#but it makes sense in my head and it scares me

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. PLEASE READ AND LOOK UP DEFINITIONS OF WARNINGS FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION. HUGE TW FOR THIS CHAPTER. CSA (only mentioned, not described), heavy angst, mentions of family death and family issues, fluff, panic attacks, showering together, and more prolly tbh

A/N: Conan gray is my bitch. Loosely inspired by this song because mf I don't got a Marylou and Jimmy irl </3

With love and big tits, Rose

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P27: Feel Alive

“Baby?” 

Usually, the sweet pet name would make my stomach swirl with butterflies, but right now it doesn’t really feel like anything.

It’s been like this for days, and those days have felt like weeks, if not months. Numb. My brain, my heart, and every one of my senses has turned unresponsive—like some sort of plastic wrap suffocating me in my own skin that crawls with disgust everytime a slight memory of Baylen’s words about my dad echo in my head.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chris asks, walking around the corner of the couch before plopping down on the cushion next to me, his hand on my knee as his brows furrow. 

I can’t help but shift under his touch. The warmth of his hand doesn’t feel bad, it just feels off—like there’s some sort of rushing anxiety that all the memories of my dad touching me as a kid are gonna spontaneously come back to me at any given contact.

That’s how it works apparently. When Baylen had said everything, I felt something shift inside of me. It was like he unlocked a certain part of my brain that could remember feeling so confused as a child. 

Blurry memories and haunting scenes of the past made my bedroom unlivable. Baylen understood when I left and packed a bag. I’m not sure what the plan is for when my mom comes back home, but that would be a problem for later. 

“I’m just…” I shake my head, letting out a sigh as I let my eyes flutter shut. As my eyelashes brush against each other, it’s like I can see it—see more. 

And I hate it. 

I hate how uncomfortably clammy my skin starts to feel—I despise how big everything seems when I open my eyes to connect back to reality. 

And I see him—Chris. 

Staring at me with wide eyes full of concern, he tries to lean forward, his hand nearly touching my cheek. I shrink away from the touch. Chris’ face drops, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

The way his eyes drop to his lap makes something inside of me burn. My heart aches in my chest, my feet shifting on the ground as I find my body empty of any air—any relief. 

“I—” 

I can’t speak. The words tangle on my tongue, the sentence blanking in my mind as I feel my face grow unbearably warm. His eyes trace back up to mine, his lips tugged into a pout as he hesitantly squeezes my knee.

“I’m here, okay?” he mentions, licking over his lips as he shakes his head with worry etched in his features, “-I…I don’t know what to do or what would help, but I’m here. You are not alone.” 

The words are comforting. However, as they settle in my mind, I can’t help but feel some sort of twist in the bottom of my gut—an uncomfortable churn of anxiety as I repeat the four syllables in my head. 

He used to say that—my dad was always the one comforting me, holding me, codling me like he truly loved and cared about me. All the monsters under my bed scared me, I’d always ask to be tucked in, begging for him to stay until I fell asleep. 

But the real monster was in my bed. The real monster actually existed—the real monster is the one person I used to always associate with love. 

“Chris, this…this hurts.”

His face furrows at my statement. He holds his arms open, welcoming me in a hug. My body itches at the thought of feeling trapped, my head shaking with refusal as Chris’ face tugs into a pained expression. 

“I—’m sorry, just—tell me what’s going on, how…” he looks around the room, his tongue darting over his bottom lip as his gaze returns to me, “-how can I help? Your cheeks are pink, are you too hot?” 

My mouth opens, but only a stuttered huff of air escapes my lips. I don’t know what I feel, all I know is every inch of my body itches with some sort of sting and my skin is too tight. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, his voice pulling my eyes to focus on his face, “-let’s…c’mere, you’re burning up.” 

Chris gets up, standing and offering a hand towards me. I slide my fingers into his palm, flinching as I notice how sweaty I am, my throat dry as I try to take more breaths, but none of them are enough—every gasp of air is shallow no matter how hard I try. 

He drags us down the hallway, pulling us in front of the bathroom door before he looks at me with a hesitant expression. “We just…gotta—gotta cool you down. Why don’t you take a cold shower? I can—I’ll be on the other side of the curtain. I don’t want you to pass out, but…I…” His mouth opens and shuts. I nod my head, grasping into the material of his shirt that covers his chest as I lean on him. 

Everything is so hazy. My eyes won’t focus at all anymore, it’s impossible to see or hear anything. The only vessel to reality I have left is him. 

My hand clutches the material tighter as he shifts. I hear the slight sound of his voice drowned out in the back of my mind, failing at understanding his words as I feel his arm wrap around me, pulling me into the bathroom as my feet land on the cold tile floor.

It’s hard to focus, it’s hard to feel alive. All I know is that I feel his hands on me, guiding me into the porcelain bathtub before a cold rush of water washes over me. My soaked clothes are heavy. I feel my body slug down with exhaustion, hands around my waist tugging my back against something warm—his chest. 

And I can finally breathe. 

“-okay, okay, it’s—it’s gonna be okay, is this helping? Fuck, I know this is what Matt does, I don’t—baby, c’mon–”

The echo of Chris’ voice is finally coherent enough for me to comprehend. I let myself melt in his hold, clutching onto his wrists as he basically supports all of my weight. 

“Thank you,” I say, my voice shaking as I feel him let out a sigh of relief, “-it…helps.” My words are muttered, barely audible between the running water and ragged breaths. 

___

It had been awhile, enough time to recover from the panic attack. My throat is sore. The rushed gasps of air for so long made my vocal cords feel raw, but I wasn’t trying to speak. I was only relaxing, finally just breathing and letting that be enough. 

“Here,” Chris offers, holding his hand out for me to hold. I slide my fingers to slot between his own, smiling as he squeezes my hand, our palms pressed flush against each other as we continue walking down the cement path.

I’m not sure where we are. It’s some sort of park, one he drove us to, but it’s really pretty. There’s a lot of surrounding meadows, a tall hill, and some crowding trees around a statue of a woman holding a child up towards the sky.  

“Where are we?” I ask, my lips rolling together. I feel his hand squeeze mine a bit tighter, looking over to find him staring at me with a soft smile that makes my cheeks flush with a feathery warmth.

Wordlessly, Chris guides me further down the first path between the trees, passing the statute. As we round a corner, I feel my heart clench in my chest.

Headstones. 

We’re at a cemetery. And by the way Chris pulls my hand tighter and keeps walking with determination, I know it’s not just any graveyard. 

“Chris…?” I voice, my tongue swelling in my mouth as I swallow thickly. Our feet stop as he halts in front of two headstones, Nicolas etched in one of the blocks, Marylou engraved on the one sitting adjacent. 

“She would’ve loved you.” 

His words brush through the air like petals, the tingle of warmth spreading up my spine as I lean onto his shoulder, staring down at the gravestones in front of us. He clutches my hand closer, his own head resting on top of mine as we both stand and gaze down at the graves in front of us. 

“How do you know?” I ponder out loud, my face scrunching as I hear him let out an airy sigh. 

“I just…I just know. I’ve told her a lot about you.”

Oh.

Oh.

His answer creates some sort of cooling sensation in my chest—a relieving temperature from the burning ache radiating from my heart.

“I…I talk to her a lot still—especially about you, I—I’m worried,” he rasps, his jaw tightening against the crown of my head before I feel him shift. I look upward to see him staring directly at me. His gaze softens, his eyes squinted with a depressing emotion that makes my face flush. 

“This…this can’t be easy. I know your dad was all you really thought you had for family, but…” his eyes flicker between my own, he squeezes my hand a bit tighter as he stares directly into me, “-but my family is yours. My dad…Matt—even Trevor…they love you. You have family that would never lie to you or hurt you. You…” he licks over his lips, his throat bobbing as his face scrunches with emotion, “-you have people to mourn. Even if you’re never met them, I know in my soul that they love you. There’s…there’s family here for you,”

I feel a tear rush down my cheek. His words and his eyes make the world around us turn into a blurry void as I concentrate on him and him only. 

“-on every side—even beyond life, you have family waiting for you. “

Something about his words—something about the way he’s saying them…it makes it feel okay. 

I don’t need to be scared about dying. I don’t need to be fearful about living.

It’s enough for me to just breathe.

___

“Close your eyes, kid,” Matt directs, his voice echoing from in front of me as I feel Jimmy’s hands on my shoulders. Chris’ fingers are tangled between my own, his touch guiding me with direct as Jimmy nudges me forward. 

The slight creak of a door rings through the air. “Okay…take a look,” Jimmy states, shifting as lets one of his hands rest on my shoulder, a gentle pat of assurance making my eyes peep open. 

Oh. 

My. 

God. 

The room door open in front of us is Marylou’s old craft room, something I knew went untouched—but not anymore. 

Art supplies and random craft materials are gone—not a single one in sight. A twin bed is placed in front of the window, the bright sunlight gleaming in the room that smells of fresh cleaning fragrances. 

“I…what?” I voice, utterly astonished as I walk further into the room. 

All hands leave my body. My feet patter against the carpeted floor, my face laced with confusion as I let my eyes float around the newly transformed bedroom. 

“It’s for you,” Chris says. 

My body freezes as I stare at the three men. Matt nods his head up and down, affirming the statement further. I let my eyes shift to Jimmy. His face is covered with a gentle smile, one of his hands resting over his heart as he lets his head tilt slightly to the side. 

“You’re welcome here—your own room, your own space…hell—I’ll make ya bacon everyday,” Jimmy laughs, “-point is, this is your home too. Whatever you need, we’re here. I don’t gotta know everything, all I know is my home is always open to you.” 

My eyes water, my vision blurry as my bottom lip wobbles. “I…thank you,” I voice, my words cracked as I sniffle. 

The heavy tears brimming my lashline make it impossible to see. I feel arms wrap around me—then another pair, and another. 

They’re all hugging me. 

They’re all welcoming me.

Family is always associated with blood—but this is more than that, it’s deeper than that. 

It’s unconditional love. That’s not something anyone can just make or find, it’s something that’s formed in a soul—something indestructible in ways that make my heart feel like it’s healing. 

It makes me feel alive. 

[snowande]

Yandere dark crown prince x male reader knight. You missed your best friend, the crown prince, he was so nice to you but when he started learning dark magic, he became colder and more demanding of you and his subjects. What would happen if the reader was caught trying to escape? How would the prince react?

Dark Crown Prince

(Male x Male Reader)

[Warning : no minors allowed!! , stockholm syndrome, imprisonment, forced BJ]

Lumi's Note : Hellooo hii hiii!! Thank you for the ask anon!! I hope you don't mind I make it as a fic hehe... I can't help it, I'm really sorry if this takes to long! I had a meltdown with my studies lmaoooo

Hope you all enjoy this! Please tell me if you see any spelling errors, please and thank you! English is not my first language :)

So pretty much you already know he was learning dark magic... Because he told you about it. You didn't think about it that much, you just thought he was just curious, but sometime later you became really scared how he change so much, you don't know who he is anymore.... where did your old bestfriend go?

You prepare an escape plan from the palace, he cage you in the palace. You cannot go anywhere,you can't even do your knight duties anymore....

You attempted to sneak out of the castle under the cover of night, you thought you had gone unnoticed. however, the prince had been expecting this. His dark magic allowed him to sense any movement within the castle walls. He appeared behind you, his eyes glaring the back of your head.

"Leaving without saying goodbye, my dear knight? How rude of you," he said, his voice low and menacing. He stepped closer, his long black cloak billowing behind him. His hand reached out, grabbing your arm with an iron grip.

"You're not going anywhere."

His other hand came up, pressing a cold, sharp object against your throat. You felt the unmistakable prick of a blade. "I've been watching you, my dear friend. I know you've been plotting to escape. But you belong to me, always have and always will." Then he knocked you out to the back of your head with the handle of the blade, making the world around you goes dark.

When you regain consciousness, your head throbs from where he must have struck you. The cold dampness seeps into your bones, and you realize you're in a small, dark cellar beneath the castle. The rag clothes barely cover your body. "Comfortable?"a chuckle echoes through the darkness as the prince's silhouette appears at the doorway, Backlit by flickering torchlight.

He leans against the frame, arms crossed. "I see you're awake. Did you really think you could abandon me so easily, after all we've been through?"He pushes off from the doorway and steps closer.

His boots echoing on the stone floor. He crouches down to your level, his eyes locked onto yours. "You know, I could have killed you for trying to escape. But I didn't. Why do you think that is?"

"w-why?" you ask him as he tilts his head slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because I still care for you, you fool. Even after all the darkness that has consumed me, I can't bring myself to end your life. But that doesn't mean I won't punish you."

He stands up and turns to leave, but pauses at the door. "You'll stay here until I decide you've learned your lesson. No food, no water, no light. Just you and the darkness. We'll see how long you can stay sane without me, without my presence to keep you company."

"Wait please!" You plead to him, He freezes as your hand reaches out, his eyes flicking down to your touch. For a moment, his expression softens, almost vulnerable. But then his features harden again, and he captures your wrist in a firm grip. "Don't."

He steps back, breaking your contact. "You don't get to touch me like that. Not after trying to leave. You need to understand what it feels like to be without me, to be alone in the dark."

He turns away sharply and slams the heavy wooden door shut. The sound of a large lock clicking into place echoes through the cellar, sealing you in complete darkness. You hear his footsteps retreating, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the cold.

Hours pass, or maybe it's days—you can't tell in the endless darkness. The silence is deafening, broken only by the distant drip of water and the occasional scuttling of unseen creatures. You begin to question your own sanity, wondering if you'll ever see light again.

As the days blur into a never ending nightmare, your body begins to weaken. The hunger pains become unbearable, and your throat feels like it's on fire from thirst. You start to hallucinate, seeing shadows that aren't there, hearing whispers that echo through the darkness.

You curl up on the cold stone floor, shivering and delirious. Your mind is a jumbled mess, filled with doubts and regrets. Why did you try to leave? You had everything you could ever want here. Food, shelter, safety... and him.

Your thoughts become increasingly fragmented, consumed by paranoid. "Why was I so stupid? I could've been in his arms... warm food... comfort... Why? Why did I try to leave?" You hug your knees to your chest, rocking slightly.

Your voice echoes through the empty cellar, "He... He'll come... He has to... He can't leave me here..." You break down sobbing, curling into a fetal position, mumbling his name over and over like a broken record. "His Highness... Crown Prince..."

As you lie there, weak and delirious, suddenly you hear footsteps echoing down the stairs. The sound is so real that for a moment, you think it's just another hallucination. But then the door creaks open, and a figure stands silhouetted against the faint light from above.

The figure descends the last step, and you can finally make out his silhouette—tall, broad shoulders, familiar dark hair. He pauses, taking in the sight of you huddled on the floor, filthy and emaciated. He says nothing, just stands there, staring.

He slowly approaches, his boots clicking on the stone floor. He crouches down in front of you, reaching out a hand to gently tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at him. His voice is cold and calculating as he speaks. "Look at the state you're in..."

His eyes darken as your fingers touch his hand. Your voice is barely a whisper, "Im sorry... Your Highness..." He freezes. Your apology throws him off. He watches you shiver again, your body clearly starved and cold. "You're sorry?

His eyes scan over your dirty face, sunken cheeks, and the ragged clothes hanging off your frame. He notices the way you're trembling, your lips cracked and dry. His expression remains stoic, but his hand tightens slightly around your chin.

" I'm really sorry your highness I'm really am! I shouldn't have escape when you gave me warmth and safety but I throw it away because if my own selfishness..." You beg him for forgiveness, His expression softens briefly, then contorts into a smirk.

He releases your chin and straightens up, towering over you once more. "You promise? You'll stay here, with me, and not try to run again?" He crosses his arms, waiting for your response.

"Yes of course yout highness , I promise..." He watches you nod eagerly, your eyes filled with desperation and sincerity. He almost smiles at how pathetic you look right now starved, cold, and begging for his forgiveness. He uncrosses his arms slowly.

He nods, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "I'm glad you realize how foolish your attempt to escape was. Who else would care for you like I do?"

Suddenlyhe grabs your hair roughly, forcing your head down towards his crotch. His voice is commanding and cold. "Show me just how sorry you are. Use your mouth." He smirks darkly, relishing in the power he holds over you.

His eyes glint with amusement as he watches you hesitantly reach out and unzip his zipper, and grab his thick, hard member. You timidly stick out your tongue and lick the head, tasting the pre-cum leaking out. "Mmm, like that,"

He hisses through his teeth as you tentatively lick the tip of his throbbing manhood. His hands tighten in your hair, pulling slightly as he encourages you to take more. "Open wider," He growls, his voice hoarse with desire.

He pushes your head forward, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth. You gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat. "That's it," he groans, his hips beginning to move in a slow, steady rhythm. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust.

He continues to fuck your mouth, using you for his pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper and harder. You can feel yourself getting lightheaded, tears streaming down your face as he chokes you with his thick meat.

Your mouth is stuffed full, your lips stretched around his length. He watches you try to breathe through your nose, saliva already spilling down your chin. He pulls back slightly, then forces his way back in, hitting your throat again.

"You're doing such a good job apologizing," he taunts, knowing you're struggling to breathe. "Look at you, taking my cock like a good boy." He speeds up, thrusting faster and deeper, his heavy balls slapping against your chin.

He pulls his slick, throbbing cock out of your abused mouth with a wet pop. Strings of saliva connect from your lips to his shaft. Panting, he grips himself tightly, stroking rapidly. "Open your mouth." he commands, his other hand clamping your jaw and forcing it wide.

His muscles tighten as he jerks himself faster, his eyes fixed on your open mouth. Your tongue sticks out slightly, waiting. He groans loudly, his release nearing. "Right there..." He tenses, his hot seed shooting out and hitting your tongue, chin, and lips.

You feel his hot, sticky cum splashing against your tongue and face. He keeps coming, his hand never slowing as he continues to jerk himself off onto your mouth. Your face is soon covered in his thick, white cream, some of it dripping down your neck. "Swallow it. " he orders harshly.

He zips up his pants, his gaze lingering on your messy, cum-covered face. "Do... Do you forgive me? Can I go back with you...."You speak softly, your voice hoarse from being used so roughly. He pauses, considering your question. Finally, he leans down, his face inches from yours. "Forgiven" he murmurs.

He watches intensely as you swallow his cum obediently, a twisted smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Lifting his still-hard cock, he wipes the remaining drops onto your lips, marking you. "Good..." he purrs darkly, tucking himself back into his pants.

You've been without food and water for almost two days now. Your body is weak and dehydrated. The rough blowjob you just gave him took the last of your energy. Your eyes roll back and shut your eyes.

When you wake up, You were in a bed and your body is washed, and wearing a soft sleepwear, you think to your self where are you? looks like it's his majesty bedroom, of course it is, you've been here many times.

You slowly turn your head, taking in the familiar surroundings. The heavy curtains are drawn, casting a dim light over the room. You notice a glass of water and a plate of food on the nightstand beside you. Your stomach growls softly, reminding you of your prolonged hunger.

Just as you're about to reach for the water, you hear the door creak open. Heavy footsteps approach the bed. You turn your head to see him, the crown prince, entering the room. He's dressed impeccably in a fine suit, his hair perfectly styled.

He sits beside you on the bed, his cold eyes scanning your face. He reaches out and grabs the glass of water, lifting it to your lips. "Drink" he orders. You comply weakly, greedily gulping down the water. "Slowly"

He takes the glass away as you start drinking too fast, coughing slightly. He waits until you catch your breath before allowing you to drink again. He watches you intently as you finish the entire glass. He then picks up the plate of food, bringing it to your lap.

He watches closely as you hesitantly take a bite of the offered food, his expression unreadable. After a few bites, he speaks, his voice a low, threatening murmur "If you ever try to leave me again, I'll make sure you never eat or drink anything ever again. Understood?"

He grips your chin firmly, tilting your face up to look into his cold, calculating eyes. "Answer me" he growls, his fingers digging painfully into your jaw. "Will you try to leave me again?" His eyes search your face for any sign of defiance.

You whimper softly under his grip, tears welling up in your eyes. You know better than to defy him. You shake your head weakly, "N-no, your highness. I won't leave you again" you whisper, your voice trembling. "I swear..."

His expression softens, and he reaches out to gently cup your cheek. "Good boy" he murmurs, his thumb caressing your skin. "You know what happens when you displease me" He leans in, pressing his lips softly against yours in a gentle, almost loving kiss.

The kiss is a stark contrast to his usual rough handling. It's soft, gentle, even tender. It's a kiss that speaks volumes about his feelings for you. When he pulls away. "I missed you,"

He pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you possessively as he buries his face in your neck. His voice is barely above a whisper, completely different from his usual commanding tone. "When I thought I lost you... I almost went mad. No more running away, okay?"

You nuzzle against his chest, your body relaxing in his arms. He's being surprisingly gentle. You answer softly, "No more running..." You pause, then add softly "your highness..."

He hums, a sound of contentment that you rarely hear from him. His hand gently strokes your back, soothing and comforting. "Good boy," he murmurs again, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. His voice is almost tender when he speaks next.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "You know you are mine, don't you? Mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you or have you." His voice is possessive yet gentle, sending shivers down your spine.

You nod against his chest, your voice soft and submissive. "Yes, your highness... I am yours. Only yours." You look up at him with adoring eyes, completely devoted to him. He smiles, a real, genuine smile that lights up his face. "That's right..."

He hugs you tightly, his heart filled with happiness and relief. He knows you're his now, completely and utterly his. There's no more running, no more fear of losing you. You're his beloved possession, his treasure, his everything "Forever mine."

This picture is from pinterest reconfortante

Tag list : @nymphea0

[motorsportbarbie13]

One New Voicemail (Charles' Version)

your relationship with charles as told through voicemails

(i can't believe how well these are doing! i'm so glad you guys like these!! this one is specifically for @lestapiastrisgirl <3 hopefully this helps my charles girlies cope with cha being knocked out of q2 as i put this together...2k words)

First Date 

“I cannot believe I hit your neighbors car tonight.” Charles’ cheeks flame with embarrassment. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s one hell of a first date story we’ll be able to tell our grandkids.”

Pause. Charles suddenly realizes he might have just made this voicemail awkward. His eyes close, cheeks heating again. Why does he lose all sense of decorum and control around you?

He presses on. 

“I took you out, swept you off your feet…” Another pause, as if he’s replaying the entire evening in his head, checking to make sure his perception of the evening matched the reality. “I hope…”

He clears his throat. Moving on. 

“And then BAM! Straight into a parked car. I am stupid.” It’s the same tone as that famous radio message and you are crying laughing.  

“The FIA going to take away my super license next time. Please don’t tell Ferrari. I’ll never live this down.” Charles shakes his head, eyes rolling at the memory of the crunching sound his Ferrari made and the laughter that spilled out of you after the incident. 

“I hope my inability to park hasn’t scared you away. I swear I’m usually smoother…” 

‘Usually’ being the key word there. 

Until he was less than a foot away from you in his car, your perfume so intoxicating that he’ll never get off of his mind.

“You just make me so nervous.” The vulnerability in his voice makes your heart squeeze. 

“I was looking at you, listening to you laugh at my stupid jokes when I should have been watching where I was going.” Had he known you’d be wearing that little black dress and sky high heels, he would’ve hired a driver for the night. 

“In my defense, you are so pretty when you laugh and parallel parking is hard.” 

God, he hoped he hadn’t screwed this up. He already can’t stop thinking about you. 

“Can I make it up to you with a second date? Please?” 

And maybe a third. And fourth. And fifth?

Click. 

First Kiss 

“Mon dieu…” Charles sighs into the phone, lovesick and drunk on you. 

“First I hit your neighbors car and then the poor woman catches us making out on the stoop.” He scrubs his hand over his face. He’s going to have to pay for you to move apartments, he’s so embarrassed. Charles will never be able to face your silver-haired neighbor ever again. 

“She stood there for a long time though…which is weird.” 

He chuckles finally, picturing the way she had stood there for several moments, glaring at you two, hands on her hips. 

“I don’t think she likes me. Which, fair I guess.” 

Charles been so lost in the fact that he’d finally worked up the courage to kiss you that he hadn’t heard the door creak open. Or the way your neighbor cleared her throat. Loudly. Six times. 

“In my defense, that was the best first kiss turned first make out session I’ve ever had.” 

Charles was ruined after that kiss. The way you had touched him, drug your fingernails across the back of his neck, up into his hair. Tugged a little bit. 

A groan rumbles in the back of his throat as he turns the key to his newly-repaired Ferrari. 

“If I promise not to try to make out with you in front of your neighbor, can we do it again?” 

Something tugs deep in his gut at the thought of seeing you again. “I have to go to Maranello tomorrow for testing but I’ll be back Wednesday.” 

That was in two days time. Two days too long. 

For the both of you. 

“Please apologize to your neighbor again. I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself next time.” 

A pause. You can picture the grin sliding across his face.

“At least until we get inside.” 

Click.  

He Questions Everything

“I can’t do this anymore.” The anguish in his voice has your stomach twisting when you listen to the message. 

It was late where you were. Or early. He didn’t know. He was in Las Vegas, you were in Monaco. Too many miles and too much heartache. 

“I’ve given that team my entire heart. My youth. My best years and this is what they do? They can’t even listen to my suggestions. Can’t help but blunder themselves into P10 when I should’ve been on the podium.” 

He’s rambling now. You’re his safe space though. The only one who won’t call him petty or ungrateful. Won’t judge or call him out. You see the pain his team causes him. The way he gives them everything and then some and still is expected to give more. 

The line goes quiet for several moments. You think maybe he hung up, but the message keeps going. 

Silence stretches but it’s full of everything he can’t bring himself to say. 

“Red Bull’s been sniffing around, with Max retiring. Merc too, with George on his way to Cadillac.” He hadn’t told you this. Hadn’t told anyone outside of his manager. Charles was almost afraid to talk about it, even with you. 

Because if he said it out loud, it meant he was considering leaving his home. 

“Ferrari has…well, they’ve given me everything but…” 

A sigh so deep and full of everything he can’t put words to. It feels disloyal to even think the things that have been turning over in his mind since he took the checkered flag hours ago.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” 

The sound of a suitcase zippering. 

“I’m coming home. Can we spend the next two weeks somewhere warm so I can just stare at you in a bikini and forget the hell that this team puts me through?” 

The thud of his suitcase echos. 

“Please?” 

Click. 

A Surprise

“Before I tell you what I just did, I would like to remind you that I love you more than life, mon ange.” 

You had frozen mid-step in the hallway of the apartment listening to that opening line. 

“It’s really a funny story, to be honest. I think you’ll laugh.” At least that’s what Charles was banking on.

“It all started when Joris and I went to see an old friend of his after the gym today. He needed to get something for the car he’s been working on and this guy had the part.” 

This story was suspiciously twisty and curvy, even for your boyfriend.

“So we get there and there are puppies EVERYWHERE.” 

At that very moment, a little yip comes across the line and Charles groans. 

“Leo!” He scolds. 

Oh, great. He’s already named him. This was not going to end well. 

“Leo!” He repeats. “Now you’ve gone and spoiled the surprise.” 

Leo yips again, louder this time. Like he’s just discovered he can make that kind of noise. 

“Surprise!” Charles says weakly. 

“He was the runt of the litter. He’s blonde. Like you!” 

The moment the words are out of his mouth, Charles knows he’s in trouble. 

“I mean…” 

Leo barks. Charles tuts. 

“I’ll be home in ten. You’re going to love him, I promise!” 

He hoped. 

Click. 

He Feels Left Out

“What on earth were you texting Maman today, amore?” Charles grumbles into the phone. 

“She was giggling like a school girl anytime she looked at her phone.” He slots the key into the front door. 

The lock clicks. 

Leo barks. 

You’re in Paris for work, missing your boys. 

“And then she refused to tell me what you were talking about.” 

It’s so cute when your boyfriend gets jealous of your relationship with his mother. It was innocent though. You had sent her a meme making fun of Charles’ most recent parking accident on the streets of Monaco. 

Charles was just so easy to tease. 

“All she would say was that she was talking to you and that you were having a very funny conversation.” 

A pause. The jingle of Leo’s leash. 

You can practically feel the pout on his face. 

“Probably at my expense, no?” 

The elevator to your flat dings and Leo barks again. It’s about time for his nightly walk but you can tell Charles is still grumpy by the way he won’t let this go.

“What were you two talking about?” He whines. 

If FOMO had a spokesperson, it was Charles LeClerc. 

“You two are so mean to me.” He pouts. 

“I love you. Call me later.”

Click. 

Grocery Store Fumble

“Amore, we have a problem.” You can tell Charles is desperately trying not to panic. 

“Why are there so many tube shaped green vegetables at this market?” 

He stands in the middle of the produce section of your tiny grocery store. You were a few blocks away, in the middle of cooking dinner. 

“Whoever thought it was a good idea to put the cucumbers next to the zucchinis has a sick sense of humor.” He grouses. 

Theres a rustle of plastic as he opens the produce bag. You had just asked for one zucchini and now Charles was spiraling. 

“The sign says ‘Cucumbers and Zucchinis! Buy 2 get 2 free!” He’s panicking. “What kind of sick joke is this?”

Dinner rests squarely on his shoulders and right now, it’s not looking so good. 

“Does it matter?” He asks like he’s expecting an answer. Like he’s not talking to your voicemail. 

“Can you use a cucumber instead?” Deep breath. “What if I get this wrong?” 

He picks up two green vegetables, one long and skinny, wrapped in plastic and another shorter, thicker, a deeper green. His eyes scan the deserted store. No one was around to help. 

He was on his own. 

“How different can they be? They’re both green. Both long and skinny. Although this one is a little…thicker.” 

The giggle that starts low in his throat has you rolling your eyes when you listen to the message a few hours later. 

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.” 

A frustrated sigh morphs into a groan. 

“You know what? I make professional athlete money. I’ll buy all the green vegetables so that way I don’t get yelled at for being stupid. Again.” 

He’s so dramatic.

Another bag rustles open. 

“I’ll be home soon. I love you.” 

Click. 

A Song For You

Soft strains of music float across the line. Charles doesn’t speak. Doesn’t actually realize he’s accidentally called you. He’s at his piano, lost in the piece he’s working on while you’re away on a trip. He’s missing you fiercely and coping the only way he knows how: music. 

The song meanders on for several moments. Soft. Careful. You can feel the adoration he’s pouring into every note, even through the muffled sounds of his phone being tucked away in his pocket. 

He doesn’t know he’s giving you the best gift. 

The music dies and it’s quiet. 

“Do you like it, Leo?” Charles rasps, his voice unsteady. 

Leo doesn’t answer, just lifts his head to look at your boyfriend. 

“Do you think she’ll like it?” He sounds…nervous. 

Charles rarely gets nervous. 

Except when it comes to you. 

“I’ve been working on it for ages now and it’s finally coming together. Finally feels like it’s a reflection of how I feel when I look at her.” 

A heavy pause. He still doesn’t realize the phone is recording his confession to Leo.

“I’m going to marry your mama one day.” He tells the dog. 

“I’m going to marry her and this is the song that’s going to play when she walks down the aisle towards me.” 

A few notes drift across the line again. Delicate. Like he’s piecing together a puzzle. 

“She is everything, Leo.” 

His voice his reverent, like he’s planning on getting down on his knees and worshipping you the next time he sees you. 

“Your mama has the prettiest eyes, doesn’t she? The prettiest smile? And when she laughs. God, when she laughs it’s like the sun finally peaking out from behind a days worth of storm clouds. Bright. Warm. Everything.” 

Charles chuckles, shaking his head. “And she turns me into a total sap apparently.” 

A sigh. 

“I miss her.” 

You’ve only been gone for 24 hours. 

“Do you miss her? I miss her, Leo. I know she’ll be home soon but…” 

A pause as he reaches for his phone to call you. Chuckles when he sees he already has. 

“Hello, amore. I guess you heard all of that, oui? Come back to Leo and I. We miss you. I have something I want to play for you.” 

Another pause. 

“I love you.” 

Click. 

[hoe-days]

Stan and Xeno were lowkey scared of their S/O when she was pregnant😭

Not in the sense that she yelled and threw things at them, well she would yell, but it would be more in the sense that she was an emotional time bomb, an unpredictable force of nature. They never knew when or what would tip her off.

Xeno would do something and realize it’s something that set her off the day before, but she wouldn’t react. Like two hours later he goes into the kitchen and sees her sobbing on the phone.

“Stan please come home soon, Xeno bought me low-fat Ice Cream instead of the one I asked for. He’s calling me fat-”

Xeno just stares at her because he thought he was being helpful by managing her diet.

Stan would definitely have himself moved to a base closer to home so that he can be close. If he has to get up early and drive an hour to get to the base every day just so he can be at home with his partners then so be it.

S/O’s emotions are easier for Stan to deal with than his counterpart. Xeno thinks she’s being illogical, but he understands why. But he ends up hurting her feelings somehow when he makes comments like “You’re just feeling that way because of your hormones.”😭

Stan knows how to work it though. S/O is mad at him and crying because he came home an hour later than normal?

“I’m sorry baby. Had some paper work to do. I brought that Ice Cream you like. Let me rub your feet and we can watch that show you like.”

Xeno has his moments though. Once he realizes his approach may be a little harsh then he changes it up. He accidentally hurts S/O’s feelings?

“My apologies. I’ve been doing research trying to ensure you have a safe and comfortable pregnancy, I suppose I should have asked your opinion beforehand. I just want to help you.”

You simply cannot look at that cat man’s face and hear that and still be mad. Stan comes home and sees Xeno sitting on the couch with S/O’s head in his lap while he gives them a scalp massage.

[the-apple-of-my-eye0-0]

Do you wanna fuck?

Caleb x chubby! Reader

Content warnings: Praise, breeding kink, needy Caleb, reader is afab, unprotected sex, uses of: mama, baby, pretty girl, fluffy smut, a little angst.

This has been in my drafts for a hot minute, so I thought I'd finally post it. Reader is chubby and insecure. Idk this just came to me and I thought I’d write about it.

🔞 !!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!! 🔞

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Caleb and you have been dating for a while. Everything is going great, except you’ve been too insecure to show him your body, thinking he’d see you differently once the layers of deceit are discarded.

You’d always thought he was too good for you, wayyyy out of your league. No one verbally fed into this delusion but you could just tell by the way girls fawned over him in public, giving you eyes full of disgust.

He’d been persistent on wanting to have sex with you, but always stayed within your boundaries whenever you tell him no. As his girlfriend you’ve felt guilty for not giving him what the both of you wanted so bad.

So tonight you finally give in, too horny to overthink or back out.

After another steamy make out session, you told him the words he oh so wanted to hear “I’m ready baby, let’s have sex”.

His face was pure shock, taking a moment to register what you said. “Are you sure pip? I need to be sure you really want to.” He asked, hands resting on your waist.

“Yes I’m sure, please fuck me caleb” you pleaded. And with that a switch flipped inside him.

A smirk rose on his face, eyes going dark as he climbed over you, pining you onto the bed. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that” he kisses you, feverishly, not able to get enough.

Slowly, he starts to remove your clothes, starting with your shirt, admiring every inch of your skin. Then sliding off your shorts, until you were almost bare beneath him.

“God, can’t believe you’ve kept this precious sight from me for so long” his voice almost sounding like a whine?

‘What?’ You thought to yourself, blindsided at the fact he loved your body, just as much as you hated it, if not more.

“Let me see what else you’ve been hiding from me”, a smirk forms on his face as he kisses up your arm while removing your bra.

Once the garment is removed, he loses all sense of control, sucking on your nipple while the other is in between his unforgiving fingers.

“Caleb~” you moan, the new sensation sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

“Keep saying my name like that baby, love hearing your moans” he says as he moves to your other nipple, continuing to give you pleasure.

You could feel his feel his hard cock through his pants on your thigh, slowly grinding in need of some friction.

“Wanted this for so long.” He kisses every inch of your skin, leaving trails of light bruises in his wake.

“Hearing your pretty moans through the walls, thinking I’m asleep — drove me crazy, looked forward to them every night” his confession sending shivers down your spine.

You gasp at the thought of him listening, cheeks turning red with embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry baby, I was just scared…” you explain.

“Don’t be,” kiss, “not here,” kiss, “not with me,” kiss, “gonna make you feel so good,” kiss, “gonna make you mine forever”. He kisses down to the hem of your panties, looking into your eyes for permission.

You bite your lip in anticipation and nod eagerly, “Please Caleb, I need you”, you beg.

He doesn’t waste any time, removing the cloth before burying his head between your thighs.

“Fuuuuuck~” you moan, the feeling of his tongue against your needy clit makes your eyes roll back, your hands gripping onto his hair, slightly tugging at the strands.

“Mhm—that’s it, let everyone know how good I’m making you feel” he purrs against your clit. The vibration going right through you.

“Ah, Caleb!— feels so good, need you inside me” you plead, looking at the lewd sight beneath you.

“Yeah? You ready for this cock, baby? Fuck can’t wait to be inside you” he raises his head, watching you through lust hazed eyes.

"Mhm, can't wait any longer." You whine, forgetting all your worries.

You watch as he removes his shirt, showing off his toned muscles. A familiar feeling rises in your stomach, a mix of butterflies and nerves.

He reaches for his side drawer, grabbing a condom, that was until your hand wrapped around his wrist, "wanna feel all of you" you tell him.

He stares at you with wide eyes for a moment before a smirk grows on his face. "You sure? Can't promise I'll be able to resist coming in this sweet pussy?" He warns.

You didn't care, how could you when you've been waiting for this exact moment since you met him.

"I don't care, just want you inside me, want to feel you cum inside me" you reassure him.

You don't have to tell again, he's imagined having a family with you for so long, having a mini you running around.

He unzips his pants, removing the remainder of his clothes, allowing his hard, throbbing cock to spring free. "Yeah, wan' me to make you a mama? Wanna carry my baby inside you?" He coos.

"Mhmm- Ah" you gasp as he pushes his cock inside you. "aw baby, feel so good wrapped around me" he takes a moment before thrusting inside you.

You melt into the pleasure of his curved tip hitting against your sweet spot over and over, you repeatedly moan his name as if it was a sacred prayer.

"You like that, hm?" he groans, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I'll give this to you whenever you want baby"

You take his head in your hands and pull him in for a deep kiss, no ferocity, no haste, just pure love.

You feel him throb inside you, until he starts to thrust deeper and harder, making you pull away from the kiss, gasping at the pleasure.

He continues fuck you at a mind breaking pace. Causing your body to jolt with each thrust.

You have just enough brainpower to realise what's happening and you grab the blanket to try and cover yourself.

Caleb didn't like that one bit, pinning your arm to the bed and tossing the blanket to the side.

“Don’t cover your stomach pretty girl, wanna see as I fuck a baby into it” he kisses your stomach, shattering all your insecurities instantly.

You let go, allowing the lust to finally overtake you. Your eyes rolling back, mouth open slightly.

"That's it baby, forget about everything else, just focus on the feeling of my cock filling you up." he moans breathlessly.

You feel your climax rising. "Gonna cum" you babble out mindlessly.

"Yeah? Cum for me baby, cum 'round my cock" he pleads.

With that you squirt around his cock, moaning loud enough for your neighbours to hear.

A guttural moan escapes his lips, feeling your walls clamp around him.

"'m gonna cum baby, gonna make you a mama, wanna see you hold my baby, can you give me that?" he whines.

You're too cock drunk to reply, just nodding your head pathetically.

He cums inside you, groaning at the pleasure, giving you a few more thrusts before collapsing beside you, panting heavily.

"Fuck, you're so hot baby, love you so much". he whispers breathlessly into your ear.

[quill-vy]

WHOOPS, FELL IN LOVE!

warnings! use of alcohol, swearing and suggestive comments (ish) (let me know if there’s any more!)

a/n: i wrote this a while back, kind of before i began posting on here… i just wanted to say thank you to anyone who has supported me so far and helping me gain the confidence to post this! i tried to make some tweaks over the last day or so, but it was kind of like 12am so…….. don’t kill me if nothing makes sense ok 💔

the night had started like any other—lando losing at fifa, max talking endless shit, and you curled up on the couch with a cocktail carlos had sworn was "not that strong" (it was, and you were already feeling it). the flat was comfortably messy, the low hum of conversation punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional shout of frustration from the tv.

lando groaned dramatically as his virtual player missed yet another wide-open goal, flinging the controller onto the coffee table like it had personally betrayed him.

“honestly, you’re shit at this,” max said, grinning as he leaned forward to grab another slice of pizza from the box sitting between you. he chewed obnoxiously, the smug expression on his face growing with every bite.

“i am not,” lando muttered, collapsing against the cushions like his soul had just left his body. “you’re just cheating.”

you laughed, taking a slow sip of your cocktail before nudging lando’s foot with your own. “how do you even cheat at fifa? are you hacking the game from your brain or something?”

he gave you a look, one that screamed betrayal, and then narrowed his eyes. almost dangerously. you knew that look. that was the look he got when he was about to do something deeply unwise, usually involving a dare, a terrible idea, or both.

“i bet you can’t go a whole month without hooking up with anyone,” lando said suddenly, pointing at max like he’d just cracked the code to world peace.

max nearly choked on his pizza. “easy,” he said through a laugh, brushing crumbs from his shirt. “i could do that in my sleep.”

“bullshit,” lando fired back instantly. “you, max verstappen? the man who flirts with anything that breathes? please. i’d pay good money to watch you try.”

you shook your head, smiling behind your glass. “honestly, i’ll bet you can’t even go a week,” you said, turning the tables. “you’re worse than he is. you can’t go three days without flirting with someone. bare minimum!”

that shut him up.

max cracked up, half-snorting as he leaned over to fist-bump you. “she’s got a point, mate.”

lando’s mouth fell open in exaggerated offense. “i am not that bad.”

you raised your eyebrows. “lando, last week you tried to flirt with a flight attendant and the woman sitting in the exit row. within twenty minutes of each other.”

“that was just being friendly!”

“sure,” max said, still laughing. “real friendly.”

lando crossed his arms over his chest, clearly pretending not to be flustered. “fine. you want proof? let’s make it a challenge.”

“i already made it a challenge,” you said, sitting up straighter. “one week. no flirting, no hookups, nothing. just wholesome, monk-level celibacy.”

lando tilted his head, considering. “and if i make it?”

you paused. “then i’ll…” you tried to think of something suitably embarrassing, something that would annoy you enough to make the bet mean something. before you could speak, lando grinned.

“you’ll be my personal assistant for a race weekend,” he declared triumphantly. “full service. wake-up calls, coffee orders, dealing with media — everything.”

you groaned. “no way. that’s evil.”

“scared?”

his tone was maddeningly smug, and the worst part was that it worked. you felt your heart kick up a little at the challenge, at the way his eyes danced with amusement like he already thought he’d won.

“fine,” you snapped, ignoring the way your skin was suddenly very aware of his proximity. “but if you lose, you have to wear that godawful neon orange suit to the next gala.”

max nearly fell off the couch. “oh, yes. this i need in my life.”

lando wrinkled his nose. “that thing? the one with the rhinestones?”

“and the matching shoes,” you added sweetly.

he hesitated for a moment, weighing his pride against the sheer horror of that suit. then, with a resigned sigh, he stuck out his hand.

“deal.”

you took it, your fingers brushing his as you shook. his skin was warm, his grip firm, and you told yourself not to read into the way he held on for just a beat longer than necessary.

this was fine.

this was totally, absolutely fine.

except it wasn’t. not even a little.

---

you didn’t think lando would actually take the bet seriously.

but then he showed up at your hotel room the next morning, sunglasses perched on his head and a ridiculous grin on his face. "ready to babysit?"

you blinked. "what?"

"the bet," he said, like it was obvious. "if i'm not allowed to flirt, someone's gotta make sure i don't accidentally break the rules." he wiggled his eyebrows. "that's you."

you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "no way."

"scared i'll win?"

"scared i'll strangle you before the week's over," you muttered, but you grabbed your jacket anyway.

it became a routine after that. lando dragged you everywhere—paddock interviews, sponsor events, even team meetings. you sat through endless debriefs, biting back laughter as he shot you desperate looks every time a journalist or fan got a little too friendly.

"you're enjoying this," he accused after one particularly brutal press session where a reporter had spent the entire time batting her eyelashes at him.

you smirked. "immensely."

lando groaned, slumping against the wall. "this is torture."

"poor baby," you cooed, patting his cheek. "can't handle not being able to charm everyone you meet?"

he caught your wrist before you could pull away, his grip gentle but firm. "maybe i only wanna charm one person," he murmured.

your breath hitched.

then he winked and let you go, strolling off like he hadn't just short-circuited your brain.

asshole.

---

the problem was, the more time you spent together, the harder it got to ignore the things you'd spent years burying.

it started off as something light, something stupid, it was just a bet, a game between friends who should’ve known better. but somewhere between the endless days of lando dragging you around like his emotional support human and the quiet nights in hotel rooms where the only light came from the glow of the tv, something shifted. something you couldn’t name without making it real.

like the way his laugh always came a half-second after yours, as if he was listening for it. the way he started leaning into your space without thinking, shoulder pressed to yours during long meetings, fingers brushing yours during lunch like it was instinct. the way his gaze lingered a little too long, soft around the edges, like you were something fragile he was afraid to break.

he never said anything, not directly. but he didn’t have to.

it was in the way he waited for you after interviews. in the way he stood between you and the occasional overeager fan, not possessive but protective. it was in the way he started bringing you coffee in the mornings, always exactly how you liked it, always with a quiet smile that said he’d been paying attention for a lot longer than you thought.

and you, well, you were screwed.

you tried to act normal. kept telling yourself it was just the bet, just lando being dramatic. but deep down, you knew better. because every time he touched you, even casually, your skin burned. every time he smiled at you across a crowded room, you felt like the only person in the world. and every time he looked at you like that—like you mattered, you had to fight the urge to fall to your knees.

one night, after a long day of travel and too many media obligations, you both collapsed onto his hotel bed without even thinking about it. some terrible movie played in the background, neither of you really watching it. your legs were tangled loosely, your head resting against the pillows as lando scrolled aimlessly on his phone.

you glanced over at him and caught him staring.

“you’re staring,” you said, nudging him lightly with your foot.

he didn’t even pretend to be guilty. just hummed and tossed his phone aside, shifting onto his side so he could face you properly. “can’t help it.”

you tried to play it cool, tried not to let your heart give you away. “why?”

“you’re pretty,” he said, so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you rolled your eyes, even though you felt your whole body react—an involuntary tightening in your chest, your fingers twitching like they wanted to reach for him. “you’re losing the bet.”

“don’t care.”

“you literally made a deal—”

“i know what i said,” he cut in, his voice quieter now. he sat up slowly, his eyes locked on yours. “but i don’t wanna flirt with anyone else. just you.”

you sat up too, back resting against the headboard, arms crossed like that could protect you from whatever this was quickly becoming. “what?”

lando exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath for weeks. maybe years. he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. “i think i lost the bet the second you made it.”

you shook your head, not trusting your voice. “that doesn’t make sense.”

“doesn’t it?” he asked, leaning in closer, like he was trying to force you to see it. “you really think i haven’t been trying to get your attention for years? why do you think i flirt with everyone else? why do you think i annoy you so much? you’re the only one who’s ever looked at me and seen more than the driver, more than the jokes. you make me feel like… like i’m not faking it all the time.”

you blinked, because he never talked like this. lando was all charm and noise, a hurricane of energy and sarcasm. but this—this was real. raw. and terrifying.

he was still watching you, eyes searching, waiting.

you didn’t know who moved first.

maybe it was him. maybe it was you. maybe it didn’t matter.

because one second there was space between you, and the next there wasn’t. his hand found your cheek, yours fisted in the front of his hoodie, and then you were kissing him.

soft at first. hesitant. like neither of you wanted to admit how long you’d been waiting for this.

but it didn’t stay soft for long.

because once the floodgates opened, everything poured out. all the stolen glances, all the almosts, all the things neither of you had ever said. his hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer. your lips parted under his, breath catching in your throat as the weight of it all hit you at once.

and when you finally broke apart, just enough to breathe, you stayed there—foreheads touching, hearts racing.

“so,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “what now?”

lando smiled, thumb tracing your jaw. “now we stop pretending it was just a bet.”

---

"i lost," lando announced the next morning, voice far too cheerful for someone who’d just admitted defeat. he walked into the hospitality suite like he owned the place, sunglasses pushed up into his curls, grin bright and unapologetic.

max choked mid-sip, spraying coffee across the table. “what?”

lando dropped into the seat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours with casual ease, like he belonged there. like he'd always belonged there. “the bet,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “i lost.”

you didn’t look at him. you couldn’t. not with the way your cheeks were burning and your heart was still somewhere up in your throat from the night before. instead, you focused very intently on stirring your tea, like it held the answers to all your problems.

max’s eyes darted between the two of you. then narrowed. “what did you do?”

“nothing,” you said quickly, a little too quickly.

lando didn’t even try to hide the smugness in his voice. “absolutely nothing.”

“that’s a lie if i’ve ever heard one,” max muttered, leaning back in his chair with a groan. he rubbed a hand over his face, like he was regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. “jesus. i don’t wanna know. seriously. whatever happened, you can both take it to your graves.”

you kicked lando under the table, partly for being so obvious, partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.

he didn’t flinch. just grabbed your hand where it rested in your lap, lacing his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. he gave it a gentle squeeze, and you finally looked at him.

his grin softened a little when your eyes met. less cocky, more sincere. like the truth of it was settling in for both of you. the bet was over. the game had ended. and what was left now—this quiet, aching warmth between you—was real.

max muttered something under his breath about needing stronger coffee and stood up, taking his mug with him.

lando leaned over slightly, voice low. “worth it.”

you rolled your eyes, but your thumb brushed across the back of his hand anyway, slow and deliberate.

yeah. it really, really was.

---

lando showed up to the next gala in the neon orange suit.

not just any orange. it was loud, blinding, highlighter-bright—complete with rhinestone lapels, matching shoes, and a pair of tinted sunglasses he absolutely did not need but wore anyway like he was on the cover of a fashion magazine that catered exclusively to chaos. it was objectively terrible. a crime against fabric. and he looked so smug about it that you almost forgot how bad it really was.

almost.

you burst out laughing the second you saw him. not a polite giggle. not a subtle laugh behind your hand. full, unfiltered, chest-aching laughter. you nearly doubled over, clutching your stomach as he strutted toward you like he was on a runway.

“you didn’t have to—” you started, still laughing, wiping at the corners of your eyes.

“i lost the bet,” lando said simply, with a shrug that was far too casual for someone dressed like a traffic cone. “deal’s a deal.”

you opened your mouth to tease him further, but then he was pulling you in by the waist, his hand warm against the small of your back, the other adjusting the fabric of your dress like he had every right to touch you that way. and maybe now, he did.

“besides,” he murmured, ignoring the flashes of cameras and the curious glances from people around you. “i might’ve lost the bet, but i got you. so i’d say i won.”

your heart did that stupid fluttering thing again, the one it had started doing every time he looked at you like you were something he wanted to hold onto. and you knew he meant it. knew it wasn’t just a line, wasn’t just lando being lando. it was real. and god, you were in trouble.

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. it was quick, barely more than a second, but it was enough to make the photographers start snapping faster and lando’s fingers tighten just slightly at your waist.

from somewhere behind you, max groaned loudly.

“finally,” he muttered, walking past with a drink in hand. “took you two long enough. honestly, the sexual tension was becoming a health hazard.”

lando grinned against your temple as you laughed again, the kind of laugh that came from somewhere deep in your chest.

you leaned into him a little more, letting him hold you, letting yourself enjoy it—him, this, all of it.

because somewhere along the way, it had stopped being about bets and dares and pretending not to care.

somewhere along the way, you'd stopped pretending at all.

a/n: what do you think? ❤️

UNFORTUNATELY not an enemies to lovers, but i reckon this is kind of solid, honestly—as compared to my other stuff, of course 😗

[urinarythreatinfection]

Me..?

In which the old men (Fujitora, Brook, Jinbe) find out you (top male reader) think they're sexy. Suggestive. 1646 words total.

Fujitora

Fujitora walks around the marine base, feeling stressed once again about the warlords. He’d argued once again about them to Akainu, and once again was shot down. “What a ridiculous problem, to be relying on pirates that we’re supposed to be punishing while they hurt the civilians we’re meant to be protecting.” He grumbles angrily, stopping when he hears voices and clanging of equipment. He’s where the new marines train. This is a good opportunity, these are the future of the marines. If they’re doing well there’s hope for this corrupt system. Before he walks to them he remembers something. ‘I did see one the other day but he looked nervous.. I am an admiral, I should keep myself hidden so as to not disturb them.’ However, contrary to his beliefs, they aren’t just training.

“So, Captain Tashigi.” One of them mentions while dueling another.

“Right!?” The second blocks an attack. “She’s totally cool but with the cute side is out of this world. I’d imagine her squirming, kissing her up and down.”

“If we’re getting that kinky I still think Vice Admiral Hina is the best, her mature sexy charm is great. The kind of girl that would step on you for getting hard. Ahh i’d do anything to be in her unit~” The third one sighs dreamily while lifting weights.

‘This is rather inappropriate talk, but I suppose they are young… At least they’re still moving.’ He may not be able to see but he can sense their movements. The group turns to you.

“What about you?” They all ask and you hesitate.

“Uh well, it’s a guy.” You’re anxious but that seemingly makes them more interested.

‘It’s good to see diversity.’ Fujitora thinks to himself, pleased.

“Really!? Then who is it? Captain Smoker is cool, is that your kinda guy? He could be dominating.” The second one suggests while the other two nod.

“I’m a top, though.” You clarify and they look confused, not being able to think of a higher up that could ever be bottomed.

“Whaat, really?”

“All the guys here are rough though. Who is it?” You hesitate more but eventually answer.

“Uh.. Admiral.. Fujitora.” All of them freeze.. including said Admiral Fujitora hiding less than 20 feet away.

“WHAT!?” One screams and you cover his mouth.

“Dude shut up you’re gonna get us running laps.” You panic. Fujitora slowly starts to realize your voice is familiar. You’re the newbie that he met the other day, the one that looked nervous. He had assumed it was because he was too high up as an admiral it was scaring you. When he thinks back you did look more.. shy than scared.

“What is even the appeal of that? He’s huge and not cute at all, plus he’s old and wrinkly.”

‘They don’t have to be that rude…’ He feels a little hurt now.

“I think he’s cute.” Before another guy can scream you cover his mouth. “Hear me out!” You clear your throat. “He’s got this vibe that’s so.. untouchable. Like even thinking sinful thoughts of him will get lightning shooting down at you. That sort of taboo feeling is hot.. plus I think he’s sexy. Sure he’s old but he’s handsome.”

“You’re a top though.. what about him is.. ugh..” In a way he’s also wondering that. Untouchable, taboo, is that true? Such an odd way to put it.

“I like that he’s tall, a tall person is hot to fuck since you can easily access their chest, there’s so much to grab. Plus being ridden is hot since you’ve got that weight on you.”

‘Sexual very quickly..’

“Plus he can be cute. He’s always wearing that long sweater turtleneck thing and kimono, when I think about slowly slipping it off or sliding my hand underneath while he’s nervous it-” You’re interrupted by a hand over your mouth.

“Okay stop talking.” A guy quickly interrupts you, turning pale and nauseous at the imagery while Fujitora’s jaw drops. “Please.”

“I thought we were giving out wants, why am I the weird one!?” You pull the hand off and the guy shakes his head slowly.

“Not weird.. just.. ugh.. well none of us have to be worried about you with tastes like that.”

“Still it’s...” Your voice gets quieter as the admiral turns and starts to quickly leave.

“I’ve heard something I was not supposed to.” He mumbles to himself, face red.

Brook

“I was quite popular, yes. Mostly with women, but there were men too.” Brook chats to you about his life back when he was human, the two of you sitting at the aquarium bar. “Though none of that has happened now.”

“Weren’t you popular as a star during the two years, though?” You remember seeing girls swoon and scream his name when he would get on stage.

“I was. But not for my looks. Women tend to be more romantic so it’s easy to charm them if you’re a true gentleman. For men, well, they’re visual creatures.” He leans back against the couch, throwing his head back. “Though that also includes me yohohoho!”

“I think you’re still handsome.” He stops laughing and looks at you.

“You’re very kind (Y/n)-san.” His voice is soft. “A romantic man, are you?”

“No, that’s not it. I mean, you’re.. hot.” Brook tilts his head.

“Oh? My bones?”

“I know you’re just bones but you’re elegant, and when you go rock and roll you’re.. sexy.” It’s hard to explain, especially when you’re trying to censor yourself.

“You’re attracted to bones, a bit concerning for you.” He points out and you sigh. “But I can’t say that doesn’t make me happy, even if it makes no sense.”

“I think it does, I think you’re lewd.” You mumble and he jolts.

“Eh?” He stares at you. “Seriously?”

“Did I say too much?” He quickly shakes his head and motions for you to continue. “You know, like, lewd. The way you pose and the way your afro frames your skull. That one time you forgot to button your pants and they slid down to show a bit of pelvis, it was sexy. It makes someone want to grab you, move you around.”

“EH!?” He stares at you in shock, his jaw dropped. If he had eyes they’d be twinkling.

“Okay i went too far that time.” Brook’s mind runs at a million miles an hour. you actually think that? Is his skeleton lewd? Do you mean he’s thinking when you mentioned “moving him around”?

“Yohoho!? Your youth is shocking (Y/n)-san!” He puts his hands on his cheekbones, shining from the, frankly sexual, compliments. “I’m blushing! Though I have no skin or blood to blush with!” He stands up to spin around. He’s happy. You want to see him happier, though you’re embarrassed.

“I don’t think I’m the only one, you’ve got charm. You could give plenty of guys bone-rs” You nervously joke, immediately regretting it. He doesn’t seem deterred though, instead getting close to you.

“Including you?” He asks and you falter.

“N-No, uh..” Your eyes swim around, trying to find a way out of this. Brook can sense your panic, it means you have.

“Yoho!” He jumps up, hitting the ceiling.

Jinbe

You sip tea, speaking about different topics with Jinbe while other crewmates are out to explore the island. He puts down his teacup and sighs with contentment. “I do appreciate you staying to speak with me but did you not want to go out with the others?”

“Ah.. well.. I mean islands are everywhere, right?” You did want to explore, but this is a prime chance to be alone with Jinbe.

“You seemed rather excited to go though, you don’t need to stay with me if you think I’m going to be lonely. You should be with young men your age.” He clears his throat. “Especially since you seemed rather.. frustrated this morning.” You flinch, he’s talking about when you unknowingly walked out of the cabin with morning wood. “You could find a man here to help with that.”

“That’s…”

“No need to be shy about it.” He says that but he also looks nervous, he must be holding it in so he can help you. “It’s a natural thing.” You still look tense and he tries to joke to lighten the mood. “Being with an old man like me won’t help you!” He lets out a hearty laugh.

“Well I wouldn’t say that..” You mumble before you can stop yourself and he pauses. “Ah.. er..” You messed up,

“So you go the meditation route, that is a way to calm it.” but he misunderstood. You should be glad, ecstatic even, but the fact he went to that instead of you finding him attractive is ticking you off.

“I could’ve meant that you’re attractive.” You lightly suggest and he hums.

“Could’ve been, but I’m not the typical want of someone.” He pats his belly to make a point.

“Are you saying you’re not attractive?” You’re getting more ticked off now.

“Well I’m not insecure but especially for your age you’d be-”

“You’re sexy though.” You interrupt him with a firm statement.

…

“Me?” He says after a pause. His cheeks are slightly tinted red, something like “handsome” would’ve been nice but being called sexy is shocking. He laughs again. “Well I didn’t expect that.”

“You are! You’ve got a charm and a nice body. I think it’s super sexy. I could.. I mean.. uh, well I won’t go into it but you’re definitely very tempting.” You’re adamant even if your confidence is starting to wear off, trying not to go overboard. He does get the hint though, and that hint quickens his heart. He puts his cup to his mouth, suddenly looking a bit shy.

“You’ve got interesting tastes then.” Now the both of you are flustered. “Thank you.”

I know its not four and i usually post then but im too excited and i mean its only an houe difference so does it really matter :p. Enjoy tho :D

[bearyfast]

The Ghosts of Imola Circuit - KA12

Partnering: None

Type: Angst/fluff (not really sure how to label it)

Summary: During Kimi's first ever Formula One home race at the Imola Circuit, he starts getting... haunted. Or more simply: Kimi discovers the ghosts of Imola Circuit.

Warnings: mentions of ghosts, swearing (if I've missed any, please let me know and I'll add them!)

F1 Masterlist

Kimi Antonelli- the newest rising star in Formula One. The 18 year old driver that everybody thinks, no, knows will be the next Max Verstappen.

But this weekend would be extra special; as it was his first home race, the Imola Grand Prix. The home of historic races since 1980, and finally it was Kimi’s turn to show that he deserved to be a legendary Italian F1 driver.

Even though it was only practice day, Kimi stayed late into the night to walk around the track, memorize race strategies, and get into the right headspace before the race. Nothing could break his focus- well, except that.

Every now and then a flash of something by his window would appear, but he didn’t recognize it in any way, the thing looked almost deformed and not human- and it scared the shit out of Kimi.

So who could it be? A trick of the light? Someone pranking him?

He tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but the little taps and knocks on his motorhome door got to him, leading to Kimi opening the door just a tiny bit to peek outside- but no one was there.

It was just dead quiet outside; as if no one was around and no one had been annoying the hell out of him by not just fully knocking on his door so he would come out, let him know why he was being targeted.

“Hello? Anybody out here?” Kimi called out quietly, although after he said that he really hoped that nobody would reply, he wasn’t the biggest fan of being haunted by a… ghost? Whatever was out there, Kimi did not need to deal with any of that.

Though calling out seemed to be the wrong option because a very loud howl of wind seemingly came towards Kimi, weaving in between Mercedes buildings just to reach him standing in the small crack of his motorhome door.

A shiver ran down his spine as Kimi frantically slammed the door and attempted to lock it so quickly that it took him more like fifteen seconds.

“This cannot be happening right now” Kimi repeated to himself at least three times but shrieked and jumped slightly as another knock sounded at the door.

Quickly opening the door again to try and catch whoever could possibly be there, nothing was there. Yet again he was tricked by, by- the ghost of Imola Circuit. That’s what it had to be, there was no other explanation for what Kimi had been seeing and hearing.

Yes, he is a little sleep deprived, a little overworked, a little amped up, and- you know what? Maybe he isn’t just a little of those things, he is a lot of those things. Even more than a lot if you ask him at his worst moment.

“I will not deal with this treatment at my first home race in F1 by a ghost” Kimi huffed as he grabbed a Mercedes puffer jacket, hugging it to himself, then trekking out towards the track while searching for something, anything, that could lead to what he was experiencing making sense.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision to go on a literal ghost hunt, because first of all, if anybody asked what the hell he was doing he was going to sound like an idiot, and second, Kimi did not handle the cold well- at all.

Which was why while snooping around every nook and cranny at Imola Circuit, his teeth were chattering so loudly that anybody walking nearby would think it was a ticking time-bomb.

With heavy and tired eyes, Kimi turned back around to head back to his motorhome; being out there, practically freezing to death while it was likely that everybody still at the track thought he was crazy for still being out there was not ideal.

“Oh my-” Kimi sighed, putting his head against the door of his closed motorhome. His motorhome that he was not inside of, but instead locked outside of.

Normally when he got locked out of his motorhome (which happened more than Kimi liked to admit) he just went to Toto or one of his engineers to get their spare key, but obviously they weren’t there because of how late it was.

That meant that Kimi had to literally break into his own motorhome because his phone and hotel key card were still in there. Great, he thought.

As Kimi has never had to break into a motorhome before, he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that, but he figured that he might have accidentally left the window open, or, he hoped he did, since breaking the window would probably lead to an alarm going off (which would mean everyone would know).

Kimi slowly walked around the back, heading for the hopefully open back window while he pulled on the zipper of his puffer jacket to somehow keep the cold away more.

What if the ghost is following me? What if it’s watching you right now- no. No, don’t think of that, there is no ghost, of course there is no ghost, he thought. All Kimi was doing was freaking himself out, ghosts aren’t real. Whatever was happening was not real, he thought.

As much as he tried to tell himself that there wasn’t a ghost, all the taps along the ground that seemed to be following him did not help his nerves-

“Oh my fucking god!” Kimi screamed quietly after he felt something tap his shoulder, his mouth kept open as he just stood still.

What does one do in this situation? Do you face the ghost or just scream and hope someone finds you?

But then a crash came in front of Kimi, a trash can fell over and a single raccoon ran out of it. Are there multiple ghosts? The ghosts of Imola Circuit? 

Turning around slowly, he kept his eyes closed just in case the ghost (or maybe ghosts plural?) was right in front of him- though when nothing was talking to him or scaring him or maybe dragging him away to the depths of hell to kill him, Kimi’s eyes opened slowly.

“What the fuck” Kimi muttered when he saw what was there. Which was in fact not a ghost. Or multiple ghosts. It was a racoon. Lots of racoons. Many, many, racoons.

All with beady little eyes that just… stared at Kimi.

“Fuck me, man”

[hopefull-mindset]

Hi!! How are you?

What are your thoughts on the komaeda OVA?

Oh my god! I never saw this, my bad. I’ve been doing fine, but the essay is kicking my ass everytime I write at least 4 paragraphs. Komaeda in the OVA…

I love the idea of the OVA, I think it makes a lot of sense that instead of completely going braindead, the Neo World Program (as a therapeutic device) would end up triggering a version of their ideal world to hide away the traumatic experiences they had gone through to support their fragile minds after death. The ambiguity of the ethics to doing so fits the nature of the simulation very well. However, I do wish this topic could be explored outside of just an episode long OVA. It’d be nice if it were a movie or light novel instead. Sad.

(This was getting longer than I thought, more thoughts bellow. Very extensive thoughts on what I didn’t like and what I did.)

I have my problems with the OVA, like what happens after he leaves the pod. It’s very meaningful to me that Komaeda took Hinata’s hand as that’s a first step towards a hopeful future for the both of them, but I’m also a bit iffy on Hinata calling himself both Izuru Kamukura and Hajime Hinata. I understand why he had introduced himself like that as technically “Izuru Kamukura” (the state) is still himself and that’s not going to suddenly go away. It’s said in the ending of sdr2 that he’d choose to live on as Hinata, which is an ambiguous statement on how he currently is mentally, but still somewhat hopeful.

It really would’ve been better if there was no dr3 anime as the point of the ending is that you don’t know if things will truly change for the main cast, but there was still and effort to see it through. Anyway, my main problem with him introducing himself with “Izuru Kamukura” (the identity) is that the point of rejecting it in the first place was the fact this identity is not his own. This identity is the representation of ideals gone bad, HPA’s worst problems bundled up into one person, and Hinata’s own insecurities killing him.

This is why you’re thrown into a trial grounds to shoot down the thoughts and insecurities of a “Izuru Kamukura” who’s just Hinata’s with long hair and red eyes. This had always been himself, but he doesn’t have to be like this. So when he rejected this identity, he had not been rejecting what he had become outside of the simulation (that’s counterproductive), he’s rejecting a future where he still had thoughts like that. He is reclaiming who he was on his own accord. So it’s a little nitpicky of me to say anything since it’s not that big of an issue, but hmm.

Besides the very obvious complaint of the fact that everything is going too fast to actually see proper development, I have two issues with post-simulation Komaeda. The first one is just a problem I have with how they wrote Komaeda in the anime in general. He’s too… open? It’s hard to explain. This isn’t about his honesty. I do love that they made sure to keep Komaeda’s smiling, soft faced character. The dissonance between that and his actions is the point and very important. However, there’s still a problem when he’s a little too expressive with certain emotions.

They get his archetype wrong. I won’t get too into it here because it’s not that important to the OVA, but the point is that you’re always supposed to feel that distance in Komaeda’s emotions and actions. His views are divorced from reality because the material world is not livable for him. He’s stuck in his head and always scared that he’ll just hurt someone when he genuinely starts caring about them. So Komaeda would not at all hug Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi!! It’s honestly questionable why he even did that.

It doesn’t matter that, for whatever reason, he was friends with them in the fake world. Even if he still felt like he had a connection with them (don’t really understand why though, this entire choice was odd because neither of them like him and his emotional attachment to literally any of them is nonexistent compared to how he feels about Hinata), he would never do such a thing so easily. It takes him rationalizing that everything in Island Mode was bad luck just so he could convince himself to ask to be Hinata’s friend.

Even UTDP and DR S gets it more correct with how his relationships with Hinata was formed, but still a bit distant with everyone else. Like he’s more present with class activities, but Kazuichi still comments on how Komaeda talks to them like they aren’t people, but instead just some other version that doesn’t exist. That’s just how Komaeda is. He doesn’t hate his classmates, but he’s always hung up on his ideals first. The whole reason he can make a proper bond with Hinata is because he’s not talented.

This brings me to my second point, and I’ve brought this up before when talking about post-game Komahina. Komaeda would NOT at all act the same as he did in the simulation. Where’s his lost feelings on his ideals slowly crumbling from the inside after seeing the Ultimate Despair still trying their best for their future? Where’s his even harsher emotional distance to everyone else? Komaeda would never praise them for their talents, having used them for despair.

Like maybe Servant would, the car crash version of Komaeda. Komaeda in despair is a total mess, visibly confusing himself in his conversation with Izuru Kamukura. That guy would totally say that symbols of hope using their abilities to cause despair will only lead to the brightest hope of all. He’s probably so funny when he interacts with other Ultimate Despair, I wish we got to see more of him. Insulting them and praising them in the same breath.

But usually when people depict post-game content, the simulation events get put to forefront first in how they act instead of completely resembling who they were pre-game. A reading that Komaeda is acting the same he usually would because he refuses to pick apart his world view is fine because that is how Komaeda can be. He wouldn’t just let go of them entirely, it’s his lifeline. He can only accommodate it.

But, here’s my problem with the OVA. If he’s getting on that boat, then it must mean that he’s accepting a path similar to Hinata. To want and expect a future for himself is a huge jump for Komaeda’s development. Again, this is a bit nitpicky, but Komaeda should be showing more resistance. This keeps coming back to my problems with who’s writing this story and the time limit on what they could do with this story. I should stop talking about this minimal stuff.

Onto actual content from the fake world hahah. I don’t have much to criticize with this because it’s just a rendition of what Komaeda thinks would be an ideal world. One where everyone is happy while he still gets punished by bad luck for just being Komaeda. His self hatred runs deep as someone who considers himself a source of despair just by existing. Other people make a good point about how his luck in the fake world doesn’t affect other people, but it makes you wonder if Komaeda unconsciously still thinks his parents are dead in this world.

Komaeda’s “ideal world”… how ideal is it? He’s friends with his classmates, but he still thinks of himself as a background character. Again, it goes back to Komaeda’s psychology and his worldview being on the bigger picture rather than the individual. Komaeda is still Komaeda after all, even when he shows a side of himself that hates talent. It’s an unconscious thought he thinks is nothing like himself, but deep down under Komaeda false ideal that even he believes in, I’m sure that he has resentments against what he believes in being absolute truth.

Out of everything the anime has done with Komaeda, this is the most correct one and plausible path to explore when it comes to Komaeda’s psyche that he shoves deep down. I think of it as a play on Hinata’s question about what he would do if he lived in a world with no despair and hope in FTE. Komaeda’s reaction to it fascinates me so much?? I don’t think he’s ever entertain the idea because he can’t imagine a world where his luck doesn’t exist and doesn’t have to experience total extremes at all times.

His reaction is so…. neutral. There’s nothing positive or negative he expresses against this question. Like he’s responding to a hypothetical that has nothing to do with him. But, I’m sure somewhere inside of him, this question would tear him apart. Is he jealous of normal people? Is he jealous their supposed ignorance and false confidence that they can be someone? Does he hate them because of envy, deep down? Or like this OVA is saying, does Komaeda hate talent as a source of a horrible issue that makes it so the individual can never be happy no matter which one they are?

Of course, his unconscious feelings in talent have to do with his feelings on his own talent causing him as much distress as it does others. I don’t think Komaeda genuinely hates normal people or ever has. The way he talks about them has to do with viewing their collective worthlessness to society as fact. It is interesting though to pick at some of those thoughts Komaeda might be having if he hadn’t brainwashed himself so thoroughly. Him reacting horribly to the flashing thoughts of the game was so scrumptious.

The only other part to comment on is World Ender, the coolest concept ever that existed for so little time. I’m exaggerating, but analysis-wise he’s sooo good. A break in Komaeda’s ideal world thats destroying his illusion being a Hajime similar to how he looked when he chose a future Komaeda never did, just to get him to come with him on their path? kyaaa!!! So cool!!

Like I do think the way World Ender does it is a bit too abrupt and I still think his character could be perfected to be even more with how he destroys the illusion for Komaeda (it could even be called too cruel), but then I might as well just rewrite the OVA hahah. For what he’s worth as is, the abruptness is just like how Hinata feels to Komaeda. Imagine meeting a guy that cuts through everything you believe in, makes using your ideal system on him hard, and even after finding out the worst news in the world, you’re confused as to why you still care for him…

Alright, no more talking. I have nothing else to say right now about the OVA. So all in all, I like the idea of the OVA, but I can get nitpicky about things that don’t line up with Komaeda’s initial characterization. I don’t think the fake world needs much criticism because it’s just a conceptualization, but… I would’ve loved to do more with the whole idea.

[yeagerprincess]

anon, i hope you know i took this VERY seriously. i dont play bout Sally 🫶🏿🩷

So I wrote this because I had a pretty bad migraine and wanted some comfort. MAJOR TW FOR MIGRAINES!!!! Reader is having a retinal migraine WITH an ocular aura. Very descriptive detailing of symptoms.

Your legs were draped across Sal's lap, his thumbs gently smoothing over your thighs while a slasher movie played on the TV. His piercing blue eyes occasionally dart over to you, sensing your unease, though he can't figure out what's got you so distracted. You don't seem to be scared of the movie or nervous from his closeness, just mentally elsewhere.

Meanwhile, the eye-floater in your peripheral vision began to grow in size, slowly inching its way to the center of your vision. Normally an eye-floater would disappear after a few seconds, but this one had been growing and distorting your vision to the point that it looked like TV static whenever you tried to look at something.

"I'm having an Aura. I'm gonna have a migraine," you state abruptly, rising up from the sofa and heading to your bedroom in a panic. "I have to leave, Sal, I'm sorry."

"Whoa whoa whoa, hey, hold on," he calls to you in a gentle voice, palms raised in an attempt to put you at ease as he approaches you. You try at look at him, but half his face- ironically enough- is engulfed in your Aura, rendering him nearly invisible.

Once his hands are gently resting on your shoulders, he whispers, "You told me before that you usually have about 20 minutes before the pain starts, right?" You nod. "So let's use that time to get you comfortable so you can sleep it off. That's the only thing that helps, isn't it?"

It's true. The pain is unbearable when it sets it, leaving nauseous and dizzy. You become sensitive to sounds, smells, light, even temperature. It's miserable.

Sal's voice is hushed and calming when he speaks to you, easing you down the hallway and into his bedroom where he pulls back the blanket for you. "You just focus on getting comfortable, okay? I'll go get some melatonin for you."

Once he's done tucking you in, he leaves the room for a bit longer than you had anticipated, only to return with a handful of freezing cold towels, some ice water, and a little white pill. "How'd you get those towels so cold so fast?" You ask, quickly taking the melatonin before settling back into Sal's blanket.

"You told me that putting a cold towel over your eyes is soothing when you have migraines, so I started keeping towels in sandwich bags in my freezer. Just in case."

You told him that forever ago.

Sal clicks off the light and shuffles into bed beside you, making sure to give you enough space and not overwhelm you with physical contact in your current state. "Oh, and I dropped the temperature to 60 degrees. I know it helps you feel better when it's cold."

Fuck, you loved that man.

Your eyes flutter shut as the sound of the air conditioner powering on lulls you to sleep. "Thank you," you whisper quietly, gripping onto Sal's sweater with just your thumb and index.

"Don't worry about it," he answers softly, "just get some rest, baby."

Hours later, you languidly rise in bed, hair slightly disheveled and eyes half-lidded. When you turn your head, you see him there, unmasked, tapping away at his Gear Boy. The sound of you stirring in bed makes him toss his game into the nightstand, cyan locks swishing as he quickly turns his head to face you. He's stunned to see you already staring daggers into his blue eyes.

Without a word, you crash your lips into his, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders as you ease your thigh over his lap. He rests his hands on your hips, slowly running them along your thighs as you straddle him, warm thighs locking him in place. He's a bit awkward at kissing, given his split lips and scars, but damn if he doesn't try. Oh, how he consumes you.

The gasp he lets out when you roll your hips down into him only coaxes one from your lips right after. And the music of your rapturous gasps triggers more sweet music from him. Back and forth, you exchange blissful melodies between hungry mouths. Sal grabs a fistful of your band tee and lifts his hips to meet yours. A slight change, but a drastic one. Through your black and red striped panties, your blooming clit slides up perfectly against him.

With his other hand, he grabs onto your hair to tug your head to the side and expose your pretty brown skin for his ravenous teeth. You suck in a sharp breath through your own teeth as Sal sinks his sharp ones further into that perfect spot right where your shoulder meets the base of your neck. "Baby," you whimper as you tangle your fingers in his messy hair.

"Do it faster," he chokes out, slowly dragging his tongue up your throat, stopping at your ear, and then nibbling on the shell of it. You squeal with delight upon having your weakness exploited so deliciously, pulling Sal into a tight hug as you hump against his dick at a desperate pace. He clings to you just as tightly, falling back onto the mattress with you in his arms. "Baby, I'm gonna cum!" You mewl into his neck, nails digging into his flesh as your ruthless hips writhe on top of him.

"Mhm," he answers, chasing his own release right with you. "Fuckin' cumming," he growls as his hands find your ass, gripping tightly as he ruts up into you.

You're the first to surrender, your hips spasming on top of him as you sing your pleasures into his neck. The feeling of your slippery tongue sliding all over his throat makes him give in right after, painting the inside of his sweatpants with his bliss as his hands struggle to settle on which part of your body to grab onto to for anchorage.

It takes quite a bit for the two of you to come down from your highs, offering each other sweet kisses and soft touches as your chests rise and fall together.

"Sal," you start breathlessly, "you make me feel seen," you admit shyly, thinking back on all he did to comfort you without even having to be asked.

"Then let my eyes feast on you." Sal wastes no time rolling you onto your back, holding your gaze as he crawls down your body and spreads your soft thighs to expose your wetness. It's seeping through your panties, sticking to the fabric as Sal rolls them down past your ankles, and he cant help the way he drinks you in with his eyes. You're still sensitive when he begins to drink you, his mouth closing around your entire pussy, slowly closing around your clit and pulling away with a lewd slurp. Your thighs twitch around his face as he gorges himself on your essence.

You grab onto his hair as you begin to thrash wildly underneath him, still dangerously sensitive from your last orgasm. A needy whine escapes your lips when you feel him hooking his arms underneath your legs and holding them in place over his shoulders, his fingertips deep in the tops of your thighs. "Too much, t-too fuckin' much, I'm gonna cum!" Your eyes roll back in your head as your body tenses up from pleasure, your second orgasm wracking through your core as you try and fail to thrash your way out of Sal's devious grasp.

When you finally come to, Sal is already there, kissing his way up your heaving body as you gently drag your nails all over his skin until they reach his chest. His hands drag all over your hips as he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "Let me know when you're ready for a bath, okay?" He asks sweetly, his gently knuckles caressing along your cheek and jaw as he watches you breathe.

He's going to have to write a song about this as soon you're asleep.

[yuh13lo]

One of the same

The night they met, the whole city seemed to pause for just the two of them.

The restaurant was buzzing—low ambient music, warm lighting, and the low hum of chatter weaving through the air like background music to a movie.

Matt Sturniolo checked his phone again, scanning the entrance. Nick and Chris were already at the table, and Matt was sitting in the outer seat, half-listening to his brothers talk about some TikTok they filmed earlier.

Then the door opened.

In walked Madison Beer, effortlessly stylish as always, and beside her, her younger sister—twenty-one, soft-eyed, a little shy, and clearly trying not to trip over her own feet in those boots.

Madison waved, beaming. “Hey! Sorry we’re late, traffic was insane.”

“No worries,” Nick said, standing up and giving her a quick hug.

Matt stood too, mostly because it felt like the polite thing to do, but also because suddenly his heart was doing something weird. Madison’s sister offered a small wave and smile, which Matt returned with a nod and the smallest grin.

Chris immediately shifted over. “Yo, sit here,” he said to Matt with a smirk. “You’re closer to the end, easy escape if she turns out boring.”

Matt gave him a look but stayed put, letting her slide into the seat beside him.

“I’m Matt,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

“I know,” she replied with a laugh. “I’m—well, you probably know that too.”

He laughed, and something about how quiet and sincere her voice was made him lean in just a little more.

As the conversation at the table picked up, with Nick and Madison laughing about some LA music scene drama, Matt noticed her scanning the menu, chewing the inside of her cheek, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her napkin.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” she said, then leaned closer. “Just… I get weird about ordering. Like, irrationally nervous. I always overthink it.”

He leaned a little closer too. “What were you gonna get?”

She pointed discreetly at the pasta section. “The rigatoni, maybe? But no mushrooms.”

When the server came over, Matt didn’t hesitate.

“She’ll have the rigatoni, no mushrooms. And I’ll take the chicken parm.”

She blinked at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You looked like you’d rather disappear than say it out loud,” he teased gently. “I figured I’d help.”

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft again.

They smiled at each other for a beat too long. Across the table, Madison nudged Nick and gestured at the pair, both whispering like the rest of the table wasn’t there.

Nick whispered, “They’re totally in their own world.”

Madison grinned. “It’s kind of adorable. She never clicks with people this fast.”

Chris, as usual, was already sneaking pictures—Matt holding the menu out between them, her pointing at something with a laugh, both of them nearly shoulder to shoulder.

“So,” Matt said after a moment, pushing his water glass closer to her since she hadn’t touched hers, “Do you visit LA a lot?”

“Not really,” she said. “This is like… my second real time out here. Maddie keeps trying to convince me to move.”

“What’s stopping you?”

She sighed, fingers tapping on the glass. “Honestly? Nothing, except… I don’t really have a reason to be here besides her.”

“That’s not a bad reason.”

“I guess,” she said. “But I want it to be something I choose. Not just because I’m following her around, y’know?”

Matt nodded slowly. “Makes sense. But maybe the reason shows up after you move. Not before.”

She tilted her head at him. “Are you always this insightful?”

He smirked. “Only when I’m trying to impress someone who’s scared of mushrooms.”

She laughed—bright and open now, her nervousness dissolving bit by bit.

As dinner wrapped up, Nick said, “We should hit that ice cream spot down the block.”

Everyone agreed. Outside, the night air had a chill, and as they walked, Matt noticed her arms crossed tight over her chest.

“Here,” he said, sliding his jacket off without a word and draping it around her shoulders.

She looked up. “You’re gonna be cold now.”

“I run warm,” he said, which was technically true—but also, he didn’t mind if she was comfortable.

They trailed behind the group, still in their little bubble.

At the ice cream counter, she leaned toward the glass. “I want something weird. Like, unexpected.”

“Strawberry basil,” he suggested.

She gave him a skeptical look. “I’ll try it if you do.”

He ordered a scoop of strawberry basil and handed her the first spoon. “You’re going first.”

She tasted it, paused, and then smiled. “Weird… but kind of amazing?”

“Told you.” He held out a bite of his midnight blue gelato. “Now yours.”

She tried it and gasped. “Okay, that’s better. Blueberry and magic?”

He grinned. “Exactly what I said.”

They found a bench outside, sitting side by side, sharing bites, passing the spoons back and forth like it was second nature.

Behind them, Chris snapped another picture.

Madison leaned toward Nick. “I think she just found her reason to move here.”

Nick smiled. “Yeah. And he doesn’t even know it yet.”

──── ✦ ────

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the wide LA windows of Nick’s apartment. The city was already buzzing, but inside, things were slower—softer.

Matt sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone with a small, goofy smile on his face. Chris, nursing a coffee, walked in and narrowed his eyes.

“You texting her already?”

Matt blinked. “No.”

Chris smirked. “Liar. You’re doing the smiling-at-the-screen thing.”

Matt didn’t answer, just locked his phone and tossed it onto the counter like he hadn’t just spent five minutes trying to come up with a casual, cool way to say “last night was fun.”

Chris plopped down beside him. “You like her.”

Matt didn’t deny it.

Nick came in next, stretching. “Is Madison coming over today?”

“Yeah,” Matt said quickly. “She said her sister might come too.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Oh, might.”

But Matt didn’t rise to it. Instead, he glanced at his phone again, a flicker of nerves crossing his face. “Do you think she’d really consider moving here?”

Nick tilted his head. “You hoping she does?”

Matt hesitated, then nodded once. “Yeah. I don’t know. I haven’t connected with someone like that in… maybe ever.”

──── ✦ ────

That afternoon, they all gathered again—this time at Nick’s place, just a chill day with pizza, music, and an unspoken hope that yesterday’s spark wasn’t just a one-time thing.

When she walked in with Madison, Matt looked up and froze a little.

She was wearing his jacket again.

He stood as she came in. “You’re still wearing that?”

“I kind of hoped you’d let me,” she said, sheepishly.

He smiled. “It looks better on you.”

Madison exchanged a look with Nick like, yep—it’s happening.

Later, while Chris, Madison, and Nick argued over what movie to watch, Matt and she wandered out to the balcony with a couple slices of pizza.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, leaning on the railing.

“Me too,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night… about reasons showing up after you move.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “You might be right. I think… I might want to give LA a shot.”

Matt looked at her, something tender in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said. “And maybe it’s not just for my sister this time.”

He looked down, smiling as he took a bite of pizza to hide how hard he was grinning.

“Do you think we’d still share weird ice cream flavors if you lived here?” he asked.

She nudged his arm. “Only if you keep ordering for me when I get nervous.”

“Deal,” he said softly. “Every single time.”

Behind them, Chris opened the sliding door just enough to snap one more picture of the pair—Matt’s head tilted toward her, both of them lit by the fading California sun, grinning like the world didn’t exist beyond that little balcony.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Things that come in my head as I play through Diasomnia's chapter (chp 69-90):

[Potential spoilers below darlings, proceed with caution!]

(AN: I know I'm extremely to the party, but bear with me pls, real life has just been too hectic for me lol)

The fond look on Silver's face when he talks about Lilia drilling into their heads to survive no matter what is so cute lol

Silver using his Disney princess privileges the way God intended is lowkey badass ngl. Also Sebek is literally carving a place in my heart as I go through these chapters <3

The Dawn Knight makes an appearance!! Also Henrick has a very punchable face

It's interesting to see the parallels between Silver and the Dawn Knight. Both were taken in by men of prominent power and positions, and grew up under their tutelage. Both attribute their very existence to their father figures, and have made it their mission to be loyal to them. Both also have a brother like figure to whom their loyalty extends, but here is where they differ: where the Dawn Knight only questions if things could be different, he doesn't go against Henrick directly. Meanwhile, Silver is actively playing a role in trying to destroy this dreamworld Malleus has created despite respecting him so much because he understands that its not right.

Mama Draconia is here, as is Eggleus, and the tearfest awaiting me at the end of this entire arc–

Maleanor, please listen to Lilia please I'm begging you atp– Did she just throw Eggleus at Lilia???

Maleanor's blessing for Malleus reminds me so much of Maleficent's. Like if you see Maleficent's entire curse (from the animated movie), she basically confirms Fauna and Flora's gifts before adding the curse of death. Maleanor's blessing, which I can only believe to have been intended to keep Malleus safe from humans, inadvertently acts as a curse. I mean, 'star of misfortune' kinda... but she was acting out of a need to protect her child so–

I can't help overanalyzing everything since I've gotten so many spoilers already, but I can't help but see Baur reminding Lilia of the huge responsibility Maleanor gave him by handing Eggleus and his safety over to him as foreshadowing that Sebek's gonna have to slap some sense into Silver in the future.

I'm sorry, but something dark and murderous awakens in me the moment I see Henrick.

Dawn Knight's face reveal is cool and all, but can we talk about Silver's VA scaring the shit out of me with that scream? The pain in that, holy hell.

Hats off to Silver's VA for all the emotion he put into this like– I had goosebumps the entire time.

Silver needs a hug (and therapy, who am I kidding) and Lilia needs to be whacked upside the head because what do you mean this idiot of a fae helped a dragon egg hatch and woke up Silver when it was specifically said that only someone who could truly love him could do that and still think himself incapable of love. Lilia when I catch you old man–!

Hairless monkey? Really Mal? Okay fine I'll forgive you for that remark just because of your angelic humming...

The little snippets of Silver's life with Lilia and Malleus are stealing what's left of my bruised heart <3

I love Sebek. That's all I have to say. I love this green-haired little tsundere.

I just have one word for the Senate: Murder.

[ray935sworld]

Teammate memories

Luca/Bez

"If Martin actually leaves, you could join Aprilia" It was that point in their joking conversation that Luca turned to look from his paper to look at the younger man.

"What?" he asked, sensing more truth in his boyfriend's words than their previous jokes. They had talked about the latest rumors while laying tangled in each other on Luca's couch.

That meant, Luca had laid on his couch, looking over some pr stuff he'd have to do when Marco had decided to lay down on top of him and bury his curly head in his stomach which was the sign for Luca to put his hands in those curls and give his boyfriend a little head scratch.

"I'm just saying... If Martin leaves there's a free factory seat. An Italian one..." "With a star rookie practically on it." "That's not for sure." Luca gave the other a look, they both knew how things like that worked. Acosta had been the best example.

Marco pulled a face, he didn't like to think about how it made him look if Ai performed better than him. It wasn't even personally. The young adult was a kind and respectful man but an even better rider. It scared him. So instead he decided to focus on something else. His boyfriend.

"But Aprilia has many, many advantages" "Does it? Alright. Convince me." Luca challenged him with a smile.

"Alright! So-!" Bez propped himself up a little as he twisted his lips indicating that he was thinking. "You wouldn't have to travel so much." he started.

"I mean you do have to get to main factory Honda sometimes. It's far way to Asia" "Right but it's not that often as you know" "But the jetlags get you quite bad, old man" "Hey!"

Marco laughed about his own comment while Luca gave him a soft nudge. "It's true! Also, Aprilia has pizza nights!" "We're in Italy. Every night is pizza night!" "But then you'd get paid for it!"

Luca snorted. He loved his boyfriend for things like that.

"AND! AND!" he said, clearly exaggerating "We would be teammates again."

Luca froze a little, despite his happy tone, there was a small look of sadness in Bez eyes. A longing, Luca couldn't quite place. But with his words - and the memory of the way Bez had cried when finding out Luca would leave the team in 2023, assuming it meant he'd leave him as well - Luca could make out what he'd meant.

"We would..." he said, softer this time. "We would make silly videos together, as we still do. Your camera roll proves it. Eveb though I have to say, I was very close to pushing Savadori off in that cowboy, Lasso video"

Bez chuckled. He remembered the video and Lucas reaction to it. And his inability to walk afterward.

"We would makes jokes - as we do. We would annoying the fuck out of the team cause none of us would listen, which we should avoid. As you know."

"But it's fun! It was fun. And Uccio never minded!" "Uccio was so close to smacking our head together and the onyl reason he didn't do it, was cause he knew we'd make out" Luca dead panged as he remembered Vale telling him he had to give Uccio a raise for making sure the relationship wouldn't be exposed.

"But talking about making out... We could... Sneak around more easily. Swap team kits without anyone noticing... Make out in dark corner of boring sponsor events... Like the time Vale caught us before the livery reveal" Luca continued.

The curly haired man laughed at the memory. Luca had pulled him into a storage room in a lonely hallway and pressed him against a wall, calling him hot endless times, his hands not staying above the clothes, until Vale had pulled his younger brother out the corner by the neck and asked him if he was trying to make him an uncle anytime soon.

"Working on it" Luca had shot back with a wink at the red faced younger man. "Hell, wait at least until it's off season to get him pregnant or till it's not my problem."

Bez had wanted to die right there.

He wasn't unfamiliar with the vulgar way Vale and the other guys, even himself talked, even about each other. He was used to it at the ranch. He even knew that Vale didn't mind them making out or their relationship one bit.

"Do you actually want Rivola to catch us like that?" Luca asked playfully, pulling him back to the moment. "Cause you know, you in black is a sight that makes me wanna put my hand on you all the time."

Bez sighed. He knew that this was a playful way of Luca to turn down the playfully added idea. He knew Luca wanted to stay and Honda and he should. And he respected that.

But he also really wanted to be his boyfriends teammate again and spend as much time as possible with him.

[vicedmuses]

there was something about mike that was alluring. brett wanted to show him all sides of him. it seemed like even when he did, the man didn't care. he didn't run away screaming when he saw his pearly white teeth. his fangs. did this man have some sort of death wish? did he normally attract danger at this magnitude? if the vampire was any different, he would have lectured him on how to be better, on how to take care of himself more. maybe on how to not fall into a trap. then he would've lectured him that if a monster was after him, making out definitely wasn't the right thing to do. he would've if he were good. he wasn't though and all of this just made him want mike some more. “do i look like the type of person who gives a damn about being selfish or not?” he shook his head slowly. “no no, my pleasure is the only one that matters.” he wasn't going to admit to the amount of time. he couldn't. that would have been giving up too much power and he was already used to having more power in a dynamic than this conversation. “i do think you're pretty. i thought that part was obvious when my tongue was down your throat, but i guess not?” sarcasm laced his words as his tongue darted out to lick his own lips. almost like showing him what he was getting moments before. “i know you think i'm hot. it's okay. you don't have to be scared about what you're feeling right now.”

technically, he didn't even know what he was feeling in that moment. there was a sense of pride that filled him up when mike said that he didn't want another man. he only wanted him. the vampire didn't do emotions, at least he didn't think he did. not as a human, not as a vampire, not as anything. that just wasn't something that was on his radar or important for him to think about. now though? he would never admit to rethinking that whole thing, but he was feeling an attraction for the man. one that went beyond adrenaline or hormones. even if he drank from him, he wanted to still see him and be around him. almost like he felt a little bit more energized with … whatever mike was … around. did he think that he was going to make him a better man? probably not. brett didn't even let his nagging brother get the best of him and change his ways. so he highly doubted that this would change him for the better. still, when he was with mike, he didn't necessarily feel like going out and committing a crime.

"i would like to interject here to say that while we weren't exactly planning this moments before, he didn't pull away. hell, i think he was ready to let me fuck him right here and now if you didn't walk in on us. so can you be a dear and just leave?" his brother's commentary mixing in with mike's explanation wasn't helping anyone. if anything, it made rhett even more confused. how did they end up going from chasing each other down to ripping each other's clothes off? the werewolf did have to chuckle though. at least it wasn't like his brother was the angel in this story. “he is an asshole, yeah. everyone knows it, but most people don't jump into the sack with him because he's such a dick.” since it almost sounded like the other was using that as an excuse for being turned on by him. the vampire just flashed another smile at him. “have you no survival skills? they always say you should humanize yourself to your hunters so they won't want to kill you.” the werewolf wasn't really surprised his brother was acting that way. what he was surprised about was why mike seemed to like it. “so you're both horny, but only one of you is a sadist while the other is a masochist?” he just wanted to make sure that he had all of the details correct.

at the mention of all three of them leaving together, both of the brothers glared at each other. neither of them had a problem with making a long trip. for brett, he could probably cut most of that time down and do it multiple times. for rhett, his legs were strong enough that he probably wouldn't have gotten tired. the detective was the first one to reply. “you're going to keep on getting yourself into trouble, so i might as well tag along no matter who else is there.” he took off his zipped up hoodie to hand it over to the other. at some point, it seemed like somebody had tried to rip mike's clothing. brett seemed to have a smug look on his face when he realized why he was trying to cover him up. “darling, i am the trouble you keep running into yet i can't seem to get you away from me.” although, if he was preoccupied with the other man, that meant he was going to have less time to hunt another meal. someone he didn't care about killing. so both brothers walked out of the shack and waited to place their arms around mike. the vampire around his waist and the werewolf around his shoulders. the clear distinction between hot and cold was apparent from both of them. hopefully mike didn't get sick. then, the detective continued the conversation. “so, mike, what were you doing before brett here found you?”

Maybe it was fitting that he’d fallen for Brett. No one in his family really had normal relationships. Maybe it was in their blood—to crave the wrong people, to mess things up before they even had a chance to go right. Mike made bad choices like it was second nature, but that was a whole other rabbit hole he wasn’t about to fall down. Not yet. Still, it was getting harder to pretend. Harder to hide how his body reacted, how his voice softened without permission, how his guard cracked whenever Brett looked at him like that. The kind of look that could be manipulative—or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Brett was just that intense. That honest. Hell, he seemed more honest lately. Sure, trust and protection sounded nice—but in Rosewood, that didn’t mean much. Anyone from there could’ve told you that. And still, Mike was going against every instinct to run. To shut down. Instead, he leaned in.

“Oh yeah? Some would say that’s selfish,” he teased, his voice low, playful. “Shouldn’t it be their pleasure is your pleasure?” And then he saw it—just a flash, but enough to confirm his earlier suspicion. The teeth. Not fully human. Not exactly a vampire either, but close enough to set off every alarm in his head. He should be afraid. But he wasn’t. Quietly, like the moment didn’t need words, Mike cupped Brett’s face. His thumb traced his cheek, slow and tender. It wasn’t fear. It was something else. Acceptance. Maybe even curiosity. Maybe more than that. “Oh? So you were being a creep?” he laughed softly. “Do I even wanna know how long? Days? Hours? Weeks?” He groaned, burying his face for a second. “God...” The blush bloomed before he could stop it. No one had ever said something like that to him. Not like that. And the thing was—he could tell Brett wasn’t just saying it to get in his pants. He could’ve lied. Spun some pretty line. But he didn’t. “The feeling’s... very mutual,” Mike murmured, leaning in to give him a quick, meaningful kiss. He pulled back just enough to smirk. “So you admit I’m pretty.” His voice dropped into a softer register. “Well, a very handsome, very charming man is doing the same to me. So... guess that makes two of us.”

Mike playfully rolled his eyes at Brett’s response, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t know why he’d expected anything different—Brett always had a way of answering that walked the line between honesty and charm. And damn if it wasn’t working. Not that it had to. Mike was already in too deep. “Good to know I’m in good hands,” he said, voice dropping into something low and teasing—seductive, even. Two could play this game. For a split second, Mike considered telling Brett the truth—that he’d never done this before. Not like this. That he was ready to give himself completely. No walls. No lies. Just trust. “Please... I don’t want another man,” he whispered, the words heavy with truth, edged with something raw and real. But fate had other plans. Just as the moment was moving along, they were interrupted.

This had to be the most embarrassing moment of his entire life. And somehow, every word that came out of Mike’s mouth just made it worse. His explanation was a disaster. The guy probably thought he was either easy—or straight-up mentally unwell. Which, okay, maybe he had a few issues, but this wasn’t about that. Brett wasn’t helping, of course. Not that Mike expected him to. If anything, Brett probably didn't care they’d gotten caught. “No! It’s not like that!” Mike blurted out, waving his hands like that would magically fix everything. “He was attacking me—at first! But he stopped when all that chaos broke out. Something was about to hit him, and it was the only safe spot, okay?” He winced. Yeah, this wasn’t sounding any better. “I ended up on top of him, we weren’t exactly planning it,” Mike continued, digging his grave deeper. “And yeah, I got to know him a little better in the process. Murder-y tendencies aside, he’s not all bad. Still kind of an asshole, but... that’s part of the charm, I guess?”

He shot Brett a sharp glare. “May I remind you that you were literally trying to kill me? We didn’t exactly have time for pleasantries. And you made no effort to learn my name, either, Brett.” His tone had bite, but the roll of his eyes carried more sass than venom. Then Rhett stepped in scolding Brett and Mike had to bite back a laugh. He wasn’t surprised Brett didn’t listen, but what did surprise him was the warmth of Rhett’s jacket being draped around his shoulders. He hadn’t even realized he was cold until that moment. The difference between the two guys was... stark. Night and day. One tried to kill him, the other was wrapping him up like something worth protecting. “Likewise, Rhett,” Mike said, his voice softer now. “I... I lost control, too. Brett’s not completely to blame. And I’m sorry you had to witness all that. I’m not usually like that.” He didn’t know why it mattered so much—what Rhett thought of him—but it did. A lot. Maybe too much.

Mike caught himself before reaching out to touch Rhett, not sure where the urge was coming from. It was the same strange pull he felt with Brett. Maybe it had something to do with whatever flew at them or that damn book .“That would be nice, yeah,” he nodded, responding to Rhett’s offer. “As long as I’m not running. Breaks would be good—it’s a bit of a distance. But... thank you.” For a second, he got lost in the warmth of the moment—until Brett grabbed his arm, yanking him back into the chaos. Mike turned, arching an eyebrow at him. “Of course. Even though, you did try to kill me,” he teased. Now he was stuck between the two of them—literally and emotionally He liked both of them. And he wasn’t sure why. Rhett was gentler, kinder. Easier to talk to. Brett? He was chaos and fire and danger... but not just that. “Do you guys mind if we all go together?” Mike asked, glancing between them. “Something still feels off. Whatever happened earlier, I don’t know if it was something that from the bottles or whatever the book was. Either way, it’s probably not smart to be left alone. Or leave Brett alone either, for that matter.”

[bu-blegh-ost]

EP. 114 spoilers

Okay, guys, I have an insane theory. An absolutely bonkers unhinged one and I'm absolutely sure it's getting debunked by the info we'll get from ep. 115 fucking immediately, but let me have this, entertain the madness I'm about to spew from my lips.

"Praise the Solar Mother" means that Faye Ferin is not only conscious and aware of the prophecy, she BELIEVES it. The question is, which version of it, right? Well, she was warned abt Black Sea beforehand and this allowed her to get the upper hand in expanding Navy's influence, but not only that, she says "the day it spreads is coming and we'll be ready" And which prophecy speaks of it? "the seal remains locked by a key of divinity, its release, in time, an inevitability"

The real one.

She fucking knows that the Black Sea is about to spread soon and wants to either use it in some way or be the one to control the world after the calamity. And here comes my absolutely deranged idea.

"The Machine is stable. My son is stable"

What if the machine is an artificial Leviathan and the son is Jayson Ferin. Picture this madness. See into my crazy gay-ass mind.

What if Faye Ferin wants to control the world by making Jayson Ferin into a new Chosen one. She is constructing an artificial Leviathan, but why? To somehow connect Jayson to it and make him "a Sea god's last egg". We SAW the Leviathan bones, the Navy is strong enough to kill real Leviathans, they don't need them as weapons, they have things stronger than them! So what if they need one to literally trick fate? Jayson is literally raised like Gillion. Only under his mother's influence, controlled by her agenda, her vision of justice. She makes him consider Drey and Jay as traitors, feeds his hatered, feeds him her own perception of reality to use him for her gains. His almost ethereal sun-angel form. Where does his power come from? Was he modified? I fully believe he is not replaced by Black ops. She doesn't need to do that. She had full control over his way of thinking ever since he was born simply bc she is his mother. She enjoys that control. She is confident that Jayson won't break from her grasp.

And now see this. Jayson just so happens to come for a visit to the Undersea, not so long ago. Could the Elders be replaced as Black ops at this point? They very much could. Why would the real Elders banish Gillion if they believed he was the Chosen One? Why not imprison him, keep him in their own control? Well, cause they were Navy clones, possibly. And Navy wanted Gill out of the picture.

The important meeting in the Undersea arranged by Elders (impostors?) a while back. Suspiciously high amount of Triton torture victims in the stronghold. "You abandoned us". What if they are taking over Undersea from the inside? What if fake Elders spread propaganda, saying that Gill was not in fact banished but that he abandoned his people willingly? So maybe they are willing to appoint a new Chosen, Jayson?

Why would Edyn want to help them with all that? "I just want you to be able to come back home again"

If Jayson is a new Chosen, then Gillion doesn't have to be. If Gillion becomes a regular person Edyn can take him home, they can live a normal life and if the world has to burn because of it, so be it. Gillion will be free. That's all Edyn cares abt.

Let me know if I fully lost my mind please.

[girzapata6]

It's just you and me... Both going through a living hell. But we're going together and that's what matters.

I'm with you, and you're with me.

(I did the thing[?)