they were so easily caught in such an intimate moment by her mother.

Y/n's mom exits the kitchen, a smirk still on her face. Once she's gone, the kitchen falls into an awkward silence. Y/n and Oscar stand there, their bodies still close to each other, but neither of them knows what to say. The intimacy of the moment earlier is now replaced by a sense of embarrassment and mild mortification.

Oscar breaks the silence, his voice low. "Well, that's the second time we've been caught," he mutters, a hint of annoyance in his tone. "We really need to work on being more discreet."

Y/n snickers at his comment, amused despite their embarrassing situation. "Yeah, apparently we suck at being sneaky," she replies, a smirk on her face. "We might need to invest in some ninja lessons."

Oscar laughs at her response, the embarrassment from before slowly fading. "Yeah, or at least wear more camouflage-friendly clothes," he teases, gesturing to the oversized shirt she's wearing. "That thing's like a giant 'Property of Oscar' billboard."

Y/n laughs, gently swatting his arm with her hand. "Hey, this shirt's comfortable," she defends, running her fingers over the soft fabric. "And it smells like you… which is nice."

Oscar's expression softens at her words, the possessiveness flaring up again at the knowledge that she's wearing his shirt, his scent enveloping her. He reaches out and tugs on the end of one of the too-long sleeves, a playful grin on his face.

"It looks good on you," he says, his voice suddenly lower, his gaze lingering on her frame. "But I gotta admit… I prefer it off."

Y/n blushes at his words, her heart rate quickening with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. She playfully smacks his arm again, trying to play it cool, but she can't help the shiver that runs down her spine at his suggestive implication.

Oscar grins at her reaction, clearly pleased with himself for making her blush. He steps closer, invading her personal space once again. He reaches out and tugs on the hem of the shirt, his fingers brushing against her skin. "You know… it'd be really tempting to just pull this shirt right off of you," he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.

Y/n tries to act coy, but she can't help the fluttering in her chest as his words send a jolt of excitement through her. She jokingly jabs a finger into his chest, feigning a stern expression. "Hey, don't even think about it," she warns, her voice firm but with a hint of playfulness. "We just got caught by my mom, remember? We can't be doing stuff in the kitchen now."

Oscar grins at her faux-stern demeanor, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're no fun," he teases, feigning a pout. "But… you're right. Your mom would probably kill me if she walked in on us in the middle of… well, you know."

Y/n laughs, shaking her head at his shamelessness. "Yeah, I'd rather not have you die a painful death today," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Let's focus on something less mortifying, like breakfast maybe?"

Oscar hums, considering their options. "How about we head over to your Nonna Chiara's café for breakfast?" he suggests, a smile on his face. "I could go for some coffee right now."

Y/n's face lights up at the suggestion. "Ooh, that sounds great!" she says, her taste buds already anticipating the delectable pastries and rich espresso the café is known for. "I could definitely go for a mocha and a muffin right now."

Y/n laughs along with Oscar, both of them feeling excited about their morning plans. "Alright," she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Give me ten minutes to freshen up, and I'll meet you in the living room."

Oscar nods in agreement, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before she excuses herself to go prepare. He watches her go, admiring the sight of her in his shirt before turning to go get ready himself.

Sunday, 7:52 AM

The ten minutes pass quickly, and soon enough, Oscar finds himself waiting in the living room, checking the time on his phone. He runs his hand through his hair in anticipation, looking forward to the morning out with Y/n at Nonna Chiara's café.

As he waits, he glances around the room, his eyes roaming over the family photos on the walls and various trinkets scattered here and there. It's a cozy, comfortable space, but he's impatient to get going, eager to spend some time alone with Y/n.

Just as he starts to wonder if she's taking too long, Y/n emerges from the hallway, looking refreshed and ready to go. She sports a pair of jeans and a light jacket to ward off the morning chill. Her hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail, and a playful smile graces her lips.

"Sorry for the wait," she says, not looking sorry at all. "Ready to go?"

Oscar takes in her appearance, his eyes scanning over her in appreciation. She looks lovely, as usual, but there's something extra about seeing her in his clothes that makes his heart skip a beat.

"Yeah," he replies, his voice betraying a hint of impatience. "Let's get going. I'm starving."

He stands up from the sofa, shoving his phone into his pocket. He crosses the room to her side, his hand instinctively reaching for her waist to guide her towards the door.

Y/n grins at his eagerness, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Someone's hungry," she teases, batting his hand away from her waist. "And impatient, as usual."

She steps away from his reach, heading towards the front door. As she passes him, she brushes a hand across his chest, her touch feather-light.

Oscar suppresses a grumble at her teasing, the brief contact of her hand on his chest making him want to pull her back to him. He's tempted to grab her and press her against him, but he holds himself back, knowing they need to get going before they do something they'd regret.

He follows her to the door, his gaze focused on the sway of her hips in her jeans. He swallows hard as he imagines pulling her closer, his hands on her hips, his lips against her neck…

Y/n can feel his gaze on her back, the intensity of his thoughts almost palpable in the air. She glances at him over her shoulder, catching him staring, and smirks.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Oz," she teases, her tone light but with a hint of warning.

Once outside, Y/n and Oscar head towards Y/n's car parked in the driveway. Before they reach the vehicle, Oscar swoops in front of her and grabs the keys from her hand.

"I'll drive," he says, a smirk on his face as he unlocks the car.

Y/n lets out a huff, feigning annoyance at his audacity. She crosses her arms over her chest, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're so bossy," she accuses, but there's no real heat behind her words.

Oscar grins as he opens the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to get in. "And you love it," he responds, his tone cocky but with a hint of affection.

Y/n rolls her eyes, but she can't deny the truth in his words. She climbs into the seat, muttering under her breath about his bossy tendencies. But as he closes the door and walks around to the driver's side, she can't help the flutter of her heart at his gentlemanly gesture.

Once he's in the driver's seat, he glances over at her, the mischievous gleam in his eye. He starts the car, the engine purring to life.

"Seatbelt," he instructs, his voice low and commanding.

Y/n lets out a scoff, but she complies, pulling the seatbelt across her chest and buckling it. She crosses her arms again, feigning irritation at his tone but secretly enjoying the authoritative way he speaks to her.

As Oscar pulls out of the driveway and merges onto the road, a comfortable silence settles between them. He lets one hand rest casually on the gearshift, his fingers tapping out a steady rhythm against the leather.

Y/n looks out the window, watching the scenery pass by in a blur of colors. The silence in the car isn't uncomfortable, but there's a tension hanging in the air between them, an unspoken anticipation of what's to come once they arrive at the café.

As they drive, Oscar glances over at her every so often, admiring her profile and the way the sunlight streaming through the window kisses her skin. He wants to say something, to fill the silence with words of affection or dirty promises, but he knows that waiting is a part of the fun.

Y/n can feel his eyes on her, the heat of his gaze making her skin tingle. She steals a glance at him, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his eyes. She wants to act nonchalant, to pretend she doesn't feel his eyes on her, but she can't keep the hint of a smile off her face.

The drive doesn't take long, and soon enough, they're pulling into the parking lot near the familiar plaza. Oscar parks the car and turns off the engine, the sudden silence in the car deafening. He looks over at her, the tension rising between them.

Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to him, her heart beating faster as she meets his gaze. The silence in the car makes the sound of her own breathing seem loud, and she can swear she can see his pulse pounding in his neck.

Oscar leans closer to her, his hand reaching out to grasp the back of her neck. He pulls her towards him, his voice a whisper.

"We don't have to go in just yet, you know." Oscar grins, his eyes darkening as he gazes at her.

His fingers trail down the side of her neck, the caress gentle but possessive. He leans a little closer, his lips hovering near hers. "I can think of a few things we can do in the car."

Y/n laughs softly at his suggestion, the sound filled with a mix of amusement and desire.

"You're impossible," she teases, even as her heart hammers in her chest. "We're in public, remember? You'll just have to control yourself for a little while longer."

Oscar's hand drops from her neck, and he leans back in his seat, his expression a mask of mock disappointment.

"You're no fun," he pouts, his tone whiny. "But I suppose you're right. Can't have those old ladies in the café seeing us get handsy in the car."

Y/n giggles at his pouting expression, finding his theatrics endearing. She reaches out and playfully swats his shoulder.

"Oh, stop being such a drama queen," she teases, her tone light. "You can survive a few hours without fucking me, I'm sure."

Oscar feigns offense at her words, his hand flying to his chest in a dramatic gesture. But there's a spark of heat in his eyes as he looks at her.

"Hours?" he asks, his tone exaggeratedly melodramatic. "You're going to make me suffer for hours, huh?"

Y/n laughs again, enjoying their playful banter. "I suppose I am," she replies, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "You'll just have to find something else to occupy your mind. Like coffee and pastries."

As they leave the car and approach Nonna Chiara's cafe, the scent of freshly brewed espresso and pastries wafts out from the open doors. The cafe is situated in a quaint building, painted a soft yellow with a green awning over the entrance. Inside, patrons sit at tables chatting and sipping their morning drinks, creating a lively atmosphere.

Oscar opens the door for Y/n, gesturing for her to go in first. As they step inside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods fills their senses, their mouths immediately watering in anticipation. A bell jingles above their head, signaling their arrival, and a few people glance up before returning to their conversations.

As they step up to the register, they find Nonna Chiara standing behind the counter, smiling warmly at them. The elderly woman is wearing a white apron dusted with flour, and her hair is pulled back into a neat bun. She greets them in her lilting Italian accent.

"Buongiorno!" she says, eyes sparkling. "I hoped you would be coming by today."

Nonna Chiara looks at them both, taking in their casual attire and the way they stand close together. She smiles knowingly.

"Is it just the two of you today?" she asks, a hint of mirth in her voice.

Nonna Chiara's expression brightens at Y/n's as she nods her head yes, and her eyes dart between the two of them.

"Ah, I see," she says, a knowing smile on her lips. "I was hoping the young lady who enjoyed my tiramisu would return."

Nonna Chiara chuckles along with them, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She takes down their orders, jotting them down on a small notepad. Y/n and Oscar place their order, their mouths watering at the thought of the pastries and coffee they're about to enjoy.

Once they've placed their orders, Oscar looks around the cafe, taking in the cozy atmosphere. It's the kind of place they could spend hours in, sipping coffee and talking about everything and nothing at all.

Daniel brings their food out to them. He places the food on the table with a smile before doing a double take as he spots Oscar and Y/n. His jaw drops slightly, clearly surprised to see them here together.

He manages to collect himself quickly, but it's clear he's trying to process this unexpected turn of events. He glances over at Nonna Chiara, who smiles innocently, clearly enjoying the young man's confusion.

"Uh, enjoy your food," Daniel manages to say, his voice a little shaky. He gives one more incredulous look before walking back to the counter, clearly bewildered by the sight of Y/n and Oscar.

Daniel nods awkwardly, still clearly confused, and walks back to the counter. Nonna Chiara watches the exchange with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased that she managed to surprise Daniel.

Y/n notices Daniel whispering to Nonna Chiara, their heads close together. She can't hear what they're saying, but it's clear they're talking about her and Oscar. Nonna Chiara glances over, catching Y/n's eye and giving her a wink, clearly amused by the situation.

As they dig into their food, Y/n chuckles at the sight of Daniel's bewilderment. She can only imagine what Nonna Chiara has told him about them, and she's amused by the effect it's having on her poor uncle.

Oscar, oblivious to the gossip at the counter, is busy enjoying his food. He chews slowly, savoring every bite. Occasionally, he glances at Y/n, noticing her chuckling under her breath.

Once they've finished their meal, Y/n and Oscar make their way to the counter to pay. Nonna Chiara is standing there, still sporting a satisfied smile on her face. Behind her, Daniel is still trying to process what he's just witnessed, still looking bewildered.

As Y/n hands over the money, Nonna Chiara leans in with a sly smile on her lips. She whispers in Y/n's ear, her voice too low for Oscar to hear.

"Looks like he's your boyfriend this time around," she says, her tone approving. "I can see the way he looks at you. Like you're the only one in the room."

Y/n blushes at Nonna Chiara's words, her heart fluttering at the thought of Oscar looking at her like that. She glances back at him, and sure enough, he's watching her with a warm, affectionate gaze.

Nonna Chiara chuckles, noticing Y/n's blush and the look on Oscar's face. "Young love," she says, patting Y/n's hand gently. "It's a beautiful thing. Just remember to hold onto each other tight, okay?"

Y/n nods, her heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and tenderness at Nonna Chiara's words. She can't help but feel touched by the older woman's wisdom and affection.

Nonna Chiara looks at Y/n with a twinkle in her eye, her mind already forming a plan. She smiles warmly and asks, "By the way, do you remember that old cottage me and Daniel fixed up a while back? The one we turned into an Airbnb?"

Y/n nods, recalling the quaint cottage Nonna Chiara is referring to. "Yeah, I remember," she says, her curiosity piqued by the older woman's question. "What about it?"

Nonna Chiara leans in again, her voice low and conspiratorial. "You know, I've got a little secret for you," she whispers. "If you and that handsome boyfriend of yours ever want some time alone, you can always stay at that cottage. Daniel and I haven't rented it out yet.

Y/n's heart leaps at the suggestion, her mind immediately filled with possibilities - both the innocent and not-so-innocent. Spending time with Oscar in a cozy cottage, tucked away from the world, sounds like a dream come true.

She glances back at Oscar, who's engaged in a conversation with Daniel. The idea of spending a night away with him, no distractions, no interruptions, is incredibly tempting.

Nonna Chiara notices the look in Y/n's eyes and smiles, clearly pleased with the idea she's planted in the young woman's mind. "Something to think about, no?" she says, her voice knowing.

Y/n can only nod, her mind already running through the various scenarios that could play out in the secluded cottage. The thought of being alone with Oscar, their worries and responsibilities far away, makes her heart race with excitement.

Nonna Chiara leans in once more, her hand gripping Y/n's arm gently. "If you ever decide to take me up on my offer," she says, her voice a soft murmur, "just remember, the key's under the flower pot with the red chrysanthemums." She gives Y/n a wink before stepping back, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Y/n nods again, committing the location of the key to memory. She glances over at Oscar and Daniel, who are still engaged in conversation. The idea of having a secret retreat, a place just for the two of them, is intoxicating.

She can't wait to tell Oscar about the cottage, to see the look in his eyes when she tells him about the possibility of spending time together in seclusion. The anticipation is already making her pulse race.

Y/n thanks Nonna Chiara for the information and rejoins Oscar, her heart filled with giddy excitement at the prospect of a romantic getaway.

As they leave the cafe, Y/n and Oscar step out into the warm sunshine, strolling arm in arm down the cobblestone square. They wander past little boutique shops and cafes, the air filled with the chatter of passersby and the sound of soft music spilling out of open doors. The atmosphere is relaxed and peaceful, and Y/n can feel the tension leaving her body as they walk.

They window shop together, browsing through the wares in the store windows. From time to time, Oscar will stop to point out something that catches his eye, and Y/n will laugh and tease him about his questionable taste. But really, she's enjoying every moment they spend together, soaking in his company and his presence like a warm, comforting blanket.

As they stroll along, Y/n glances up at Oscar and takes a deep breath. She turns to him, a sly smile on her face. "Hey, you know what Nonna Chiara said to me before we left the cafe?"

Oscar looks down at her, his brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. "I have a feeling you're about to tell me," he replies, his tone amused. "What did she say?"

Y/n grins, excitement bubbling up in her chest. "She told me that if we ever wanted to have some alone time, we could stay at this cottage she and Daniel renovated as an Airbnb," she explains. "It's secluded, cozy... perfect for some alone time if you ask me."

Oscar's eyes light up at the mention of the cottage. He can't help but feel intrigued by the idea of spending time alone with Y/n in a secluded cottage. The more he thinks about it, the more appealing it becomes.

"Seriously?" he asks, a hint of desire in his voice. "That sounds amazing. I'd love to have some time alone with you, away from everything and everyone."

Y/n grins at Oscar's enthusiasm, but she quickly sobers up as she reminds him of their predicament. "Yeah, it sounds great, but we'll need a good excuse if we're going to actually go," she says, her tone slightly sheepish. "How are we going to justify spending multiple days at a secluded cottage without raising any eyebrows?"

Oscar ponders for a moment, his fingers tapping against his chin thoughtfully. He knows Y/n's right - they'll need a good explanation if they want to spend time together in secret. He racks his brain for a plausible excuse, his frustration growing as his mind goes blank.

"Damn it, why is it so hard to plan?" Oscar mutters, his frustration creeping into his voice. "I can't think of a single excuse that won't look suspicious as hell."

Y/n reaches out and pats his arm soothingly. "Don't worry, we'll think of something," she says, though she can feel a hint of worry creeping into her own heart. They need a solid plan if they're going to successfully pull this off.

They continue walking, silently contemplating their options. They need an explanation that will hold up to scrutiny but also won't give away the true nature of their trip. It's a fine line to walk, and they both know it.

Y/n's eyebrows shoot up as a thought suddenly occurs to her. She turns to Oscar, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Wait, I've got it. I have an idea."

Y/n glances up at Oscar, her face breaking into a sly smile. "Okay, here's my idea," she says, excitement in her voice. "We'll tell our parents that Nonna Chiara needs our help with some last-minute renovations at the cottage. She can't find anyone else, and we're the only ones she can depend on. It's a great excuse, don't you think."

Y/n continues, her mind racing with all the possibilities. "And the best part is, if the forecast calls for rain tomorrow night, we can say we got caught in the storm and had to stay the night. They'll have no reason to doubt us, and we'll have a perfect excuse for being there together."

Oscar nods, his face lighting up as he realizes how perfect the plan is. It's simple, believable, and gives them exactly the cover they need. He grins at Y/n, impressed with her quick thinking.

"That's brilliant," he says, admiration in his voice. "They'll never suspect a thing. And if we happen to get stuck there for more than one night... well, that's just a happy coincidence, right?"

Y/n laughs, her heart racing with excitement at the prospect of their secret getaway. The pieces are falling into place, and she can almost feel the peace and comfort of the secluded cottage already. She grins up at Oscar, feeling like they're one step closer to their romantic retreat.

Oscar grins as he swings his arm over Y/n's shoulders, pulling her closer to him. He plants a quick, affectionate kiss on her cheek, his lips warm and soft against her skin. Y/n's heart skips a beat at the gesture, a blush creeping up her neck.

"What was that for?" she teases, her voice filled with playful curiosity.

Oscar laughs with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Oh, nothing," he says, feigning innocence. "Just felt like it, that's all."

Y/n rolls her eyes, shaking her head but unable to suppress her smile. "Uh-huh, sure," she replies, pretending to act annoyed. "You just can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?"

Oscar grins wider at her teasing, his arm tightening around her shoulders. "What can I say? You're too irresistible," he replies, his voice dripping with mock arrogance. "I can't help myself."

Y/n and Oscar stroll into the quaint vintage vinyl shop, the smell of old records and musty paper filling their noses. Rows and rows of records line the walls, each one meticulously organized and waiting for a new home. The air is filled with the soft sound of jazz music playing from a worn-in record player.

Y/n's eyes light up as she takes in the scene, the nostalgia washing over her like a wave. She loves the feel of vinyl, the weight of the records in her hands, the way the needle scratching the surface creates a sound that can't be replicated digitally.

She heads over to the jazz section, her fingers skimming over the spines of the records, reading the titles with a smile. Oscar follows close behind, his own eyes scanning the selection. He pulls out a record, examining it with interest.

Oscar's gaze falls on a worn copy of Double Fantasy by John Lennon. He lifts it gently from the shelf, the sleeve cover tattered and faded. He turns it over in his hands, admiring the track listing on the back.

"Hey, look at this," he says, holding up the record for Y/n to see. "It's Double Fantasy. Do you know this album?"

Y/n glances over, her face lighting up at the sight of the record. "Of course," she replies. "John Lennon, 1980. It's got all the hits on it. Hard Times Are Over, I'm Losing You, and of course, Beautiful Boy. It's a classic."

Oscar nods in agreement, his finger tracing over the track listing. "Yeah, it's a masterpiece. Lennon was a genius, there's no denying that." He puts the record back on the shelf, his eyes continuing to scan the other titles.

Y/n watches him with a smile, happy to see him so engrossed in the music. She glances over at the jazz section, her eyes dancing over the titles until she spots a familiar one. She picks it up, holding it reverently in her hands.

She lifts the copy of A Love Supreme by John Coltrane, its cover battered and worn from years of being loved. She runs her fingers over the title, her heart swelling with a sense of nostalgia.

"A Love Supreme," she says, her voice filled with awe. "My dad used to play this album all the time when I was a kid. It always felt like a spiritual experience, listening to it. I haven't heard it in years."

Oscar chuckles, still holding onto the John Lennon vinyl. "Looks like we both have a thing for the classics," he says, gesturing to the John Coltrane record in Y/n's hands.

Y/n looks at the John Lennon vinyl in Oscar's hands, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Hey, we should totally recreate the album cover," she says, her voice filled with excitement. "It'll be so corny, but so fun. C'mon, let's do it."

Oscar laughs, amused by her suggestion. "You want to recreate the album cover? Really? That's cheesy as hell."

Y/n grins, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Exactly. It's so cheesy it's irresistible. Please, please, pretty please?" She bats her eyelashes exaggeratedly, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

Oscar rolls his eyes, pretending to act put upon, but he's secretly finding her begging adorable. He can never refuse her anything. "Fine, fine," he says, giving in. "Let's do it."

Y/n places her phone atop a nearby shelf, angling it so that the front-facing camera is aimed toward them. She sets the timer, giving them just a few seconds to strike a pose.

Y/n quickly holds the John Lennon vinyl up in front of their faces, trying to mimic the iconic album cover. Meanwhile, Oscar only looks at her in confusion, realizing what she's doing but not having enough time to react. The camera snaps the picture just as Oscar's face registers surprise, and Y/n laughs at the ridiculous end result.

As they laugh at the ridiculous photo, Y/n realizes that she didn't execute her plan as she intended. She quickly explains that she meant for them to pose behind the vinyl, so it looks like they're kissing in the picture. Oscar chuckles, shaking his head in amusement at her mistake. "You mean like this?" he says, taking the vinyl from her and holding it up between them, leaning in close with a playful grin on his face.

Y/n grins, nodding her head in agreement. "Yes, exactly like that," she says, her heart racing with anticipation. She steps closer to him, their bodies nearly touching as he holds the vinyl up between them.

She sets up the phone again, readjusting the angle to capture the perfect shot. She presses the shutter button, feeling a flutter in her chest as she waits for the camera to snap the picture. The vinyl obscures their faces, leaving their heads just barely visible behind them, creating the illusion of a coy kiss.

As their faces hide behind the vinyl, Oscar takes advantage of the moment and impulsively leans in, pressing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. Y/n's eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly melts into the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against hers.

Time seems to stand still as they share a tender, secret moment behind the album cover. Oscar's hand moves to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while Y/n's fingers find his hair, tangling in the soft strands.

As they pulled away from the kiss, Y/n burst into laughter, her heart pounding in her chest. The idea of trying to recreate the album cover had been silly enough, but Oscar's impulsive kiss had taken it to a whole new level. She can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Oscar grins at the sound of her laughter, his heart swelling with affection. He couldn't deny that he had been feeling impulsive, but the fact that she found their little moment so amusing only made it more special to him. He watches her, enjoying the way her eyes shine with laughter and the way her cheeks flush pink.

As her laughter dies down, Y/n playfully smacks Oscar's arm. "You sneaky little devil," she says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably due to her wide grin. "I was trying to recreate the album cover, and you go and kiss me instead."

yn.jpg ♫ John Lennon • Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)

liked by oscarpiastrii, sienna_cresenzo, may.piastri and 1,981 others yn.jpg that 3rd pic took us a while tagged oscarpiastrii

sienna_cresenzo DID I MISS A CHAPTER??

oscarpiastrii Cute cat

may.piastri please pay for my therapy for what I walked in on earlier, thank you ↳ yn.jpg it's your fault you didn't knock ↳ may.piastri :(

Sunday, 1:19 PM

Oscar and Y/n eventually pull themselves away from the vinyl records, their arms laden with bags filled with vintage gems. They exit the quaint shop and step outside into the warm sunlight. Checking their watches, they realize it's already a little after 1pm.

Y/n looks at Oscar, feeling a pang of disappointment that their little adventure had to come to an end. "We should probably head back," she says, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Oscar nods, his expression mirroring her disappointment. "Yeah, I guess so," he replies, slinging a bag over his shoulder. "But this was fun, right?"

Oscar and Y/n walk back to the car, their footsteps in sync as they retrace their path. The sun beats down on them, but the warmth of the summer air is a pleasant contrast to the coolness of the vinyl shop. They toss their newfound treasures into the trunk, sighing in satisfaction at a perfect afternoon well spent.

Oscar climbs into the driver's seat and keys the ignition, the engine roaring to life. He glances over at Y/n, a smile on his face as he starts the journey back home.

The drive back is filled with easy conversation and the hum of the engine, the sun beating down on them through the windows. Every now and then, Oscar reaches over to hold Y/n's hand, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. Every moment feels precious and fleeting.

Y/n rests her head against the window, feeling content and at peace. She gazes out at the passing scenery, watching the trees and houses pass by as they make their way back. Every so often, she steals a glance at Oscar, her heart swelling with affection for the boy sitting beside her.

Suddenly, Oscar makes a turn that Y/n doesn't recognize, causing her heart to skip a beat. She looks at him with a puzzled expression, a hint of unease in her voice.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice slightly shaky.

Oscar chuckles warmly, noticing the nervousness in her tone. "Don't worry," he reassures her, his hand covering hers comfortingly. "I just want to take us on a little detour before we head back."

Oscar pulls the car to a stop atop a secluded hill, the view of the city sprawling before them in all its glory. The sun casts a golden hue over the landscape, the buildings and trees bathed in the warm light. Y/n gazes out of the car window, her eyes wide in wonder and curiosity at the unexpected turn of events.

Oscar kills the engine and turns to Y/n with a smile. "Come on," he says, his voice filled with excitement. "There's something I want to show you."

Y/n's heart thumps in her chest as she unbuckles her seatbelt and steps out of the car, following Oscar's lead. The air is warm and a little bit crisp, carrying the scent of wildflowers and open space. The soft sound of crickets chirping in the nearby bushes accompanies their footsteps as they make their way to the edge of the hill.

Y/n walks beside Oscar, her hand finding his as they approach the edge of the bluff. The view is even more breathtaking from here, the city lights twinkling below them like a sea of stars. But Y/n senses there's something more, something that Oscar is leading her to.

Oscar stops at the edge of the bluff and looks out at the view, a contemplative look on his face. "It's probably not the most ideal time to be up here," he muses aloud. "The sun's beating down pretty hard, and there's no shade. But the view is worth it, don't you think?"

Oscar turns to Y/n, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I actually stumbled upon this place while I was out on my run a few days ago," he reveals. "I thought it was too beautiful not to share with you."

Y/n gazes at Oscar, a mix of admiration and surprise on her face. "I can't believe I've never found this place before," she says, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "I've been going to Italy every summer for as long as I can remember, and yet I've never stumbled upon this spot." Her eyes widen as she takes in the breathtaking view once again, feeling like she's seeing Italy in a whole new light.

But as she turns back to Oscar, her disappointment fades, replaced by a sense of gratitude. "I'm glad you found it," she says quietly. "And I'm glad you wanted to share it with me."

Oscar wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his side. "I couldn't keep it to myself," he says, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Especially since I knew you'd appreciate it as much as I do."

Y/n leans into his embrace, feeling a flutter in her heart. The warmth of his touch chases away any lingering disappointment, and she feels a rush of gratitude for the boy standing beside her. The sun's rays cast a warm glow over their bodies, the heat of the day mixing with the heat of their affection.

They stand there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the beauty of their surroundings and the closeness of one another. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees mixes with the distant hum of the city, creating a peaceful melody that envelops them both in a cozy bubble of comfort.

Y/n looks up at Oscar, her eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and admiration. She can't believe how lucky she is to be here, experiencing this moment with him. And as she takes in his profile - the sun casting a golden halo around his messy hair, the way his eyes gleam with contentment - she feels her heart skip a beat.

As if sensing her gaze, Oscar turns to her, his eyes meeting hers. He smiles, a soft, warm smile that makes her heart flutter. There's something unspoken in his gaze, a depth of feeling that sends a wave of heat rushing through her body.

Oscar gazes down at Y/n, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. Her hair is tousled by the wind, her cheeks flushed with a hint of pink, and she looks so damn beautiful. He wants to tell her how he feels, how much she means to him, but the words catch in his throat.

Sunday, 6:38 PM

The family is gathered around the dinner table, the delicious scent of home-cooked food filling the air. There's laughter and chatter, and everyone seems at ease as they enjoy the meal together.

Y/n sits next to Oscar, her heart still thrumming with excitement from their time at the bluff. She sneaks glances at him throughout the meal, a smile on her lips every time their eyes meet. The memory of their time alone on hill keeps replaying in her mind, filling her with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

As the dinner nears its end, Y/n clears her throat and turns to the rest of the family, her voice cutting through the pleasant chatter. "By the way," she begins, her tone casual yet purposeful, "Nonna Chiara mentioned needing some help with a few renovations around that old cottage they had." The mention of renovations sparks some murmurs of curiosity among the family members.

Y/n's dad, overhearing the mention of renovations, interjects with a curious tone. "What exactly does she need help with?" he asks, pushing his plate aside and giving her his full attention.

Oscar seizes the opportunity to speak up, his voice confident and casual. "Yeah, Nonna Chiara asked us about helping with some stuff around the cottage," he says, his eyes flickering to Y/n for a moment before returning to Y/n's dad. "She needs some painting done, and some shelves in the kitchen need to be set up."

Y/n chimes in, her voice a little bit nervous but steady. "Yeah, Nonna Chiara specifically asked me and Oscar to help out with some things," she says, her gaze bouncing between her dad and the rest of the family, who is listening intently.

Y/n's words draw the family's attention, and a few curious looks are exchanged between them. The mention of Y/n and Oscar working together piques their interest, and it seems like the conversation is about to shift towards something more intriguing.

Y/n's mom, always observant, smiles at Y/n with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "Oh, really?" she asks, her tone casual yet interested. "Just the two of you, huh?"

Y/n nods at her mom, trying not to let any nervousness show on her face. "Yeah, Nonna Chiara said she wanted us to work on it together," she replies, keeping her tone light and nonchalant. "I guess she thought we could get it done faster that way."

The family members exchange a few more glances, the implications of Y/n and Oscar working together not going unnoticed. But before anyone can comment further, Y/n's dad speaks up, his voice practical and pragmatic.

Y/n's dad, always protective of his daughter, gives a slight cough and clears his throat. "Well," he says, his tone a mixture of concern and curiosity, "I suppose it's good that Nonna Chiara's got some projects for you. But, uh, I trust that Oscar will be a perfect gentleman during this little renovation project, you hear me?"

The others chuckle at Y/n's dad's protective comment, knowing that he's half-joking but also half-serious. Y/n rolls her eyes a bit, used to her dad's overprotectiveness, but she can't help the amused smile that playing at the corners of her lips.

Oscar, picking up on Y/n's dad's undertones, nods in agreement. "Of course," he assures him, his voice serious yet light. "I'll be on my best behavior. Wouldn't want to upset Nonna Chiara, or worse, you."

Y/n's mom, always the lighthearted one, can't help but let out a warm, amused laugh at the exchange. "Oh, stop it, you two," she chides them, her eyes sparkling with laughter. "I'm sure Oscar will treat Y/n with nothing but respect."

The table erupts into laughter and chatter again, the momentary tension dissipated by Y/n's mom's jest. The conversation transitions back to more lighthearted topics, but the thought of Y/n and Oscar working together on Nonna Chiara's renovations remains at the back of everyone's minds. Especially Y/n's father.

Sunday, 10:31 PM

Y/n was in her room, singing her heart out to Teenage Dream by Katy Perry while going through her nighttime skincare routine. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, and her skin gleamed with a healthy, radiant glow. She moved with a graceful ease as she applied her moisturizers and serums, the lyrics of the song flowing from her lips effortlessly.

As she splashed water on her face and looked into the mirror, she couldn't help but feel a little silly for singing aloud, but the music and the familiar routine of her skincare routine brought her a sense of comfort and relaxation. The sound of her own voice, singing along to the cheerful tune, echoed softly off the walls of her room, adding a bit of warmth and joy to the otherwise quiet night.

Y/n finishes applying her last moisturizer and reaches for her phone on the vanity table. As she picks it up and taps the screen, she notices a notification of a new text from an unknown number.

Y/n quickly edits the contact name to "AA oz 🐨" a small smile playing on her lips as she types it in. She can't help but feel a warmth in her chest at the realization that it was actually Oscar who had texted her, despite the unexpected number. With a mix of excitement and anticipation, she continues the conversation, typing a little bit faster than before.

Y/n had just finished texting Oscar goodnight, a small smile lingering on her lips as she placed her phone back on the nightstand. But as she turned towards the sound of the knock on the door, her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of anticipation and surprise rushing through her. She looks at the door, wondering who could be standing on the other side at this late hour.

Y/n takes a deep breath, her heart beating a little faster, and walks towards the door. Her mind is racing with possibilities, wondering why or why someone is here at her door so late at night. With a slight shaky hand, she grabs the handle and opens it, revealing Oscar standing on the other side.

Oscar walks in, a warm smile on his face as he settles on the edge of Y/n's bed. He looks around the room, taking in the soft lighting and the personal touches that make it distinctly hers. He then turns to her and gestures for her to sit down next to him.

Come on," he says, his voice slightly husky and filled with a gentle insistence. "You were telling me how you wanted to watch Mamma Mia, right? Well, I'm not leaving until we watch at least one movie. So get over here, come sit next to me."

Y/n chuckles at his persistence and slowly makes her way over to the bed, settling down next to him. The bed dips a little under their combined weight, and she's suddenly very aware of how close they are sitting to each other. She can smell his familiar scent, a subtle mixture of laundry detergent and his natural, masculine musk.

Y/n retrieves her laptop from the desk and turns back to Oscar, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "You better make yourself comfortable. We're in for a few hours of chick flicks." She climbs back onto the bed and pats the spot next to her. "And you might as well lay down. It'll be more comfortable for both of us."

Oscar smirks at her suggestion, a hint of teasing in his voice. "Ooh, I see what this is about. You just want an excuse to cuddle, don't you? Admit it, this is all just a ploy to get close to me." He playfully gives her a gentle nudge with his shoulder, his eyes filled with lighthearted banter.

Y/n laughs and playfully shoves him back, her cheeks flushing slightly as she tries to hide her reaction to his tease. "Oh, shut up. You're the one who offered to watch a movie with me. And for your information, it's just so we can both be comfortable."

He chuckles and holds up his hands in mock surrender, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Alright, alright. I get it. It's purely for the sake of comfort, nothing more. You're the one who's being all cozy." Despite his teasing, he shifts and arranges his body more comfortably on the bed, his arm lightly brushing against hers as he does so.

Y/n and Oscar are both bundled up in soft blankets and propped comfortably against a small mountain of pillows. They're snuggled together, the laptop perched in front of them on their laps. The light from the screen dances across their faces, casting shadows and highlights in the dimly lit room.

Monday, 12:40 AM

As the the third movie of the night plays, Y/n feels a wave of tiredness wash over her. The soft, cozy atmosphere, coupled with the warmth of Oscar's body beside hers and the comforting rhythm of his steady breathing, lull her to rest her head against his shoulder. Her hair brushes against his collarbone, her body relaxed and loose against his.

Oscar senses the slight weight of Y/n's head on his shoulder and looks down at her, a small, fond smile playing on his lips. He adjusts his position slightly, pulling her closer to him, so that she's more comfortable. One of his arms casually finds its way around her waist, pulling her into a half embrace as they continue watching the movie.

Y/n nuzzles her head into the crook of his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips. The steady beat of his heart, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes - all of it is comforting and calming. The movie continues to play, the comedy and drama unfolding on the screen blending seamlessly with the quiet, intimate bubble they've created around themselves.

As the movie progresses, Y/n finds herself feeling more and more comfortable and drowsy, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. The warmth of Oscar's body, the sound of his steady breathing, and the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat all seem to merge into a soothing lullaby, pulling her towards the threshold of sleep.

As the movie ends and the room falls silent, Oscar glances down at Y/n and notices her eyes fluttering shut, her breathing becoming slow and even. He reaches over and gently closes her laptop, careful not to disturb her too much. Seeing her so calm and relaxed, snuggled against his shoulder, a small, tender smile forms on his lips.

Oscar carefully moves, removing his arm from around her waist and slowly lowering her head onto the pillow. He gazes down at her for a moment, a mixture of affection and tenderness in his eyes. Before leaving the room, he leans down, and gently plants a light, tender kiss on her forehead. He pulls the blanket up to her shoulders, tucking her in to further ensure her comfort and warmth as she sleeps.

Oscar stands there for a moment, just watching her sleep peaceful, the soft rise and fall of her chest. He leans down close to her ear and whispers, his voice barely above a hushed breath.

"Sweet dreams, beautiful. I'll see you in the morning."

As Oscar whispers to Y/n, he notices her stirring a little. Her lashes flutter slightly, and she lets out a soft huff, a subtle hint of response to his words. With a small smile, he gently smoothes back a stray strand of hair from her face, admiring her peaceful, sleeping form for another moment before quietly making his way out of the room.

Monday, 9:01 AM

The next morning, Y/n yawns and stretches, taking a moment to absorb the early rays of sunlight seeping through the curtains. Remembering the night before, she gets out of bed and quickly freshen up. Dressed in comfortable attire, she makes her way downstairs to the living room, her heart lightly drumming with anticipation as she waits for Oscar to appear.

She takes a seat on the couch, her eyes flickering towards the door every now and then, waiting for any sign of Oscar. She can't help but recall their late-night movie session and the warm, intimate moments they shared. A mixture of excitement and nervousness swirls in her stomach, making her fingers fidget with the loose thread on her sleeve as she waits impatiently.

As Oscar descends the stairs, he notices Y/n sitting on the couch, her eyes darting towards him. He smiles, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her waiting for him. In his hand, he carries a small bag, the soft sound of its contents rustling with each step.

He approaches her and greets her with a warm "good morning." His eyes rake over her, taking in the sight of her dressed casually, her hair slightly messy, but in a charming way. He tries to ignore the fact that seeing her like this, all sleepy and cute, makes his heart race just a bit faster.

Y/n stands, her own bag slung over her shoulder, and asks Oscar if he's ready to go. In response, he nods, a mix of excitement and anticipation shining in his eyes.

"Yep, I'm all set," he replies, a smile playing on his lips. "Let's go before Nonna Chiara gives us an earful for being late."

Y/n chuckles at Oscar's comment, the sound of her laughter filling the air. They head out towards the car, the early morning sun just starting to peek over the horizon.

As they reach the car, Oscar opens the passenger side door for Y/n, gesturing for her to get in. A playful smirk is on his lips, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "After you, Ma'am."

Y/n rolls her eyes at the nickname but can't help the small, amused smile that tugs at the corners of her lips. She gracefully slides into the car and settles into her seat, buckling her seatbelt as she does.

As they drive, Oscar glances over at Y/n, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. After a moment of comfortable silence, he speaks up, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity. "So, we're going to the market first, right? I just wanna make sure I remembered the plan correctly."

Y/n nods in confirmation, her eyes still on the scenery passing by outside the window.

"Yeah, that's right. We're stopping at the market first to pick up some supplies. After that, we head straight to the cottage," she replies, a slight note of excitement in her voice at the thought of the day ahead.

As the car continues, Y/n reaches for her phone and connects it to the car's sound system, a sly smile playing on her lips. She scrolls through her music library and taps on "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars. The soft, soulful melody fills the car, creating a soothing and romantic ambiance.

Oscar glances over at Y/n and smiles when he sees her singing along to the song playing through the car's speakers. Inspired, he joins in, his deep, smooth voice harmonizing with Y/n's in a sweet, unexpected duet.

They continue to sing together, the lyrics filled with heartfelt admiration and appreciation. Their voices blend effortlessly, each hitting the right notes and adding an extra layer of warmth to the atmosphere inside the car. The open road stretches out in front of them, the early morning sun casting long shadows as they sing their hearts out.

Occasionally, they throw each other glances, small grins on their faces as they share this moment, singing their favorite song together in the privacy of the car. Between verses, they burst out into laughter, their spirits high and playful, enjoying each other's company and the connection that the music and the journey together creates.

As the last notes of "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees fade out, they pull into the parking lot of the marketplace. They park the car and unbuckled their seatbelts, the final strains of the song still lingering in the air.

Y/n grabs ahold of Oscar's hand, her grip firm and playful. A determined, excited expression on her face, she drags Oscar along with her towards the entrance of the marketplace.

She glances over her shoulder at Oscar, a smirk on her lips. She tugs at his hand again, their fingers intertwining as she urges him forward.

"C'mon, Oz," she playfully teases, her voice light and cheerful. "We've got a lot to get through, and we're on a tight schedule. Let's go."

She grins at his resigned expression and continues to pull him along, her energy and excitement infectious. The sun shines down on them as they make their way towards the entrance of the marketplace, the sounds of other shoppers and vendors providing a backdrop to their banter and laughter.

Y/n and Oscar weave through the marketplace, their hands still linked together as they make their way through the different stalls and vendors. They pick up fresh produce, fragrant spices, and other ingredients needed for the meals they'll be making later at Nonna Chiara's house. The air is filled with the bustle of shoppers, the aroma of various foods, and the hustle and bargaining of the market dealers.

He turns back to Y/n, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hey, guess what I got for you," he says, his voice teasing and deliberately trying to keep the bouquet hidden. He steps closer to her, his tall figure towering over hers as he looms there, his secret clutched behind his back.

Oscar smirks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Aw, c'mon, don't you trust me?" he teases, his voice dripping with faux innocence. He moves the bouquet slightly behind his back, preventing her from catching a glimpse of the surprise.

Y/n rolls her eyes playfully, her suspicion growing but also tinged with excitement. She crosses her arms and pretends to act uninterested, raising an eyebrow as she looks at Oscar.

Oscar chuckles at her feigned indifference, clearly enjoying this little game of surprise he's playing. He steps closer, closing the gap between them, his tall frame towering over her. He leans in, his voice lowered to a whisper, his lips almost touching her ear.

"Close your eyes," he whispers, his warm breath fanning gently against her skin. His tone is soft yet commanding, leaving no room for disobedience.

Y/n, caught up in the moment, hesitates for a second before deciding to play along. She closes her eyes, her eyelids fluttering shut, a mixture of anticipation and curiosity coursing through her body.

With a satisfied smile, Oscar takes this chance to gently bring the hidden bouquet of sunflowers around from behind his back. He holds it in front of Y/n, the vibrant yellow flowers in full bloom, their petals almost glowing in the sunlight.

He takes her hand and places the bouquet in her palm, her fingers curling around the stems instinctively. He whispers softly, his voice barely above a breath, "Open your eyes."

Y/n slowly opens her eyes, her gaze falling on the bright, cheerful sunflowers now cradled in her hand. A small, surprised laugh escapes her lips, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the unexpected, yet sweet gesture.

Oscar watches her reaction closely, his heart pounding with anticipation. He studies her face, looking for any hint of disappointment or dislike, but instead, sees a wide grin spreading on her lips, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Y/n looks down at the sunflowers, her fingers gently brushing against the soft petals. A soft, awestruck smile graces her lips as she glances up at Oscar, her eyes filled with warmth and gratitude.

"You didn't have to do this," she whispers, her voice touched by his thoughtful gesture. "They're beautiful."

With a cheeky grin and a twinkle in his eye, Oscar admits, "Actually, I didn't pay for those yet." He laughs lightly and turns back towards the flower stall, which was conveniently located next to the produce store Y/n was browsing in. He approaches the vendor and pays for the bouquet of sunflowers, his smile lingering on his lips the entire time.

After a brief exchange with the florist, he returns to Y/n, the bouquet of sunflowers now officially paid for and officially hers. He hands them back to her with a playful shrug, as if it were only a minor detail.

Y/n accepts the bouquet back from Oscar, her fingers once again curling around the stems. She looks at him, her eyes shining with appreciation and fond exasperation.

"You're ridiculous," she says, her voice laced with affectionate amusement. "I can't take you anywhere, can I?"

The female florist, who's been watching the interaction between Y/n and Oscar, turns to her male produce vendor friend, a knowing smile playing on her lips. He's been witnessing the scene as well, and they exchange a look, their eyes sparkling with mirth.

The produce vendor lets out a soft chuckle and nods towards Y/n and Oscar. In a low voice, he comments to the florist, "They're adorable."

The florist nods in agreement, her eyes still on the couple. She adds, her voice hushed but full of warmth, "They have great chemistry. It's so obvious they really like each other."

As Y/n and Oscar move away from the stalls, they're blissfully unaware of the conversation happening behind them. The produce vendor and the florist continue discussing the couple, their voices hushed but filled with fondness.

The produce vendor leans closer and says, a hint of excitement in his voice, "I bet they're on a date. They'd make a great couple."

The florist nods, her eyes following the pair as they move away. She grins widely, clearly enjoying the speculation. "Definitely a date," she replies, her tone playful. "They've got that new couple energy going on."

Walking back towards the car, Y/n cradles the sunflowers in one hand while her other hand is still intertwined with Oscar's. They make their way through the bustling marketplace, the sounds and smells of the place providing a vibrant backdrop to their casual conversation.

As they reach the car, Oscar unlocks the doors and opens the passenger side for Y/n, gesturing for her to get in. Once she's settled, he shuts the door and rounds the car, sliding into the driver's seat beside her.

He buckles his seatbelt, a satisfied smile on his lips as he looks over at Y/n. She's still holding the bouquet of sunflowers, her fingers gently caressing the velvety petals. He gives her a gentle smile and starts the car, ready to head to Nonna Chiara's house.

As the moments between them grow heavy with the silence, Oscar feels an impulsive idea take hold of him. He glances over at Y/n, her gaze still on the bouquet in her hands, and he decides to act on his emotions. Without giving it much thought, he leans over, his hand gently tilting her chin towards him, and captures her lips in a soft, tender kiss.

Y/n laughs against his lips, her lips curving into a warm smile. She pulls away slightly, keeping her face close to his. She gazes at him with sparkling eyes, a hint of playful curiosity in her voice as she asks, "What was that for?"

Oscar grins, his eyes lighting up with affection. He shrugs as if it were a completely normal response, his lips still close to hers. His voice is soft and tinged with subtle desire as he replies, "Just felt like it."

He leans in again, pressing another light kiss to her forehead, his fingers tracing along her cheek in a tender caress. His eyes lock with hers, filled with a mixture of affection and a hint of longing.

Oscar pulls back, sitting straight in his seat once more. His hand doesn't leave her chin, his thumb gently rubbing against her jawline. He looks at her for a moment in silence, his heart still pounding from the fleeting intimacy they just shared, and a soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Y/n grins widely, her laugh light and bubbling out of her in response to Oscar's kiss. She lightly swats his shoulder with her hand, her eyes still sparkling with affection. Her voice is laced with playful scolding, yet softened by her evident enjoyment of his spontaneous gesture.

"Drive already," she says, still giggling slightly. "Before we end up getting in trouble for loitering."

Oscar chuckles and nods, his eyes still glued to her smile. He pulls away, his hand leaving her chin reluctantly, but his fingers lingering on her hand for a brief moment as if reluctant to break the connection. He ignites the car and starts pulling out of the parking spot, his grin mirroring her own.

Monday, 10:56 AM

After a short drive, they arrive at Nonna Chiara's charming cottage. The car comes to a stop in front of the quaint house, its white facade and green shutters adding to its picturesque charm. The surroundings are peaceful, the countryside providing a serene backdrop to the cozy cottage.

Y/n looks up at the cottage, a wave of nostalgia and comfort washing over her as she takes in the familiar sight. She can't help but smile, her eyes lingering on the cottage's warm, inviting windows and the little porch where she used to sit and talk with Nonna Chiara as a child.

Beside her, Oscar turns off the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, but he keeps his eyes on the cottage as well, noting the peaceful, idyllic atmosphere of the surroundings. He glances at Y/n, her smile speaks volumes about the feelings this place holds for her.

As Y/n walks towards the door, her eyes scan the quaint porch of the cottage, searching for the familiar potted red chrysanthemums that Nonna Chiara always kept near the entrance. The chrysanthemums were her favorite flowers, and the sight of them was always a warm welcome to the cottage.

Oscar follows close behind, his hands carrying the bags of freshly bought produce. He watches as Y/n's gaze travels over the porch, looking for the telltale reds and yellows of the chrysanthemum pots.

Finally, Y/n spots the pot tucked in a corner beside the door, the red chrysanthemums in full bloom and standing in vibrant contrast against the white walls of the cottage. She stops in front of it, a small smile of nostalgia and happiness on her lips as she looks down at the familiar flowers.

She reaches out a hand, gently touching the petals, feeling the silky smoothness against her fingertips. The chrysanthemums always reminded her of Nonna Chiara, of the countless hours spent talking and laughing with her on this porch, the scent of the flowers filling the air, and the sunlight dancing on the petals.

With a soft tug, Y/n lifts the pot and retrieves the key hidden underneath, her fingers gently running over the smooth surface of the pot before finding the cold, slender shape of the key. She straightens up, clutching the key in her hand, and turns towards the door.

Her hand is a bit shaky as she slides the key into the lock, the familiar feel of the gesture stirring a mix of anticipation and emotion within her. The lock clicks open, and she slowly pushes the door open, the creak of the old hinges breaking the silent anticipation.

With a soft tug, Y/n lifts the pot and retrieves the key hidden underneath, her fingers gently running over the smooth surface of the pot before finding the cold, slender shape of the key. She straightens up, clutching the key in her hand, and turns towards the door.

Oscar watches her, his eyes attentive and observant. He notices the slight tremble in her hand as she turns the key, the way her breath hitches as the door slowly creaks open. It's clear that this place holds a lot of significance for her, her emotions and memories are intertwined with the very essence of the cottage.

As they step inside, the cottage embraces them with its warm, Mediterranean charm. The interior is bathed in soft, natural light that filters through the windows, casting a nostalgic, cozy atmosphere over the room.

The walls are painted in earthy tones, and traditional decor items and family heirlooms dot the space. A faint, familiar scent lingers in the air, a mix of herbs, old books, and a hint of Nonna Chiara's favorite cooking spices.

Oscar closes the door with his leg, he turns his attention to Y/n, a warm smile on his face. He watches as she relaxes on the couch, her body sinking into the cushions, her eyes closed in contentment. He steps further into the living room, taking in the comfort and nostalgia of the cottage himself.

Oscar walks over to Y/n, standing beside the couch and looking down at her with a soft, affectionate smile. He lets out a gentle chuckle and says, "Looks like someone's making themselves right at home."

Y/n opens her eyes, a lazy, content expression on her face. She looks up at Oscar, her lips curving into a soft smile. Her voice is a bit muffled as she speaks, her words tinged with nostalgia and a hint of playfulness. "Well, you can't blame me. This couch is as close to heaven as I get."

Oscar sets the bags of produce on the old wooden center table, the sound of the fruits and vegetables clinking together breaking the peaceful silence of the cottage. He glances at the table, the fruits and vegetables a vibrant splash of color against the old, weathered wood.

He lays down beside her, his head resting against the softness of her chest. His body molding to the comfortable, familiar cushion of the sofa, and he lets out a soft exhale, his breath mingling with hers.

As he settles into place, he can feel the steady beat of her heart beneath his ear, a soothing rhythm that fills his senses and makes him feel at ease.

She giggles as their hands intertwine, her chest moving slightly beneath his head. The sound of her laughter fills the space, a bubbly, carefree sound that spreads warmth through the atmosphere. She looks down at him, her eyes sparkling with affection and a hint of mischief.

As they lie there together, Oscar lifts his head slightly to look at Y/n, a thoughtful expression on his face. He breaks the comfortable silence, his voice soft and warm. "So, what should we do now?"

He props himself up on his elbow, his head resting against his palm, as he gazes at her with a curious, affectionate smile. His eyes trace over her face, taking in the way the soft light of the cottage dances over her features.

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for her answer, anticipating whatever idea she might have. He's quite content with the current moment, lying beside her on the cozy couch, but he's always open to whatever she might suggest.

The silence stretches on for a moment, but it's a comfortable quiet, filled with expectation. He continues to look at her, his gaze a mix of admiration and curiosity. He waits patiently for her response, his mind already considering the possibilities of the rest of the afternoon.

Y/n smiles at his question, her eyes studying his face for a moment. She thinks for a few seconds, mulling over their options, but her decision is already made. She grins, a flicker of mischief in her expression.

"Well," she says, her fingers idly playing with his. "There's one thing I've always wanted to do in this old cottage…"

"And what's that?" he asks, his voice curious and eager. He can tell by the sparkle in her eyes that she has something in mind, something that is sure to make this afternoon memorable.

He repositions himself, shifting so he can give her his full attention, his gaze fixed on her face as he waits for her answer. He can sense her excitement, and it only makes him more intrigued about whatever idea she has for them.

Y/n grins widely, her eyes dancing with excitement. She glances around the cottage, as if to make sure the coast is clear, and then turns back to him, her voice filled with anticipation. "You have to promise not to laugh or find this silly…"

Oscar's curiosity grows, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He can tell that whatever she's about to suggest must be something really special or unusual.

He looks at her with an amused and affectionate smile, his voice sincere and reassuring. "I promise," he says, his eyes meeting hers with earnestness. "I won't laugh or think it's silly, whatever it is."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her cheeks flushing slightly with a combination of sheepishness and excitement. She looks at him, trying to gauge his reaction, before finally speaking again, her voice soft and just above a whisper. "Let's play hide-and-seek."

As soon as the words leave her lips, Oscar can't help but let out a small burst of laughter. It's not a mocking laugh, but a surprised and amused one, filled with a fond affection.

"Hide-and-seek!?" he repeats, his laughter tinged with disbelief and joy. He glances around the cottage, its quaint rooms and nooks suddenly transformed into potential hiding spots in his mind.

His voice is light and filled with a hint of incredulity. He can't believe she suggested something so unexpected, but at the same time, he's utterly charmed. The thought of playing a childlike game in the old cottage, filled with memories and nostalgia, has a certain appeal that he can't deny.

He grins at her, his eyes dancing with a mixture of amusement and delight. He can feel the excitement building between them, the atmosphere crackling with a youthful energy.

"You're serious about this?" he asks, his voice filled with surprise but laced with eagerness.

Y/n nods, her sheepish smile turning into a grin. She looks at him, her eyes sparkling with the anticipation of a challenge. She can see the spark of joy and excitement in his gaze, and it only fuels her own enthusiasm.

"Dead serious," she replies, her voice firm and eager. "I've always wanted to play hide-and-seek here. There are so many good hiding spots."

She glances around the cozy cottage, her mind already racing with plans for potential hiding places. The thought of running and hiding in the familiar rooms, like they did as kids, feels like a burst of nostalgia mixed with a dash of adventure. She glances back at him, her voice filled with determination.

"You can't say no," she adds, lifting a finger in a mock-threatening gesture. "It'll be fun. Trust me."

Oscar grins at her playful threat. The thought of saying no never even crossed his mind, not after seeing her excitement and determination. He can feel his own heart rate pick up, the thrill of the idea of playing hide-and-seek seeping into his veins like adrenaline.

Oscar and Y/n face each other, eyes locked in a determined stare. It's a game of rock paper scissors, the winner deciding who seeks first. Tension hangs in the air as they countdown in sync.

"One… two… three!"

Their hands go up, forming their chosen shape. But it's Y/n's paper that beats Oscar's rock.

As the game concludes, a smug grin spreads across Y/n's face. She let out a victorious laugh, her hand raised in celebration. She had won, which meant she would hide first while Oscar would seek.

"Ha, I win!" she exclaims, her tone filled with triumph and joy. "Looks like you have to count first, while I find the perfect hiding spot."

Her eyes sparkle with a mix of excitement and mischief, already contemplating where to hide. She looks around the room, surveying the furniture and corners with a shrewd eye. The cottage feels like a playground for the game, full of potential hiding spots.

Meanwhile, Oscar's expression morphs into a feigned pout. He acts disappointed, his shoulders slumped and his lips turned down in a mock-hurt frown. But behind his jokingly hurt expression, there's a twinkle in his eyes, a hint of the eagerness to find her and win the game.

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head in mock disappointment. He moves to the center of the room, his hands covering his eyes as he begins to count loudly and slowly. He begins counting, his voice echoing through the cottage, while he keeps his eyes covered tightly with his hands. "One… two… three… four… five…"

Y/n grins as she watches him cover his eyes and start counting. She takes the opportunity to quietly slip away, her footsteps light and almost imperceptible. She tiptoed around the room, her mind whirling with where she could hide.

Y/n sneaks silently toward the old, wooden cupboard in the corner of the room. The kitchen-like room is small, and the cupboard is situated right next to the oven. She looks around, making sure Oscar hasn't peeked, before carefully opening the cupboard door and squeezing herself inside, her small frame fitting just perfectly among the bowls, jars, and pans.

Y/n sneaks silently towards the old cupboard in the corner of the room. It's an antique piece, with dark wooden panels and a small latch on the front. She opens the cupboard, its familiar creaks of protest like a comforting sound to her ears. She steps inside, carefully closing the door behind her. She is now hidden in the shadows of the cupboard, the walls hiding her from Oscar's sight.

She presses against the back of the cupboard, her breath held in anticipation. She can hear Oscar's voice counting, his tone loud and steady, slowly approaching the number they agreed on. A shiver of excitement runs through her as she awaits the moment he'll start searching.

The seconds tick by, each one making her heart beat faster. She can hear Oscar's voice growing closer to the end of his countdown, each number bringing him closer to finding her. The thought of being found fills her with a strange mix of thrill and anticipation.

Finally, Oscar reaches the agreed number, marking the end of his countdown. He finishes his last "twenty" with a flourish, his voice echoing through the cottage before falling silent. The room suddenly fills with an anticipatory hush, the silence heavy with the knowledge that the game has begun.

Oscar lowers his hands from his eyes, his gaze scanning the room with focused attention. He looks around the space, his eyes searching for any hint of her presence. But she is hidden well, the shadows and silence of the cupboard cloaking her from his view.

He moves slowly, his footsteps quiet but deliberate, as he starts to investigate the different spots in the room. He checks under the furniture and peeks into the corners, but she remains hidden, the cupboard keeping her concealed.

Oscar hears a soft noise coming from the cupboard, a small rustle, or a tiny breath. He grins to himself, knowing instantly that he's found her. But instead of calmly opening the cupboard, he decides to have a bit of fun. He stands right in front of the cupboard, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He takes a deep breath, his heart racing with anticipation, and suddenly opens the cupboard, yelling "BOO!"

Y/n lets out a shrill scream when the cupboard door suddenly opens, her heart leaping into her throat. She had been so focused on being quiet and stealthy that the sudden loud noise completely startled her. She was so sure that she had managed to remain hidden, but Oscar managed to find her unexpectedly.

Oscar staggers back a bit in surprise, his cheek slightly red from the impact of her hand. He wasn't expecting such a strong reaction, and for a moment, he stood there with a mix of surprise and pain on his face. He rubs his cheek gently, a small hint of a smile on his face despite the stinging sensation.

He looks at her, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. He wasn't mad, far from it. In fact, he found her reaction quite cute and endearing. He glances at her, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Did I scare you that bad?" he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and disbelief. He keeps rubbing his cheek, the feeling of her slap still lingering on his skin.

Y/n can't help but laugh at the unexpected turn of events. The mixture of adrenaline, surprise, and the fact that she accidentally slapped Oscar is enough to bring a wave of laughter bubbling up from within her. She gently holds his cheek, her fingers tracing over the skin as she giggles away.

Y/n takes a few moments to catch her breath and compose herself, still giggling slightly as she looks at Oscar. She can see the slight redness on his cheek, and she feels a slight pang of remorse for reacting so strongly. She takes a deep breath and smiles apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice still tinged with laughter but sincere.

She gently caresses his cheek again, her touch a mixture of soothing and apologetic. Her eyes sparkle with a hint of embarrassment and guilt. She didn't mean to hit him so hard, it was just a surprised reflex.

Oscar laughs, shaking his head lightly as he looks at her. He can see the guilt lingering in her eyes and he wants to reassure her that he's not mad at her for the unexpected slap.

"Yeah, maybe that's our one and only round," he replies, his tone light and jestful. "We don't want my face turning any redder, right?"

He flashes her a playful grin, silently telling her that it's all in good fun and that he's not actually upset with her. He reaches up, gently taking her hand that's still resting on his cheek, and gives it a gentle squeeze.

His touch is affectionate and reassuring, a silent message of forgiveness and understanding. He doesn't want her to linger in the moment, not when they are having so much fun and joy in the old cottage.

With the game of hide and seek concluded, Y/n and Oscar make their way back to the cozy couch in the living room. The thrill of the game still tingles in Y/n's stomach, her hand remaining holding Oscar's as they sit down again.

Oscar sprawls onto the couch, pulling Y/n down with him as he lays back. He wraps his arms around her, tugging her against him. He looks up at her, a relaxed smile on his face.

The soft cushions of the couch form a comfortable bed for them, the light from the room just right for this moment. He pulls her tighter against him, her body fitting perfectly against his. He lets out a content sigh, his hands gently tracing patterns on her back.

As Y/n lies against Oscar, a sudden memory surfaces in her mind. She abruptly remembers the lipstick she bought the previous day, the one she hadn't had the chance to use yet. Her eyes widen slightly, and she looks at Oscar, an idea forming in her mind.

Y/n disentangles herself from Oscar's arms, her movement quick and eager. Oscar watches her get up puzzled, a slight frown on his face.

"Where are you going?" he asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

Y/n walks over to her bag and digs out the newly purchased lipstick. She takes a moment to observe it, the sleek and shiny tube catching the light. She then turns to the nearby mirror, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Lipstick," she says excitedly.

She uncaps the lipstick, bringing it up to her lips. With steady and practiced motions, she applies the new shade, careful not to stray outside the lines.

Oscar watches Y/n from his position on the couch, his gaze fixated on her every move as she applies the lipstick. A soft smile graces his lips, his eyes watching her intently. The sight of her carefully applying makeup is oddly mesmerizing and cute to him.

Y/n finishes applying the lipstick, her lips now sporting a fresh and vibrant hue. She smiles, satisfied with the result before turning back to Oscar. She walks back to the couch and sits down next to him, her movements graceful and elegant.

She looks at Oscar, her eyes sparkling with a hint of satisfaction and confidence, the new lipstick emphasizing the natural beauty of her features even more.

Y/n turns to Oscar, her eyes searching his face for a reaction. She's curious to know his opinion about the new look, her heart beating just a bit faster at the prospect of his answer. She speaks up, her voice soft but eager. "Does it look good on me?"

Oscar looks at Y/n, his eyes roaming over her face and taking in the new look. The new shade of lipstick accentuates her lips, bringing out her natural charm and making her look even more beautiful than usual.

He smiles warmly at her and says, "You look gorgeous," his voice is sincere and full of admiration.

Y/n leans in and places a light kiss on Oscar's cheek, the new shade of lipstick leaving a faint, but noticeable mark behind. She pulls back slightly, a satisfied smile on her face, enjoying the sight of the lipstick mark her kiss left on his skin.

Oscar starts to speak, but before he can say anything, Y/n swoops in and starts planting more kisses on his face, her lips leaving a trail of lipstick marks on his cheeks, forehead, and even his nose. With a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, she smooches him repeatedly, each kiss leaving a vibrant mark behind.

Monday, 4:51 PM

Some time passes and now Oscar and Y/n are getting ready to prepare dinner. The day has advanced and hunger has slowly encroached on their stomachs. They make their way to the kitchen, eager to get started on the cooking.

They enter the kitchen, the evening light filtering in through the windows. Y/n glances around, her eyes falling on the various cooking supplies and ingredients laid out on the counter.

Y/n looks at the ingredients spread before them and says with confidence, "We should make pasta. It's simple and easy to prepare." With a smile, she begins to take out the things they would need: pasta, sauce, cheese, and other toppings of their choosing.

As Y/n works on preparing the pasta and sauce, she pulls her hair back into a tidy ponytail, the movement swift and effortless. Her hair is swept up and out of her face, held back by a soft scrunchie. She glances at Oscar and notices him staring, a small smile playing on her lips.

She raises an eyebrow at him, a hint of curiosity in her expression. "What are you staring at?" she asks, her voice lighthearted and playful, as she continues stirring the sauce.

Oscar shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his face as he is caught staring. He looks away for a moment before turning back to her, his eyes still admiring her appearance. "Just thinking about how cute you look with your hair up like that," he replies, his tone affectionate.

Y/n can't help but blush at his compliment, the heat rising to her cheeks. She smiles, her heart fluttering a bit at his words. "Oh, really?" she teases, a hint of coyness in her tone, "You're just trying to flatter me so I'll make the pasta better." She gives him a playful wink, continuing to stir the sauce.

Oscar stands up from his spot and walks over to Y/n, sneaking up behind her while she's stirring the sauce. He encircles her in a warm and tight hug, his arms wrapping gently around her, pulling her back against his chest.

His arms tighten around her, holding her closer against his chest. He can feel the warmth of her body against him and the rapid beating of her heart, the subtle signs of his effect on her. He grins against her skin, his lips lingering just a bit longer on her neck before he speaks into her ear.

"You know," he murmurs, his voice low and a bit huskier than usual, "I think the pasta's gonna taste better if you're distracted." His breath fans her ear, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps down her neck.

He continues to press kisses against her neck and shoulders, his hands gently running down her arms before encircling her waist again. He holds her close, his body pressed against her, the warm heat between them growing with every kiss and touch.

Y/n shivered at the sensation, her nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Without turning around, she reached back, unbuttoning her pants and allowing them to fall to her ankles. Her black lace panties were the only thing standing between her and his eager mouth.

"You always wear lace, Y/n"" he whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "It suits you."

Oscar bent her over the kitchen counter, exposing her wet, aching cunt to his hungry gaze. He wasted no time, diving between her thighs, his tongue delving into her folds. Y/n let out a moan, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as she arched her back, offering herself fully to him.

Each flick of his skilled tongue sent shivers down her spine, her body writhing with pleasure. As the sauce continued to simmer, so did her lust, the heat of the stove mirroring the fire that raged within her. Oscar's tongue played with her clit, teasing it mercilessly, causing her to whimper and squirm.

"Oh god, Oz," Y/n panted, her voice ragged with need. "I'm so close..."

He continued to torment her, his tongue flicking faster, more insistent. Y/n could feel the orgasm building, coiling tight within her like a spring. Then, with a final, intense flick, she exploded, her entire body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Oscar continued to pleasure her, sucking and licking until the last wave of her climax had passed. He pulled away, smirking up at her as she regained her composure.

After his unexpected and passionate act, Oscar pulls up her pants, his hands lingering a bit longer on her hips than necessary. He steps back, his expression a mix of satisfaction and feigned innocence, as if he hadn't just sent waves of pleasure through her moments ago.

Y/n continues stirring the sauce in the pot, her cheeks still flushed and her breaths slightly shortened. Despite her best efforts to appear calmer, her legs betray her, trembling ever so slightly. The aftermath of Oscar's actions still lingers on her, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Oscar can't help but laugh at the sight of Y/n still visibly affected by his previous actions. He walks over to the nearby sink, a hint of a smirk on his face, and proceeds to wash his mouth, thoroughly rinsing away the evidence of their moments of passion.

Once he's finished rinsing his mouth, Oscar proceeds to wash his hands, turning on the faucet and running them under the water. He lathers up the soap, making sure to thoroughly clean between his fingers and under his nails. All the while, he casts occasional glances at Y/n, taking in her flushed and disheveled form with satisfaction.

Oscar walks over to Y/n, planting a quick kiss on her cheek before saying, "Sit down, I'll finish up here." There's a hint of playfulness in his tone, mixed with a bit of concern for her still trembling legs.

He gently pushes her towards a nearby chair, a smirk on his face, silently amused by the lingering effect he has on her. He then returns his attention to the sauce, stirring it and adjusting the heat to let it simmer.

As he continues working on the sauce, he glances at Y/n, watching as she takes a seat in the chair. He can see the way she's still trying to calm her breaths, her cheeks still rosy, and a satisfied grin forms on his lips. Oscar knows that he's stirred her up pretty good in more ways than one.

Y/n's laughter interrupts Oscar's reverie, her words and the look on her face instantly catching his attention. Oscar looks down and realizes he's sporting a visible and undeniable tent in his pants. He blushes immediately, a mix of embarrassment and surprise washing over him.

She winks at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she continues scrolling through the pictures on her phone. The photos of them together earlier in the day, smiling and laughing, and probably some of the earlier moments in the kitchen.

Oscar chuckles, looking down at his pants with a mild blush on his cheeks. He can't deny the fact that the memories of their time together have indeed gotten him a bit excited. He looks back at Y/n, a bit embarrassed but trying to play it cool, and replies,

"Yeah, maybe I should. Or you could just stop going on your phone and suck me off right now."

Y/n grins, her eyes still on the photos on her phone, her mind already contemplating the future 'later'.

"Oh, I'll be giving you more than just a blowjob later, don't you worry about that," she says, a hint of mischief in her tone.

Oscar laughs along with Y/n, the banter between them light and playful. As the pasta finishes cooking, he turns off the heat and grabs a nearby plate, preparing to serve the food.

He looks at her, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes, and says, "Can you pass me the plate, please? The pasta's ready." He holds out his hand expectantly.

He waits for Y/n to hand him the plate so he can start dishing up the pasta. The kitchen is filled with the scent of the tomato sauce and the sound of their laughter, the earlier moments of passion mixed with the easy banter between them.

He takes the plate from Y/n's hands, his touch gentle and careful. He starts scooping out the pasta from the pot, ladling a generous serving onto the plate. The sauce coats the pasta, the noodles shining with a layer of rich, tomatoey goodness.

The evening progresses, and with the pasta cooked and served, Oscar and Y/n spend the rest of the evening playing card games together. They sit at the kitchen table, the deck of cards shuffled and ready for the game to begin.

They take turns dealing and playing the games, competitive spirits igniting as they try to outdo each other in each round. Laughter and banter fill the air as they play, their words light and playful as they tease and taunt each other.

Hours passed, the games continued and the fun never seemed to end. The atmosphere is relaxed and comfortable, the earlier moments of passion set aside in favor of the simple joy of spending time together. They're both enjoying themselves, the light-hearted competition bringing out a fun and carefree side to them both.

As the night progresses and the card games finally come to an end, Oscar and Y/n decide it's time to call it a night. They stretch and yawn, the hours of playtime leaving them feeling a bit tired but satisfied.

They make their way to the bedroom, their steps unhurried and relaxed. Once they reach the bed, they both settle down on the covers, their bodies seeking the comfort of each other's presence.

They lay side by side, their limbs slightly touching under the covers. The room is quiet, the only sounds being their soft breaths and the occasional rustle of fabric as they adjust their positions.

They're close enough to feel each other's warmth, a source of comfort and security in the quiet darkness of the room. They both shift a bit, getting more settled into the bed, their bodies gravitating towards each other as they prepare to sleep.

Oscar gazes back at her, his expression confused and a bit worried, unsure of what promise she's referring to. He responds jokingly, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"You're not gonna murder me because I cheated at a card game, are you? You did jokingly say you'd murder me, but I assumed you were just bluffing."

Y/n laughs at Oscar's initial confusion, finding his worry amusing. She shakes her head, clarifying herself as she explains what she's referring to.

"No, no, not about the cheating. I'm talking about the promise I made to you in the kitchen earlier. Remember?"

She smirks, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she recalls the moment in the kitchen, their earlier playful banter, and the promise she made in the heat of the moment.

She looks at Oscar, her gaze steady and seductive, expecting him to remember what she promised. Her expression seems to say "Don't tell me you forgot already."

The silence hangs in the air for a moment as Oscar's mind goes back to the kitchen, trying to recall the specific promise she made. His brows furrow slightly as he wracks his brain, the memories of their playful banter in the kitchen slowly returning to him. Her words from earlier replayed in his head.

Finally, it seems to click, Oscar's eyes widening slightly as he remembers the promise she made. A grin forms on his lips, and he gives her a knowing look, his gaze meeting hers in the dim light of the room.

"Oh, that promise," he responds, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and desire. "I think I remember… But do remind me again, just to be safe," he says with a wink.

Y/n rolls her eyes in mock exasperation at Oscar's challenge, a subtle smirk on her lips. She glances back at him with a determined expression, a hint of playfulness and confidence in her gaze.

"I'll show you," she responds, her words firm and suggestive. "Don't worry, I keep my promises."

Y/n lay on the bed, her head between Oscar's thighs, while he propped himself up on his elbows. He looked down at her with a mixture of desire and admiration.

"Y/n, you look so pretty like that," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. He ran his fingers through her hair, gently tugging on her locks. "Your mouth feels incredible, baby."

Y/n's lips wrapped around the head of his cock, her tongue tracing the vein that ran along its length. Oscar's hips bucked involuntarily, his fingers tightening in her hair. "Fuck, yes. That's it. Suck me off, baby."

She took him deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his shaft. Oscar groaned louder, his breathing becoming more labored. "You're so good at this, baby. You're making me feel so good, so fucking good"

Her eyes met Oscar's for a moment, a devilish grin playing on her lips. She pulled off his cock, the wet sound echoing in the room. "Is that so, Oscar?" she asked teasingly, before taking him back into her mouth with a moan.

Oscar's head fell back, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the pleasure. "Oh, God, yes. Your mouth is heaven," he panted, his grip on her hair tightening. "Suck me harder, baby. Show me how much you love my cock in your mouth."

Y/n obeyed, taking him deeper and bobbing her head faster. Oscar's thrusts became more aggressive, his hips meeting her eager mouth with a fervor that matched her own. "You're such a good girl," he praised, his voice thick with lust. "I bet you'd do anything to make me cum, wouldn't you?"

Y/n let out a muffled moan, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him off eagerly. Oscar's fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back and forth as he controlled the pace. "That's it, Y/n. Show me how much you crave my cock."

Her eyes watered, her cheeks flushed with arousal. She could feel Oscar's control slipping, and she knew she was close to making him explode. With one final, powerful thrust, she felt his cock pulse in her mouth.

"Fuck, baby," Oscar cried out, his release flooding her mouth. She swallowed his seed, her eyes meeting his as she pulled off his cock. A satisfied smirk graced her lips as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Oscar collapsed back onto the bed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "Fuck, Y/n. That was incredible."

Y/n leaned forward, pressing her lips to Oscar's in a searing kiss. Their tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths. As the passion between them grew, Y/n shifted her position, straddling his thigh.

The pressure of her wetness against his leg sent shivers down Oscar's spine. He reached down, sliding his hand between her legs, feeling her slick folds. "You're so wet, baby," he groaned, his fingers teasing her clit.

Y/n moaned into his mouth, grinding her hips against his hand. Her kisses grew more desperate, her need for him becoming more insistent. She broke the kiss, her breaths coming in short pants. "Please, Oscar. I want you inside me."

He rolled them both over, positioning himself between her thighs. Y/n arched her back, offering herself to him. "I want to feel you, every inch," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Oscar's eyes locked onto hers as he pushed into her, filling her completely. Y/n gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began

to thrust into her. Their hips met in a frantic dance, their moans filling the room. Oscar's grip on Y/n tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he lost himself in the rhythm of their lovemaking.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his pace increasing. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I need you, Oscar. Don't stop."

He didn't, driving into her with a fierce intensity that left them both breathless. Their bodies slapped together, the sound of their passion echoing in the room. Y/n's eyes rolled back, her orgasm building within her.

"Oscar, I'm close," she panted, her voice thick with need.

"Me too, baby," he growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Let go for me. Let go and feel me inside you."

Y/n's body convulsed, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. The sensation was enough to tip Oscar over the edge, his own release filling her as he cried out her name.

Oscar's cum spilled out of Y/n, his breaths coming in gasps as he pulled out of her. He didn't waste any time, pushing her onto all fours, her ass in the air, inviting him to take her from behind.

Y/n let out a moan, her body aching for more. She felt him position himself at her entrance, and then he thrust back into her, filling her completely. The change in position gave him a deeper, more powerful entry, and Y/n couldn't help but cry out at the sensation.

Oscar's hands found her breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he began to thrust into her. "You like this, don't you, baby?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Being taken from behind like a dirty little slut."

Y/n's hips bucked, meeting his thrusts with a hunger that mirrored his own. "Yes, Oscar. I love it. Please, don't stop."

He gripped her hips, his thrusts becoming more forceful. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, the air thick with the scent of their arousal. Y/n's nails dug into the sheets, her body writhing beneath him. The relentless pounding set her nerves on fire, her orgasm building once again.

"Oh god, Oscar," she moaned, her voice thick with need. "I'm so close."

He increased his pace, his own desire reaching a boiling point. "Come for me, baby. Feel me filling you up."

Y/n's body tensed, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. Her cries filled the room as she came undone, her inner muscles clenching around his cock. The sensation was enough to push Oscar over the edge, his own release filling her as he cried out her name.

Oscar pulled out of Y/n, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he admired the sight of her glistening body. He moved to straddle her chest, spreading her legs wide.

"Lay back, baby," he commanded, his voice laced with desire. "I want to see you when I fuck you."

Y/n complied, her heart racing with anticipation. Oscar positioned himself at her entrance, and then he thrust into her, filling her completely. She cried out at the sensation, her ankles hooked over his shoulders, giving him the deepest access possible.

Oscar's hands found her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples as he began to thrust into her. "Look at me, Y/n. Watch me fuck you," he commanded, his eyes locked onto hers.

Y/n met his gaze, her body arching to meet his thrusts. The intimacy of this position, the raw vulnerability of having her ankles over her shoulders, made her feel exposed and desired in a way that left her breathless.

"Oscar, I need you," she panted, her voice thick with lust. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

He grinned, his thrusts becoming more aggressive. The room was filled with the sound of their flesh slapping together, their moans mingling in the air. Y/n's body writhed beneath him, her nails digging into the sheets as her orgasm built once again.

"Oh god, Oscar," she cried out, her body tensing. "I'm going to come."

He responded by increasing his pace, his own desire reaching a fever pitch. "Cum for me, baby."

Her orgasm crashed over her, her cries filling the room as she came undone. The sensation was enough to push Oscar over the edge, his own release filling her as he cried out her name.

As their orgasms subsided, Oscar collapsed onto Y/n, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, his lips finding hers in a tender kiss.

"God, Y/n," he whispered, his voice soft with satisfaction. "You're incredible."

She smiled up at him, her body still humming with the aftershocks of their passion. "So are you, Oscar."

He pulled out of her, his spent cock leaving a trail of evidence between them. They lay entwined, their hearts beating in unison, the sweat on their bodies glistening in the dim light.

Y/n lies back in bed, her body slightly trembling with residual pleasure and tiredness. She lets out a satisfied sigh before turning towards Oscar, a small smile on her lips.

"We'll need to stop by the pharmacy tomorrow," she says, her voice a bit weary but resolute. "We're gonna need some Plan B."

Oscar nods, understanding the necessity and importance of stopping by the pharmacy. He stands up from the bed and walks over to the bathroom. After a moment, he returns with a towel in hand.

He approaches Y/n, his movements gentle and careful as he begins to clean her up with the towel, his touches gentle and soothing as he takes care of her.

He moves the towel across her skin, wiping away the remnants of their intimate encounter, his touch firm yet tender as he ensures she's clean and comfortable. He takes his time, making sure to not miss any spot.

Once he's satisfied that she's clean, he gently pats her dry with the towel, the soft cloth absorbing the excess moisture from her body. There's a hint of care and nurturing in his actions as he takes care of her, a small gesture of affection.

yn.jpg ♫ Taylor Swift • Guilty as Sin?

liked by oscarpiastrii, may.piastri, sienna_cresenzo and 1,433 others yn.jpg the reason i can't think straight has a name tagged oscarpiastrii

oscarpiastrii 😄😄😄

sienna_cresenzo so im guessing the swimsuit thing worked??? ↳ oscarpiastrii What swimsuit thing? ↳ yn.jpg nothing oz, go back to bed

may.piastri "renovations" they said

𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 | 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍

taglist:

@ellen3101 @lil13 @idgasb @formulaal @mickslover @yolobiishhh @piastri-my-boy @landorris @czennieszn @bunnyleclerc @mythicalmaven @lovestay4evr @p1astrisgirl

[kiragecko]

The Husband is reading Feet of Clay to nq (our eldest) and me. I last read it over a decade ago. What's hitting me this time is how Pratchett likes hammering his point home through multiple channels.

-

This is a book about respectability politics, discrimination, and privilege. The golems are the A-plot, loosely standing in for trafficked people/undocumented immigrants. (They also share some similarities to disabled experiences.)

But the book has SO MANY subplots, all sending the same message!

-

Cheri is constantly kicking down - trying to figure out how to survive as a dwarf in a human-centric city, while badmouthing the undead. It has echoes both of assimilated immigrants turning on newer, less acceptable ones AND 'normal' gays trying to distance themselves from the 'weird' queers.

The key to Vetinari's poisoning is recognizing the classist forces acting on the palace servants/the residents of Cockbill Street. How their desire to stay respectable holds them down, keeps them hungry and meek. How a healthy powerful man can survive, but a poor baby and old woman are vulnerable. And we see how they kick down as well - tormenting William Scuggins, who seems to have been either mentally disabled or mentally ill, for entertainment.

And the royal plot is contrasted with Vimes' mutterings about how the common people suffered under royalty but are still attracted to it. How they seem to WANT someone above them. Sure, some people might suffer, but nobody thinks it will be THEM, so it's fine.

-

Reading it again makes it almost unbelievable that people were trying to suggest Pratchett would be anti-trans. Right after Cheri comes out, Angua takes her to an undead bar, where it's repeatedly mentioned that people who "can't pass" can "be themself." When she chooses her new name, Angua thinks about how most people wouldn't have associated that name with someone with a full beard, but now they're going to have to. It's not subtle.

(There's also a woman with dementia there, in one of the books examples of how NOT to kick down. Pratchett doesn't DIRECTLY focus on disability this book, but there are a lot of little moments. (All the golems use AAC!))

-

I don't know. I'm just struck by how intersectionalist Pratchett's politics were. How this story can have 4 very different plots going on at the same time, but all of them have the same message.

He was a really great writer.

[oblique-lane]

"Just a bunch more biblical paintings then I'll go back to drawing yaoi" Or you can do both, renaissance style, Michelangelo or Raphael I honestly forgot who drew those naked men on the Sistine Chapel's ceilings ok bad joke aside: I'd love hearing more about your headcannons, specifically about the childhoods of the characters (ranging from the mercs, to Miss pauling, the Administrator, hell anyone you have ideas about!)

Childhood headcanons... How did you know I've had something about that on my mind? Alright, let's talk about...

Little Sniper

(Lots of trigger warnings ahead, check tags!)

Mundy was obviously an unhappy child. When I imagine the surroundings he grew up in, I see miles and miles of empty landscapes, dry yellow grass, unkept barns destroyed by rust and a deep choking sense of loneliness.

The closest neighbour woul be so far away you better bring a bicycle with you if you want to visit. School and Church were the only places to go, which were also very far away. No kids his age nearby. And even if there were peers at school, no one wanted him anyway.

Mundy was "weird", he didn't quite understand other kids' jokes, didn't get what was so fun about what everyone else enjoying to do; he was weaker, always loosing in close fights; he didn't even look very local for whatever reason. Even if he tried to get along with someone, it either ended up with him being ostracized or with him experiencing the greatest boredom imaginable. And the kids quickly picked up on his "difference", making him an object of bullying.

It started with making fun of everything Mundy does, his habits and speech patterns, his morals and ideas... Which wasn't anything too big for him but it was still very annoying and upsetting, he grew to hate school very quickly.

Coming home being exhausted from this kind of socializing, no one would really comfort him. Being very little, he used to tell on his bullies to his parents, telling how hurt he was by their words... And it would only made a mess in his family.

Overreactive mother: "Poor baby, I'm so sorry, I'll tell their parents to stop being mean, my little little baby, maybe we can go homeschooling..."

And a strict father: "Are you a man or what? Yeah, he will end up a bloody baby if you keep spoiling him like that! Suck it up! Of you can't stand for yourself, no one will. At this pace you'll end up a nobody, with no home nor respect from the world".

Mundy didn't want to be neither a baby nor a disappointment. He figured that sharing his feelings with parents wouldn't be that good of an idea, they won't understand anyway. And also that he must fight somehow.

If he can't win in close fights, he thought, he could hit them from a distance: throwing small rocks at the bullies from up the tree...

–He was punished for that. For some reason, every time Mundy fought back, he was scolded by the elders, who for some reason always believed the bullies that HE was the one starting the fights. They forbid him to fight back. He closed his feelings shut and stopped paying attention to almost everything around him.

Why was it like that? Why was he so different from other kids, why couldn't he understand them? Why couldn't he understand anyone in this world? The world was a mess of unspoken rules and suffering, overcoming oneself, pain; he couldn't fit in. He was always on the wrong even if he didn't do anything. He felt like an outsider everywhere he went.

Sometimes he wondered if he was born into a wrong family or that he wasn't a human at all. Looking at the night sky, he was thinking about aliens, maybe they would come to him someday and take him to the planet he truly belongs, being accidentally swapped at birth. Maybe then he will be happy, he will leave this sickening place and finally start living. He thought about dying, too.

He started to spend a lot of time in the forest any chance he got. He was alone here, unwatched, somewhat free. It was easier to breathe here. He was alone but it didn't feel worse than being with those people. He played by himself. He started to believe that he actually liked loneliness.

As Mundy and his peers grew older, the kids started to become more and more savage, thanks to the hormones and age crisis. Bullying intensified as those kids started to feel the need to assert themselves. Mundy was maliciously beaten (he fought back as much as he could and even win sometimes, but the beating only got worse each time). They used any chance to humiliate him.

And each time after that Mundy would take the knife or his father's shotgun and go to the forest to take his anger on animals, "hunting", since he couldn't do anything to fix the root of the problem.

He would hunt for something small, like birds or feral rabbits so he could butcher them and cook on fire to eat. At moments like this he felt like a beast, and somehow it was the most pleasant state for him to be in.

There were no words available to form his pain into, so the pain came through violence. The more violent his abusers became, the more violent he was at his "hunting". The more he felt his father's gaze piercing him with disappointment, the sharper his knife movements would get. Sometimes he would let the bodies to just rot like that, completely butchered in a very non-culinary way.

(Maybe someday he would lure one of those bastards to the forest and kill him the same way and blame it on an animal attack)

And at some point... His classmates would came up with something that would cross all the lines of forgivable. Somewhere there was the peak of what they could do. Something beyond.

There wasn't a known way to him to deal with that. No known words. Everyone would be so grossed out of him if they knew. He was beyond disgusted with himself, too. What was the point of living now?

That day he would shot a wild boar, take his machete out and cut it open, butcher it the way his father would when they wanted a pork dinner for the night... And reached to its heart.

The heart is where the love is stored, right? That's what people say when referring to this "love" he'd never seem to know. A dark read bloody organ that feels like sponge inside of thin rubber. There's something about this that Mundy lacks. He has a heart too, it's pulsating inside him, but for some reason it was unable to produce the "love", a very necessary fluid for a human body. He wondered if it's sweet. He wondered if he was even able to taste it.

He took a bite... And realized what he was doing.

He was, indeed, a monster.

When he went back home, later than usual, he would be met with his father's gaze. He was always throwing gazes, for every occasion, Mundy was used to feel small and guilty under them. But this time... It felt somehow much more personal. More disturbing.

His father looked at him as if he was a dirty little creature, a rat, a maggot. He looked at him the way one would look at a criminal who wronged their whole family. He looked at him like he knew.

His father didn't say anything that day and it wasn't brought up ever again.

Mundy was indeed a monster who was utterly terrified of this though. He didn't want to be one. He made a promise to himself that everything he does will be morally justified, he promised himself to become a good... decent person. He would earn his place in the world, even if his father, everyone else denies it.

It gets blurry at this point. Sniper doesn't really remember his life before about 17, when he was finishing school and starting to work on his sniper licence. For some reason he always knew he would be good at shooting and killing. When remembering his home, Sniper would recall the smell of grass, mother's cooking, the warm sun, and a steady life he had. He knew it was boring, but it still somehow felt like home. Home he felt was lost somewhere he didn't remember.

Either way, he was always a loner.

[darealsaltysam]

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged theory

Okay so this theory is complete bullshit and doesn't have any merit but I just wanted to get it out of my system.

I wonder why Shizu didn't eat the kids the moment she killed them. Like we know that when you're turned into a demon you're overcome by a hunger so great that you won't be able to think straight.

Like okay, maybe she wanted to finish off Genya before she started feasting but she could have just eaten them, it's not like Genya posed any actual danger and her movements were too calculated like oneshotting all 4 kids including Koto and breaking the lights right before attacking Genya.

So here's my theory, I think Shizu deliberately killed her kids. Why? Because she was tired of them. Y'know how becoming a demon brings out the twisted version of your soul like Akaza's fighting, Dakis obsession with beauty and Gyutaros hatred of humanity, and Hantengu's entire existence? What if Shizu deep down was tired of being a mom? And she low-key resented her kids? What if she was tired of seeing them suffer?

Genya said she was very small but what if in reality she was just very young? Like in her late teens? It's not so out there after all Tamayo is 19 biologically and she had a husband and kids. Shizu could have been 14 or 15 when she had Sanemi.

So this is a young girl, married this older man, probably out of necessity or against her will, and given Kyogo's violence there's a chance that some of the kids were a product of rape.

She's living in poverty, married to an absolute dick of a husband who beats her all while trying to make ends meet and take care of SEVEN kids!

Even for the Taisho era, seven kids is a lot and other people seem to think so too, in the light novel Genya remembers how their landlord's son used to taunt them as 'the poor people with a lot of kids'.

The thing that really cemented this theory for me is the afterlife scene with Sanemi. Her shame. Not sadness or despair but shame. Shame so strong she doesn't even want to alert her kids to her existence and she covers her face and hides when she sees Sanemi. What if that shame stems from guilty? Guilt over her resentment towards her kids?

I'm not saying that Shizu hated her kids, but what if she was just...tired? Tired of being used as a punching bag? Tired of seeing her babies get hurt and go hungry every night? Tired of being treated like dirt and having people make fun of her family? Tired of being judged for circumstances that were out of her control? Tired of struggling? Tired of her life? Tired of everything?

Regarding Sanemi and Genya, I feel like they both have an idealized image of their mother and that's probably why Sanemi refused to accept the knowledge that Nezuko could resist attacking humans by thinking about her family, because then he would have to face the truth that maybe their mother never really loved them? Or that her love wasn't as strong as he thought?

It's a really hard pill to swallow for a lot of us because we don't want to think about the fact that our moms, even if they love us or at least tolerate us, may not have wanted us or may have thought their lives would've been better if they hadn't had us.

This isn't uncommon in real life either. The subreddit r/regretfulparents has over 120k members, then there's this insightful thread where parents who regret having kids share their feelings, there's also experiences from women here and here.

Something to think about. I'm sorry but I feel like the Shinazugawa kids, all they truly had was each other and they didn't know it. They never really stood a chance.

Yea so...

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS TAKING CARE OF YOU

ON YOUR PERIODS

including mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

・WARNING : mention of period/cramp, fluff

・NOTE : i didn't wrote it in fem reader so this is for anyone who is menstruating

!! english is not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

he would be the most caring and understanding boyfriend. he knows how painful your period cramps are and he hates seeing you suffer like this. so he does his best to help you, either by buying you your favorite snacks or putting a hot water bottle on your stomach. hums in your ear sweet words like "everything is okay" to boost up your mood. lots of kisses on your forehead to keep your energy. also he'll plan in advance your others periods to make sure he'll be ready to take care of you when they'll come back.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

poor boy would be completely lost at first. he doesn't really know what to do, he starts panicking because he doesn't know how to ease your pain. so he would call his sisters to get help and advices. he'll do everything they told him to do : buying you extra snacks, making hot tea and any warm drinks, start a stock of painkillers. he joins you in bed, tucking you close to his body and cuddle you with tons of kisses here and there. he would also gently massages your tummy because he thinks it ease the pain. literally became the sweetest boyfriend.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

he doesn't think twice before running over the store to buy you your survival kit. i know for sure he would blush really hard when the cashier scans the pads right in front of him. but then run back again to your apartment to check on you. he won't leave your side, he's stuck with you until your periods end. he'll always ask you if you're fine, if you need anything, if you want something. when your only answer was "you" he'll get so shy but happily cuddles you, pressing some kisses on your poor tummy. he just hopes pain would disappear because he doesn't want to see you suffer.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

like when you're sick, he knows how to deal with your periods. princess treatment on top. he would cook your favorite food and put your favorite movie on the tv. he keeps an eye on you from the kitchen and if he hears you growl from pain he's already next to you in a second. also prepares you a hot bath to relax your stomach from cramps. he'll put all his being and all his efforts to make sure your periods are a little less painful. he won't rest for a whole week, and of course he doesn't forget to fill you with so much love, like with soft kisses on your cheeks.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 44

literally the softest boy ever. he hates when you're on your periods because it looks like you're going to die. he perfectly knows what to give you. all you need to do is to rest on the bed and the rest he takes care of. he's just so caring, so sweet and gentle with you. he would constantly rub your stomach, sometimes pressing a hot water bottle on it. he'll also play with your hair, just do anything to distract you from the pain. he makes sure your full attention is on him and not on your cramps. and if so, he'll curse the cramps because they make his poor baby suffer.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

he would 50% knows how to handle it and 50% messes up. like of course he's aware of your cramps and how much it is painful. but he's thinking about one million ways to help you to go through it that he ends up getting headaches. he would do literally anything he thinks is good for you. some things work and some just worsen the pain. and he'll panic about it, stress fills his body. but you reassure him, and after you told him what he needed to do, everything was finally okay. he becomes so much caring, and he's so gentle with his touches. he'll learn about it and you can count on him to make you feel better, thanks to his cuddles.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

periods ? he always forget them, but don't worry he's always ready to help you and to take care of you. he gives you extra comfort and extra treats. tea, snacks, hot things to soothe the pain. if you crave something he'll literally search it everywhere for you. his lover needs the best treatment during periods. but i feel like he would be curious about it, and while you're laying on the bed he'll ask you about periods and how painful it is. just to understand better in order to be the perfect caring boyfriend for your next periods.

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

what is even periods ? first time you told him you were on your periods he didn't get it. but then he saw your painful face and he knew something was wrong. when it's your first day he always stresses, he doesn't know how to act anymore. like completely lost. but he quickly put himself together and manage to take care of you. he's for sure joking about it sometimes, like teasing you gently just to put a smile on your face. but he knows how painful it is and so he always ends up in your arms, his head on your tummy as he sleeps and strokes your waist. he hopes this ease your cramps.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

he transforms into a strict boyfriend. because he wants you to rest for your whole periods time. he asks you every minutes if you're good and if you need anything. you just keep saying that you're all okay but still he's not completely relaxed. if you sigh softly he's already overthinking about it, thinking something is wrong. so to calm him, he would pull you into his arms, your head on his chest. kisses the top of your head and rubbing your stomach with one hand. he'll end up sleeping with you too, and dream about how long your periods will be, because he can't hold seeing you suffer from it.

[poetryvampire]

Well, I feel like utter trash tonight so

Rating BG3 men on how well they'd take care of you on your period

This is dumb and not well thought out and probably a bit bias let's gooo

Gale 🔮 Sweetheart cannot read the room bless him. Is so ready to help easy the pain, he's cracking open dusty books, going through all his herbs, spends all day trying to craft the best potion for your needs. Very sweet but honestly Tara sitting on your lap is doing a fine job. Once you get him to cuddle you're golden 6/10

Wyll ⚔️ Cmon. Are you kidding me? He's got you babe. Need something picked up? Done. Craving something? Made. Just want to lay around in bed all day? Hell yeah he's right there with you, you couldn't get out of his arms if you wanted to.Also a fan of romance novels? Wyll would 100% read to you. Like voices and everything, really amps up the mellow drama. He's happy to keep you laughing or get sultry with it. Makes a great opening act to spicy times. 10/10

Halsin 🐻 Woof. Very happy to help chase away those cramps by some good old fashioned pounding you into the earth. You're not gonna be able to feel anything after he gets his paws on you. Not put off by blood that's nature ba-by. Also pls consider bear sized teddy cuddles. 7/10

Astarion 🍷 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 9/10

Rolan ✨️ As usual baby boy is too awkward to live. Not like super knowledgeable about them but wants to help you the best he can. Won't ask you directly though. Is a very quick study and takes note of what you need and like. If you need space or want to be glued to him hes already in place.If you're the kind of person that's laid up with cramps for a day or two he just happens to have those days off to be with you. You'll go for a hot water bottle and the kettle is already on. Honestly after awhile he knows your cycle better than you do. 8/10

Zevlor 🔥 If there's one thing this man knows it's being sore. It just comes with being a swordsman and an older gentleman. He is a god of working out sore muscles. Feeling achy? He goes all the way. Expect a long bath with a full body massage. He's gonna work out every inch of you and praise you like his personal god. Very patient really gonna go for the slow burn from sensual to sexual. Doesn't even expect anything back just wants to make you feel good. Will turn a downer day into a wildly romantic night. 11/10

Haarlep 😈 Couldnt give less of a shit. It's not that he's put off by it, he's had lots of experience with them but it doesn't do anything for him either. As for your suffering? He's a little empathetic, poor mortal with your poor weak body. That being said he does like you and to cuddle once in awhile so if you need some comfort he'll be there. 3/10

Raphael 👿 Jfc listen, he's waaaaay into it but will Not admit. In fact goes out of his way to let you know how off putting it is. He'll tell you how its nice to know you could still bare his young, like if he let's you. Loves the thought of breeding you and just the simple humanity of it that gets him. He cannot keep his hands off you but again will not admit why and will get mad about it. Like, how dare you look so good now of all times it's so rude. Guess I have to fuck you even though your pathetic little body keeps getting blood on my sheets smh -3/10